_ CHAPTER XLVI. CORA "STIRS UP THE ANIMALS"
It was evening--the evening of the day on which Mrs. Ralston had made her startling revelation. Madeline Payne stood alone in her own room, looking moodily out upon the leafless grove that was fast taking on a covering of snow.
The storm that had been impending for days, had broken at last. For two hours the snow had been falling thickly, steadily, in great feather-like flakes, which quickly covered the brown earth, and clothed the naked treetops with a fair, white garment.
Madeline had been standing, motionless and moody, for many minutes. Her eyes were full of dissatisfaction, and her lips were compressed. She had been taking a mental review of the situation, and its present aspect was far from pleasing.
"What a knot," she soliloquized; "what a difficult, baffling, miserable knot! To be kept thus inactive just because the last knot in the tangle will not come straight--good gracious, how like a pun that sounds! How much longer must I smile upon these wretches? How much longer must I conceal my real feelings? I will put my forces into action, and make my last, desperate venture, for this is becoming intolerable. I must force, or buy, this secret from Edward Percy, at the cost of his safety, or my fortune, if need be."
She pressed her face against the frosted pane, peering down through the gathering night and the snow.
"Mercy!" she ejaculated, "who on earth can be plowing through this storm? And on what errand? It looks like--and, as I live, it is, yes, it is, Mr. Edward Percy! He is too dainty to expose himself for nothing. I must look into this."
While she was musing at the window, Cora, curled up behind one of the crimson curtains of the red parlor, had become the possessor of a valuable secret.
She had entered the room but a few moments before. Finding it dimly lighted, and heated to a Summer temperature, she ensconced herself
a la Sultana in one of the deep window embrasures, and lay sulkily watching the flying snowflakes and the fast coming night. Presently the sound of approaching footsteps, and almost simultaneously the opening of the door, disturbed her quiet. With a quick movement, she drew the curtains together and sat, a silent listener, to a brief dialogue.
The new comers were Miss Arthur and Edward Percy. After a few sentences had been interchanged, Percy left the room, and then it was that Madeline saw him take his way toward the village.
Presently Miss Arthur also quitted the room; and going straight up-stairs, Cora knocked at Madeline's door. "Now, then," muttered she, "I'll stir up the animals."
Madeline did not look especially gratified at sight of her visitor, but Cora entered with scant ceremony. Pushing the door shut with unnecessary emphasis, she turned upon her, saying, rather ungraciously:
"I have made a discovery of which, I think, you will thank me for telling you. And I am going to tell you because I can't spoil their plans, but you can, and I want to see them spoiled."
"Your frankness is commendable," said Madeline, ironically. "Go on!"
"Percy and the old maid are going to be privately married to-morrow morning."
"How do you know?"
Cora related the particulars of her ambush, and gave a concise report of the conversation of the lovers.
"He has gone to the village on that very business now," Cora said. "She is to walk down to the clergyman's house, and he is to meet her there. Then they will come back, and no one to be the wiser."
Madeline laughed. "Be at ease," she said. "I will try and prevent the necessity for such a disagreeable walk as that would be for so fragile a lady. We won't have a wedding just yet."
"What a cool one you are!" cried Cora. "If you were not my enemy, I could admire you vastly."
"Don't, I beg of you," said the girl, gravely. "I am sufficiently humiliated by being obliged to deal with you as an enemy."
Cora flushed angrily. "Then I should think the humiliation of being made love to by my brother, would overcome you," she sneered.
"It does, almost," replied the girl, wearily.
"Then let me do you another favor. Mr. Davlin is no more my brother than he is yours."
Madeline's answer fairly took her breath away. "Madame, you are very good, but I have known that from the first."
"What!" gasped the woman; adding, after a moment of silence, "Is he your lover as well as--"
"Yours?" finished Madeline. "And what then, Mrs. Arthur?"
"Then," hissed Cora; "then, I hate you both."
Madeline laughed bitterly. "As you have told me a secret, and as I don't want to remain in your debt, I will tell you one in return. Lucian Davlin
is my lover, but I am his bitterest foe!"
Cora came closer and looked her eagerly in the face. "What has he done to you?" she asked, breathlessly.
"You may find out later; just now we are even. Understand, no word of warning to him, if you value your safety. Obey my wishes, and when I am done with you, you may go free. Attempt any treachery, and I will give you up to justice."
"I shan't put myself in jeopardy for him now, whatever I might have done. You may believe that."
"I think I may," replied Madeline, dryly.
When Cora retired to her own room, to chuckle over the discomfiture in store for the spinster and Mr. Percy, and to wonder wrathfully what the mystery concerning Miss Payne and Lucian could mean, Madeline stood for many minutes lost in thought.
Finally she threw herself down upon a couch, uttering a half sigh, and looking utterly weary and perplexed. A moment later, Joliffe entered noiselessly, as usual, and the girl said to her:
"When Miss Arthur retires for the night, which won't be for some time, do you see Mr. Percy when he is
alone, mind, and tell him Miss Payne desires him to wait her pleasure in the library."
