CHAPTER XVI.
MONA CALLS ON MRS. MONTAGUE.
Mr. Palmer's unexpected announcement fairly stunned Ray for a moment. His heart gave a startled bound, and then sank like a lump of lead in his bosom, while a deadly faintness oppressed him.
Indeed the blow was so sharp and sudden that it seemed to benumb him to such an extent that he made no outward sign—he appeared to be incapable of either speech or motion. His face was turned away from his father, and partially concealed by his newspaper, so that Mr. Palmer, fortunately, did not observe the ghastly pallor that overspread it, and not knowing that Ruth Richards was Mona Montague, he was wholly ignorant of the awful import of his communication.
"Ruth Richards?" Ray finally repeated, in a hollow tone, which, however, sounded to his father as if he did not remember who the girl was.
"Yes, that pretty girl that Mrs. Montague had with her at Hazeldean—the one to whom you showed some attention the night of the ball—surely you cannot have forgotten her. It seems," the gentleman went on, "that young Hamblin has been smitten with her ever since she entered his aunt's service, but she has opposed his preference from the first. He followed them South, and met them at New Orleans, and it seems that the elopement was arranged there. They were very clever about it, planning to leave on the Havana steamer on the very day set for their return to New York. Mrs. Montague learned of it at almost the last moment, and that they had registered as Mr. and Mrs. Hamblin, although she did not ascertain that there had been any marriage beforehand, and, overcome by this unexpected calamity, she took the first express coming North."
It was well for Ray that his father made his explanation somewhat lengthy, for it gave him time to recover a little from the almost paralyzing shock which the dreadful announcement had caused.
He was as white as a ghost, and his face was covered with cold perspiration.
"This terrible thing cannot be true," he said to himself, with a sense of despair at his heart. "Mona false! the runaway wife of another! Never!"
Yet in spite of his instinctive faith in the girl he loved, he knew there
must be some foundation for what had been told to his father. Mrs.
Montague had come home alone. Louis and Mona had been left behind!
What could it mean?
His heart felt as if it had been suddenly cleft in twain. He could not believe the dreadful story—he would not have it so—he would not submit to having his life and all his bright hopes ruined at one fell blow. And that, too, just as he had learned such good news for his darling—when he had been planning to give her, upon her return, the one thing which she had most desired above all others—the indisputable proof of her mother's honorable marriage; when it would also be proved that she was the heir to the property which Homer Forester had left, and could claim, if she chose, the greater portion of the fortune left by her father.
Ray had been very exultant over the finding of that certificate in Mrs. Montague's boudoir, and had anticipated much pleasure in beholding Mona's joy when he should tell her the glorious news.
But now—great heavens! what was he to think?
Then the suspicion came to him, with another great shock, and like a revelation, that it was all a plot; that Mrs. Montague had perhaps discovered Mona's identity and possibly the loss of the certificate, which, she might think, had fallen into the young girl's hands. He had felt sure, from the quizzing to which Louis Hamblin had subjected him at Hazeldean, that that young man's suspicions had been aroused, and possibly this sudden flitting to the South had been but a plot, from beginning to end, to entrap Mona into a marriage with the young man in order to secure the wealth they feared to lose.
"When did Mrs. Montague leave New Orleans?" he inquired, when his father had concluded, while he struggled to speak in his natural tone.
"On Tuesday evening."
"And you say that the Havana steamer sailed that same day?"
"Yes."
"What was the name of the steamer?"
"I do not know. I did not ask," Mr. Palmer replied. He was thinking more about his own affairs than of the alleged elopement of the young people, or he must have wondered somewhat at his son's eager questions. "And, Ray," he added, as the young man suddenly laid down his paper and arose, "there is one other thing I wanted to mention—Mrs. Montague has consented to become Mrs. Palmer on the thirtieth of next month. I—I hope, my dear boy, that you will be prepared to receive her cordially."
"You know, father, that I would never willfully wound you in any way, and when Mrs. Montague comes as your wife, I shall certainly accord her all due respect."
