Here she found everything prepared for her comfort, as if it had been done by the hands of a woman. She took off her bonnet and shawl, brushed her clothes, bathed her face and hands, smoothed her raven ringlets, took a fresh cambric handkerchief from her pocket and saturated it with Cologne from the toilet-table, and then pa.s.sed out again into the parlor.
Her devoted slave was waiting for her there. And on the table, in addition to the other comforts, there was a little silver pot of rich aromatic coffee.
"Why, have you a cook?" inquired Mrs. Grey, in some disturbance.
"No, darling; I made that coffee myself. Sit down now and try it,"
smiled the poor fellow.
"You are a jewel!" she said, as all her disturbance disappeared, and she sat down to the table.
He waited on her with affectionate solicitude, helping her to coffee and cream, to chicken salad and pickled oysters; changing her plate and pressing her to try the jellies and the cakes, or the fruit and ices, until she had feasted like a princess.
He, in the meantime, ate but little, seeming to feed upon the sight of her enjoyment. At length she pushed her plate and cup away and declared she could touch nothing more.
Then he arose as if to clear the service; but she stopped him, saying:
"Leave it just as it is and come and sit with me on the porch outside.
The night is beautiful, and I want to sit there and talk with you. I have something to propose."
And she ran into the back room for her bonnet and shawl.
He got up and gave her his arm and took her out upon the porch.
And they sat down together on the bench, under thickly overhanging vine-leaves.
"Craven," she murmured, with her head upon his shoulder, "do you really love me as much as you profess to do?"
"Do I really love you?" he repeated, with impa.s.sioned earnestness. "Oh, how shall I prove to you how much? Protestations are but words. Show me how I can prove to you how much I love you! Put me to the test! Try me--_try me!_"
She hesitated and sighed--perhaps in pity and remorse for this poor boy, who loved her so devotedly, and whom she was about to require to pay down his honor and his life as the price of her hand.
"Oh, tell me how I can show you the height and depth and breadth--no; I should rather say the immeasurability of my infinite love!" he pleaded, prayerfully.
Again she sighed and trembled--yes, trembled at the contemplation of the wickedness she was about to perpetrate; but she did not draw back from it. She slid her arm around his neck and kissed him softly, and then said:
"Listen to me, Craven, my dearest. This is Monday night, you know."
"Yes," he said, attentively.
"On Wednesday morning I am to start for Philadelphia."
"Oh!" he exclaimed, uneasily.
"Hush! Wait until you hear me out. You must meet me in Philadelphia on Friday morning. And we will be married on Friday noon."
He was struck speechless, breathless, for a few moments with the excess of his delight.
Then he panted forth the words:
"Oh, bless you! Bless you, my queen, my angel! I bless you for this great joy!"
"You must be calm, my dear, and hear me out. You must be punctual, and meet me on Friday morning at ten o"clock, at _this_ address," she continued, handing him a slip of paper with the address in question written upon it. "There; now put it into your pocket-book and keep it safe."
"I will--I will, my queen! But why may I not go with you?"
"For reasons that I will explain soon. Till I do, you must trust me."
"I trust you utterly."
"Then please leave here for Philadelphia on Tuesday evening, so as to precede me by twelve hours. And on Friday morning, by ten o"clock, be at the place I have designated, and wait until I join you."
"And we will be married the same day?"
"We will be married at noon on the same day. Now do you understand?"
"My mind is in a delirium of joy, but I understand."
"Now, dearest, you must take me out to the carriage," she said, rising and drawing her shawl around her.
He gave her his arm and led her out to the carriage, which the frightened negro coachman had driven quite to the opposite side of the road from the terrible haunted house.
"Now go on to the Misses Cranes"," she said, after she had taken leave of her victim and settled herself in her seat.
It was nearly twelve o"clock when she entered her boarding-house; but she told her waiting landladies that she had spent the day and half the night with the sick child, and they were satisfied.
CHAPTER x.x.xI.
A FATAL JOURNEY.
Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, Accursed and in a cursed hour, she hies.
--MILTON.
On that Wednesday morning the fine steamer "Pocahontas" lay at her wharf receiving freight and pa.s.sengers for Washington and Alexandria.
Her decks were crowded with men, women and children, all either going on the voyage or "seeing off" departing friends and acquaintances.
Among the pa.s.sengers on the forward deck stood a slight, elegant, graceful woman, clothed in widow"s weeds and deeply veiled.
This was, of course, Mary Grey, bound upon her baleful errand.
She had spent the intervening Tuesday with her infatuated instrument, Craven Kyte. But when he pleaded to attend her to the boat and see her off she forbid his doing so on pain of an eternal separation from her.
But she renewed their agreement that he should precede her by twelve hours, and meet her at a designated place in Philadelphia on Friday morning.
And she stayed with him until quite late in the evening, and finally left him comforted with the hope of a speedy meeting and a certain marriage.