He Fell In Love With His Wife, Edward Payson Roe [children's books read aloud .TXT] 📗

escape from the country in twenty-four hours. You

needn’t think you can tell this story to Holcroft and that he can protect you

and himself. I’m here under an assumed name and have seen no one who knows

me. I may have to disappear for a time and be disguised when I come again,

but I pledge you my word he’ll never be safe as long as you are under his

roof.”

 

“Then I will sacrifice myself for him,” she said, pallid even to her lips. “I

will go away. But never dream that you can come near me again—you who

deceived and wronged me, and now, far worse, threaten the man I love.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” he replied cynically. “At any rate, you will have left

him.”

 

“Go!” she said imperiously.

 

“I’ll take a kiss first, sweetheart,” he said, advancing with a sardonic

smile.

 

“Jane!” she shrieked. He paused, and she saw evidences of alarm.

 

The girl ran lightly out of the dairy room, where she had been a greedy

listener to all that had been said, and a moment later appeared in the yard

before the house. “Yes’m,” she answered.

 

“Be careful now, sir,” said Alida sternly. “There’s a witness.”

 

“Only a little idiotic-looking girl.”

 

“She’s not idiotic, and if you touch me the compact’s broken.”

 

“Very well, my time will come. Remember, you’ve been warned,” and he pulled

his hat over his eyes and strode away.

 

“Bah!” said Jane with a snicker, “as if I hadn’t seen his ugly mug so I’d know

it ‘mong a thousand.”

 

With a face full of loathing and dread, Alida watched her enemy disappear down

the lane, and then, half fainting, sank on the lounge.

 

“Jane!” she called feebly, but there was no answer.

 

Chapter XXXII. Jane Plays Mouse to the Lion

 

It can well be understood that Jane had no disposition to return to Mrs.

Holcroft and the humdrum duties of the house. There opened before her an

exciting line of action which fully accorded with her nature, and she entered

upon it at once. Her first impulse was to follow the man of whom she had

learned so much. Not only was she spurred to this course by her curiosity,

but also by her instinctive loyalty to Holcroft, and, it must be admitted, by

her own interests. Poor little Jane had been nurtured in a hard school, and

had by this time learned the necessity of looking out for herself. This

truth, united with her shrewd, matter-of-fact mind, led her to do the most

sensible thing under the circumstances. “I know a lot now that he’ll be glad

to know, and if I tell him everything he’ll keep me always. The first thing

he’ll want to know is what’s become of that threatenin’ scamp,” and she

followed Ferguson with the stealth of an Indian.

 

Ferguson was not only a scamp, but, like most of his class, a coward. He had

been bitterly disappointed in his interview with Alida. As far as his selfish

nature permitted, he had a genuine affection for her, and he had thought of

little else besides her evident fondness for him. He was so devoid of moral

principle that he could not comprehend a nature like hers, and had scarcely

believed it possible that she would repulse him so inflexibly. She had always

been so gentle, yielding, and subservient to his wishes that he had thought

that, having been assured of his wife’s death, a little persuasion and perhaps

a few threats would induce her to follow him, for he could not imagine her

becoming attached to such a man as Holcroft had been described to be. Her

uncompromising principle had entered but slightly into his calculations, and

so, under the spur of anger and selfishness, he had easily entered upon a game

of bluff He knew well enough that he had no claim upon Alida, yet it was in

harmony with his false heart to try to make her think so. He had no serious

intention of harming Holcroft—he would be afraid to attempt this—but if he

could so work on Alida’s fears as to induce her to leave her husband, he

believed that the future would be full of possibilities. At any rate, he

would find his revenge in making Alida and Holcroft all the trouble possible.

Even in the excitement of the interview, however, he realized that he was

playing a dangerous game, and when Jane answered so readily to Alida’s call he

was not a little disturbed. Satisfied that he had accomplished all that he

could hope for at present, his purpose now was to get back to town unobserved

and await developments. He therefore walked rapidly down the lane and pursued

the road for a short distance until he came to an old, disused lane, leading

up the hillside into a grove where he had concealed a horse and buggy. Unless

there should be necessity, it was his intention to remain in his hiding place

until after nightfall.

 

Jane had merely to skirt the bushy hillside higher up, in order to keep

Ferguson in view and discover the spot in which he was lurking. Instead of

returning to the house she kept right on, maintaining a sharp eye on the road

beneath to make sure that Holcroft did not pass unobserved. By an extended

detour, she reached the highway and continued toward town in the hope of

meeting the farmer. At last she saw him driving rapidly homeward. He was

consumed with anxiety to be at least near to Alida, even if, as he believed,

he was no longer welcome in her presence. When Jane stepped out into the road

he pulled up his horses and stared at her. She, almost bursting with her

great secrets, put her finger on her lips and nodded portentously.

 

“Well, what is it?” he asked, his heart beating quickly.

 

“I’ve got a lot to tell yer, but don’t want no one to see us.”

 

“About my wife?”

