“Yes, she may be, but it is not very likely that she is.”
Paul grew almost faint. He knew that the woman’s voice was that of Scott’s wife. He was sure of it. And the man had called her Rene. But why was she there at that late hour conversing in such a place with such a man? Oh, how Paul’s heart ached for good, generous, noble, much wronged Scott Wilmer! He hoped Scott would never know of his wife’s treachery. He had learned now from her own lips that she had not married Scott for love, but for wealth and a position in society. How could Irene help seeing what a prize she had won in such a man!
“Now, don’t you forget what you are about,” said Crisp, for he it was who had been holding the conversation with Scott’s wife.
“No,” she answered, folding her dark wrap close about her. “I am nearly frozen, and I must get home.”
She left the place, and ere long was followed by Crisp, who, when he reached the walk, went in an opposite direction. Paul waited until the two had gone far 101 enough that they could not hear his footsteps. He followed Irene, however, keeping well in the rear. He wished to be certain that he had not been deceived, so he kept up his watch until he saw her enter the great hall door.
After remaining long enough outside so not to arouse her suspicions he entered the house, going directly to his room.
He would bear any pain rather than see Scott’s suffering, should the truth be revealed, so whatever he planned must be done without help and without his employer’s knowledge. He knew the exact hour when the villain would make his appearance and he waited patiently for the time to come. The door of his room, which opened into Scott’s, he left lightly ajar, that he might watch every movement, for he knew that Crisp would enter from the hall. Irene had gone to her own room. The inmates of the house were all asleep except Paul and Irene, both waiting and watching with feverish anxiety. With cautious step Irene glided down the softly carpeted stairs, and turned the lock in the great heavy door; then returned to her room to wait for the villain who was to take her husband’s money, and perhaps his life. A stealthy footstep soon fell upon the hall floor, and a man stealing along with catlike motions pushed the door carefully open and entered Scott’s room. He stopped for a moment under the dim gaslight which fell upon his hideous features, and, looking about the room, gave one long stride and reached the money drawer. Paul’s heart throbbed wildly. He knew there was no time to be lost. Should he take the 102 villain’s life? He knew he deserved it, but could he do the deed? Yes, rather than that Scott should suffer, he could. There was a slight movement of the bedclothes, and, with the look of a demon resting on his face, Crisp drew a long knife from his pocket and raised his hand to strike. Quick as the lightning’s flash Paul raised his pistol, and with steady aim fired. The ball struck the villain’s arm and he fled like a wounded deer, screaming with pain. Paul stooped and picked up the knife and a paper which the wounded man had dropped, and placed them in his pocket. Scott raised his head just as Crisp was leaving the door. Mrs. Wilmer entered the room, pale and trembling, and, sinking into a chair, asked:
“Oh, Scott, are you killed?”
“No one is harmed but a burglar,” Paul answered, calmly, “and he is only wounded. I just caught sight of him in the act of drawing a knife over Mr. Wilmer’s head. I expect he was looking for money, as his first attempt was in that direction, but when he saw Mr. Wilmer move he thought best to quiet him, so I judge by his actions. I did not intend to kill him, but I guess he has learned a lesson which he will not soon forget.”
The next day the sole topic of conversation throughout the house was the heroic action of Paul, who had saved its inmates from a terrible sorrow, and not one could find words to express their deep gratitude unless it might have been Irene. She tried hard to join the rest in praising Paul, but he knew that in her heart she was laying up curses against him, though he did not know just how deeply she had planned to ruin him.