VII.
''Dearest Arthur,' said she, the tears still running down her cheeks, 'how fearfully you must have suffered throughout this long interview!'
''Oh! fear not, Adéle, all will yet be well. I will protect you and avenge your wrongs.'
''Fear not?' said she, 'do you think that I dread death for my own sake? No, Arthur, death is nothing terrible to me now.'
'Then suddenly appearing to become conscious of my presence, they both seized me by the hands and overwhelmed me with the profusion of their thanks.
''Any one would have acted precisely as I have, under similar circumstances. I therefore beg you to spare me from further thanks. But, my dear sir, do you feel ill? Madame, allow me to support Mr. Livermore.'
'A sudden change came over his features; a deathlike paleness overspread his countenance, his eyelids became half-closed, his breathing grew short, his hands clenched, and a nervous tremor shook his entire frame. For a few moments I feared he was at the point of death. I promptly assisted him to his couch.
''Are you surgeon enough to bleed him?' inquired Adéle.
''Yes, I will not hesitate if you desire me to do so.'
'We soon divested Arthur of his coat, stripped his arm, and while I went in search of an impromptu lancet, Adéle prepared the needful bandages.
''Be quick, I implore you,' said she. 'Once before I saw him as he now is; there is not a moment to be lost.'
'Need I confess that the entrance of a guardian angel in the shape of a skillful disciple of Esculapius would have been hailed by me as an especial joy? However, no such angel came, neither was he within call; so as the danger struck me as imminent, and his condition appeared growing every moment more critical, I argued, without bleeding he would undoubtedly die, whereas by my attempt, however clumsy, he might rally. I plucked up my courage to the sticking-point, and stuck my patient. I drew several ounces of blood. My fair assistant displayed the most undeniable, I can hardly say irreproachable, coolness, for really, to my fancy, she was a little too much self-possessed. As soon as the bandages were applied, Arthur's consciousness returned.
''Ah! thanks, thanks,' said he, addressing me in a low, faltering tone. 'The crisis has now passed.'
''Over-excitement, doubtless, produced it?'
''Yes,' said he, 'any excitement is dangerous for one like me. You see in me a man condemned to death by every member of the faculty that I have ever consulted. I dare say you mean kindly, and by that look of incredulity, you would seek to comfort me.'
''Well, doctors are often mistaken,' I said.
''True; but I am convinced their predictions in my case will be literally fulfilled, for when this terrible disease of the heart once lays its hold upon a man, it never relaxes its deadly grasp. But,' said he, raising himself to a sitting posture, 'but I will not die, I must live. One fixed purpose, one great aim sustains me, and I feel that till I have accomplished this, the thread of life, frail as I know it is, strained as I feel it oft to be, still, still I have a firm presentiment it will hold out.'
''Arthur, dear Arthur!' broke in the voice of Adéle, as she leaned over his shoulder, 'you know after such a paroxysm, repose is necessary. No more conversation to-night; strive to calm your nerves, and to enjoy the tranquil influence of sleep. Do this, I beg, I implore you.'
'With the docility of a petted child he yielded, and reclining his head upon his pillow, soon sank into a deep sleep. It was now verging upon three o'clock, and at my solicitation Adéle retired to my apartment, while I kept watch beside my patient's couch.
'The mysterious individual whose conduct had so puzzled me, and to whom I had been so strangely introduced, seemed to be a man of about thirty, decidedly handsome, and of striking mien, of elegant manners, and evidently accustomed to refined society. His hair, which curled naturally, was, however, growing thin; a few deep lines were furrowed on his brow, and the corners of his mouth wore, as it were, unconsciously, at times, a disdainful air, and as he slept I could trace how the fire of youthful passion had brought his manhood to premature decay.
'Although the veil of mystery had been rent, my curiosity was only whetted, by no means gratified. Who could this man be for whose arrival, according to my hostess' account, he had been waiting with such feverish impatience? What journey could he have returned from, in such shattered health; and finally, what was this great purpose, on the successful issue of which, he seemed to stake his all, on which he declared his life to hang?
'Again the undefinable spell that seemed to attach to the fascinating Adéle, filled my mind with reveries of wondrous interest. What was her part in this drama that was enacting so close beside me? Was she the victim or the enchantress? During the long vigils of that night, I asked this question of myself many a time and oft, and yet could arrive at no solution of my doubts. The soft, regular sound, produced by her breathing, in the next room, the door of which remained ajar—for she had thrown herself upon my bed, without removing her apparel—fell upon my ear, and proved she slept in all the tranquillity of innocence. And yet the very tranquillity of that sleep almost excited my displeasure; for it seemed to evince a listless, reckless indifference to danger, a lack of tender, womanly sympathy for suffering and sickness, that might indeed arise from a heart untouched by any love, save that of self.
