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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour etre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. rrata o 3elure, 1 A 5. n 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 The Unseen Bridegroom; OR, WEDDED FOR A WEEK. I BT MAY AGNES FLEMING. -♦♦♦- entered aceordtno to A<^ of CongreM, in ihe year 1889, bv DAVIS & El-VKRSON, ■:n tht OffiM (kf the Clerk of the Dietrivl Curl of the United States, in and fo: the KaHe, * District of ftn7WyJta«i«. CHICAGO : M. A. Don Oil uE k Co. THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. CHAPTER I. THE WALRAVEN BALL. A DARK November afternoon — wet, and windy, and wild. The Now York streets were at their worst — sloppy, slippery, iitid sodden; tlio sky lowcriii;? over those murky streets one uniform pall of inky gloom. A bad, desolate, blood-chilling November afternoon. And yet Mrs. Wal raven's ball was to come off to-night, and it was rather hard upon Mrs. Wal raven that the elements should make a dead set at her after this fa.sliion. The ball was to bo one of the most brilliant affairs of the season, and all Fifth Avenue was to bo there in its glory. Fifth Avenue was above caring for anything so common- place as the weather, of course; but still it would have been pleasantcr, and only a handsome thing in the clerk of the weather, considering Mrs. Walraven had not given a ball for twenty years b Tore, to have burnished up the sun, and brushed away the clouds, and shut up that ioy army of winter winds, and turned out as neat an article of weather as it is possible in the nature of November to turn out. Of course, Mrs. Walraven dwelt on New York's statelieat avenue, in a big brown-stone palace that was like a palace in an Eastern story, with its velvet carpets, its arabesques, its liligree work, it's chairs, atil tables, and sofas touched up and inlaid with gold, and cushioned in silks of gorgeous dyes. And in all Fifth Avenue, and in all New York City, there were not half a dozen old women of sixty half so rich, half so arr(.gant, or half so ill-tempered as Mrs. Ferdinand Walraven. On thi^ bad November afternoon, while the lain and sleet lashod the lofty windnsvs, and the shrill winds whistled around the gables, Mrs. Ferdimitid Walraven's only son sat in his chamber, staring out ot the window, and smoking no end of cigars. 6 THE UNSEEN BRIDEOROOM. Fifth Avcmio, in the raw and rii'ny twiliu'iif, i-i not i\w Kprightlicst >s[)i)t on earth, and thoro was very liiliu for Mr. Walruvon to gazo at except the stages rattling up the pave, and some belated newsboys orying their vvaies. rorhaps those satue little ill-clad novvobjys', looking up through ed abruptly, and pitched his cigar out of the window. " I'ou'vo turned over a new leaf, Carl Walraven, and wliat the demon do you mean by going back to the old leaves? You've come homo from foreign parts to your old and doting mother — I thought she would be in her dotage by this time — and you're a respon- sible citizen, and an eminently rich and respectable man. Carl, my boy, forget the past, and behave yourself tor the future; as the copy-books say: ' Be virtuous and you will be ha})py.' " no laughed to himself, a laugh unpleasant to hear, and tak- ing up another cigar, wont on smoking. He had been awjiy twenty years, this Carl Walraven, over the workl, nobody knew where. A reckless, self-willed, head- strong boy, he had broken wild and run away from home at ninetctii, abruptly and without warning. Abruptly ami with- out warning he had returned home, one line morning, twenty years after, and walking vp the palatial step?*, shabby, and grizzled, and wcalher-bratcn, had strode straight to the majestic pr(*euco of the mi;itres8 of the house, with out- ■tretched hand and a cool " How aro you, mother?" And Mrs. A\'al raven knew her son. He had left her a fiery, liandtiome, bright-faced lad, and this man before her was gray and blacK-bearded and weather-beaten and brown. THE rXSEEN TiRIDrnROOV. but she kiU'SV him. Sho Inul risnii with a shrill ciy of jdv, uiul hold optin hor uriiis. " I've como back, you see, uiother." Mr. Carl Kuid, family, " like tlio ])roverbial bad shilling. I've grown tirod knocking about this big world, and now, at nino-and-tUirLy, with an ('ni[)ty ])ur80, a light heart, a spotless conscionce, and a huuii.1 digestion, I'm going to settle down and walk in the way f should go. You arc glad to have your ne'er-do-well back again, I hope, mother?" (ilaill A widowed mother, lonely and old, glad to have an only son back! Mrs. Walravon had tightened those witherc.l arms about hiiri closer and closer, with only that one shrill cry: "Oh, Carl— my son! my son!'' " All right, mother! And now, if there's anything in this house to eat, I'll eat it, because I've been fasting since yester- day, and haven't a stiver between me and eternity. 15y George! this isn't sucli a bad harbor for a shipwrecked mariner to cast anchor in. I've been over the world, mother, from Dan to — What's-hor-nuinc! I've been rich and I'vo been poor; I've been loved and J've been hated; I've had my fling at everything good and bad under the shining sun, and T come home from it all, sub-cribidg to the doctrine: ' There's nothing new and nothing true.' And it don't Kignify; it's empty as egg-.sheilrf, the whole of it." That vv;is tho story of the prodigal son. Mr.-;. AValravcn asked no (juestions- She w"..-> a wise old woman; she took her son and was thankful. It had hapiK'ned late in Oct.>I)er, this sudden arrival, and now, late in November, the fatted calf was killed, and Mrs. Walraven's dear live h'.indred friends bidden to the feast. And they came. They had all heard the story of the widow's heir, so long lost, and now, dark and mysterious as Count Lara, returned to lord it in his ancestral halls. Ho was a very hero of romance — a wealthy hero, too — and all the pretty man -craps on the avenue, baited with lace and roses, silk and jewels, were coming to-night to angle for thisdiizzling prize. T'he long-silent drawing-rooms, shrouded for twenty years in hoUand and darkness, were one blaze of light at last. Flowers bloomed everywhere; musicians, up in a gilded gal- lery, discoursed heavenly music; there was a conservatory where alabaster lamps made a silver mooidight in a modern Carden of Kden; there was a supper-table s])road and waiting, a feast for the go Is and Sybarites; and there was Mrs. Wal- THE UNSEEN BRIDEOROOIC. raTcn, in black velvet ami point luce, upright am] stutcly, iln- spite her sixty years, with a diarnoml Htar of fabulous prioe aolaae on her breast. And there by her h'hW., tall, ami dark, aad dignified, stood her only Hon, the prodigal, tho repontunt, the wealthy Carl Walraven. " Not liandsome," said Miss lUandie Oleander, raiding her glass, " but eminently interesting. He looks like the htrf) of a sensation novel, or a modern melodrama, or one of Lord Byron's poems. Does he ilanc^e, and will he a.sk me, 1 won- der?" Yes, the dusky hero of the night did danoe, and did ask Miss lilanche Oleander. A tall, gray-eyed, im[H'riou8 sort of beauty, ttiis Miss Blanche, t;even-and-tvventy years of age, and frightfully pussee, more youthful belles said. Mr. Walraven danced tho very first dance witli i\li(]s Olean- der, to her infinite but perfectly concealed delight. )U can imagine the Cor8uir, whirling in a rapid redowa wit lora," Miss Oleander afterward said, " you have Mr. Wj»ri,,(;n and mj'self. There were about eighty (Juinares gazing enviously on. ready to poniard me, every one of them, if they dared, and if they were not sucii miserable little fools and cowards. When they cease to smell of bread and butter, Mr. Walraven may possibly deign to look at them." It seemed as if the dashing Blanche had waltzed herself straight into the allections of tho new-found heir, for he de- voted himself to her in the most prononrc manner for the first three hours, and afterward led her in to supper. Miss Blanche sailed along uerene, uplifted, splendidly calm; the little belles in lace, and roses, and pearls, tl uttered and twittered like angry doves; and Mme. Walraven, from tho heights of her hostess-throne, looked aslant at her velvet and diamonds with uneasy old eyes. " The last ot all you should have selec.'ted,'" she said, xvay- laying her son after supper. " A wojnan without a heart, Carl— a modern Minerva. 1 have no wish to interfere with you, my son; 1 shall call the day happy that brings me your wife, but not Blanche Oleander — not that cold-blooded, bold- faced, overgrown grenadier." Madame hissed out the words between a set of spiteful, false teeth, and glared, as women do glare, upon the gray-eyed Blanche. And Carl listened, and laughed sardonically. " A woman without a heart. So much the better, mother; the less heuit the more head; and 1 like your clever, dashing women, who are big and buxom, and able to take care of themselves. Uon'l forget, mother mine, I liaven'fc proposed THE UN8EEN BRIDHQROOM. to the Bpurkling Blanche, nnd I don't think I shall — to-night. Yon wouldn't have mo fall at the feot of tliose niealy-wiiigort moths tlr.ttering uronml us, with heads softer than thoir po:: little hoards— you woiililti't, I hopu?" With wuich Mr. Wiilravon wi'iit strai^'ht back to Miss Oh'andor aiul asked hor to danco tlio la!icers. Miss Okarilor, turning with inolTablo calm from a bevy of rosi!-n»l)ed antl whito-rol)''d yi'Ung ladies, said, ** Yes," as if Mr. Walraveii was no moro than any other man, and stood u]) to take his urm. Jjut there is many a 8li|). Miss Oleander and Mr. Walraveu never danced that particular set, for just then there came s ring at. the door-bell so pi-aling and imperious that it sounded sharply oven through the noisy biill-roorn. " The Marble (iuost, surely," Jilanche said, " and very de- termined to bo heard." ]'>e)'ore the words were well uttered there was a south! of aa altercation in the hull — one of the tall footmen pathetically protesting, and a shrill female voice refusing to listen to those plaintive protests. Then there suddenly fell peace. " After a storm there cometh a calm," Mr. Walraven said. " Miss Oleander, shall we move on? Well, Johnson, what is it?" For Johnson, tho taller of the two tall footmen, stood be- fore them gazing beseechingly at his master. " It's a woman, sir, all wet and dirty, and horrid to look at. She says she will see you, and there she stands, and Wil- son nor mo we can't do nothing with her. If you don't come she says she'll walk up hero and make you come. Them," said Johnson, plaintively, " were her own langui'ge." lilunche Oleander, gazing up at her companion's face, saw it chfuiging to a startled, dusky white. "Some beggar — some troublesome tramj>, I daro say." ]{ut he droi)peti 'ler arm abruptly as he said it. " Excuse mo a moment. Miss Oleander. I had better see her to prevent noise. Kow, then, Johnson." Mr. Johnson led the way down a grand, sweeping staircase, rich in gilding and carving, through a paved and vaulted hall, «nd out into a l<>fty vestibule. There a woman stood, di'ip|>ing wot and wretchedly clad, as miserable-looking a creature as ever walked the bad city streets. Tho Hare of the gas-jets shone full upon her — upou a haggard face lighted up with two blazing eyes, *• /or God's sake! Miriam!" 10 THE UNRRKN llRIDKOROOlf. Carl Walravon etiirtod back, as if struck by tn iron hand. 1'he woman took a stop forward aiul confrontod him. "Yes, Carl Walravon — Jl^irium! You diil wel too come at onco. 1 have something to say to you. 8h»ill 1 say it horo?" Thiit was all Messrs. Johnson and Wilson ever heard, for Mr. Walravon opened the library door and waved her in, fol- lowed, and shut the door again with a sounding slam '* Now, then," he demanded, imperiously, *' what do you want? I thought you wore dead and — " "Don't say that oth' word, Mr. Walravon; it is too for- cible. You only hopad it. I am not dead. It'b a great deal worse with me than that." " What uo you want?" Mr. Walraven repeated, steadily, though his swarth face was dusky gray with race or fear, or both. " What do you come here for to-night? lias the mas- ter you serve helped you bodily, that you follow and llnd me even here? Are you not afraid 1 will throttle you for your pains?" "Not the least." She said it with a composure the best bred nf his mother's guests could not have surpassed, standing bolt upright before him, her dusky eyes of lire burning on his face. " 1 am not afraid of you, Mr. Walraven (that's your name, isn't it? — and a very tine-sounding name it is), but you'r^B afraid of me — afraid to the core of your bitter, black heart. You stand there dressed like a king, and I stand here in rags your kitchen scullions would scorn; but for all that, Carl Walraven — for all that, you're my slave, and you know it!" Her eyes blazed, her hands clinched, her gaunt form seemed to tower and grow tall with the sense of her triumph and her l)Ower. " Have you anything else to say?" inquired Mr. Walraven, sullenly, " before 1 call my servants and have you turned out?" " You dare not," retorted the woman, fiercely — " you dare not, coward! boaster! and you know it! I have a great deal more to say, and I will say it, and you will hear me before we part to-night. I know my power, Mr. Carl V^alraven, and I mean to use it. Do you think 1 need wear these rags? Do you think I need tramp the black, bad streets, night after night, a homeless, houf-cless wretch? No; not if I (;hose, not if I ordered — do you hear? — ordered my aristocratic friend, Mr. Walravon, of Fifth Avenue, to empty his plethoric purse it. I. TIIK UNSKKN IlKIDEfiUOOH. 11 iiiy 'lirty pookot. Ah, yes," with a shrill laugli, " Miriam knows lior power!" " Are >o'i almost don'?" Mr. Walravon ropliwl, calmly. " Ilavo you come Ikmo tor anything but talk? If so, fur whnt?" *' Not your monov — bo sure of that. 1 would starvo— I would (]i<^ fill' (h'ulii of ailrtL' in a kt-nnel — bcfoio I u-oiild oat a montiiful of bread bou^dii with your gold. I oonic 'or jus- tilX'l" ".Tustico" — ho lifted a pair of aullen, inriiiii.ng eyes — *' justice! To whom?" *' To one whom you have injured l)eyond reparation — Mary Dane!' She hissed the name in a KJiarji, aibilant whisper, and the man recoiled as if an adder had Htung him. " What do you mean?" he asked, with dry, parched lips, " Why do \ou come here to torment mo? Mary Dane is dead." " Mary Dane's daughter lives not twenty miles from where we stand. .Justice to the dead is beyond the power of even the wealthy Carl Walra\<*n. .Iustif;e to the living can yet bo rendered, and shall be to the uttermost farthing." "What do you want?" " I want you to find Mary Dane, and bring her here, edu- cate her, dre.ss her, treat as your own child." " Where shall I lind her?" " At K , twenty miles from here." " Who is she? What is she?" " An actress, traveling about with a strolling troupe; an actress since her skxth year — on the stage eleven years to- night. This is her seventeenth birthday, as you know." "Is this all?" *' All at ])re8ent. Are you prepared to obey, or shall I — " " There!" interrupted Mr. Walraven, " that will de. There is no 7ieed of threats, ]\Iiriani — I am very willing to obey you in this. If I had known Mary Dane — wliy the deuce did you give her that name?^ — was on this continent, I would have Imnted her up of my own accord. 1 would, upon my honor!" " Swear by something you possess," the woman said, with a sneer; " honor you never had since I first knew you." "Come, come, iMiriam," said Mr. Walraven, uneasily, " don't bo cantankerous, lict by-goncs be by-gones. I'm sorry for the past— 1 am indeed, and am willing to do well lor 12 THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. the future. Sit down and be sociable, and tell me all about it. ll\jw camo you to let the little one go on the stage first?" Miriam spurned away the protlered chair. *' I spurn it as I would your dead bodv if it lay before me, Carl Waliavon! Hit down with you? Isever, if my life de- pended on it! The child became an actress bec:uise I could keep her no longer — I couldn't keep myself — and because she had the voice ami face of an angel — poor little wretch! The manager of a band of strolling pla5'ers, passing through our village, heard her baby voice singing some baby song, and pounced upon her on the instant. We struck a bargain, and I sold her, Mr. Walraven— yes, sold her." " You wretch! Well?" " Well, I went to see her occasionally afterward, but not often, for the strolling troupe were here, there, and every- where — from pillar to post. But I never lost sight of her, and I saw her grow up a pretty, slender, bright-eyed lass, well dressed, well fed, and hiippy — j)erfectly lia[)py in her wandering life. Her great-grandmother — old Peter Daiie's wife — was a gypsy, Mr. Walraven, and I dare say the wild blood broke out. She liked the life, and became the star of the little band — the queen of the troupe. 1 kept her in view even when she crossed the Atlantic last year, and paid her a visit a week ago to-night." " Humph!" was Carl Walraven's comment. " Well, Mistress Miriam, it might have been worse; no thanks to you, though. And now — what does she know of her own story?" "Nothing." " What?" " Nothing, I tell you. Her name h Mary Dane, and she is seventeen years old on the twenty-fifth of Novombtjr. Her father and mother are dead — poor but honest people, of course — and I am Aunt Miriam, earning a respcL'tablo living by wasliing clothes and scrubbing fioors. That is what she knows. How much of that is U'ue, Mr. Walraven?" " Then she never heard of nie?" "She has never hud that .iiinfortiMie yet; it has been re- served for yourself. You are a rich man, and you will go to K , and you will see her play, and will take a fatiey to her, and adopt h(!r as your daughter. There is the skeleton for you to clothe with fiesh. " " And suppose she refuses?" " She will not refuse. She likes handsome dresses and jewelry as well as any other little fool of seventeen. Yon make her the olTer, and my word for it, it will be accepted." ) ■ THE rN"SEf:X BHITIEOnOOM. 13 *' 1 will go, Miriam. Upon my word 1 feel curious to am the witch. Who is nhv like, Miriam — inauinia or me?" The womtui'n eyoH lld,i?heil fire. " Xnt, like you, you son of Satunl If yhe was 1 would have f"tr:»«i.^l.:i h- r in hor cradlol jjtt nio go, for the air you hrcathe! i!iok(3B rnol ])aro to disobov at your jicrill" " 1 will Ktart for K to-morrow. tShe will be here — my adr)])ted dau-hter — bi'foru the week ends." "Good! And thi.s oM juother of yours, will slie bo kind to the girl? I won't have her treated badly, you undeistaiid." " My mother will do whatev^jr her son wi-dies. She would bo kind to a young gonlla if 1 said so. Don't fear for your niooe — she will be treated well." " ]jet it be so, or beware! A blood-hound on your track would be less deadly than I! I will be here again, and yet again, to sej for myself that you keep your word." She strode to the door, opened it, and stood in the illiimi* natud hall. Johnson just had time to vanish from the key- liolo and no more. Down the stair-way pealed the wild, mel- ancholy music of a German waltz; from the dining-room came the clink and jingle of silver, and china, and glass. The woman's haggard face filled with scorn and bitterness as she gave one fleeting, backward glance. '• 'J'hey say there is a just and avenging Heaven, yet Carl Walraven is master of all this. Wealth, love, and honor for him, and a nameless grave for her; the streets, foul and deadly, for me. The mill of the gods may grind sure, but it grinds fearfully slow — fearfully slow!" I'hey were the last words Oarl Walraven heard her utti r. She opened the hou=o door, gathered her t' .ulbare shawl doaer around her, and fluttered away in the wiid, wet night. > ClIAPTEli II. " CRICKET." The little provincial theater was crowded from pit to dome — long tiers of changing faces and luminous eyes. There was a prevalent odor of stale tobacco, and orange-peel, and bad gas; and there was bustle, and Jioise, and laughter, and a harsh coUeotiou of stringed instruments grinding out the over- hire. 'i'here were stamps and calls for the tawdry curtain to rise, when a gentleman entered, saunterrd u}) to a front seat, took up a bill and began to read it-— a tall, middle-aged, rather dis- 14 THE UXPEEX BRIDEfJKOOM. tinji;iii8lu:d-lookinr!; num. blimk and bnardail, with pieroiug eyes, superliwc elolhes, and a general aiisLorraLic air about him. P'eo|)le })aiisnd to look again at bin) — for be was a stranger there — but nobody ivoognizHil him, and Mr. Carl Wulraveu read his bill undisturbiMl. The play was " Janehon the C'rii^ket," and the bill an- nounced, in very big c'ai)itals, that the part of l-'anchon was to be playtd by that "distinguished and beautiful young English actress, Miss iMollie Dane." Mr. "Walraven saw no more; he sat holding the strip of paper before him, and staring at the one name as if the fat letters fascinated him—" Fanchon, ]\Iiss MoUie Dane," A shrill-voiced bell tinkled, ami Ihj drop-curtain went up, and the household of l''ather Barbeaud was revealed. There was a general settling into seats, hats ilevv oif, the noises ceased, and the play began. A moment or two, and, in rags and tatters, hair streaming, and feet bare, on the stage bounded Fanchon, the Cricket. There was an uproarious greeting. E\idently it was not Miss Dane's first appearance before that audience, and still more evidently she was a prime favorite. Mr. Walraven dropped his bill, poised his lorgnette, and prepared to stare his fill. She was very well worth looking at, this clear-voiced Mollie Dane — through the tatters and unkempt hair lie could see that. The stars in the frosty November sky without were not brighter than her d:i'-i<, bright eyes; no silvery music that the heir of all the A\'alravejis had ever heard was clearer or sweeter than her free, girlish laugh; no golden sunbinst ever more beautiful tliati the waving banner of wikl, yellow hair. Molho J)ane stood before him a beauty born. Kvery nerve in ('arl Walraven's body thrilled as he looki^d at her. How lovely that face! llow sweet that voice, that laugh! How eminently well she acted! He had seen women of whom the world raved play that Tery part; but he had never, no, never seen it better ])lay('d than ho saw it to-night. " She will make the world ring with her name if she ad- lieres to the stagey" Carl Walraven said to himself, enthusi- astically; "and she never will play anything better than she jilays the 'Cricket.* She is l-'anchon herself — saucy, daring, generous, irresistible Fanchon! And she is beautiful as the angels above. " The ])lay went on; Fanchon danced, and sobbed, and sung, THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. 