Ray had worded his reply very cautiously, but he could not prevent himself from laying a slight emphasis upon the adverb, for he had resolved that if Mrs. Montague had been concerned in any way in a plot against Mona's honor or happiness, he would not spare her, nor any effort to prove it to his father, and thus prevent him, if possible, from ruining his own life by a union with such a false and unscrupulous woman.
"Thank you, Ray," Mr. Palmer replied, but not in a remarkably hopeful tone, and then remarking that he had a little matter of business to attend to, Ray went out.
Late as it was, he hastened to a cable office, hoping to be able to send a night dispatch to Havana, but he found the place closed, therefore he was obliged to retrace his steps, and wait until morning.
There was not much sleep or rest for him that night. His faith in Mona's truth and constancy had all returned, but he was terribly anxious about her, for the more he thought over what he had heard, the more he was convinced that she was the victim of some cunning plot that might make her very wretched, even if it failed to accomplish its object. He knew that she was very spirited, and would not be likely to submit to the wrong that had been perpetrated against her, and this of itself might serve to make her situation all the more perilous.
He was at the cable office by the time it was opened the next morning, and dispatched the following message to the American Consul in Havana:
"Couple, registered as Mr. and Mrs. Louis Hamblin, sailed from New Orleans for Havana, April 28th. Search for them in Havana hotels. Succor young lady, who is not Mrs. Hamblin. Answer."
Ray felt that this was the very best thing that he could do.
He would gladly have gone himself to Havana, and longed to do so, but he was sure that if she should escape from her abductor—for so he regarded Louis Hamblin—Mona would be likely to return immediately to New York and to him. Thus he concluded it would be best to send the above message and await an answer from the consul, then if he could learn nothing about the couple he would go himself to search for Mona.
The day seemed interminable, and he was nearly distracted when night came, and he received no answer to his dispatch. He had not been able to apply himself to business all day, but wandered in and out of the store, looking wan and anxious, and almost ill.
This led his father to imagine that he was unhappy over his contemplated marriage—a conclusion which did not serve to make the groom-elect feel very comfortable.
On the next morning, however, Ray received the following cablegram:
"Young lady all right; sailed for New York yesterday, May 1st."
The relief which these few words afforded Ray's anxious heart can better be imagined than described.
Mona was true to herself and him, and he knew well enough that she never would have returned to New York if she had been guilty of any wrong. She would soon be with him, and then he would know all.
He ascertained what steamer left Havana on the first, and when it would be likely to arrive in New York, and as the hour drew near, he haunted the pier, that he might welcome his darling, and give her his care and protection the moment she arrived.
Meantime Mona, her mind relieved of all anxiety, was having a very pleasant passage home with Justin Cutler and his sister.
The weather was delightful, the sea was calm, and none of them was sick, so they spent most of their time together upon deck, and Mona was so attracted toward her new friends that she confided to them much more of her history than she had at first done that evening in the Havana hotel. In so doing she had mentioned the Palmer robbery and what she had discovered in connection with it while she was in St. Louis.
This led Mr. Cutler to relate his own experience with the crescents, and also the similar deception practiced upon Mrs. Vanderheck, and he mentioned that it was the opinion of the detective whom he had employed to work up the case, and whom Mona had met in St. Louis, that the same parties were concerned in all three operations.
"They are a very dexterous set of thieves, whoever they are," he remarked, while they were discussing the affair, "but though I never expect to see those crescents again, for I imagine that the stones have been unset and sold, it would afford me a great deal of satisfaction to see that woman brought to justice."
"I have the bogus crescents in my possession," Miss Cutler smilingly remarked to Mona. "Justin has given them to me to keep for him. Would you like to see them, dear?"
"Yes, indeed," Mona replied, "and I, too, hope that woman may yet be found. The affair is so like a romance, I am deeply interested in it."
Mr. Cutler colored slightly as she spoke of the romance of the experience, for he was still quite sensitive over the cruel deception that had been practiced upon him, although he had never confessed to any one how deeply and tenderly interested he had become in the captivating widow who had so successfully duped him.
