Lillian's vow or, The mystery of Raleigh House
“Send my maid to me, Williams,” she commanded.
The man looked blank.
“If you please, Miss Rosamond, she’s gone out. She left word with me
that if you wanted her, to say that she has gone up-town on an errand
of her own, which you gave her permission to attend to to-day. You see,
Miss Rosamond, you had not yet left your room, and Miss Leigh did not
wish to disturb you.”
“Very well, Williams,” she returned. “You may go.”
And as the door closed behind him, Miss Raleigh added, with apparent
frankness:
“Dear me! I wonder what Lillian’s particular business up-town can be?
I told her that you were coming here this morning to see her in regard
to a matter of importance. She looked confused, but she said nothing.
Now, Jack--Mr. Lyndon, do not look so disappointed! Can not I act as a
substitute for my maid?”
The tone of sarcasm in her voice had its own effect. Jack colored
slightly.
“I--I beg your pardon, Miss Raleigh,” he said, hastily. “I am aware
that my conduct is very unusual. I beg that you will be lenient with
me, and try to believe that I mean nothing wrong. And now I will bid
you good-morning.”
The look of disappointment which clouded her face was genuine.
“Why need you leave me so soon?” she pleaded. But Jack, disappointed
and chagrined, was not to be beguiled.
He made his adieu and was soon out in the street, wandering he scarcely
knew whither. He was off duty for a few hours, and the sense of freedom
was sweet. He wandered aimlessly down-town, away to the lower part of
the city, where the city parks lay basking in the wintery sunlight,
nearly deserted now by their usual occupants.
All at once Jack lifted his head, and his eyes fell upon a slight,
graceful figure in deep black, seated upon a bench in Douglas Park, her
fair, pure face uplifted, while the beautiful dark eyes watched the
fleecy clouds overhead with a dreamy, abstracted air. Why had Rosamond
Raleigh told him that Lillian had gone up-town, when in truth she had
taken the opposite direction? He drew near the slight form.
“Waiting for the clouds to roll by, Miss Leigh?” he asked,
mischievously.
Lillian started, and a swift wave of color flamed into her cheek as
Jack came forward and seated himself at her side.
“Why did you run away?” he asked, plaintively.
She laughed.
“Run away? From what--or whom?”
“From me!” he replied, venturing to take her hand in his own. “I called
upon you just now, but Miss Raleigh informed me that you had gone
up-town, or rather her servant said so. I was in despair, so I wandered
on without aim; to-day is a holiday, and I seldom get one; but at last
fate led me straight to your side. Lillian, fate is kind. My darling,
say that you are glad to see me!”
The frank brown eyes met his, and there was no dissimulation in their
depths.
“I am glad,” she murmured, softly. “Oh, so glad to see you! I was
thinking of you just now!”
He lifted her hand to his lips. They were almost as much alone in the
bleak, deserted park as Adam and Eve in Eden; and indeed it was Eden to
them.
Alas! and alas! there is no Eden without a serpent!
“Lillian, I love you!” The words burst from Jack’s lips in a torrent of
passionate yearning. “Darling, let me take you away from that house
where you are so unhappy! Where you are ill-treated and insulted. Be
my wife, Lillian, and I swear before Heaven to do all in my power to
make you happy! And I will help you to find your father’s murderer! I
know that you will never forget the vow that you took that awful night
beside his body. Let me help you, darling, in your efforts to bring
Gilbert Leigh’s murderer to justice! You do care for me, Lillian,
darling?”
“With all my heart!” she answered, simply.
“Then you will be my wife some day?”
The shy, brown eyes drooped before his eager gaze, and sweet and low
came the answer, “Yes.”
* * * * *
“Ah, good-evening, Mr. Lyndon. How glad I am that you have come! My
truant maid did not return until--oh, a short time ago. And I have
something to tell you, a love secret that I have surprised. What do you
think? Lillian is in love!”
Jack started, and his face grew deathly pale. Then he remembered that
she was his betrothed wife, and he smiled.
“In love? Oh, yes, why not?” he faltered; “and I wish to say to you
to-night, Miss Raleigh, that I--”
“Hush!” smiling archly into his face, “I have surprised a tender
secret. Come with me, Mr. Lyndon; I want to show you a pretty scene!”
She opened a side door which led into the grounds, and, quite
bewildered, Jack followed the graceful figure in black velvet and
pearls, with a crimson shawl wrapped about her shoulders. On to the
furthest extremity of the grounds, to the east gate. Rosamond halted,
and motioned Jack to be silent. In the clear moonlight everything was
visible, and this is what Jack Lyndon saw: The girl who only that
morning had promised to be his wife--Lillian Leigh--clasped close in
the arms of a man. And the pale radiance of the moonlight glinting
down upon the pair revealed to Jack’s agonized eyes--the form and face
of Richard Raleigh!
CHAPTER X.
ACCEPTED.
Lillian had gone to the rendezvous at the last gate with perfect
confidence, and with no thought of Richard Raleigh in her mind. The
night was very beautiful. The moonlight silvered all things, and by
its pale, clear radiance she made her way to the trysting-place. Her
heart was filled with quiet happiness. Jack loved her. To Lillian Leigh
the beginning and the end of all things was comprised in those words.
Jack loved her, and wanted her to be his wife. Of his poverty she never
thought. He earned a reasonable salary, and it requires but little to
keep two who are contented and satisfied with their lot in life--happy
in being together.