16 J and wopt, and was rnischiovous as a scrutohing kitten, and gentle as a tiittlp-dovo; took all the hearts by storm, and was triiimphandy reuiiiti'd to lier lover at hist. T don't know how iniiny yonng men in tliat audience were left without an atom oi heart, how many would hi.ve given their two cars to be in handsome Landry IJarboaud's boots. The roof nearly rose with the thunders of applause wlien llie curtain fell, and (!arl Walraven got up with tlie rest, his head whirling, his brain dizzy. " (rood Heaven!" he thought, stumbling along the dark, chilly streets to his hotel, " what a perfectly dazzling little witcii she is I Was there ever sucii another s])arkling, bewil- dering little fairy in the world before?" Mr. Walraven spent the night in a fe\er of impatience. Tie was one of those men who, when they set. their hearts on anything, tiiid no peace, no rest, until they obtain it. lie had come hero partly tlirough curiosity, partly because he dare not refuse Miriaiu; iie had seen Mary Dane, and lol at first sight he was dazzled and bewitched. Next morning, at breakfast, Mr. Walraven obtained all the information ho de;-;ired concerning Miss Mollie Dane. Home halt dozen of the actors were stopping at the hotel, and j)roved very willing, under the inlluonce of brandy and water, to give the free-handed stranger Miss Dane's biograj)hy as far as they know it. 8ho was just as charming olT the stage as on; just as pretty, just as saucy, just as captivating. ISho was wild and full of tricks as an unbroken colt; but she was a thoroughly good girl, for all that, lavish of her money to all who needed, and snul)bing lovers incontineiitly, 8he was stopping up the street at another hotel, and she would in all probability be easily accessible al)out noon. Tho seedy, stroUitig players drank their diluted brandy, iSnioked their cigars, and cold Mr. Walraven all this. They ratlier laughed at the New ^'ork millionaire when ho was out of sight. He had fallen in love with pretty, blue-eyed Mollie, no doul)t, and that was a very stale story with the shabby ])layers. Noon came, and, spcckless and respectable to the last de- grco, Mr. Walraven presented himself at tho other hotel, and sent up his card with a waiter to Miss Dane. The waiter ti.^hereil Inui into the hotel parlor, cold and prim ria it is in the nature <»| liotel parlors t(> be. Mr. Walraven eat down and stared vaguely at the papered walls, rather at a loss IS THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. as to what ho should say to this piquant MoIIie, and wonder- ing how he would feel if she laughed at him. " And (?he will laugh," he thought, with a mental groan; " she's the sort of girl that laughs at everything. And she may refuse, too; there is no making sure of a woman; and then what will Miriam say?" He paused with a gasp. There was a quick patter of light feet down the stairs, the last two cleared with a jump, a swish of silken skirts, a little gush of perfume, and then, bright as a flash of light, blue-eyed MoHie stood before him. She held his card in her fingers, and all the yellow hair fell over her plump shoulders, like amber sunshine over snow. " Mr. Carl Walraven?" Miss Dane said, with a smilo and a graceful little bow. Mr. Carl Walraven rose up and returned that pretty court- CBV with a salute still and constrained. '"Yes, Miss Dane." " Pray resume your seat, Mr. Walraven," with an uiry wave of a little white hand. " To what do I owe this visit?" She fluttered into a big black arm-chair as she spoke, folded the little white hands, and glanced across with brightly ex- pectant eyes. " You must think this call, from an utter stranger, rather singular. Miss Dane," Mr. Walraven began, considerably at n loss. Miss Dane laughed. " Oh, dear, no! not at all — the sort of thing I am used to, I assure youl May 1 ask its purport?" *' Miss Dane, you must parilon me," said Mr. Walraven, plunging desperately head first into his mission, " but I saw you play last night, and I have — yes, 1 have taken a violent fancy to you." Miss Mullie Dane never flinched. The wicked sparkle in the dancing eyes grew a trifle wickeder, perhaps, but that was all. '* Yes," she said, composedly; '* go on." '* You take it very coolly," remarked the gentleman, rather taken aback himself. " You don't appear the least sur- prised." " Of course not! I told you I was used to it. Never knew a gentleman of taste to see mo play yet and not take a violent fancy to me. Pray goon." If Miss Dane wislied, in her wickedness, to utterly discon- eert her middle-aged atlminr, she could not have adopted a 1 THE L'KRSEN BRIDEGROOM. 17 f surer plun. For fully live minutes he sat staring in hopeless Bilencft. " Have you anything more to eay?'* queried the dauntless Mollie, pulling out her watrih. " Because, if you have, you will [tlease say it at once. My time is precious, I assure yoa Kelioarsal is at thrt'e, and after rehearsal there are the spangles to sew on my dress, and after that — " " 1 beg your pardon, Miss Dane; I have a great deal more to say, and if you vvdl listen you need never attend rehearsal again, and never sow on spangles any more." " Indeed!" Tlie blue eyes opened very wide in a fixed, unwinking stare. " I like you very much. Miss Dane — so much that I think it is a thousand jiities you should waste your youth, and beauty, and gi'iiius on desert air. 80 — " " i'es," said Miss Dane — " so you have fallen in love with me at first sight. Is that what you are trying to say?" " Xol" responded Mr. Walraven, emphatically. " I am not in the least in love with you, and never mean to be — .a that way." " Oh, in what way, then, Mr. Walraven?" " I am a rich man. Miss Dane, and a lonely man very often, and I should like to have a daughter to cheer my old age — a daughter like you, Mistress Cricket, saucy and bright, and so pretty that it will be a jileasure only to look at her." "And a very complimentary papa you will make. Have you no daughters of your own, Mr. Walraven?" " None, Miss Mollie. 1 have the misfortune to have no wife." And never mean to have?" •^^ Can't say about that. I may one day." "And you are quite sure you will never want mo to fill that Taeant honor?" " Surer than sure, my dear little girl. I want you only for my adopted daughter." " And you nevur saw me before last night?" " Never," said Carl Walraven, unflinchingly. " You are a very ricdi man, you say?" " Very rich — a millionaire— and you shall be my heiress when I die." " 1 am afraid 1 shall be a very lonr^ time out of my inherit- anoo, then. Well, this is a surpi'ise, and you are the oddest gentleman 1 have met for some time. Please let mo catch my 18 THE UNSEEN URIDEGKOOM. breath! You are quite certain you are not ])Iiiyiiig a jiructioal joke at my expense all this timi .V" I im-an precisely " No! upon my word ami honor, no! what I say." " And 8ui)po6ing I say yes — su])posing 1 agree to go with you, for the inn of the thing, what do you mean to do with mo, Mr. Wal raven?" " To treat you as I would a Miss Wal raven of seventeen years old, if there were such a person; to fill your pockets with money, and your wardrobe with fine clothes; to give you a horse to ride, and a piano to [^iay, a carriage to drive in, and a waiting-maid to scold. What more can 1 do? 1 will give you masters to teach you everything under the sun. IJalls, parties, and the opera at will — everything, in short, your heart can desire." The starry eyes sparkled, the rose-tinted cheeks ilushed with delight. " I can not believe it; it is too good to be true. Oh, you oan't mean it, Mr. Walravr/i. No ono ever had their wildest flight of fancy realized in this manner." " You shall if you will become my daughter. If my promise proves false, are you not free to return? There are no ogres nowadays to carry young ladies off to enchanted Palaces and eat them. Come with me to my home in New "ork. If I fail in aught 1 have jjromiaed, why, return here." MoUie brought her two little palms togetlier with an enthu- siastic slap. " I'll do it, Mr. Walraven! I know it's all a dream and an illusion, but still I'll see the dream to the end; that is, if you can make it all right with Mr. Ilarkner, the mamiger. " " I can make it all rightl" exclaimed Mr. Walraven. " Money can do anything under the sun. lie has his price, like other men, and I can pay it. If Mr. Ilarkner and I come to terms, will you be ready to start with mo to-morrow, Mollie?" " Quite ready. But you won't make it right. Ho will never let me go; you will see." " I am not afraid. I will call upon him at once, and after the interview I will let you know the result. lie is in the hoose now, is ho not?" " Down at the bar, very likely. I will wait for you here." Mr. Walraven took his hat and left, delighted with his suc- cess. The manager was at the bur, as Miss Dane had predicted. he I THE UNSEEN I!RIDEGROOM. H» and eyed Mr. Wulriiveii suspiciously from liead to foot whoii ho foiiiid liis husine.ss concerned his star actress. lie was accustomed to gentlemen fallin^r in love with lior, and <|uite willing to t;ike lilLlo bribes I'rom tliem; but lie stared in an}j;ry amazement when he heard what Carl Wal- raven liad to say. *' Carry olT Mollie!" cxchiimod Mr. llarkner, "and ado])t her as your daughterl What do you taivc me for, to believe such a story as that?" Mr. Harkner was pretty far gone, and all the more inclined to be skeptical. Mr. Walraven saw it, and kiiew that appear- ances were dead against him, and s) swallowed his wratli. " It is the truth, upon my honor. A[iss])ano believes me and has consented. Nothing remains but to settle matters with you." " I v/on't settle matters! I won't liear of it! 1 won't })art with mv best aci-resa!" ** Yes you will for u fair price. Come, name the sum; rili)ay it." Mr. llarkner ojjcned his eyes. Mr. walraven opened hia check -book. " Vou do mean it, then?" " Don't 1 look as if 1 meant it? Quick, I say! If you don't look sharj) I will take her without any price!" " She's a priceless treas^urc!" hiccoughed the numager — " worth her weight in gold to me, and so — '' Ho named a sum that made even Carl Walraven wince; but ho was a great ileal too reckless to ilraw back. " It is a most cold-blooded extortion," he said; " but you shall have it. And at your jn-ril you ever interfere with my adopted daughter afterward." J to signed the check and Hung it to the nuinager, turned and went out, and left that individual staring in blank be- wilderment. (iolden-haired Molliu wa^ pacing impatiently up and dowE the parlor when Mr. Walraven walked in again, his face aglow with triumph. "It is all right, Mollio. 1 told you 1 was more than a match for your manager, ^'ou have trotl the boards for the last time. " " Excuse me, ]\Ir. Walraven; I am going to tread the boards again to-night. It is Cricket still. Don't you want to be enchanted once more?" " Just us you pleaue. Once is neither here now there. RJ 90 THE UNSEEN l^RIDKCROOM. ]iut you will bo ro;uly for the ciirht a. ^i. train to-morrour^ Mollie?" " [ have pvomisc'd, Mv. Wiilr;iven, aiul 1 always keep my word. So Mr. iltirktier lias consirittil? Kovv, that is not flattering, is it? What winning: ways you must possess to make all the worl d) but wuit iifc my oiisR for tiie fui'-y pritici', jiud niitrry him wIumi li • < 'iino. (.'ricketl ('rickiitl you'ro tliu lunkiost wituh'a grandiliiii|jlitor Lhut ever tlancud to her own shiulow!" I MR. ClIAPTElt III. WALUAVKNf's WKDOINO. Moi.MK l)AiVK miido htjrsolf vdry much at hotno ut oiioo in till! nj;i;fiiilicc'iit W'uli'uvcn niiinsioii. 'J'lio diiz/,l.» of its {^'lories scarnciv lasted beyoiul the first (hiy, or, if it did, nobody saw it. Why, indeed, slioiild blio bo daz/dedi' !^\\o, who liad been Lady Macbeth, and received the Tluino of (!awdor at her own {^^ates; who had been Juliet, the heiress of a'! the Capiilets; who had seen dukes and nobles snubbed unmercifully every ni^Tjht of her life by virtuous poverty, on tlu; stage. Jiefore the end of the first week MoiJio had boiiome the light of tho hoiiHO, perfectly indispensable to t!ie happiness of its inmates. Miss Dane was lanmhei! into society at a dinner-party given for the express purj)o;i' by " grandmamma. '' Wondrously pretty looked the youthful ilcliiildnk, in silvery silk and misty lii(!e and pearls, her eyes like blue stars, her cheeks like June rosea. In the wintery dusk of tlie sliort December days, Mrs. Wal- raven received lier guests in the library, an imposing room, oak-paneled, crimson-draped, and filled from floor to ceiling with a noble collec^tion of books. (Jreat snow-flakes lluttered against the phite glass, and an icy blast howled up the avenue, but in the glittering dining-room flowers bloomed, and birds sung, and tropical fruits perfumed the air; and radiant under the gas-light, beautiful Miss Dane llaahed the light of her blue eyes, and looked like some lovely little sprite from fairy-land. Miss Blanche Oleamler, darkly majestic in maize silk and jewels, sat at Miss Dane's right hand, and eyed her coldly with jealous dislike. Mollio read her through at the first glance. "She hates mo already," thought Mr. Walraven's ward; ■' and your tall women, with flashing black eyes and blue- black hair, arc; apt to be good haters. Very well, Miss Oleander; it shall be just as you like." A gentleman sat on her other hand — a handsome young art- ist — Mr. Hugh Ingelow, and ho listened with an attentive face, while she held her own with the sarcastic Blanche, and rather got the best of the battle. t, for rki-t! cvi-r THE UNSERN lUil KKfi liOOM. 23 *' Tlio lil.tlt' Itnmitv 'i-\ no iIiimcc," (limi'^Iif, Mr. ]\'.\i/]\ [iii'c- low. " Miri:i l')lmi<'lio hua fouud u foe worthy of ln'i Imi'L iitaol." And doiriiiif: to tlii.4 coiioliision, Mr. Ingolow irnrntilijihlv he^'ari nuikin!,' hiniHclf ji^rcouhlu to hit; fair iiciylibor. .\Jis.4 Ok'UD'lor was n |»et aversion of liis own, and this bond of utiiiyu drew liini and liur sauey little antii!,'onist toj^'etber at oiici". " Katlier a siuir]) set-to, Misti l)ane," the artist remarked, in iiis lazy voice. *' Mm Olearnlc r is a clever woman, but. vjic iri mat(!hed at hist. I wonder why it is? You two ougln io be j;ood friends." Jle ghmeed significantly at Mr. "VValravon, dovoting himsflf to Miss Oleander, and Mollie gave lier white shoulders a little shrng. " If we ought, we never will bo. Coming events cast their shadows before, and I know I bhull detest a guardianess. Who is that brigandish-looking gentleman over there, Mr. Ingclow? lie has been staring at mo steadily for the last ten minutes.'' " Lost in speechless admiration, no doubt. That gentle- man is the celebrated Doctor Oleander, own cousin to the fair Blanche. " The gentleman in question certainly was staring, but his staring was intorru2)ted at this moment by a general uprising and retreat to the drawing-room. Mr. Ingelow, on who;fe arm she leaned, led htjr to the piano at once. " You sing, I know — Mrs. Walraven lias told me. Pray favor lis witii one song before some less gifted performer secures this vacant seat." " What shall it be?" Mollie asked, running her white lingers over the keys. " Whatever you please — whatever you like best. I shall bo sure to like it." j*lollie sung brilliantly, ami sung her best now. There \fas dead silence; no one had expected such a glorious voice as this. Hugh Ingelovv's rapt face showed what he felt as Mollie rose. " Miss Dane ought to go upon the stage; she would make her fortune," said a deep voice at her elbow. She turned sharply round, and. met the dark, sinister eyes and ])ale face of Dr. Oleander. " Miss Dane foigets mc" lie siiid, with a low bow, " among so manv presentations. Will you kindly reintroduce me, Mr. Ingeluw?" Mr. lugelow obeyed with uo very good grace; the sparkling. 2i Tim UNSEEN HltlDEOnOOM. blne-oyeil cuqutUi! luid mado wild work with hia Jirtisl lioart alrfiady. " Mrrf. Walmven do'urt'il ine to brlnjT you to licr for a mo- ment," the suave doctor and, otit'riiiij lii.'i iiruj. " May 1 luivo the honor?" Mr. Inf\vn\ al. otict!. It was tht! niereiit trille grandnKwnina wantt'd, but it ^ei vfd the doctor's turn — iio iuui got tho b^auLy of l])u ovciiing, and he tnoaot to keep iier. Mollio listencil to his endless How of coniplimentary small- talk just as long a^i she chose, ami then glidi d ooollv invay to flirt with a third adorer, tho eminent young lawyer, Mr. Joseph Sardoiiy:^. Mollio hovered between those throo tho livelong evening; now it was the haml,«ome ai-list, now tho polished doctor, now tho witty, satirical lawyer, flirting in tho most nnpardoiuiblo manner. Even Mr. Walraven w^is a little shocked, and undertook, in tho course of the evening, to expostulate. '* Flirtit)g is all very well, Mollie," ho said, " but it really mustn't be carried too fur. People are bi'ginning to make re- marks." " Are they?" said Mollie; " about which of us, pray? for really and truly, guardy, you have been flirting the worst of the two." " Nonsense, Mollie! You mean Miss Oleander, 1 suppose? That is no flirtation." " Indeed! then it is worse—it is serious?" " Yes, if asking iier to marry mo bo serious. And she has said ye?, Mollie." Miss Dane looked at him compassionately. *' You poor, unfortunate guardy! And you are really going to marry IJlanche Oleandir! W'dl, one comfort is, you wiil be ready to blow your brains out six months after; and serve you right, too! Don't let us taltv about it to-night. I am sorry for you, and if you have any sense left you will soon bo sorry for yourself. Here comes Doctor Oleander, and I mean to be as fascinating as I know how, just to drive the other two to the verge of madnes^s. " She danced awav, leaving Mr. Walraveu i)u]Iiiig his mus- tache, a picture of helpltcs perfilexit}'. " I wonder if 1 have put r.iy foot in it?" he (botigbt, as ho looked across tho long room to where IJlanchu stood, the fcrilliant center of a brilliant group. " Sho is very handsome THE UNSEEN liiaDEnnOOM. 25 iiicun by iiayinj;; you retorted her cousin, -ho mciiiiH nmrriiige." and rery clever — 8o clever that I don't for the life of mo know whether 1 niadu lovo to her or hIjo to nic It is too Ittto now for tinythinp but a wedding or heavy damages, and of the two evils I prefer the lir«t. " Mrs. SV'ulravcn's dinner-party broko np very l»to, and Jilanehe Oleander went home with her roiisin. "A i)ert, forward, bold-faced minxl" Mins Oleander bur8t out, the nioiiient they were alone in the carriage. " Ouy, what on earlh did you mean by i)ayiiig her Kuch marked atten- tion all evening?" " What did Carl Walraven mean by payinj; i/ou such marked attention all evening?" " Mr. VVal raven \n no llirt " And 1 am no llirt — 1 mean marriuge also." *' (ruy, are you mad? JMarry that nameless, brazen creat- ure?" " ]'>lanchc, be civil! Most assuredly I will marry her if hIic will marry me." " Then you will rcpnnt it all the days of your life." "Probably. I think 1 hourd Miss Dane making a similar remark to your atlia iced about you." " Tho impertinent little wretch! Let her wait until I am Mr. Wulraven'.s wife!" '* Vague and terrible! ^\'hon is it to be?" " Tho wedding? Next month." " Poor Walraven! U'hcre. liianehe, don't flash up, pray! When you are married you will want to get blue-eyed Mollie oir your hands, so please transfer her to mo, little Hash of lightning that she is! 1 ahvay» did like unbroken colts for the pleasure of taming them." Mrs. Walraven was told of her son's ajiproaching marriage the day after the dinner-jtarty; dit^approved, but said nothing. Mollie disaf)proved, and .-aiil everytliing. " It's of no use talking now, Mollio!" hw guardian ex- claimed, inij/atiently. " I nuist and will marry lilancho. " " And, oh! what a piiiable object, you will be twelve months after! But I'll never de-crt you — never strike my Hag to tho conquoress. ' Tho boy stood on the burning dock.' I'll be a seoond Casi — what you may call him? to you. I'll bo brido- maid now, and your protector from the lovely Blaucho in tho future." She kept her v;ord. In sf)ite of Miss Oleander's dislike, she was first bride-maid when the eventful day arrived. But fairer than the bride, fairest of t!ie rosy bevy of bride* 36 THE UNSEEN imiDEfiROOlf. raaiila, shone hliio-eyed Mollio Dane. A party of Kpeiichlci;;^ tu.'mirers stood bcliinJ, cliief among them llugfi In^clow. 'ilic bridal party were drawn up before the sur2)Hced clergy- man, and " Who givtth this woman?" had boon asked find iuiswered, and the service was proceeding in due order win n llicrr was a sudden commotion at (ho door. Sumo one rushed impetuously in, and a voice that rang tiirouT;h the lofty edifice shouted: " 8topI I forbid the marriagel" Carl Walravon whirled round agliast. The bride shrieked; the bride-maids echoed the bride in every note of the gauiiit — all pave Molliej and she, like the bridegroom, had recognized the intruder. For, tall and gaunt as one of Macbeth's witches, there stood the woman Miriam ! CILVPTER IV. MOLLIK'8 ( onquest. There was a blank pause; every eyo fixed on the towering form of the spocter-liko woman. *' I forbid the marriagel" exclaimed Miriam. "Clergy- man, on your peril you uidte those twol" "The woman is mad!" cried CarMVal raven, white with rage. " Men, turn her out!" *' Stop!" said Mollie — *' stop one moment. I know this woman, and will see what she means." No one interfered; every one gazed in breathless interest as Miss Dane quitted her ])ost and confronted the haggard a]ipa- rition. The woman uttered a cry at sight of her, and caught her impetuously by the arm. " Mad girl! have you forgotten what I told you? Would you marry that man?" " Mi. r-ry what man? What de you mean? I am not going to marry any man to-day. It is you who have gone nuul, I think." '* Why, then, do you wear those brid;il robes?" *' Jkiile-maid robes, if you please, (iracious me, i\[iriiiui, you didn't think 1 was going to marry Mr. Walraven, did V" you Miriam ])!i£sed her l;and over her brow with a bewildered air. " Whom, then, is it, if not you?" " Miss Blanche Ol'under, of course, h.j any one could h«vo THE UNSEEK liRIDEGROOM. 27 iUllj 111 II 'aii'^ ? told you, if you had taken tlio troublo to ask before rushing in here and making a scene, " " I only hoard last night he was to bo married," Miriam said, with a bewiklercd face, " and took it for granted that it must be you." "Then you must have had a poorer opinion of my taste than 1 should have thought it i)o.s?ible for you to have. Come in and beg everybody's })ardon, and tell them it was all a shocking mistake." " One word lirst: Are you well and happy?" " Perfectly well, and happy as a (pieen. Come on; thcro is no time to lose. I'eople are staring dreadfully, and the bride is glaring with rage. Quick — cornel" She llittod back to her place, and Miriam, stopping forward, addressed the assenibly: " 1 ask your pardon, ladies and gentlemen. I have made a mistake. I thought the bride was Miss Dane. I beg the ceremony will proceed." She pulled a veil she wore down over her gaunt face, and with the last word hurried out and disappeared. ]\Ir. Wal- raven, suppressing his rage, turned to the minister. " Proceedl" he said, imjiatiently, '* and make haste." The bride, vory white with ang(!r and mortiiication, resumed her place; tlio ceremony recommeni'ed. This time there was no interruption, and in ten minutes the twain wore one ilesh. Half an hoar lat'>r they were back at the Walraven mansion to cat the wedding-breakfast, and then the new-made Mrs. Walraven, with an eye that Hashed and a voice that rang, turned upon her liege lord and denu'.nded an explanation. -Mr. Walraven shrugged hi.s .shoulders doprecatiuglv. " My dearest Blanche, 1 have none to give. The wonuin iiiu.