THE PRICE OF A SOUL.
I love you, love you; for your love would lose
State, station, heaven, mankind's, my own esteem.
—Byron.
He spoke these two words with such a desperate look, in such a desperate tone, that Mary Grey was half frightened; for she saw that he was in that fatal mood in which men have been driven to crime or death for the love of woman.
This was the mood to which she wished to bring him, and in which she wished to keep him until he should have done his work; and yet it half frightened her now.
"Hush—hush!" she murmured. ["Be] quiet! There are people in the next room. They may hear you. And I am sure they should do so they would take you for a lunatic."
"But—do you believe me? Do you believe that I would defy the universe in your service? Do you believe me? If not, try me!" he aspirated, vehemently.
"I do believe you. And some day I will try you. You have won my love; but he who wins my hand must first prove his love for me in a way that will leave no doubt upon the fact."
"Then I am safe, for I am sure to prove it," he said, with a sigh of intense relief.
She looked at him again, and knew that he spoke as he felt. Yes, for her sake he would "march to death as to a festival."
"Now, then, will you be good and quiet and tell me news of my old neighbors at Wendover and Blue Cliffs?" she archly inquired.
"I do not think I can. I wish to sit here and look at you and think only of you. It would be a painful wrench to tear away my thoughts from you and employ them upon anything else. Let me sit here in my heaven!" he pleaded.
"Yes, love; but remember I am very anxious to know something about my dear friends, whom I have not heard from for a month. Can not you gratify me?" coaxed Mary Grey.
"I can not fix my mind upon them long enough to remember anything. You absorb it all," he answered, dreamily gazing upon her.
"But if I ask you questions surely you can answer them," said Mary Grey, who, though very anxious for information later than that afforded by Mrs. Wheatfield's letter, was not ill-pleased at the devotion which baffled her curiosity.
"Yes, I will answer any question you ask. That will not be so much of a wrench," he said.
"Then how is my dear friend, Emma Cavendish?" inquired the traitress.
"Well and happy, at Blue Cliffs," answered the lover.
"Is it true, as I hear, that she is to marry—" Mary Grey hesitated for a moment before her choking voice could pronounce his name—"Mr. Alden Lytton?"
"Yes, I believe so. Everybody says so."
"When?"
"As soon as he gets established in his profession, I suppose."
"Well, he is coming here on the first of the month to find an office and fit it up. And then he is going on to Philadelphia to select books for a law library."
"Ah, he is coming here and he is going on to Philadelphia. Yes, yes, yes, yes! That will do," murmured Mary Grey, to herself.
"What did you say?" inquired Craven Kyte.
"I said that it was a good plan; but it will take money," answered Mrs. Grey.
"Yes, that it will. And he has got it. That mysterious guardian of his has sent him ten thousand dollars to begin with."
"A round sum! When did you say he was coming here?"
"On the first of next month; or, perhaps, before the end of this month."
"Good! Very good!"
"Good for what?" innocently inquired Craven Kyte.
"Good for his professional prospects, of course! The sooner he begins the better, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes; certainly!"
"And when does he go to Philadelphia?"
"Just as soon as he has selected his law office and set painters and glaziers and paper-hangers and upholsterers and such to fit it up. For no expense is to be spared, and the young lawyer is to set up in style. For such is the wish of his guardian."
"You know this?"
"Yes, I know it. One knows everything that anybody else knows in a small village like Wendover."
"You do not know when Mr. Lytton and Miss Cavendish are to be married?"
"No, because I do not think they know themselves. But the people say it will be as soon as the young gentleman gets settled in his practice."
"Good again! The delay is favorable," muttered Mary Grey to herself.
"What did you say?" again inquired the ingenuous young man.
"I say the delay is wise, of course."
"Oh, yes; certainly!" assented Mr. Kyte.
"And now tell me about the others," said Mrs. Grey.
But her lover took her hand and gazed into her face, murmuring:
"Oh, my love, my life, let me sit here and hold your thrilling little hand and gaze into your beautiful eyes, and think only of you for a moment!"
She put her hand around his head and drew it toward her and pressed a kiss upon his forehead, and then said:
"There! Now you will go on for me, will you not?"
"I would die for you!" he earnestly exclaimed.
"I would rather you would live for me, you mad boy!" she answered, smiling archly.
"I will do anything for you."
"Then answer my questions. Is it also true that Mr. Lyle and Miss Lytton are to be married?"
"Oh, yes! That is certain. Their engagement is announced. There is no secret about that."
"When are they to be married?"
"Well, there is a slight obstacle to their immediate union."
"What is that?"
"An old school-girl compact between Miss Cavendish and Miss Lytton, in which they promised each other that they would both be married on the same day or never at all."
"A very silly, girlish compact."
"Very."
"Why do they not break it by mutual consent?"
"Because mutual consent can not be had. Miss Cavendish indeed offers to release Miss Lytton from her promise; but Miss Lytton refuses to be released. And although her clerical lover presses her to name an earlier day, she will name no other than the day upon which Miss Cavendish also weds, be that day sooner or later."
"So it is settled that they will be married upon the same day?"
"Quite settled."
"How do you know?"
