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Page 20
"Is it Holman Blake I am listening to," said she; "I do not recognize
my old friend in the cool and sarcastic man of the world now before
me."
"We often fail to recognize the work of our hands, madame, after it
has fallen from our grasp."
"What," she cried, "do you mean--would you say that--"
"I would say nothing," interrupted he calmly, stooping for the fan she
had dropped. "At an interview which is at once a meeting and a
parting, I would give utterance to nothing which would seem like
recrimination. I--"
"Wait," suddenly exclaimed she, reaching out her hand for her fan with
a gesture lofty as it was resolute. "You have spoken a word which
demands explanation; what have I ever done to you that you should
speak the word recrimination to me?"
"What? You shook my faith in womankind; you showed me that a woman who
had once told a man she loved him, could so far forget that love as
to marry one she could never respect, for the sake of titles and
jewels. You showed me--"
"Hold," said she again, this time without gesture or any movement,
save that of her lips grown pallid as marb!e[sic], "and what did you
show me?"
He started, colored profoundly, and for a moment stood before her
unmasked of his stern self-possession. "I beg your pardon," said he,
"I take back that word, recrimination."
It was now her turn to lift her head and survey him. With glance less
cool than his, but fully as deliberate, she looked at his proud head
bending before her; studying his face, line by line, from the stern
brow to the closely compressed lips on which melancholy seemed to have
set its everlasting seal, and a change passed over her countenance.
"Holman," said she, with a sudden rush of tenderness, "if in the times
gone by, we both behaved with too much worldly prudence for it now to
be any great pleasure for either of us to look back, is that any
reason why we should mar our whole future by dwelling too long upon
what we are surely still young enough to bury if not forget? I
acknowledge that I would have behaved in a more ideal fashion, if,
after I had been forsaken by you, I had turned my face from society,
and let the canker-worm of despair slowly destroy whatever life and
bloom I had left. But I was young, and society had its charms, so did
the prospect of wealth and position, however hollow they may have
proved; you who are the master of both this day, because twelve
months ago you forsook Evelyn Blake, should be the last to reproach
me with them. I do not reproach you; I only say let the past be
forgotten--"
"Impossible," exclaimed he, his whole face darkening with an
expression I could not fathom. "What was done at that time cannot be
undone. For you and me there is no future. Yes," he said turning
towards her as she made a slight fluttering move of dissent, "no
future; we can bury the past, but we can not resurrect it. I doubt if
you would wish to if we could; as we cannot, of course you will not
desire even to converse upon the subject again. Evelyn I wanted to
see you once, but I do not wish to see you again; will you pardon my
plain speaking, and release me?"
"I will pardon your plain speaking, but--" Her look said she would not
release him.
He seemed to understand it so, and smiled, but very bitterly. In
another moment he had bowed and gone, and she had returned to her
crowd of adoring sycophants.
CHAPTER VI
A BIT OF CALICO
It was about this time that I took up my residence in a sort of
lodging-house that occupied the opposite corner to that of Mr. Blake.
My room, as I took pains to have it, overlooked the avenue, and from
its windows I could easily watch the goings and comings of the
gentleman whose movements were daily becoming of more and more
interest to me. For set it down to caprice--and men are often as
capricious as women--or account for it as you will, his restlessness
at this period was truly remarkable. Not a day that he did not spend
his time in walking the streets, and that not in his usual aimless
gentlemanly fashion, but eagerly and with an intent gaze that roamed
here and there, like a bird seeking its prey. It would often be as
late as five o'clock before he came in, and if, as now frequently
happened, he did not have company to dinner, he was even known to
start out again after seven o'clock and go over the same ground as in
the morning, looking with strained gaze, that vainly endeavored to
appear unconcerned, into the faces of the women that he passed. I not
unfrequently followed him at these times as much for my own amusement
as from any hope I had of coming upon anything that should aid me in
the work before me. But when he suddenly changed his route of travel
from a promenade in the fashionable thoroughfares of Broadway and
Fourteenth Street to a walk through Chatham Square and the dark,
narrow streets of the East side, I began to scent whom the prey might
be that he was seeking, and putting every other consideration aside,
regularly set myself to dog his steps, as only I, with my innumerable
disguises, knew how to do. For three separate days I kept at his
heels wherever he went, each day growing more and more astonished if
not to say hopeful, as I found myself treading the narrowest and most
disreputable streets of the city; halting at the shops of
pawnbrokers; peering into the back-rooms of liquor shops; mixing with
the crowds that infest the corner groceries at nightfall, and even
slinking with hand on the trigger of the pistol I carried in my
pocket, up dark alleys where every door that swung noiselessly to and
fro as we passed, shut upon haunts of such villainy as only is known
to us of the police, or to those good souls that for the sake of One
whose example they follow, lay aside their fears and sensitiveness to
carry light into the dim pits of this wretched world. At first I
thought Mr. Blake might have some such reason for the peculiar course
he took. But his indifference to all crowds where only men were
collected, his silence where a word would have been well received,
convinced me it was a woman he was seeking and that with an intentness
which blinded him to the commonest needs of the hour. I even saw him
once in his hurry and abstraction, step across the body of a child
who had fallen face downward on the stones, and that with an
expression showing he was utterly unconscious of anything but an
obstacle in his path. The strangest part of it all was that he seemed
to have no fear. To be sure he took pains to leave his watch at home;
but with such a figure and carriage as he possessed, the absence of
jewelry could never deceive the eye for a moment as to the fact of his
being a man of wealth, and those he went among would do anything for
money. Perhaps, like me, he carried a pistol. At all events he
shunned no spot where either poverty lay hid or deviltry reigned, his
proud stern head bending to enter the lowest doors without a tremble
of the haughty lips that remained compressed as by an iron force;
except when some poor forlorn creature with flaunting head-gear, and
tremulous hands, attracted by his bearing would hastily brush against
him, when he would turn and look, perhaps speak, though what he said
I always failed to catch; after which he would hurry on as if
possessed by seven devils. The evenings of those three days were
notable also. Two of them he spent in the manner I have described;
the third he went to the Windsor House--where the Countess De Mirac
had taken rooms--going up to the ladies' entrance and actually
ringing the bell, only to start back and walk up and down on the
opposite side of the way, with his hands behind his back, and his
head bent, evidently deliberating as to whether he should or should
not carry out his original intention of entering. The arrival of a
carriage with the stately subject of his deliberations, who from her
elaborate costume had seemingly been to some kettledrum or private
reception, speedily put an end to his doubts. As the door opened to
admit her, I saw him cast one look at her heavily draped person, with
its snowy opera-cloak drawn tightly over the sweeping folds of her
maize colored silk, and shrink back with what sounded like a sigh of
anger or distrust, and without waiting for the closing of the door
upon her, turn toward home with a step that hesitated no longer.
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