Kate's Ordeal, Emma Leslie [best historical fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

Maple came out into the shop, and Marion returned to her work of dusting, while the stranger said a few words in an undertone to the old lady.

"What did you say?" she gasped, looking as though she had been shot, "come in here and tell me, for I'm sure this is a mistake."

"No mistake at all ma'am, for I kept my eye on them all the way from the theatre," he said.

He had followed Mrs. Maple into the back parlour, and the old lady had sat down, for she seemed unable to stand after the shock the man's words had caused her.

"Now tell me all about it," she said, "and I will call them in and ask them."

"No need to do that, ma'am; at least not just yet. They were both out until nearly twelve o'clock last night, you admit, and I tell you I watched them home from the —— theatre, where they had spent the evening among a gang of smart young thieves. Three or four of them were taken, but there are several watches and other valuables still missing, and I have a warrant to search for these and arrest your two shop-women."

"What, take them to prison! But I tell you it must be a mistake; the youngest is a young girl only a few months from the country, and the other, her cousin, is a thoroughly respectable young woman, who has been with me nearly a twelvemonth now."

"That may be, ma'am, but still they were there, and with a party of thieves, too. Will you call them in and let me question them?"

"Well, I will call the younger one first. Kate!" said Mrs. Maple, opening the door.

"Yes, ma'am," answered Kate readily.

"Come in and tell me where you went last night," said Mrs. Maple. Kate turned crimson as she looked from the stranger to her mistress. "Now tell the whole truth about it, Kate. I don't believe what this person says—that you were in bad company, but where did you go?"

"To the theatre," faltered Kate.

"You did!" exclaimed her mistress; "and who, did you go with?" she added.

"With—with some friends," said Kate.

"And who were they, pray?" said Mrs. Maple, sternly.

But Kate shook her head. "Most of them I did not know. William Minn took us; he brought us the orders."

The man noted her answers down in a book, and then said, "I must search her boxes."

"Very well," said Mrs. Maple. "Kate, you ought to know that this is a policeman, and he must search your things for some property that was stolen at the theatre last night."

"Mine," gasped Kate; but there was no time to say more, for Mrs. Maple led the way to her room, and she slowly followed behind the detective.

"Which is your box, young woman?" asked the man.

Kate pointed to it, and handed him the key.

"I had that bag with me last night," she said, as he took it out.

The man instantly opened it, and took out some half-eaten buns and cakes. "From your shop, ma'am," he said grimly.

"I gave them to her before she went out," said Mrs. Maple, stiffly, for she did not believe the policeman's story, though Kate had admitted having been to the theatre.

But the next minute she and Kate both felt as if they had been struck, for he drew out two gold watches with the broken links of the chains still attached.

"Where did you get these?" asked the man coolly.

But poor Kate could only shake her head, and stare in blank astonishment at the sight. Mrs. Maple had dropped into a chair, exclaiming, "Oh dear! oh dear! I never could have believed it."

"No, ma'am, I daresay not; of course you have been cruelly deceived in these two young women," said the detective, turning over the contents of Kate's box in search of other stolen property; but there was nothing more to reward his search, and in a few minutes he said, "Now, ma'am, if you'll call the other young woman up I will soon finish."

"Yes, yes, to be sure, Marion must come," said Mrs. Maple; and in a minute or two Marion came in, wondering not a little why she had been called, and what could be the matter.

"You were at the theatre last night, Marion, and this is a policeman come to search for some stolen property," said Mrs. Maple.

Marion saw it would be useless to deny the charge now, and did not attempt it. "I know we were at the theatre last night," she said, "but I have nothing but what is my own;" and she handed her keys at once to the policeman.

"All right, young woman; but whether I find anything or not you must come with me to answer a few questions with the other prisoners when they are brought before the magistrate to-morrow morning."

"The other prisoners!" gasped Marion, now turning as pale as her mistress and Kate.

"Ah, the fine friends you were with last night. One or two of them are well-known gaol birds, and the rest are not much better."

Marion looked at Kate and then at her mistress, as the policeman proceeded to turn out her box.

But Kate had not spoken since she saw the watches taken out of her bag, and sat staring in a sort of dazed stupor at what was going on.

"Kate, why don't you speak and tell them we were not with thieves?" said Marion indignantly.

But Kate shook her head. "I don't know where they came from," she said.

"But you know William Minn is a very respectable young man," said Marion, reproachfully.

But Kate did not seem to hear, and when the policeman told her to put on her bonnet and shawl she did not attempt to move. But she let Marion put them on for her, and then went downstairs with the rest, but said not a word in explanation of how the watches came into her bag.