"Everything is known in a little country town like Wendover, as I said before."
"They will be married the same day. Better and better. If I had arranged it all myself it could not be better for my plans," muttered Mary Grey to herself.
"What did you say?" inquired Craven Kyte.
"I say I think, upon the whole, the arrangement is a good one."
"Oh, yes; certainly!" admitted the young man.
"Where are you stopping, Craven?" softly inquired Mrs. Grey.
"Oh, at the same hotel from which you dated your letter! I thought you were there, and so I went directly there from the cars. When I inquired for you—I hope you will pardon my indiscretion in inquiring for you," he said, breaking off from his discourse.
"Oh, yes, I will pardon it! But it was a very great indiscretion, you thoughtless boy, for a handsome youth like you to be inquiring for a young widow like me at a public hotel. Now go on with what you were talking about."
"Well, when I inquired for you they told me you had left this very morning, and they gave me your present address."
"That was the way in which you found me?"
"That was the way I found you. But, before starting to come here, I engaged my room at that hotel; for, after it had been blessed by your dear presence, it had quite a home-like feeling to me," said the lover, fervently.
"How long do you stay in the city, Craven, dear?" sweetly inquired the siren.
His face clouded over.
"I must return to-morrow," he said. "It was the only condition upon which our principal would consent to my leaving yesterday. He is going North to purchase his fall and winter goods, you see, and wants me to be there."
"How long will he be absent?"
"He says only four days, at the longest."
"And when does he go?"
"By the next train following my return."
"Then he will be back again at his post by Saturday evening?"
"Yes; in fact, he intends to be back by the end of the week, and that is the very reason why he is so anxious to get away to-morrow night."
"Craven, dear, when your senior partner gets back do you think you will be able to return here for a few days?"
"Do you really wish me to come back so soon?" exclaimed the lover, his face flushing all over with pleasure.
"Yes; but don't cry out so loud—that's a dear! I repeat, there are people in the next [room.] But you have not yet answered my question."
"Oh, yes, I can return here as soon as my partner gets back! He promised that I should take a week's holiday then. So, if he gets back on Saturday evening, expect to see me here on Sunday morning, in time to wait on you to church."
"Stop; not so fast, my dear! You can take your week's holiday at any time, I suppose?"
"At any time this month or next."
"Very well. Now, dear boy, I want you to promise me two or three things."
"I will promise you anything in the world you wish."
"Then listen. Every time I write to you I will inclose within my letter another letter, sealed and directed to me, which you must stamp and post at the Wendover post-office. Will you do that for me?"
While she spoke the young man gazed at her in unqualified amazement.
"Will you do that for me?" she repeated.
"I solemnly promise to do that for you, although I am all in the dark as to what you would be at," earnestly answered Craven Kyte.
"I thank you, dearest dear," cooed the siren, caressing him tenderly.
"I would do anything in the world for you," he answered fervently. "I would die for you or live for you!"
"Well, secondly, I want you, when you go back, to keep an eye on Mr. Alden Lytton. Find out, if possible, the day that he comes to this city. And precede him here yourself by one train. Or, if that is not possible, if you can not find out beforehand the day that he is to come, at least you can certainly know when he actually does start, for every passenger from Wendover is noticed. And then follow him by the next train, and come directly from the depot to me, before going to a hotel or showing yourself at any other place. Will you do that for me?"
"I promise, on my sacred word and honor, that I will, although I have not the slightest idea why you wish me to do this," said Craven.
"You are a true knight, worthy of any lady's love! Well, thirdly, and lastly, as the preachers say, I wish you to promise me never to divulge to a human being anything that has been said between us during this interview."
"I not only promise, but I solemnly vow, in the sight of Heaven and all the holy angels, sacredly to observe the silence you require of me, although I feel more and more deeply mystified by all this."
"You must trust in me, my dear, blindly trust in me for the present, and in time you shall know why I require these things of you," she said, very sweetly.
"I trust in you blindly, utterly, eternally!" answered the lover.
"And now, do you know what your reward shall be?"
"Your smile of approval will be my all-sufficient reward!" exclaimed the young man, earnestly.
"Ah, but you shall hear! When you have done these little favors for me, and one more, which I will tell you about when you come back from Wendover, then—" she said, pausing and looking at him with a bewildering smile.
"Then? Yes! Then?" eagerly aspirated the young man, gazing at her in rapt admiration and expectancy.
"Then I will give you my hand in marriage. I solemnly promise it."
"Oh, you angel—you angel! You have made me so happy!" fervently breathed the infatuated lover, as he drew her, unresisting, and pressed her to his heart.
At this point there was heard the sound of light footsteps approaching.
And the moment after, several of the lady boarders opened the door and entered the room.
Craven Kyte, always shy of strangers, arose to take leave.
As he did so, he seemed suddenly to recollect something.
He put his hand in his breast-pocket and drew forth a little box, which he handed to Mrs. Grey, saying:
"It is your brooch that you requested me to get from the jeweler."
And then, with a bow, he left her.
Mary Grey went back to her room.
"I shall succeed in ruining them all now!" she said, her dark eyes on fire with anticipated triumph.