When the steamer arrived in New York, almost the first person Mona saw was Ray, who stood upon the pier searching with anxious eyes among the passengers for the face of his dear one.
A cry of glad surprise broke from her, and, snatching her handkerchief from her pocket, she shook it vigorously to attract his attention, her lovely face all aglow with joy at his unexpected appearance.
He caught sight of the fluttering signal almost immediately, and his heart leaped within him as he looked into her beaming countenance. Truth and love and purity were stamped on every expressive feature.
He sprang across the gang-plank, and in less time than it takes to tell it he was beside her, while oblivious, in his great thankfulness for her safety, to the fact that others were observing them, he caught her close to him in a quick embrace.
"My darling!" he whispered. "Oh, you can never know how thankful I am to have you safe in my arms once more! What an escape you have had!"
"Why, Ray! how did you know?—who told you?" Mona exclaimed, astonished, as, with a blushing face, she gently freed herself from his embrace, although she still clung almost convulsively to his hand.
"I will tell you all about it later," he returned, in a low tone, and now recalled to the proprieties of life. "I can only say that I learned of the plot against you, and have been nearly distracted about you."
"Ah, Mrs. Montague told you that I had eloped with her nephew," the young girl said, and now losing some of her bright color, "but," lifting her clear, questioning eyes to her lover's face, "you did not believe it; you had faith in me?"
"All faith," he returned, his fingers closing more firmly over the small hand he held.
She thanked him with a radiant smile.
"But how did you know I would come home on this steamer?" she persisted, eager to know how he happened to be there to meet her.
"I cabled the American Consul to search for you, and render you assistance. He replied, telling me that you had already sailed for New York," Ray explained.
"That was thoughtful of you, dear," Mona said, giving him a grateful look, "but I found friends to help me. Come and let me introduce you to them."
She led him to Mr. Cutler and his sister, who had quietly withdrawn to a little distance—for, of course, they took in the situation at once—and performed the ceremony, when, to her surprise, Mr. Cutler cordially shook her lover by the hand, remarking, with his genial smile:
"Mr. Palmer and I have met before, but my sister has not had that pleasure, I believe."
Ray greeted them both with his habitual courtesy, and then in a frank, manly way, but with slightly heightened color, remarked:
"My appearance here perhaps needs some explanation, but it will be sufficient for me to explain that Miss Montague is my promised wife."
"I surmised as much, not long after making the young lady's acquaintance," Mr. Cutler remarked, with a roguish glance at Mona's pink cheeks and downcast eyes. "But," he added, with some curiosity, "it is a puzzle to me how you should know that she would arrive in New York on this steamer to-day."
Ray explained the matter to him, and then they all left the vessel together.
Mr. and Miss Cutler were to go to the Hoffman House, and invited Mona to be their guest during their stay in the city, but thanking them for their kindness, she said she thought it would be best for her to go directly to Mr. Graves, as she had business which she wished him to attend to immediately.
She also expressed again her gratitude to them for their exceeding kindness to her, and promised to call upon them very soon, then bidding them an affectionate good-by she left the wharf with her lover.
They went for a drive in Central Park before going to Mr. Graves, for Ray was anxious to learn all the story of the plot against her and to talk over their own plans for the future.
He found it very difficult to restrain his anger as she told him of her interview with Louis Hamblin in New Orleans, and how she had been decoyed upon the steamer for Havana, with the other circumstances of the voyage, and her arrival there.
"The villain will need to be careful how he comes in my way after this," he said, with sternly compressed lips and a face that was white with anger. "I will not spare him—I will not spare either of those two plotters; but you shall never meet them again, my darling," he concluded, with tender compassion in his tones, as he realized how much she must have suffered with them.
"I shall have to go to West Forty-ninth street once more, for I have a good many things there, and shall have to attend to their removal myself," Mona returned, but looking as if she did not anticipate much pleasure from the meeting with Mrs. Montague.
"Well, then, if you must go there, I will accompany you," Ray said, resolutely. "I will never trust you alone with that woman again. And now I have some good news to relate to you."