-;t l»e mad. Speak to MoUie. " '' C.'a.l Walraven, do not dare to deceive me on my wedding- lay. You know more of this than you choose to say." '* Mrs. Walraven, do not raise ycuir angel voice to such a pit(;h for nothing. 1 said before, speak to Mollie. 1 say again, s])eak to Mollie; and here she is." " So she is," said Miss J )an(!, sauntering in. " Do you want me to allay a post-nuptial storm already? Auspicious beginning! What is it?" " Who was that woman?" dematnicd the bride. " A very old friend of nunc, madauie. " Why did she come to the church and try to stoji the mar- nagi .V" *' Because she thought 1 waa the biidu. She said so, didn't fn THE UNST5EN BKIPIGROOM. she? And being very well acquainted with me, she was moved with compassion for the dehided man and came to warn him in time 1 explained her little mit^take, as jou saw, and she apologized handsomely, and — exit, Miriam. Isn't that satis- factory?" " Are you speaking tlie truth?" Miss Dane hi'.d her hand upon lier heart, and bowed pro- foundly. " Doesn't Mr. Walraven know her?" *' That is a question I can not take it upon myself to an- swer. Mr. Walraven is of age. Let him speak for himself," " 1 told you before," said the bridegroom, angrily. " Let us have no more about it, Blanche, or I may chance to lose my temper." He turned on his heel and walked off whistling, and Uie bride, in her snowy robes and laces, went down to breakfast, trying vaitdy to clear her stormy brow. MoUie puckered up her rosy lips into a shrill whistle. " And this is their wedding-day! I told him how it would be, but of course nobody over minds what I say. I'oor trnardy! what ever would become of him traveling alone with that woma?i! How thankful he ought to be that he has me to go along and take care of liim!" For MoUie had made it an express stipulation, contrary to all precedent, that she was to accompany the happy ])air on their bridal tour. Miss Oleander's ante-nuptial objfctioiis had been faint; Mrs. Walraven, less scrupulous, turned upon her husband at the eleventh hour, just previous to starting, and insisted that she should be left at home. " It will be ridiculous in the extreme," exclaimed the bride " liaving your ward travel-iiig with us! Let her remain at home with your mother." Mr. Walraven looked his bride Steadfastly in the eye for a moment, then sat down deliberately. " Look here, Mrs. Walraven," said ]\Ir. Walraven, perfect- ly cool, " you have made a little mistnko, I fancy. Permit me to rectify it. Wearing the lireeches is a vulgar exi)ression, I am aware, and only admissible in low circles; still, it so forcibly expresses what 1 am trying to express, that yon will all')W me to use it. You are trying to don the incxpies?ibles, Blanche, but it won't do. My ward goes with us on our bridal tour, or there shall be Jio bridal tour at all. There! you have it in plain English, Mrs. Carl Walraven!" Five minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Walraven descended to the carriage, Mrs, Walraven with her veil drawn down, and mak- THE INSEKN BRIDEGROOM. 29 ing her adieus in u smolbercHi vm-t of voice. Mr. Walraveu hnuded in his wurd next, then followed; tlie coachnitin flour- ished his whip !ind Lliey were fjone. The happv pair were nieroly going to \Va!nt, Miss Dane, as a sincere friend, may 1 ask an answer?" " Well, then, as a friend, 1 can't f^ay for certain, but I am afraid — I am v^ry much afraid I would ;-ay — " " Miss Dane, permit mel" evclaimed a voice at her elbow — " Sir Iioger Trajenna, Miss Dane." Mij-s ]>ane turned calmly rtund to hrr hostess and tJtc guest of the (jvening, aTid graciou.sly received the venerable baroni t's ]>ri)found bow. At the same instant the music of a wAiv. Btruck up, to the jealous artist's inlinite rtliof. " Xow, then, Miss Dane, it you are ready," said Mr. Inge- low, rather imjieriously. "Excuse me, Mr. Ingelow," replied Miss Dane, with in- finite calm; "I am reiiliy t(.o much fatigued for this waltz. Sir Iioger, some one is singing yonder. I should like to hear him." And under Mr. Tngdow'd angry eyes, she took the enrapt- ured old baronet's arm and walked away. "The hoary dotard I" muttiied the artist, glaring and grinding his teeth; "the sixly-five-ycafclil imbrcilcl It is the first time I ever heard her decline a waltz under the plea of fatigue. She's a hiiirtUss coquette, that Mollio Dane, and 1 am a fool to waste a :-econd thought iijinn her." Mir.s Dane danced no more that evening, and Sir IJoger never left her side. She talked to him until his oM eyes };parkled; she smiled upon him until his brain swam with de- light. Atid that was l)ut the beginning. The torments Mr. Hugh Ingelow sulfercd for tiic ensuing two weeks words are too weak to describe. To cap the climax, Dr. Oleander suddenly ap- :J2 THE UNSEEN UTIIDEGROOM. peiired ii|ion the scene and glowered under bent biack brows at cofjiiottish Mollie. " The idea of being civil to anything so comnionplace as a mere doctor," Miss Dane said to her gtianlian, when taken to task for the airs she assjunied, " wlien Welsh baronets arc ready to go down on their knees and worship tlie ground I walk on! If he doesn't lilvo the wa.y he is treated, he knows the way back to New York. I never sent lor him to come here." Sir Roger's devotion was inexpressible. No wonder Mollie was dazzled. The city was on the f/ni rive. 'J'he ])i(|uant little New York beauty, whom the men adored and the women abused, had caught the golden prize. Would lie really ask her to become Lady Tiajejina, or would (he glamour wear off and leave the saucy little ilirt stranded high juid dry? The last night of Mr. Waliaven's stay in Vv'at=hington settled that question. They were at a grand reception, Mrs. Wal- raven magniilceut in moirr and diamonds, and ]\Iollie iloating about in a cloud of misty pink, and fijiariding pearls, and amber tresses. There, of course, was Sir liogcr, and there (also, of course) were Dr. Oleander and Hugh Ingelow in a state of frantic jealousy. It had come, long ere this, to be a settled thing that the Welsh baronet should never Kave her side, except while she was dancing. So that when, a little before supper, they strolled out on the piazza, it was nothing surprising or re- markable. The winter night was windless and mild. Sir Koger's asthmatic and rheumaiic aflliotions were quite safe in the warm atmosphere. Moonlight flooded everything with its misty glory, stars spangled the sky, music came softened by distance fiom the ball-room — all was conducive to love and to love-making. Sir Koger Trajenna, inspired by the music, the moonlight, and the charming little beauty beside him, t'- 3 and then laid name, heart, and fortune at Miss Dane's i..ir feet. There was a pause. Even Mollie felt a little iluttered, now that the time had come. '* 1 know the disparity of years is great," the baronet said, quite trembling in hiseagerness; "but my whole existence will bo devoted to yon; every pleasure wealth can purchase shall be ynurs; every wish that I can anticipate shall bo anticipated. You will be my darling, my idol. I love yot passionately. Say not, then, 1 am too old."' *' I don't," said Mollie — " I don't mind your age iu tho i THE UNSEEN KRIDEQROOM, 33 least. T rather dislike young men; I've liad such a surfoJt of them." " Then 1 may hope?" breathlessly. " Oh, yes, Sir lJ<»gor, you may hope. J am not in iove with anyboily else that [ know of." " And you will be my wife?" " Ah, that's another thing! I don't seem to care about being married, somehow. ^'ou must give me time, .Sir liogor. Come, let us go in to supper. 1 will tell you bv and by." " Aa you please, my beautiful Mollie. Only don't keep me waiting too long, and let your answer be ' yes ' when it comes. " Miss Dane partook of supper with a very good appetite, ac- cepted j\Ir. Iiigelow for a wait.-'; and J)r. Oleander for a qua- drille, smiled sweetly and graciously upon both, and took .Sir Kogor's arm, at the close of the ball, for the carriage. " Well, Miss Dane — Mollie!" the baronet said, eagerly, " have you decided? What is it to be — yes or no?" And Mollie looked up in his face with those starry, azure eyes, and that bewildering smile, and answered sweetly: "Yes!" CHAP'JVKIi V. MOI.LIE's JHSCniEF. Mips Dane returned to New York " engaged," and with the fact known to none save herself and the enrapture.rkling with miochief. " '^Fwo women in one house, two oat.s over one mouse, never agree," quoth I\Io]lie. " iiisteners never hear any good of themaelves, but, oh! tlie opportiuiity was irresistible. 80 Doetor Ouy Oleander is going to propose, and Mollie Dane is to Kiiy ' yes ' on the impidso of the moment, and Mamma ])lanehe is to make her stick to her word I And it's all to ha|ipen alter th;^ ])i)lka quadrille! Very well; I'm ready. If Doclor Oleander and his cousin don't find their match, my name's not MoHiel" Miss Dane consulted her jeweled tablets, and discovered that the i»oIka ([uadriile was the very next in order. Shaking out her rosy skirts, she lluttercd away, mercilessly bent on manskiughter. Every one nuide way f jr the daughter of the house, and in a moment she was beside J)r. Ol! go into the conservatory," said J)r. Oltander, de- lightedly, (jidte un('f>nscious that his fair enshivcr was jtlaying into his hand. " We aro sure to find aolituue and coolneBB there." The conservatory was delight fully cool, after the African tempera! nro of the ball-room. Alabaster lanijts idied a palo sort of niooidight over the sleeping llowers, and plai--hing fountains, and marble goddesses. Aliss Dane suid< diiun undur a latge orangi>t;ee and began faninng her.^elf langniiily. " How nioc — this half light, these jierfumrd roses, those tinkling water- falls, music, and s-olitudel Do I look like Love among the Koscs, JJoetor Oli ander?" " Yes; like Love, like Venus, like everything that is bright, and beaiitii'id, and irre.si^■tiblt•, Miss Dane!" " Monsieur overwhelms mel AVhy, good gracious, sirl What do yon mean?" Fur ])r. Oleander had actually caught her in his arms and was pouring forth a jtasaionate declaration of love, " Goodness mel .IJeleasc me instantly! How dare you, sir? Have you taken leave of your yenses, Doctor Oh aniiei?' " I am mad for love of you, beautiful Mollic! I adore yeu v/ith my whole in art!" " Do you, indeed?" said !Mol]ie, looking angrily at her rnftled plumage. " !See my dret;s — not fit to be seen! Fm curpi-ised at you, Doctor Oleander!" "Mollie, I love you!" " I don't care — that's no reason wby y<,u should spoil my lovely dress, and make me a perfect fright. You had no business going on in that outrageous nninncr, sir!" " But, Mullie! (iood heavens! will you listen to me? Never mind your dress." " >,'evcr mind my dress?" critMl Miss Dane, shrilly. " Due- tor Oleander, you'ro a iir-ifcct bear, and Fve a good mind n(;ver to speak to you again as long as 1 live! Let us go back t" the ball-room. If 1 had known yon were going to act so, I'd have seen you couijiderably incouvenienceti before I came with you here." 38 TIIK rXSEEK IlRIDF.r.KOOM. " Kut iiti'il yon nnswor mc, Mollio. " " AnawiT yon? Answer you wiiul? You haven't uskcd mo ;my quostiori." " 1 told you 1 lovcil you." " Well,'"' tiKtiiy, " you don't cull that a riuestion?" " Mollio, will you lovo me?" " No — of onurso noti Oh, what a torment you are! Do lot us go hiiclvl" ">>\;vt'il" oxcliiimcd ])r. Oleander, gathering hoj)e — "never, ]\lnllie, uniil you auswer mol'' llo oaught hoth her hands and hold them fast, Mollio struggling in vain. " Oh, dear, dear, what will I i-ay? And tliore — if there isn't isonie one coming inl Ltt me go, for jtity's take, and I'll answer you — tn-morrow. " " To-night, Mollie— to-night!" " I won't — thcrel" wrenching her hands free and springing up. " Come to-morrow, between twelve and one, and you bliall have your answer." She darted away, and alnioirit into the arms of Mr. Hugh lngel-.»w. 'i'iuit gei tleman looked su^-ipieiously from her to Dr. Oleander, emerging from tho shadow of tiie orange-tree. " Am I ih' fro/', Miss Dane? I thought to lind tiie conserv- atory desei'ted." " And so it will be, in a minute," said IMollio, familiarly taking \m ann. " They are goin^- to supper out yonder, and I am ulmost famiiihed. Take me drwn." " And, if I can, J will make you follow f)il at tliu last:" " li'ather stron*,' lan,i:iiii','e, Mr. lnf,'olo\v," said Mollic, coolly •milium,' to piece-! a rost;. " 1 liave not led you on, liavn J? I lavo been friendly with you because I Jiked you — as I have jeen with a dozen others." " Then I am to (ionsider myself rejected, Miss Dane?" lie stood up before her, very wiiite, with eyes of unspeak- able re])roa(:h. ■' Wliat a hurry you are in!" said Mollie, pettishl*. " (iivo me until to-morrow. I will thiidc it over. J>etween twelve and one I will be at home; come then aiul you shall have your answer. 'J'herel let us (fo hack to the liall-room. I have j)romi3od this redowa to Mr. Sardonyx." Mr. Ingelow, in ])rofound silence, led Miss Oane back to the ball-room, where they founil the elegant lawyer searching for his partner. " I thought you had forgotten me, Miss Dane," he said, taking ln'r (jIT at once. " lmj)0s.sihle, Mr. Sardonyx," lauglied Jlollio. " So norry to liave kept you waiting; but better late than never." That u may tell him to-ni irn»'.v'. Jjet juc see: at noon Mr. Walraveii will be at home and alone. Come at noon." The pavty ws over — a brilliant succes3. Mrs. Wairave'i had been admired, and Miss Dane had scan- dalizotl the best metropolitan soeiety svort^e than ever. " And, oh I" thontriit that wicked witch, aa she laid her curly head on Hio pillow in the gray darvn, " won't there be fun by and by?" Mrs. WiUraven descended to breakfast at lialf p;iyt ten, and announced her intention of spending tho romainder of the morning s!iop[)ing. Miiilie, in a charming dcnii-toilet, and looking as fresh aH though, she ha'l not danced incessantly the whole night before, lieanl the announeenu'nt with secret satisfaction. " Are you trying, too, Mollie?" asked Iier guardian. " "No," .'■aid Moliie; ''I'm going to st;ty at home and en- tertain Sir iioger 'rrajenna. lie is coming to luncheon." "Seems to mo, ("ricket," said Mr. Waliaven, "Sir Iioger Trajonna hang'^ after you like your shadow. What doi s it mean.-* ' " It moans — making your charming ward Lady Ti'ajenna, if he can, of cniu-se. " " I'.iit he's as old as the hills, MoUie." " 'JMien rii be a fasciiuiling young widow all tiie sooner." " .Di^^gusting!'■ (xe'laimed Mrs. (Jarl W'ahaven. " ^'ou arc perfectly heail!ess, Mollie Danel" She 8we()t from the room to dress for her shopping expe- dition. It was almost twelve when .'^lie was fairly olT, and then Mollie summoned her maid and gave her sundry direc- tions with a very serious face. " J am going to speiul the m'>rning in the blue room, ]\Iar- garet," yhe said; "and I expect four gentlemen to call — Sir Uoger Triijcnna Mr. Ingelow, Dootor Oleander, and Mr Sar- ilonyx, " THE UNSEEN liRIDEGROOM. 41 " Yes, miss," said Marjrarot. *' Sir Kogcr you will snow at once into the bine room," pursued the young lady; "Mr. Fiigciow into the library: J)octor Oleander into tlie drawing-room and Mr. Sardonyx into the brealected mark of preference. If it is evor in my power to return your condescension, Miss Mollie, believe mo you will find my memory good. 1 wisli you all good-morning." iiis immovable face had not changed, but his gray eyes flashed one bright, fierce glance at Mollie, that said, plainly as words, " I will have revenge for this insult as sure as my name is Guy Oleander'.'' Put saucy Mollie only answered that sinister look by her brightest glance and smile; and taking his hat. Dr. Oleander strode away. Then Mr. Sardonyx arose. Ho had been sitting like a statue, but the words and departure of his fellow-victim seemed to restore consciousness. " Am 1 to understand. Miss Dane, that tlii-s is the answer you meani when you invited me hero to-day?" he stendy asked. " Did 1 really invite you? Oh., yes! Of course, Mr. Sar- donyx, it mu«t have Ijiiu. 1 purposely kojit njy engagement secret since my return from W'asliington in order to give you an agreeable surprise." " I am extx'cdingly obiigod to you. IJelievc me, I will prt)''^? my gratitude if ever opportunity oilers," THE UNSET5N imiDEfiROOM. 43 Miss Dane bowed and smiled. ISir Itogcr looked hopelessly bewildered. Mr. Sardonyx took his hat. " Farewell, Miss Dune, and many thanks." He was gone. Hugh Ingolow ulono remained — Hngh Inge- low, white and cold .as a dead man. J.loilie'.s heart smote her cnioUy for the second time at sight oi' him. He arose as the lawycn' disappeared. "■ You have nothing more to say to me, Miss Dane?" MoUie lifted her eyebrows. " My dear Mr. Ingclow, what should I possibly have to say to you, except that wo will always be most happy to seo you — Sir Koger and 1?" " Always," echoed the baronet, with a stately bend. "You are very kind. (Jood-day, Sir Koger Trajenna. Congratulations on so eminently suitable a match would be I)repostcrous. Farewell, Miss Dane. I, tco, know how to re- member!" With the words he passed out. Sir Koger turned with something like a frown to his bride-elect. " What does it mean, Mollie?" Mollie laughed — such a gay, girlish laugh! "Can't you see, Sir Iioger? They are nearly frantic with jealousy, the three of tluTii. What fim it was to see them sitting tlicro and scowling at one another!" " Hut they threatened, did they not?" the baronet asked, t;Li'- frowning. ' i)id they? They said they would remember, and I think '. li ^ "y likely tlioy will. I'oor fellows! Jt was natural, and 1 «'& i'fc mind." "■' Aud when am I to speak to your guardian now?" " As soon as you please — after luncheon, if you like. I don't suppose ho'll object," " Certui' Iv not," Sir Koger said, proudly; " and then, my dearest, when am I to have my lovely liltle wife?" " Oh, 1 don't know! It isn't well to bo in any hurry. Wait a year or two." " A year or two!" cried Sir Koger, in much the same ton« as if she had said a (X'ntiiry or two. " Impossible — utterly ini|)? baronet formally rcfjucsted the pleasure of a piivale iriter\ ieiv. " Can he really be goinj:; to a^k for Mollii'?" thought Mr. Walravvn. '* Upon juy word, if lie 1;^, this is quite a new rul" for me — playing the |.iirt of venerable 2)arent, and that to t; white-haired g.ntb'Uian who numbers a round score more years than myself." He led the way to his study, followed bv (ho baronet. And Sir IJoger eame to tho point al once, calmly, j)roudly, with grave dignity. " The di-parity of years is great, I know," he said. " lUit if she is willing to oveiloe.k that objecti(.n, you surely nmy. There is no other dratvback that I am awaie of. A ^rrajtMma, of Trajf-nna, might mate with tht; highest in England. " lie lifted his white, erect head haughtily, and looked Carl Walraven full in the fuee. Jlr. Wiilravcn held out his hand ami grasped the b;ironet's cordially. " My d^ar Sir I'n'ger, I am j)roud and hiippy beyond ex- j)re3sion. Mollie may < onsi ler herself a fortimate girl to es- cape the wild young scapegraces who dangle after her, and find a hus'eand in a man like you. She stands alone in the world, poor child, without father or mother. You, ISir lioger, must be all the world to her now." " Ibaven iKlttinc me. I will!" tlic old man said, earnestly. " My whole life .-hull be devoted io lier liiippiness. " "And when is it to be?" Mr. \Vidr;i\i'ii asked, with a Fmil *. '* I pn -iiime you and Mollis hiive settled thai;"* " In two moii'liS. It will be spiioe then; ar.d we can start at once f'r Waleo. 1 long to show my laiiy iaide old Tin- jenna Caut, in npite of all, the engagement waa an accomplished fact. Every day, beneath the baleful glare of angry female eyes, Mollie bane went riding and driving anl walking with tho stately, white-haired old nullior.aire, who bent over her as obsequiously jis though she were a duchess born. The women might go wild with envy, the men go mad with jealousy; bnt the davs and the weeks went on, and the fairy grew more radiantly beautiful with each. And the wedding- day came, and the guests were bidden, and all was ready, on a scale of unparalleled miigndicenco. And who was to know the wedding would never hv? Mollie's bririal night! '^I'he big brown-stone mansion wa,-i one blaze of light. The ceremony Wiis to take place in the lofty arty dispersed in wild confusion, but the search went on. Through the night it lasted; but morning broke, and still no trace. 'J'he bride had disappeared as if the earth hail opened and swallowed her up! onAPTKR vn. wrii:i,!: iiiiv nniitH wam. TnE letter in the bull envelope which had so startled Rroliio was very l)rief. There were but ei^ht er nine lines, wrctch» edly scrawled: 48 THE UNSEEN BKIDEGKOOM. " iMoLi.iK I'ANF. — Come to nio at once, i' yoii v/ant to (Inil nut wlio yon .ire, wlio your parents were, what I'iul Wiilravcn is to you. Tiiin is your vvediling-night; but come. J am very ill — (lying; 1 niiiy not see morning. If you di'luy, it will be too late. Tlie btM:L'r is my friend; she will conduot you to me. Tell no one. Carl Walraven will prevent you, if ho can. I say to you, come— come — come. "Mjuiam." If there was one tiling on eartli that flighty Moliio was really in earnest about, it was in knowing her own history, lltr marriage sunk into insignitieanoe in compaiiaon. tShii dispat' bed Lucy at cnce for the bearer of the note, sent her friends to tlio rigliL-abnut, and clustded herself with tho young woman — a pale young woman, wiih darl; eyes and an intelligent face. *' \Cho are you?" abruptly demanded the bride, looking curiously at her. "Sarah Grant," answered the young woman — "a sho])- girl." " Who sent you with this note?" " A woman who lodges in the f-amo liousc — a I all, gauut, half-crazcl lnoking crealure. (She is dangerously ill." Tho girl ansuered straighiforwaidly, gazing round her tho while in o[)en-eyed admiration. "■ Do vou know her name?" " We call her old Miriam: she refuses to tell her name. 1 have done lil;tle things for her since she has been ill, and eho begged me so hard to fetch you this letter that 1 could not re- fuse." " Do you know its contents?" " Only that you are expected to return with mc. She told mt! that she iiaJ sometliujg to say to you that you would give half your life to hear." *' is the house fur from this?" "Yes, mi.NS, a long way; but 1 came iji a carriage. It is waiting lound the corner. Miriam told me to hurry; that it was a matter of life or death, and she gave me money to pay for tho hack. It was absolutely necessary you lihould know, ehe said, before you ma'Tied any one." Mollie miisbd a momr-'it. She never thought of doubting rU tliici. Of courtsf'., Miriam knew all about her, and of courao it was likely she would wish to tell her on her death-bed. " T will go," she .said., suddenly. " W.iit ouo inslanU" She summouud the burvuut, gave her the mcsBagc that had THE UNSEEN BRIDEOROOM. 