Lillian had never been rich. She had never known the pleasure of having
all the money that she wanted, a handsome home, rich dresses and costly
jewels, servants to command, and a carriage in which to ride. What
one has never possessed one can hardly miss; and she could see only
happiness and prosperity in the future for herself and Jack. Ah! there
never was any one like Jack! So handsome, so brilliant, so manly and
good! Her heart was thrilling with love and devotion toward Jack Lyndon
as she hastened to meet this stranger who had written and asked her to
come. A clew to her father’s murderer! The very thought made her heart
beat fierce and fast within her breast.
“He shall be brought to justice, no matter who he may be!” she
muttered, as she hurried onward.
The gate was reached at last, and Lillian came to a halt. There was
no one there. A rustic seat stood near under a huge beech-tree. She
seated herself and drew her white cloak closer about her shoulders.
“I wonder who it is and why he does not come?” she said to herself,
impatiently, and just a little frightened to be out alone at that hour
so far from the house.
Crash! through the underbrush came the sound of heavy footsteps. Pale
and frightened, Lillian started to her feet. The branches of the
beech-tree grew thickly around her, although denuded now of leaves. A
hand pushed the branches aside, and a tall, dark form loomed up before
her in the moonlight.
“Lillian!” exclaimed a voice.
One glance, and she fell back pale and trembling with horror too deep
for words.
“Mr. Raleigh!” she panted; “I did not expect to see _you_.”
He laughed--an unpleasant, sneering laugh.
“No, I suppose not. That was a surprise which I held in reserve for
you--a pleasant surprise, I trust, my dear. Lillian, listen to me. Do
not turn coldly away; I have something to say to you, and, so help me
Heaven, I mean every word that I utter! Lillian, I love you! Stop! I
mean no insult. I love you purely, honorably, with all my heart, and
I ask you to be my wife. Do not look so scornful; pause and reflect
before you decline an alliance with a Raleigh.”
She stood before him pale as marble, her large dark eyes lifted to his
face in wordless scorn.
“Mr. Raleigh, let me pass!” she commanded, coldly. But he caught her
hands in his own.
“Stay, Lillian. No, I do not intend to be violent or rude with you.
I ask you to listen quietly to me, as quietly as you would listen
to Lyndon--curse him!--if he were to make love to you as he does to
every woman who is foolish enough to listen to him. Ah, I guessed your
secret, my sweet Lillian; but when you have heard all that I have come
to say, I imagine that you will change your mind. Lillian, I wrote and
asked you to meet me here to-night that I might reveal the name of your
father’s murderer. It is more than a mere clew that I possess, Lillian
Leigh--I know the man who took your father’s life.”
She was trembling like an aspen, her white hands clasped, her dark eyes
shining like stars.
“His name!” she panted, hoarsely; “tell me his name, Mr. Raleigh!”
Richard Raleigh bent his head, and his dusky eyes studied her face with
a fierce, eager intensity.
“If I tell you what reward will you give me, Lillian?” he queried,
earnestly; “will you promise to be my wife?”
She threw back her head with a haughty gesture, and faced him with
fearless contempt.
“No! a thousand times, no!” she panted, angrily. “I can conceive of no
conditions, no circumstances, under which I would consent to marry you,
Richard Raleigh! You are a bad man, a base, wicked man, and I despise
and condemn you. And I have no right to listen to words of love from
you, for I am already betrothed!”
He started, his face flushing and paling alternately.
“Is it possible?” he cried. “Since when, may I ask? I have a good
reason for my question.”
“I promised to-day to be Mr. Lyndon’s wife!” she answered, proudly.
An awful look flashed over Raleigh’s face. He grew pale, and his eyes
held a strange, lurid, brassy light.
“Jack Lyndon! Curse him! He is always in my way!” he snarled. “He is
a gay Lothario, making love to every woman, every pretty face that he
meets. To my certain knowledge he has talked all sorts of soft nonsense
to Rosamond. He has other strings to his bow, and now you too. Oh,
Lillian,” in a tone of sad reproach and regret, “I would rather see
you dead than deceived and misled by Jack Lyndon. He is a notorious
lady-killer, and a man of no honor--”
“Stop! Not another word, Mr. Raleigh. I will not listen. Jack Lyndon is
good and true--upright and honorable. Such a nature as his is beyond
your comprehension.”
Richard Raleigh laughed.
“Beyond my comprehension? I grant that,” he returned, sardonically.
“But if you believe for a moment that Jack Lyndon is true to you, if
you believe for a second that when he is absent from you he does not
make love to other women--what, irresistible Jack! Beauty, as he is
called!--I will soon undeceive you. I have it in my power to do so.
Look!”
He took from the seat where he had placed it a field-glass of
remarkably strong magnifying power. By its aid any object could
be distinguished a half a mile away. Richard Raleigh arranged the
glass which he turned upon the drawing-room windows of the house. He
brought it within easy range by stepping into a side-path, clear from
obstructing trees and shrubbery.
A moment’s silence fell, then a voice full of triumph:
“Lillian, come, quick!”
She scarcely realized what she was doing. Under ordinary circumstances
Lillian Leigh would have shrunk from such an action; but almost before
she was aware of it, she found herself peering through the glass
straight in at Miss Raleigh’s drawing-room window. This is what she saw:
Rosamond Raleigh seated in a low velvet chair, and Jack Lyndon leaning
over her, gazing into her face with eager eyes, while one hand held
hers. Lillian turned away with a shudder.
Raleigh laughed sardonically.