Joliffe bowed and went out again like a cat.
When, at last, the other members of that incongruous family circle were safely out of the way, Madeline, warned by the everpresent, soundless Joliffe, awaited in the library the coming of Mr. Percy.
Wondering much what the haughty heiress could have to communicate to him, and dimly hoping that the tide was turning in his favor, Mr. Percy entered the presence of the arbiter of his fate. Bowing like a courtier, he approached her.
"Miss Payne has deigned to honor me with an interview," he said, in his slowest, softest, most irresistible manner. "I can never be sufficiently grateful."
Madeline motioned him to a seat opposite her own, saying, with an odd smile: "You shall, at least, have an opportunity for repaying your debt of gratitude, sir, and that immediately."
Percy took the seat indicated and bowed gravely. "Command me, Miss Payne."
"It rests with you," Madeline began, "whether we shall be from to-night neutral toward each other, or enemies."
"Enemies!" he exclaimed. "Oh, that would be impossible."
Madeline was full of inward rage. She longed to lean across the table and dash her hand full in that smiling blonde face. But she looked at him instead quite tranquilly, and said, with a queer smile: "Then you would do me a favor, even at your own personal--inconvenience, Mr. Percy?"
"Would I not?" fervently. "Only command me, Miss Payne."
"I will take you at your word, then. Mr. Percy, you will oblige me very much by putting off your marriage with Miss Arthur one week longer."
Here was a bomb-shell. It electrified the languid gentleman. He became suddenly animated by fear. "What--what do you mean, Miss Payne?" starting half out of his seat and nervously sitting down again.
"Precisely what I say, sir. It does not please me to have my relative leave my house to be married in this clandestine manner. There, don't ask me how I discovered what you thought was a profound secret. You see I did discover it. Will you put off this romantic marriage--to oblige me?"
Percy was trying very hard to think. If he could believe it was because he had found favor in her eyes, that she asked this. But no; even his vanity could not credit that suggestion. Of late she had openly shown a preference for Davlin. What, then, could be her motive? Could it be that at the instigation of Cora she had sought this interview?
He rallied his forces and replied: "Miss Payne, you have taken me by storm. If I may not ask how you made this discovery, may I not, at least, beg to know why you make this demand?"
"I have told you; it shocks my sense of propriety."
"Pardon me if I say there must be another motive."
"You are pardoned," coolly; "now, do you grant my request?"
Percy arose from the table flushed and angry. "Pardon me, Miss Payne, you demand too much."
"Nevertheless, I
do demand it."
"And I beg to decline."
"Then I must deal with Miss Arthur. The knowledge that you have one wife in the grave, and another under this very roof, may have the desired effect upon
her."
Percy dropped back in his chair, pale as ashes. All was lost, then. Cora had betrayed him! But he resolved not to commit himself. Perhaps Madeline had only verbal information. While he was trying to frame a speech, however, she knocked this last prop from under him.
"I may as well assure you that parleying is useless. I have known, from the first moment you entered this house, just upon what terms you stood with Mrs. Arthur. Don't trouble yourself to ask how I know. Perhaps you have been puzzled to know why Mrs. Arthur and her brother so suddenly became cordial and invited you to Oakley, where you so much desired to be. Let me enlighten you. They fancied that you had regained possession of important documents--two marriage certificates, in fact--for they had lost them."
"What?" ejaculated Percy.
"And--I found them," added Madeline.
His countenance fell again.
"They are in my possession," pursued she. "Shall I show them to Miss Arthur, or not?"
"It can't make much difference now," said the man, sullenly.
"Let us understand each other fully," said Madeline. "I am not acting in concert with Cora Arthur. She is even more in my power than you are. I have no desire to undeceive Miss Arthur. Neither do I wish you to leave Oakley. On the contrary, I want you here; you can be of service to me, by and by. And I pledge you my word that so long as you remain under this roof, those papers shall not be used against you."
"And if I don't choose to remain?"
Madeline laughed. "Then you must take the consequences," she said, carelessly.
"And what will they be?"
"Exposure and arrest."
Percy drew pen, ink, and paper toward him. "What shall I write to the clergyman?" he asked, sullenly.
"Whatever you choose. And I will send it. Make your peace with Miss Arthur, too, in your own way."
"And when I leave Oakley, what then?" he grunted.
"Then, if you have fulfilled the conditions, I will burn the papers in your presence, and you are free henceforth."
"There is the note," he said, flinging it toward her as soon as written. "After all, I may as well be in your power as in hers," and again he arose to go from the room.
"I am glad you take so sensible a view of it," retorted she, looking up from her perusal of his note. "Good-night, Mr. Percy."
And thus cavalierly dismissed, Mr. Percy bowed, somewhat less gallantly than when entering, and left the room.
"So, that is nipped in the bud," soliloquized Madeline, as she went wearily to her own room once more. "When will this miserable complication unravel itself, or be unraveled?"
Little did she dream how soon she would receive an answer to this question. _