 

The girl nodded.

 

“Good God! Speak then. Is she sick?” and he sprung out and caught her arm

with a grip that hurt her.

 

“Please, sir, I’m doin’ all I kin for yer and—and you hurt me.”

 

Holcroft saw the tears coming to her eyes and he released his hold as he said,

“Forgive me, Jane, I didn’t mean to; but for mercy’s sake, tell your story.”

 

“It’s a long ‘un.”

 

“Well, well, give me the gist of it in a word.”

 

“I guess she’s goin’ to run away.”

 

Holcroft groaned and almost staggered to his horses’ heads, then led them to

the roadside and tied them to a tree. Sitting down, as if too weak to stand,

he buried his face in his hands. He could not bear to have Jane see his

distress. “Tell your story,” he said hoarsely, “quick, for I may have to act

quickly.”

 

“Guess yer will. Did yer know she was married?”

 

“Certainly—to me.”

 

“No, to another man—married by a minister. He’s been there with her.” She

little foresaw the effect of her words, for the farmer bounded to his feet

with an oath and sprang to his horses.

 

“Stop!” cried Jane, tugging at his arm. “If you go rushin’ home now, you’ll

show you’ve got no more sense than mother. You’ll spoil everything. She aint

goin’ to run away with HIM—she said she wouldn’t, though he coaxed and

threatened to kill yer if she didn’t. ‘Fi’s a man I wouldn’t act like a mad

bull. I’d find out how to get ahead of t’other man.”

 

“Well,” said Holcroft, in a voice that frightened the child, “she said she

wouldn’t run away with this scoundrel—of course not—but you say she’s going

to leave. She’ll meet him somewhere—good God! But how should you

understand? Come, let me get home!”

 

“I understand a sight more’n you do, and you go on so that I can’t tell you

anything. If you showed sense, you’d be glad I was lookin’ out for you so I

could tell you everything. What’s the good of goin’ rampaigin’ home when, if

you’d only listen, you could get even with that scoundrel, as yer call ‘im,

and make all right,” and Jane began to cry.

 

“Oh, thunder!” exclaimed the chafing man, “tell me your story at once, or

you’ll drive me mad. You don’t half know what you’re talking about or how

much your words mean—how should you? The thing to do is to get home as soon

as possible.”

 

“You aint no reason to be so mad and glum all the while,” cried Jane, smarting

under a sense of injustice. “Here I’m a-tryin’ to do for you, and you’ll be

sorry ernuff if you don’t stop and listen. And she’s been a-tryin’ to do for

you all along, and she’s been standin’ up for you this afternoon, and is goin’

to run away to save your life.”

 

“Run away to save my life? Are you crazy?”

 

“No, but you be,” cried the girl, excited and exasperated beyond restraint.

“If she IS your wife I’d stand up for her and take care of her, since she

stands up for you so. ‘Stead of that, you go round as glum as a thundercloud

and now want to go ragin’ home to her. Dunno whether she’s your wife or not,

but I DO know she said she loved you and ‘ud die for you, and she wouldn’t do

a thing that man asked but go away to save your life.”

 

Holcroft looked at the girl as if dazed. “Said she LOVED me?” he repeated

slowly.

 

“Of course! You knowed that all ‘long—anybody could see it—an’ you don’t

treat her much better’n you did mother.” Then, with an impatient gesture, she

asked, “Will you sit down and listen?”

 

“No, I won’t!” he cried, springing toward his horses. “I’ll find out if your

words are true.”

 

“Oh, yes!” said Jane contemptuously; “run right to her to find out somethin’

as plain as the nose on her face, and run right by the man that was

threatenin’ her and you too.”

 

Wheeling round, he asked, “Where is he?”

 

“I know, but I won’t say ‘nuther word till you stop goin’ on. ‘Fi’s a man I’d

find out what to do ‘fore I did anythin’.”

 

Jane had little comprehension of the tempest she had raised in Holcroft’s soul

or its causes, and so was in no mood to make allowances for him. By this

time, the first gust of his passion was passing and reason resuming its sway.

He paced up and down in the road a moment or two, and then sat down as he

said, “I don’t half understand what you’ve been talking about and I fear you

don’t. You’ve evidently been listening and watching and have got hold of

something. Now, I’ll be as patient as I can if you’ll tell me the whole story

quickly,” and he turned his flushed, quivering face toward her.

 

“Then I s’pose you’ll scold me for listenin’ and watchin’ that scamp,” said

the girl sullenly.

 

“No, Jane, not in this case. Unless your impressions are all mistaken I may

have to thank you all my life. I’m not one to forget those who are true to

me. Now, begin at the beginning and go right through to the end; then I may

understand better than you can.”

 

Jane did as she was told, and many “says he’s” and “says she’s” followed in

her literal narrative. Holroft again dropped his face into his hands, and

before she was through, tears of joy trickled through his fingers. When she

finished, he arose, turned away, and hastily wiped his eyes,