"Yes--no, no!" and Arthur"s voice indicated growing alarm and uneasiness as he looked rapidly around him, "Where is she? Didn"t you see her? She was with me all the way. Surely she got off when I did. Where can she have gone?"
He was greatly excited, and kept peering through the darkness as he talked; while John, a good deal puzzled, looked curiously at him, as if uncertain whether he were in his right mind or not.
"Was there some one with you in the car?" he asked.
"Yes, in the car, and in New York, and on the ship. She was with me all the way," Mr. Tracy replied. "It is strange where she is now. Did no one alight from the train when I did?"
"No one," John answered, more puzzled than ever.... "I was looking for you, and there was no one else. She may have fallen asleep and been carried by."
"Yes, probably that is it," Mr. Tracy said, more cheerfully, "she was asleep and carried by. She will come back to-morrow."
He seemed quite content with this solution of the mystery, and began to talk of his luggage, which lay upon the platform--a pile so immense that John looked at it in some alarm, knowing that the carriage could never take it all.
"Eight trunks, two portmanteaus, and a hat-box!" he said, aloud, counting the pieces.
"Yes, and a nice sum those rascally agents in New York made me pay for having them come with me," Arthur rejoined. "They weighed them all, and charged me a little fortune. I might as well have sent them by express; but I wanted them with me, and here they are. What will you do with them? This is hers," and he designated a black trunk or box, longer and larger than two ordinary trunks ought to be.
"I can take one of them with the box and portmanteau, and the expressman will take the rest. He is here. Hallo, Brown," John said, calling to a man in the distance, who came forward, and, on learning what was wanted, begun piling the trunks into his wagon, while Arthur followed John, to the carriage, which he entered, and, sinking into a seat, pulled his broad-brimmed hat over his face and eyes, and sat as motionless as if he had been a stone.
For a moment John stood looking at him, wondering what manner of man he was, and thinking, too, of the woman who, he said, had been with him in the train, and who should have alighted with him. At last, remembering suddenly a message his master had given him, he began:
"If you please, sir, Mr. Tracy told me to tell you he was very sorry that he could not come himself to meet you. If he had known that you were coming sooner, he would have done different; but he did not get your telegram till this morning, and then it was too late to stop it. We are having a great break-down to-night."
During the first of these remarks Arthur had given no sign that he heard, but when John spoke of a break-down, he lifted his head quickly, and the great black eyes, which Harold noticed later as peculiar, flashed a look of inquiry upon John, as he said:
"Break-down? What is that!"
"A party--a smasher! Mr. Tracy is running for Congress." was John"s reply.
And then over the thin face there crept a ghost of a smile, which, faint as it was, changed the expression wonderfully.
"Oh, a party!" he said. "Well, I will be a guest, too. I have my dress-suit in some of those trunks. Frank is going to Congress, is he?
That"s a good joke! Drive on. What are you standing there for?"
The carriage door was shut, and, mounting the box, John drove as rapidly toward Tracy Park as the darkness of the night would admit, while the pa.s.senger inside sat with his hat over his eyes, and his chin almost touching his breast, as if absorbed in thought, or else not thinking at all. Once, however, he spoke to himself, and said:
"Poor little Gretchen! I wonder how I could have forgotten and left her in the train. What will she do alone in a strange place? But perhaps Heaven will take care of her. She always said so. I wish I had her faith and could believe as she does. Poor little Gretchen!"
They had turned into the park by this time, and very soon draw up before the house, from every window of which lights were flashing, while the sounds of music and dancing could be distinctly heard.
Something like Frank"s idea came into Arthur"s mind at the sight.
"It makes me think of the return of the prodigal, only I have not wasted my substance and my father does not come to meet me," he said, as he descended from the carriage and went up the broad steps to the piazza, on which a few young people were walking, unmindful of the chill night air.
"I need not ring at my own house," Arthur thought, as he opened the door and stepped into the hall; and thus it was that the first intimation which Frank had of his arrival was when he saw him standing in the midst of a crowd of people, who were gazing curiously at him.
"Arthur!" he exclaimed, rushing forward and taking his brother"s hand.
"Welcome home again! I did not hear the carriage, though I was listening for it. I am so glad to see you! Come with me to your room;" and he led the way up stairs to the apartment prepared for the stranger.
He had seen at a glance that Arthur was alone, unless, indeed, he had brought a servant who had gone to the side door; and thus relieved from a load of anxiety, he was very cordial in his manner, and began at once to make excuses for the party, repeating in substance what John had already said.
