CHAPTER XV

The rage of old Haidee Leveret at finding herself duped and outwitted by such a weak girl as Lily Lawrence was frightful to witness and impossible to describe. She raved, she stormed, she tore her scanty gray locks and blasphemed in the most frightful and blood-curdling terms.

In vain she tried the door-handle, in vain she shook the iron bars in the window. They resisted her most vigorous efforts.

In her terrible rage she fell to breaking and tearing everything in her room that could be destroyed. She threw down the dishes containing Lily's untasted dinner and shivered them into fragments. She tore off the bed-covers and rent them in pieces in the hight of her insane fury. If Lily had fallen into her cruel hands just then she would have killed her remorselessly.

At length, having sated her rage momentarily by wreaking it on those poor inanimate things, she began to quiet down somewhat and to consider the situation.

The enemy had worsted her, that was self-evident. Stratagem had succeeded against brute force and power.

Lily Lawrence had freed herself from captivity, and there was no one to pursue her and bring her back. Old Peter was not likely to return for several hours. If Lily's strength held out she would be safe in her home ere the old man could get back to town and carry the tidings to Doctor Pratt and Harold Colville.

Harold Colville had promised the old couple a most extravagant reward for the safe-keeping of his beautiful prisoner.

Not only did the loss of this trouble the old crone's mind, but also the fact that Lily would betray them all into the hands of the police and that exposure and punishment would follow on the discovery of the nefarious works which she and her husband had wrought for years. A species of abject terror filled her quaking frame at the thought. She thought of the miserly accumulations of her wicked life secreted beneath the roof of the old house, and dreaded lest her greedy eyes should never again be permitted to gloat over that golden hoard.

In the hight of these woful cogitations her thoughts suddenly recurred to the prisoner in the gloomy dungeon beneath her.

Poor Fanny Colville, whose hearing had been strained all day to detect the faintest sound from above, had been a frightened listener to old Haidee's fearful explosion of wrath.

She knew by the violence of the witch's rage that Lily had succeeded in her stratagem and effected her escape. The knowledge filled her with joy, even while she feared that rage would instigate Haidee to yet further cruelties against herself. The desire for life was yet strong in the breast of the poor starving creature, and she shrank in terror while she thought it was probable that old Haidee would kill her in her frantic desire to wreak vengeance upon something. Even while she shivered over her fear she heard the heavy footsteps lumbering down the stairs toward the dungeon.

"What! are you not dead yet, you she-devil?" was the fierce salutation that greeted her ears.

Her enemy advanced, and seizing hold of her crouching body as it lay upon the bed, shook it with the fury of a wild-cat until it seemed as if the poor bones must rattle. "What do you mean by living in this way? Must I kill you at last with my own hands?"

"Spare me," moaned the poor victim between her chattering teeth, "spare me yet a little longer, I am so young, and life is so sweet!"

"Sweet, you fool!" cried the old hag, desisting from sheer weariness, and letting go of the poor skeleton to glare fiercely at her. "What! Life is sweet, chained in a dungeon, in rags, on a crust of bread and a sup of water?"

"Yes, oh, yes!" faltered the poor creature, hoping to gain a little time so that deliverance from her bonds might come.

"Live then, you worm!" cried the old witch, throwing life at her poor victim with a curse. "Live as long as you can since you find it such a luxury!"

The shivering heap of rags and bones did not answer. Stamping about the floor, glaring at the frightened Fanny, her mood changed. She said retrospectively:

"After all you are not such a devil as she! You have not the spirit in your poor, crushed, beaten body! You have never even tried to escape from me and bring me to punishment! Why should I tread on you when you will not even turn like the worm? No, live, live! Never fear but you shall have your crust of bread and sup of water while Haidee remains here to bring it to you."

So saying she went out again, and Fanny wept tears of joy at her departure. But a little while now, she thought gladly, and Lily would be at home. Then to-morrow at the farthest her own deliverance would arrive. She thought of the loved ones she had never expected to see again, of the dear old mother and father in their old home in the country, and the affectionate girl's tears flowed like rain for very joy at the blissful hope of reunion.

Alas! poor Fanny!

It seemed many hours to Haidee before her husband and Doctor Pratt returned. It was very near sunset, for Doctor Pratt had been absent visiting a patient, and Peter had been forced to await his return.

When at last they came and knocked at the door she had to inform them, with a curse for every word, of Lily's escape. Then they were compelled to force the door open, for the brave girl had taken the key with her and thrown it away in the road.

As soon as Doctor Pratt heard her story he sprang into the buggy and drove into the city with furious haste in search of Colville. It was late before he found him, so that Lily was almost home before he learned the story.

"I suppose it is all up with us now," said Colville, after swearing an oath or two. "And we had better be getting away from town before we are arrested. I suppose she is at home by now."