49 caused such consternation, locki'd the door, ami thraw over her glittoring bridal robes a long vvattT-t)roof cloak thut cov- ered her fiom head to foot. Drawing the iiood over her head, .she stood ready. •' Now," said Mina Dane, ra[)i(lly, " we will not p^o ont by the front door, because I don't want any one to know I have quitted the liouse. Come this way." She opened one of the long windows and stepped out on the j)ia/.'/a. Sarah followed. Some distance on there was a llight of stairs leading to a paved back-yard, 'i'hey descended the stairs, walked down the yard, passed through a little gate, and stood in the street, under the bright ni^jht sky. " Now, Miss Grant," said Mollie, ■ii car- ,'j" wuere is your riage;" " At the corner of tlie avenue, miss. This way." Two minutes brought them to the corner. There stood the hack. Sarah made a motion for Miss Dane to prccodo her. Mollio stepped in; tlu; giid followed, clo.Mng the door securely after her, and the hack started at a furious pace. " IIow dark it is!" exclaimed Mollie, impiitieutly. "You sliould make your driver light up, MiLis (Irant." " There is sullicient light for our work." a voice awswered. Mollie recoiled with a slight shriek, for it was not the voice of Sarah Cirant. A dark ligure started out of the corner on the moment, her hands were grasped, and a handkerchief swifily and surely bound round her mouth. It was no longer in her j)ower to raise an alarm. " Now bind her eyes, Sarah, " said the voice. " I'll secure her hands. My pretty bird, it's of no use struggling. You're wifely and surely snared." ller eyes were baiulagcd, her hands bound, and Mollie ortt utterly helpless and bcwddered— a prisoner. She could neither see, nor move, nor speak. The hack was rattling at a fearftd i)ace over the stony streets. Its noise would have drowned her cries had it been in her power to utter any. " Now, my dear Miss Dane," said that unknown voice, very close to her ear, and all at once, in French, " I'll answer all the (piestions I know you are dying to ask at this moment, and answer them truthfully. 1 hju ak in French, that the good Sarah beside us may not comiiiehend. Vou understand the language, I know." 50 THE UNSEKK lilMDEGllOOM. lie knew her, then! And yot she utterly 'ailed to recoj^nizo lh»t voice. " Jn tlie first ])lacp, wluil does all this mean? Wiiy this decei)tion — this al)(iiu:tioii? Who am I? Where are you be- hini strain- ing your liiii^s scriaming; for if you bln'iel\ed for a month, no onn would hear you tiirough "those padded walls. Mow, th.'n:-' lie took the gag from her mouth, and Mollio eau/xht her breath with a gas]). llu untied tlu! bandage round her I'ves, anii for a sucond or two s-he was daxzleil In tin- .iidden blazo of light. 1 ho instant she could see, she turned lull upon hor ab'luctor. Alas and ala'; ho wore a bluek mask, a llowing wig, a \)eard, and a long cloak reachiiig to the lluor. lie wad a tall man— that was tlu! only thing Mcdlie could make out of the di^iguisu. "Miss Daiuidoes m)t spare me; but it is all in vain. Slio mi\y ga:',() until htM- l(»vely eyes dri')) from their sockets, and i Ik; will not recogril/ce me. Ami liow 1 will li'avti you. 1 will intrude upon you as litthf as is al'solutely jiossible. jfyou need a?iyLliing. ring the bell. (Jood-night, my beautiful Mollic, and ha]»]>y dream.;." Jle bowed polilelv and moved toward tho door. Mollie mail' a ste[) towartl him, with upraised arm: ".Stay!" The man halted at once. " How long am 1 to be imprisoned here?" " My fair one, I toLl you before: until you consent to be- come my wife." "Are you mad?" exclaimed Mollie, scornfully; "or do you think I am? Your wife! J am here in your power — kill me, if you dare, you cowardly abiluctoil 1 will die ten thou- sand deaths— I'll live on here until my heail is hoary — I'll dash my brains out against yonder wall, but I'll never, never, never become your wife!" Tiie man shrugged his shoulders. " Strong language, my dear; but words, words, wordsl 1 won't kill you, and you won't live here until your head is lioary. Cioiden loiiks like yours are a long time turning gray. And you won't dash your brains out against the walls, beeauso the walls are padded. Is tliore auvihing else vou wisli to sav, Miss Dane?" " Only this," with blazing eyes, " that whoever you are, 09 THE UNSEF.N KRIOEGROOM. you aro the vile:^t, bisost, iiiosb cowunlly wretch on tho wide earth! (lo! I wouNi inunler you if I was iihlol" " Not i\ floubt ol' it, luy iiii^'t'll Oiico uiorc, good-niyhtl" IIu bovvbil low, piis-Jiici out, iuul locked tho door. Alollio was aloiH' in Iut pri.soii. Now, littli! ('ri(;ket, fairy th:it slio wua, was yet bravo as any giantess. Not a dnp of craven blood llowed in her .s[)iriied veins. Tiierel'ons left alone, she neither wept, nor raved, nor tore her hair; but took a prolon;;ed survey of lier siuround- iuos. It was a hirgo, lofty room, lighted by a sinj^lo gas-jet, de- pemkiut from tlie i;eiling. The four walla were tbiokly waJiled, and tliero were no winilows, only one dcor, no i)iet- iires, no mirror — notbin;^ but a few stutTetl eliuirs, a table, a lavatory, a bed. J)ay-tlnie and nij^ht-timo would be tho same here. " Well," said Mollie to herself, drawing a long breath, " if tills does not cap the t,'lobv'I Am I really Mollie Dane, and is this New York Citv, or am 1 ])laying private theatricals, and gone back to tlu; Dark Ages? Who, in the wide world, is that mysterious man? And, oh 1 what will they say at home this dreadful nighl?'* .She removed her cunibersomo mantle and threw it upon the bed, looking ruefully about her. " I wonder how long I am to be kept hens? Of course, I'll never yielil; but it's going to be frightful, if I am to be im- prisoned for weeks and weeks. I won't ring for Uiiit deoei'ful Sarali Grant, and I'll never give in, if they keep me until tho day of ju.lgment." tShe bewail p:u:ing up and down the room. Death-like still- ness reijrned. Hours pa.^'Sed. Weary with tho long drive, she threw herself upon the bed at last, and fell fast asleep. A noise near auoke her after a prolonged slumber. She looked up; the gas still burned, but she was no longer alone. iSarah stood b'/ the table, arranging a temi»ting brcalifast. " What's that?" ab' " " ►Sarah court.'siod respectfidly. " Your breakfast, nuss. " " It is to-morrow, then?" said Mollie. " It is to-day, miss," responded the girl, with a smile. "What's the hour?" " Past eight. Miss Dane." " Aro you gning to stay here with me?" " No, miss." uptly demanded Mollie. ti ti. THi: IKSKKN BnTDF.GUOOM. 03 " Wliy ili 1 voii toll mo fiK^h lies last ni;:;lit, you bliiunoful girl?" " I to!iI von what I wuu ordered to tell you.'* " Bv whonir' '* Mv niiiBtir." " Who it- your miiater? OIJ Siitati?" " I ho[«( not. mi-*-!. " " Who, thru? Whiit iri his nnmo:" " Exoiiso ni(*. Mi.-M Diiiu'," uiiid tiio girl, quietly. " I. rnuat an.-'wor no (ineritioo:;. " " ^'ou ivi' H hiird-hpiirtod creature, and yen on^'h'; to hu i!s!i!»meil of yourrfvlf!" exclaitncd Mollie, iudij^nautly. *' \\ here is v'jur muster? ifcrc?" " Mi~8 Dane, ] repeat il. — 1 can answer no rin.- ions, atul I must po. Hero is vour breakfast. I hopes you will enjov it." "Yes," said Mollie, scornfnUy, " it is vo.-v l.ki'ly I'dmll enjoy eatinj,' and drinkiii;^' iii this plarel 'I'ake it away. 1 don't want victual • — I mean to starve mvsclf to death." l)Ut elie lo'/kcd at the table as t*he f-p )ke, and w;m inwjirdlv not at all dispk-asi'd tos(0 the gr.KliMi coii'ce, the buckwheat cakes, the cLrtrs, and ham, and toast. " r s!)a!l hrini,^ you your dinner at noon, mis.s." said Saridi, moviu},' toward tln^ dimr, and not heediii'^ her. " If you want me before noon, please to riii'.'. " *' Slop!" said Mullie. " And, oli, for goodness gracious sake, do tell mo whoro I ami" She held uj) her ba;ids imploringly — poor, cagcl little star- ling! " I am sorry, miss," Sarah said, and her fane showed it; " hut indeed — indeed J can't I I daren't! I've promised, and my master trusts me. 1 can't break my word." Sho was gone as she spoke, lurking the door "gain, and ^rollie got up with a lu'avy sigh. 8ho luid takeu olT only her outer garments befoio Iving down; and alter washing, and combing out her bright sillren hair, she resumed the glittering, bride-like liiu'ry of the evening before. I'oor M'.lliu looked at the bilver-shining silk, the cobweb lace, the gleaming, milky pearls, with a very rueful face. " And 1 was to have been awav on my bridal tour by this time," sliH thought; " and pour Sir Koger is half mad bcforo this, J kno»r. Oh, dear! it'o very nit:c to read al)Out young ladies being carried off in this way, but the reading is much nicer than the icality. J shall dlo if they keep me hero four- aud-twenty hours longer." liy way of prcpariug for dcalli, Miss Vaao promptly sal 51 TSf unseen jsridegkoom. down [,i> the table and eat hor breakfast with Iho hearty ap- petite of youth Jiiul good health. " It'tJ better than Itoinii; i'ed on breail and water, anyhow/^ she rctloeted, as she thiirflicd; " but J sliould ;j;really prefer the bread and water, il' sweetened with freedom. Wliat on earth shall I do with myself? If they had only left me a bookl" Ihit they hadn't, and the low^, dull hours wore on — how lo)ig ;uid how dull ojily prisoners know. ]5ut noon eann; at last, and with it eanie Sarah, carrying a sroond tray. J\Io!lie was on till! watch foi the door to open. 8he had some vague idea of making a rush for it, but there stood a stalwart man on guard. " Hero is your dinner, Miss Dane. J hope you liked your breakfast." I'ut the sight of the sentinel without had n)ade Mollie .sulky, and t;lie tuniod her liack uj)on Ih" girl with silent eontemj't. Sarah departed, and ^lollio sidltred her dumer to stand and grow cold. She was too (iross to eat, but by and by sho awoke to the fact that she was hungry. " And then it will help to pai's the time," thought the un- hapjiv prisoner, sitting doivn. " ]f I could cat all the time, I shoulilirt so mueh mind." After dinner she coiled lierself up in one of the arm-ehaii"^ and fell fisleep. .She slept long, and av»'oke refreshed, but what thiv, it was shu could imt juilge; eternal gas-light and sileruje reigned in her prison. " Oh, dear, dearl wliat will become of me if this sort of thing gois on?" cried Mollie, rdoud, staroiiig up and wringing her han.lri. " I shall go stark, starinir m;!(l! Oh, what crime did my father and mother ever (;om:uit, that their sin should be viriited upon me like this? I wii! stab myself with the carving-knife to-morrow, after dinner, if thi;::. keeps on!" Mollie paced up and down like a bcdianute, sobbing and scolding to herself, and quito broken diwn with one day's iiu- prisonment. "1 thought 1 could sttiid it — I thought 1 could defy him; I had no idea bring imprisoned was so awful. I wish J could die and lui'.ke an end of it! I'd starve mys(df to death, only 1 get so dr(.'adfid hungry, and I daren't cut my throat, because the sight of biood makes me siek, and I know it must hurt. Oh, Mollie l)ane, you nuserable little wretch! 1 wish you had never been born!" Another dieary interval, and then for tho third time CHiut 8urah bearing a tray. riTE "i NSKEN" I5UIDEGU00>r. 55 " Your siipi)(jr. miss." 6i liil SiUiil), E^riiiig thi'Oiigli tho I'or- iiiij'ffrs. miilii. " ] li'tjie you likni] \Tiur (liiiofr." "Oil, f:iki> it awiiyl" ciic'ii MulJic, Iwi.sting Ikm' " 1 I'iDir't \>'iint any su|ii)er — I'm go'A\ here to ins'ult mo like that, don't ciitiu' here at all." Sarah eourte.-ied respectfidly, and immediately left, lliit lier words had made their mark. In s])ite of ^Mollie's appeal- ing dignity, any avenue of eseapc — eveti th;it — was begiiuiliig to look inviting. " Suppose 1 went thro\igh the form of a cen^mony with this man?'' museil MoUii-. " It woiddn't mean ■ nylhinL'. y;iii know, because 1 did it npon compulsion; and, immediaftiv J got out, 1 should go straight and murry Sm IJoger. lUit I won't do it — of couise, 1 won't! I'll be imju'isoned furever before I yield!" Uiit you know it has got to be a ])rovcrb, " ^Vhen a woman hesitates, she is lost." Mollie had begun to hesiiat^o, and Mollie was lost. All that long niplit she never slept a wink. She lay awake, tossing and tumbling on the bed, or pacing up and down the lloor. in i\ sort of delirious fever. And — " If 1 thought for certain sure lui would let me go after the sham ceiennniy was performed, I would marry him," was the .conclusion she had arrived at by morning. " l\'o nuUter v.hai happens, nothing can be half so bjul us this." -J 6 THE VK-EEN T!RII)T:GR00M. It Wiv; inoining, tbough MoIIie did not know it, when she threw herself on ihv; bed, and for thu second time fell asleep. And sleipiDg", the urnani^'d. Siie tvas ttiindini; up before the niiaiatcr, to be mariied Lo Ihe masked man. The ceremony went on — ^Jirium was bride-maid and Sir lioger Trajenna g'we her awav*. The certmony ended, the briili oro.'in turned to saliiLii the biide. " Ihit ilcA 1 mual icni'ive my mask," ho j-aid, in a gtrangely familiar voice; and lii'iing it oil", MoUio saw bmilinLT down upoti her the nu)ft bvantiful Ta! e ever mor- tal wore, lamiiiar a^ the voice, yet leaving; lur equally unable to place it. It may seem a little thing, but little tiling*? weigh with young ladies in Ihiir scventeenih year, and this dream turned "the, scale. MoUie thought about it a great deal that morning as t^he made lier toilet. " J wonder if lie is f-'o very handsome? [ like lnu;dsorae men," mused Mollie. " He told me ho was, and I know ho must be, if he ever wa.i a ilirtee of mine. Mr. Sardonyx is the plainerft man I ever let nuike love to me, and even he was not ab.--:oIutclv plain. 1 ehouhln't wonder i;" my eai)L«)r \\:'n) Jie, or else Doctor Oleander. Oh, wliy — why — why (-m't I recognise that voice?" That day wore on, long, drearily, endleHsly, it seemed to poor Mollie. Jt.s dull course was l)roken, as usual, by Sarah fetching the daily nu als; and it ended, and night; came, and f-'*:ll MoUie had not .spoken. Another day dawned, and its dawning brought the dimax. She had passed a t^h-efdi'ss night, and awoke feverish, unre- freshed, and utterly desperate. " If it was death instead of marriage 1 had to undergo," said Mollie to herself, " I s-houid prefer it to this slow tt)tture. It's horrid to yield, but it's a great deal moic liorr.d lo hold out. I'll yield." Accordingly, when Sarah came up with the morning meal, Mk^s Oano promptly addressed her: " Sarah, is your nuister in the house?" " Not at p/esent, miss." ])o you expect him y>> Oil, yes, missl ife comes evtiry day.' " Is he coming up here no more until 1 send for him?" '* f think not, n)is-. Jle is a great deal too polite to force '-imsi If upon a lady." A glance of withering scam f.oni Mollie. " lie is a cowardly, eontem^Aiblu tyrant, and you are a vilo, THE UXSEEi^ BRIDEGROOM. 5: lost creature and tool I But that is not what 1 wanted to say. As soon as he comes, tell liini I widli to see him." " Very well, miss." Sarah (lt'|):uLe.l. The long hours d ragged on — oh, so long! — oh, so long! MolUe could take no breakfast that morning. She could ordy walk up and down lier jjiison-chamber in a frenzy of imj^'Uienee for the coming of the man tiie liated. He came at last — cloaked and masked, and wearing the false hair and beard — utterly unrecognizable. " At last. Miss Dane," be calmly said, " you have sent for me. You are tired of your prison? You long for freedom? You accede to mv term-.?" " Yes," 8;iid Mr)llie, with a sort of s' bbing cry, for the felt utterly broken down. " Anything, anytinng under heaven for freedom! Another week like tlii^'. and 1 should gonuull Jiut, oh! if you are a man — if you have ajiy pity in your heart — don't ask this sanrilieu! Lei me go as I a;u! tS'e, 1 j)lead to you! — ], wh,) never pleaded to nmrliil before! Let mr go, for pity's sake, now, as I came! JJon't, don't, don't ask me to marry you!" She held up her claJiud luinds— bright tears staiiding in her passionate eyes. ]5ut the tall, nuisked riia' ' dued up like u dark, stern ghost. " You were merciless to me, MoIIie Dane.'' " But I am only a girl — only a silly, ilirting girl t-f - .teeui Oh, forget and forgive, and lut me go!" " I can not, MoIIie, for — I love you!" " Love me?" Alnllie repeated, seorn and anguish in her voioo. " Love me, and torture me like thi.s!" " It is because I love you. I torture you because you slndl bo my wife. Mine, M )llie, miiui! ]}ecau-e yoti would mner consi'ut of your own fieo will. It goes to my heart to hear you plead; but I love you with my whole heart and soul, and I can not yield." " I shall pU-ad no more," Piiaid Mollie, proudly, turning away; '* your heart is of stone." " Will you consent to marry nu'. Mf-Ilie? liemcm!)or the terms. One week fi(uu the hour that makes you my wife will see ynu going forth fice, if you v/ish it." " Free! wish it!" bho repeated, with unutterable [•cnrn. "Free, and bound to you! W'i.di it, when for that pri^ilcgo 1 saerilice mvself forever! Oh. you know well 1 love my lib- (!rty deatly, when 1 ran not lie Ihtc and rot sooner than have my prison your wifu! But, nui:i— demon — whatever you are," she cried, with a sort of fren/.y, '* I do coimeiit — 1 will become 58 THK UKSKEX r.RTDF.GROOM. your wife, siiKO mv only chance of quitting this horrible duD' gL>oii lif s that uiiy!" If Mollie could have seen the faeo behind tho mask, sho wouil have seep, the ml glow of ti'iuiii[ih that ovensinvad ;t at tho woriis; but aioiid ho spoke calinl}'. " My happiness is comjilete," he feuid. " I'ul rcmc/uber, Mi")]]ie, it v.-jll b'i no :;haui marriage, thai you v. ill hv at liberty to break. A ri?ai clergyman shall unito us, and you must promise me to make no aj)peal to his sympathy — to make n.^ attempt to converse with him. The attempt would be quite useless, but you nir.st promise." " I promise," she said, haughtily; " and Mollio Dane keeps her word. " " And I keep mine! A week from tho ceremony you go fortli free, never to be disturbed by me again. I love you, and I marry you for love and for revenge. It sounds ineon- sistent, but it is true. Yet, my promise of vengeance ful- filled, I shall retain you against your v.ill no longer. 1 will lov ■ j'ou always, and you will be my wife— my wife, Mollie. Nothing can ever alter that. 1 can alwaj's tay hereafter, come what will. I have been blessed I" There was a tremor in the steady voice, lie paused an in- stant, and then went on: *' T the hiatus so eloipiently or so convincingly. The cold perspiration started from every pore, and each tooth in his clerical jaws clattered like pairs of castanets. They drove, and they drove, and they drove through the wild, wet night, as if they meant to drive forever. iiut they sto[)ped, after a horribly lung .nterval, and tlie parson was helped out into the rain, out of the laiu into a house, Jed up a llight of stairs, and seated in a chair. 62 THE UNSEEN BKIDEOROOM. " Now, my deiir sir, ])2iinit mo to remove these uncomfort- able iii(nimbriin('(}S, anil do. do try (o ovorlfok llie jituiirid m^neasity \vhit;h compvllml iiiu to iisn tluiii. Jt goe.s to my heart, I a>'suro you. 'J'ln rel" '^riio liisL hi'.iuhige dioppcd to the {.(rnutid— eyoR, hinidi?, mouth wore free, lint 'Mi: llivAiWi'^h could imike no ufc ol' ills freedom; he ?tit pale, benumbed, eonlounded, h'-lijleas. " ]iouse yourself, my (uar sir," wild his per^^iuuilor, j^iving liim ii f^entle shake; " doTi't Look u{) ami s])eak to me.'' The reverend i:i;entl.inan did drop p into a ('alale])lic tranee. the I'l^'iy lo(,'k blaonses nnido. In five minutes the two maskm wero man and wife. " Make o!it a eertilleate of mari'iage," saifl the bridegroom; " these two peo[i!o will l»e witnesses. Their niunes are .Sarah Grant and -lohn Jones." VtiWi, ink and papci- wero placed before him. Mr. Piash- leigli cssa\'ed to write, as well as his trembling lingers would allow liim, au'l handed a smeared and blotted document to the bridegioom. " You will eider this marriage on your register, Mr. IJash- h'igh," sai.i the man. ''1 am very much obliged to you. i'rav acee])t this for your trouble." Th's was a glistening roul nui o" gold. Mr. Rashleigh liked gohl, and in sjiite of his trepidation, managed to put it in his pocket. " Xow. niv dear," \\v) hap])y man J^aid, turning to the littlo wliite briiie, " you and Sariili had better retire. Our reverend friend will wish to return home. I must see him there." 'J'lio biidc and her attendant left the room without ii word. The biidegroom produced the bandages again. " I regret the necessity, but 1 must bind you iigain. How- ever, it will not Ijo for long; in a couple of hours you will be at home. " Willi wonderful !-kill and rapidity, hands, eyes, and mouth were bound onee more; the j)a'.son was led down-stairs, out into the wet night, and back to his seat in the carriage. T'he Tuasked man took his ])Ia"e beside liim. dohn doues mounted to the driver's perch, and they were oil' like the wind. 'I'he })romi3ed two hours were very long to the rector, but thwy ended at last. The carriage sloppetl abruptly; he was helped out, and tlio baiulage takt'n fr(/m his eyes and hands. " The other must remain for a moment or twc^," said the 64 THE UlsSEEW BRIDEGROOM. mysterious man w'vh tlit> mask, Kpfukinfr rapidly. " Yon aro at the comer of your owu street.. Cioud-bvc, and nmiiy thiinks!" He spr!ing into tlio oarri;i/i;fl. and it was gone lik^' xi flash. And tlie KeveriMid J?aym 'iid Kaslileigh, in tlio gray aud dis- mal dawn of a wet morning, was left all agape in the deauited street. fllAPTEK IX. O N K W K K K A F T E K . On" that evontfnl ni^iht of wind a!id rain upon vhieh the IJiiverend liayinoiivl ]i:i.siiic'igli pcrforniL'.! that my.-UL'rioii.s mid- Tiight mariiago, Mr. Carl Walravfn pttct'd alone his stately library, lost in thon^jht — painful thought; for his dark brows were (3on traded, ami tlic; (.'reeian lua'l.s in thtf braiUfore. A gaunt and haggard woman, clad in rags, soaking with rain — a wretched object as ever the sun shone on. " Is Carl Walraven within?" demanded this gri.