He had always loved Celia Hathaway more than he could have loved anyone or anything else besides himself, and it had eaten into his very being that he never could make her bow to him; not even by torture could he bring her to her knees. Stung by the years of her scorn he had stooped lower and lower in his methods of dealing with her until he had come at last to employ the tools of slow torture to her soul that he might bring low her pride and put her fortune and her scornful self within his power. The strength with which she had withheld him until the time of her surrender had turned his selfish love into a hate with contemplations of revenge.
But now her eyes glowed scornfully, wreathed round with bridal white, and seemed to taunt him with his foolish defeat at this the last minute before the final triumph.
Undoubtedly the brandy he had taken had gone to his head. Was he going mad that he could not get away from all these terrible eyes?
He felt sure he was dying when at last the janitor came up to the fourth floor on his round of inspection, noticed the light flaring from the transom over the door occupied by the stranger who had said he was going to leave on a trip almost immediately, and went in to investigate. The eyes vanished at his step. The man in the closet lost no time in making his presence known, and the janitor, cautiously, and with great deliberation made careful investigation of the cause and reason for this disturbance and finally let him out, after having received promise of reward which never materialized.
The stranger flew to the telephone in frantic haste, called up the house of his affianced bride, shouting wildly at the operator for all undue delays, and when finally he succeeded in getting some one to the ’phone it was only to be told that neither Mrs. Hathaway nor her son were there. Were they at the church? “Oh, no,” the servant answered, “they came back from the church long ago. There is a wedding in the house, and a great many people. They are making so much noise I can’t hear. Speak louder please!”
He shouted and raved at the servant, asking futile questions and demanding information, but the louder he raved the less the servant understood and finally he hung up the receiver and dashed about the room like an insane creature, tearing off his wilted collar, grabbing at another, jerking on his fine coat, searching vainly for his cuffs, snatching his hat and overcoat, and making off down the stairs; breathlessly, regardless of the demand of the janitor for the fee of freedom he had been promised.
Out in the street he rushed hither and thither blindly in search of some conveyance, found a taxicab at last, and, plunging in, ordered it to go at once to the Hathaway address.
Arrived there, he presented an enlivening spectacle to the guests, who were still making merry. His trousers were covered with French chalk, his collar had slipped from its confining button in front and curved gracefully about one fat cheek, his high hat was a crush indeed, having been rammed down to his head in his excitement. He talked so fast and so loud that they thought he was crazy and tried to put him out, but he shook his fist angrily in the face of the footman and demanded to know where Miss Hathaway was? When they told him she was married and gone, he turned livid with wrath and told them that that was impossible, as he was the bridegroom.
By this time the guests had gathered in curious groups in the hall and on the stairs, listening, and when he claimed to be the bridegroom they shouted with laughter, thinking this must be some practical joke or else that the man was insane. But one older gentleman, a friend of the family, stepped up to the excited visitor and said in a quieting voice:
“My friend, you have made a mistake! Miss Hathaway has this evening been married to Mr. George Hayne, just arrived from abroad, and they are at this moment on their way to take the train. You have come too late to see her, or else you have the wrong address, and are speaking of some other Miss Hathaway. That is very likely the explanation.”