'I was just rolling up another cigarette, when, as the day dawned, Adéle entered. She was lovely, and radiant with smiles. The closest and most sagacious observer would have failed to discern the slightest trace of the excitement through which she had passed but a few short hours before. She thanked me for my kind assistance, with a bewitching grace, almost girlish in its simplicity, and begged me to retire, and take the rest she felt assured I must need. Before so doing, however, it was agreed that the door leading to my room should in future remain unfastened, in case of a recurrence of the danger that had menaced her the previous night.
'Feeling no drowsiness, but rather a desire for fresh air, I mounted to the cupola that adorned the roof of our house, and for a couple of hours I sat there, enjoying the delicious breeze and the picturesque panorama that lay beneath my feet, and the motley groups that swarmed to early prayers up the Cathedral steps.
'At last, I felt like strengthening the inner man, and determined to step down as far as Véroley's, the fashionable café of the city, and there to take a right good breakfast. I returned to my room to replenish my purse, and to take my dagger and revolver. I found the purse and revolver on the shelf where I had left them, untouched, but my search for the dagger proved fruitless. Yet with it I had wrenched out the staples that fastened the door, and to my knowledge no one had had access to my room since that time, save Adéle.
'After taking my breakfast, and calling for my letters, I paid one or two visits, and ere I returned home, it was well nigh three in the afternoon.
'I had not been seated long, ere Mr. Livermore entered. He appeared to have completely recovered from his attack.
''Of two evils, the adage advises us to choose the lesser. I would, therefore, prefer to appear intrusive rather than ungrateful; so excuse me if I trespass on your time or your patience. After the generous devotion you displayed last night, and after what Adéle moreover has told me, I feel I am bound to inform you whom you have thus befriended; for, as you have already learned, Albert Pride is not my real name.'
'I hastened to offer to my neighbor the seat of honor, my magnificent rocking-chair, not only as a mark of politeness, but thinking that as he was about to tell me something, if he were only comfortably ensconced, very interesting, he might find himself so much at his ease that he would make a much cleaner breast of it.
'My little surmise proved correct; he accepted my proffered civility, and proceeded to give me a long and very interesting account of his parentage and youth. Suffice it to say, that he was a native of Tennessee, and being left an orphan at an early age, had, like thousands of others, passed through a brief career of folly and extravagance. He had become acquainted with Adéle and her family some two years previously, and had been married to her about four months, under the impression, as he had told her husband on the previous night, that a divorce had been obtained.
'What most excited my surprise, in his recital, was, that while Percival had accused her of having deserted him because she deemed him ruined, Arthur told me that she married him, knowing him to be almost penniless. But I will give you his own words:
''I explained to her my desperate position, when she replied: 'It matters not; in return for the fortune you have squandered, I will give you that which shall produce an income far beyond your boyish dreams.'
''A horrible suspicion flashed across my mind; I feared her reason was impaired.
'''Adéle,' I exclaimed, 'in mercy, jest not; but explain yourself.'
'''I will, Arthur; but first of all, I must exact from you the most solemn vow, that under no circumstances will you divulge to mortal man or woman, the secret I am about to confide to you.''
'At this point, Mr. Livermore checked himself suddenly, as if he had said too much, and then added:
''I regret, my dear sir, that I can merely add, that I gave Adéle the solemn pledge she required, and that my presence here, in the city of Mexico, to-day, is merely the result of the secret then intrusted to me.'
'I was still under the impression that this narrative had produced, when Adéle softly entered the apartment.
''Arthur,' said she, in a low whisper, 'there is some one knocking at the door of the ante-chamber.'
''Remain here,' said he, rising from his seat, 'I will go and open it.'
''Do not let him go alone, I beg of you,' said Adéle. 'Who knows of what service your presence may be to-day, or of what value your testimony may be hereafter? Possibly, it may save money, if not life; but why go without your hat and gloves?' she added, as I was leaving the room bare-headed, 'you must pass for a visitor, not for a fellow-lodger.'
'Lost in admiration of her ready tact and coolness, I reached Arthur Livermore's sitting-room, just as he opened the door.
''Pepito,' exclaimed he.
''Ay, Caballero, Pepito himself, in perfect health, and ever your most devoted servant.''
[TO BE CONCLUDED.]