"Rather say the furies driv me. I wasn"t myself. It was another fellow that woman married: the true man staid with you, and here he is, just the same as ever, if you would only believe it--but you won"t, you won"t!"
"How can I believe it, Mr. Stacy, after abandoning me so?"
"But not till you driv me to it--not till you had slapped my face with that precious little hand."
"Mr. Stacy, I--I"m glad you care for me a little, because I want a great favor of you."
Stacy sat upright in the iron seat, and pulled down his white vest with a couple of jerks.
"A favor, did you say?"
"Yes, a great favor."
"And what may its nature be, Miss Maggie?"
"Mr. Stacy, you are a rich man."
Stacy was troubled. To deny his wealth was a terrible sacrifice of vanity--to admit it might be exposing himself to depredation.
"Well, yes," he said at last, "I am rich. No one in New York would doubt that; but over here one has such trouble in getting funds, you understand. It was only this morning Mrs. Stacy wanted money for a little shopping, as she called it; but I couldn"t give it to her--upon my soul I couldn"t."
"Then, it would be of no use to ask you for a loan of twenty-five pounds, as I thought of doing."
"A loan of twenty-five pounds, my dear Maggie! Five hundred pounds would not be too much, if I were only in New York; but here in London, where Alderman Stacy is not known, I could not raise even the miserable sum you want--I could not, indeed."
Maggie"s eyes began to flash, for she understood the meanness of this man, and despised it; but she thought of that anxious group in Olympia"s parlor, and resolved to have the money.
"Still, considering everything, I think you will try to oblige me."
"Don"t ask me. It wounds my manhood to refuse; but let us talk of something else--those dear old times--"
"No," said Margaret, unlocking one of her bracelets, and closing it with a vicious snap. "If you cannot let me have it, I will go to your wife."
"My wife? You go to my wife! Why, she hates you like pison!"
"And I am not very fond of her; but I want this money, and she will have to give it me."
Stacy pulled down his vest again, and broke into a mellow laugh.
"Well, I _should_ like to see you try it on! What would you say to her, Maggie?"
"I would say: Mrs. Matthew Stacy, you and I were fellow-servants together in New York, where the lady was murdered; and for some days, you and I, and the person you have married, were left in charge of all the valuable property that house had in it. One of those nights I went away, leaving everything in its place. When I came back again the wardrobes had been plundered, the bureaus broken open, the wine-cellar pillaged."
Matthew Stacy had been growing crimson while Maggie spoke. He put up a hand to his throat, as if something were choking him, and tore open a b.u.t.ton or two of his vest; then he gasped out:
"Miss Maggie, Miss Maggie, do you mean to insinuate that I or my wife Harriet--"
"I don"t mean to insinuate anything, because what I say I know. You and your wife took these things. I knew it at the time; I can prove it now."
"Prove it fourteen years after?"
"Some things do not wear out--jewelry and India shawls, for instance. I was at the Opera not long since. My sister, who used to come and visit me so often, is a little in that line, and I used to show her all the shawls and splendid dresses our mistress used to have. Well, that night at the Opera we both saw your wife, sitting by you, with the best shawl the madam had, on her own shoulders. We knew it at a glimpse. There isn"t another just like it to be found in England or America. That shawl, Matthew Stacy, is worth thousands of dollars, and your wife, Harriet Long, the cook, was wearing it."
"Margaret! Margaret Casey, you had better take care."
"I have taken care. This woman had a gold-mounted opera-gla.s.s in her hand that we both can swear to. Besides that, she had a little watch at her side, set thick with diamonds. That watch she took to a jeweller to be mended. It is in his hands yet. When I leave this seat, it will be my first business to make sure that she never gets the watch again."
"But it is fourteen years--time enough for anything to be outlawed."
"I have asked about that. Crimes are not like debts--they cannot be outlawed, Mr. Stacy."
"And you could find it in your heart to hunt down an old sweetheart like that, providing all you say is true? I wouldn"t a believed it of you, Maggie."
"It seems to me that sweetheart just now refused to lend me twenty-five pounds."
"Refused! No, he did not refuse."
Matthew caught his breath, and changed his wheedling tone all at once. A new idea had struck him.
"But, supposing what you say is true, there isn"t any one in England to prosecute--"
"Yes, there is the lady"s agent. He sat by you when we first saw the shawl. Mr. Hepworth Closs."
Matthew Stacy sprang to his feet, perfectly aghast.
"And you have told him?"
"Not yet; but I mean to!"
"You mean to--"
"Yes, I do!"
"That is it--that is it--the self-same cretur that left the print of her fingers on my cheek, and of herself on my heart. It is her who wishes to cast me to the earth, and have me stamped on by the law. Oh, Maggie Casey, Maggie Casey, I wouldn"t have believed it of you!"
"And I wouldn"t have believed you capable of refusing me fifty pounds!"
"Fifty pounds! It was twenty-five, Miss Margaret."
"Yes; but I"ve changed my mind. One does not want to be refused a miserable sum like that. I"ve doubled it."
"But I did not refuse; I only wanted to put the subject off till we had talked of old times--I didn"t refuse you by any manner of means. You hadn"t told me anything about yourself--how you came here, and what you were doing, or anything that an old lover"s heart was panting to know."
"Well, I will tell you now. I have been, ever since that time, in the family of a n.o.bleman, as a sort of half servant, half companion to his daughter."
"You don"t say so! Then what on earth can you want of twenty-five pounds?"
"Fifty."