-iv appa- rition, striding in and confrontinsr the tottering footmau with blazing black eyes. " Tell liim Miriam is here." The footman recoiled further with another feeble yelp, and Blanche Walravi ii haughtily and angrilv faced the intruder. " Who are you?" The blazing eyes burning in h( How sockets turned upon the glittering, perfumed vision. " Who am I? What would 3'ou give to know? Who are you? Carl Walraven's wife, 1 sup{)(x-ie. His wife! Ha! ha!" she laughed — a weird, blood-curdling laugh. " 1 wish 66 TJIK UMSi'KN li:.:i>K(Ji;OO.M. you joy of your luisL'nul, most mugnitioent mudaniol ToJl um. fi'llow," tuniin^f willi riii.ldt'n fi' K.'ciiea.s uiion thodismiiyod uudiTsLaippLT, *■■ is your nKi*ltfr at Ji'imo?" '* Y-e-e-sI Tliiit is, J think bo, nui'am. " " do »nd (ell him t'l ( uuie ]kvv, Ihcu. (Jo, or fll — " 'Vh" drciidl'id object uiiido oiin sirido toward the luf!y uervi- ttir, who turned iirul l!od toiViird iho libniry. Ijiit Mr. \\'ahiiven h;vl hi urd hjud and anp^ry voicos, and at this moment tlio door o[)L'ncd and ho a})iit'ared on the tli.ciii)- jld. *' What id thiii?"' lie (h'liumdcd, angrily, *• What (he deuoo do you mean, U ilnon, by wrui.iriini;!; In the hiJl? ISut gone yet, Hianelie? (lood ir^'avcn! j\Jiri;iMi!" " Yerf, MiriamI" Shu t^trodo rKircoly forward. ''Yes, Miriam! Come to deuumd revon;.;."'. Where is .McIIie |).ine? You promised to ])roteet her, and I'ee how you keei) ytuir word!" " In the demon's name, liushl" (jricd Car] Widraveii, sav- agely. " What you have to say to uie, say to me — j'ot to iln) wliole house. Come in hero, you lia:;" of .Satan, and blow out as mueh aa you plea^el (Jood Lord! Wasn't I in trouble enough b(;fi;re, without you eoniinj^' to drive me mad!-"' lie caught her by one Uoshless arm in a Kort of frenzy of desperation, and swung her int') t!ie library. 'I'h?n lie turiu'd to his audience of two with IliHliing oyen: " W'il.son, bo gone! or I'll break every bone in your body! Mrs. Walraven, be good enough to take yourself otT at once. 1 don't want eavesdroppens." And having thud paid his ek'gant lady-wife back in her own coin, Mr. Walraven stalked into the library like a sulky lion, bunged the door and locked it. Mrs. Carl etood a moment in petrilied siknco in the liaii, then sailed in ma^stie displeasure out of the house, into the Wiilting carriage, and v/as whirled awav to the Academy. *' Turn and turn about. Mr. Carl Walraven." she said, be- tween set, white teeth. " ]\Iy turn next ! I'll ferret out your guilty secrets before long, as sure as my name is Ijhinche!" Mr. W'alraven faced Miriam in the librarv with folded urme and tiery eyes, goaded to recklessness, a panther at bay. " Well, vou she-devil, what do you want?" "Mary Dane." " Find her, then!" said Carl Walraven, fiercely. " 1 know nothing about her." The woman looked at him long and keenly. The cliange iii him evidently puzzled her. Tin: I'NSrEN T.RTDF.fillOOH. C7 You ■m^; ti new -onji lutc'lv," ^h^f ■■•aiil. wiili (li:lil»('!ution. Do you WitiiL UK! to think you iin; out oi' isiy ])()V.cr?'' " 'I'liink what you j)|i.'ii:-:o, an'l hii lia'iLicd io youl" liowlod Mr. Wiilraveu. '' I um di'ivcti to tiie vcrj^'o of niiiilu'JHS among youl Moilio J-);itn; ami hcv <.li-:ijt|t!'!ii'.uii;ts niv wife and her cursfcd tiiunta, you ami your infernal tiiicat.sl !)•> your wortt, tho whole of you! I defy the wiiole loti" ".'^(ifily, softly," Huid MiiiaJii. ooolino; dnvrn i'h he hci»ted np. " 1 want iui c'.\i)IiujuUon. "Vou h;ivo lost I»T)llioI llov/ v/firt she io-4?" ■' YcA — how? You've asked tho (lueslion, and 1 wii-li you would auswor il. I'vo heen d living,' niy.self wdd ov<;r it for the past few days, but I don'c Kuem to ^u't to the solution. Can't your l-'aiuiliar." pointing downward, " iielp you guess the erngnia, Miriam?" ^liriaiu frowned darkly. " J)o you loaliy intend to nay you have not made away with the gill yourself?" " Kow what does the woman mean by that? Wliat the deuco. should I make aw.iv with her for? 1 liked iMullie — u])on my soul 1 diil, Miiianil I liked her better ihan any one in tliis house — the little, gaucy, miseiiievouH witchi She was on the eve of iniirryin^ a baronet, and going to her castle in !S])ain — I mean in Waiej — ^vhen, lol she vanishes like a gimst in a child's tale. I've scoured the city uftor her — I've paid detei;tives fabulou.-! amounts. I'vebcn worried, and harassed, and goaded, anil mystiiied until I'm half iiuid, and here you come with your infernal ni)nsense about ' making away ' with her. That means mu-dering lier, I suj>no«e. I always took you to be moiJ oi- le>s nnvd, Mi.iam Dane, but 1 never before took you to be a foul." The woman looked at him keenly — he was evidently telling the truth. Yet still bhe doubted. " Who but you, Carl Wulravcn, had any interest in her, one way or tho other? What enemies could a girl of sixteen hnve?" "Ah! what, indeed? If a girl of sixteen will flirt with every eligible nuin -he meets until she renders him idiotic, she must expect to [lay tlie penalty. V>v.i, f don't pretend to understand this allair; it is wrapjied in bluokcr mystery than the Man in the Iron Mask. All I've got to say is — I had no hand in it; so no more of your black loi ks. Mistress Miriam." "And all I've got to say, Mr. Walruven," said Miriam, steadfastly lixing her eyes upon him, " is that if Mollie Dane is not found beioro the month a out, J w V your story es TH! VNSKKN IMIIDKiiliOOM. to the world. Wlitit will Madame Walraveii, what will Mrs. Carl, what will the <;liief niotropolitaii circle's say tliuii?" " You hag of Hadics! Aiu't you alraid 1 will strangle yoii where you stand?" " Not the least,/' folding her shawl deliberately around her, and moving; towaid the door: " not m the >sii^^hl.est de- gree. Coud-ni; 'it, Carl Walravou — I have said it^ imd I alwavs keep my word." "keep it, ."'id—" But Miriar.i did not hear that last forcible adjuration, f^'he was out of ^lie library, and out of the houtie, ere it v.aij well littered — lost in the wet, black ni.cht. Left alone, Carl Walravcn reMinied his niar( h up and slown the apartment, with a gloomier J'acL' and more 'luwjiing brovvi- than ever. It was bad enough before, without this t'ger-cat of a Miriam coming to make things tvn times worse. It was all braviidc, his detiance of her, and ho kuiMV it. lie was com])kL(.ly in her power, to ruin for life if she chose to speak. " And bhe will choose!" growled Caid \\ ab-avrn, in a r.ngi% " the accursed old hagi if Moliie Dane dot :sn't turn up before the month ends. By the Lord llarryl I'll twist (hat wizen gullet of hers the next time she shows licr nglv hhnk face here! Confound Mollie Dane and all belnnging lo her! I've never known a day's rest since I met tbem iir>ith! and handed it hack. " I see it is [)o;Umai ked in the city. If the writer really knows aught oE MolJi", she li-ust be nearer at hand than wo imaL'ine. W'oidtl to Heaven thi. v^c'^k were nj). " " Then you have faith in this?" >:aid the baronet, looking e.stonished. " I have hope, my dear sir. It Ik very ca:\y believing in what we wish to come true. There may be somoLhing iu it. Who knows?" The baronet shook his head. '* I wish I couhl thitik so. 1 sometimes fear we will never see her again. Pooi- vUWM Poor little .Moiiie! Heavon only knows what yon ruav not Icivo sutforcd ere this!" " Let lis not di>!}'air. Prav, resume y()ur seat. 1 am quite alone this stormy night, Sir Kogor. Mrs. Walrnven has gone to the opiTH. " But the baronet moved I'csolutclv to the door. 70 THE UNSEEX RRIDFCtROOM. " Thank-^. rTr. Wal.'ii^'on: but I ii;n !'/, eomnr'Tiv f.ir no one. I luiVG been utterly iniserablo Kince thct l'it»il iiigiit. 1 can lind rcct no".vh-rr>. I will not inllict. ni\ \\\;*n.sunie Bociety upon you, uiv f.i^'iid. (iootl-niglitl" Tlie wc'j'ic {) !■;•:. (1. As Sir l^)2;pr snid, the inouIriLS and re- wards wcro d ,!ib!td — trebltd; l)iit all in vain. JNo (race — not the faintest s-hadow of tnwc — of the lost; ouo couki be fi^uud. The mystery di opened and darkened every d;!y. Tlie week e.\j)ir('d. On its last night; there met at tl)e Wal- ravcn maiifion a few fn^-ndn, to debate what ^tepi had better next bj taken. " In the council of many (b.ero is witrdom," tlionglit Mr. Carl Walri'.ven: ao that t;hc;o were present, lr,'' said Sii IJogcr, hanglitiiy. " The bare insinuation is uti in-idl. >dis3 Dane \\\ii u\\ j)lightou wife of her o^'ii free will.'" " ^ our i'ardon, 8ir Koger. ^'ct, j.loaio remember, ^diws Dane u'as a highly eccentric vourig lady, and the rules that hold good in other caies fail here. She was iiccuL^tonud to do mosL extraoidinary thing?, for the me- sako of beitig odd iind uncommon, us 1 take if. IFcr guaruiiui vrill bear me oat; therefore 1 still cling to tho i)t)S.-,iliiiity. " *' Besides, young ladies possessing sound hnigs will hardl/ permit ihemselves to be carried oil wilii')iit raisir.g an outcrv," said Ml'. .Sardonyy; "and in this cu.-e there was none, 'i'he faintest cry would iiavo been hi'urd." " iSfeither were ili.ru any traces of !i : ijiigido," put in lSb\ Ingclow, "and the chamber window w;!< found unfastened, as if tho bride h"d loo^;'^-d it herself iind steppeil out." THE (NfcKl'N BltlDEOKOOil. 71 •Sir Iiogor lookod atigiily urounu, witli u ghiay* Lli.iL soumecl lo jihIc if ilicy W(^ri; all in a cons[iirafy ajruiiu-L him; hul, beforo h(! (^(liild .s[tL'a!-;, tho (U)(.>i'-beil vaii^ loiidiy. Mr. Wulravcii reniciubcMvd tiie imonyiuoua note, and stui tod violently. An inst;infc later, they licurd a ser-;ant op.'n the door, and then hoiHe. 'rJRro was one sininltanoous rui^li oiit ol" flio flrawinrr-room, and d'AVii-stairs, Tliere, in iho ball, dtoud \\ ils /n, ibo I'ooL- lUcin, i^laring and gai^ping a-; if liu bad L^ccn a ghost; and there, in the (b)or-\vay, u fiilvory, sbinin^^ viriion, in the snowy bridui robes siio had worn last, atood Jlollie Dane I 1 wiki, ringing shriek eehocd llirough the CIIAPTKR X. TIIK I'AH.'^ON'y LIlTl.)-: STORY. TiTEin-: was a dead paust^; blank amazement sat on every I'aoi'; no one .stirred for an inrflant. Tlien, with a great cry of joy. tho WeL^h baronet sprung forward and caught his lost bride in bi.'i arms. " My MolliL—my MoUiel ■\[y darling!" But bis darling, instead <■( returning his rapturous em- brace, disengaged lierself wiili a aiiddeu jerk, " Pray, Sir Uoiiei, tut'd't make a soenel Ciuardy, how d'yo do: Is it after liinner? I'm ilr' adfuliv tired and b.inigry"" "Mollie: (iued heavens, Molliel "■ " " ' ' gas[)ed Mr. W alraven, starinu" au'liast !5> " Now — now your asking: IS this really J'ou.-' ' •'" cried i\Iios i>ane, testilv; " wliat's the good n of your asking ridiculoin (picstions, (iuardy AValra\en? Whore's y ur eyes-ight? Don't you see it's me? 'Will you kindly lot mo pa^>', gentlemen? or am I to stand heiO all night on e.\liil)itinn?" Evidently the stra.y buub had relurncd to tho fold in shock- ing bad tem[)er. The gentlemen ijarring ber jias^^age iitslant- ly j)nido way, and Mollie turned to aseen\l tho staircase. "I'm going to my roo.ii, gnardy,'" she condescended to i^ay, with her fo^Jt on tlio lirst carpeted step, " und y.)U will })leaso send Luey up with tea and toast immediately. I'm a great deal too tired to oli'er any e\[ilanation to-night. I feed UB it I had lieen riding al)i>ut in a h:iv'kney-(!ariiage for i\ ceid,- ury or two, like I'etcr Ituug. tho mi.-ising man — if you ever heard of Peter;" with which Mi:-'s l)ane toiled slowly and wearily up tlie graixi staircase, and tho group of gentlemen were left in tho hull below blankly gazing in unu another's faces. THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. " Kuiiueutly characteristic," obtservctl. Mr. lugelow, the lir.^t to break the silence, with u soft laugh. " Upon my wonl," sai.l Or. Oleandei-, with hirf deaih's-hoad emile, " Mi^s MolJie'ri rtturn is far more rt'inarkabJo) than her departurel That yount,' huly's s'n/t/-j'r(,i({ r(;quirc\s to bo Hoen to be beiibveil in." " Where can she have been?'* asiied Lawyer Hardonyx, helpK-ssly takinjr suuil. Tlie two ui.-n uioat interested in the younj:^ lady's return said nothing; they were far beyond that. They could only look at tai-h other in mute astonishment. At last — *' 'J'he anonymous letter did speak the truth," observed Mr. Walravtn. " What anonymous letter?" asked Lawyer Sardonyx, sharply. " Sir Roger received an anonymous letter a week a<:;o, in- forming him Mollie would be baek a week after its date. Wo reither ^ Dane, when kIic has recovered from her present fati'^ue and hungtr, to explain for hers-elf. " "Thanks, Ingeloiv " — Mr. Wair.iven tnrne(l a gratcfid glance upon the lounging artist — " and, mtiuitime, geiitlo- men, let us adjourn to tho drawing-room. Standing talking here I don't a.imire. " Ho lei the Wiiv: tho others followed — Sir IJoger last of all, lost ;n a rha;;e of bewilderment that >. tt-trly spoiled his joy ut hie bride's return. THE UISSKLX riUIDEOUGOy.. 93 " What caa it nifai)? "What can it mean?" ha kept per- petually ii^kin[)erafed beyond everything at Mollie presuming to return at all. She w.is sure she had got rid of her so ni(!cly — so sun- Mistress .'•h/llie had cruue to grit 1' in some way for her sins — that it waa a little too IhuI to have her come walking coolly ba(:k and tak- ing poss'cssiop. a!:;ain, as if nothing had happened. JJreakfast h()ur arrived, but Miss Dune did not arrive wit.h it. They waited ten minutes, wheti Mrs. Carl lost patience jnd iH'otested angrilv she woidd not wait an instant longer. '* Iv'ci'utricity is a little too miM a word to apj)ly to your ward's actions, Mr. Walraven," fho said, tmniiig angrily njv-n her husL'ttiid. "• j\I<'Uie i)ane '}■:■ ciiln r ;i very mad girt or a very wicked o/io. Lu eith.er casr, she is a lit subject for a 7i THE UNSEEN ISKIDEGROOM. lunfitic asylum, and the sooner iJic is incised in a strait-jacket and her antics eudtd, tlie belter.'^ " Jladamel" thiiiidered Mr. 'Walravrn, fmi, u;^iy, ^vhile llio baroni t reddcued with rage to Ih.' roots of his eilvery hair. "Oil, I^m not afaiid of you, Mr. Widiiuen," snid Mrs. Widraven, cooUy, "nor, afraid to speak my /n'nd. eitlicr. Kone but a lnnati>.' would act as bhe has acted, ri.nnir,^ away on her wiMlding-night and coming b;ii !< a fortnight after. The idea of her being forciMy abducted is all stidT and nio tell mo what you all thought." " I'll tell you Jiothing of tho sort,'^ said her guardian, sternly. " Have you no feeling in that llinty heart of yotu-s, MoUie Hane?" " Well, now, guardy, it you'll believe me, I'm not so sure I've got a heart at all. 'I'here's something that beats hi here "' — l;i[)ping lightly on lier white bodice — *' i-ut for going frantic with love or hate, or ji'alousy or sorrow, or any of those hysterical things that other pciplc'.s hearts y-im made for, I don't believe I have. I tell you this frankly " — glancing side- wavs at .Sir liog(!r Trajenna — " in order to Wiirn you and cverybi (ly not to be too fond of me. I'm not worth it, yon see, and if you take mo for more than my value, and get dis- apitointed afterward, the faidt's not mine, l»ut yours." Mr. Walraven looked at lier in surprise. " IJafher a lengthy speech, isn't it, Jlollie? Suppo-:e you leave olt lecturing, ami tell us where you've been for tho last two weeks." " Where do yon suppose I've been?" " We can't Mippose on such a (|aestiou; it is impossible. 1 desire vou to tell us." " And if 1 don't, guardy?" She looked up at him rather dclianlly — seated on a low stool, her (^Klsh chin in her eiiisli hand, her Jiretty litl le r(>se* bloom face ])eeping brightly out from ike acentcd vellow curls^ *' Mollie!" 76 THE UNSKEN BRIDKCROOf. " Giiardy, see liere: it's of no uso gcttinpj crops. T can't tell you whcro I've been, bectiuso 1 don't know nivself. " "Muliic!" " It's true as preaching, guardy. Yon know I don't toll fibs — excej)t ill fiiti. I don't know whcro I was, and so I rau't tell you, and I'd a good deal rather you wouldn't ask me." "Molliol" " Oh, what's tlie U3e of Mollioing?" cried the young lady, waxing impatient. " 1 was taken somewhere, and 1 don't know where — 'pon my word and honor, I don't — and I was k(!pt a })ris»ner in a na=ty room, by pei)[)le 1 don't know, to puukut the baronet was so pale, and troubled asking his questions that she had not the heart to refuse. " That young person. Sir Koger, called herself Sarah Grant. The letter piu-ported to come from a woman who knew me before 1 knew myself. It told me tdu; was dying, and liad important revelations to make to mc— implored im- to liar^.tcn at once if I woidd see her alive. J believed tlie letter, and went with Sarah. T'liat letter, Sir lioger, was a forgery and M trap." " Into which you fell?" '* Into which I fell headlong. '^Fhe greatest ninny alive cnnld not have been snared mote easily." " Yoi> have no iiiea who j)erpet!ated this atrocity?"' " No," said Mollie, " no idea. I wish I had! If I wouldn't make him sup sorrow in spoonfuls, my name's not Midlie! There, Sir Roger, that will do. You've hoard all I've got to tell, and the bettor way will be to aslc no more qnrsrinns. If you think I am not sufficiently explicit — if you think \ keep anything hivck that you have a right to knuw — why, there iti only one course left. You can take it, and welcome. I re- THE UNSEKN BHTDEGROOM. 77 lease yoii from iill tics to mo. 1 nhall think you {»tiirec;t!y jus- lili'il, iuii] wo will cdJttiniie tlie bont |)03si!ili! frietids." tSlic riuid it ill lalv, with uu cyo tijiit ilushoil jukI a clieeic llint bnrni'l. " There id only one Ihi'i':; ciin iniike uti (juarnl, Si^ |{not^: ..-ihi-.t is, uskiTicf niP '[iiostion.s 1 don't chooso f,o unsvver. An'lf — and I ruther fancy 1 dol Oji, no, Mr. Walraven — no, you don't! 1 slia'n't say unotiier word to you, or to any othm* living being, until 1 choose; a?id it's no ui-ii bullying, for yon can't malvo lae, you know. I've given (Sir Roger his alternative!, and I can give ^on yours. If you don't fancy my remaining hero under a clond, why, T can go as I came, free as tho wind that bbws. You've only to say the word, (juardy Ualraven!" The blue eyes Ihishcd as Oarl "Walraven had never seen tliem Hash before; the ])ink-tirii:ed cheeks flamed rose-red; but her voice never rose, and .sh-j kipt her quaint seat on tin stool. "Cricket! Cricket! Cricket!" was "guardy's" reproach, fnl cry. " "^'ou dear old thing! You wouldn't like to lose your Imtitful little torn-boy, would yon? Wtll, you slia'n't, either. 1 only meant to siaru you that time. You'll uik me no more nasty questions, ajid I'll stay and be your Crick' i Il)e same as ever, and we'll try and forget the little epi'-'ode of ilie past two weeks. Anil as for you, h»ir lioger, don't you do anything rasii. -lust think things over, and mitko sure you're perfectly satislied, b^'foro you havo anything to do with ni.\ f(;r 1 don't intend to explain any more Uian 1 have e.\[)hunL'd. I'm a goed-for-notliing, giddy lit lie moth, I know; but I doi;'t, really want to deceivn anybody. No; don't rpoak on impuls(;, dear Sir IJoger. Tako a week or two, and think ubout it." She kissed her hand (!oquettishly to the two gentlemen, and tripped out of the ro"m. And there Ihcy sat, looking at each oth'T, aUogothcr be- wildered and dazed, and altogether more infatuated ab;'Ut her than ev(!r. Society was eleetrilied at finding ?-!'s:3 Dane back, and hxked 78 THF. 1X3F.KN BRTPrfUtOOM. j^aRorly for tlio r.equtj io |]ii,-i liitio romunoe. 'I'hey got it A'lOni ^Tr. Waliiucti. Mr. v. iiiriiven, iiliuul ua oil, told Hicm lii-^ wurii li.id rocoivod 071 h(;r brid;ij ?ii.i;iit !i ;-niiniiiony to tho bcd.-id-j ol' u liyiiij,' and vory near reliitivo. i\[isd J)ano, ever impiilHive imd eoceiitric, li;id srnne. SIio hud renminod witii tho (lying rolntivo for a fortiii>:;lit, iiiid mertdy for luisi liief — no iiocd to Itll thoni how mirfciiii.:vr/iis iii:5 ward was — liatl kept thn tvhn!i> nuittor a secret. It was vory provoki'ig, certainly, but wa.s ,iii-ry unusually cpiiet. Ilcrfaoe and neck gleanied ai.'.''.inst her ])ink dinner-dross lilio snow, and her eyes wand; red f lU'tively evei' a!id anon over to (he licverend Mr. Ifashloiidi. She listened to every word that he r])oke as though they were the fal)ied pearls and diamonds uf the fairy tale that dropjied from his lij)s. " Positively, Miss Dane," Hugh Ingelow remarked in his lazy voice, "it i.s love at lir.st sight with the iievcrend Ray- mond. 'J'hink better of it, i)ray: he's fat and forty, and has one V, ife already." " Hush!" said ]\Iollie, imperiously. And Mr. Ingelow, stroking his mustache meditatively, hushed, and Ikstened to a story the Ifeverend ^Mr. L'a'^hleigli was about to relate. " So extraordinary n story," he said, glancing around him, " that 1 can hardly reali/.r it. myself nr tu'eiiit my own senses. It is the only adventure of my life, and I am free to confess I ftish it may renuiin so. " It is aboidi three wicks ago. I was sittiiig, one ttormy •light — 'Tuesday night it was — in mv studv, in after-(lin?uu' inood, enjoying the luxury of a gnod lire and a private clerifal cigar, wh'ii a young woman — respectable-looking \i»iing jjcr- soD — entered, and informed mo that u sickly reliitivc, Ironi 80 THE UNSP.F.N TlKIDKOnOOM. whom 1 luivo expectations, was dying, and witjhod to see mo iuinicdiiitely. " Of course I stiirtcd up «t onco, donned li;it uiid jrrciit- eoiit, and followed mv Mspoctidih; yniin;,' pt'r,-(;n into a cab \vaitin of Carl WairavenI 'No; 1 told liim be- fore, and I tell you now, I would die in a kennel, like a stray ilo-jT, befoi'o r would aciicpt help from him." "MiriamI" Miriam made an impatient gesture. " Don't let us talk about me. J^et us talk about yourself. It is my lirst chiince since you came here, ^'ou are well and happy, are you not? You look b()tii. " " J am well und I am happy; that 's, as happy as 1 can be, Ehroude 1 in mystery. Miriam, 1 hav(! been thinkitig about myself. I have learned to think, of laus and I would give a year of my life to kiu)W who I am." " What do you want to know?" ^riiiam iisked, gloomily. " Who I am; what my mime may be: who were my jmrenla — everyihing that 1 ought to know." " Why do you s])eak to me about it?" " lic(;ause you know, J am certain; becau.se you can tell Hie, if you will. Tidl me, Miriam — teil mel" She ieuncd forward, her rinji'cd bauds clasped^ her blue i^yea 84 THE UKSEEN BRIDEGROOM. lighted and eager, her pretty I'acc aglow. But Miiiam drew back with a frown. " I liuvf! ii.nliin;,^ t(» tell you, Mollie— nothing that would make you belt ?r or happier to hear, l^c content and ask ho questions.'' " J can't be content, and I must ask questions!" the girl cried, passioinitoly. " If you cared fur uie, as you sfu ru lo, you would tell nv ! What is Mr. Walraven to me? Why has he broi'tj;nt me here?" "Ask him." " lie woTi't tell me. He says ho took a fanov to me. seeing me play ' Fanchon ' at K , atul brought me here and adopted me. A \ery likely story! ]S"o, Miriam; I am Billy enough. Heaven knows, but 1 am not quite so silly as that. He eauie after me bi'causu you .sent him, and because I have some claim on him he dare not forego. What is it, Miriam? Am I his daughter?" Miriam sat and slared at her a moment in admiring won- der, then her dark, giiunt face relaxed into a grim smile. "Whit a sharp little witch it is! Ifis daughter, indeed! What do you think about it yourself? Does the voice of nat- ure speak in your lilial heart, or is tho resemblance between you so strong?" Mollip -dioi.k her sunny curls. " The ' voice of nature ' has nothing to say in the matter, and I am no m >ie like ium than a wliite duck is like u mae- tiil. But it might he .^o, you know, for all liiat. " *' 1 know. Would it make you any haj)pier to know you were his daughter?" " J don't know," Paid Mollio. thoughtfully. " I dare say not. For, if 1 were his daughter and had a right to his name, 1 would probably bear it. and bo putilicly ai'knowledged as such before no(v; and if J am his ihiughter, with no r^gbt to his name, I know I would not live ten minutes under the same roof with him after finding it out," " Sharp little Mollie! Ask no (jueslions, then, and Fll toll you no lies. Take the goods the gods provide, and be con- tent." " But, Miriam, are you really my aunt?" " Yes; that much is true." " A:\d your name is Dane?" '- It is.^ " And my mother was your sister, and I bear my mother'« name?" Tlie dark, weather-beaten face of tli« haggard womaa THTi: UNSEEK BUTnEOROOM. 85 lighted up witli a fiery glow, and into oitlier «yo leaped a devil. " Moilio Dane, if j-ou ever want mo to spoak to yoii again, nevor breathe tlie name of your imther. Wiiatover f-lie did, and whatever she was, the grave has closed over her, nnd there let her lie. 1 nrver want to hear her name this side of eternit}'." Mollie looked almost frightened; she shrunk away with a wistful little sigh. " 1 am never to know, then, it seems, and I am to go on through life a cheat and a lie. It is very hard. lYople have found out already 1 ani .lOt what I seem." '' irow?" sharply. " Why, the night 1 was deluded from home, it Wiis by a letti'r signed ' Minan:,' purporting to eomo from you, sayijig you were dying, and tiiat you wanted to tell me all. 1 went, and walked straight into the cunniugest trap that ever was set for a poor little girl." " You have no idea from wlmin lliat letter came?" " Not the slightest. 1 am pretty sure, though, it came from my husband." " Your— what?" " My husband, Miriam! You didn't know Miss Dane was a respectable married woman, did you? It's true, however. I've been mairied over a month." There was no doubting the face with which it was said. Miriam sat staring, utterly confounded. " rjood heavens! Married! You never mean it. Mollie?" *' 1 do mean it. It's an nccomf>lished fact, Mrs. Miriam Dane, and there's my we.dding-ring. " She held up her left hand. Among the opals, and pearls, and i)ale em«Malds flashing there, gleamed a little circlet of plain gold — l^adge .)f woman'.< servitinie. " Married!" Miriam gasped, in indescribable consternation. " I thought you worv to marry Sir Tiogi'r Trajenmi?" *' So I was — so I wo(dd liiive, if I liad been let alone. But that letter from }ou ciime — that forgery, you know — and I was carried off ami married, willy-nilly, to somebody else. Who that somebody else is, I don't know." "You don't know?" " Haven't the slightest idea! I've a good mind to tell you the story. I haven't fold any ot-n yet, and the weight of a .secret a month old is getting a little too miieh for mo. It would bo a rtli«f to gft some one idse to keep it for mc, and 1 fancy you liould keep a secret as well as any one else I know. '' 86 TIIC LXPf'KX DUiniXlROOM. niim wi. 11,(1 gr,VA> star!.', " I ' un kn'p your .-'lei-et, Mollic. Go on." So Mr!ly- hi';.'..n and rt-liitod llio ronuuitic story of Hint fortni^'lit .-"ho hui pii?r;('il away Lrm h nuv. " Airi yo!i ff'iiS'Mitcd to niurry Ijiiur" ^lliiaiu c.\(-I;;iiii('d, whiT. elu' liiil fTL't lliiit f:ir — " yon coiisonlcd lo Jiuirry a nr.\n totally ur:kr:MV. II to yrn, *vhoso lace ViJii had not evi'ii si ■.)■,. \vhc;-f nani'' you diil not, even l^i'ow, for tlio t-'akc of freed pni? ^lollif, vou'ie nothing but a midc-rablo iiltlc oor/ard, nitor aii:*-' •' r.rhaps so," said MoH'.o, detinntly. " I^it I would do it again, and tn-jce a.-! niiuh, for freedom. 'I'jjink of boiiif; cooped up in four siitlinp; wall^, shut in from the blessed snn- (■hine and fc.-.li air of heaven. I teil yon that have kept me there until now, and ] .should Inivi ^ , starin;.' mad in half thf time. Oh, dear!" cried Moliie, ini patiently, " I wish I was a ;.rypi-'v, free arjd h:ii)py, to waniicr about all day lon;,^ iin_;iin_w in ihe sntishino, to sleep at ni«:lit under the wavii:?,' treta, to tell fortune?, and wear a pretty searlet cloak, and never know, when I got up in tlu* morniiig, where I would lie down at nipht. It's nothing but a imiH- anoe, and a tionbie, nnd a bother, being rich, and die.s-ing for dinner, and g'^mr to the opera and two or three parties of a night, and being obligerl to talk and walk and eat and sleej) by line an^l plummet. 1 hate it all I" "You're tired of it, then?" Miriam asked, with a curioui smile. •• Yes; as other " 1 woHiiL-r you never take it into your upon the siage. ^'"ii lik d that life?" "Liked it:-' Yrri: and f will, too," said Mollic, reeklessly, "some day, when I'm more than usually aggravated. Jt strikes me. however, J fii')uld like to iind out my huriband first." " Finish your .storv. ^'oii nnvrried thi.-! masked man?" " Yes: that vciy night, about midiught, W(> were married. .Sarah canu to me early in the evening, ami told me to bf ready, iha*. the elorgynuin woidd be there, and that 1 was to be wedded under mv Christian mime, Mary, alone. I still wore the wedding-robes in which 1 was to have been made Lady Tiajenna. To llieso a white tilk niabk, completely hid- ing ntv fac", wa.i added, and I w.i-^ kil forth by my njabkid brid(;^room iritu another aiuitmenl . and ; t<*()d face to f;ice with a poitly, revciend gentleman of mo.t clericid aspect and most aiarmt'd fuee. i tlumglit he had a familiar look, \nxt in ;; just now I am. The iii will jiass away, I supjiose, similar tits have jassed." head to "o back THE LXHIEX T'.r.IDKGROOM. 87 llJUt !IC(1, till- I- tiifuvimi of .such a luoiiiciif, I coulJ ii'.it fihioe liim. 1. l:i!fi\v him iimv, Uu)ii;^h — it «'!is tho UiiVL'ivrul Kiiynioml ll,u\\- i.'i.^'i, cogHi/e his \oice, .1 (laie sav; and lu; spoke it as llueiiily as a Frem liiiuui. J!ut he was really an agr-'tdjlo comitaiuon, could talk about vything I liked to (alk about, could })lay tlie piano to a Oiarm, aiid 1 should have !il '1 him immensily if \w had not bi\>n mv husband, and if h " had not worn that odious mask. I); you know, Miriam,'' llasliing a sudden look up. "if ha had tak'M oil' that mask, and showed me the htvndsimie facf^ of one of my rejected suitors I did not absolutely abhor, f think I shouLl have con;^ent:'d to stay with him alwa\s. Ifo wa-j so luee ti> talk to, and 1 liked his bold stroko lor u wife — so much in the * Dai'c-D'vil l)iid< ' .-(vie. .15ut i wcudd have been torn to pieces before I'd have droi)ped a hint to tliafc olTect." "If it ha 1 l.een Doctor Oleander, would you have con- .sented to stay with liim as Ids wife?" " Doctor OhMuder? \o. Didn't I say if it were some one 1 did not iibsolutely abhor? I ab'-olidcly and utterly and alto- gBfchor abhor uiul detest Doctor Oleunderl" 88 TlIK UNSEEN BKlDEfiUOOil. " Wbut ia that? Some one is lisLoiiiiig. '' Miriam hiul started in alarm to her fwf,; Mollie ix)se uj» also, and btoixi lu-iirkoniiig. TIutu !):t(l bet n h e(i|ipiea.r;t,U sound, like a convulsive sneeze, ciit.-^idu tlio door, MoUio flnng it wide in xii instant. Tho hall lam[) pound down its subdued light all along Ihe stately corridor, on pictures and btatuos and nabinets, but tio living thing was visible. " There is no one," said Alitllie. It was cats or rats, or tho rising wind. Every one in the house is aslrop. " She closed the door and went back to the tire. As she did so, a face peeped out from behind a great, carved Indian cab- inet, not far from tho door — a face iighled with a diabolical umile uf trium]>h. CIIAPTEU XII. " BI-ACK MASK "- -" ^V^ITE MASK." " Finish your story!" exclaimed Miriam, impatiently. " Mori.ing is coming, and like owls and t)ats and oiher nox- ious creatures, I hide Trom tho daylight. How did you escape?" *' I didn't escape," said Mollie. " I couldn't. Tho week expired — my masked husband kept his word and sent nie home." " .S'Mt you I Did ho not fetch von?" " 5io; the man whu drove th carriage — who, with the girl Sarah, witnessed (he cjarriage- -brongiit me. Sarah bound IBS, aitb«)ugh there was no occasion, and tho man led mo «k-imn aail put me \n. Sarah accompanied me, and I was *br§Tea to the very Cicner here. They let me out, an. I, before I had time to cuteh my b.-euiii, were oil" and away." " Ani that is all?" said Miriam, wonleringlv. " Ah! I shoui I think it was enough. It sdum Is more like a chapter out of the ' Castle of Otranto,' or the ' Jlysli'ries o( Udolpho,' than an incident in the life of a mml-rn New York belle. For, of course, you know, Miihimi! Mn-iani," oondiid- ed the pretty coquette, tossing back airily all her bright curls, *' 1 am a belle — a n igning bt-lle — the bcuuty of the sra>'on!" " A little conceited, goosey girl — th;it's what you are, Mol- lie Dane, whom evoL *ihij '.eriible event can not make serious and sensible." " Terrjt)le event! Now, Miir.m. I'm not so sure about tbilt. if 1 liked the hero of the anv't nture — and I have liked some of my rejected flirtees, ])oor follows! — I should admire his pluck, and fall straightway in love witli liini for his ro- THE UNSEEN P,RIDEGEOOM. 89 'I' mantio daring. It is so like what those old follows — knights anil barons and things — usod to do, you know. And if I didn't like him — if it were Sardonyx or Olciindo'; — sure, thore would be tho fun and faiuo of having my name in all the papers in the country as the heroine of tho most romantic ad- venture of modern times. I'liere would be sensation noveKs and high-pressure melodramas mamifai'turcvl out of it, and I would llgure in the Divorce Court, and wake up some day, like Lord J*.yron, and lind mysidf tamous. " Miriam listened to this rattle with a face of infinite con- tempt. "Silly child I It will ruin your prospects for life. Sir lloger will never marry you now." " No," said Mollie, composedly, " 1 don't think he will; for tho simple reason that I wouldn't have him." " Wouldn't have him? What do you mean?" " What I say, auntie. I wouldn't marry him, or anybody else, just now. I meiin to find out who is my husband tirst. " " Po they know this extraordinary story?" Mollio laughed. " No, poor th-ings! And he and guardy are dying by inches of curiosity, (ruardy has coiujocted a story, and tel!:i it with his blandest air to everybody; and everybody smiles, and bows, and listens, and nobody bfdieves a word of it. And that odious Mrs. Carl — there's no keeping her in tho dark. IShe has the cunning of a serporit, that wonnm. She has an inkling of the truth, already." " How?" " Well. Mv. Kashleigh — the clorgymtm. you know, who was alnlucted to marry ut^ — was at a diniior-party this very day — or, rather, yesterday, for it's two in the morning now — and at diimer he related his whole wonderful adventure. Of course, he didn't see my face or know nic; but ho described the brido — '^mall, slender, with a profusion of golden ringlets. You .shoiili! have seen Mrs. Carl look across the table at me —you should have h "ard her hiss in my ear, in her venomous, ser- pent-liko way: ' I think I know where you spent that fort- night.' 1 couldn't sleep to-night for thinking of it, and that's iiow 1 camo to be awake so late, and to see y')u tr;>m the win- dow, f'tn not afraid of her; but J know she means me mis- < hi.'f, if .she can." Miriam gaz^'d Ihouirhtfully at her. She looked }i very help- lestf, childish little creature, sitting thore — tho youthful face looking out of that sunshiny elouil of curls. r40 TIFF-: rXREEN T.I! IDEO ROOM. " tSlio is yo!u- (U:i;lly enemy, then, MoUio. Why does she dislike you l^o much?" " Because T dislike her, I .siijijiose, and iihrsiv^ did, iind she knew it. Jt is ii ciise of mutual repuj ^iou. '\\'e won; eiieniica at firfcit siL'lit. Then ylie is jealous of riic — of my iuliueneo with hor hushaud. I^he is jH'ovoked thut she w\ not fathmn i!ie mystery of my belongings, and she thinks, J know, i am Wr. Walriivcn'd dau.irhter, ,'llic. iiiihily. " i 'd uive him and tin; hand- some lilanche a do^re cf rftryclnn'ne ( aeh, with all tlie jdea-'.ure in life, if it wasn't a hanginjf nitittcr. J doJi't ''are about beinjij luiufxod. Jt'.s liad enough Lo bo married and not knovr who your inuiband is.'' " ir, may be this ]>oi-lor Oleander." ilollie's eyes bla/.cd up. " If it is!" — she eatiglit her breath and stojijr.Ml — " if it is, Miriam, I vow I would blow his l)rf his mask?" " It i.s not so easy to recognize -a masked man when ho dis- guises him.-;elf in a long (doak and np'-aks l-'rcnch in a feigned voice. Those tluv'e nu'.n an* very niii' li of a luigli!, ami all arc straight and slender. I tried and tried again, J tell you, dtiring that, last week, and always failed. Sometimes 1 thought it was one, and Komelimes anotlu^r. " " 1'ry once more," said Miiiaiu, pithily. " How?" Are ynu afraid of this ma kevl man?" "Afraid? Certainly not. I have nothing to fear. Did h'"' n<:)t k"ep his word and restore mc to my friendt* at the ex- piration of the week? You xiiould have heard him, Miriam, at that last interview — tlie elxjuent, earnest, inipassioned way in whiel) h(^ bid me good-bye. I declare, I felt lem]itei' f')r Jill instant to say: ' Look here, Mr. Miisk; if you love me like thai, and if you're absolutely not a fright, take off that ugly, black dealh'ri-head you wear, and I'll stay with you always, sinie I am your wife.' IWit I didn't." " You would not fear to meet him again, then?" '■ On the contrary, I should like it, of all things. There is a halo of ronjance about this mystej-ious husbaiivl of mine that reiuhMN him intensely interesting. (lirls love n^mance dearly; and I'm only a girl, you know." " And the silliest girl I ever did know," suM !\Iiiiam. " I believe you're more tlian half in l.»vu with f!ii> man iu the mask; and if it turns out to be the artist, )'oii will plumii into his arms, iorever and aUvays." " 1 shouldn't wondir in the least," res])onded the young lady, coolly. " I ruser kiu'w how much I liked [)Oor dear Hugh until T gave hiui his iDinji. \W^ .so Aery, very, very handsouie, }(iu see, Miriam; and 1 adore beauty." " Very well. Find out if it'a he — and liud out ut onoe." 92 THE UNSEEN TUtlDEOROOM. " More easily S:iid than done, isn't it?" " Kot at all. You don't euppose ho bus left the city?*' " No. lie tol-1 me that ho would not leuvt! — that h« would reuifti!! and vviiteh mo, unscon and iinknmvn." " Tlieii, if you adverLlsc — if you address him through tha medium of the daily j):i])er8 — he will sue and answer your ad- vertit-emont. " " ViTY probably, liut he isn't goin^ to toll me who hn is. If he had any intention of doing so, he would have done it lust week." Miriam shook her head. " I'm not so sure about tluit. You never iiskod him to re- veal himself. You gave him no reason to 8U[)pose you would do otherwise tlian Hcorn and flout him, lot liim b(! who ho might. It is ditl'erent now. If it is Hugh Ingelow, you will forgive him ail?" " Miriam, see hero: why arc you so anxious I should forgive this man?" " Because I want to see you some respectable mair.s wife; because I want to see you safely settled in \\U\ ai;d n" longer left to your own caprices, or thot^e of C!arl Walravcn. If you love this Hugh Ingelow, ami nuirry him, you may j)robably beonme a rational being and a sensible nuitron yet." Mollie made a wry face. " The last thing I over want to be. And I don't beliovo half a dozen husbands would over transform me into a ' sensi- ble matron.' But go on, all the name. I'm open to sugges- tion. What do you want me to do?" " AddiOHS this num. Ask him to appoint a mooting. Meet him. Tell him what you have toM nn', and iiiak(; him reveal himself. He will be sure to do it, if he thinks there are grounds for hope." " And if it turns out to be Snrdnnyx or Oleander — and 1 have a prcsontimunt that it's thi; latter — what then?" " ' Siilllriont unto the day is the evil thereof.* I don't l)e- lievo it is either. From what you toll mo. of thorn, 1 am sure neilhor would behave so honorably at the last — keeping his promi>< to Carl Walraven; and to olTer mo a farthinf^ of Carl Walraven's money id to olYor me the deadlioKt of insults." " How you hate him I how he must have wron<;od you I" Again th'it burning blaze leaped into the woman's haggard eyes. " Ay, girl! hate and wrong are words too poor and weak to express it. 15ut I bide my time — and it will surely come — when I will have my revenifo. " She opened the door and ])aRsed out swiftly. The listener at the key-hole barely escaped behind the cabinet — no more. Mollie, in her rosy silken robes, like a little goiUkvd Aurora, followed her out, down the stair.s, and opened for her the house door. The first little pink clouds of the coming morn were blush- ing in the east, and the rag-women, with their bags and hooks, were already a.^tir. " When shall I see you again?" Mollie said. Miriim turned ami looked at her, half wonderingly. " Do you really wish to see me again, iloliie — such a wretclied-looki'.ik being as I am?" " Are you not luy aunt?" Mollie cried, passionately. " How do ] kn >\v ih re is another being on this earth in whose reins How the si;m'; blood as mine? And you — you love me, I think." " Heaven knows I do, Mollie DancI" " Then why wrong me by such a question? Come again, and again; ami come soon. I will b- And now, farewell!" She held out her little white hand, had ])arted. The young girl went slowly back to her room to disrobo mJ on the watch for you. A moment, and they IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // // f/. y ^ 1.0 l^m |2.5 ■^ 1^ III 2.2 1: 1^ 2.0 •- ^^ 1.4 |,.6 I.I 1.25 A" ► -^ b VJ .^^ /: 'c>^ c*l >^ ^?^>;^^^- //^. ^j?^ ^w V Photogisphic Sciences Corporation '^^ ^ •^ ^ ^ \\ ^9) V ^. 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 145B0 (716) 872-4503 ^^ ^ \ <*^^ O^ i^ \ O V 94 TIIK UNSF.F.X HUIDlXJKOOif. U(> ilowii, au',1 tho htiggiinl wduhui liilLcd nijtidiy 1i\)(n .street to fiiroct, uii hor \v';iy L'j i.he droiviy loJgingd slio ciillcil homi.'. 'Pwo i,A( K ^Mask. — I vv'sli to SCO you 8:)on, and uloiie. 'I'licro is no docfj)tioii Die.uit. Appoint tini-j an I pl.ice, an I 1 will meet you, Wijitf, Mask." " So," said the woman to heraolf, " shi; ji;'-; kc|it h.-r woi'd„ l?i!ivo littlo Mollii'! OhI that if. ui.iy bo llu man kIu' lovca! 1 sliouid bo almost ha])pv, 1 think, to seo lu-r hiijipv — Mary's child:" Miriam waited impatiently for the response. In two dayi it came: " AViUTK Mark. — To-morrow, Friday ni;,dit, ten o'clock. Corner Fourteenth {Street and liroadway. JJlack Mask." " 1, too, will be there," said Miriam. " It can do no harm; it may, |X)3sibly, do some good." ClIAPTEIl XIJI. MRS. CAUL UAI.I'AVKX'.S l.lTTl.K GAME- MvsTKRious Miriam, in her dismal garret lodjjfing, waa not the only person who read, and intelligently comprehended, tiie.so two very singular advertisements. or all tho hund roils who may have perused and wondered nvv!r them, ])robal)ly there wore but four vvlio understood in tho least v.'hat was nx'.'ant — tho two most interested, and Miriam and M;--. Walraven. Stay! There was thu Kevereiul Raymond Kashieigh, vho miidit have soon his wav through, haJ he chanced to read tho " I'ersonal " column of the pa()er. Oil the Thursday morning that this last advertisement ap- pearcH.1, Mis. Carl Wahaven sat alone in the pretty boudoir sacred to hor ])rivaoy. It was her c!;'iico to breakfast alone sometimes, oi ili^halillc. It had been her choice on this ])ui- ticular day. At hor elbow stood the tiny round table, with its ex(|uisite appointments of glass, and porcelain, and sdver; its chocolate, its toast, its eggs, its little broih'd bird. Mrs. Walraven was of the luxurious sort, as your full- blown, high-blooded Cleopatras are likely to bt;, and did ample justice to tlio exquisite cuinmc of the Walraven man- sion. THK UNSKEK l;l;II)K(iUOO.\!. ns Lying back graeofnlly, her linmlsome moniiiig robe falling Joos(!ly iiroinid her, hor .'■•up''rb blu-k hair twisted away in u carchiris, Heipent-irii' coil, hir faco fresh and blooniin;^^ " ji^ j)i:a(!o with tho world and all therein,'' my lady JUiinciio digested lu-r breakfast and leiii-urely skimmeil the morning paper. rSho always liked the "Personals." To-day they had a double interest for her. She reail again and again — a doxen timi'H, at least — that particular " Personal " ajipointing the meeting at Fourteenth Street, and a lazy smile canio over her tro])ical face at last a.i b:he laid it down. "iS'iithing could be better," mused Mrs. Walraven, with that inilolcnt smile shining in her lazy, wicked black eyes. *' The little fool bets her trap, and walks into it herself, liko the inconceivable i.liot t;he is. It reminds ojie of the ostriih, this advertisement — pretty Mollie buries her head in the sand, and fancies no one sees her. Now, if (!iiy only ]/lays his part — and I think he will, for he's absurdly and ridiculously in love with the fair-haired tom-bov — she will be caught in the nicest trap ever silly s-'ventcn v/alked into. She was caged once, and got free. She will fnid herself caged again, and not got free, i shall have my revenge, and Guy will have Ills m- am^rata. I'll send for him at once." Mrs. Walravon rose, soug'.it out her blotting-book, took a sheet of paper and an envelojjo, and scrawled two or three words to her cousin: " DKAit Gi'Y, — Come to me at once. I wish to seo you most i)artieularl\'. Don't lose a moment. " Very truly, " Blanche." Ringing the bell, Mrs. Walr; ven dis^)atcli d this little mis- eive, and then, re(;lining easily in the downy dejiths of her violet whot/dufeiiil, she fell into a reverie that la4ed for upward of an hour. With sleepy, fdow, h:dt-e!osed eyes, the wicked ftnile just curving the ripe-red niwuth, Mnie. J^huuihe wan- dered in the land of meditation, and had her little ))lot all cut nnd dry as the toy Swiss deck on the low mantel struck up a lively waltz jwcparatory to strikiii" "leven. J'ire the last sil- very chime had (ieased vibrati?ig, the door of tho boudoir opened anil Dr. Guy OhaMler Widked in. "Good-morning, Mr.;. Walrascn," said the toxicologist, briskly. " You sent for me. What's tho matter?" lie took oil hia 'all hut, Bet it on a sofa, throw his gloves 9(5 THE JNSEEX HRTDEOROOM. into it, and indulged in a prolonged professional stare at hi« fail" relative. " Kothing very serious, I imagine. You're the picture of handsome health, iioally, Hlaiicho, the Walraven air seema to agree with yon. You grow freshet, and brighter, and plumper, and bolter-lookijig every day." " 1 diiln't send for you to pay compliments, Doctor Olean- der," said Mrs. Walraven, Ruiiling graciously, ail the same. ' See it that door is shut fadt, please, and come and sit hero beside me. I've soniethitig very serious to say to you." Dr. Oleander did as directed, and took a seat beside tho lady. " Your husband won't happen in, will he, Blanche? lie- cause he might be jealous, you know, at this close proximity; and your black-a-vised men of unknown antecedents are generally tho very dickens when they fail a prey to the green- eyed monster." " Pshaw! are you not my cousin and my medical adviser? Don't bo absurd, Guy. Mr. Walraven troubles himself very little about me, one uay or other. I might hold a levee of my gentk-men friends here, week in and week out, for all be would know or care." "Ah! po8t-nu[)tial bliss. 1 thought marriage, in his case, would be a safe atitidote for love. All right, lilanche. Push ahead. What's your business'-* Time is precious this morn- ing. Hosts of patients on hand, and an interesting case of lej)ro8y up at Bellevue." " I don't want to know your medical horrors," said Mrs. Walraven, with a shudder of disgust; " and I think you will throw over your patients when you hear tho subject 1 want to talk about. That subject is— Mollie Dane!" " Mollie!" The doctor was absorbed and vividly interested all at; once. " What of Moliio Dane?" " This," lowering her voice: " 1 have found out the grand secret. 1 know whore that mysterious fortnight was spent." "Blanche I" He leaned forward, almost breathless. " Have you? Where?" " You'd never guess. It sounds too romantic — too incred- ible—for belief. Even the hackneyed truism, ' Truth is istranger than liction,' will hard'y suttice to conquer one's astonishment — yet true it is. Do you recollect the Reverend Mr. Rashleigli's story at tho dinner-party, the other day — tluiu iniu-edible tale of his abduction and the mysterious mar- liago of tho two masks?" '* I recollect — yes." 1 THE UNSEEN BKIDEOROOM. •7 *' He spoko of the bride, you remember — described her aa Bnaall and slender, with a profuiiou oi fair, curling hair." " Yes— yo8 — yes!" "Guy,*' fixing her powerful blank eyes on his face, "do you need to be told who that masked bride was?" " Mollie Dane!" cried the doctor, impetuously. " Mollie Dane," said Mrs. Walraven, calmly. " By Jovel" Dr. Oleander sat for a instant perfectly aghast. " I only wonder it did not strike you at the time. It struck mo, and I whispered mv sut-picion in lier ear as wo pjiaaed into the drawing-room. Jiut ehe is a perfect actress. ^Neither start nor look betrayed her. She stared at nie with those insolent blue eyes of hers, as though she could not pos- sibly comprehend.*' " Perhaps she could not." Mrs. Walraven looked at him with a quiet smile — the smile of conscious triumph. " She is the cleverest actress 1 ever saw off the stapo — so clover that I am sometimes incliiu'd to suspeo'^ she may have been once on it. No, my dear (iuy, she undersioml perfectly well. Mollie Dane was the extraordinary bride Mr. liash- leigh married that extraordinary night." " And who the devil," cried Dr. (Jiiy, using powerful lan- guage in his excitement, " was the biniegroom?" "Ahl" said Blanche,- " there's the rub! Mr. Kashlcigh doesn't know, and I don't know, uud Mollie doesn't know, herself." " What!" " My dear Doctor Oleander, yaur eyes will start from your head if you stare after that fashion. No; Mollie doe.-iu't know. Bhe is married; but to whom she lias no more idea than you have. Does it not sound irjcrtHlible'r"' " Sound? It is iriorcdible — impossible — absurd!" " Precisely. It is an accomplished fa^t, all the game.'* "Blanche, for Heaven's sake, explainl" exclaimed the young man, impatiently. " What the foul fiend do you nean? I never heard such a cock-and-bull story in all my life!" "Nor I. But it is true, neverthe'ess. Listen: On tho night following the dinner-party I did tho meanest action of my life. I played eavesdropper. 1 listened at MoUie's door. All for your sake, my dear Guy." " Yes?" said Guy, with an mcnnlulous smile. " X listened," pursued Mrs. Blanche, " and 1 overheard the 98 THE L'NSKEN r.lUI)K<51iOOM, Btimij^^est confession over m;i(](!, I heliivo — iMollio Dane rolufc- iiig tho ail venture's of tlinL liiiiiion forlnijjjht, at midnight, to thill; oiiigiihu' crciiture, Miriam." ''Miriiuii: Wlio isaho?" ' Oiil yoii rcmiimbor — tlio woman who tried to stop my marriage. MoUio quieted heron lliat oeasion, und they iiud a private talk." " Yes, yeyl J remctubor. Co on. How did Miriam come to be with MoiJie, ui.-.d wiio Ihe misehii'f is Miriam?" "Her aunt. '^ "ileraunt?" " ller motlier's sister — yes. Her motlier's name was Dane. Who that mother was," said Mrs. Walra\eii, with s])iteful emj^hasiiv " 1 fancy Mr. Wahaven could tell you." "Ahl" said her cousin, wilh a siilelong glance, "1 Bhoulilii't wonder. I'll not ask him, however. Proceed." " I took to reading a novel after 1 came liomc;" jjroceeded Mrs. Walravon, "and my husband went to bed. I ruiuiined Willi my book in the drawing-room, very mudi interested, until nearly midnight. 1 fancied all in the hou.e had retired; therefore, when 1 hrard a soft rustling of silk swishing jjast the drawing-ro(jm door, J was considerably surprised. An instant later, and tiie house door v»as softly unfastened. 1 turned the handle noiselessly and peeped out. There, in her pink dinner toilet, jewels and all, was Miss Dane, stealing upstairs, and following her, tliis wretched, ngged creaturw, Miriam." "Well?" said the doctor. " Well, I followed. They entered Miss Dane's chamber »nd closed the door. The temptation was strong, the spirit willing, and the llesh weak. I crouclicd at the key-hole and listened. It was a very long conversation — it was fully three o'clock before Miriam departed — but it held me spell-bound with its interest from begimnng to end. 0/ioe I was nearly caught — I sneezed. I vanished behind a big cabinet, and just saved myself, for they opened the door. Mollie set it down ito the wind, or the rats, closed the door again, and my curi- osity overconung my fear of detection, I cre]»t back and lieard every word." " Well?" again said the doctor. " Well, Mollie made a clean breast of it. On her wedding- night she was enticed from the house by a letter parporiing to como from this Miriam. 'J'he letter told lier that Miriam was dying, and that she wiohtd to make a revelation of her parentage to Mollie, before «he departed for a worse laud. U THE IKSKKN i'.KIDKOROOM. 99 seems slio knows Mi^s Itiiiiu's aiiLoccilont.-', aiul Mi«3 Dauft (loesii'r,. Moliio went ut ome, as thu UovcicikI lJit\mona liiislilciij,'!! (lid, ami, Jiko him, wan blimlfuldeil uiul brminl, borne away to soiiu* unknown houses, imhtidy knows where, waited on by the j^'irl who carried tins letter, aJid held a fast |)risonor by a uian in a l)la(;k mas'li. Thiit man's faeu Mullio never s^a^v, nor has .she the least idea ol whom it may be. »Sho id inclined to suspeet von." " Mel-" 'J'he doffor's stare of asfconidliment was a .si^jit to behold. " It is yon, or Sardonyx, (.r In.L'elow — one of you three^ Mollie • cerlaiji. The i)arll(!ular ono she can't decide. Sha dreads i m;iy be either the law}i.^r or the doctor, and hopeSj with all i. r heart, it may lie the artist." J)r. Oleander's Kwartliy brows knit with a midnifrht scowl. " She is in love wiih this piipl»y, Ingelow. I have thought Hs mne'i for some time." *' iiopelessly in love with him, and perfectly willing to bo his svifo, if he proves to bo Ikt husband. Should it chance to Ix! yon, nhe will administer a dose of stryclmino tho lirst avail- Able opportunitv. " "She^aid that, did slio?" " That, and much more. She hiites, detests, and ubhond you, anil loves tho handsoiuc artist with all her heart. " " Tl;e little jade! And how about her elderly adnn'rer?" " Sir Roger? Oh! he is to get the go-by, ' Men havii died, and worms have eaten them, but not fur love.' He will stand (he blow. ' All for love, and the world \';ell lost,' is to b'j her motto for the fuinre. She is in love wilh Ifngh, and Hugh slie niust have. Tliti spoiled baby is tired of all its old toys, and wants a new (Mie." " And she married this masked man, and never saw liim? That is odd." " The whole all'air is excessively odd. Yon know how im- patient she naturally is. She grew desperate in her conllne- ment in a few days, and was ready to sell her birthright for r. mess of pottage — ready to i-iain'iliee lu-r freedom in one way fo* 'her freedom in another. She had the man's promise that Iw would return her to her friends a week after she became Im wife. She married him, and he kept his promise." *' And he never let hir see his face?" " Never! and she can not even t-iispect who it is. He wora a long, disguising cloak that coneealed his iiguro, fals;- beard and hair, and 8})oko only Freucli. Uut sh« hopes it may be lli'gh Ingelow. Whut do you think?" 100 TUE LNS];j;^ i;iiiJ)KUUooM. " That is not Hugh Ingelow. The fellow hasn't energy euougli to ontrai) a ily. " * Sanlonyx, iht'ii?" " Sanloiiyx is too cautious. lie knowa too much of the law to run !iis heail into tlio lion's jaws. J'esiilos, it is too abinirdly romaiitii: for so jxadiLal a man. No, it is not Sardonyx." " Yourself, thin?" The dortor Imi^'hed. *' Nonsense, Ijiaiiche! Mollie is out of her recknniii>^' about us three. Hy the bye, I sec now tliroiigii those (jiioer adver- tisements lliat have appeared in the ' lleiaM ' of late. Jilaok Mask -White Mask. '^ " Ye.s; Mollie wants tc find out whom she has espoused. By Miriani's advice, she inserted that tirst sklvertisement to 131aok Mask. He, as you perceive, refdies in to-day's edition.'* " And she is to meet him to-morrow night." " Exactly; and will, unless you forestall him." " JIovv?" *' Don't bo stupid, pray. What is to hinder you from being at the place of rendezvous first siud playing Black Mask?'^ " I beg your pardon; 1 am stupid still. Jilack Mask will be there iiimself." " Look here: ten is the hour. Toward evening I wiil ad- vance every time-piece in the house, Moilie's watch included, half an hour. Hha will bo at the place of tryst ut half past nine. Bo you there, likewise — cloaked, bearded, bewigged. Have a carriage in waiting. Make her think you are Hugh Ingelow, and she will enter it without hesitation. tS])eak French. She will not recognize your voice. Onco in the car- riage, carry her oti. " " Where?" asked the doctor, astonished at the rapidity of all this. " To Long Island — to the farm. She will bo as safe there as in Sing Snig. Make her think you are her unknown hus- band. It will be easily done, for she half thinks it now. Only — look out for the strychnine!" The doctor rose to his feet, his sallov/ face flushed, his small black eyes 8p:irkling. " By Jovel Blanche, what a plotter you are! I'll Co it, as sure as my name's Guy. 1 love the little witch to madness, »n\ I owe her one for the way she jilted me. I'll do it, by thunder!" " Very well," seid Mrs. Walraven, quietly. " Don't gei exoibed, and don't make a noise. I knew you would. ** '* But what will the old lady say?" THE TNSKKN BRIPEOnOOM. IOj >» I ** Who cares for tho old ladv?" retorted Mmo. Blanche, tontt'iuptuotisly. " Not you, 1 li 'pe. Tell h«r it's an iiisano patient you havi! brought to her f h- quiet and sea air. Judy IB a rej^ular dragon, and the old vvornan in as keen as a ferret and as sly as a fi-niale fox. Mollio won't escape from tlii-m. She may yield, if blio really is eonvineed you arc Iut husband. Tell her you love her to distraction — can't live without her, and so on. Slio may yield. Who knows? These girls aro bundles of ineonsi.sii'ncies, and Mollie J)ario the most incon- sistent of the tribe. Have tho ceremony performed over again bi'fon* wiliu'sscs, and bring her back here in a month — Mrs. (!uy Oleander! Even if she won't consent from pity for your state, she may to escape from that dreary Long Island farm. She did once before, you know, and may af;;iin. That is all I have to suggest, (iuy. "JMio rest is with yourself. In tho voi-abulary of great ni'Mi, tiiero is no such word as fail." She rose up. Dr. Oleander grasi>ed her hand in an out- burst of entiiusiaatic gratitude. " Blanche, you're a brick — a trump — a jewel beyond price! \ don't know how to thank you. You're a woman of genius — a wife for a Talleyrand!" " Thanks. Let me bo able to return the compliment. J ask no more. Let mo see how cleverly you will carry oft pretty Mollie. I ncTer want to see her under this roof again." CHAPTER XIV. THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. The April day had been very long, and very, very dull in the handsome Walraven Fifth Avenue palace. Long and lamentable, as the warning cry of tho banshee, wailed the dreary blast. Ceaselessly, dismally beat the rain against tho glass. The icy breath of tho frozen North was in the wind, curdling your blood and turning your skin to goosc-llrsh; and the sky was of load, and the streets were slippery and sl'>ppy, and the New York pavements altogether a delusion and a snare. All through this bad, black April day, Mollie Dane had wandered through the house, upstairs and dowu-stairs, like an uneasy ghost. Some evil spirit of unrest snroly posseased her. She could SfOllle nowhere. She throw her^u'lf on a sofa in her pretty bedroom, and tried to beguile the forlorn hours with tho latest novel. In vain. She yawned horribly over the pages and flung it from her in disgust. !02 TIIK UNSEEN lUlTDEnUOOM. SIic wiindoi'cd down to tlio (lni\vinr,'-voom and triod the gruiul })iuii;i, \vho.,(> tones wi'.ro as (ho luinic of tlio Kphoroa. Still in v;iiii. Tlio listless lingers fell aiink.saly on tlni ivory koys. iSlio strove to sleep, hut the nervous res^tl(^ssness that poa- soHsod her only drove her to tho verge of feverish madneas in t!ie elTort. The girl was ]«ossesaed of a waking niglitmare not to be shaken olT. " What is it?" cried Mojlie, impatiently, to herself. '' What iho inisehief 8 the matter with me? I never felt liko fhis hefi)re. It can't l)e remor-o for some unacted crime, t never oonimitted murder that J know of. It can't ho dys- pejisiu, ftir I've got the dige.stiv(! powiirs of an anaconda. It caa't he tlie v.eather, for I've struggleil through one or two othi>r rainy days in my life-time; and it can't bo anxiety for ■It to oome, for i'ju not apt to get irito a gale about f Terhaps it's a ])re.sentimcnt of evil to come. I'vo ^leii... of such things. It's either tliut or a tit of tho blue- devils!" 'I'ho long, wet, windy day wore on. Mr. Walraven sic[)t thiough it comfortably in his study. Mrs, Walraven had a /r/r-a-fr/r luncheon with her cousin, tho ti('Ctor, and dawdled tho slow hours away over iier tricot and fashion magazines. Old Mme. Waha\cu rarely left her own apartments of late davs. iMother-in-1'^w and diiughter-in-!aw detested each other with an intensity not common ev(;n in that relationship. How sho ever killed time was a my-tery unknown. IMollie good- iiatiu-eJly devoted a couple (>r her precious daily houivj to her. Tho house was as still as a toml). Down-stairs, Messrs. Johnson and Vv'ilson, Mr. Coachman, Mme. (!ook and Mile. Chambermaid may have enj(;yed themselves in one another's society, but above the kitchen cabinet all was forlorn and for- saken. ■' Awfully slow, all thisi" said Miss Dane to herself, with a fi^arful yawn. "I'll die of stagnation if this sort of thing ki'cps on. !?il!itiana, howling in tho IMoated (u'ango, must have felt a gpiug about, like an old hen with tlie distemper, every time it was wet and nasty. If it iuivps on liko this 1 shall have a pretty time of it getting to THK INSKKN IiKIDKfJKOOM. Ion Fourteenth Street, at Uii u'doL-k to-iii;.'li(. Aii'l I'Jl ^:u!•(.■ly j/,0, if it woro in ruin cals, (\ovt'd huad.s and n|tliflc;l und).cnarf, thu Htagca rattled past in a ccasdosd htreitni, I'idl i.> ovcrllowin;,'. Tin.' rainy ni^dit wtis .s.-tlling doun, the t^toirii incrfasinj,' a.-i the dai knuss oanic on. Moljie survcycil all tiiid disconsolately enough. " [ don't mind a dnckinf:," kIic mnrmnred, plainlivily, " and 1 novi'r lake e.dd; but I don't want that man to see nie Jooknig like a drort'iied r;it. Oh, if it shonl 1 turn out to ho llni,di — dear, dear Ihijjih!'' Her faee lighltd rapturously at the tlvought. " r never kn«\\' hou' much J loved him until I h)6t him. If it inn't Hugh, and lliigh asks mo to run away with liijn to-morrow, I'll do it — 1 declare I will — and the others may go to grassl" At that momeni voices sounded on the stairs— the voices of Mrs. W'alravcn and her cousin. The (lrawing-r<;nm door was ajar, Mollie't^ liltio (ignre hid- den in the amber drapery of the windo'.v, and ^he could seo Ihem ])lainly, without, herself being seen. " "S'ou won't fail?" Mrs. Walraven said, impressively. " 1 will do my part. Are you Cjual to your.-?" " I never fail where 1 mean to succeed," answered Dr. (!uy, with c<|inil empiia.sis. " Sooner or later, I triimiphl 1 shall trium()h now! ' AH things are ])Os.-iiblo t>» him who knows how to wait.' I have waited, and this iiighc gives me my re- ward." The house door closed alter the young man. Mis. Wal- raven j)eei)ed into the drawing-room, nevtr seeing the slender figure amid tho voluminous golden damask, and then re- ascended the stairs. Mollie was again in silence and solituile. *' is'ow, what are those two up to, 1 should like to km>w?" solihwjuized tiie young hidy. " Some jjiece rf atrocious mis- chief, I'll bo bound! JIo h)oks hke the .Miltonic Luril'er sometimes, that num, only not one half so good-looking; but tht^re is a smikish, treacherous, cnid-blo-^led glare in his greenish-bla(;k eyi'S that mak(M me think of tlio ari'h-tempter; and some people have tho bad taste to ca!l him handsome." Tho twilight had ended iu darknefis by this time, .llollio Iu4 TliK UNSEEN BRIDEGUOOM. " 1 like put hor baud to hor bell to Hud hur wutoh, bit it was not tberft *' 1 haTo loft it on my dro~ in{j;-t!ibIo,'* bIio thi)ii. 'J'hu hunpaof the carria;:e shone upon him, bu^. Iho cloak collar was so turntHl up, the eloudud hut t^ii fiuiled down, such a f|uantity of dark beard between, thd, noiluiig was vis- ible of (i e face whatever. Moiiie pauseil, altogether oxbausted; the man advanced a step "ut of the shallow. ** White Mask?" he asked, in a cautious whisper. " iilaok Ma.-kl" responded Mollie, proniptlv. "All right, the speaking rajiidly, am 1' enl" rt'plicii tin- rnun, spei'king in French, and " h s inipi>ssiliK' to stand here in the rain talk. J have brought a carriage — let nie assi-tt you in." But MolIie shrutik back. Some namelesa thrill of terror suddenly made herdi "ad Iho man. " You must— you must!" cried tho man, in an impetuous whisper. '* Wo can not stand hero in this down-pour. ])on't you sec it is impossible? And tho iiist [xdieema!! who comes along will bo walking us oil to the slatio?i-hnuse." lie caught her arm and half led her to tho carriage. Sljrinking instinctively, ycit hardly knowing what to do, she foun I herself in it, and seated, before she (lui.e knew it. lie sprung after her, closed the door, tin.' carriage started at once at a great pace, and tho poor little lly was fairly caught in tho spider's web. " 1 don't like this," eaid Mollie, decisively. " I had no idi«i of entering a carriage when 1 appointed this meeting. Where are you taking me to?" '* There is no need to bo alarmed, pretty M. Hie," said the man, still speaking French. " I have given the coHchman orders to rattio along t'uough the streets. We cmi talk here at oui' leisure, and as long as wo plea>e. You mil, pi'rceivo the utter imi)08sibi|ity of conversation at a street coiuer and in a down-pour of rain." M')Ilie did, but she tidgetcd in hnr seat, ai'd fi It particularly uncomfortable, all the same. J«ow that it wa^ too late, she began to think she had acted unwieely in app duting this meeting. *' Why didn't 1 lot well enough alone?" thought tho young loa THE UNSKKN JIIIIDEGHOOM. laoy. " At a tiistanco, it pcemcd the easiY'st thing in the world; now tiuit 1 am in tlio man's })o\ver, 1 am afraid of him, movii so than 1 over was bofori'. '"' Tlu! man had taken hh seat beside her. At this juncturo ho put iii:^ arm around hor waist. '* Why can't we bo comfort^i^do and alTectionitio, n.s nnm and wife shoidd — eh, Moilie? You iloji't know how mueh obliged to yon 1 am for this intorvii'W. " Tiiero was a ring of triumph in \m tone that Moliie cnulsl not fail to perceive. Her In ;ir(, giive a great jump of terror, but she angrily llung liersidt' out of his arm. " Keep your dislaiicc, L-irl How dure you? You sing quite a new song since I saw vou lasLl Hon't you lav a linger on me, or VU—" " What, pretty Cricket?" wi'.li a sardonic laugh. Mollio caught her breath. That nsune, that tone — both wore altogether new in the unknown man. The somul of the voice, now that he spoke I'^reticji, was quite uulike that of the man sho had coiuu to meet. And iie was not wont to cull her Cricket. Had sho made some horrible mistake — been caught in somo dreadful traj)? ]'>ut, no; that was impossible. " Look here, M"r. ]\raHk," said Moilie, tiercely, " 1 don't want any of your familiarity, and I trust to your hotii'i- to w- spect my unprotected situation. I a})poinietl this meeting b ■•< cause you kej)t your word, and behaved with tolerable decency when we last parted. 1 want to end this mutter. I want to know who 3'ou are." " My precious ]Vr,)lIie, your husband!" " ])Ut who are you?" " One of your rejected suitors." " ])Ut which of them? — there were so many.** " The one who loved you best." " I'rihawl I don't want trillingi What is vour name?" "Krnest." " I never had a lover oi that name," said Moilie, decidedly. " You are only mocking me. Are you — are you — Hii/^h Ingelow?" Her voice shook a little. The man by her aide noted it, and burst into a dcjisive laugh. "Youii.ro not JFugh Jugelowl" Mollio cried in a voice of sharp, sudden puin — '* you ur(^ not!" " An{i you ;ire sorry, pretty Moilie? W hy, that's odil, tool He was a rcjec'ed lover, was he not?" "Lot me outi" exclaimed the girl, frantically — '* let me THE rXPKKN LlilDKOUOOM. 107 fo! I thouplifc you wore ITii^^li In^rpiow, or I never would have comol Let i)i(M)',it! J>(.'L uio nuti" 8ho uuido a ruiih iiL the door, with a shrill cry of a-'Tright. A Kiiddeii ])ani(! had t;eizi' tn) — we'll return to X'.Mv "^'orlc by and by. As for l[i!gii Ingelow, you )nus'tn't think of him now; it isn't proper in a respcetabie married wonuiii to know there is another man in tlie scheme of the universe cxccjtt hi r husbar.d. JVloliiel Moliiel if you h 'ream in that manner you'll compel me to resort to chloroform — u vulgar alternative, my dearest." I'»!it Mollie struggled like a mad tiling, and sereamed— wild, ghrill, wo)niinly shrieks that rang out even above the rattlo {Hid roll of the carriiigo' wIiblIs. The man, with an oath, pla<'ed his hand tightly over her mouth. They w^re going at a frightful jja'.e, and already the city, with its liglus and jiassengors, was left far behirul. 1'hey were Hying over a dark, wet road, anil the wind roared through distant trees, and the rain fidl dovn like a second deluge. " Let me go — let me go!" Moliie sirove maillv to cry, but the tightening grasp of that largn hand sii' .at.ed her. Tiio carriage seemed suddenly to reel, :i thousand lights ila-hi'd before her eyes, a roar liK'-' the roar of numy waters surged in her cars, a deathly siekness and coldness lirept over lier, anJ with a gas]»ing sob she slipped back, fainting away lor the first time in her life. CIIAPTEi; XV. Tlin; MAX IX TJIK MASK. Dizzii-Y Mollie opened hvv oyea. Confused, bewildered, she strove to sit up and eatili bet breath in broken gasps. "So sorry, Mnllie," said an odious voice in her ear. " ignite shocked, 1 am suie, to havo yo;i faint; but yon'vo not b :en insensible half ;mi hour. It wasn't my fault, \on know. You would scream, you would struggle, you would cxluuwl KiB THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. vouraelf ! And what is the consequence of all this excitement? Wliv, you pop over in a dead swoon." Moiiie raiscrj herself up, sLill dazed and confused. She put her hfind to her forehead and strove to recall her drifting senses. They were gtill howling along at a sharp pace over a muddy country road; stiil fell the ram; still howled the wind; stiil pilch darlcneas vvrappad all witliout. Wore ihey going on for- ever? VViis it a ri-alily or a horrible nif:hUuare? " We are ahiiost at our journey's end," said the man, soothingly. " (youio, cheer up. Cricket. I love you, aud I v/on't hurt a hair of your heail." " Where are we?" Mollie faintly asked. " lla^ttliug over a beastly eouutiy road," answered her com- panion, " under a sky a-; black as Erebus, and in a dowi>pour that tlneatens a second Hood. 'J'liere'a the sea. We're down * by the sad pca waves ' now, Moiiie." Mollio listened. Above the roar of the elemental strife she could hear the deep and mighty bass of the roaring sea. " We will be there in ten minutes more," said the man, brisklv. " Where is there?" inquired Mollie, in the same faint ac- cent. " Home, my pretty wife — our cottage by the ana, and all that, yon know. Don't droop, my charming Ciioket. We'll be as happy together as the days are long. I love you with all my soul — I swear it by all that's gowl and gracious; and I'll make you the best husband ever bright-eyiid little girl liad. Trust me, Mollie, and cheer up. Yoioks! Here we are." The carriage stopped with a jerk that precipitated Mollie into her captor's arms; but, with an angry push, she was free again diiet'Ll}'. Thi^ muji opened the door and sprung out. Wind howling, rain tuliing, trees surging, sea roaring, and a big dog barking, made the bliu'k night hidfous. " Djwti, Tigir! Down, ynn big, noisy brute!" cried the man. *' Here, ^rdlic, lot. me lu'lp you out." Thf're was no escape — Mollio k't him. The salt breath of the sra bit^w in In r face — ils awful thunder on the sIicb drowtu'd all less'M- noifitv'. Through the b!a ■kn(\ss of the blac^k night she could see the blacker onthne of a house, lr(itn one or two windovvo of wh'' h faint lights shone. Tossing i.e. i surrounded il — a high board fence and a tall, padlocked gate inclosed it. THE UNSEEN BRIDEGROOM. 109 " All right, Mollie," the man Euid. " Thia is home!" He drew h r arm v/ilLiii his and hurried her up o long, graveled pc h, uruhT dri[)pirig, foSiinjj tiees. The stoim ,i wii»d and n.in neu'ly buit the breatli out of the giil'd body, aud she waa glad when the ahtlter of a great front porch was gained. " I hope you're not very wcfc, my little \vift>," said iho man; " because I don't know as there ia a chiitigo of garnn lUc; in this establishment that will fit you. However, as you will re- tire directly, it dneyn't so much matter." lie knocked with his knuckles a thundering rev( ille that echoed and re-e(!hoed ghostily through the rumbling old houi-o. In a moment there was a shuflling of footsteps inside, a rattling of a chain, ami the noi.miin, jnnt a shade less stooping, and bleared, and wrinkled, who held a spnttering tallow candle aloft. " How are you, Pete.? How are you, Sally?" said Mollie's conductor, nodding familiarly to these two antedduvians. *' la the room ready? Here's the lady." lie drew Mollie, who«e arm he retaitjcd in a close grasp, a little closer to him, and MoUie nolicid tbiit, for some reason, tho ancient pair 8hrunk back, and hxiked as though they wore a little afraid of her. ** The room's all ready," said the old woman, with a pair of glittering little eyes lixcd, as if fa cinated, on Mollis'.s pretty face. "Tho miosis and me's be(>n a-tidying of it all day long. Poor creeterl so young and to pretty! What a pity!" 'Phis last was soffo voce, but Mollie's Cjuick ear caught it. bho looked up at hor conduct or, but cloak aud hat and whis- 110 XHE u>,«i:ujs ]ii:ii)i-;(ii;00M. kers (li;-,t,niiHCtl him iU' oHcci utilly i.s flic; inn^k liiid donv <^n other 0(.i;asions. Mh- looked iiuci^ iit l,h'.' ol I v.uiiiun arid IilM ont lior su]iplit'al.inji; IkukIh. '' yiy '^ood uouKui. \vho«vv(M* you iu'o, if yon hiivc i\ \\i,niiiu''ti lioart, tiiku pity on inc. 1 have been bioti<,dit here iigaiiist my will by this niiin." " Ah, poor creetcr!" si^^hed the old wuniau, tliakiiij; Ii.t grizzly old head; " arf if I didn't know that, i'oor lin!.' crecter!" " Help rnel" Millie cried. "Don't aid this man tokc(]i me liore. I don't kno'.v whrt he is— 1 h-ue been wickedly en- trapped. I am a liitlc l;u'[ik;-s girl, luit 1 have rirh and powerful friends who \vi;l liberally reward you. Don't lulji this bad, bold mati to ke' p me a prisuner here." " Ah, poor eieelirl" j^iglnd the old w. man, plaintively, a socor.d time; " only hear her talk now. And Btu.h a ]>retiv little thing, tiol ].)iii-\ dear! It gees to one '.-j hen rt. i)on't keep her t-taniliiig in tlictii wet elolhe.-:, f^ir. Ci^iio ujistair.s. 8iii'h a pity, siuh a pityl" She hobbkd auav, muttering to liersolf aiul sl;akiiig her head. The di-sguistd nmn laii^hcd — a losv, dcridiiig laugh. " You siiO, my dear litiie Mollie, you'll get any amount ( ' pity, but nothing (.dse. Old Sally will be very .sincerely k.miv for you, but she won't help you to eseafie. ()n tii;^ contrary she'll keep you under look and key us failhfully as ihciigh yot; were the K- h-i-noor. Cnmo in; you may take cold in this nasty, draughty passage." He drew her with him. ^rollie seemed in a sort of dreamy swoon, and sveut ]j.i-sivi;ly. Thev ascended the stairs into another dark and d.-aughly hall, l!r.iiki'd on cith(!r side by :i eou[)le of doors. One of these the old dame ojiened, and cjuiLo a Mew picture bui'st on Moliie's sight. '.riio apartment wa^ not at all like the mvsterious padded room of former exi)erience; the four bare walls were [dustercd and blankly bare; the baiih^d iioor was htrewn with rags; the two big scjuare windows were draped with ])aper blinds. A huge iiro of logs, such as Mollie had never beheld in her life before, roared gloriously in the old-fashioned iire-place, ai d lighted the room with a lurid glow. A f air-p'ist btdhtcad, the bed t;ovcred with a gaudy patch-work or eounterpani', Kto>d in one corner, a tabh^ with a while clolii stood in an- other, a chest of dreweiv in a thi d, and the door by whieh they <'nlered in the fourth. 'I'his was Mollie's new prison. " J'degj'.et simplicity,'' obsctvcd ;:jo man, Icaiing her in: " but wo will do our best to m»ko you eomfortablo during THE UNSEEN P.RTDEOROOr. IM your sfay. It need not be long — you knn\r it depondo on yourself. Mo] lie." "Oil my^self?"' She turned her pale fuce and angry eyes upon him. " 1 iini your husband by a (>ecrct marriage, you know. Let th'it niiirriai;*! bo solemnized over agfiin iti public — no ono nwed know of the other: consent to bo my wife openly aTtd above-board, and your prison doorrf will flv oiv.'U (hat hour.'' " In lleavi-n'ri name, who are you?" oried Mollie, im- patiently. " Knd this ridiculous farce — remove that di'-gnise — let me see who 1 am f^jieaking to. This melodramatic ab- surilitv has gone on long enough — tlie play is played out. Talk to me, face to face, like a man, if you darel" llor eyes bla/.ed. her voic.-e rose. Tiie old woman looked from one to the othtr, "far wilf*," but in evident eurio.'ity. The man had persisted in speaking to her in French, and Mol- lie Juid answered liim in that language. " lie it as you fay I" cried her captor, suddenly; " only re- member, ^.lollie, whether I am the person you prefer ''^ see utuier this di'^guise or ?iot, I am ip^v.-rthelc^'s your hn^;bilnd as fast as the lioverend liaymond Ka.-ideigh can tic the knot. You shall know wlio I am, since it is only a question of to- night or to-morrow at the m'>--t. Sally, you can go."' Sally looked from one to the other with :iharp, suspicious old eyes. " Won't the young lady want me, sir? Is she "ble to 'tend to herself?" " (Juito able, Sally; she'^j not ?o bad as you think. Go away, like a good soul. I have a soothing draught to admin- ''-•ter to my patient.' ' " Your pationtl" said Mollie, turning the Hashing light of her great blue eyes full uj)on liim. The man lau^lled. " 1 iuid to invent a little fable for these good people. Didn't you notice they looked rither afraid of you? Of course you did. Well, niv dear Mollij, thev think vou're mad." "Mad?" " Exactly, ^'ou are, a little, you know. Tlun' thiid< you've come here under medical orders t^ r.-iTuii by the sea-shore. I told them so. One hates to tell lies, ijut, unfortunately, white ones arc indispens.ible at times." The blue eyes shout! fidi upon him, blazing with nuigniiicont disdain. " ^'ou are a poorer creature than even I took you to be, and you have acted a mean and uast;irdly part from the first — the 112 THE UNSEEN BHIDECUOOM. part of a soliomor and a coward. Pray, let me see the faoe of cur nio.lcni Ivnitrlit of Roruiince. " 01 i Sally ha 1 linl)bli d from the room and Uiey stood alono, half the width of the aftartmcnt between tli(ni. " Hard words, my pretty onel You for[,'t.'t it was all for love of yoii. I didii'l want to see you the wife of an old do- tard vou tlidti't care a fillip for.*' " So, to mend m.itlers, you've made me the wife of a soonndrel. 1 must forever hale and despise — yourself." " jS'ot so, Moll II' I I mean you to be very fond of mo one of these davs, I dm\'t see why you shouldn't. I'm younj;; I'm well oil'; I'm clever; I'm not bad-lonkin^'. There's no reason why yon shoiildn't be very fond of m(% indeed. Love be<:jet3 love, they say, and I love yitu to madness." " So it appears. A lunatic asylum wouhl be the fitter place for you, if yon must escape state prison. Are we to stand here and bandy words all uight? Show me who you arc and go." The man laid his hand on his hat. " Have you no suspicions, Mollie? Can't you meet me half-way — can't y^a guess?" " 1 don't want to guess." She spoke defiantly; but her heart was going in great, suffo- cating plimges against her side, now that the supreme moment had come. " Then, Mollie, behold your husband!" With a th''atrical liourish he whipped off slouched hat, flow- ing beard and wig, d''opped the disguising cloak, and stood before her revealed — [)i: Guy Oleander! She gave one gasping cry, no more. She stood looking at I)im as if turning to stone, her face marble white — awfully rigid — her eyes starting from their sockets. The man's face wafj lighted with a sinister, triimiphant glow. " Look long, Mollie," ho said, exultantly, " and look well. You see your liut^band for the first time." And then Mollie caught her gasping breath at the taunt, and the blood rushed in a dark, red torrent of rage and shame to her fair face. " Kever!" slie cried, raising her arm aloft—" never, so help mo Heaven! 1 will L.t in this prison and starve to death! 1 will throw myself out of yonder window into the black, boiling Koa! I would bo torn to pieces by wild horses! I wdl die ten thousand dea'hs^, but I will never, never, never bo wife of yours, Guy Oleatider!" Her voice rose to a shriek — hysterical, frenzied. For the THE UNSEEN BRlDEfiROOM. 113 i)i3taut she felt as though she were going mad, and she looked it, and the man recoiled before her. " Mollie!" he gasped, in consternation. The girl stamped lier foot on the floor. " ])()u't call me Mollie;" she st'reamcd, passionatfly. " Don't dare to sptak to me, to look at me, to rnme near me! 1 have heard of women imirdi.'riiig men, aii'l if 1 lurl a loaded pistol this moment, (Jod help yon. Doctor Olearid' rl" She lookoil like a nnid thing — like a ciazed pvllioiu'ss. }{or wild, fair hair fell loOwse about her; her blue even blazed yteily flame; her face was crimson wiiii the intensity of her rage, aiid shame, and »le«pair, from forehead to rliin. " Gol" she (iried, fiercely, " vou snake, you coward, you felon, you abductor of feeble girN, you p ■! -inor! Yes, y(.u poison the very air 1 breathe! (io, or, by all that ' Im-Iv, I will spring at your throat and sirungle you wiih my bare hands!" " Good Heaven!" exclaimed the petrified dorfor, retreating precipitately, " what a little devil it i-;! Mollie, Mollie, for pity's sake — " Another furious stamp, a ppring like a wild cat toward him, and the aghast doctor was at the door. " There, there, there, Mollie! I'm going. By Jove! what a little fiend you are! I didn't think you would take it like this. 1 — (Jreat powers! Yes, I'm going!" lie flew out, closing the door with a bang. Then he opened it an inch and peeped in. " I'll come again to-morrow, Mollie. Try, for goodness' sake, to calm yourself in the meantime. Yes, yes, yes, I'm going!" For, with a shriek of madness, she made a spring at him, and the doiitor just mutnigod to slam the door and turn tiio key before her little, wiry hands were upon his throat. " Great Heaven!" Dr. Oleander cried to hims IT, pale and aghast, wiping the cold perspiration oil' his fact'; " wns ever such a mad creature born on the earth before? She looked like a little yellow-haired demon, glaring upon me with those blazing eyes. Little tiger-cat! I told them she was a raving lunatic, and, by George! she's going to prove me a prophet. It's enough to make a man's blood run cold." 114 TlfK L'NSEKN JHtlDEGUOOM. C'Ily\PTEi; XVI. il O L I, 1 K ' 8 J) IC S I' A I U . Dr. Oi.eaxdku desijondcnl the .stiiiirf, passed lhroiij,'h the lowtM'liall, and eiit'ercd th^ kitcthi'u — a bi^', square room, bleak and draiij^liiy, likt! all thu rout of tliu old, rickety place, but ligiitei.l bv il roarin*,' lire. Old Sally was bustling about over pots and stew-pans, get- ting ii-iip[i.'r; oM P.ti'r stooil at tlie labie peeling liotatooH. Iti an arm-chair b'ifore the lire sat anotlier old woman with sntikv-bla.'k eyes, hooked nose, and incipient black mustache. V was volulily narrating what liud transpired up- r, npun the entrance of her master. Oleander, nodding to the venerable |)ai'ty in the arm-chair. '" iSally's telling you Old Sa .stairs, and cut herself slnx "How are you, mother?" said i)r venerable [)ai'ty in the arm-chair about my patient, is she?" His mother's answer wa.i echoed. "Well, what now?" demanil*'il tlie doctor. " You look like a gliosti (Iraciuus me, Oiuyl" cried liis in consternation; "you're whiter than the table- a stifled scream, whicli 8ally molher, cloth." J)r. Oleander ground tuit an oath. " 1 dare sav J am. I've just had a scare from that littli blanch any man. 1 thought, in my spring u])on mn like a panther and have, too, by Jove, if 1 hadn't cleartil crazy imp that would soul, she wa-! going to choko me. She would out." " Lor' I" cried Sally, in consternation, " and I've just been a-telling iho ruissis how sweet, aMtl gentle, and innocent, and })rot.ty she looked. " " Innocent and gentle bo — iiangcdl" growled the doctor. " She's the oM Satan in ft lualo form. If you don't look out, Sally, siij'll throttle you to-morrow when you go in." Sally gave a little yelp of dismay. " Lor' a massy, Master Ouy! then I'll not go near her. 1 ain't a-going to be scared out of my senses by mad-women in my old agt.'. I won't go into her room a step to-morrow, Master Guy. If you wants to turn lionest j)0ople's houses into lunatic asylums, then get lunatic-keepers to see arter them. 1 sha'n't do it, and so i tell you." With which short and t !)arp ultimatum Sally began vigor- ously laying the cloth for i:uppor. Till: UXSEEX jntlDKGltOUM. IVi Sully Boforo Dr. Olcaniler couKl open lii.s m )iuU t'> fxpodtuluto, liis inoliitM' sli-nck in: " [ nvilly iloii't ihiiik it,'s safe to livo in (liu lif>uso wiUi such a vi(;K'iiL lnn;it,i", (!iiy. I wish you liail taken your crazy jialii'iifc else where." "Oil, it's all rifrht, mr-fliur. .She's only subject to thoso m)isy lilH at periodi -al tinns. On CL'rtnin occasi.inrt she ap- pear anil talks as sanelv »,s you or I. Sally can tell yon.'' " That I can," Puid hal'ly. " You'd oughttT hecrd lior, mi.s.sis, when she fust i anu! in, a-pl a'ling, you knon-, with iu'J to usriirft her, and not lit.'lp to keep her a prisoner here. 1 il(!- clare, it (jnitu went to n»y heart. And she hjoLed so liltio, nnd ao young, and so helpless', poor creatnrel" " '^'oii'ro siiio her room '(3 all safe and .secure, Sally — win- dows and all?" ■' Sire a3 sure, master. Jack the (iiant Iviller couldn't re- move them 'ere bars, " ■' l)e(!au-r your crazy patient and send her down. If th;- young la ly's friends are as •'•eallhy as you Hiiy, they will surelv let lier have a kee|)er." " They will let her have a dozen if necessary; that is not the fpiestion." " What, then?" " Have you aceemmonaticn for another in this old barn? Can y 'U put up with the trouble?" " We'll cimIi avor lo da so f.'i- veur piike. It is easier to put up with another persion iu the hou:.e than bo ut t'le beck uud 116 THE unki;i;n iu:n)i:(iKOOM. cull o( a hinalio oursolvos. Send ono from Xew York capable of liikin;:^ euro (^f your cruzy young lady, uud {Siilly and I will take caro of her." *' TliankH! And moaiitime?" '* Mtaiilinic, I will wail ii[)on her myself — if you will assure me she will iidL be violent.'" '' 1 think 1 can. She is only violent with mo, poor soul. She has got an idea into her weak, deranged little iiead that Blie io as sunt! as you or 1, and that I have carried h(.r otf by force and kei p hir prisoner here. tShe goes raving luad at sight of me. but with you she may probably be cool enough. Slie will ti'll you a pituous sfnry of how hhe luis bc3n entrapped and carried oil from h'^mts if you will listen to her. You had belter no' ; it only encourages her unfortunate delupion." Mrs. (Jiiander fehriigg'd h;'r broad f^houlders. She was an old woman of strong mind and iron resolution, and nothing in the way of heart lo Fpeak of. Jlcr accoiu])lished sou took aflor hiir in tlu'se a'lmirable (luulilies. " I have olh r ildi to Try than listening to the emjjty babble of a miiniai'. l\y ihe bye, what did you say her name was?" " Miss Dane,"' re^;})ond^■d the doi;tor, after a slight pause. lie knew he migiit as well tell the truth about it, or Mollit» herself would for him. " And she is a relative of Blanche's husband?" "A very near though unacknowledged relation. And now, mother mine, I'll take my supjier and turn in if you'll permit me. I've had a very long and fatiguing drive this Btormy night." He f-at down to the table and fell to work with an appetite. Old Sally waited upon him, and gazed at hia performance with admiring eyes. " Won't your young lady want something, Ciuy?" his mi'>ther asked, ptesenlly. " Let her fast a little," replied the doctor, coolly; " it will take some of I he unnecessary heat out of her blood. I'll fetch her her breakfast to-morrow." Mr.-'. Oleander upon this retired at once, and the do i.or, after smoking old Peter's pipe iu the chimney-corner, retaxd also. Then the old man hobbled upstairs to bed, and Sally, after raking out the lire, and seeing lo the secure fastening of doors and window-:, took up her tallow candle and wcni after him. Outside the door of the poor little captive she paused, listen- ing in a Bort of breathless awe. But no sound came forth-' tut; IKSFFN BRIDKHROOM. 117 i\w tumult of wind, ami sea, and rain liail (ho inky night ail to tilt m.solvcH. " Slio's a-ihcp, I reck'in," Paul oh\ Sullv, creeping; away, " Po'.r lit lie. |.ntty croittr:" lint M 'lliL' was nut ask' p. Vt'Iicn Iho dnnr ha] doffd after Dr. Olruinicr, Aw. hail dnpped on iho llooi like a j-toue, and lia 1 nuver slirre.l kIiici'. Shr> win iiol: in a fainK She -"nw the ruldy blaze of the fire, as thti toii/^MK.'s of llanio leaped liivo rod soiponts up the cliiin- )i('y; she luard the wil 1 howlincj of the niudit wind, l,ho cease- less da-h and fidl of the rain, the ind'MTihahle rf^ar of (he ra;,dng S'a; .she hoard (ho trees crnik arid tons and {.'foan; n\\o lieard tho ra(3 8(!iin'ipering overhead; she heard the dismal iHoanln;^ of th:- eld UmiAtj iiscdf roekinf: in th.- ,u:ale. 8lie saw, i-:he h'-aid, hut asi one who neither seec< nor hears; like one in a driiiri^ed, unnatural ttujior. Hiit^ citnl;! not thiidv; an irr.'n haiui seem' d t) have (lulchcd her heart, a dreadfid d'spair (o have taken pos.-'i 8'^i.)n of h; r. Shu had mule a hornhio, irre[)araldo mistake; she was holy and soul in the po.ver of 'ho man siie hatul most on carih. .She was his wii'el — she could ^'et no further tlian (hat. Tlie stormy niijjiit wt.re on; mi.liiij:ht came and the elo- mcntal uprcar was at its heiirht. Slill ^he lay there all in a hea[». sulUrir.g in a dulled, iniserahle way that was wovs^^ than slia>'i'e.-t jiaiii. She lay there sLunneu, overwiulmed, not caring if she ever rose again. And 8.) morning found her — when morinng Ifled a didl und leaden eye over the st;)rra\' s( a. It eamo giotiuiy and gray, rain falling still, wind whisjiering pitifidly, and a sky of lead frowning di)wn upon tho drenched, dank eaiih and tossing, angry ocean. All ill a heap, as she had fallen, Mollie lay, her head resting on a I'hair, her ^JOor golden ringlets tosst d in a wiM, disheveled vi:il, fast asleep. Pitifully, as sleep will come to tlio young, ho their troubles ever so heavy, sleep had sealed those beaming blue eye^. "not used to tears at ni'_dit instead of siumber. "' 'I'ears, .\r.">llio had shed none — the blow that had fallen had left her far beyond that. Nine o'clook struck; there was a tap at the prison door. l*r. ()lea!ider, thinking his pa ,\;n<,'s far: had lasted long tnougli, wai! coming with u bountif(d brei'.kfast. There was no repl\ to tlie tap. "M.dli'," (ho doctor called, gently, "it is I with your breakfast. I am coming in." 118 TTfF UXRFEX r.r.iDFonooM. Slill 110 rospoiisc. Ho turned the key iti tli-^ lock, opcnctl the «lo')f uml ontered. Wlmfc liL! had oxpoc'l(\1, Dr. OIc'IImUt did not know; ho was inn littlo tremor :ill