He told her then of his discovery of the marriage certificate, and what he had done with it, after which she gave him a graphic account of the discoveries which she had made in the secret drawer of the royal mirror.
"How very strange, my darling," he exclaimed, when she concluded; "how nicely your discovery fits in with mine, and now every difficulty will be smoothed out of your way, only," with an arch glance, "I am almost afraid that I shall be accused of being a fortune-hunter when it becomes known what a wealthy heiress I have won."
Mona smiled at his remark, but she was very glad that she was not to go to him empty-handed.
"And, dear," Ray continued, more gravely, "I am going to claim my wife immediately, for, in spite of the great wealth which will soon be yours, you are a homeless little body, and I feel that you ought to be under my protection."
"Ah, Ray, it will be very nice to have a home of our own," Mona breathed, as she slipped her hand confidingly into his, and then they began to plan for it as they drove down town.
Arriving at the house of Mr. Graves, they were fortunate in finding both that gentleman and his wife at home, and Mona received a most cordial welcome, while the kind-hearted lawyer became almost jubilant upon learning all the facts regarding her parentage and how comparatively easy it would now be to prove it.
It was arranged that Mona and Mr. Graves should meet Ray and Mr. Corbin at the office of the latter on the next morning, when they would all thoroughly discuss these matters and decide upon what course to pursue in relation to them.
This plan was carried out; the certificate and contents of the royal mirror were carefully examined, and then the two lawyers proceeded to lay out their course of action, which was to be swift and sure.
The third day after Mona's arrival in New York, Ray went with her to Mrs. Montague's house to take away the remainder of her wardrobe and some keepsakes which had been saved from her old home.
Mary opened the door in answer to their ring, and her face lighted with pleasure the instant she caught sight of Mona, although it was evident from her greeting that Mrs. Montague had not told her servants the story of the elopement.
"Is Mrs. Montague in?" Mona asked, after she had returned the girl's greeting.
"No, miss, she went out as soon as she had her breakfast, and said she wouldn't be home until after lunch," was the reply.
Mona looked thoughtful. She did not exactly like to enter the house and remove her things during her absence, and yet it would be a relief not to be obliged to meet her.
Ray saw her hesitation, and understood it, but he had no scruples regarding the matter.
"It is perhaps better so," he said, in a low tone; "you will escape an unpleasant interview, and since she is not here to annoy or ill-use you, I will take the carriage and go to attend to a little matter, while you are packing. I will return for you in the course of an hour if that will give you time."
"Yes, that will be ample time, and I will be ready when you call," Mona responded.
Ray immediately drove away, while she, after chatting a few moments with Mary, went up stairs to gather up her clothing and what few treasures she had that had once helped to make her old home so dear.
She worked rapidly, and soon had everything ready. But suddenly she remembered that she had left a very nice pair of button-hole scissors in Mrs. Montague's boudoir on the day they left for the South.
She ran lightly down to get them, and just as she reached the second hall some one rang the bell a vigorous peal.
"That must be Ray," she said to herself, and stopped to listen for his voice.
But as Mary opened the door, she heard a gentleman's tones inquiring for
Mrs. Montague.
"No," the girl said, "my mistress is not in."
"Then I will wait, for my errand is urgent," was the reply, and the person stepped within the hall.
Mona did not see who it was, but she heard Mary usher him into the parlor, after which she went to obey a summons from the cook, leaving the caller alone.
Mona went on into Mrs. Montague's room to get her scissors, but she could not find them readily. She was sure that she had left them on the center-table, but thought that the woman had probably moved them since her return.
Just then she thought she heard some one moving about in Mrs. Montague's chamber adjoining, but the door was closed, and thinking it might be Mary, she continued her search, but still without success.
She was just on the point of going into the other room to ask Mary if she had seen them, when a slight sound attracted her attention, and looking up, she caught the gleam of a pair of vindictive eyes peering in at her from the hall, and the next moment the door was violently shut and the key turned in the lock.