Marion was crying bitterly now, and vehemently declaring her own and her cousin's innocence, but Kate did not cry or say a word, and the policeman looked at her in some alarm as he went to the door to send a colleague who was in waiting to fetch a cab to remove his prisoners. Crying he was used to, but he did not understand this silence, and knew not what to think of it.

He told Mrs. Maple while he was waiting for the cab where he was going to take the girls, and that Marion's father would be permitted to see them if he came to the prison in the course of the day. They would be examined before the magistrate the next morning with the other prisoners who had been taken at the theatre, and perhaps by that time Kate would confess who had given her the watches. But, alas! before the next morning Kate had to be removed to the prison infirmary, and her mother was sent for by Marion's father, who was so overwhelmed with trouble at what had befallen his daughter and niece that he hardly knew what to do.

Kate was soon seriously ill, for the shock had brought on an attack of brain fever, and during her wild ramblings and half incoherent talk her nurses heard a good deal of how Mrs. Maple had been deceived and robbed by her trusted shop-woman, but no word about the watches found in her possession did Kate ever utter.

By the time Mrs. Haydon reached London the first examination of the prisoners was over, and Kate was so far exculpated from the charge brought against her, for one of the principal thieves voluntarily stated that the girls had nothing to do with the robbery—the watches had been dropped into the open bag without Kate's knowledge, when the alarm was first raised, and this fact was so far borne out by the policeman, who stated how readily Kate had handed him the bag, saying she had it with her at the theatre. Mrs. Maple was also present to give the girls a good character, but this was somewhat modified by the confession of William Minn, who, being pressed by the magistrate, gave a full account of his acquaintance with the girls, and how he and his friends had been supplied with pastry at Mrs. Maple's expense, by the two foolish girls. Marion denied nothing now. Her only anxiety seemed to be to screen Kate as much as she could, and she declared that Kate had been led into doing what she did by her direction.

But it was small comfort to Mrs. Haydon to hear that her daughter had been led to do wrong through the influence of her cousin. The shame and disgrace of her darling daughter having been in prison so bowed her with woe that, added to the bitter pain of not being able to nurse her in her illness, almost laid her on a bed of sickness. Marion was released, and returned home some days before Kate could be removed from the infirmary, and a more unhappy household than that can scarcely be imagined. Marion had, of course, lost her situation and her character too, and was so crushed in spirit that she did not need the reproaches of her brothers and sisters to make her feel the shame of her position more keenly.

Bitter as her aunt had felt against her for leading Kate astray as she had done, she could not but pity the poor girl, and reflect, too, that Kate was, after all, more to blame than Marion, for she had been more carefully taught than her cousin.

At last Kate was able to be removed from the infirmary to her uncle's house, but she felt little joy or hope at the thought of getting better.

"I don't deserve to get better, mother," she whispered, when her mother was trying to coax her to take a little beef-tea. "I know where I have been all this time, and why you could not come to be with me always. Oh, mother, mother!" and Kate covered her face with her hands and sobbed so violently that her mother grew quite alarmed.

"Hush, hush, Kate, you must be quiet, or you will make yourself worse, and if you are not fit to live how can you be fit to die?" said her mother, firmly.

Kate shuddered, but checked her sobs. "Oh, mother, I was so afraid I should, and I'm not—I'm not fit to die. I have been such a wicked girl, mother. I did not steal the watches, but I have done things quite as bad—I've deceived everybody, mother."

"And yourself too," said Mrs. Haydon.

"How could I do that, mother? I knew all the time that I was doing wrong."

"Of course you did, my dear, but you had begun to deceive yourself long before you came to London, and that was when the mischief began. I think I have been to blame, too, perhaps, for I was proud of my truthful, upright girl, and may have let you hear me say more than was good for you to hear and you grew proud and self-righteous as a Pharisee."

"And now, now I am the worst girl living," sobbed Kate. "Oh, mother, I've thought of it all the while I was in prison. I, a Sunday scholar, in prison," she repeated with a shudder. "I have been a shame and disgrace to my class and teacher as well as you, mother, but I've sinned against God worst of all. Oh, mother, will He ever forgive me do you think?"

"Yes, Kate; He will forgive anything you have done or can do, for the sake of His dear Son, and if you are spared—as I hope and trust you may be—you must live a very different life in future. You thought you were strong enough and good enough before and did not need His grace. You never felt that you were a sinner needing the blood of Christ to cleanse and pardon you, but now——"

"Oh, mother, mother, my sins are too great," broke in Kate. "How could the Lord Jesus forgive such a wicked girl as I am?"

"Because He loved you—loved you so much as to die for you, Kate. My dear, you have thought so much of your own goodness that it is hard for you to believe now that God can forgive you without your deserving it; but was it as hard for you to believe that I would forgive you?"

Kate shook her head. "I knew you would forgive though I never could deserve it, because you always loved me so much," she said slowly.

"My dear, God