"There is only one chance in ten that she is not," was the reply. "Her excessive weakness may have caused her to fall by the way. It seems impossible that one so debilitated by sickness should take so long a walk without resting."

"You think there is a chance of her recapture, then?" inquired Colville eagerly.

"There may be," was the cautious reply. "You see, if she is yet on the road we can watch for her near her home; and as it is getting dark it would be very easy to seize her and put her into a waiting carriage. After that there would be no difficulty. Chloroform would stifle her screams while we drove back to Leveret's with her."

"But the carriage driver, doctor. Might he not betray us?"

"I will drive my own carriage," answered Pratt. "We will stop near the corner of Mr. Lawrence's house. You will then get out and watch for her. If she should appear you will hastily throw a cloak over her head and carry her to the carriage."

"Well planned, doctor! Let us be going at once. Every moment is precious in this extremity."

"We must first purchase a bottle of chloroform, a sponge, and a long, water-proof cloak in which to envelope her form," said the doctor, recollecting precautions which Colville in his impetuosity was about forgetting.

These purchases were hastily made, and the two worthies stepped into the doctor's light carriage and drove rapidly away on their mission of evil.

They were not a minute too soon. As the carriage stopped at the corner a slight form hurried past, plainly visible in the light of the street-lamp.

"It is she!" said Pratt in a hasty whisper. He recognized her graceful form in spite of the disguising veil and sack.

Colville was stung to madness by the sight.

"I will have her," he declared with a terrible oath, "if I have to tear her from the arms of her lover!"

He sprang out and followed her. She had gone up the steps and rung the bell. Just as he came opposite the steps he saw old Willis open the door, and witnessed his headlong flight from the supposed spirit of his young mistress. As she glided into the house he ran lightly up the steps and followed her. She heard the footsteps of her pursuer and faintly moaned:

"Papa! papa!"

But in that moment, ere assistance could reach her, the gaslights were turned out by a steady hand; she was plucked backward by the skirt of her dress, and fell into Colville's arms, so muffled by the heavy cloak he threw over her that she could not breathe. Hardly clogged by the light burden in his arms he ran through the hall and down the steps before Lancelot Darling reached the door. It was but the work of a moment to reach the carriage and give his captive into the doctor's ready arms. He then sprang in himself and drove rapidly away with their beautiful captive.

CHAPTER XVI

Lily awakened from the temporary stupor induced by chloroform and found herself a prisoner again in the old familiar room. She was lying on the bed, and Doctor Pratt, grim, and satanic-looking as usual, sat by the side.

Harold Colville was also an occupant of the room, and Haidee Leveret, from the foot of the bed, gave her a fiendish scowl in answer to the glance she cast upon her.

"How do you feel after your journey this evening?" inquired the physician, with a sarcastic smile.

A glance of scorn from Lily's eyes fell upon him. She did not vouchsafe him any reply.

"I think you must begin to realize by this time that it is quite impossible for you to escape from us," continued Doctor Pratt. "You have now made two attempts which have resulted in nothing except to make us more vigilant than before in keeping you safely secured. Hereafter you will be doubly guarded by Haidee and Peter. He will accompany her and stand outside the room door whenever she has any business within. You are aware that the window is too heavily and strongly barred for you to tamper with it. You now see that there is no possible chance for you to make a third attempt to elude us."

There was no reply. Lily still regarded him with a flashing gaze full of scorn and contempt; but the villain went on, in no-wise disconcerted by her anger:

"It seems to me, Miss Lawrence, that your best and wisest course would be to thankfully accept Mr. Colville's proposals of marriage. Surely that cannot be such a terrible thing to do. There are many ladies who would be proud of the honor which he seeks to force upon you. Your former home is forever lost to you; you are as one dead to your family. They have seen you laid away in the tomb. If you went to them now they would not believe that you belonged to them; they would scout your story as impossible and yourself as an impostor. There remains, therefore, but one possible chance of restoration to your friends and to liberty, and that is to appear before them in the character of Mrs. Harold Colville."

"Mr. Colville has already had an answer to his proposals," answered Lily, firmly. "I will die before I accept liberty on these terms!"

"Do not allow any scruples in regard to Mr. Darling to influence your decision," interrupted Colville, speaking for the first time, "for I can assure you, on the honor of a gentleman, Miss Lawrence, that he has transferred his fickle affections to the wily widow who tried to murder you in order that she might steal into his heart and win his hand and fortune."

"It is false; Lancelot has not forgotten me so soon," cried Lily, warmly.

But though she defended her lover's loyalty so bravely, there flashed over her mind a remembrance of the scene she had momentarily witnessed last night—Mrs. Vance at the grand piano, playing and singing softly, her lover—her handsome, kingly Lancelot—bending over her as he turned the pages of her music.

She had thought nothing of it then; but in the light of Harold Colville's bold assertion it seemed to her terribly significant.