"Yes, I know; that fellow who drove me here told me," Arthur said, throwing off his coat and hat, and beginning to lave his face, and neck, and hands in the cold water which he turned into the bowl until it was full to the brim, and splashed over the sides as he dashed it upon himself.
All this time Frank had not seen his face distinctly, nor did he have an opportunity to do so until the ablutions were ended and Arthur had rubbed himself with, not one towel, but two, until it seemed as if he must have taken off the skin in places. Then he turned, and running his fingers through his luxuriant hair, which had a habit of curling around his forehead as in his boyhood, looked full at his brother, who saw that he was very pale and thin, and that his eyes were unnaturally large and bright, while there was about him an indescribable something which puzzled Frank a little. It was not altogether the air of foreign travel and cultivation which was so perceptible, but a something else--a restlessness and nervousness of speech and manner as he moved about the room, walking rapidly and gesticulating as he walked.
"You are looking thin and tired. Are you not well?" Frank asked.
"Oh, yes, perfectly well," Arthur replied: "only this infernal heat in my blood, which keeps me up to fever pitch all the time. I shall have to bathe my face again," and, turning a second time to the bowl, he began to throw water over his face and hands as he had done before.
"I"d like a bath in ice water," he said, as he began drying himself with a fresh towel. "If I remember right, there is no bath-room on this floor, but I can soon have one built. I intend to throw down the wall between this room and the next, and perhaps the next, so as to have a suite."
He was a.s.serting the ownership at once, and Frank had nothing to say, for his brother was master there, and had a right to tear the house down if he chose. The second washing must have cooled him, for there came a change in his manner, and he moved more slowly and spoke with greater deliberation, as he asked some questions about the people below.
"Will you come down by-and-bye," Frank said, after having made some explanations with regard to his guests.
"No, you will have to excuse me," Arthur replied. "I am too tired to encounter old acquaintances or make new. I do not believe I could stand old Peterkin, who you say is a millionaire. I suppose you want his influence; your coachman told me you were running for Congress," and Arthur laughed the old merry musical laugh which Frank remembered so well: then, suddenly changing his tune, he said: "When does the next train from the East pa.s.s the station?"
Frank told him at seven the next morning, and he continued:
"Please send the carriage to meet it. Gretchen will probably be there.
She was in the train with me, and should have gotten out when I did, but she must have been asleep and carried by."
"Gr-gr-gretchen! Who is she?" Frank stammered, while the cold sweat began to run down his back.
The "us" in the telegram did mean something, and mischief, too, to his interests, he felt intuitively.
Instantly into Arthur"s eyes there stole a look of cunning, and a peculiar smile played round his mouth as he replied:
"She is Gretchen. See that the carriage goes for her, will you?"
His voice and manner indicated that he wished the conference ended, and with a great sinking at his heart Frank left the room and returned to his guests and his wife, who had not seen the stranger when he entered the hall, and thus did not know of Arthur"s arrival until her husband rejoined her.
"He has come," he whispered to her, while she whispered back:
"Is he alone?"
"Yes, but somebody is coming to-morrow; I do not know who; Gretchen, he calls her," was Frank"s reply.
"Gretchen!" Mrs. Tracy repeated, in a trembling voice. "Who is she?"
"I don"t know. He merely said she was Gretchen; his daughter, perhaps,"
was Frank"s answer, which sent the color from his wife"s cheeks, and made her so faint and sick that she would have given much to be alone and think over this evil coming upon her the next day in the shape of the mysterious Gretchen.
Meantime when left to himself, Arthur changed his mind with regard to going down into the parlors to see his brother"s guests, and, unlocking the trunk which held his own wardrobe he took out an evening suit fresh from the hands of a London tailor, and, arraying himself in it, stood for a moment before the gla.s.s to see the effect. Everything was faultless, from his neck-tie to his boots; and, opening the door, he went out into the hall, which was empty, except for Harold, who was sitting near the stairs, half asleep again. Most of the guests were in the supper-room, but a few of the younger portion were dancing, and the strains of music were heard with great distinctness in the upper hall.
"Ugh!" Arthur said, with a shiver, as he stopped a moment to listen, while his quick eye took in every detail of the furniture and its arrangement in the hall. "That violinist ought to be hung--the pianist, too! Don"t they know what horrid discord they are making? It brings that heat back. I believe, upon my soul, I shall have to bathe my face again."
Suiting the action to the word, he went back and washed his face for the third time; then returning to the hall, he advanced toward Harold, who was now wide awake and stood up to meet him. As Arthur met the clear-brown eyes fixed so curiously upon him, he stopped suddenly, and put his hand to his head as if trying to recall something; then going a step or two nearer to Harold, he said: