IN PREPARATION, .A. ZtsTIE-W ZEsT O ^V IE ID , BY THE AUTHOR OF THIS VOLUME, ENTITLED "BOSOM FOES." G. W. Car let on &* Co., Publishers, NEW YORK. THE TWO BARBARAS. GRACE MORTIMER, AUTHOR OF 'BOSOM FOES," "PAPER WALLS," ETC., ETC. Wilt them learn what lovo is worth ? Ah I She sits above, Sighing, " Weigh mo not with earth, Love's worth is love." JEAN INGELOW. NEW YORK: G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers. LONDON: S. LOW & CO. MDCCCLXXVI. COPYKIGHTED, 1876, BY G. W. CARLETON & CO. JOHN F. TROW & SON, PRINTERS AND STEREOTYPERS, 205-213 East i2t/i Street, NEW YORK. TO fltu . iHotfjtr : WHO GAVE ME ALL THE GEMS WHICH GLIMMER UPON THE MODEST WEB HEREIN UNROLLED BELIEF IN TRUE LOVE; RESPECT FOR STERLING WORTH WHEREVER FOUND; SYMPATHY WITH THE ERRING; AND ASSURANCE OF THEIR PARDON WHEN REPENTANT. New York, March, 1876. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE L Barry, the First Barbara. 9 II. Out in the Cold World 17 III. Barb, the Second Barbara 32 IV. Barry's Chosen Path 43 V. Another Mother-heart to be Crushed 59 VI. Fair Face, Foul Heart i 68 VII. Woman's Love versus Man's Passion 83 VIII. The Hands that Helped Barry on her Way 99 IX. The Hands that Would have Saved her 113 X. A Long Way on her Chosen Path 131 XI. The Hearts she Trampled by the Way 141 XII.-A Last Appeal 159 XIII. Little Barb whom Angels Loved 172 XIV. What Devils Did with Her 184 XV. A Princess of Earth and a Princess of Heaven 197 XVI. Barry's Revenge 215 XVII. Little Barb Bears the Brunt 229 XVIII. How Appearances were Head 238 XIX. For and Against 252 XX. God's White Page Smirched 273 XXI. Back from Death's Portal 286 XXII. The Crucible 296 XXIII. Gold Refined Love Sublimed 308 XXIV. " And He Arose, .and said. .Peace, be Still ! " 322 XXV. Repentance aud Expiation 331 XXVI. And So, Sweet Friends, Farewell 340 THE TWO BARBARAS. CHAPTER I. BARRY THE FIRST BARBARA. down the rugged mountain-path, her cheeks flaming, her hair streaming, her great red-brown eyes flashing! " 1 won't ! I won't ! I won't ! " screamed Barbara Pomerpy, and the barren mountain-peaks echoed back her iierce cry ; and the light wind caught it up and carried it across the deep, dark lake to the black row of pines and silver-leaved aspens ; and the pines stood transfixed, while the aspens shivered. A grand creature was this mountain maid ; boun- teous in outline, statuesque in limb ; her coloring superb ; her motions strong and graceful as those of any bounding deer. 1* 10 BARRY, THE FIRST BARBARA. What if her dress Avas calico, neither ruffled nor trailing? her rich, exuberant beauty would have made you forget her dress, had it been the gem-be- spangled, ermine-bordered robe of royalty. She sprang upon a rustic bridge which spanned a rivulet Above, the waters leaped in glancing cas- cades; here, under this rotten, vine-swathed arch, they stood still, resting them for the wild leap into the valley down there. She stood still also, looking about her vacantly. " What am I doing here ? " whispered Barbara Pomeroy, paling to the red, ripe lips. "Am I going mad ? Lord, have mercy ! How did I come here ? " She put her hands to her bare head ; the scorching sun beat full upon it ; she looked back at the wind- ing, precipitous path she had traversed, up, up the autumn-crimsoned hillside, to the sharp white gable of a solitary house, and a choking gasp escaped her. She went to the crazy rail and leaned far over it, till her long, black hair, and her reaching hand al- most touched its shining surface. "I'd rather die than marry Dr. Hugh Wayne now ! " she muttered between her clenched teeth. " Wedding clothes, bridesmaids, lover's kisses oh ! oh! why can't I fling myself down there? Why don't I ? I will, some day 1 " she hissed, her eyes gleaming. BARRY, THE FIRST BARBARA. 11 " Barry ! My dear Barry ! " exclaimed a shocked voice behind her. She started round face, neck, even to her firm, round, uncovered arms, assuming a burning glow. For he was that demi-god to country maidens a soft-torigued, gallant, idle city gentleman ; and he had passed a most amusing month up there among the lonely mountains, with this enchanting dryad to give him the homage which he felt was due to a man of his superior merits. " Harrison ! " faltered the girl, " where were you ? I didn't see you." " I rather agree with you there, my dear," smiled the keen man of pleasure, gloating his eyes upon her quivering, conscious face. "What a young Hecate you are! You tore down that deer-path like a veritable fury. Now, why would you rather die than marry the excellent doctor at this juncture?" She turned, abashed, from his smiling gaze, and leaned over the rail of the old bridge once more. He joined her, leaning there elbow to elbow, with his breath fanning the cheek of the girl, whose heart, erring as it was, as yet was unsullied as heart of cradled infant. " Won't answer, eh?" laughed he. "Yery good, you needn't trouble ; perhaps I can guess more truly than you would tell me. You want to throw your- 12 BARRY, THE FIRST BARBARA. eelf into this stream, and end all the marriage flutter and lover's kisses in the maddest, saddest grave this world can afford?" lie was serious enough now, 'and gravity sat well upon him. " Do yon see those pebbles at the bottom ? " The sun lighting up the shingle bed through the amber water revealed them gleaming with opalescent hues, rich deep blue, bril- liant green, gold and bronze colored, like fairy gems. ""Who notices those worthless stones as they lie there ? " asked he. " Their beauty is taken by the country dolts who are used to them as a matter of course. But let a cultivated eye catch a glimpse of their splendor; oh, then they are appreciated ! The proudest beauty-lover in New York would call them beautiful. So with you, Barry." He looked into her eyes with a luring smile, and she, blushing and bewitched, lowered her long lashes, trembling. " Yes, you are too lovely to be buried forever among the wilds of Thunder Peak," resumed he; "and your own heart revolts at the unnatural idea. Any drawing-room would be honored by the presence of such royal beauty. Then what have you to do in a country doctor's dingy parlor ? " A low sob escaped her instantly suppressed, how- ever as her cheek burned more brightly, and her eyes sparkled with anger. "And I've just heard that the wedding is to be BARRY, THE FIR'ST BARBARA. 13 a week sooner, because Hugh has to go to Albany on business," said she, wrathfully plucking the leaves off the old rail, and tearing them to pieces. " Why can't he see that I ain't in a hurry ? Why don't he ever suspect that I care no more for him than I do for this trash ? " and she sent a long honeysuckle spray spinning into the brook. " And you don't care one particle for him ? " queried her companion, beaming. " You know I don't ! " said she, flashing an arrow glance at him. " Because you are heartless, eh ? " whispered the gentleman. " No ! " said Barry, softly. "Why, then, why?" " I've tried to, and I can't." " Then you like some one better? " No answer to this. " Do you, Barry ? " Still no answer ; nothing but drooping head and burning cheeks. " Barry, I have guessed it long ago. You love me!" Ah, the passionate eloquence of the rich, bending face ! the slow swell of the sumptuous bosom : the yielding, yet half -reluctant attitude womanly-- modest ! 14: llll?7?r, THE FIRST BARBARA. " Yon do ! You do, my sweet girl ! " breathed the luring voice in her ear, while the soft hands, dia- mond bedecked, of the city gentleman seized the brown ones of the country maid, pressing them with practised eloquence. " If we had only met before this foolish engagement was made, how blest for both of us! But now " He drew her to his breast with a sigh. She looked up, shy, yet radiant as a goddess. " You love me, too, don't you, Harrison ? " mur- mured she. " As I shall never love again." She yielded yet more to his encircling arm. "Then don't be unhappy, for nobody on earth could be so cruel as to part two people who love each other like we do ! " cried she, with a burst of joy. " Hugh is a good fellow, and will give me up, I know, when we tell him just how it is ; and then mother oh, she couldn't cross me in anything. I'm the very apple of her eye ! " Harrison Fairleigh, eldest son of the ancient Vir- ginian family of that name, possessor of eighty thou- sand dollars a year, and ornament of Fifth Avenue and Harlem Road, stared at the girl in his arms in consternation, which gradually brightened into amusement. He indemnified himself for the momentary discorn- BABRY, THE FIRST BARBARA.^ 15 fort he had suffered, in robbing her pure lips of a kiss. " You witch, you almost make the thing seem pos- sible ! " exclaimed he. " How I envy those country clods of Thunder Peak ! For if I were one of them I might hope to marry you ; but now " "But now?" gasped Barry, opening her innocent eyes wide. The amusement in Fairleigh's glance sent a sud- den rush of flame through all her veins. She freed herself with one movement, and stood off, gazing at him wildly. " Harrison Fairleigh," panted she, " I don't seem to get at your meaning. "Will you put it in plainer words?" " Mercy on us, what a young tigress you are ! " ejaculated he, impatiently. "What should I mean but that, much as I love you, it's impossible for me to marry you." Her ashen pallor frightened him. He stopped, scarcely aware of what he had said. " And you've made me say I loved you ! " said Barry, in a choked voice. " You've tempted me on to show you all my heart ; you've dared to kiss me to put your arms round me me, a good man's prom- ised wife ! Oh, you villain ! " cried she, her voice rising to frantic fierceness. " You meant to deceive 16 & BARRY, THE FIRST BARBARA. an innocent girl, did you? I tell you, Harrison Fairleigh, if I knew how to do it, I'd murder you where you stand I would ! But wait ; God 1 !! never let you off with this. lie ain't so unfair as all that comes to. Look out you'll suffer yetj and as heaven's above, I'll do my best to be at the bottom of it ! " For a moment she stood menacing him with her clenched hand, scorching him up with her blazing eyes ; then she sprang off the bridge, and immedi- ately disappeared in the forest, leaving the gallant to pick up his fishing-gear and trudge homeward with a very grim visage. CHAPTER II. OUT IN THE COLD WORLD .ENSSELAER'S LANDING, on the Hudson, a pleasant sail from New York, was the scene of Dr. Hugh Wayne's labors. It was a bustling country townlet, possessing as yet but one or two manufactories, and nestling luxuriously in the lap of rich green meadows, under the shelter of the gloomy Thunder Peak. The zig-zag road between Rensselaer's Landing and the few settlers' houses, hidden up in the forest, had for the last two years almost daily witnessed the passing of Hugh Wayne to worship at the shrine of the mountain maid ; for he had wooed her long and patiently. He was a fine-looking fellow, over six feet in height, lithe, and firmly-built, with ruddy face and the frankest eye imaginable. He had graduated creditably at Yale, gone to Berlin for a year, and re- turned to his native place, Rensselaer's Landing, to buy the prettiest cottage in the village, beside his father's, and to walk into an excellent practice, with- was i en 18 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. out an/undue. delay. Such a big-hearted fellow he Such a -pretty, dainty home as he had! No iminbrance ; 'the kindest, prettiest woman in Eens- selaer. Jus sister, to keep house for him ; and patients from north, south, east, and west driving in to con- sult him. No wonder the belles of Eensselaer's Land- ing blushed their prettiest when Dr. Hugh Wayne rode by on his dashing little mare, Coquette. He let them blush, while he climbed up the stiff hill-side with beating heart to court a smile from beautiful Barbara Pomeroy. Now, Mrs. Pomeroy was that most indigent of ladies, a country minister's widow. Once she lived in that pretty parsonage in the heart of the village, surrounded with trim plots of flowers and furnished with the neatest of upholstery. But when good Arthur Pomeroy died she was forced to retire into veritable obscurity, hiding in the pine woods at the foot of Thunder Peak, in an old farm-house, with her crabbed step-brother, who, with his barns burst- ing, and his cattle browsing far -and near, grudged the widow's pittance, and gave her the "bitter bread of dependence to eat day by day. True, some there were who could recall the time when Arthur Pom- eroy came to their little village with his lovely young wife ; and these were fond of hinting at a pre-history more distinguished than usually falls to the lot of an OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 19 American citizen, at least as far as the young clergy- man was concerned. At all events, he was an Eng- lishman, but lately come from the Old World to seek free breathing space in the New, and though absorbed in his sacred duties, and satisfied with the love of his charming American wife, he seldom alluded to his previous life or family, the acute gossips had long suspected that the reverend Arthur was the younger son of some fine old house which all too probably had been mortally offended by his democratic marriage. However that might be, at his death his widow made no appeal to her husband's relatives, but, churl- ish as her step-brother was, appeared to pjefer to de- pend upon him to asking charity from those who perhaps had more right to bestow it, and here West, miserable old miser though he was, upheld her. They were right, too, and in the exercise of their stout 1 American independence, proved their claim to- a pride of spirit as deserved as any born of noble birth. Mrs. Pomeroy might or might not know her hus- band's antecedents. She never revealed them to her neighbors, nor even to her daughter, but people can have their impressions, you know, and so the ancient fable had its place in the public mind, and Barry was looked upon, therefore, with peculiar attention ; while the widow received much unspoken sympathy on ac- 20 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. count of the hard life she led with her only surviving relative. The truth was, Eichard West was a greedy, grasp- ing old miser, half-killing himself every summer by trying to do all the work of his farm himself rather than engage hands; and starving himself and his household the year round in order to keep down the expense and all this for what? For the miserable satisfaction of plunging his skinny hands into his bag of hoarded gold, and chuckling over the mere posses- sion of a metal which was in effect as useless as a bag of stones to him, or to any one else while he was alive. Perhaps he meant to leave it all to Barbara ? Noth- ing of the sort: he never thought of leaving it to any one. The idea of his ever having the misfortune to die at all seemed so unnatural that he never entertained it for a moment. Meantime, the minister's widow and her lovely daughter clung together, and were happy 'and thank- ful to have each other to cling to and a roof to shelter them. "Hugh must wait; I can't leave "you, mother," Barry would often say, as she briskly stepped about in the kitchen. For, be sure, she was the household drudge, or how else could she pay her board ? " It's all very nice for him to speak of your coming to live with us down in the village, but a wife can't be OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 21 everything to her mother, as an unmarried daughter can ; you'd have many a lonely hoar, I know." Yet Mrs. Fomeroy liked Hugh, and it would have pleased her to see her daughter married to him. ****** * "What makes you so wan, child?" asked Mrs. Pomeroy, that evening, when, the tea-dishes washed and set away in shining rows behind the glass-doors of the cupboard, the floor dusted white as snow, and the lamp lit on the big wooden table, Barry sat at her side, her lap full of white muslin frilling, which her fingers were bungling badly. Dr. Wayne sat opposite, pulling his tanned mustache and eyeing her with uneasy wonder. Nettie Wayne, his sister, and Lizzie Bright, his cousin, the prospective bridesmaids, w r ere plying their needles on the simple trousseau behind a mound of gauzes and glistening ribbons, merrily chattering as they worked ; and the master of the house, gaunt and hollow- chested, leaned back in his hard elbow- chair, with his cold feet in the ashes on the hearth, dozing and grunting. At her mother's query, Barry started, and called up a smile of surprise. " Nonsense, mother ! " exclaimed she, " am I pale, though ? Perhaps I got a sunstroke going out with- out a hat on to-day." 22 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. Dr. "Wayne gnawed his mustache still more un- easily. " What sent you off at that time, anyhow ? " asked he, trying to catch a glimpse of Barry's down- dropped eyes. " Yes, what on earth took you, Barry ? " the girls chimed in. " You whisked off and down hill as if a rattlesnake was after you." " Did I ? " said Barry, with a dreary little laugh. "I guess I was tired sewing, and wanted a race. Hugh, would you like to read something to us ? " Obedient Hugh went to the hanging bookshelf, and taking down a volume of poetry Mrs. Pome- roy's property insinuated himself into the chair by Barry, and opened at a love poem, of course. Dr. AVayne was an elegant reader, and he was pro- foundly in love ; judge, then, how he read this frag- ment from Heine : " It's only an old, old story, That there goes but little to make, Yet, to whomso it happens, His heart in two must break." " Don't," gasped Barry, rising hastily, and running from the room. Mrs. Pomeroy's sweet, venerable face looked round at Hugh in startled dismay. OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 23 " She's ill, I think," muttered the young doctor, hurrying out after her. He saw her leaning against the tumble-down gate- post of the little garden, which it had ever been her delight to cultivate leaning with her dear face hid- den in her hands, and the tears which dripped from between her fingers glancing in the effulgent moon- light. At the sound of his footsteps she dashed away her tears, and looked up, laughing. " Am I not foolish, Hugh ? " said she, with nervous gayety. "All this fuss just because I can't endure the thought that love that love must must break the heart that feels it ! " She burst into a wild fit of sobbing, and more pain- ful than all} she mingled her rending sobs with hys- terical laughter. Her lover caught her hands and held them firmly. For the moment the lover was forgotten in the doc- tor ; he thought she was ifl. " Let me take you back to the house, Barry," said he, tenderly. " By and by you must tell me what has upset you." She forced back her turbulent emotion she made a mighty effort and calmed herself. " Hugh, dear, I'm only tired," said she ; " nothing in the world is the matter else. Don't worry poor 24 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. mother " (her voice shook, she coughed, and hurried on) " with my megrims, and don't you worry either. 1 ain't worth it." He gazed wistfully into the white, averted face. " Do you know, Barry, I begin to think I rather startled you this morning, hurrying on the wed- ding ? " said he. She murmured something indistinctly, meaning, he thought, to reassure him. " You know, dear, I wouldn't do anything to trouble you," said Hugh, his deep tones trembling ; "I love you too well for that. Dear Barry, I love you so well, that if I thought you would not be happy with me, I'd give you back your freedom to-night." She stood motionless, pale as death, regarding him. " Hugh," said she, at length, in a low, hard voice, " doyou really love me 3 " " God knows I do," answered he, solemnly. " And yet you'd give me up ! " she cried, breath- lessly. " If it made you happier," faltered Hugh. " And you what about yonr happiness ? " " I'd bear the loss of it like a man, I hope." She stood before him a moment longer, looking at him with her great night-black eyes as if she had never really seen him before. Then she clasped his OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 25 arm with her two cold, shaking hands, and bent her face upon them, gasping : " Dear, true-hearted Hugh Wayne ! you deserve a better wife than I. Oh ! why were you ever so un- lucky as to care for me '( " "Hush! hush? Don't, Barry, my darling; you wring my heart when you speak so ! " he exclaimed, shocked and alarmed. " I'm bound to break it, Hugh ! " wept Barry, kiss- ing his hand in the wildest way. " Oh ! you good, dear Hugh ! if I ever grieve or wound you, will you try to forgive me, and to remember that I told you I wasn't good enough to be your wife ? And will you never forget that I told you to-night I love and honor you so much that I wish I wish I could die right here, with your good opinion of me unchanged '( " Her vehemence, her pallor, and the unwonted wildness of her words, completed his bewilderment. He could only stand there looking at her help- lessly. AVhat did Barry mean ? These \vere not the usual tender agitations of a bride-elect. Barry was not ill, she was in trouble. Good Heaven! was Barry re- gretting f " You are not yourself to-night, darling Barry," said Hugh, in a hushed voice, through which the beat- ing of his heart could be heard ; " something has 2 26 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. happened to worry you. Have I said or done any- thing ? " No, no ! " said she, shrinking. " Has anybody else ? " " Hugh, don't don't tease ! I told you I was tired to death, and nervous. There, I've spoken crossly to him ! " and she burst out sobbing again. He took her in his arms, and bent to comfort her with kisses. "What! "Was this his bride-elect drawing back patting 'up her shaking hands to ward him off cov- ^ring her convulsed face lest he should read it ? " Oh, Barry, Barry ! What have I done ? " burst from Hugh Wayne, with an exceeding bitter cry. " For forgive me ! " stammered she, " I scarcely know what I do or say. Come to-morrow morning, and and I'll let you know what worries me." Leaning for support on the vine-draped gate-post, the moonbeams falling full upon her pallid, disturbed countenance and tear-filled eyes, she stretched out her hand to her lover. " Good-by good-night, I mean," said she, huskily. " You've always been so good to me that it hurts me to wound you. No, dear no kiss to-night. Spare me ; I'm very weak." Grasping his hand tightly, she gave him a long, heart-broken, despairing look, then turning away OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 27 with a choking sob, she slowly crept to the cottage door between the dew-diamonded flowers. Once she stopped, glancing back, with her hand pressed to her heart, but at his impetuous spring forward, she waved him back, and went in. So then the young bridegroom that was to claim her in a week, rode down the leafy road with a heart as heavy as lead, and a mind as full of torturing fore- bodings as a mind might be. ******* " Mother ! mother ! " whispered a faint voice in the dark. Mrs. Pomeroy waked out of her first nap, and sat up affrighted. " Goodness, Barry, is it you ? " exclaimed she. " Hush ! " whispered Barry, " the girls will hear and be frightened. There's nothing the matter, only I can't sleep, and I thought I'd come and sit beside you for a minute or two. Lie down again, mother, it's cold." " Have you and Hugh been quarrelling ? " asked Mrs. Pomeroy, sweeping aside the curtain from the window beside her, that she might see her daughter by the last rays of the sinking moon. " No, indeed ! " laughed Barry, looking very beau- tiful and ghost-like in that magical light. " Mother, I wouldn't marry Hugh if I was not perfectly satis- 28 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. fied with him ; and you wouldn't want me to, would you?" " Certainly not ! " cried the mother. "No woman has a riijlit to take advantage of a man's love to fool him so cruelly as that! But you love Hugh, of course." " Too much to be in any danger of fooling him as you say ; if I married Hugh without thinking him the best man on earth, I would feel as if I was just selling myself for the sake of a home." "May you be as happy as you 'deserve, my dar- ling ! " said Mrs. Pomeroy, kissing her tenderly. " What, crying ! What's the meaning of this, Barry ? " "Did you never cry during the last few days before you were married? " answered Barry, with a dreary attempt at playfulness. "Ah, well, perhaps I did perhaps I did!" murmured Mrs. Pomeroy, "but it was for joy, Barry." "You were sorry to part from your mother, I know," said Barry, almost inaudibly. " I'm afraid I wasn't so sorry as I ought to have been," answered Mrs. Pomeroy, " and anyway, you're not going to part from your mother for very long. I'm coming to you soon." Barry suddenly stooped and took the frail old OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 29 woman in her arms, lifting her to her breast in an impetuous way. " Love me, love me always, mother," said she, trembling with suppressed feeling. " Whatever be- falls me, mother, never let me go out of the corner in your heart where you have kept me so long. And now good-night good-night ! " She kissed her once, twice, with a strange and solemn fervor, and laying her tenderly back upon her pillow stole from the bedroom. ! Barry ! " roared old West, as he stood in the red dawn at the foot of the stairs which led to the loft occupied by his niece. The kitchen fire was unlit, the milking-pails were still on the bench, not a soul was stirring in or out, and it was an hour past the usual time for Barry to be up and doing. What in the name of sense had got into the girl ? " Barry ! " roared the miser again, in a voice that shook the rafters. A smothered giggle came from the room where the bridesmaids lay, and the floor of Mrs. Pomeroy's bedroom creaked, advertising to her scowling bene- factor, that he had frightened her out of bed ; but no whisper came from the loft. " Blamed if the girl ain't turned deaf ! " mumbled 30 OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. the old man, mounting the crazy staircase, with limbs as creaking and sapless, and he knocked on the worm-eaten door, with knuckles as hard as iron, till the furious din brought Mrs. Pomeroy, deprecating and frightened, from her room, with the old wrapper thrown around her anyhow. " Oh, don't, Richard ! Barry must be sick, or she would have answered you long ago," said she ; " I'll go in and see." She went in, the miser standing outside to listen and muttering to himself ; the room was neat, the window was wide, everything was in its place, even to the jug of flowers on the mantel-piece ; but Barry was gone. " She's out to her work," said Mrs. Pomeroy, with some resentment. "Barry never oversleeps her- self." " She ain't gone to her work," said West, roughly. "Everything's lying around higgledy-piggledy, and the cows are starving in the pen yet. Gone to her work, forsooth ! If she ain't here she's gone into the woods to gather some of her rubbish. What's that letter I see lying on the bed ? " Mrs. Pomeroy picked up a little envelope, sealed. " .Mercy on us, it's for me ! " said she, quite bewil- dered ; " and I do believe yes, it is from Barry I What in the world " OUT IN THE COLD WORLD. 31 " Open it, and see ! " roared the churl. " There's some deviltry here, I'll bet." Mrs. Pomeroy obeyed, her venerable face, lined with many an anxious thought and constant care for Barry, assuming a blank look of dismay. This was her daughter's farewell : "Mother: I've gone away. I could not marry Hugh. I never loved him well enough to be his wife, and I couldn't stay to see his pain and yours ; and besides, mother dear, I'm best away while I feel what I do. Some day -I'll come back, creeping like some tired, wounded bird to its forsaken nest, but not till I've made another home for you and me in a new place. Forgive me, mother dear, for this shock, and leave me to myself just now. Don't fret, poor mother, but try to believe this has all happened for the best. With love forever and ever, I remain your own sorrowful BAEKY." The aged lady took all this in, her brain reeled, her heart sickened, and, with a piercing cry, she fell as if shot. CHAPTER III. BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. YEEY different scene from that of Thun- der Peak, with its sparkling streams, its forests, with the gorgeous colors of October, its solitary hush, and rose-perfumed zephyrs 1 It was now November, and a chilling rain was falling in sheets upon the muddy thoroughfares of busy New York; five o'clock on Saturday after- noon, and the matinee pouring out of the Grand Opera House. Throngs of ladies, old and young, shivering under their rich velvets and still more costly embroidered cloths, hurried across the steaming pavement to their carriages ; gentlemen, with trim mustaches and slender canes, rushed into the nearest oyster saloons ; the more republican of the throng filled the horse- cars, or surged off the avenue into the streets ; a very bustling scene indeed was that in front of the build ing. A few minutes afterwards, and the little crowd of BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. 33 dirty idlers, blase men, rakish lads, and elfishly sharp street Arabs, which hung about the stage entrance at the rear of the Opera House, began to be rewarded for their patient waiting by the appearance of the actors emerging by twos and threes from the guarded entrance, to their cabs the stars that is ; while the supernumeraries, lay figures, and ballet-dancers trudged afoot, in rusty waterproofs, under well-worn umbrellas, and so dispersed, hustled, and jostled by the very throng they had amused. Last of all these a young girl stepped into the street, drawing her thin woollen shawl around her with a shiver, as the cold rain met her full sweep. Poor little creature, as she stood there the object of as keen scrutiny as if she had been the principal actress herself, how helpless, defenceless, and young she looked ! On the stage, when girt with tarlatan clouds she spun behind the foot-lights on one toe, waving her well-powdered arms, and posin5 her well-padded figure in the so-called "poetry" of the dance, who could have imagined that, all the stage adjuncts laid aside, the airy, fairy figurante was only a slim, pale girl of seventeen ; narrow-shouldered, thin-armed, with no beauty to commend her but her sad misty- blue eyes, and her pale rings of flax-yellow hair? As she mingled in the passing throng, she heard a 34 BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. loud laugh echo from the opposite side of the street, and as she ran along, hoping by the swiftness of her passage to make up for the lack of an umbrella, she observed at the first corner, in front of a lager-beer saloon, a considerable crowd, all seeming to be so well entertained that they cared neither for the bit- ing wind nor for the soaking rain. She was running by, not much interested in the cause of their merriment, when a low cry a wo- man's cry reached her ear. The little ballet-dancer came to a dead halt, gazing across the street with eager interest, and by-and-by, through a gap in the jocund throng, she caught a glimpse of a woman's crouching form, which was being rudely hustled and knocked about by the merry mob. This was a com- mon enough spectacle ; why, then, did the city girl, inured to sights far worse than this, stand on the op- posite pavement as if chained to the spot, with her wide, innocent blue eyes filling and brimming over with tears ? She had caught a glimpse of the woman's face, flushed and weeping, as she raised it for a moment in supplication from her hands, and it was so young and beautiful that the ballet-dancer could not tear herself away and abandon this unfortunate on the brink of the al ; She looked up and down the street as if to call BARB, THE SECOND BAEBAEA. 35 for help, but she only saw the police hurrying from different quarters to disperse the mob. She gathered up her soaked rags and ran across the muddy street right into the middle of the laughing and half -tipsy wretches ; at the same moment a policeman pushed his way through them and seized the young girl by the arm. She uttered a scream ; it was answered by a shrill cry from the ballet-dancer : "Let her be, policeman let her be ! " she exclaimed. " Tell them to let me get to her ; she's my sister, and she's sick!" " Way, there ! -' said the policeman, waving apart the throng to let the wretched little figure join him. " Xow, my girl, she's no more sick than I am ; she's drunJe, that's what she is." The ballet-dancer threw her arms round her, forc- ing her to lean upon her. "She ain't f" said she, stoutly. "Look at her! She ain't one of them kind ! " At the touch of a woman's arms and the sound of a woman's voice, the young girl uncovered her face and looked down at her protectress for she was a head taller with dark, terrified eyes and a distress in her beautiful face that was pitiful to see. " I'm afraid I am drunk," stammered she. " I was looking for a place and I'm not used to the 36 BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. Btreets and I got so tired they gave me some wine to drink and I guess it went to my head for I never drank wine before." ' All this she nttered brokenly, evidently quite con- fused, but with such simple earnestness, backed by such a slirinking modesty, that it was impossible to doubt a syllable. " Poor dear ! poor dear ! " murmured the ballet- dancer. " What would have come over you if I hadn't seen you ? You won't take her to the station, policeman, will you? " " I guess not ! " said he, kindly. " Some folks are just idiots enough to give liquor to a tired girl, and then turn her out on the streets. You can help her home I, dare say, she ain't far gone. Here, clear out, will you? " he shouted to the gaping crowd, " and leave these girls go unmolested." He was obeyed, and so the little ballet-dancer went off with her prize. A queer pair truly ! No wonder if the impatient passengers, pushing along under capes and umbrellas, glanced sharply at them, wondering at the rich beauty of the " unfortunate," as they styled her in their minds, and the loving cave bestowed upon her by her wizened little protectress ! The helpless girl was well and neatly dressed ; her waterproof was just the thing for such weather, her BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. 37 hat was quiet and becoming, her hands were nicely gloved ; and- the cherry-colored bow at her throat was tied as daintily as any lady's daughter could have tied it. All the more piteous was it to see the tears stream- ing over her flushed, distressed face, her black hair half uncoiled on her shoulders, and her unsteady gait ! Further and further east the ballet-dancer guided her ; they soon had left the pleasant precincts of Broadway, Madison, and Lexington Avenues far be- hind, and were hurrying along the poverty-stricken, vice-haunted First Avenue. Not a word was spoken by either, until the ballet- dancer drew the rescued girl into a long, dark pas- sage in a tenement-house. Then she said : " I guess you ain't used to such poor doin's as I am, an' my crib ain't exactly a palace, 'specially when the old 'nn is in ; but she's out charring all day, so don't be frightened, my dear. Come right up, an' make the best of it." The young girl clung to her, sobbing: "Any place any place to hide in! Only don't go away from me ! " They climbed the rickety wooden staircase, flight by flight, and at every landing, as they passed the doors of the lodgers, the ballet-dancer whispered her companion urgently : 38 BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. "Cover your face, my dear, they're a bad lot here!" . And the lovely face of the stranger being concealed in a corner of her wet cloak, she would hurry her along as if Death strode behind them. At last, having ascended to the very top of the house, the ballet-dancer produced a key from her pocket, and opening a door, pulled her guest in and locked it again. Her first care was to take off the waterproof hat and gloves, and to lead her to a little narrow bed covered with a white dimity-quilt in a dark corner. " Lie down, dear heart, and sleep till I get ye a cup of tea," said she, busily arranging the tiny pil- lows. " Don't cry any more now, by-an'-by you'll wake up quite bright. You're safe here, and I won't stir from the room, so jest go to sleep peaceful." The young girl looked up with shining eyes, while a wonderful smile irradiated her whole countenance. " You are the first who has shown me human kind- ness -in this awful city ! " said she. " I might have died but for you ! " " Lucky for you I happened by when I did," said the ballet-dancer, cheerily; and then she bustled off to light the fire and prepare her frugal meal, every now and then stealing to the bedside to feast her eyes upon the beauty of her guest, who slept profoundly. BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. 39 " Oh, ain't she splendid ! " aspirated the little crea- ture, clasping her thin hands in ecstacy. " She's handsomer lyin' there without paint or pads, than Princess Exilda in her new diamond crown and satin court-dress. My! wouldn't she fill the house as the Grand Sultana ! " And having paid her the highest compliment her experience could suggest, the little figurante would steal back to her work, refreshed. In a very short time, however, the wooden table was set, its gray old boards nicely concealed by a pure white cloth, as coarse almost as sacking, but none the less carefully starched and ironed for that ; two or three cracked plates and old knives, three un- matched cups and saucers, a coarse loaf, and a scrap of butter, these furnished the board. The ballet-dancer gently awoke her guest, and led her to the table. "Now, begin at the beginning, and tell me your name," said she, when, having placed food before her, she sat down behind the broken-nosed teapot, with her chin in her thin hand, and her earnest blue eyes fastened upon the young girl, feebly illumined by the one guttering tallow-candle. The stranger threw back her splendid black hair, and passed her dark, shapely hands across her fore- head. She was quite herself now, and looked about 40 BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. her with a calm self-possession in singular contrast to her manner half an hour previously. " You have done me a kindness," replied she, fix- ing at last a grateful look upon the ballet-dancer. " I wish I could reward you, for you seem to be very poor ; but I am worse off than you are, for I have no home. My name? Yes, I'll tell you that, so that ever after you'll know who thinks of you gratefully. My name is Barbara Pomeroy." The ballet-dancer opened her deep eyes wider. " Barbara Pomeroy ! " echoed she. " You ain't fooling, are ye ? " " No," said Barry, astonished by. her astonishment. " Why should I ? What do you know of me ? Have you seen any advertisements " She stopped, turning pale with alarm. " I ain't heard anything about you," cried the ballet-dancer ; " but ain't it enough to make one stare to meet a stranger with one's own name? I am Barbara Pomeroy, too. Barb, they call me, for short." Barry eyed her with increasing alarm. " Who are you ? Where are you from ? " asked she, faintly. " I guess I don't know," said Barb, sadly. " I'm only a poor waif, kept by old Nan, the charwoman. I've begged with a basket ever since I could remem- BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. 41 her, till three years ago I was lucky enough to get a place at the Opera House as ballet-girl. Old Nan says she picked me up somewheres at Five Points when I was a tot in baby-clothes." Barry gradually calmed down as she listened to this brief autobiography ; and after a few mo- ments' thought, she said : " Dear Barb, you have had a sadder life than mine, yet I think you are a better and a happier girl to-day than I am. Listen. I had a pleasant home' in the beautiful country ; a dear mother who loved me, and plenty people to flatter and admire me. A good man fell in love with me, and I promised to marry him. I really meant to, you know, although I never cared, right down in my heart, for him ; but mother liked him, and I supposed it was all right. I would have been, too, I dare say, if I had never met the man who stole my love from Hugh, and then showed me how little he thought of it by telling me he could never marry a poor girl like me " Barry paused, her cheeks ghastly pale, her teeth set, and her eyes flashing furiously. Barb leaned across the rude tea equipage to pat her hand. " You gave him his answer, I'll bet ! " cried she, admiringly. "It's just the likes of you that can give 'em a lesson now and again." 42 BARB, THE SECOND BARBARA. " I did give him his answer ! " exclaimed Barry, with a bitter smile. " But I ain't done with him yet, Barb ; I \vas to have married Hugh three weeks ago : well, the very day the city gentleman affronted me that was a week before my wedding I ran away from home." "What for?" asked Barb, wonderingly. " To have my revenge on Harrison Fairleigh ! " said the young girl, fiercely. CHAPTER IT. BARRY'S CHOSEN PATH. ballet-dancer uttered an exclamation of dismay. " What do you mean to do ? " asked she. " Nothing wrong, I'm sure nothing that you wouldn't like to tell your mother ? " " Oh, keep quiet about my mother ! " said Barry, tears rushing to her eyes ; " I wouldn't have her know the deadly change in me for anything ! " " Seems to me, if I had got a mother, I'd just want to go right into her arms and tell her everything that troubled me," said Barb, wistfully ; " wouldn't it do me good ! " " This," said Barry, looking up with cold, hard face, " I must bear alone. It was my own fault that I fell in love with a gentleman who felt himself so far above me that he could only insult me when he offered his. If I'd known the world better I would not have been such a fool. It's my own fault that I feel so bitter hard about it now ; that instead of stay- ing quietly at home and deceiving an honest man, 44 BARRTS CHOSEN PATH. I've come, friendless and penniless, into this dreadful wicked city, upheld by the hope of meeting him again, and making him rue, to the day of his death, the wrong he would have done the simple country girl." " But how do you think you can do that ? " asked Barb, dubiously. "If years of hard work and self -improvement can make me a lady," said Barry, " I'm willing to toil my fingers to the bone, to live on a crust, and to see no- body, if only in the end I can meet him on his own level, with my beauty as dazzling as he used to tell me it was, and my manners as perfect as his mother's or sisters'. Then I'll make him give me the same worship I once gave him, and when he feels he can't live without me, as I felt about him, then I'll laugh at him, and trample on his love as he did on mine ! " " Oh ! " murmured Barb, with a shudder, shrinking back from the flaming eyes and clenched hands of her guest, u ain't it too dreadful to work hard for nothing but that 2 " " 'Nothing but that ! ' " reiterated Barry, passion- ately. " Oh, if I could see that day, I'd consent to die for it. I've gone through so much so much already," said she, more gently, " I think I can bear almost anything now. Parting with mother and Hugh was the worst, for I daren't give them any no- tion what I went away for, or where I \vas going, and BARRTS CHOSEN PATH. 45 I know that every day they hope to hear from me, and I daren't write lest they should trace me out by my letter, and make me go home, and all the while my heart is bursting to hear from them. When I left home I had a little money, and I took along one or two good new dresses ; but I thought sure I could get some sort of work right away, or I 'd never have dared to come with as little as I did. I tried to get into a store first, for I understand figures and would make a good saleswoman, but nobody would have me without references ; the same with dressmakers, until, my money having run out, I had to quit the boarding-house for a cheaper one, and to sell my clothes to pay a week's board in advance. Every day of that week I've been on my feet from morning till night looking for any sort of work that I could do. I'd be glad enough to get a servant's place, so as I could keep a roof over my head, but it's all the same wherever I go ; it's nothing but ' no, no.' I can't cook French dishes ; I've never been in service before ; I ain't got no character to show ; I'm too good-looking to be good ; that's the sort of talk I hear ; and to-night I must turn out of the only place I can call a home, and then Heaven only knows what's to become of me. The last place I went to I was so tired out and disappointed when they said they couldn't take me that I fell right down in the slop- 46 BAERTS CHOSEN PATH. ping-wet area in a swoon. Oh, if mother could have seen me, how she'd 'have cried! So then the lady bade them carry me into the kitchen, and made me drink the wine herself ; she meant it kindly, I know, but she didn't understand nor think how dreadful it would be if it was to go to my head in the street ; nor I didn't understand either, till I got out into the air, and everything seemed to be pitching about like the trees in a gale." For a few moments after Barry's recital was fin- ished the two sat silent, Barb keeping her eyes fixed upon Barry with painful interest. " What do they call you at home ? " said she, at length. "I mean what's the pet name that your mother always called yon ? " " Barry," said she, faintly. "Well, Barry," said the ballet-dancer, earnestly, " I'm a poor, ignorant thing myself, and I ain't had any one to love me and make rne grow up good like you had, but it seems like as you was going all wrong all wrong, on this track. Why don't you let the bad man go his way, an' you go yours, an' be a good and happy girl all your life ? " " Don't speak of it ! " said Barry, fiercely. " I live and breathe for nothing but revenge. " I'd kill my- fielf, I tell you I would, if I didn't hope to be even with him some day ! " BABRTS CHOSEN PATH. 47 " No, no ! " pleaded Barb ; " you wouldn't he let to do that. If your mother's a good woman her prayers would drag you back again." Barry turned to her, paling visibly. " How do you know all this ? You, a poor little bal- let-dancer, when I, a minister's daughter, don't ? " fal- tered she. "Dear heart, you do know it, on'y maybe you haven't been let to feel it yet. I knowed all about the dear Lord Jesus long before I let Him right deep down inter my heart, an' now it seems to me it's about the only thing I do know as clear as day. I ain't much on the readin' or writin' line, an' I know I'm blind ignorant, but I tell ye all the wisdom an' larnin' in the earth couldn't puzzle me on that p'int. I love Jesus an' He loves me, an' for His sake I'll live jest as good as I can. An' you must try to do the same, Barry, dear. Leave it all in His kind hands, an' I'll bet ye won't hev much trouble any more ! " " Oh, do try to feel about it as I do ! " exclaimed Barb, tears trembling in her great, hollow eyes. " You're far too innocent and too much thought of at home for to go astray like this." "Child," said Barry, turning away bitterly, " you don't know what a woman of spirit is when her pure love has been trampled upon. Say no more. You can't turn me from my purpose. Perhaps mother's 48 BARRY'S CHOSEN PATH. prayers will; but if they do, I hope I hope God will take vengeance in His own hands, and make Harrison Fairleigh far more miserable than ever I could." Barb had stolen round the table to her guest's side, and was about to lay her hand on her shoulder and continue her entreaties yet more urgently, when a heavy step became audible in the creaking passage without, and a heavy hand rapped boisterously on the door. " It's Kan," whispered Barb, shrinking back with a look of fear. " I didn't think it was so late, or I'd have got you a\vay before this. But don't you mind her, dear, and promise me you won't go, without I can go with you, for I'm blessed if I'll let you sleep in the streets alone to-night." " Barb, Barb ! What are you about ? " bawled a hoarse voice from the other side of the crazy panels. " Are you deaf or dumb, gal ? Let me in before I drop, you lazy hussy ! " Trembling visibly from head to foot, Barb un- locked the door, and was immediately seized by the slight shoulder and shaken so violently by a fright- fully stout woman, whose Cyclopean arms, bared to the elbow, and hard, wicked, slate-blue eyes, surrounded by a nest of wicked little wrinkles, were sufficient to strike Barry with consternation. BARRTS CHOSEN PATH. 49 " Laying around asleep, I suppose, eh ? " panted the woman, throwing the light form of the ballet- dancer from her with a violence that sent her half across the floor. " Now, then, who's this ? " She stood before Barry, her fat, purple hands resting on her hips, her little, satanic eyes peering at her as she cowered there, her face and figure indis- tinctly seen by the miserable light. " She's a friend of mine, Nan," said Barb. " She only came in for a minute ; she's going away with me when I go back to the house." " A friend o' yours ! Highty-tighty ! " cried the old woman, raising her voice and scanning the speaker over her nose with the most imperious scorn. " And what right have you to bring home friends to eat up my bread and butter and drink my tea? Ain't it enough that I keep yourself out of my hard earnings, you good-for-nothing young beggar? " Perhaps Barry Porneroy had heard such words herself too often to be daunted by them now, and perhaps the cruelty and oppression had taught her a perfect unity of feeling on this point, at least, with this, her humbler sister. Certain it is that, with a hound of her old grace and a flash of the old spirit, she took her place by Barb, and, putting her am. round her, said, proudly : " Woman, I shall allow no abuse of this girl for 50 BARRTS CHOSEN PATH. my sake. She has done me a service which I shall never forget, and as long as I live I mean to be her friend. ISTow, ma'am, what you have to say, say to me!" This address seemed to take the old woman's breath away; she stood for a full minute glaring speechlessly at the intruder ; then she bethought her of her spectacles, drew them from their worn case, and re-examined Barry from top to toe. At last she spoke in the mildest, blandest accents, a propitiatory smile hovering about her odious features, and a cringing courtesy prefacing her remarks : " I beg your pardon, miss miss, ain't it ? I see no marriage ring. I wouldn't have spoke so, not for the world, if I had seen you clear at fust. I thought you was one of them low street wagrants that Barb had picked up, for she's always a poking her nose into other folk's business, whenever their luck's down upon 'em, 'stead of cottoning to well-dressed, well-to- do folks like you, my dear, good, pretty young lady, with a face as sweet as a daisy. And won't you break some 'arts yet, is all I say ! " " Don't listen to her ; don't listen to her," whis- pered Barb, who was ghastly pale. " What's that ? " cried the woman, sharply. " You're very civil," said Barry, somewhat bewil- dered between the fervor of her address and the BAERT8 CHOSEN PATH. 51 vehemence of Barb's adjuration ; " but perhaps your civility won't outlive the honest truth. Barb, here, is rich to what I am, for she has work to do that pays her, while I have neither work nor one cent in my pocket. Now, ma'am, I'll go; I have no idea of sponging on you." The old wretch drew close to the beautiful girl as these words poured from her, and with a grin of sur- passing oiliness upon her evil mask of a face, she answered, sweetly : " Dear young creetur, you mistakes Nan Devlin. There ain't a more f eelin' heart in Noo York than hers. You're welcome to your bed an' board here till I finds ye a nice, snug home I knows on " "Take care!" shrieked the little ballet-dancer, pulling Barry violently out of reach of Nan's great purple hand, and intercepting her own tiny figure. " Take care, ye wicked woman ! Say one word to soil this innocent lady's ears or heart, an' an' I'll run away from ye an' let ye starve, I will ! " The giantess glared down upon the poor little, panting, trembling, bright-eyed coryphe'e, and a de- moniac flash broke from her half-closed lid?. " It ain't worth while to tackle ye now, you pre- cious limb," said she, actually gnashing her teeth, " cos you wouldn't be fit fur your night's work ; but ou'y wait till you come home on'y wait, I say, an' 52 BARRTS CHOSEN PATH. I'll sarvc ye out handsome for this; so's you'll dance for a fortnight to come as if the devil switched ye up to it ! Now you be off, an' this young lady and me'll soon come to terms." Barb, pale as death, pulled Barry with her to the peg where she had hung their wraps. "Barry," whispered she, "ye don't know what danger I've took ye into. Forgive me, dear! An' mind, ye must stick by me close as wax, or or ye'd best kill yerself to oncet ! " " Wha-at 1 Eh ? eh ? " cried the old woman's dis- cordant voice, as she strode between them and the door with arms akimbo, and a ferocious grin upon her swollen lips. " Young miss, come away from that viper; she's telling ye lies !" Struck to the heart with a nameless fear, Barry gazed from one to the other, and silently took down her waterproof and hat to put them on. " No, no, ye don't leave this to-night, my love," said Xan, advancing upon them. " I has views for you which I asks your company for to hear, an' takes no denial." Barb sprang forward a fine bound it was such as only the flexible limbs of a practised danseuse could make, and landing full on old Nan's capacious chest, she felled her to the floor. " Run now!" screamed she to Barry, opening the door. BARRTS CHOSEN PATH. 53 Iland-in-hand they flew into the black and loath- some passage, and down the treacherous stairway, but had not reached the next landing when old Nan's voice, hoarse with rage, was heard shouting: " Tim ! Tim, I say ! stop them gals ! Tim Poi- son ! stop them gals ! " Barb drew Barry on only the faster. " If he tries to stop us, don't give in ! " was all she said, but her eyes glinted in the dark like live coals. They flew down another flight, but now the coarse voice of a man yelled a response to old Nan's vocif- erations ; doors high and low flew open, letting out streams of sickly light, and men and women of terri- ble aspect, wickedness, poverty and filth striving for the mastery in their appearance. " Stop them gals ! " rang through the house, and was taken up by a babel of voices ; but still the girls flew down, winged with fear, and pushing their way through the fast-filling stairways and passages, burst at last through a knot of idlers arrested on the pave- ment by the boisterous sounds in the old tenement- house, and so darting across the street and mingling among the rough passengers on the opposite pave- ment, they escaped. Barb drew Barry into the first street, which seemed quite dark and solitary after the roar and glare of the avenue, and hurrying her along, they soon left 54: BAERTS CHOSEN PATH. that quarter of the city behind them. Then they stopped in a quiet place, and Barb began to fetch her breath and to explain matters. " Maybe you don't understand what all this fluster was about, Miss Barry," said she, looking up into the face of the beautiful woman with sorrowful eyes. Barry returned her look, horror and bewilderment in her glance. " No, you don't ; I see you don't, dear soul," re- sumed Barb. " Oh, I wish I didn't either ! You needn't shrink away from me, Miss Barry, though," she added, straightening herself proudly. u I'm only a baljet-dancer, and maybe you thinks there's noth- ing so low as that ; but it's miles and miles above what old Nan would have had me be if I would, which I never did, miss, God he knows, nor wouldn't ' if she had beat me to death ! " Barry drew her to her breast with a sudden revul- sion of feeling. " I believe you, you poor dear little soul," said she. " You're a good girl, a brave girl ! But what did the woman want with me ? " Barb clung to her with trembling hands. " I daren't tell you," whispered she. " Don't ask me again. Only if she could have kept you, it would have been no sin for you to take a knife off the table and kill yourself with it!" BARRY'S CHOSEN PATH. 55 A long shudder shook Barry Pomeroy from head to foot, for a moment her very heart stood still. " Oh, mother ! oh, Hugh ! " she moaned in horror. " Barry," said Barb, tenderly, " go back to 'em, do! Twice to-day you've been saved by a miracle; oh, be warned in time, and go back to them as loves you true as gold." " Wait a moment," said Barry, faintly ; " let me think over it again." Barb busied herself in adjusting Barry's and her own disordered dresses. " You can't go back to that woman after this ? " asked Barry by and by. " Oh, yes, I must," replied Barb. " I've nowheres else to go ; but never mind me. Have you made up your mind, dear ? " " ISTo," said Barry, weeping. " My heart fails me for the first time." " Be quick then, deary love ! " said Barb, leading her on again. " We'll soon be at the theatre now, and in twenty minutes I must go on. Before we get's there, I want to have your consent that you'll go back to 'em in the morning, and than I'll know what I must do for you to-night/' " Let me think," said Barry. They walked on in silence while the angels of Good and Evil fought in the young girl's breast for 56 BARRY'S CHOSEN PATH. mastery, and the fagged dancer thought dismally of the brutalities in store for her. When they came to the back street and the stage entrance, Barry said, tremulously: " I haven't decided yet ; I can't decide. He broke my heart. Am I to have no satisfaction ? " Barb took her hand between her own two cold, slim ones, saying, with a strange rich gush of music in her voice : . is perhaps a week afterward, and on a bright winter afternoon, Barry is seated with her friend Barb in the beautiful room which has been assigned her as her boudoir. If Barry has improved so has Barb. She is fair and meek as the Grecian Slave, to which she bears no small resemblance. Her misty bine eyes are inno- cent as ever, her smile as tender, and her speech as simple ; but she is no longer rough, ragged, or for- lorn ; she is as comely as a sweet wild rose, and just as single-hearted. In her neatly-fitting winter dress, adorned with a simple knot of azure at the throat, she presents by no means an incongruous appearance in that dainty chamber, even though her friend's robes are of the richest purple velvet, and her jewelry worth a year's income of the busy little needlewoman. At present a perfect aurora of smiles are chasing each other over her attentive face, while Barry, with 84 WOMAN 1 S LOVE VERSUS MAJFS PASSION. the soft lustre restored to her eyes, and womanly blushes on her cheeks, speaks softly and tenderly of Harrison Fairleigh ! " He is sorry, very sorry, indeed, for what he did," she is saying. "He could not treat me with more respect if I was the greatest lady in the land. lie is kind, too ; oh, so kind ! He could not give me so much pleasure if he did not love me, could he, Barb?" " No, of course he couldn't, dear," cried innocent Barb, surveying Barry with beaming admiration. "How could he help loving you, now that you are a lady in his own station, respected and loved by his mother ? Oh, I hoped it would turn this way all the time, Barry ! I knew it would ! He'll ask you to marry him in right-down earnest now ; and won't you won't you be happy ! " " Oh, hush ! " whispered Barry, trembling with soft rapture. " Perhaps he will ; but, oh ! perhaps he won't and then " " Nonsense ! " flouted Barb. " Of course he will, if he has really repented of the wrong he sought to do you. Now, Barry, dear Barry, do write your mother," added Barb, timidly, for this was a forbid- den subject. Large tears gushed from Barry's eyes, a tender smile quivered on her lips. WOMAN'S LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION. 85 " Dear mother ! " breathed she. " Yes, I'll write to her the very hour I've promised to be Harrison's wife. I'll set her poor heart at rest at last oh, I've been a bad daughter I don't deserve God's blessing now ! Hugh Wayne, too ; good, constant Hugh, he'll be glad to hear that his cruel bride-elect is not dead or gone to destruction. He was always so un- selfish always so unselfish. The night I ran away he offered to give me up if it would make me happier, and I didn't dare to tell him that he must, Barb, dear. I don't deserve this happiness, I don't, indeed." "But you're grateful for it, aren't you?" said Barb, wistfully. " And even if it didn't come, you'd never be as hard and vindictive as you were, would you?" " Even if it didn't come ! " echoed Barry, in a faint, low voice. " Oh, don't say that, my dear ! It must come, for if it doesn't I sha'n't be able to bear it. If he deceives me now it would be worse than the first time far worse ; for he has told me over and over again that I was the one woman in the world for him, that I was formed to make him angel or devil, and that we must never part. No, he dares not deceive me a second time. Oh, no ! oh, no ! " She laughed a little wildly, then putting a check on herself, took Barb in her arms, and kissed her in a burst of proud humility. 86 WOMAN'S LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION. " You are so much better and nobler than I, my darling girl," said she, " that you can't begin to im- agine the terrible thoughts that sometimes crowd into my mind like imps from Satan. How can you love me so much, you pure child ? " Barb was about to answer, when a tap at the door interrupted her. " Ah ! he is here," said Barry, turning from her friend with radiant face. " This afternoon will de- cide all ; I know it will. I feel a strange, mystic excitation at my heart here that never carne to me before. Kiss me, Barb kiss me, dear ! There, thank you. If I return a happy woman, I vow to live a good one ; but, if not if not O God ! have mercy upon me ! " The last shuddering sigh was still on her lips when Mrs. Fairleigh entered. Harrison Fairleigh being a gentleman of indepen- dent means, chose rather to live in a fashionable hotel than in his mother's house ; but he and his friend Roscoe, who had put up at the Fiftli Avenue Hotel, spent many hours each day walking, driving, or chat- ting by the glowing hearth with Mrs. Fairleigh and her adopted daughter. And there had been other interviews, not so public, when Harrison and Masali lingered together in the library, or walked by them- selves in some quiet up-towii quarter, when words WOMAN'S LOVE VERSUS MAWS PASSION. 87 were spoken and looks were exchanged that surely were sacred to the expression of but one passion on earth. Mrs. Fairleigh had not been unobservant, and it was a part of Barry's boundless gratification that she had looked on with evident pleasure, being just unworldly enough to prefer for her son one whom she believed would make him a good wife, to the most illustrious belle whom fashionable society could offer. Harrison had invited Barry out driving in his ele- gant new equipage, and Mrs. Fairleigh, hearing, had given her consent to the arrangement with a smile of peculiar approbation. " Are you ready, dear ? " said she, scanning Barry's well-chosen toilet with careful eye. " Harrison is to drive you himself, and he and his horses are impatient to be off." " Yes, yes, thank you, Mrs. Fairleigh. Help me, Barb," murmured Barry, in a soft nutter ; and Mrs. Fairleigh, taking a seat by the window, where she could command a view of the departure, watched with radiant interest the sweet, fair-haired girl as, with skilful fingers, she threw round the shoulders of her more beauteous friend her purple velvet carriage- cloak, lined and trimmed with ermine, and placed on her glossy black hair her ermine trimmed hat. 88 WOMAN* 8 LOVE VERSUS MAWS PASSION. A few moments longer, and Harrison's mother and Barry's friend watched from the same window the regal beauty step into Harrison's glittering carriage, her cheeks blushing with richer bloom, and her soft smile answering his eager greeting. Then they dashed off, and the rich lady drew the little sewing-girl close to her side, and began to chat with her as she loved to do : for when these two talked together, they spoke on a theme which placed them on the same level, daughters of the same Prince, as- pirants for the same crown. As Harrison and Barry drove out to Central Park to join the gay stream of equipages there, a slight constraint seemed slowly to gather like a cloud over his gay spirits. Barry noted, and her heart fluttered with rising excitement. She took refuge in her most brilliant mood to hide her breathless anticipation of what was coming. Never in his life had Harrison sat beside a more fascinating woman. The cloud darkened on his brow ; he glanced at her once or twice strangely, then lashed his horses into flying speed, only to rein them up again with savage strength. They joined the fur-filled turnouts of the New York aristocracy; they passed many a radiantly beautiful woman, many a magnificently handsome WOMAITS LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION, 89 man ; then glancing at eacli other, their passion-filled eyes said : u None so beautiful ; none so fascinating as you !" They chose anon a quieter drive, where few met them, and the naked trees arched overhead their twigs, all cased in ice, a glistening tracery of most minute and exquisite delicacy against the deep blue sky. Here the jet-black horses walking along the frosty road, Harrison took the reins in one strong hand, and, placing the other on Barry's wrist for her hands were nestling in her costly muff he barst out fiercely : ;< Barry, I'm the most miserable man on earth ? I'm a fool, an idiot! Oh, I wish I had ne-ver been born ! " An encouraging preface to a declaration was it not? She gazed at him perplexed, yet smiling ; conven- tion had taught her to keep her countenance ; yet the sight of these gloomy eyes and whitening, compressed lips sent a chill to her heart. " I thought you seemed .quite satisfied with your lot in life," said she. " What do you lack to make your happiness complete?" " I want you? said he, " and and you've denied me!" Her heart stood still. It had come 1 90 WOMAJP8 LOVE VERSUS MAWS PASSION. " I have denied you," said she, a heart-beat in every faltering tone ; " but that is all forgotten for- given." Harrison seized both her hands, crushing them in such a tierce grasp that her diamonds pierced her tender flesh like pins. She scarcely felt the pain ; she drooped toward him, a beautiful woman, her love in her eyes. " I said I couldn't marry you then," muttered he, with an angry oath. " Conceited ass that I was ! I might have seen in you the material for the glorious creature you are now ! " " Forgiven, Harrison ! Believe me, all forgiven ! " whispered Barry. " And you love me as well as you did ? Yes, you do, better, far better than you did ! " exclaimed Harrison, with burning earnestness ; " for your mind is expanded, you are mistress of the whole range of the emotions. They are at your command, and, too, you are at theirs. Your capacity for loving has grown with your power to inspire love ; you are Love's queen, but also his slave ! Oh ! Barry, Barry ! Why didn't you beg me to marry you a year ago, and shame me into it, or when you failed bury yourself where I could never behold your tempting loveliness again \ Perhaps I could not have withstood you. You love me, don't you, Barry ? " WOMAN 8 LOVE VERSUS MAWS PASSION. 91 Perhaps it was a whisper of woman's dignity ; per- haps it was the sight of his haggard, anxious face, that held her dumb. This time she did not answer that question. She shrank back from him, trying to release her hands. " You won't say ? "Well, it would be poor consola- tion if you did," remarked he, bitterly. " I know you do, and I love you better than any woman in the world, and I would marry you, oh, proudly, gladly, if I were not engaged to marry another ! " Barry sat dumb-smitten, gazing at him like one risen from the dead. " Don't don't look at me that way, my poor darling ! " faltered he miserable tears coming to his eyes. u I should have told you at first, and saved you this, but, as usual, I was a selfish beast, and thought only of basking in your wonderful new charms." Barry opened her lips to speak, but they were dry and rigid ; she could not utter a syllable. " I thought when I saw you first," continued he, " that you had schemed to get into my mother's house in my absence, to meet me on my return home with the bitter revenge of telling my mother what I was, and I begged you to stay in the hope of conciliating you, but now now, I adore, I worship you, Barry, you are the one woman in the wide earth for me, and I've PROMISED TO MARRY KATilERINE IlEXDRICK ! " 92 WOMAN 1 '8 LOVE VERSUS MAWS PASSION. She made shift to speak this time, but in a voice sc strangely unlike her own, that he stalled in horror as these hollow tones fell upon his ear : u "When are you to be married ? " " In a month. For mercy's sake, don't talk about it ! " " Who is she ? " next asked Barry. " You've heard of Baron Hendrick, the millionaire ? His daughter. I met her in Paris, passing the winter with her relatives, the Roscoes. Oh, she's a beauty and a belle, I tell you ! " But I wouldn't give her whole delicately nurtured, diamond-bedizened body for your little finger, if you were a beggar in the streets, Barry Pomeroy." Barry's eyes flashed. " You are sure of my love ; you are suue of your own ?" said she ; " why don't you tell Catherine Hen- drick the truth, and marry me ?" His clasp relaxed. It was his turn to shrink back with a scowling and disconcerted air. " What a question ! " exclaimed he. " I do think a woman the most unreasoning creature on the face of the earth. Here is this lady, a splendid match ; everybody dying for her ; the favorite toast in the highest circles of Paris, London, and New York ; and here's yon, a nobody ; picked up out of the streets by my poor Quixotic mother with but one endow- ment a sort of demon's fascination that, Circe like, WOMAN'S LOVE VERSUS MA3TS PASSION. 93 turns men who drink of it into swine, satisfied with nothing else. "Why don't I drop her? you ask, to the scandal of the social world, and court its ridicule and derision by marrying you ! I can't tell Katherine Hendrick the truth I won't ! " " And what, may I ask, was your purpose in speak- ing to me this afternoon ? " said Barry, a scarlet spot burning in the middle of each white cheek. " What's the use of my telling you ? " said he, harshly. "Like all your sex you are incapable of disinterested love. You'd be right glad to be a rich man's wife, doubtless ! Bat you wouldn't for love of him give up a few wretched conventionalities." " Stop ! " shrieked Barry. " My God, this is the second time ! " That tingling cry sent the pacing horses bounding forward, and off like the wind, the reins on the ground at their heels, but Harrison scarcely noticed them, for with her words, Barry Pomeroy had hurled herself from the carriage, and now stood alone in the middle of the leafless* a venue, gazing with set -face after her insulter, an he leaned over the back of the carriage with arms stretched forth to her ! ******* No wonder the people stared after that hurrying figure as it sped through the gathering night, trailing ks sumptuous skirts in the frozen street, covering its 94 WOMA3P8 LOVE VERSUS MAWS PASSION, bent face with a handkerchief of costly lace ! A vel- vet-robed lady, with jewels worth thousands of dollars twinkling in her ears and at her throat, flitting alone through the lonely wilderness of un- occupied lots which surround Central Park. It was Barbara Pomeroy, the Barry of Thunder Peak, two hours after Harrison Fairleigh had for the second time blasted her ears with his accursed love. Where had she been all that time ; and whither was she flying now ? Ah, the despair-filled heart recks little where the swift feet bear it, only bidding them fly ! fly ! and leave its agony behind ! Round and round those in- terminable walks had she strayed, unconscious of the passing time ; and her frenzied thoughts had by this gradually shaped themselves toward one fell pur- pose. Cruelly, cruelly wronged she had been, had she not, oh, sisters? Who that has lavished the purest, the noblest, the most generous love of her nature upon man at his fervent entreaty, would not deem herself debased for- ever, cheated, fit for life no longer, when with words like Harrison Fairleigh's upon his shameless lips, he showed her that her god whom she worshipped was but a loathsome demon, tempting her to depths of unutterable infamy ? WOMAN'S LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION. 95 After this, either revenge or death ! , Barry thought no longer of revenge. Ah, no! Her heart had died within her ; revenge needs life, fierce vitality, to nurture it ! As she had sat exhausted upon a bench near one of the park entrances, a policeman had come to her, say- ing, respectfully enough, but significantly : " Madame, shall I get you a carriage ? " She had roused herself then, to observe that it was nearly seven o'clock, and that the park was deserted and night deepening. "Thanks!" said she, in a quiet, dull way. "I shall walk." She passed out, crossed Eighth Avenue, and, taking Seventieth Street, rapidly disappeared. " Looks badly," muttered the policeman, taking up his march again. " She was as white as a ghost ! " She looked all along the quiet streets every door shut no shelter for her ! She looked up to the cold, violet sky the doors of heaven were like the doors of earth locked against her ! She muffled her stricken face, and ran down toward the river. As its chill breath came up to meet her, and she felt it on her burning brow, she uttered an inarticu- late cry. Rest lay in its cold bosom ah, how near ! She quickened her steps. 96 WOMAN'S LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION. At that moment Something laid hold of her skirts and dragged her back. She stopped and looked round. Not a soul visible nothing ! " Feverish delusions ! " muttered she, and sprang on again. The strong smell of tar came to her nostrils, with the noisome odors of shipping and river mud ; she saw the masts and ruddy lights about the margin, and caught the smooth glisten of the water beyond. "I wonder if he is dead, and if I shall meet him before God right now ! " thought Barry, and she flew over the slippery pavement. And again Something laid hold on her floating skirts and held her back. She looked about ; she put down her hand and shook her robe. No one had touched her ; nothing was near her. She put both of her shaking hands to her forehead and began to moan. "1 am mad mad mad! God won't judge me now for this last sin. He'll know my brain was turned." She staggered on and reached the river's brink, at a quiet place shut in by a crazy wooden fence. A shadow black as ink lay on the water here, cast from the hull of a vessel at the next wharf, and although there was the hum of voices all around, and the glare WOMAWS LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION. 97 of the low taverns and dance-houses across the street, neither voice nor light intruded here. Barry Pomeroy leaned over the black water. " You let me love him, God," she muttered in bit- ter reproach ; " and you let him do this to me. You've made it impossible for me to live here any longer ; now let me get into another world. I don't know which, and I don't much care. This one is about as terrible as any you've created." With these fearful words upon her lips, she was just poising herself for the fatal leap, when, for the third time, that mysterious Something laid tight hold upon her, and tore her back from the black verge of suicide. She gazed about wildly. Nothing, nothing to be seen ! An awful panic seized her ; the flesh of her crept ; the hair upon her head stood upright. She flung herself upon a heap of loose stones and rubbish, panting, ready to die with supernatural horror; And then she seemed to hear two voices speaking close beside her, and the first was her own. It said : " Pd Mil myself if I didn't hope to be even wif/i him some day" And the other was Barb's. It answered : " No, no ! You wouldn't be let do that. If your 98 WOMAN 1 S LOVE VERSUS MAN'S PASSION. mother is a good woman, her prayers would drag you back again ! " ******* "Oh, great God!" shivered Barry. "Is mother praying for me ? Then I dare not try to die ! Cruel, cruel Creator, I will live, then ; but I tell Thee this : if Thou hast not avenged me already, I will only live to avenge myself ! " CHAPTER YIII. THE HANDS THAT HELPED BAKKY ON HEE, WAT. iA ,T was about nine o'clock of the night when Barry alighted from a street cab at Mrs. Fair- leigh's door. The footman who opened the door expressed his relief at her appearance. " They've been out searching for you ever since Mr. Fairleigh was brought home : Mrs. Fairleigh and young Mr. Fairleigh are in a sad way about you, miss." " Tell them I'm safe," said Barry, and immedi- ately passed on to her room. Harrison Fairleigh was not killed, then ! As she laid aside her torn and draggled clothing, the unearthly glitter of her eyes might have daunted the bravest heart, and yet how soft and gentle grew that livid face of hers when Mrs. Fairleigh hurried in to clasp her in her arms, breathing joyful thanks- giving that she was unhurt ! "But where were you, dear? You must have passed a terribly time ! " exclaimed she, taking the 100 TEE HANDS THAT HELPED BARR7. cold face between her soft hands and gazing into it with eager questioning. " Harrison has suffered the keenest anxiety about you ever since he was brought home, poor fellow ; if he had not been really too much shaken to stand on his feet, he would not have rested a moment until he had found you." " When the horses ran away I sprang out, and was stunned by the shock," said Barry, in measured tones. " It was a long time before I thought of leaving the park, and then I was too bewildered to take the right direction home. However, no harm came to me, and I'm quite myself now ; don't worry about me at all, dear Mrs. Fairleigh. How is Harrison ? " " Not badly hurt, I hope," answered Mrs. Fairleigh, cheerfully. " There are no fractures, but he must lie still for a day or two. The horses fetched up at length against a wall, and one of them was killed on the spot, poor animal ; Harrison was dashed out with great violence, and was picked up insensible, and cared for in the nearest drug store. Then he came home to me. I am so glad that he did not go to the hotel instead. He has been so uneasy about you that I could not soothe him. Marah, dear, you must have both been very much absorbed in conversation to let the horses run away," added the lady, with a search- ing glance. Barry cast down her eyes modestly. THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. 101 " Yes, we were exchanging confidences on a -very interesting subject," said she, " and in his enthusiasm Harrison dropped the reins. No, no ; yon misun- derstand," she added, quickly, as Mrs. Fairleigh, with a bright smile of triumph, made a movement as if to embrace her, "/ was not the heroine of Mr. Fair- leigh's romance." " Marah ! " gasped Mrs. Fairleigh, " you don't mean to tell me " " I can tell you nothing," interposed Barry, taking the soft old hand in hers with a graceful tenderness. " Harrison will, no doubt, tell you all himself." Mrs. Fairleigh looked puzzled and disappointed. " My dear," said she, presently, " I am forgetting my orders. Harrison insists upon seeing you the first moment you can go to him, that he may assure himself that you have suffered no harm from his 'folly, as he calls it." Barry paled a little, but being fully dressed, and having no excuse ready, she said, without the slightest appearance of embarrassment : " Oh, I shall certainly obey ! I shall go now ; " and down she went forthwith to the parlor, where Harri- son lay groaning upon the sofa. He turned his ghastly face as she came in so coolly and calmly with his mother, and a cold perspiration broke out on his forehead. 102 THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. "I want to speak to Marah," he said, hoarsely. ''Only a few- words, Marah; I owe you some apology, you know," he added, with a sickly attempt at a laugh, " for giving you such a scare." Mrs. Fairleigh stole out, hope in her smiling eyes. Barry went near the sofa, and stood with dark gaze fastened upon the writhing young man. "Barry!" he burst forth, feverishly, "can you ever, ever forget this second insult ? I don't defend my conduct you see I've suffered for it pretty dearly, and serves me rightly ; but what are broken bones or the loss of a dozen blood-horses to 'the loss of you ? I see too clearly what a blind beast I was ever to hope to win you by any but the regular way ; and, confound it ! it's too late to try that now." The loss of a horse comparable for one moment with the eternal loss of a woman! Was this the man she was ready an hour ago to drown herself for ? Barry's lip curled with ungovernable contempt, but she merged the curl into a pathetic droop, and veiled her scintillating orbs with pathetically dropped eye- lashes. " O Barry ! " entreated the victim of his own self- ishness, " if you knew how passionately I love you, you would forgive me. I've been almost frantic about you ever since that wretched accident ; a thou- sand times I heartily, wished I had been dashed in THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. 103 pieces instead of Giaour, fearing you would never come back." He groaned again with physical as well as mental pain, and feebly stretched out his hand to the glass of water at his side. Barry swept forward, sank on her knees, and pass- ing her beautiful arm under his head, placed the glass to his lips, and, with a smile enough to make one's brain whirl with pleasure, bade him drink. " Trouble yourself no more," said she, in velvet accents. " Love prompted your fault true love for- gives it. If I must lose you so soon, Harrison" a peculiar expression flashed over her well-ordered face, as if some restless fiend had peeped 'out "so soon, my dear, I sha'n't embitter our last hours together. In a month Katherine Hendrick will claim your duty. Till then I hold you mine." Harrison, hearing this wild instance of woman's devotion, felt a warm glow of exultant satisfaction steal over him, even while he laughed mightily in the secret recesses of his worldly-wise heart over its niad and fatal folly. " Done ! " said he, grasping her with greedy hands, and wasting not a thought on the ruinous consequences to her. " Till marriage parts us, we belong to each other. Kiss me, Barry." Obedient, she bent her blushing lips to his, but long, 104 THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. long he remembered the mystic thrill of unreasoning terror which ran through every fibre of his being at their burning touch ********* "Ah, come in, Barb ; you're cold, ar'n't you ? Mis- " erable day." " Yes, Barry, it is snowing some, but I ran all the way here in such a hurry that I'm as warm as toast. You didn't come this morning to tell me about the drive, after all." " No ; we met with a disagreeable accident which put a summary stop to marriage proposals ; besides which, a new feature made its appearance not exactly conducive to comfortable love-making." " Mercy, Barry ! how queerly you do talk ! And now I see you clear, how queerly you look ! Is is it all gone to smash, dear Barry?" "Good little woman, don't worry over it I don't. I'm resigned, perfectly. Yes, my hopes in that direc- tion have all gone as you put it to smash. My cavalier is engaged to another lady, ' fairer and better than I,' as Joaquin Miller has it. Ha ! ha ! A mil- lionaire's daughter, my child worth thousands! What would you have? A year ago I was milking cows ! ' ' " Don't, Barry ! You don't speak in earnest, I know ; this is all bitter chaff, you couldn't smile with THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. 105 them white lips of yours if you let your real feel- ings speak. Mr. Fairleigh has played the villain, and I know you too well to believe you are going to take it as quietly as this. Oh, my dear! my dear ! tell me everything, and let me at least cry for you ! " " There's nothing more to tell, except that in the heat of the discussion he let the horses run off. T jumped out and found my way home by one road, and he was dashed out, and brought home hurt, by another." " Is he here under the same roof with you ? " " He is." " And you intend to stay here ? " "Yes, and to assist at his nuptials. Ah! ha! ha!" "Oh, don't laugh, Barry!" "And don't you cry, Barb. There's nothing worth crying over. All is going merry as a mar- riage bell ! " " I never saw you so hard, so so terrible, Barry. What are you going to do ? " " To study how to live comfortably without the in- convenience of feeling. There, there, don't wear the subject threadbare ; let's drop it." " No, dear Barry, I can't drop it. You are not like yourself, and I'm afraid of you. I'd rather see you as you used to be, ramping and raging I knew 106 THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. what to dread then, but now now for my sake for your mother's sake, beware where your evil heart leads you ! " " Stop ! mention my mother's name to me again, and you'll never see me more. Let me go my way, Barbara, and you go yours; we are not likely to agree well henceforth." " You tell me that, Barry ! Oh, my heart ! what is she going to do ? " " To bear the cross which God has put upon me with a quiet spirit, and to thank Him for it, as the palpable means of my salvation." " My darling, you scoff, but He is very sorry for you just now." " Enough, Barb, I can't stay with you to-day, because I think it my duty to practise the sweet graces of a forgiving spirit, and to crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts, by devoting myself to the amusement of mine adversary who has smitten me so sorely. Don't come to see me again, Barb, until you've made up your mind to let me bear this my own way." And so they part, Barry to sweep down in her lus- trous robes to the sullying presence of the man who would destroy her ; Barb to creep out into the whirl- ing snow, with her little hands clasped and the sobbing cry upon her lips : TEE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. 107 " Sweet Jesus ! melt her heart ! Sweet Jesus ! melt her heart!" " So my son is engaged to Miss Hendrick ! " ex- claimed Mrs. Fairleigh, eyeing her adopted daughter wistfully. " And he has told you all about it. "Well, well, she is a beautiful girl, and a highly accomplished one ; I hope they may be happy together." " Amen ! " murmured Barry, looking up from her delicate silken fancy work. " They love each other so devotedly, that they deserve to be happy at least so I gather from Harrison's enthusiastic descriptions of her devotion, beauty, and worth." " We must go and call upon the bride-elect. We should have gone before had we known of this en- gagement. I wonder why Harrison did not announce it at once." " Perhaps he felt the subject too sacred to be dis- cussed before outsiders," said Barry, with an innocent smile. "I know if I loved any one with the reveren- tial idolatry which he lavishes upon her, I should feel a certain hesitation about airing my passion or analyz- ing it, even to my mother, if I had one." Mrs. Fairleigh dropped the subject ; it was difficult to carry it on with such a tyro in love matters as this inexperienced maiden ; besides which, it was a pain- ful subject to her, and caused her some uneasiness. 108 THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. It was very singular, very, that Harrison should have delayed so long announcing his engagement to a lady to whom he was to be married in a month. She was an unexceptionable match in a worldly point of view, and he was none the less eligible; they had been engaged for several months already, and had ap- peared openly together in Paris and London, why then this uncomfortable secrecy, and this unpleasant ignoring of his only relative ? Above all, why should he have sedulously concealed the matter from his mother and her adopted daughter, for a whole week after his arrival home, while the bride's friends were busily engaged in preparations for the ceremony, and were doubtless marvelling much at the unwonted delay of his relatives in recognizing the connection about to be formed ? " No time is to be lost, Marah ; we must call this afternoon," said the ruffled lady. " If we had kn own we should have gone down to the steamer to meet Miss Ilendrick. What must she think of our n3o-li- G> gence ? " Miss Ilendrick had crossed the ocean under the protection of a wealthy New York lady acquaintance in the same steamer with her betrothed, Mr. Fair- leigh, and her cousin, Mr. Roscoe ; indeed, sho had spent many months in almost daily companionship with the gentleman who was about to claim Her THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. 109 hand, having travelled with the' Roscoe parly, of which he and she formed members, all over the Euro- pean continent, not to speak of the gay season in Paris, and" the familiar communion afforded by the voyage across the ocean. She ought to understand his nature well, if any woman could ! About half an hour subsequently the two ladies were being ushered into the reception-room of the elegant white marble mansion of Baron Ilendrick, where the baroness and her daughter sat in state, re- ceiving. A word or two about this rival of Barbara Pome- roy's. A pampered baby an indulged child a selfish woman. Beautiful ? Yes, as beautiful as if an Angelo's hand had sculptured her, and yet a Greater than Angelo created that lovely face, and it wanted love- liness. Soul, there was none ; gentleness, humility, maiden tenderness, were gems that all her wealth could not buy Katharine Ilendrick. And men raved over her " rust-red locks," twined in burnished masses round her queenly head ; over her pure visage, rendered haughty, said they, only by the delicate aquiline of the nose for the mouth was small and red as rose-leaves, and the eyes were 110 THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. humid hazel; over her long neck, white as sea- foam, her sylphine figure, stately only in its regal poise ; in fact, over all the outward clothing of the small, chill heart and dwarfed soul which made the real woman. Her mother? "Well, there are thousands such tens of thousands. Filled with vaunting pride of wealth and station, with vaulting ambition, never to be satiated, superficial observers, measuring all men by the length of their purses. Oh, she was not the mother, I tell you, to yearn over the future of her one fair child with brooding anxiety and tender prayers of far greater consequence to her was the precedence of her haughty Katherine in society than mere vulgar heart-ease ! Having -made the acquaintance of their specially interesting visitors, the four sat down to take stock of each other, and while the elder ladies glanced with intense curiosity at the younger ladies, these fastened their eyes upon each other with a keen scrutiny scarcely disguised And as each felt the power of the other's wondrous beauty, one little lightning flash of scorn darted from each pair of eyes, and a faint defiant smile curved each perfect lip. "Miss Leith is a your adopted daughter?" drawled Baroness Heudrick, folding her large white hands in her silken lap. THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. Ill " Yes ; a charming girl, and a great source of pleas- ure to me ; but let us talk of your lovely child, she is perfectly radiant. It seems heartless to steal her from you, you must love her so dearly," answered Mrs. Fairleigh, who was quite moved by the sight of her son's choice, and felt her warm heart going out to her already. Meantime, Miss Hendrick was saying, in a voice like some sweet silver instrument : " You were long in coming to see me, but now you've come, I can't beangry with you. I daresay you were so glad to have Harrison back that you could not be troubled making formal calls." To which Barry answered, perceiving distinctly the little shaft of jealousy shot at her, and glorying in her power to sting : " Mrs. Fairleigh never makes formal calls, and does not consider this one ; but, as you say, we were very glad to have Harrison back, and he was so glad to be at home again that we could scarcely get him to con- sent to our leaving him to come to-day." For a moment Miss Hendrick sat mutely gazing at her as astonished as if she had struck her in the face ; but the bold eyes met hers unflinchingly, and the splendid woman before her seemed to her, in that first instant of wondering terror, as strong, as hard, and as inaccessible as a tower. 112 THE HANDS THAT HELPED BARRY. " You never saw my fiance before, did yon \ " de- manded she, a strange quiver in her silver tones. " Never before," answered Barry, with a cruel smile ; " but I know him pretty well already, and he is such a finished courtier that I do not wonder in the least at his victory over your heart. He has al- most won my own, ha, ha! Really I envy you, Miss Hendrick." " Ila ! ha ! ha ! " laughed Katharine Hendrick, softly, while her flashing eyes said : " War to the death, Marah Leith ! " " Ila ! ha ! ha ! " echoed Barry, as softly, while her taunting eyes took up the challenge. CHAPTER IX. THE HANDS THAT WOULD HAVE SAVED HEK. ARRISON FAIRLEIGII was back in his hotel again, having quite recovered from the effects of his accident, and having nc excuse to stay longer under his mother's roof. He had been wonderfully loth to leave, however; for once in his life he sincerely enjoyed the quiet- ness and seclusion of Mrs. Fairleigh's home, and turned with an internal shudder of disgust tQ. the fashionably fast life to be led in his hotel. But he had no excuse to stay, and Roscoe waited impatiently for his friend to rejoin him. One morning, sauntering out to Madison Square to smoke a sulky cigar, and to rnuse uninterruptedly upon the tempting fascinations of well, not exactly his bride-elect he was stopped by a little vailed figure wrapped in a thick shawl, which rose from a seat at his approach. "Mr. Harrison Fairleigh?" said she, interroga- tively. ]14r HANDS THAT WOULD HAVE SAVED HER. Her voice was tremulously sweet, fresh, and young, and the tip of a wind-blown tress of pale gold hair was visible under her veil. Harrison thought it would be interesting to stop, so he did so. Had some wrinkled, helpless old woman slipped upon the frozen pavement and fallen at his feet, he would have passed on with a shrug and a muttered " Poor old mummy ! " but this being, whom he firmly expected to beg some sort of assistance from him, was young and (he hoped) pretty, and on the whole, Har- rison did not mind paying something for the pleas- ure of talking to a handsome woman. " Yes, madam, that is my name," replied he, lift- ing his hat with his most easy grace. " Have I the honor of knowing you ? " and he gazed hard at the black veil. She drew it aside, exposing a delicate, small-fea- tured countenance, with large misty blue eyes, and a pure, earnest expression. " You don't know me," said she, quietly, " but I know you and Barbara Pomeroy" lie started, and a dark glow overspread his frown- ing face. " You do ! " exclaimed he, " and who are you ? " " Never mind that ; I have watched for a chance of speaking to you unobserved, for several days." " You must have something tremendous to say, or * HANDS THAT WOULD HAVE SAVED HER. 115 you wouldn't freeze yourself hanging about here on that slim chance ! Come, young lady, what do you want with me ? " For a few moments they walked under the leafless trees, side by side, in silence ; Harrison casting side- glances at the sorrowful young face of the girl, and racking his brains to conjecture what she might have to communicate, while she walked on wrapped in thought. Presently she turned to him, scanning him with a timid yet earnest air. " You have done such harm to Barbara Pomeroy, that you've changed what, I am sure, was a good nature, into a vindictive and revengeful one. I don't know what to say to you about her, except to entreat you to leave her alone, and to beware of her." She stopped, tears rushed into her eyes, her gentle lips trembled. " I can't bear to speak so of Barry, for I love her very dearly," faltered she, " and it breaks my heart to see her so bitterly wronged that she should turn as hard as a rock." Harrison listened in astonishment. " Who are you ? " he burst forth, " and how do you come to know all this girl's secrets ? " " I needn't tell you ; " said she, firmly, "and you needn't ask her neither ; I've no business to interfere in the matter, for I'm no relation to Barbara, but I 116 HANDS TEAT WOULD HAVE SAVED HER'' love her too well to stand by and see her destroy her- self for the sake of a man who isn't worth her love." "Thank you! thank you!" said Harrison, satiri- cally. " I perceive why you preserve an incognito ; behind it you can say a good many things you would not venture upon else." " You mistake," said she, with simple dignity. " I have no wish to reproach you ; that would do no g little Barb Pomeroy old lean's foundling had stopped by the hand-cart in which Sal wheeled her organ and her child the livelong day, and had spoken such words to the mother and given such smiles to the child that the weary woman thought her like an angel, and had looked for her day by day to come, the one glimpse of heaven thrown across her bleak life-path. A kind word oh, inestimable gem ! For gold may rust, and favors corrupt the heart, but a kind word is like the sunbeam imprisoned in the opal, and once received into the warming bosom, shines there forever with inextinguishable ray ! Barb knew that One-eyed Sal loved her, and a. great hope made all her pulses thrill. " She's coming this way ; I'll open the window ," said she to her jailor. " Seems to me it would cheer me up a bit to hear the old Bongs." 180 LITTLE BARB WHOM ANGELS LOVED. " If anything would banish your blue devils it would be a mercy ! " growled Tim, who had a de- cided penchant for music of the jovial order himself; " only don't let- old Nan catch ye poking your head out there." Barb opened the window and leaned out. There was the poor old organ-woman half a block down the street, grinding away at her wheezy in- strument, and there was her poor little boy, rolled up in rags in the end of the cart, his face as thin and blue as want and cold could make it. Barb's pulses beat faster. In a few minutes Sal would pass under her window. " If she would only look up and see me," thought Barb, " may be I could let her know that I want to get away from here. I know she'd help me if she could." The organ stopped playing, Sal wheeled the cart a few houses nearer, and began again. Barb looked back into the room, and through the blue smoke from Tim's pipe saw him lolling back in his chair, with his feet braced against the wall and his back to her, enjoying the music while he turned over the filthy leaves of a dog-eared song-book. " If I only had a pencil," thought Barb, " and a bit of paper, I'd write something to Sal this very minute., I have some cents in my pocket, and I could roll 'em up in it and pitch it down to her easy." LITTLE BARB WHOM ANGELS LOVED. 131 As this sigh escaped her, she noticed' the litter of cards and half-burned matches both being the usual evidences of Tim's protracted vigil lying temptingly on the table between them. Barb like a spirit crept noiselessly to the table right behind Tim, selected a few of the cleanest cards and as many burnt matches as she could catch up, and, creeping back to her seat, leaned over the window, her little heart beating like a trip-ham- mer. She laid a knave of hearts face down upon the grimy sill, and delicately removing the soft ash from the end of the match, she wrote the following upon the back of the card, as like print as she could make it : " DEAR SAL : Barb Pomeroy is in trouble ; send word to Dr. Wayne Kensellaer's Landing, on the Hudson that old Nan has her, and that Barry is worse. Dear Sal, do this right quickly for " LITTLE BARB." It took more than half a dozen matches to indite this epistle upon the back of a knave of hearts, an ace of diamonds, and ten of clubs, and by that time Sal was under the window, commencing her little round of popular airs. Barb took the few cents from her pocket, and roll- 182 LITTLE BARB WHOM ANGELS LOVED. ing the three cards carefully round them in a com- pact bundle, pinned it securely together ; then tied the end of the reel of cotton from which she had been sewing round it, and all was ready. But now, how was she to attract Sal's attention, that she might see the tiny packet about to be low- ered to her, and prevent it from being snatched up by some hurrying passenger? Barb peeped back into the room for some small object which she could throw down, but seeing noth- ing movable, caught up the scissors and cut a button off her own dress. She aimed it at Sal, but it missed fire, and dropped on the little boy's face as he lay fast asleep, with his head against the asthmatic or- gan, and it was evident by Sal's quick movement towards him, that he had awakened with a cry of fright. The little prisoner watched with breathless sus pense, while the woman, dropping the handle, picked up the button and looked hither and thither in angry surprise, to see who had thrown it at her darling ; but as she did not chance to look up, another button, better aimed, dropped upon her shoulder, and at last she did look up from window to window of the whole five stories, till from the very top she saw a white face looking down, with a great mass of yellow hair floatirg about it for Barb had pulled it down LITTLE BARB WHOM ANGELS LOVED. 183 in a mighty hurry, that Sal might know her better and a little white hand waving and gesticulating to her. And as she stood there, gaping and wondering, a tiny white speck dropped from the waving hand, and came down, down, down, spinning round and round, and growing bigger and bigger, till she caught it in her own hand a small, hard lump of paper, tied about with a white thread. " Shet the winder, will yer ! " exclaimed Tim, in a rousing voice. " Sal's gone, and the wind's like a knife. "What in thunder's come of them cards? " Barb shut the window in trembling haste, and turned back into the cheerless room to see her jailor in vain endeavoring to play his solitary game with- out the knave, ace, and ten. " Seems as if you was 'livened up a bit," said he, staring at her. " All right, my gal, the sooner the better, so's we'll go on with that little argyment of ours!" CHAPTER XIY. WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. fTEXT morning Barb's persecutions began again, but she had not lain awake all night for nothing ; she was ready with a proposi- tion which, if conceded to, would stave them off till Dr. Wayne arrived. " Get me my old place in the opera house," said she, " and I'll give you every cent I earn ; but don't waste your time and ruin my health trying to force me to do what I never will, though you should tear the flesh off my bones." ".All very fine ! " flouted old Nan. " You won't run away nor iiothin', not you ! " " I dare say you'll take care of that," said Barb ; " and it'll come to about the same thing in the end, I guess, whether you try to keep me here or to keep sight of me on the streets." Old Nan's eyes glistened with cupidity. Barb was so wonderfully improved in appearance that perhaps they'd give her a place as principal of the ballet WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. 185 corps ; in time she might even rise to be a walking lady or a posturante, and then what a mine of wealth she would be to theni ! " If you will promise faithful not to run away from us," said Nan, " I'll let you do as you like." Barb turned a shade paler, for a struggle began in her mind ; at last she said, huskily : ''I'll promise not to run away if you'll just give me one afternoon to myself to go where I like." A derisive shout from the twain checked her. ' Old Kan and Tim Poison were in convulsions of merri- ment at her simplicity. "No, no! Yer don't try that on ! " said Tim, when lie could speak. " Ton was put here jest for to keep you out o' other folks' business, and it don't suit our book to break faith with the parties what handed yer over to us. Promise not to run away, and we'll let you go back to the theatre that's square, ain't it ? " " Very well," said Barb, reviving again. " You let me earn my living honestly, and I'll work for you till I'm twenty-one, but try to drive me to do wrong, and I warn you I'll make my escape the first chance." After considerable discussion this was agreed to, the wink which was passed between the comrades in crime testifying to the fidelity with which they in- tended to keep their part of the bargain, and the sparkle in Barb's downcast eye denoting how clearly 186 WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER she read their treachery, and how determined she was to frustrate it. Nan went anon to the manager, and having suc- ceeded in bringing little Pomeroy to his mind, easily ob- tained her re-engagement, and returned home elated. And now commenced Barb's rehearsals of her lialf- - forgotten art, when, hurrying off to the theatre at half- past seven of the morning, with her arm securely locked in that of the detestable old Nan, she prac- tised poses, pirouettes, entrechats, and weary bal- ancings on the tips of her toes till eleven o'clock, to be dragged home again to her meagre dinner, escorted back by Tim Poison at half -past one to perform her part in the matinee, returning at five to a still more meagre supper, and back again at half-past seven, as weary a little coryphee as one might find the world over, to embody the " poetry of motion " with what enthusiasm she might to please the devotees of Terpsichore. And what sustained our good little Barb through this slavery ? The bope of gaining an opportunity to send some word, before it was too late, to Kathe- rine Hendrick. She frequently met Sal, the organ-woman, loitering in the street, but one significant glance warned hex not to accost her, and it was the third of February before, in passing her, Sal was enabled to thrust into WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. 187 her hand, unobserved, a crumpled piece of paper, which told her that Sal had written to Dr. Wayne as directed, and that Dr. Wayne was in town, waiting for a message from Barb as to what he was to do ; that Sal had told him to keep in the background, knowing what " Turks " old Nan and Tim Poison were when anybody meddled in their business, and that there the matter rested. It was that very same night, when Barb was lying awake in the dismal closet thinking, that she over- heard a whispered conversation in the garret that made her blood boil. Nan was confiding to Tim, as an excellent piece of news, that some " swell cove " had fallen in love with Barb as she danced that night, and had gone round behind the scenes expressly to see her, but had been taken in hand by Nan herself, who soon made a " stunning " bargain, and he was to run off with the poor little ballet-dancer next night. And while Tim Poison chuckled in fiendish exultation, and Nan set forth her own superior generalship, their intended victim lay quailing and weeping, till the thought of the Hand that held her ever calmed and comforted her, and then she smiled at their foolish triumph and went to sleep like an infant on its mother's breast. The morning before the wedding-day, little Barb, on the way to her morning's practice, stopped obsti- 188 WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. nately beside Sal's hand-cart, and stooping, kissed the child. " Stop that rot ! " growled old Nan, dragging her on. " Folks don't care much for your fussing over them if yer don't give 'em nothin'. He ! he ! didn't I say so ? Jest look at Sal grubbiii' among the rags to see what yer gave Jimmie beside soft sawder ! " Yes, she was grubbing earnestly for something else, and she found it, too; a note written in pencil to Dr. Wayne. " DEAR DR. WAYNE," wrote Barb as prettily as freezing fingers, no desk, a crumpled scrap of papei\ and a blunt pencil would permit. " I am in great trouble. Nine days ago the night of the very day you went home I was kidnapped from niy boarding-house by the people I used to live so miser- ably with, and have been kept so close ever since that I could scarcely get word even to you. I am afraid Barry is in terrible danger, but it's no earthly use for me to tell you what that danger is, or for you to try und see her. I must escape somehow and do what I can myself. Will you be at the Grand Opera House to-night in the first row of the orchestra chairs, and when a ballet-dancer comes forward to the foot- lights and kneels, drawing a silver tissue-scarf over her face, you'll know that that's me, and that I've WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. 189 made you a signal to go round to the stage entrance and meet me there. Old ISTan and Tim Poison are sure to be at hand, for they are always on th.3 look-out lest I escape ; but I must give tlfem the slip to-night, for they have plotted my ruin, and I dare stay with th-'Hii no longer. Altogether I am in such a way abcut Barry and Mrs. Pomeroy, who was so ill when I left her, and about my fears for the future, that I scarcely know what I am writing. I do hope you'll get this, and understand it. " Yours, very respectfully, BAKB." And Dr. Wayne, who had been half beside himself with bewilderment and anxiety, not knowing what to think of the strange state of affairs, having read this note, prepared to do Barb's bidding, devoutly hoping that in his first interview with her light would come out of darkness. **'**** This is really fairy like, is it not ? The lights are lowered through all the house, and a soft, tender radiance illumines the stage, which re- minds one of the wonderful caverns under the sea, with their rocks of gold, and coral sprays of blushing rose; their fretted fronds of silver anclpak amethyst, and lurid fire, and rich, red bronze, their floors of 190 WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. glistering sands, gem-bestrewn, and the faint green haze of the deep sea waves floating over all ! There are glittering white stalactites and stalag- mites in this mermaids' cave, and great brown rocks weed-swathed, and wet green banks of ocean mosses, and heaps of starry shells, and the loveliest sylphs float in and out among the jagged columns bound upon the rocks, recline smiling upon the soft moss couches, and bedeck their long yellow hair with the starry shells singing all the while, with shut mouths, the sweetest, delicatest wave-song ever you heard in a delicious dream ! And in their midst rises, from glistening floor to weed-hung vaulted roof, a pyramid of fairy women, kneeling, reclining, standing on the opalescent rocks which form the central object in the cave, the three at the very apex upholding on their clasped hands an earth-maiden, a tiny, white-robed creature, who gazes in wonder upon the pretty mysteries of the deep. To the sound of the mermaid song she floats down, stepping, with delicate foot, from hand to hand, until she reaches the floor, where, with a gliding-grace, she begins her dance, at which all the lovely mermaids gaze in admiration. Suddenly she unwinds her scarf of silver tissue from her slender waist, and floating in a passion of WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. 191 pirouettes right up t 1 ) the lowered footlights, she sinks slowly, deliciously, down to one knee, drawing her gleaming vail over her strangely solemn face. As she does this, two gentlemen rise simultaneous- ly, one from his place in the front row of the orches- tra chairs, the other from his place in the right-hand stage-box, and precipitately leave the auditorium. As fae figurante whirls off the stage she catches a glimpse of each retreating form, and bounds behind the scenes like a veritable creature of the air. -**#### " Hello ! Barb, what are ye after ? Tou ain't nigh through, are ye ? " Old Nan sat half asleep in the dressing-room usually occupied by the ballet corps, and Barb the earth-maiden was tearing off her spangled robe, her silk tights, and all the adjuncts of her impersonation. " Get your needle and thread quick ! " cried Barb, tossing the heap of tarletan into her lap. " I'm torn to pieces and haven't ten minutes before I go on again. Ugh ! how I shiver ? I'll put on my dress while you mend me up." With trembling fingers she did so, old Nan, mean- time, pottering over the lamentable rents these same little fingers had deliberately made in the airy toilet of the earth-maiden, and then, throwing her shawl about her, she ran to the door, saying : 192 WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. " I must have a look at 'em between the flats ; it's as pretty as a picture." " You jest keep where you are !" bawled old Nan; but she spoke to the wind. Barb was gone ; and the distinct sound of the key turning in the lock told old Nan that Barb was gone for good ! She raved, she swore, she shouted. Nobody heard or heeded her in the din of the " Sea Storm " which was transforming the Cave of the Mermaids into a seething maelstrom. Barb, threading her way among the carpenters, the scene-shifters, the waiting actors, and such mis- cellanies as peopled that mysterious region behind the scenes, was congratulating herself that she was get- ting along beautifully, being neither accosted nor de- tained, when, opening the door and springing into the street, she was met by a man in a footman's livery, 'who pinioned her arms in a moment and held her fast. By the light of the opposite street lamp she could distinctly see a handsome close carriage drawn up exactly in front of the stage entrance, a tall gentle- .man standing by the open carriage-door, and Dr. Wayne hurrying along the pavement toward her. Several figures she was aware of lurking in the shadow of the carriage, and she perceived in a mo- ment that she was almost in the power of the man to whom her persecutors had sold her. WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. 193 " Help ! help ! " shrieked Barb, struggling like a little tigress. The footman attempted to close her mouth with his hand, and was reinforced in a moment by the men who were in waiting. Hugh Wayne darted forward, with one vigorous blow felled the man who held her to the ground, and seized her in his arms. She clung to him frantically, continuing her shrill cries for help, while Hugh fought off his assailants as best he could retreating step by step back to the stage entrance, Meanwhile the tramp of feet hurrying toward the spot, and the distant whistle of a policeman, warned the combatants that there was no time to be lost. " Dash it all, colonel ! " roared Tim Poison's voice, "ye see she won't come by fair means. I'll hev to settle this business my own way." " No violence, my man," returned the gentleman who stood at the coach door. " Barbara Pomeroy," continued he, " I'm not going to harm you ; I give you my word " " Villain ! " interposed Hugh Wayne, hotly, " you shall never obtain possession of this good girl but over my body ! " In his turn he was interrupted by a blow on the temple from the sledge-hammer fist of Tim Poison, which sent him reeling to the pavement. Barb was torn from him, her frantic cries smothered in tho 9 194 WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. folds of her thick shawl, and feeling herself hustled into the coach, the gentleman receiving her in a vice- like grasp, and the coach dashing off at full speed, an awful panic seized her, and for the first time in her life she fainted. When Barb recovered her senses she found herself lying on a sofa in a handsomely furnished room, with an old lady, in stiff black silk and handsome furs, bending over her. Barb sprang from the sofa, uttering a faint cry ; then seeing that 110 one else was in the room, she went back to the lady dizzily, and catching her by the sleeve, exclaimed with intense earnest- ness : " If you have any mercy in you if you have ever had a daughter and loved her if you hope for mercy yourself when you come to die, let me escape from the man who brought me here ! " The lady regarded her with a stern and stony gaze. " My commands are to let him know whenever you are recovered ; I can listen to nothing you say," re- plied she, releasing herself. And, in spite of Barb's frantic prayers and endeavors to detain her, she in- stantly left the room. Little Barb stood motionless. Where was her help to come from now ? Had the hour at last arrived WHAT DEVILS DN) WITH HER. 195 when she must defend her honor with her life ? Her pale face grew paler, her sweet eyes kindled, she drew a long, shuddering sigh, she glanced at herself in the tall mirror opposite, with a strange, solemn smile. " Good-by, Barb," whispered she, " you may never see yourself on earth again ! " She passed quickly round the room, looking for some chance of escape or of summoning help ; then flew to one of the long windows, and, touching the spring, threw it wide open. Far beneath glittered the wide street, sprinkled with lights of carriages returning from opera and theatre. She rested one knee on the sill, holding on by the rich lace curtain and waited. Strange sight for the gentleman who flung open the door and strode in with black eyes flashing under his frowning brows ! There she stood, the tiny figure, in its modest gray gown, with the forgotten crown of the " earth-maiden" still glittering in her unbound yellow hair, the great, greenish, glistening stage-jewels still twinkling in her ears and at her throat, her face blanched death-white, her great pulsating eyes filled with supernatural light, and the yawning window and black night behind her ! He stood transfixed, his back against the door, and a wave of wonder and grief passed over her ghastly 196 WHAT DEVILS DID WITH HER. f aco. A few moments of dead silence, and she spoko in a hushed voice. " Mr. Roscoe," said poor little Barb, " is it you who want to do me this great wrong ? " Lionel Roscoe ! Yes, it was no other than he who was her abductor. CHAPTEE XY. A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND A PRINCESS OF HEAVEN. # 'ISEEABLE woman ! " exclaimed Mr. Eoscoe, closing the door ; " it comes ill from you to speak of wrong. Come, this folly shall not serve you. Eetire from that window instantly." All his stern scorn of her spoke in his tone and glance. Perplexed, she came out of the niche a step, gazing at him half-affrightedly, half -eagerly. " Why have you brought me here, if it was you who did so?" asked she. " To force you to declare the truth to Miss Hen- drick before it is too late." Barb came out of the niche altogether, a flash of joy lighting up her face. "It is not too late yet, then!" cried she. "Oh, thank God ! I feared it was. Miss Hendrick is going to be married to-morrow morning, isn't she ? " Eoscoe bowed : he was considerably disconcerted at her eagerness to comply with his wishes. " You have no objection, apparently," said he, " to 198 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. publish your own infamy, and that of Harrison Fair- leigh, to the injured lady." " My infamy ! " faltered Barb, crimsoning. " What do you mean, sir ? " " You know well," retorted he, disdainfully. " Since the day I saw you with him in Madison Park I have remembered the name of Barbara Pomeroy, and done my best to bring the shameful history of its owner to light." She looked at him in stricken silence for a moment, then all the pride of innocence burst forth. She stepped up to him, fearless enough now, and, cresting her little head,, said, sternly : " I am but a poor girl, sir, and I have no one to defend my good name but myself ; you are cowardly to traduce it ; you are false, too, for my name is all I have, and it is as spotless as any woman's in all America ! " Roscoe received this with a cold, derisive smile. "This is of course," said he. " Faiiieigh's mis- tress has doubtless been well bribed to attest to her own and Faiiieigh's purity ! " "Sir!" cried she, passionately. "Gentleman though you are, I will not be insulted by you. Leave me ! Leave me, I say ! " . Mr. Koscoe retreated a few steps, amazed at the flashing anger of the little creature before him, and A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 199 considerably affected by it, notwithstanding his pre- conceived opinion concerning her. " If I wrong you, girl," said he, " I heartily beg your pardon, though, in that case I confess, I should hardly deserve it ; but appearances are sadly against you. What was the subject of your conversation with Mr. Fairleigh when I came upon you in Madison Square ? Were you not threatening him doubtless having heard of his approaching marriage with the future vengeance of Barbara Poineroy ? For what purpose did you visit Mrs. Fairleigh's house so fre- quently during Mr. Fairleigh's illness? Why did Barbara Poineroy require Miss Leith to plead her cause at the masqued ball ? And, above all, why have you suddenly disappeared from your boarding- house without leaving a single clue by which any one might trace you, if my worst suspicions are not correct, and Mr. Fairleigh has not succeeded in buy- ing your sitence ? " Barb listened with growing consternation appear- ances were indeed sadly against her. How could she defend herself? She could think of but the one way, a very easy and simple way, namely, to put the shoe on the right foot to refer him to the other Barbara Pomeroy. She turned away with a quick gasp, threw herself into a chair, and covered her face with her hands. 200 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. This looked so like guilt that Lionel Roscoe scowled at her with positive loathing. " Besides all this," continued he, ruthlessly, " it is enough to shake one's faith in any woman's purity to find her actually for sale as the property of two of the worst characters that ever plied their infamous calling. How is it that with your claims to a good name, I was able to buy you from that woman ? " Barb flashed up again, quivering with anguish and indignation. "Are you blind?" said she, bitterly. "Did I go with you willingly? Did you not carry me off by violence ? " " Explained," said he, " by another lover being on the ground before me." " He was no lover of mine," said she. " I ap- pealed to him to help me to escape from these wretches who have dared to sell me to you, and you would have found, had you really bought me, that I knew how to defend myself as a good woman should ! " " All this I am willing I am anxious to believe," said Roscoe, struck once more, in spite of himself, by the mere power of truth. " You have only to explain matters as they really are surely that is not a difficult thing if you are really guiltless." To explain matters ! Barb sank down again, A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 201 rushed. To say Marah Leith is an impostor and has played a wicked part for vengeance ! Tears streamed from her eyes, convulsive sobs rent her innocent breast. "I can't explain !" gasped she. "Don't ask me to explain ! Oh, this is cruel cruel ! I had only my good name, and they have taken that from me ! " " Enough of this ! " said Roscoe, harshly, feeling utterly disgusted with her obstinacy. "It grows late ; you must come with me at once to Baron Ilen- drick's house, where I trust we shall find means to induce you to speak the truth." Barb looked up terror-stricken. " I am willing to speak to Miss Ilendrick," said she, " and I thaak Heaven for giving rne the chance, but don't ask rne to speak before the baron and baroness." Roscoe shrugged his shoulders slightingly. " You are scarcely the character whom one would trust in a private interview vyth one whom you doubtless presume to consider your rival. However, Miss Ilendrick shall judge of that for herself, and we shall devise means to protect her from either insolence or violence. I shall now call in Mrs. Archer, the baroness's housekeeper, whom I pre- vailed upon to accompany me upon this mission in the interests of my own reputation." 9* 202 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. He left the room, returning a few minutes after- ward with a lady in stiff silk, who, grimly taking possession of Barb by the arm, marched her through the spacious corridor, and down the stairs of the ladies' entrance, to Baron Heiidrick's carriage, which awaited Mr. Roscoe's pleasure. On the way, Barb said to Mrs. Archer Mr. Roscoe not having deigned to enter the carriage in such company, preferring the driver's seat " I must see Miss Hendrick alone ; I can't say a word unless I see her alone. Will you plead with Mr. Roscoe for me ? And oh ! don't tell the baron or the baroness that I am with her ; let her tell it herself, if she wishes to do so, after I have told her the thing I have on my mind." Mrs. Archer answered, with dignity : " Young woman, I don't know who or what you are, and I don't approve of this expedition 7iot one step of it. I have other things to attend to on my young lady's wedding-eve than the raking up of old secrets, I think." When- they arrived at Baron Hend'rick's door, it was fifteen minutes to twelve o'clock. Every window was dark except those in the area, behind which the busy cooks still flitted to and fro. ''All abed and asleep, Mrs. Archer," said Mr. A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 203 Roscoe, appearing at the carriage door. " Please go up and awake Miss Hendrick. Tell her I must see her. Tell her that I implore her by her future happiness not to deny me." The disapproving housekeeper conducted the un- timely guests into a cold, vacant parlor, lit the gas, and solemnly ascended the stairs. " I am going to tell the exact truth to Miss Hen- drick, as far as it concerns her," said Barb, " but I want to beg you not to arouse her father and mother unless she wishes it. She may decide to let the marriage take place." w " She shall decide everything," replied Mr. Roscoe, haughtily. Mrs. Archer reappeared. " Miss Hendrick is not in bed yet," said she ; " will 'you walk up to her parlor ? " Mr. Roscoe, signing Barb to follow, obeyed. They entered Miss Ilend rick's beautiful little parlor, where Mrs. Archer had lit the gas, and presently Miss Hen- drick's chamber door opened a little way, and she said, sharply : " "What now, Lionel ? This "is a late visit ! " Nothing was seen of the lady, save her slender white hand holding the door ajar ; but there was a nameless expression in her voice which startled Mr. Roscoe, and aroused Barb's curiosity to see the con- 204 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. cealed face of the owner. Mr. Roscoe, speaking through the aperture, replied in a low voice, and at some length. She interrupted him fiercely. "Is it worth while to torture me with your suspicions now ? Don't you see that you co.ne too late?" " Never too late, Katherine, till the fatal knot is tied ! " exclaimed he, pleadingly. " Oh, don't blind your eyes any longer ! Let me save you ! " " Save me, Lionel ? O God ! " aspirated the bride- elect, and then she laughed a little dreadful laugh. "The girl may see you, Katherine ? " asked he, anxiously. " What girl ? Oh ! Your witness against my lover. Well, well, what does it matter now ? " mut- tered she. " Yes, Lionel, send her in." " I fear for you she may be desperate let me wait within call," pleaded Roscoe. " Tush ! She cannot trouble me" said the lady. " I am beyond such tiny stings. Come in, girl, I'll hear you." She opened the door, keeping her person so jea- lously concealed behind it, that Mr. Koscoe could not catch one glimpse of her. Barb passed in, and the door was instantly shut. They stood face to face, each pale as death ; but while Barb's little heart beat to suffocation, Miss Hen- A PRI&CESS OF EARTH AND HEA VEN. 205 drick seemed cold as ice. She had laid aside her rich evening-dress, and in a flowing white dressing-robe, with her long, deep chestnut hair streaming over her shoulders, and that fixed and fatal look in her face, she struck the young girl with an unutterable dread. The dressing-room, which Barb could see through the opposite door, which was open, was brightly lighted, and presented glimpses of the bridal-robes laid out for the morrow ; the foam-white bridal veil of priceless lace, the glimmering white pearl set, shining in their open casket everything laid ready, even to the fairy satin shoes buckled with crescents of iridescent pearls. " What ill news do you bring, girl ? " demanded Ivatherine, seating herself once more beside the gilded tea-poy, and laying her delicate bare arm across an open letter which lay upon it. " Oh, lady, you know, you know already ! " said Barb. "' Something dreadful has happened, or you would not look so." " Something has happened," said Katherine, in a faint voice, " and it appears that all the world knew that it was to happen, and no one thought it worth while to warn me in time." "You have found out that he loves Barbara Pome- roy," faltered Barb, "but that isn't what I wished most to say to you." 206 A PMINCESS OF EAETB AND HEAVEN. The lady lifted her arm and looked at the letter with a strange smile. " Ah, yes ! " sighed she. " He loves her how he loves her ! " " I wished to put you on your guard," said Barb, weeping. " I've known Barry a long while, and he has sported with her love so cruelly, that I am per- fectly sure she means to take some dreadful revenge on you or on him." Katherine waved her hand impatiently. "I know all this already," said she, in a hollow voice. " She will take no vengeance upon him, she has wreaked it all upon me." She thrust her beautiful hands into her hair, and bending over the letter, forgot Barb's presence ; and a long, death-like silence ensued. Barb wept bitterly, but wiped the tears away as fast as they fell, restraining her sobs, lest she should disturb the unhappy bride-elect. What had Barry done ? AVhat was this letter which moved her so ? At last, Mr. Roscoe tapped at the door, calling anxiously: " Miss Hendrick, what is the matter ? I don't hear you speak." She started, looking about her in a bewildered way, then seeing Barb, and recollecting her surroundings, A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 207 she rose slowly, moaning to herself : " No peace ! no peace ! " She opened the door as before, just enough to speak through. " Do go away, Lionel ! " said she, bitterly. " Why do you haunt me ? " " Has she told you, Kate ? " said he, his deep voice shaking. " Oh, yes ; I know all ! " answered she, with forced composure. " Shocking ! Is it not ? " " Oh ! Kate, let me see you, dear ! " exclaimed he, impetuously. " This is too much for you. Come out here and let me comfort you." "No! no!" muttered' she, shrinking back. "I can't see anybody. How the world will laugh at me to-morrow, won't it, Lionel ? " she added, a pecu- liarly ghastly smile playing on her bloodless fea- tures. " Don't think of that, Katherine ; be thankful that you have escaped him, and that this marriage, which would have doomed you to a life of misery, will never take place." " Never ! Never ! " echoed Katherine, wringing her hands. " Shall I bring your mother ? " asked Mr. Roscoe, piteously. Katherine threw a glance into the radiant dress- 208 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. ing-room, and another at the open letter lying where she had laid it, and gasped out : " No, no ! Not to-night ! Leave me leave them all in peace this one night more. It is enough that grief and disgrace should come with the dawn of daylight ! " " The girl need not torture you any longer with her presence, need she ? " inquired her cousin. "No," said Katherine, "you may take her away." She stopped, for Barb's little hands fell hot and nervous upon her arm. " .Don't send me away ! " pleaded she, vehemently. "I'm afraid afraid to leave you alone. Let me watch by you." Katherine glanced at her vacantly, but half com- prehending her words. "What does she say?" inquired Roscoe, curi- ously. " I don't know," said Katherine. " I think she wants to stay with me." "Nonsense!" said Boscoe, in a shocked voice. " Send the insolent wretch away immediately." " No ! no ! no ! " cried Barb, looking up in the lady's large fathomless eyes, in an agony of en- treaty. " Let me stay with you to-night. I'm afraid of Barry Pomeroy ! Oh, let me stay here to save her from crime and you from danger ! " A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 209 Katherine's glance grew less distraught ; she lis- tened with attention to this. " Do you expect my rival to murder me to-night ? " said she, in measured tones. " You need not ; she has taken a vengeance far more cruel upon me. However, since I see that you are really alarmed, and that you would only arouse the house if I sent you away, you shall have your wish. You shall stay with me to-night, npon condition that you sleep on a sofa in the parlor, and don't come near me unless I call you." " Thank you," murmured Barb, gratefully. Ivatherine opened the door again. " I wish this girl to remain with me to-night," said she. "Make no objections, for I must and will have it so ; she has much to tell me before I sleep this night." " You amaze me ! " said Mr. Roscoe, in horror. " Are you sure you can trust yourself with her ? " " I am safer with her than with myself," said Kathe- rine. " Do leave me, please, and madden me no more by your continual objections!" This she cried with such a sudden frantic outburst of impatience that Ror.coe was cowed, and ventured to oppose her no longer , " I shall, w r ith your permission, stay in your parlor to-night," said he. 210 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. " You can't," said she, " she is to sleep there." " I shall be within hearing somewhere," answered he, doggedly, " if anything happens, call me." "Nothing shall happen," said she, between her teeth, " that you can prevent." She then put out her hand through the narrow slit, whispering, with a sob : " Good-night, Lionel ! Good-night!" lie pressed it fervently and held it, muttering : " The wretch ! But he shall pay for this dearly ! " " Go ! " cried she, shrilly. " You only know how to torture me ! " And she shut the door in his face, and throwing herself into her chair, leaned her head upon the little table where the open letter lay, and there remained motionless, as if dead. Barb watched her in awed silence for a long, long while ; then her tender pity burst through all barriers; and, kneeling at her side, she wound her arms about the unhappy lady's waist, exclaiming : " Oh, Miss Hendrick, give him up willingly, cos' Jesus asks ye to, and then He'll help ye to bear yer sorrow, sure ! " The belle of many balls roused herself, shuddering. " My prayers," muttered she, huskily. " Yes, I must not forget them to-night. Great God ! has it come to this ! " She rose, scarcely noticing her simple comforter, A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 211 and paced up and down her beautiful room, her white lips moving voicelessly. Suddenly she stopped, with a bitter wintry smile of scorn. " He does not hear me; bah! prayers are not for the proud, whose pride is blasted," she said. " Heigh ho ! my day is done, now for my night. Little one," she exclaimed, turning abruptly to Barb, with a kind- ness all the more winning, that it came out of her un- utterable suffering. "Blighted pride is hard to bear, but blighted love is harder. I thought I had no heart I gloried that I had no heart. (Take these, child) " she was undressing, and had handed Barb some laces " but, to-night, I have learned differ- ently. Alas ! alas ! I loved him, little one ; he was sweet, - sweet, to my love-honored soul ! I could have parted with my beauty (put these in yonder casket) I could have parted with my popularity, my wealth anything but his love ! Oh, fond, blind fool, to build my all upon a mortal ! " " Sweet lady, there is One who never deceives us," sobbed little Barb. " Too late, He despises my folly too late ! " groaned Katheri'ne. " Hush, child, you are mistaken, the meek and the simple may make comfort in such thoughts, but not the desperate ! Don't weep so. Ah, for tears like 212 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. hers ! Fetch me a string of pearls from the jewel case in that room. His present to his bride ! Ha ! ha ! And -she shall wear them, too ! Oh, Harrison ! Harrison ! Harrison ! Blinded with tears, Barb went and fetched the open casket, on which reposed, lapped in blush-rose satin y a magnificent necklace of starry pearls, tied with a gold cord and tassels. Katherine received it from her with a terrible eagerness which she remembered afterward, with many a vain tear that hers should have been the hand which offered it. The miserable bride-elect lifted the beautiful thing, and passed it through her long, ivory-like fingers, ex- amining the massive gold setting as each gem in turn, and at last, holding up the shimmering bauble which gleamed like a string of lights, with a frenzied smile of exultation : "His gift!" whispered she, too utterly absorbed to heed her listener. " He shall know that I loved him, when he hears that I wore them to-night ! Pre- cious precious gift ! " She kissed the gems wildly. Barb looked on ; a chill sense of inexplicable fear upon her. " It is late," she ventured; " do let me put you to bed. Sleep will do you good. Oh, that you could A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. 213 have rest the best kind of rest, dear Miss Hen- drick!" "It is time to sleep to be at rest," answered Katherine, and she finished her toilet, having placed the string of pearls upon the open letter. " I don't know who you are," said she, turning to Barb, " but I think you have felt for me to-night. I am a proud woman, and I could not accept my pa- rents' pity, or the hard world's condolence I can accept yours, because you are too humble to feel any superiority while you give it. 1 thank you for your kindness. You will never regret having shown it to the heart-broken Katherine Hendrick. And now, good-night ! " She drew Barb toward her, kissed her on the fore- head, and gently pushed her from the room, closing the door softly behind her. Barb gathered her shawl around her, lowered the gas, and sitting down on the carpet beside Miss ITen- drick's bed-room door, and, laying her head against the rosewood panel, began her night's vigil. She heard the muffled tramp, tramp, of Lionel Roscoe in the passage outside, and the musical tick of the bijou clock on the parlor mantel-piece, but no sound came from the lady's chamber, and gradually she lost con- sciousness, and slept. But she dreamed of a mysterious sound, such as 214 A PRINCESS OF EARTH AND HEAVEN. she had never in her life hoard, and waking with he: hair on end, and her heart throbbing wildly, she found the sounds were a reality. She rushed into Miss Hendrick's i-oom. She found her lying on her bed ; their eyes met, Barb uttered one fearful, piercing shriek, threw herself upon her there was a short, fierce struggle then she sank down senseless. CHAPTER XYI. BARRY'S REVENGE. the reader desire his memory to be re- $ freshed upon the movements of Barry Pome- "^ -J* roy in connection with Harrison Fairleigh, which were last recorded? To catch up the thread of her scheme, a reprint of her last letter to him will he necessary. He received it the day before the wed- ding, on the fourth of February. She wrote : "HARBISON: Lionel Eoscoe is mysterious. He is evidently resolved to bring Barbara Pomeroy and you together, if he can, before it is too late. Tell me once more how you love me, how you honor me ; let me read with my eyes what I have so often drunk in with my ears, all you intend to do for me for true love's sake ; and if my heart echoes to your words, as I hope it will, you shall find me in Room No. 71, Hotel, at midnight of this the fourth of Febru- ary, ready to go where you will. " For the last time, I remain, " Your faithful "BARBARA POMEROY." 216 BARRY'S REVENGE. The letter with which Fairleigh answered this crafty appeal, made only, as the reader guesses, to force the deluded fool to commit his perfidy to paper, ran in the following high pressure style : " MY BARBARA : For surely Satan himself would be too merciful to snatch you from me now what can I say to prove the intensity of my passion for you that I have not said a thousand times with more burning fervor my lips upon your white hand than I can ever hope to write it ? Oh, Barbara Pomeroy ! you know too well the unutterable power you have over me ; that for love of you I am ready, nay, eager, to throw behind me all that makes men's lives worth the living honor, the world's approval, social posi- tion, even to my sworn faith with Katherine Ilendrick. Can man do more for woman than this ? And in the anticipation of the bliss of calling you my wife, I glory in the opportunity of thus manifesting the de- votion which has so long consumed me. The sneers of the world, the fury of Miss Ilendrick, the darken- ing of all my future prospects seem as a mere breath compared with the ecstacy of the happiness I purchase at their expense. If you will deign to be my wife, sweet Barbara Pomeroy, I shall count myself the most enviable man alive ; and despising all I once held precious, will seek felicity in your dear love, till BARRY'S REVENGE. 217 ruthless death wrests us from each other's arms. Yes, my queen, I meet you at midnight, no more to part. My particular friend, the Rev. Horace Dallas, will accompany me to the hotel, to tie the indissolu- ble bonds which will make us one forever. Till then, my first, my last, my only beloved, beside whom all others pale into repulsive spectres, farewell, from him whom you have taught to adore you only too well. " HAKRISON." This missive we have seen Barry place in Kathe- rine Hendrick's hand ; this missive we have seen Katherine Hendrick bow over, broken-hearted. Well, did Barry keep her promise to the man she had lured to this abyss of perfidy ? Your attention here> if you please ; the spectacle will not detain yon long. In a private parlor of one of the fine yet more se- cluded hotels of the city, a lady, young, gloriously beautiful, and richly dressed, paced slowly up and down the softly carpeted floor, glancing at her jew- eled watch from time to time, with eyes which flashed with a weird and eerie light. The dead black silk dress she wore, falling in rich, heavy, unornamented folds to her feet and rustling softly as she walked with velvet tread, seemed to throw the pallor of her countenance into startling relief.* Or was it the surap- 10 218 BARRY'S REVENGE. tuons crimson of her full lips, or the vivid stain of rose on either cheek, that made Barbara Pomeroy look so wildly beautiful, even though so fearfully wan ? Sometimes as she passed she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the long mirrors ; then she would pause, with a dread smile curling round her roseate mouth, and plunge her glittering eyes into the great fathomless orbs which returned her gaze from the depths of the mirror solemnly; or she would view her magnificent person slowly, from regal head, crowned with its coronet of ebony braids, to her arched bottine of black satin, her breath coming in long, slow gasps the while ; or she would dash up the flowing, lace- lined sleeves of her dress, and pass her hands over her delicate, blue-veined arms, and then she would smile a strange smile, and shiver as if an icy wind had struck her to the heart ! Once she lifted her dangling chain and looked at a tiny golden bauble which hung from it, and as the bright gaslight set its facets a-glittering, she dropped it with a single deep sob, and clasped her trembling hands across her eyes, as if its sheen had dazzled her. " Oh, mother, mother, mother ! " groaned Barry Pomeroy. " If you had strangled me at my birth, it would have been better for me ! " A tap at the door. BARRY'S REVENGE. 219 " He is here," said Barry Pomeroy, and turned to greet her lover with a glorious love-smile. He took her death-cold hand his own was burn- ing like his passion-crazed brain, and he presented to her his confidential friend, the Rev. Horace Dal- las, a college chum of his, with an eager pride in her and triumph in his approaching possession of her, that seemed nothing more than natural, even to the dispassionate young clergyman the instant he had set his eyes upon her, though only a minute since he had been remonstrating with Fairleigh on his madness. " You are not regretting ? " whispered Harrison, feverishly, as her wonderful eyes rested upon his in a deep, unsmiling gaze. " No," breathed she ; " this night is the culmina- tion of my life. For sake of this night I could con- sent never to live another." " God forbid ! " aspirated he, hanging over her with looks of delicious adoration. " I have bought you too dearly to lose you, Barbara, and yet the sa- crifice was nothing nothing, compared with the bliss of this moment." " You have bought me dearly indeed," echoed she, a singular thrill in her cooing tones, " and I have won you as dearly. What I am you have made me ; always remember that, Harrison. You know best what I once was." 220 BARRY'S REVENGE. And this chill truth, falling flat on his hot love, sent a ghastly shudder through all his frame, and blanched his glowing face. Then it was that Mr. Dallas bade them stand be- fore him, and in a few words bound them together for better, for worse, till death should part them. As he called upon Heaven to bless their union, the husband and wife turned and looked into each other's very souls. What read Harrison Fairleigh in those mystic depths that froze the fiery kiss upon his bending lips, and wrung from his exulting heart a gasp of name- less terror ! Whatever it was, it passed in a moment, and the languorous light of love beamed instead from her eyes. They were alone at last. " Never more to part ! " breathed he, drunk with his own ecstasy. " Fold me close, dear," whispered she, yielding her velvet lips in a divine sigh to his, for the first time ; " and oh, love me, love me, love me ! for I have lost my soul for this one hour ! " ******* " Barbara ! " " My beloved ! " "' You are strangely weary ! " " Do I seem so, Harrison ? I am not weary of you ! " BARRY'S REVENGE. 221 " Your dear cheek is pale as a drenched water- lily ! " " Happiness, love ! Oh, think of nothing yet but how much we love each other ! " He folded her again to his o'er-f raught heart ; his whole soul was permeated with that rapture of felicity which is only to be drunk from the brimming cup of true love ; his heart was softened ; his nature was ennobled. It was the turning point in Harrison Fairleigh's life ; from that hour he might have fared on life's dusty way a repentant man a good man. They were driving in his carriage to the beautiful home he had prepared for Katherine Hendrick ; for thither, in Barry's wild lust for vengeance, she had induced him to bear his low-borif bride, that his in- fatuation might blazon itself forth the more shame- lessly, and Katherine be yet more brutally humiliated. The whistling wind of that winter night blew sharp- edged through the sumptuous velvets of the richly appointed carriage, and seemed to chill the syren as she lay on his breast, even through all the costly furs which her lover kept carefully round her ; even through all the burning kisses which he took from her paling lips, and pressed upon her passionate eyes, and chilling satin cheek. Was this love-elixir too strong for the woman, now that she had given herself up to the drinking of it, 222 BARRY'S REVENGE. in the perfect abandon of one who, as she had said, had lost her very soul for that one hour? Or was it that the mighty love this poor creature was cursed with for this, her miserably imheroic lover, turned upon her in its fulfilment, and blasted her with its baleful intensity, annihilating her in its short-lived consummation ? " Barry, surely you are ill ? " " No, love, no ! I shall never be better in my life nor happier ! " " So white, dear ! Tour very lips sweet lips that thrill my every vein with rapture ! love, there is a strange lustre in these dear eyes, as if the spirit stood very close behind them, looking out. Barry Barry speak to me, my darling, I am afraid ! " " Not of me, Harrison ? " " Heavens ! She is too faint to speak aloud ! Oh, my angel, love, what have I done ? " " It is nothing ; be at peace again. This happiness is sweet, sweet, too deliriously sweet to last forever let us enjoy every heart-beat of it while we may." " What should end it, my wife? " " His wife ! O God ! am I his wife at last ! and this hour is all." She burst into a suppressed shriek, and folding her arms round his neck, almost suffocated him with the convulsive strength of her embrace. In startled BARRY'S REVENGE. 223 terror he held her to his breast as she sank down anon, her clasp relaxing, her lips whitening awfully : and pouring forth the most eloquent endearments, besought her to tell him what she felt, or what she meant, or at least to give him some assurance that she loved him truly, and would never remember against him the outrageous insult he had in times past offered her. Presently her glazing eyes opened, she looked up at him with an anguished smile. " I am faint, my husband," breathed she, in ac- cents almost inaudible. " I would fain be at rest in our new home. Tell them to drive faster faster, for, oh, the time is passing, and 1 have much to say ! " So, with the chill of death at his boding beart, he ordered them to speed, and gathering her sinking form close close to his breast, receiving her flutter- ing breath on a cheek that was now as white as her own. For oh ! he could no longer shut out the grisly presentiment of retribution swift and sure, overwhelm- ing him in the very flush of triumph, crushing him in this, the best, the most joyous moment of his life! lie saw in terror and dismay unimaginable the phan- tom of despair drawing nearer with every muffled heart-beat, stretching out its ruthless hand to part him from her for whose sake he had steeped hia name in infamy, his soul in guilt. 224 BARRY'S REVENGE. They reached the mansion. His confidential ser vant was ready for them ; they were received with stately honor servants meeting them with deep obeisances and well-conned speeches of welcome, lights blazing, rooms warm and odorous as a Summer morn- ing all prepared for the bride and bridegroom, just as it would have been had that wan, dim-eyed shape that hung on his arms been the queenly daughter of Baron Hendrick. He bore her to the bridal-chamber, and laid her on the sacred couch. She kept her sweet eyes fixed on his as if they would grow to them. From time to time a death-like faintness seemed to dim her vision and drench her lovely face with the fatal dews which come but once ; but even then her glance never fal- tered, nor did the fixed smile fade from her pale lips. He untied the magnificent Russian sable which wrapped her from head to foot, and snatching the restoratives from the hand of the maid he had sum- moned to his aid, strove to bring back her vanished strength, while he prayed her, in heart-rending accents, to tell him what he could do for her. " Are we alone ? " gasped she. A motion of his sent the wondering throng of at- tendants from the room, with the door respectfully closed. " Yes, my own sweet wife, you and I are heart to BARRY'S REVENGE. 225 heart, only God our witness. What have you to say to me, Barry ? " She raised herself from his clinging arms, and passing one shaking hand over her fast benumbing face, uttered a low, shuddering moan. " Harrison," said she, fixing her gaze once more upon him with terrible intensity, "you would far rather die than lose me now, would you not ? " " God knows I would ! " cried he. " You have ruined yourself to obtain possession of me," she continued. "Henceforth all honorable men will hold you in bitter loathing, all proud women will laugh at you for a deluded fool. If you had simply ruined me, you would have been held blame- less ; but that you should have ruined yourself to win a wife like me honorably ah, that is unpardonable. Let me speak, I pray you ; I have so little time. Oh, Harrison ! why did you not do me this justice at first ? Why did you require me to goad you on, through all the shameful dissimulations and cowardices which have blackened your footsteps up to this hour ? Had you no eyes to read the fatal truth that I was luring, luring you on step by step, staining your honor for you, blazoning your folly for you, rendering repen- tance only ridiculous, and remorse vain, that I might take fitting vengeance upon the man who twice at- tempted to sacrifice a trusting woman to his lust ! " 10* 226 BAEItY'S REVENGE. It was said : the hideous truth was out at last ; and as the monstrous words dropped slowly from her fading lips, the blistering tide of shame spread over her death-stricken face, and at the end she hid it on his stunned heart, and winding her feeble arms about him, wept, poor soul, as if tears could blot out her guilt. What thought Harrison Fairleigh then ? For a time earth and heaven reeled before him ; he stood mute as if lightning-struck. This woman, whom he still held mechanically in his arms this creature who had coiled herself round his heart with such insidious power, in whose mad love he had gloried, whose invincible chastity he had venerated, libertine though he was, giving her only the deeper adoration because of it this sorceress, for whose sake he had lost the world, counting it but dross to the possession of her had, oh, unendurable villainy ! but played with him to glut her hellish revenge ! " My God ! " groaned he at last, thrusting her from him with such fierce violence that she fell in a heap on the white satin bed, her long black tresses floating about her like a pall ; " my God ! can this be ? Oh, girl, could you not see that you held my very soul in your hand that for your sake I could be angel or devil, whichever you chose to make me ? " She answered him nothing; her eyes were closed, BARRY'S REVENGE. 227 a frightful convulsion distorted her bloodless coun- tenance, her clasped hands worked spasmodically. Harrison saw a crimson stain dyeing the glistening purity of the satin coverlet. He bent over it ; he saw that it was blood. A piercing cry broke from him once again he snatched her to his breast, and covered her cold mouth with wild kisses. She opened her sightless eyes for the last time, and gave him her last love-look, her last adoring love- smile. " And yet," she faltered, in quivering tones, " I loved you all the while, my darling my darling. So dearly, that rather than live to reap the whirlwind which we two have sown, I've called in death to save us. Kiss me once more, my lover, before my lips grow numb, and my heart ceases to thrill at your touch. Hold me up to your breast, dear; tell me how you love me, poor Barry, whom you have made what she is ! " " Is there no hope, oh ! my poor love ? " wept Harrison, in frenzied imploration. " Let me save you, sweet. Oh, you cruel girl ! can you leave me novp ? " " I must ! " she shivered out, while the great tears of bitter anguish rolled down her ghastly face. " I did not think it would have been so hard to go. 1 thought you would have cursed me and taken your love from me, and I dared not live without it!" 228 BARRY'S REVENGE. "My God! can I not save her yet?" shrieked Harrison ; and he would have rushed to summon as- sistance, but she held him with her feeble clasp, and moaned with agonized tenderness: " Don't leave me, husband ! Give me these few last moments. Death is so near that I scarce can see you now, and I would die with your eyes pouring love and forgiveness into mine. No, beloved, noth- ing can be done any more for lost Barry Fairleigh," she uttered the name with a ghost of a smile of pleas- ure. " As soon as we were married, while I was put- ting on my wraps, I opened a vein in my arm with my gold penknife, and I have been bleeding to-death ever since." So, then, these unfortunates clasped each other in a last embrace, and so ebbed her life away. CHAPTER XVII. LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. SENSATION of nipping cold, a struggle for breath, as if a mountain lay on lier breast, a blurred light growing brighter and brighter, and little Barb Pomeroy came back to con- sciousness at last, and sprang up with a bewildered cry. She recognized the room Miss Ilendrick's pri- vate parlor and the white, shocked face which bent over her, as Mrs. Archer's, the housekeeper ; and, too, the smothered ejaculations, sobs, and confusion which came from the inner chamber as the results of the fearful scene she had taken such dread part in a few minutes ago. " Oh ! " cried Barb, piteously, is she dead ? " Mrs. Archer recoiled from her with a look of loathing, and, beckoning to some one to approach, gave place, drawing her skirts around her, as one might from some foul contagion. The next instant Barb's arm was grasped in a strong grip, and, turning in affright, she saw a con- stable at her side. 230 LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. At that moment Roscoe entered from the inner room, and seeing the poor girl in the hands of .the officer, said, with a visible shudder : " Take her away ! Quick ! Don't have her here to blast the eyes of the mother ! " and with a gesture of vehement impatience he waved her away as if she was some noxious animal. Little Barb knew now what all this meant. They suspected her of the murder of Katherine liendrick. She stood stupidly staring at Mr. lioscoe, eyes and mouth open, her features rigid, the very personifica- tion of apathetic guilt. " Hush ! " said Roscoe, with a look of apprehension, " do I not hear her coming ? " They all listened, little Barb taking no meaning out of the sounds of hurried footsteps and breathless ejaculations, and suppressed cries which came from the hall ; and anon the door was violently flung open, and the baroness, supported by her female attendant, and closely followed by the baron, burst into their daughter's boudoir. " What has happened ? "Where is Katherine ? " cried the unfortunate mother, in vehement excite- ment. " I can understand nothing. What is it, Lionel? The baron won't make himself intelli- gible." "For God's sake prepare her, I can't! " said her LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. 231 husband, hoarsely. "And what's she doing here yet? Has no one the humanity to arrest my daughter's " lie paused here, Lionel's hand was on his mouth, and little Barb had uttered a bitter cry, and thrown her- self at the baroness's feet. " His daughter's lohat ? " demanded the lady, with sudden calmness. No one anwered. " Stay, I shall see for myself ! " cried she, sweeping across the room with the evident inten tion of- enter- ing Katharine's bed-room forthwith. Even the accused girl sprang up and attempted to bar her way, forgetting her own danger for the mo- ment in the horror of the expected revelation which would meet the unconscious mother's eye. Every soul in the room participated in her excite- ment, her captor not excepted, though he could not re- frain from an internal throe of amazement at the " cheek " of the young murderess in getting up such a show of sympathetic sensibility, with her ghastly work lying a few feet away. " Who is this ? " demanded the baroness, stopping short. A motion of Roscoe's sent the constable to the little creature's side with a touch on her arm. A wild shriek rang out. It was the mother's cry of comprehension. 232 LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. " Something has been done to Katherine thia girl O Heaven ! where is ray poor darling?" " Madam, " said Barb Pomeroy, and there was that in her voice, low and tremulous though it was, that forced the lady to listen, and stayed the irritated offi- cer's professional urgency, " your daughter will never know earthly sorrow any more God pity and for- give her ! but not by my hand, lady not by my hand has she been thrust out of the world." The poor woman gazed vacantly at her for a mo- ment or two; then, dead-calm, pushed her aside, and entered her daughter's chamber. Oh, that fearful cry ! "While it yet rang in her ears with a terror never to be forgotten, Barb was hurried from the house. A quarter of an hour afterwards, and the walls of a criminal's prison had closed upon her. ******* "What a windfall Katherine Hendrick's death was to the newspapers of the day ! It was given to the public with all the graphic power of which their local editors' practised pens were capable. Strangled by the tiny hand of a jealous rival, twisted in a string of pearls the bridegroom's wed- ding gift ! A rival picked up by her noble cousin off the boards of a theatre out of the very ballet corps ! How the eager writers revelled in the piteous de- LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. 233 tails; portrayed the secret interview between the murderess and her victim ; pictured every hideous item of the death-bed scene ; the appearance of the dead bride-elect exquisitely beautiful even in death with the princely gift of her perfidious lover twined around her slender throat with the horrid tightness of a thug's cord, and held by the child-like hand of her ruthless rival ; the bitter vengeance of the illus- trious father, growing in fatal intensity every day, the heart-rending grief of the once gay and popular lady mother, who could not be induced to leave the side of her dead, but sat all day long gazing on her face without motion, without apparent fatigue, without the will or the power to tear her eyes away, though the blight of speedy dissolution seemed to be falling upon her own wasting form. With all these fearful details were the greedy public amused, the friends sickened, and the whole city lashed into a fury of impatience for the elucidation of the myste- rious circumstances which had led to the murder, and the execution of the murderess. In the meanwhile, a curious complication had arisen, in the fact, which was at first half incredu- lously whispered about, but soon came to be prove'd beyond a doubt, that the bridegroom and his mother's adopted daughter, Marah Leith, was missing. Little by little those facts, which were known to 234 LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. this and the other leaked out ; the legal marriage of the pair by his friend, Mr. Dallas, who at once came forward to avow it ; their subsequent appearance at the house on the Hudson ; the fatal indisposition of the young lady, etc ; and, as culmination of the whole monstrous tale, the assertion made by Mr. Fairloigh's servants, that next morning their master and his unexpected bride were nowhere to be found. ISTow what was to be thought of this ? Wild were the opinions hazarded ; but none were half so wild as the reality. The errant pair were carefully sought by those most competent to the task, and all their ingenuity was in vain they had left no trace behind. "When the lovely Katherine was carried to her gilded mausoleum, followed by a mile's length of the notables of the city, and the glittering gates were closed upon her dust, Barb's case stood thus : She had been caught in the very act of murdering Katherine Ilendrick. Several weeks previously she had been seen by Lionel Roscoe speaking to Harrison Fairleigh in Madison Square, and heard to say : " Beware of Barbara Pomeroy ! " She was known to have been intimate with Marah Leith, and to have visited her frequently at Mrs Fair- leigh's house. LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. 235 Her antecedents were found to be of the lowest order. She had been reared by a noted pair of thieves in a quarter of the city given over to the irre- claiinably vicious ; had been easily bought of them by young Mr. Roscoe, whose motive, as it happened, was a virtuous one, though no one but himself had known that ; her rescue had been attempted by some unknown young man who was now, like Mr. Fair- leigh and Miss Leith, nowhere to be found ; she had ceased her resistance to the capture whenever she knew that it was to Miss Ilendrick's house that he intended to bring her ; she had ardently wished for the interview; had worked in some unknown manner upon Miss Ilendrick's mind, so that she, who at first could scarcely be prevailed upon to see her, presently begged Mr. Roscoe to leave them alone together for the night ; and then the murder ! And had she no friends to stand up for her in this her black hour of terror ? Yes, she had one He was omniscient in heaven ; and she had one she was true as gold on earth. Mrs. Fairleigh came to little Barbara the morning after the tragedy ; and, finding her pouring out her tempest-tossed heart to her other Friend, kneeled down beside her, put her tender arm around her, and wept and prayed in eloquent silence with her, and so comforted the trembling little one and herself in one 236 LITTLE BARB BEAKS THE BRUNT. bitter-sweet ecstasy of human love and divine trust. Then, lying on her breast, the child told all she had to tell ; and this, with many tears of bitter regret, that she had not confided it to the good old lady before, was Barry Pomeroy's story. The lady heard with grief and amazement unutter- able What ? Her Marah capable of imposture, re- venge, intrigue, and above all, of betraying this, her too faithful friend, into the foul hands of those worse than fiends, who would have ruined her, body and soul ! The sweet soul heard, aghast. It was all but impossible for her to take the monstrous reality in ; her ideas of right and wrong were so sharply de- fined, that but to swerve a step from one was to enter the other ; she, who had never been tempted as poor Barry had been, with a nature like a smoulder- ing volcano to begin with, could not now comprehend how that hapless creature could have so deceived her, and not be a hypocrite in the deliberate exercise of her hyprocrisy, and capable of anything, even to the leaving of her simple friend Barb, to perish for the crime of which she herself had long been guilty in heart. In vain the untaught girl of the people strove to rend the vail of the highly nurtured lady's prejudice, and show her the intricate workings of Barbara's misguided heart, which once, pure as Henrietta Fair- LITTLE BARB BEARS THE BRUNT. 237 leiglrs own, had passed through all the tragic phases between, till it was what it was to-day. But, as these two talked of wicked Barry Pomeroy and her impostures, it never once entered into their minds that she might have already passed to the greatest tribunal of all that Barry might be dead ! Mrs. Fairleigh went from the prison to the office of an eminent counsel, and placed her darling's case in his hands, with the solemn adjuration to save her, or be guilty of innocent blood. And then the days dragged on ; and the papers teemed with fresh items every day : and the lady mothers pined, each in her luxurious abode, while the baron raged and fumed at the tardiness of j ustice ; and the prisoner languished in her lonely cell, and ordered her heart to bear its burden meekly ; and the search went on for the missing ones ; ah, yes ! time passed strangely, and deathly sad till the end came. CHAPTER XVIII. HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. trial drew on apace ; evidence was col- lected for and against the prisoner quietly and steadily : witnesses were summoned to appear at the coming examination by the lawyers en- gaged on either side ; and oh ! how the hearts of the two lady mothers swelled and sickened in anticipa- tion, the baroness's, of her daughter's death being fitly expiated ; Mrs. Fairleigh's, of the possible sacrifice of the innocent girl whom she loved ! The latter lady, perhaps, had the heaviest burden of the two to bear. Her son it was through whom all this misery, crime, and injustice had come to pass; she herself, too, was deeply to blame, inasmuch as she had allowed herself to be duped by a designing woman, who had simply made use of her as a means to her own ends. Of course the Baron and Baroness Ilendrick were incapable of the magnanimity of keeping up the friendship between themselves and Mrs. Fairleigh, HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 239 and of sharing each other's burdens ; in their wrath at the foul play of her son, and in their horror at the girl whom Mrs. Fairleigh so outraged them by be- friending, all sympathy with her share of the afflic- tion was forgotten, and they raged and raved against her as if she was as black as the murderess herself. The morning broke brilliant with spring sunshine that morning which was to place poor Barb Pom- eroy at the bar of the court to plead for her life. The child sat in her chilly cell, her trembling hands clasped close, close in those of her one earthly friend, Mrs. Fairleigh, and her meek head pillow r ed upon her breast. The sweet old lady had been with her as constantly as the rules of the prison would per- mit ever since she had been committed for trial; and to-day she had come at dawn, and devoted herself to the sacred task of encouraging and inspiring the un- fortunate little one whose very blood seemed to chill in her veins at the near approach of her dreaded ap- pearance before a public tribunal. There was a weary change on both the women ; these past months of sorrow and suspense had sharp- ened both the aged and youthful counte'iances, and blenched them to the same dull parlor ; while the dim eyes of Mrs. Fairleigh and the dewy ones of Barb reflected the same haunting look of anxiety. But look beneath these evidences of natural feminine agi- 24-0 HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. tation, and yon might search far before you would find a more heroic under-deep of trust in the front of all the peril than in these pale faces. The lady's tender kindness had provided many ameliorations of the rigor of Barb's imprisonment ; a square of soft, bright carpet almost covered the yellow boards of her floor ; several pictures adorned the whitewashed walls ; the bed was draped with pure white, and flowers bloomed here and there, shedding their rich perfume a harrowing remin- iscence of meadows and sunshine for the poor cap- tive. " It will indeed be a trying ordeal," said Mrs. Fair- leigh, with a weary sigh, " but our sweet little lamb is not going to be sacrificed unless our Shepherd wants her for His glorious fold in Heaven, and no, no ! He could never desire His dear one to pass to Him through such a terrible gate!" Here she buried her face in the girl's soft, yellow hair, to conceal the throe of agony which this idea called upon it. "Has nothing been heard of poor Barry's mother yet nothing ? " asked Barb, presently ; for apart from the importance to her of such a witness coming forward to testify to the truth of half her defence, Barb endured the keenest anxiety concerning the dis- appearance of the unhappy mother whose daughter HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 24-1 had repudiated her and turned unmoved from her gray hairs. " Nothing," sighed Mrs. Fairleigh ; " nor of your friend, Dr. Wayne, neither. Alas ! never was inno- cence more helpless ! Yet fear not, my little Barb, fear not. Ah, the hour has come ! Courage courage ! " A heavy knock sounded at the door ; the governor of the prison and his attendants had come to conduct the prisoner to the bar. With him entered a venerable clergyman, a friend of Mrs, Fairleigh's, who had visited Barb faithfully ever since her arrest. While Mrs. Fairleigh carefully arranged some trifling disorder in the young girl's dress (for she had striven with trembling care to en- hance all the natural sweetness of Barb's appearance, knowing well how little often influences a jury), Mr. Ogilvy uttered a few words of such manly cheerful- ness and hope that the quailing child nerved herself to what was before her with a sudden rush of confi- dence in the righteousness of her cause, and presently followed the officials out to the coach, almost with tranquillity. Her two friends kept by her side, and when at length she was brought into court and placed in the dock, they sat close beside it, ready to receive her first glance, and to smile encouragement upon her. 11 242 HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. Every nook was crowded to suffocation, the case had been canvassed by the public too long and excitedly not to draw forth a throng unusual even in the annals of murder trials. As the prisoner entered a small, blonde, meek, saintly-faced creature, scarce more than a child a murmur and stir ran through the crowd, and eye sought eye in amazed questioning. Was this a murderess this modest, drooping, black- draped girl, with virgin purity upon her downcast countenance, and tender beauty in every shy move- ment ? Where were the malformed head, the lowering eye, the fugitive side-glance, the cringing attitude, the usual and proper semblance of the blood-shedder ? No wonder the people whispered and jostled to gain a clearer view of the being who so flatly con- tradicted all the rules of criminal impersonation. The Baron and Baroness Hendrick, Lionel Roscoe, and many of their friends sat in a conspicuous part of the court, where they could command a full view of the prisoner ; and as her shrinking eyes turned round the sea of upraised faces and rested in recog- nition upon theirs, she grew pale as death, for such bitter animosity And scorn and loathing sure never was poured on helpless mortal before ! Seeing her thus overcome, and obliged to lean her swaying form HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 243 upon the rail in front of the dock, the baron and baroness nodded to each other in bitter significance, and cast looks of eager import toward the gentlemen of the jury, hoping that they, too, had observed and interpreted, as they themselves had, the prisoner'? agitation. But Roscoe bent forward in his seat, gnawing his lip and knitting his brows, and for many minutes did not lift his gaze from Barb's countenance. The indictment was read amidst profound silence, and the question asked the accused : "Prisoner at the bar, do you plead guilty or not guilty to the charge \ " Barb knew this was coming, and had nerved her- self to answer it calmly. A strange thrill ran through all who heard her low, modest voice exclaiming : " Not guilty, so help me God ! " In such accents might the purest infant of any parent there have spoken. Hush ! how sweet and frail she is ! God keep us, gentlemen, from the seduc- tive snares of a siren ! So mused the people ; and Lionel Roscoe drew a deep breath, as if his rising heart threatened to choke him with its hard, hot beating. The case was now duly opened by the counsel for the prosecution. It may be as well to give in our own words a re- 244 HOW APPEARANCES WEEE READ. hash of the learned gentleman's speech, which held the court in breathless attention for almost an hour ; it was in effect a recapitulation of Barb's history, with which we are already acquainted, but so dis- torted and misapprehended throughout, that it might quite as appropriately have been the history of the blackest wretch ever exposed, as that of our simple girl of the people. Here is his account, abbreviated : Eighteen months ago, two young girls came to the Home for the Friendless a charitable institution in Street ; their names were Marah Leith and Bar- bara Pomeroy ; they were out of employment, and ready for anything the matron had to offer. She had nothing at the time to offer, but at the end of a week or so, a lady, Mrs. Farrleigh, (tailed in search of a young .girl suitable for adoption. She chose Marah Leith, and took her home ; and Barbara, partly through her assistance, obtained respectable employ- ment as a dressmaker. All went on with apparent harmony in Mrs. Fairleigh's home, and the dress- maker's humble abode for upward of a year ; then Mr. Harrison Fairleigh returned from abroad, saw Marah Leith, and was obviously attracted from the first by her unusual beauty and mental superiority. Witnesses would be summoned to testify to the many attentions he offered her, keeping concealed, both HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 245 from Miss Leith and his mother, the fact of his en- gagement to Miss Hendrick, to whom he was to be married in a month. The accused visited Miss Lcith more frequently than usual during this period, but there was no testimony to show that she ever met Mr. Fairleigh. upon these occasions ; though there was to show that she was cognizant of the friendly intimacy between Miss Leith and him, "&nd that she earnestly disapproved of it. In the course of time Mr. Fair- leigh made his engagement known, and Mrs. Fair- leigh and Miss Leith called upon the Baroness Hen- drick and her daughter ; it would presently be shown that a spirit of bitter distrust of Miss Leith sprang up in Miss Hendrick's heart from the moment when she first beheld her, and that Miss Leith insolently strove to rouse her jealousy by parading her intimacy with Miss Hendrick's affianced husband. All this might go to prove that Miss Leith was the head in this adventure, and Barbara Pomeroy the hand, and the sequel would bear the speaker out in his opinion, he assured the court. On such and such a date, Mr. Roscoe chanced to observe his friend Mr. Fairleigh stroll into Madison Square, and presently he followed him, expecting to find him smoking his cigar and mus- ing over his approaching happiness. To his surprise, however, he discovered him in close conversation with a young woman, who, as Mr. Roscoe approached, 24:6 HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. seemed to be taking her leave, and who said, in such a manner as to lend a very sinister significance to the words, that which proved to be the first link of the chain of evidence which fastened the crime of mur- der upon her to-day. The next we saw of Barbara Pomeroy in this affair was at the masked ball given by Baroness Ilendrick in honor of her daughter's last appearance in society before her marriage. There, it would be shown how the two adventuresses comported themselves; Miss Leith, in audacious defiance of the bride-elect's super- ior claims on Mr. Fairleigh, and the accused, who had evidently stolen thither from curiosity to see Miss Ilendrick and Mr. Fairleigh together, seemingly over- awed by the unfortunate lady's exquisite beauty and grace, and slinking away at the first opportunity. From this time it would appear that the prisoner had transferred all her jealousy from her accomplice to Miss Ilendrick that believing such beauty and pas- sion invincible for on that occasion the bride-elect showed all the fervid passions of a woman in love, whose rights are trampled upon by the base she ceased to account Miss Leith any longer a rival to be feared in comparison with this fascinating lady ; and henceforth, Katherine Hendrick was a doomed wo- man. Hitherto, probably, Miss Leith had twisted the ignorant girl to her own purposes pretty much as she HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 247 chose ; it was clear that they had started fair with each other in the beginning of their connection with Mi*s. Fairleigh; that Mr. Fairleiglvs advent upon the scene was the signal for dissension between them, ending in absolute estrangement ; there was but one way to account for this state of matters namely, that the prisoner had had some acquaintance in the course of what would presently be seen was not an irreproach- able pre-history with Mr. Harrison Fairleigh; that she had hoped to recommence it upon his return to Kew York ; that Marah Leith had stepped between, ruining her chances ; and that, finally, Miss Hendrick was about to put an end to her nefarious designs on him forever, by uniting herself to him in honorable wedlock. These, the learned gentleman submitted to the gentlemen of the jury as plain and palpable motives for the foul act of which the prisoner at the bar stood accused. In the meanwhile Marah Leith was playing a game far too deep for Barbara Pomeroy's eye no less a game than that of seducing Mr. Fairleigh from his fidelity to his bride into a marriage with, herself. Unaware of this plot, the prisoner, who had returned some time previously to associates whose reputation smelled foul as any den in Water Street, was captured by Mr. Roscoe on the deceased's wedding-eve, and taken by him to the lady's house, with the hope of 248 HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. wringing from her so much of Mr. Fairleigli's private character as would save his cousin from a miserable marriage, even at this late date. Mr. Eoscoe had been anxiously searching for Bar- bara Pomeroy ever since the day he saw her in the Square, the capricious conduct of Mr. Fairleigh urg- ing him on to seek some explanation. His agents had at last discovered her living a sort of incognito existence with two old friends of hers, whose charac- ters did not do her much credit. Of these wretches Mr. Fairleigh actually bought the prisoner, who, they assured him, was frequently thus bought and sold by those who were willing to pay their price for her, she being their property. And here the lawyer paused to give the jury time to take this statement in all its enormity, and the people a chance to relieve their feelings in whispers of horror and disgust. But the prisoner was seen to turn her swimming eyes upon those of the aged lady whose soft old hand grasped hers through the railing, and to straighten her slight figure with a faint, proud smile, such as only the innocent should wear. Lionel Roscoe, too, half rose from his place with an eager gesture, but was hastily pulled down again by the junior counsel for the prosecution, and pacified by some whispered promise. The lawyer proceeded. HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 249 Mr. Hoscoe having effected his purchase, took pos- session of her when she was making her escape from the theatre, she having apparently some private in- trigue of her own choosing on hand which her ownei-s were ignorant of ; and having snatched her from the arms of an unknown young man who had never been heard of since, carried her to his hotel, where the baroness's housekeeper waited to assist him in his dis- agreeable task ; and from thence took her to the house of Baron Ilendrick. The family had retired, but Miss Ilendrick 'was still up, and when summoned to her door by her cousin, appeared in the agitated frame of mind natural to her interesting circumstances. At first she refused to be disturbed by the strange visitor, but upon Mr. Roscoe mentioning that the matter was connected with Mr. Fairleigh, she per- mitted the prisoner to enter her room. In a few minutes she announced to her anxious cousin that she would have the young girl stay that night with her, and, utterly regardless of his horrified entreaties, closed the door upon him. " Xow, gentlemen," said the counsel for the prose- cution, impressively, "by what sorcery did the pris- oner obtain this extraordinary indulgence ? Clearly by working on Miss Ilend rick's ever-latent distrust of Marah Lcith ; most likely by pretending to have something of great moment to communicate concern- 250 HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. ing her. At all events, she effected her purpose ; and with murder in her heart, and the meekness and sim- plicity of a child in her looks and words a mere trick of form and expression, gentlemen she lured her victim into such a feeling of security that she actually fell asleep upon her couch, and then per- formed the hellish work she long had meditated. At two o'clock in the morning, Mr. Roscoe, who had never ceased to pace before the door of his cousin's parlor, heard piercing screams for help. Before he could break down the door and make his way to Miss Hendrick's chamber, all was over. The lady lay on her bed with the breath choked out of her ; her hands were twined in a pearl necklace which was twisted round her throat, in a desperate struggle to loosen it, and the hand of the prisoner was found twisted in it also, but with murderous purpose, she having given way to the horror of her awful deed the moment she saw it was accomplished, and fallen across Miss Hen- drick's body insensible." Again the lawyer paused, not only too much moved himself to proceed, but out of respect to the storm of agitation which swept through the court, and the heart-rending distress of the murdered lady's parents, who both wept unrestrainedly. Great crystal tears were gushing over the transpa- rent cheeks of the accused also, and she was seen to HOW APPEARANCES WERE READ. 251 wring her friend's hand with the most finished ex- pression of grief a spectacle to which the lawyer presently called the attention of judge and jury in a burst of indignation. " In the defence you will hear much of the prison- er's gentleness, virtue, magnanimity, and all the other Christian graces. Gentlemen, it is easy for some people to impose upon the charitable and the old. The childish contour of a face, the ever-ready tear, the simulated timidity and helplessness of extreme youth all are very efficient weapons of defence when their possessor's life depends on their clever use. Hypocrisy, gentlemen, can assume any face that suits its purpose ; and what are a few tears in the appropriate place to a practised actress ? But to con- tinue. The prisoner is here charged with murder; witnesses are here to prove her guilt, to attest to her motive, and to show that this act earne but in natural sequence in a life of vice. If for once I can succeed in unveiling a criminal whose innocent seeming, cunning, simple ways will be apt to mislead the honest-hearted, unless they are forever on their guard against her wiles, I shall feel that justice is not yet dead in America, for all the sneers that are cast at her so-called partiality to the brass-faced evil-doer." With these words the lawyer sat down. CHAPTER XIX. FOE AND AGAINST. E first witness called upon the stand by the junior counsel for the prosecution was old IS T an. At sight of her bestial and half-drunken visage, her hair flying about it in ragged elf-locks, and her person filthy, and untidy in the extreme (for Mr. Kean, the counsel for the prosecution, under- stood too well the art of strengthening his case to permit this valuable witness against the accused to appear before the jury in any other than her native rags), a movement of disgust was observed to pass through the court, while the prisoner turned a\vay with a visible shudder, at which Mr. Kean and his junior, Mr. Hawksly, exchanged sarcastic glances, and the people hardened their hearts against her seeming sensibility. Having been duly sworn, old Nan turned her evil eyes around the court until they fell upon poor shrinking Barb, when she said } loud enough for every one present to hear : FOR AND AGAINST. 253 " (3h, ye poor cretur, is this wot ye've come to after all me trouble with ye! I always knew ye wor a bad lot, but I never thought to see the day when ye would disgrace me like this ! " The examination proceeded. "What is your name?" asked the junior coun- sel. "An-toy-net Blaze," answered the lady, with a tipsy leer ; " Old Nan for short, and well known an' respected by all me neighbors in Cardinal Court for a honest working woman as has seen no end " " Very good, please say nothing but in answer to my questions," said Mr. Hawksly, sternly. " When did you first become acquainted with the prisoner?" " A matter of eighteen years ago, your honor," re- plied Nan, overawed for the moment. " Where ? " queried the counsel. "Five Points," mumbled the witness, with a sinister chuckle. " She wor on'y a babby without ere a cretur to do for her, an' I has such a feel- in' heart, I tuk the little wiper home with me. Little did I think " " Never mind what you thought," interrupted Mr. Hawksly, impatiently. " How came the infant to be alone ? " " Her nurse was bringin' her out to some relashuns, but died on the way," muttered Nan, decidedly ill- 254: FOR AND AGAINST. pleased with the subordinate part she was obliged to play. " Did you know where these relations were to be found ? " continued the lawyer. " I heard, but forgot right away," said Nan, with a wink. " Sence I wasn't agoin' to give her up, why should I keep their address inter my head ? " " How did you know her name was Barbara Pomeroy ? " was the next question. " 'Cos it was marked all over her duds, it wor. No end of expense," said Nan, " them duds wos all the money's worth I ever got of her." " What was your occupation at that time ? " queried Hawksly. Nan grinned, but made no audible reply. " I dare say it won't stand scrutiny," said he, shrugging his shoulder. " Well, what did you want with the child ? " " I wanted her for to grow up a blessin' to me ! " whined Nan; "but la', I might hev knowed a love- child wouldn't turn out nothin' good." " Are you sure she was that ? " " In course she were ! " Mr. Hawksly then asked her present occupation. " Charring," replied the witness. " Anything else ? " " Am I to make a clean breast right now 2 " FOR AND AGAINST. 255 "You arc to remember that you are upon your oath, and to speak the truth accordingly." "All right: it's so d d hard to please you la\V fellows, you tell us to say so and so, and when we do you're down on us like " "Hold your tongue, you're drunk!" cried Mr. Ilawksly, furiously ; while Mr. Kean hitched about in his chair and coughed in an agony of discomfiture. " Take care, or you'll be committed for contempt of court. What do you do for a living besides charring ? " " Bless my eyes, don't get into such a fluster ! " re- monstrated the wretch, cringingly. " I'll say or do whatever ye like." " Stand down ! " roared Mr. Kean. " Pardon, Mr. Justice and gentlemen of the jury, but in spite of all our care to produce this witness in a state of decent sobriety, she has contrived to elude our vigilance, and is, as you may see, stupified with drink. Call for- ward Timothy Poison." Nobody making any objection to this, Miss Antoy- n et Blaze was led out of the court, muttering a volley of oaths as she -went, and casting a malignant glance toward Barb, whom she had fondly hoped to damage irretrievably by blazoning forth her own shame, and then associating the young girl inextricably with her- self. Unfortunately, her natural stupidity had balked her design, for she did not perceive how fatal 256 FOR AND AGAINST. to her credibility as a witness was the admission she insisted on making, namely, that she had been pre- viously instructed by the counsel for the prosecution what to say. Some odd glances were interchanged by the other side as she staggered out, and Mr. Bonar, the counsel for the defendant, made a note or two. Timothy Poison appeared in his associate's place, and the examination proceeded. This gentleman being far more in fear of the law than Miss Blaze, or not being upheld by her pot- courage, answered all Mr. Hawksly's questions with meekness and a very gratifying directness. From him the assembled throng learned, in unmistakable terms, quite enough of the private affairs of old Xan, connected as they were with his own, to brand them both with a character of blackest infamy ; and this having been achieved, Mr. Hawksly continued : " How long have you known the prisoner ? " "Ever 'since I come to Cardinal Court, four or five years ago," replied Tim. " Was she living by herself ? " "No; she wor old Nan's gal. Old Nan picked her up somewheres around the Battery or tharabouts, when she wor a brat in long clothes, an' reared her for to be a comfort to her when she got old." " What was the prisoner's occupation then? " FOR AND AGAINST. 257 " H-m-ahem ! Wai, she wor pretty smart in a crowd ; not by no means backward of any of 'em in the court, I rayther believe." "You mean that she was an accomplished pick- pocket?" " Why, yes, I suppose that's your way of puttin' it." " What was her age then ? " " Maybe twelve, and the rummest little sly cuss you ever see. Folks used to stop her in the street to give her pennies, she looked so precious innercent an' harmless, an' she'd take 'em off to old Nan an' me arterwards, tit to make ye bust." At this monstrous lie the unfortunate young crea- ture turned such a harrowing look of wonder and re- proach upon the ruffian that he was fain to snatch his eyes from hers, and take refuge in feeling all his pockets for a quid of tobacco. More than one of the ladies present catching that eloquent glance grew paler, and tears rushed to their eyes. But the baron and baroness sat inflexible, passing cruel judgment upon her ; the judge and jury, too, received every statement with a matter-of-course air, which boded .ill for their leniency. Mr. Ilawksly proceeded : " As she grew older, what was her mode of life ? " Again Tim cleared his throat with an affectation 258 FOR AND AGAINST. of reluctance, and then made a hideous assertion which wrung from the outraged girl a sudden wrath- ful cry. " That's false ! false " ! said little Barb, stretch ing her slender arms and lifting her crimson, tear- wet face heavenward. " God knows it's false ! Your Honor, believe me, I would have starved, or let them beat me to death before I'd have stooped to be what he says ! " " Your Honor," interposed Hawksly, hastily, " we have other witnesses to substantiate what this witness asserts. ISTo doubt the prisoner's counsel will be able to refute them with reliable testimony if they trifle with the truth." The judge bowed, the throng whispered dubiously, and Hawksly proceeded in a great hurry : ( " Under what circumstances did the prisoner leave the shelter of Antoinette Blaze's roof eighteen months ago?" The wretch gave a glib account of her flight with Barry, whom he described as one of the " flash cus- tomers from Fifth Avenoo," who had lured Barb away to make use of her ; and having done every- thing in his power to blast the prisoner's character, he was about to quit the box in triumph, when Mr. Bonar detained him to put him through a rigid cross- examination, with, however, very little result, thanks FOR AND AGAINST. 259 to the previous drilling he had received from Messrs. Kean and Ilawksly. After his exit, several disreputable personages ap- peared in turn on the stand, and swore away the poor remains of little Barb's good name, until there was not a soul there who did not look upon her as an ut- terly lost and abandoned creature, having come into the world through her parents' shame, her only inheri- tance their vicious proclivities, and her life a contin- uation of theirs, this was accepted by the mass pre- sent, with the exception of Mrs. Fairleigh, her friend the good clergyman, and, yes, perhaps Lionel Roscoe, if one might judge by the painful intensity of the gaze he kept fastened upon her, and the impatient- gnawing of his nails and frequent writhings in his seat, as if he would fain be on his feet contradicting every word. And yet Lionel Roscoe firmly believed in her guilt as a murderess. The next to be called upon the stand was Mrs. Fairleigh's groom, who had time and again accom- panied Mrs. Harrison Fairleigh and Miss Marah Leith in their drives together, and who testified to the un- mistakable affection which was between them, and to the remonstrances which he had more than once overheard Barb making in Miss Leith's room to the intimacy, which she had designated as "dangerous," and " sure to come to no good," etc., etc. 260 FOR AND AGAINST. ft Then Lionel Roscoe was called, and went through the narrative of the interview between Harrison and Barb in Madison Square, with the significant words he had heard her use. " Beware of Barbara Pomeroy ! 51 quoted Lionel ; and a hush fell on the jostling and staring people, and they listened breathlessly to this the first testi- mony which directly implicated the accused in the crime for which she was being tried. Lionel went through his part with the utmost calmness and mod- eration, until he came to the period when, having carried Barb off from the theatre in spite of her re- sistance, he was confronted by her in the hotel. "Your Honor, and gentlemen of the jury," said the young Englishman, loyal to fair play in the teeth of public opinion, " whatever the faults of the un- happy woman before you may be, I, for one, will never believe her deserving of the tainted character these people have chosen to brand her with. Sup- posing me to have abducted her for a wicked purpose, she confronted me upon my entering into her presence as any other virtuous woman would have confronted the scoundrel who sought to betray her she was ready to choose death to dishonor. Had I presumed to touch her she would have thrown herself from the window. Come, whatever she is, she is guiltless of shame ! " FOR AND AGAINST. 261 The two lawyers for the prosecution rewarded him with a severe frown, and the judge looked puzzled ; but the frail girl at the bar turned her sweet white face upon him with a gentle gratitude that somehow wrung his very heart, and made the next questions which he was called npon to answer seem doubly horrible. These all pertained to the immediate scenes of the fatal night, from the time when Barb was introduced into the house of the baron to the moment when Lionel rushed into Katherine's bedchamber and dis- covered her lying dead from strangulation, and Barb lying across her insensible, with her hand still "twisted in the rope of pearls which she had used to murder her with. This portion of his testimony was corroborated by Mrs. Archer, the housekeeper, by the baron, and by a host of servants, who had hurried to the spot upon the first alarm raised by Lionel. These all having been examined and carefully cross-examined by the counsel for the defendant, Mr. Kean said, solemnly : " This is the case," and sat down. " Call forward the witnesses for the defence," said the judge, breaking into the buzz and murmur of excited voices. The first to enter the box was Mrs. Fairleigh ; ex- 262 FOR AND AGAINST. amined by Mr. Bonar, she gave a beautiful testimony to the worth of little Barb ; indeed, so tenderly did she speak of the simplicity, heroism, and pure sincer- ity of the young girl's character ever since she had known her, that many who heard her wept for sym- pathy, and looking on the accused through her eyes for the nonce, vowed they saw her lovely spirit shin- ing through, and that such as she seemed could not, for sure, be guilty. She did her best, also, to do away with the unfavorable impression so craftily instilled into the public mind by Ilawksly's insinuations re- garding her birth, by narrating the conversation which had taken place between Mrs. Pomeroy and Barb on that subject the night the young girl was kidnapped, and though this was scarcely in order, it told decid- edly. The jury, too, seemed vastly impressed by the good lady's explanations ; in fact, it told on all pres- ent, which Messrs. Kean and Hawksly no sooner per- ceived than they set to work to destroy the effect by holding up Mrs. Fairleigh's well-known charities of which there were enough to have shamed them into a better spirit to ridicule, as the one foible of her otherwise well-balanced mind, citing several laugh- able incidents in which she had been egregiously mis- taken. Of course there was but one impression left on people's minds -after they were finished with the subject that little Barb was the latest fraud who had FOR AND AGAINST. 263 victimized her protectoress. Be sure the name of Marah Leith had not been left ontof this discussion ; nor Barb's confidential terms with her allowed to re- dound to her honor. As Mrs. Fairleigh stepped down from the witness-box she had the agony of feeling that she had done all in her power to vindicate the innocent, and that her efforts were already frus- trated. The next witness called up was Hugh "Wayne's sister Xettie, whom we last saw at Thunder Peak, sewing on Barry Pomeroy's wedding veil, the night she fled from home. Mr. Bonar's object in producing her was to prove the existence of another Barbara Pomeroy, and so gradually to build up such a case of circumstantial evidence against this other, that the motive which was ascribed to Barb as actuating the deed, might be explained away. If they could succeed in this, Barb's own story of the manner in which the deceased met her death would have some chance to be received with due weight. " What is your name ? " inquired the counsel for the defence. " Annette Wayne," replied the pretty young lady, in charming confusion. ''Where do you live?" " At Eensselacr's Landing." 264 FOR AND AGAINST. " Were you ever acquainted with any one of the name of Barbara Pomeroy ? " " Yes, sir." faltered Nettie, looking down. " Look on the prisoner, if you please. Is she the Barbara Pomeroy you knew \ " " No." There was a great sensation at this. It was the first inkling the public Had that there was another Barbara Pomeroy ; it was the first inkling the law- yers on the other side had that there was another Barbara Pomeroy. Astonishment sat on every face. A sudden light gleamed over Lionel Roscoe's. He leaned back with folded arms, almost smiling on little Barb ! " Who was the Barbara Pomeroy you knew ? " continued Mr. Bonar, quietly. " She was the daughter of our late minister, and livfed with her mother in her uncle's house at Thun- der Peak, some miles from my home." "Your late minister was he an American?" . "No, sir, he came from England when 'he was a young man." " Do you know anything of his antecedents ? " " Nothing positively. Some said he came of good blood." " Does the prisoner at all resemble him \ " " Yes. she is as like him as woman can be to man." FOR AND AGAINST. 265 " Very good, we shall return to this again. Now about Miss Pomeroy. " What did you know of her ? " " Nothing but good nothing but good, poor Barry ! " returned the young lady with emotion. " "We went to school together, we grew up together. When she became engaged to my brother Hugh, I was as happy as he, for she was the loveliest, the best, the cleverest girl in all the country side ; at least, we thought so." " What is your brother's occupation ? " " He is a doctor." " How long is it since he became engaged to Bar- bara Pomeroy ? " " About two years." " Are they married now ? " "No." " Are they still engaged to each other ? " "No." " What broke the match off ? " " Alas ! I don't know. Until lately, Hugh himself could not guess." " When did you last see Barbara Pomeroy ? " "Eighteen months ag >." " TJnder what circumstances \ " '' It was the week before she was to have been married. I and cousin Lizzie Bright were at her 12 266 FOR AND AGAINST. uncle's house, helping her with her wedding things ; we were to be bridesmaids. She had been in a queer mood all day sort of nervous and hysterical, we thought; but we supposed it natural enough, and did not trouble about it. However, that even- ing she seemed so excited that Hugh got alarmed, and went out with her to the garden to find out what was the matter. I believe she put him off Math some excuse, promising to tell him what troubled her in the morning. In the morning she was gone ! " "Gone? Where?" "Nobody could tell. She left a letter for her mother, bidding her good-by, and promising to come back when she was happy again." "Could no one guess what induced her to act in such an extraordinary manner ? " " Oh, there were many guesses made, but all unjust and without foundation, I am sure." " Mention some of them." " I am sorry to do so, sir ; I love Barry Pomeroy ! They said that she had run off with a lover from the city. I know it was false." " Can you prove that it was ? " " No." " What foundation was there for such a rumor ? " " Some of the neighbors said they had seen her in FOR AND AGAINST. 267 conversation with a young gentleman, a stranger in our parts. I can't believe it, because she never said anything about any stranger." " Was it proved that there was a stranger staying at Thunder Peak about that time ? " " ISTo, not at Thunder Peak, but there was at the hotel in Rensellaer's Landing." " His name ? " " His name was Harrison FairleigTi ! " There was another sensation in court at these words. The people swayed to and fro in their excitement; the baron and baroness turned looks of amazed appeal upon their lawyers, who sat glaring helplessly at the witness. The judge took a few hurried notes, the jurors whispered animatedly together; Lionel Roscoe's countenance cleared yet more radiantly. Even Mrs. Fairleigh glanced around with a more assured air. But the prisoner's s \veet face was hidden in her trembling hands. She was weeping for lost Barry Pomeroy ! "What proofs are there to substantiate this asser- tion ? " demanded Kean, jumping, up. " All in good time," said Bouar, coolly. " Let us finish with one witness before we summon another. Now, Miss Wayne, will you be kind enough to tell the court what you next knew of Barbara Pomeroy ? " 268 FOE AXD AGAINST. " For more than a year we could hear nothing, though my poor brother devoted himself to the search for her, to the ruin of his practice and the breaking of his heart. But one evening last January a young lady came to our house and asked to see my brother on private business. She "was a friend of our lost Barry's, and she had come to Hugh with news of her." " Did you see the lady ? " " Yes, I saw her I gave her a cup of hot tea, for she was cold and trembling." " Did you hear her name ? " " I did not.' " Would you know her if you saw her again ?" " Indeed I would ! She came on an angel's errand I shall never forget her sweet face ! " " Do you see her in court ! " "Yes." "Where?" Nettie turned her flushed and smiling face suddenly, and stretching out her arm said, with deep feeling : " In the prisoner's dock, where I am sure she has no rig] it to be ! " A wave of feeling surged over the court ; a faint hum of applause rose, to be instantly checked, how- ever, by the wily Hawksly springing up with the un- sympathetic query : FOR AND AGAINST. 269 "Had the doctor's fair visitor come to set him upon her friend's track, that she might spoil her game with Mr. Harrison Fairleigh ? " This, not being a question in form, was suppressed by his Honor with some asperity, but it had served its purpose, and in reminding all present of the alle- gations under which the prisoner lay, effectually cooled their incipient enthusiasm. " My brother did not inform me what the young lady had confided to him," said Nettie Wayne, when order was once more restored ; " he was in great trouble, and besides, hastening out his carriage to drive the lady up to Thunder Peak to see Barry's mother." " They went that same night to Thunder Peak, did they ? " proceeded Mr. Bonar. " Yes, in the middle of a snow-storm, through roads drifted in places breast-high, so anxious was the lady to reach Mrs. Pomeroy." " And what happened then ? " " For three days nothing happened they were drifted up and could not get away, then they came back with Mrs. Pomeroy, who was very ill ; the/had found her at the point of starvation beside old Mr. "West, who was dying of paralysis. We nursed her until she was able to travel, and then she, the young lady and Hugh, went to the city." 270 FOR AND AGAINST. "Were you not informed for what purpose they went ? " "Not in so many words, it was a subject I knew to be frightfully painful to Hugh, and of course I could not discuss it with him ; but he let me gather that Barry was in some sort of danger which this young lady was trying to save her from, and that they hoped her mother's presence would be a safe- guard for her." "What excuse did the prisoner give for not reveal- ing her name ? " " She gave none, but Hugh said that the mention of it would only rouse all the gossip in the place. I know now what he meant, though it puzzled me so then the accident of her name being the same as poor Barry's, not to mention her extraordinary resem- blance to our minister, would have been quite enough to set the craziest reports about the country-side, especially as neither the young lady herself nor any one else could account for the coincidence." " What was the next event that transpired ? " " In three or four days Hugh came back alone*, so crushed and despondent, yet trying to look hopeful, that I knew in a minute that whatever had befallen Barry, she had not melted to him. All he told me was, that God had sent one of His angels to look after our poor girl, and that he hoped some day, not FOR AND AGAINST. 271 too far off, to see her back to her mother's side in safety." -"What next?" " Alas ! nothing but perplexity and mystery for me. A week afterward my brother got a letter written in the most illiterate sort of a hand, evidently by one entirely unaccustomed to writing. Stay, I have it here, he left it on his office-table when he went, for he was in the saddest way ! " She here produced a scrap of paper in a torn en- velope, which Mr. Bonar read aloud, and then passed to the judge. Does our gentle friend who is skimming these pages remember that dreary scene of little Barb in her foul captivity, scratching her appeal to " one-eyed Sal," the organ-grinder, on the backs of a knave of hearts, an ace of diamonds, and a ten of clubs, with the ends of some burnt matches, while her jailor, Tim Poison, smoked in the background and listened en- joy ably to the music ? This is the letter of her envoy to Hugh Wayne : "Sun Litel Barb of Cardnel Cort says to tel Doktr that she is in trubl cos old nan has her and Bury is wuss, and I ncs meself tha tha meensno good by the dere sweet lam that I thot had got clar of them forever. Yu wil find me at my logins at 850 Ave., 272 FOR AND AGAINST. top floor, lial room, by name one Ide Sal. Very respectfully, SAL." This humble epistle was addressed in characters and spelling which no one would have been bold enough ever to suppose could reach the person meant, to RENSLBS LANDNG HUDSN RIVE." " This letter you say your brother received a week after his return ? " proceeded Mr. Bonar ; " he an- swered it by going to the city, did he ? " " He did. He told me that Barry was worse, he feared worse than dead ; indeed, he was in such a frightful state of mind, that he spoke quite wild, and I did nothing but try to soothe my poor fellow. "Within an hour after receiving the letter he had gone, and from that day to this, I have neither seen nor heard from him. For forgive me, but I can say no more now, gentlejnen my my poor heart is break- ing, I think ! " And, bathed in tears, and watched in profound silence with looks of respectful sympathy, the trem- bling girl was led from the witness-box. CHAPTER XX. HOW MAN SMIRCHED THE PAGE THAT GOD -COUNTED WHITE. 'PEOPOS of the last witness's testimony, the ^ next brought forward by the counsel for the defence was One-eyed Sal herself, who, in words uncouth as her own appearance, spoke such things of "little Barb, old Nan's gal," as sent the costliest lace handkerchief in the house to eyes not used to any tears that were not drawn thither by the reigning prima donna's sorrows, melodiously warbled at four thousand dollars a night. To think of that tiny creature, so wan and sweet, clad in very rags, with the blue marlvsof brutal abuse on her transparent cheek and shivering, unclothed shoulders, running out barefooted in the snow to give half her scanty meal to Sal's sick boy; or, if she had nothing else to give, to whisper in his wondering ear some loving endearment, and some marvellously pretty verse about "Jesus and the Lamb, and such." To catch glimpses of her here among the desperate women of. Cardinal Court, cheering them to "try 12* 274: GOD 1 8 WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. again ! " yonder among the fierce, drink-maddened brawlers at the tavern doors, begging them in loving tones, by name, every one of them, as if they were her own brothers, to " come away ; " to " go home to poor Mollie," or " to cast a thought, for pity's sake, to little Jack tied in his chair in the cold garret, and crying for daddie ! " " Ah ! " the rude orator burst out, clasping her skeleton hands together, and looking at the prisoner with eyes as wet and reverent as the best love in her heart could make them ; " you knew the way to all our hearts, you did, an' there's a many of us 'ud lay down our lives this day to save ye, an' welcome ! " Thank God for that cheer ! It rang out from bosoms stirred by the divine ; it spoke of the presence of the noblest of human emo- tions ; it shivered for a little season that hideous idol SELF from his throne in too many hearts there ; it thrilled the foes of little Barb with the half hope that, after all, public opinion might cast such a shield around their prey that so-called justice would be' balked, and her friends with the full conviction of her innocence being shown out incontestably ; ay, as that cheer rang out from the multitude, it seemed as if the very heavens brightened and glowed in sym- pathy with the God-like instinct of pure goodness that for one moment magnetized the mass. GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. 275 When the echoes had died away and for once no one uttered any protest Mr. Bonar drew from the woman the most satisfactory corroboration of Miss Wayne's statements in regard to the letter her brother had received, with a characteristic account bf the cir- cumstances under which it had been written ; Barb's enforced captivity, the current reports of the cruel- ties practised upon her by her vile jailors ; Dr. Wayne's arrival in the city ; anxiety about Barb ; his letter to her, etc., etc., etc. Comparing these facts with Kean's dark insinua- tions concerning the young man Avho had interfered with Mr. Roscoe's abduction of Barb from the Opera House, how brightly Mr. Bonar flashed forth his client's purity of mind and purpose throughout the whole of the transactions which had been so distorted ! The next witness called was the landlord of the hotel in Rensselaer's Landing, who brought his visitor's book for last year to prove that Harrison Fairleigh, New York, had spent some six weeks at his house during the summer of Barbara Pomeroy's disappear- ance from her home at Thunder Peak. After him several residents of the place came for- ward, who had been eye-witnesses of certain passing meetings between the said gentleman and the young girl. Then the matron of the institution to which Barb had brought Barry the night of that day she 276 GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. had rescued her from the jeering mob in the street. This excellent lady described the young woman whom the prisoner had brought to her so graphically, that the baroness and her husband listened astonished, tracing in every expression a perfect reproduction of Marah Leith, while gentle Mrs. Fairleigh sat pale and downcast, with her teeth buried in her frigid lip, ashamed. Soon the matron was asked for her impressions of the character of the prisoner ; and you should have seen her kindly face light up and her eye moisten as she dwelt on "the child's modesty, industry, and lovely generosity to her friend, the other girl, who seemed of as dark and gloomy a nature as she was open and sweet," as the lady expressed herself. She narrated the incident of Mrs. Fairleigh's visit to the institution in search of a young girl suitable to adopt in place of her own daughter, when, her fancy having been captivated by the gentle graces of the child Barb, she chose her, but was diverted from her choice by little Barb pleading her friend's greater need of such a safe and tender home, and supplicating her to take Marah Leith instead of her. There was no resisting warm-hearted Mrs. Mar- tyn's story. Again and again a thrill of ungovern- able emotion ran through the multitude, and they felt the irresistible power of simple truth as they GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. 277 could not be made to feel the clever sophistries of Kean and Ilawksly, studied as these were for weeks ahead. In conclusion, she assured the court that she had kept loving track of the prisoner ever since, and had nothing to say of her course but what was ad- miring ; so steadily and nobly had she worked on alone, keeping her name as pure as the highest lady's in broad America ! And as she stepped down, again the people cheered for Barb, till shy roses began to bloom in her thin cheeks and diamond drops of gratitude to twinkle in her modest eyes. After her came Barb's boarding-house mistress, who testified to her boarder's unassailable character, and unchangeable goodness of life all the time she had been in her house ; who also attested to the arrival of an old lady of the name of Pomeroy, whom Miss Pomeroy had brought from the country with her some few days before the commission of the murder, and lodged in her front room, first story ; she also remembered the visits of Dr. Wayne to Mrs. Pome- rov, and wound up with the sudden astonishing dis- appearance of Barb, succeeded by the no less per- plexing removal of Mrs. Pomeroy by the strange young lady at the dead of night. This narration dovetailed perfectly into one-eyed Sal's account of Barb's captivity in Cardinal Court, and set the whole 278 GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. story, neatly linked together, at last before the court. " This is the last of ray witnesses for the defence, your Honor, " said Mr. Bonar, somewhat sadly ; " none of them, I own, seem to touch the real question at issue; but, surely, in all' this heterogeneous mass of testimony to the prisoner's beauty of character, we may hope to catch the glitter of that lost diamond, belief in her innocence. I have now to ask the respectful attention of the court while my client says the few words she has to say in explanation of her entanglement with this most unhappy affair." "With this he sat down, and in deep silence the people waited for little Barb to plead for her life. So then the child called up all her fortitude, and in low and tremulous accents, which gradually gathered strength as her feelings kindled, she said : " I ain't got much to say about myself, and what I Jiave ain't going to clear me any, 'cos I have only my word for it, which they say don't go for nothing. What I would like to say, though, is that seems to me things have bore so hard on Barry that she's agoing to be thought worse of than she has any right to be. You see, gentlemen an' ladies," said Barb, warming, " this Barry Pomeroy were born sort of high strung, with a sperrit delicater an' more easy hurt than the like of mine ; so that what would ou'y GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. 279 given me a passing sting, hit her mortal. When she were at Thunder Peak, oh, I know she were all that the dear good, young lady said the modestest, the kindest, the dutif ulest oh, my ! to think that a bad man could change her so ! * When I fust see her,V exclaimed little Barb, looking round with glistening eyes, " she were fresh from her mother ; she were that frightened an' iunercent, that I felt old, bless you, as Methuselah beside her ! an' so pretty an' soft- spoken, though even then she were full of the bitter affront Mrf Harrison Fairleigh had put upon her, by offeriir a love that could on'y disgrace her. It goes agin ray heart, God, He knows, to say a word agin the son of my dear lady here, but she has bidden -me to speak out and spare nobody, rather than injustice should be done." And in simple language she told the story which I, far less affectingly and more clumsily, I own, have claimed your attention so long in telling ; the story of Barry's wrong and Barry's revenge. Her narrative necessarily brought in Mrs. Pomeroy and Hugh Wayne, and in such a manner that if they could only have been produced to bear her out, her case would have assumed at once a hopeful color. But alas ! both were mysteriously missing and who was to prevent the lawyers for the prosecution from insinuating that they purposely kept out of the 280 GOZTS WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. way, rather than meddle in a conspiracy which some trifling folly of the Barbara of Thunder Peak had laid her open to the suspicion of being mixed up in, and which they would not expose ? " If she were here, poor Barry's mother," cried Barb, eagerly, " she would tell ye all what a comfort her daughter were to her till he came to poison her ; or Dr. Wayne, he would show ye far better than I can, what a noble nature she had ; an' sure, don't the highest come the lowest of all when they fall ? My poor Barry jest couldn't live peaceable after he'd in- sulted her, for, d'ye see, she loved him, that girl did, with all her heart an' soul; an' oh, my ! what a big heart it were, an' what a proud soul ! air to think that any man, with a sweet angel mother to think of, could go for to make so light of a woman as that ! God have mercy on Barry Pomeroy, it set her crazy, it did ! no, no, no ! I'll never b'lieve she were herself the night she passed her mother by with a laugh in Baron Ilen- drick's ball-room ; nor when she coaxed me so soft an' smooth to b'lieve she were a-goin' to give it all up an' go back to her mother, an' then set old NVin an' Tim Poison on me no, God forgive me, I ought ter have seen she were mad, an' took better care on her." And then, "mid death-like silence, she tremblingly went on to tell her vision of Katherine Ilendrick's death. GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. 281 " "When I lieard her speak to Mr. Roscoe, I were struck with the still way she spoke ; an' thinks I, 'sure, I never heard a voice so wailin' sad, or is it on'y m;y own trouble makes me think it so ? " An' then she let me in, an' when I saw her face, an awful creep went through me, for it were death-struck, jest as sure as if the pearl rope were round her pretty throat then ! An', oh, my ! oh, my f to think that I were so blind an' stupid that I couldn't understand ! " And here the prisoner burst into a fit of ungovern- able grief, and at sight of her slender figure bowed and shaking with convulsive sobs, the ladies all wept for sympathy and admiration, but Mr. Kean whis- pered audibly to Mr. Ilawksly : " Bonar knows how to make a point, eh ? Yery well done, indeed ! " and then the ladies dried their tears and felt ashamed of them. " She had on a white gown, an' her hair were all hangin' down her back wild like, as if she'd been tearin' it," Barb went on ; " an' she sat down by a little bit of a table that had a open letter lyin' spread out on it, and she kept a-lookin' at that letter all the time she were a-talkin' with me, as if she couldn't for- get it or look at it enough. I can't rightly tell all we said ; I'd gone there for to warn her to look out for poor Barry; but when she spoke as if she knew already, an' said, with her eyes on the letter, as if she 282 GO&S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. were readin' of it there, ' He loves her ! How lie loves her ! ' I saw that Barry had been before me, an' crushed the poor lady with the truth maybe written her the very letter that troubled her so ; and I didn't say much. But well 1 mind the shiver in her voice, an' the white hands of her thrust inter her lovely hair, as she said, moanin', ' I know all she'll take no vengeance on him ; she^s took it all on me ! ' an' with that she turned her to the letter agin, an' forgot me, till Mr. Roscoe, he called out to her. After he had talked to her a bit, she were for sen din' me away, but I were so frightened that Barry meant her some harm that night, besides the queer kind of uneasiness I had about her, seein' her in that state of mind, that I coaxed her till she let me stay, if I would sleep on the sofa in her parlor. Mr- Roscoe, I mind, was very angry, but she wouldn't hear him, saying that she was safer with me than with herself, an' he had to let her have her way. "When we were alone again, she laid her face down on the letter, an' forgot me ; an' at last I couldn't stand it no longer, an' crept up to her, an' tried to comfort her with what has given me the only strength I have for to meet my troubles with I mean the love an' pity that's felt for us up in heaven but oh ! oh ! poor lady, she were too unhappy to heed me ! She said she must not forget her prayers that night, and had it coine to this ! An' GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. 283 with that up she gets, an' goes about the room dis- tracted. Then she remembered me, an' told me in her high way that I saw a proud woman whose prido was blighted : that blighted pride was hard to bear, but blighted love was harder ; that she thought she had no heart, but that to-night she had found she had. She said she loved him (Mr. Harrison, she meant), an' that she could have parted with anything she had, her beauty, an' money, and popularity only not his love. She said she could take no comfort out of what I said about heaven, she were too desp'rate, an' envied me my tears. An' then she sent me to her dressing-room for the string of pearls, say in' they were his present to his bride, an' that she would wear them sure that night. God pity me, I brought them to her oh, why was mine the hand ! " There was a pause here, broken by sobs from every part of the house. It was a pitiful tale, and surely worth a tear or two, even if not all true. " 1 mind now how her eyes seemed to flame up as she took the thing from me," resumed the prisoner, " an' how she kissed it over an' over, callin' it a pre- cious gift, an' say in' that he would know how she'd loved him when he heard how she wore it that night, air f lien then she kissed me, an' sent me away. An' so I sat on the floor by her chamber-door keepin' watch over her for fear of Barry, till till the sounds 284: GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. woke me up from I don't know how long a sleep, and when I ran in she gave me one look, an' twisted her hands in tighter, an' we struggled, an' I got my hands in too. try in' to break the string, an' an' that's al] I have to say." * * * * * * The lawyers rose to argue the case. Of course the statements made by the prisoner could not materially affect it, as what she said, unsup- ported by further proof, could not be taken as evi- dence. Moreover, there was one important discre- pancy in her narrative which could not be explained satisfactorily. The letter which played such an im- portant part where was it ? Xo human eye but her's had ever beheld it. When did it arrive to Miss Ilen- drick ? Not per post ; that the footman who brought np the evening delivery from the letter-box could testify. No visitor had been seen to enter or leave Baron Ilendrick's house during the evening. ]S"o ashes as of consumed paper had been found in Miss Ilendrick's grate. In fact the existence of that letter was too important, as furnishing the missing motive for Katherine Ilendrick's suicide, to be passed by without keen controversy between the contend ing counsel : and so acute was their controversy that it came at last to be the one point upon which the whole of the case turned. GOD'S WHITE PAGE SMIRCHED. 285 If that letter could be produced, Barb's safety war assured ; if not God have mercy on her ! It could not be produced. And so, this is how they made the story run. An ignorant girl, well-meaning, possibly, but bred amid such scenes as would blunt an angel's sensibili- ties, falls into the hands of a clever young woman, who desires to rise in life by fair means or by foul. "When the rich Mr. Fairleigh comes along, the clever adventuress resolves to appropriate him, and makes use of her humbler companion and accomplice to attain her ends. Inflamed with hatred against her rival, Miss Ilendrick, she induces her tool to murder her, while she elopes with the prize. The deed is done clumsily, the murderess is caught in the act, there- fore : " Gentlemen of the jury, have you well and truly considered your verdict ? " "We have." " What say you, gentlemen of the jury, is the pris- oner at the bar Guilty or not Guilty ? " And they answered : " GUILTY ! " CHAPTER XXL BACK FKOM DEATH 5 8 PORTAL. UT while all this was happening in York, some very strange events were hap- pening out of it; these we will now relate, having once more to retrograde to the night of Kathe- rine Hendrick's death, and Barbara Pomeroy's mar- riage with her faithless lover, Harrison Fairleigh. The suicide bride lay stark and stiff in her dis- tracted husband's arms ; he uttered a cry that brought the household rushing to the room. " She's dead ! " raved the bridegroom, " oh, will no one rid me of my cursed life too? Barry Barry Barry! "and he poured forth despair like a mad- man. Now there chanced to be in the household an old fellow, a worthless, good-hearted, versatile, do-nothing Jack-of-all trades, who had had a probation in every occupation you could name, from a surgeon's appren- tice to his present one, an nnder-butler. He, watch- ing this scene with the moist eyes of sympathetic and BACK FROM DEATH'S PORTAL. 287 spirituous sexagenarian ism, felt moved to view the lovely corse yet closer, and ventured near, unrebuked by his frenzied master. As his wrinkled hand touched the soft and clammy satin of her brow : " Quick ! out with ye, every one ; by the Lord, I may bring her back yet ! " cried this worthy, and he drove his fellow-servants out with all the impetuosity of the true Bohemian ; and struck docile by hij decision in the midst of their chaotic panic, they flocked from the room again like sheep. Then he grasped his master hard by the shoulder, and the painful grip brought him something to him- self. " Where does this blood come from ? " queried the man. " Iler arm she opened a vein, and bled to death," shuddered the master. " Fool ! " muttered the Jack-of -all-trades, with the fearless candor of that character, "why didn't ye bind it up with your handkerchief, and make a tour- niquet of yonder essence-bottle, while ye sent for the doctor?" " Alas ! I did try to stop it, and so, sweet soul, did she ; but see, the blood would escape, and steal her life away with it ! " and in anguish he showed the statuesque arm of his treacherous darling, bound 288 BA CK FROM DEATH'S PORTAL. securely enough to all appearance, yet saturated with fresh crimson. "She helped ye to tie this knot, I'll warrant, grunted the wiseacre. " I can stick ray fingers right through it. I see, she was bound to give ye the slip, sir. Ain't that a woman, all over ? She'd sell her soul to have her lover from another woman, an' when she got him she'd rather die than put up with the stings of her own silly conscience ! " " Oh, Barry Barry Barry ! " moaned her lover, subsiding again. " Mr. Fairleigh," said the man, grimly, and his lithe hands were busy about her exquisite bosom, as he spoke, " Wotever were atween this lady an' you, is none o' my business. Gents has their amoose- ments an' ladies has their tiffs ; wot I've got to say is, do ye want her to live or die, now ? " "Heavens, man, what do you mean? Is she not dead now?" cried Harrison, hoarsely, as he glared with frenzy in his blood-shot eye into the cunning orb of his servant. " No! " grinned that functionary. Harrison clutched him hung on him trembling, gobbing, trying to ask him what he was to do ; and his man took in the situation with a practised man's experienced eye, and made his plans with a practised man's promptness. BACK FROM DEATH'S PORTAL. 289 " Now, sir," said lie, pleasantly, " I were once in a surgeon's office in that very city of New York for two years, and saw operations performed that would knock this here one all to sticks. I think I can do it, you've only to say the word, and name your valu- ation of my services." " Do what ? " gasped Harrison. " Why, bring her to life again ! " " My God ! Can you do it, and you stand there wasting time ! Do it do it now, I agree to any- thing ! " cried Harrison, looking frightfully white and eager. " But if she was to die under my hands ? " sug- gested the man. " You see, master, I don't want to be brought into this here row, which looks pretty bad for some of us, as it is. There is precious little time, for she's fainted for loss of blood, and will never come to until w r e do it, but we must risk it, and get her out of this before I'll dare to put a hand on her." " Anything, only save her ! " groaned poor Harri- son, whose hopes were of the slimmest. " All right for a thousand dollars I'll undertake it," said the man. Harrison nodded. " You're a gentleman!" cried the gratified scamp. "If I fail, it won't be my fault. Now, we lock out prying eyes BO," suitino- the action to the \vord, " and wrap her up 13 290 BACK FROM LEATWS PORTAL, as warm as we can, to keep the life heat in her. No fear of any more hemorrhage, the surface is too cold now. Get your money, sir ; prepare for anything, the Lord only knows what's before us to-night." Harrison obeyed him like a child. Indeed, the horror of that sad night had so perfectly unmanned him, that he was glad to surrender his will to any- body's who seemed cool enough to bring order out of the chaos of his affliction. He ran about at his man's commands ; he meanwhile darting out of the room to assure his terror-struck colleagues that the lady had only fainted, and was all right again and to get a huge jug of hot water, which he decanted into half a dozen bottles, and placed about the body of the bride, securing them in their places by winding them in with the shawls in which he wrapped her up ; then, like two robbers, the master and man crept out of the house by the Venetian stairway which led from the bridal-chamber to the river carrying the motionless form between them stole the carriage and horses, laid her at full length in the bottom of the carriage, half-buried in downy coverlets and so, the master inside with his burning cheek to the marble of hers, and the man outside lashing the thorough- breds, they fled to a solitary house hidden under a cliff, where the man took them in with all the airs of proprietorship. BA CK FROM DEATH ' PORTAL. 291 " It's all right," grinned he, as a buxom woman came forward from a hurried toilet in the inner room, " we've been man and wife for too many a year for to blab each other's secrets now. Poll, look spry, the best bed for the lady." Too absorbed in his own affairs to notice how much of the comfort of the cottage had flagrantly come from his own mansion, the young gentleman bore his burden into the little guest-chamber, and forthwith Yokes, his ally, commenced operations. All was now bustle and dispatch. " Hot water, Poll ! " bawled Yokes. A bucket of it was at his foot anon. " Are ye willing to shed blood for her, Mr. Fair- Icigli?" briskly queried the master of the cere- monies. " Yes, yes, only begin ! " cried the impatient and bewildered gentleman. " Poll, the lancet ! Warm this syringe in the bucket. Another candle. Unwind her. Now, sir, your arm. My tools is rather rough, but I gitess I kin fix it," Harrison stripped his arm, and watched in an ec- stasy his hot blood being pumped into his darling's cold veins. " She'll love me forever, now my life-blood mixes with her's ! " whispered he, at which the cynic by his 292 BA CK FROM DEATH'S PORTAL. side shot a sneer to his spouse, who shook her head and sighed, as saying : " Ay, youth raves so, but old age finds us colder ! " w hen he was ready to swoon and he dissembled his faintness long before he would give in to it, in the fond terror that Yokes would not give his Barry enough of him to live on they gave him a cordial, and made him lie down and keep quiet beside her ; and so he passecT the night brooding over her, and toward the dawn, he and Poll being the watchers, Yokes having driven back with the horses that they might not be traced, Barry opened her beautiful eyes, and slowly came out of the other world with a smile of ineffable love into Harrison's, and then she closed them, and fell at once into a sweet restoring sleep. This lasted for twenty-four hours, during which master and man lay close, and not a word of the awful events that were going on outside found its way* to them in their hiding-place. Harrison had ample time to cast a retrospective eye over his late proceedings, and having neither the excitement of winning a bride to bedazzle him, nor the anguish of mourning her death to blunt his com- mon sense, he obtained a most prosaic realization of the ass he had made of himself before the world, and BACK FROM DEATH'S PORTAL. 293 felt ready to slink away with his dear-bought prize to the uttermost parts of the earth, where no soul he had ever known should see him. To think of it ! even now now as he sat by his sleeping Barry's side, watching her bloodless tfaee with the dark hair all drifted about it, his little world was ringing with the news of his elopement with his mother's protege, and his betrayed bride, Katherine Hendrick, was lying crushed under the blow, exciting the honest indignation of all who knew them. How he was being despised and execrated just now ! How his good mother was suffering ! .Oh, what a fond, blind fool he had been to win. the love of his life in this unworthy fashion ! And he groaned so audibly that Poll peeped in, thinking that something was wrong with the patient, and seeing her lying there as cairn as ever, said, cheerily : " Sweet lady ! she's just doing the right thing. When she wakes she'll be all the more ready for the beef-tea." And sure enough when she woke she drank the strengthening nourishment with all the sharp appe- tite of convalescence, yet, strange to say, seemed not to notice who held the bowl to her mouth, although it was her Harrison. 294: BA OK FROM DEATH* 8 PORTAL. Yokes, who was standing by, gave a queer start, and turned very purple at this. He also fastened his watery orbs on hers with more than their ordinary quota of speculation in them. Harrison smiled down on her, radiant with present happiness, and waiting for a love-look. The tea finished, she sank back with a contented murmur, and was for closing her eyes again. " Darling ! " ventured Harrison, disappointed. She never heeded. " .Barry ! my Barry ! " cried he. She held up her ivory-like hand, looking at it cu- riously. Harrison's wedding-ring shone on the third finger. Harrison put his finger upon the ring, and> bending low, whispered tenderly : " You remember all, my wife ? " Then she slowly turned her rich black eyes upon his, and gazed for full a minute, unsmilingly, as one might gaze at a picture or a landscape, or any- thing which had no life to answer back their glance. And then she drifted off into drowsy unconscious- ness. Harrison fixed his startled eye on Yokes, and caught that wiseacre in the act of telegraphing to his wife something which whitened even her ruddy cheeks. BACK FROM DEATH'S PORTAL. 295 " Why, man, what's the matter with yon ? " cried Harrison, seizing him savagely by the shoulder. "I I fear, yet have patience, sir, one cau hardly tell all at once," stammered the man. " Out with it! " gasped the wretched bridegroom "You think she's she's " " Mad ! whispered Yokes. CHAPTER XXII. THE CRUCIBLE. HE fell into another fathomless depth of slum- -' '^jj her, from which not all the babel of sounds which followed this awful announcement had the power to bring her back to consciousness. They thought Mr. Fairleigh would go mad himself next. He tore his hair ; he called on Heaven to take his miserable life at once, and spare him this too dreadful punishment of his f oily ; he cast himself on his knees by her couch, imploring her in language fit to break your heart, to give him one little look of recognition ; and then, turning like a tiger on his ally Yokes, he cursed him for bringing the swfeet soul back to a life bereft of reason and, trembling with fury, ordered him from his sight if he valued his own life. Yokes bore all meekly; in truth, he was too much shocked by the result of his surgical experiment to say a word, he could only gape at the poor lady and bite his nails. Ordered out, he obeyed, and sat with Poll in the THE CRUCIBLE. 297 woodshed faltering his consternation, and wondering what would be done next. An hour or two afterward, Harrison answered that question himself. He came to them as they shivered together, pale and haggard, but quite calm. " Yokes," said he, " go, get me some sort of a carrage in which I can convey Mrs. Fairleigh to the railway-station. Your wife can get her ready while you are gone." " But but where ? " shivered Yokes, struck stupid. " We go South to my plantation," said Harrison, then added to himself, " ay, there I can hide my misery and ruin as long as I like ; no one will dream of looking for us there." " Tonight ? " gasped Yokes. " To-night," answered Harrison, " you and your wife accompany us." Reassured by this command, the rascal departed on his errand with alacrity, and his sentimental and docile wife devoted herself to the mournful task of dressing the unconscious lady, and preparing every- thing for the tedious journey. And so, in the dead of night they locked up the lonely cottage under the cliff, and carried the mad bride away to hide her in the solitude of the long 13* 298 THE CRUCIBLE. deserted plantation in Virginia, which had once been the family homestead of the Fairleighs. Not a whisper had reached them of the events which were happening in New York, even Yokes, usually so wide-awake, failed this time to gather his budget of news, partly because of his enforced seclu- sion, partly that he was so painfully interested in the situation of affairs at the cottage, that the outside world had shrunk for the time into small bulk in his estimation. Yet, absorbed in his own affliction, the weak and erring man who had waded through such sullied waters to gain possession of that prize which could only harrow him with intolerable woe when won, now fled from the, scene of his dishonor just when he should have stood firm and prevented the sacrifice of her who had ever been angel-kind to his unhappy Barry ! Ignorant of Katherine's suicide and of Barb's danger, he hastened into a seclusion which, as he guessed, would never be broken by the friends he had left, as he supposed, too disgusted with his frailty to seek him out. Lakelawn, the Fairleigh plantation, had once been a noble property, but the mansion had been burned do\vn during the late war, the slaves scattered, and much of the wealth accruing therefrom lost in the general devastation. Its wide tobacco fields were THE CRUCIBLE. :.. 99 now worked by hired hands, under a grim Scotch manager, and the family lived North, never having revisited the place since that woeful day when tho venerable lady was supported from the smoking ruins of her home by her son, then a youth of fifteen. The spot where the plantation was situated was one of those wild regions common in Virginia, where the eye lifts itself to towering mountains whose sunny summits are lost in the pure ether, or plunges itself into fathomless pools, whose bottoms are covered by strange thickets of petrified trees and fantastic vege- tation. The valley where Lakelawn lay, spreading its rich acres to the genial sun, was one of those rock-encir- cled nests of verdure. Oaks and spicy walnuts had once wreathed their friendly arms around the man- sion, but now they stood black and shivered, pictures of desolation fitly surrounding the great, gliastly ruin which was once the home of the proudest family in the State ; and behind, no longer vailed by the grace- ful tracery of vine and arbor creeper, stretched a solemn sheet of water, black and lifeless, and over- hung by two savage, beetling crags, which flung mid- way a natural bridge overhead a single arch of fairy stone-work, so delicate and brittle that no hu- man foot had ever been known to cross the dizzy pathway. 300 THE CRUCIBLE. The pond went by the name of " Lost Lake," and from it the plantation had received its title " of Lake- lawn." The old mansion liouse, built in the ancient baron- ial days when the cavaliers of Virginia were trained in the court of England, and came fresh from its splendor to emulate it in their principalities across the ocean, had been burned down during the late Southern war. Here a crumbling martello tower, and there a fragment of a mighty archway, were all that remained to indicate the grand proportions of the ruin, with the exception of part of the western wing, which, for more than a century, had been given over to the rats and the antiquarian. The con- flagration had swept over these naked walls without finding food enough to stay it as long as to consume them. A few of the outbuildings around also stood untouched ; they were now occupied by Mr. Cargill, the manager, and his men ; and a surly set they were in their solitude, unbroken by anything more exciting than the weekly day of rest, or the occasional visit of some talkative pedler, for the nearest city was quite far enough distant to isolate them practically from their kind during the busy season. Upon this forlorn community there came, one morning, a gloomy young gentleman, riding superbly a fine " bit of blood," as old Cargill expressed it ; and THE CRUCIBLE. 301 what does this apparition want but lodging for his in valid. wife, his servants and himself! "An' whar ye think I can pit ye is what I wild like to ken ? " grumbled the Scotchman, furtively eye- ing the visitor. " There is room there," said he, waving his hand toward the western wing. " I shall have the interior repaired and furnished, and take possession before the end of the week." "An' wha' the deil are you that has the assurance to come here, takin' possession o' the auld hoose o' the Fairleighs ? An' wha think ye, am I, to let ye in till I write the young maister?" growled Scotia. The stranger thrust his hand into his pocket, and brought it out full of gold. "I am in trouble," said he, looking the old fellow eye to eye. "My wife has gone mad, and my only- hope for her is to hide her away from all disturbing causes for a time. Help me in this ; let me rent that ruin there, which is of no earthly value as it is; keep well the secret of my residence here even from your master, until after I am gone and, see here, you shall have a double-handful of these every week ! " The old gentleman's sharp eyes softened, his long upper lip relaxed its grim compression, a beam of sympathy lit up his lean visage : " lloot, man ! " cried he, heartily, " that alters the 302 THE CRUCIBLE. question. If ye're in affliction, an' in want o' a quiet hame, an' maybe a no unsympatheesing freend, this is the very spot for ye, an' fiend tak' me if I mak' or meddle in your family matters. An' noo jist please to pit up your siller ; what's richt an' fair I'm willin' to tak', an' we'll settle that when we've gane over the place thegither." And the stout old fellow was as good as his word ; went cannily over the ruined wing, helped to calcu- late what the probable cost of the proposed repairs would be ; fixed upon a rental, not generous, but just : asked no inquisitive questions, and parted from the unhappy young man in whom he never for a moment dreamed he beheld the proprietor of the plantation on the best of terms. He set his men to work upon the ruined building at once ; and what with their industry, and the young gentleman's constant presence, urging them on with his impatient and miserable looks, and the inexhausti- ble activity of the servant Yokes, two apartments were actually ready for their occupants by the end of the week lathed, plastered, furnished, and tho- roughly aired, all in the space of six days ; showing that where there's a will there's a way. The dusk was falling that summer evening when .Mr. Clifford, the new tenant, brought home his afflicted wife. They came in a close carriage ; their THE CRUCIBLE. 303 servants, Yokes and his wife, were there to receive them at the broken portal ; and, as the prudent Scotch- man who stood with a gang of curious negroes by the carriage-stepobserved the gentle solicitude with which the young gentleman carried the lady in his arms from the carriage to the house, not suffering her foot to touch the ground, and the pitiful glances of the two servants, if he had harbored any suspicions as to the cause of the secrecy which Mr. Clifford in- sisted upon, they were all dispelled. So they hid them away from the world in which they had cut such a poor figure ; and which was most pitiable I knew not : Harrison, with his remorse, his passion, and his blasted hopes .of happiness ; or Barry, with her frail and sinking body and distracted mind. Alas, if poor Barry had suffered much at this man's hands, she was inflicting anguish enough upon him now to atone for even a darker wrong than that he had put upon her ! Imagine a hot-hearted man whom love at its strongest has taken full possession of, condemned to this sort of thing. Scene, a quaint triangular chamber in the ruined wing, its broad window overlooking the glassy waters of Lost Lake ; sumptuous upholstery, delicate decora- tions lit for a lady's bower, flowers, pictures, pretty conceits scattered everywhere, in the forlorn hope 304: THE CRUCIBLE. that they will catch her attention and please her wan dering fancy. Barry reclines on the azure sofa, her white face and jet-black hair, and gleaming orbs in startling contrast to her brilliant crimson dress for it is one of her insane fancies to wear blood-color, and nothing else will she endure. Harrison bends over her with a piteous smile of love into those restless, fire-filled eyes of hers ; she heeds him not she weaves her slender hands together and twines them in her superb tresses with feverish persistency ; and her lips of burning red move con- tinually in incoherent whispers.