"I do not wonder that my assertion taxes your credulity," returned Colville, with a maddening smile. "It seemed almost beyond belief when it first came to my knowledge. Not yet three months from your supposed death, I can scarcely understand how the man who lacked but a few hours of being your husband could console himself with the smiles of another so soon. But he is young and impressible, and I grant you she is rarely beautiful, and gifted with consummate art."

"I can add my testimony to Mr. Colville's assertion," said Doctor Pratt. "Your lover has, indeed, been beguiled into forgetfulness of his grief by the fascination of the charming widow. They are now acknowledged lovers!"

"I do not believe it," answered Lily, proudly. "Do you think I would take your word, Harold Colville, or yours, Doctor Pratt, for the truth? You have proved yourselves villains, and I do not place the least confidence in your assertions. You tell me these things believing I will the more readily yield to your wishes. But you are mistaken—sadly mistaken! I tell you now that if Lancelot Darling should marry Mrs. Vance to-morrow it would not make any difference in my rejection of a villain's suit!"

Both the worthies glared at her with fierce wrath.

"So be it," said Colville, angrily. "But remember, you will remain a prisoner until you accede to my wishes, no matter how long you hold out. Haidee, you need not provide so sumptuously for so contumacious a captive. Let bread and water be her portion until her rebellious spirit is broken. I will see her again in a month's time. Come, doctor; come, Haidee; let us leave her to the pleasures of solitary contemplation."

All three retired; the door, which had been provided with another key, was securely locked, and she was left again in her loneliness and bitter sorrow.

Weak and weary with her long journey and unbroken fast she lay still, her limbs aching with fatigue and her heart almost broken with sorrow.

Her momentary glimpse of her dear ones had filled her heart with a wild flood of new tenderness for them. She had come back to them from the dead, and she felt that they would have been filled with the deepest joy in receiving her again.

She had been so cruelly torn from them in the very moment when they first caught sight of her! She wondered what they would think.

"Perhaps they will share old Willis' delusion that it was a spirit," thought she, with a flood of tears.

She had almost forgotten Fanny in the bitter anguish of being retaken thus in the very moment of impending re-union with her family.

But presently she heard the clank of the poor captive's chain, as she turned restlessly on her hard bed, and caught the sound of her groans.

"Poor Fanny," she thought, "how will she bear this sad disappointment when she hoped so much from my escape!"

Weak and trembling she rose from the bed, and taking the lamp in her hand staggeringly descended the stairs in quest of her poor companion in captivity and sorrow.

Fanny lay extended on the cot, moaning piteously. She cried out in surprise and terror, fearing that Haidee had returned to threaten and abuse her. But she soon saw that it was the sweet face of the captive girl that beamed upon her.

"My God, Miss Lawrence, is it you?" she said. "I thought, I hoped that you had escaped!"

Lily threw herself down upon the hard stone floor and wept piteously. The trial was hard upon herself, as affecting her own individual welfare.

Now the burden of this poor creature's sorrow added to the weight of her own made it almost insupportable. It was some time before she could summon sufficient calmness to relate her mournful story to the suffering creature.

"It is all over," she said in conclusion. "There is no hope of escape from our prison, and death is before us."

Fanny lay still, moaning now and then in pain. She made no attempt to rise, and at last Lily noticed the fact.

"What is the matter with you, my poor soul?" said she. "Are you worse? Are you unable to rise?"

"I cannot raise my head," answered the poor girl patiently, "my poor bones have been shaken and beaten terribly by old Haidee. I am very stiff and sore."

As well as she could she related the story of old Haidee's rage at her captive's escape, her descent into the dungeon and her wild onslaught on her starving captive. Lily wept at the recital of Fanny's sufferings.

"She was wreaking her rage at my escape, upon you, poor Fanny," said she. "Oh! God, why dost thou allow the wicked thus to triumph over the weak and the innocent?"

"Are you much hurt? Do you think you can survive it?" she asked presently in anxious tones.

"I don't know. I am very sore at present. There seems very little life left in me. Perhaps it would be better if I should die," said the poor creature despondently. The little spark of hope awakened in her breast by Lily's escape was dead now, and despair had claimed her for its own. Lily knelt by the cot and felt her hands. They were cold and clammy, and chilly dews stood upon the wasted brow. Lily started. Could this be death that was stealing over the poor captive? She feared it was, but she was afraid to linger longer lest old Haidee should find her out. She rose reluctantly.

"I wish I could stay with you, Fanny," said she. "It seems hard to leave you suffering thus alone. But if old Haidee should find me, she might kill you for fear I should betray her. So it seems that I must go. Good-night."

Lily took the poor, wasted hand and pressing it gently, went away, fearing that the few sands of life remaining to Harold Colville's injured wife were fast running out.