That Affair at Elizabeth, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  The Lover's Story

  I paused, as soon as we reached the pavement, for a look about me. Wewere evidently in the fashionable quarter of the town. The street waswide, well-kept, and shaded by stately elms. The houses which stretchedaway on either hand had that spaciousness, that air of dignity andquiet, which bespeaks wealth and leisure. Here was no gaudyarchitecture, no flamboyant flourish of the newly-rich; rather theevidence of families long-settled in their present surroundings andlong-accustomed to the luxuries of a cultured and generous existence.

  But it was to the house directly before us that I gave the closestscrutiny. It was a large one, two-storied, with a wide veranda runningacross the entire front. It stood well back from the street, and wassheltered on each side by magnificent trees. The grounds seemed to bevery extensive and were beautifully kept. Along the pavement, a curiouscrowd was loitering, kept in motion by a policeman, but staring at thehouse as though they expected to read the solution of the mystery in itsinexpressive front.

  Mr. Royce nodded to the officer, and we passed through the gate. As wewent up the walk, I noticed that the blinds were closely drawn, asthough it were a house of mourning--and, indeed, dead hopes enough laythere!

  A maid admitted us, and when my companion inquired for Mr. Curtiss, ledthe way silently along the hall. In the dim light, I could see thedecorations of palms and wreaths of smilax, relieved here and there by amass of gorgeous bloom, and through a door to the right I caught aglimpse of many tables, set ready for the luncheon which was never to beeaten. There was something ghostly about the deserted rooms--somethingchilling in the thought of this arrested gaiety, these hopes forhappiness so rudely shattered. It recalled that vision which had soastonished poor Pip--the vision of Miss Havisham, decked in her yellowwedding finery, sitting at her gilded dressing-table in the darkenedroom, with the bride-cake cobwebbed and mouldy, and the chairs set readyfor the guests who were never to arrive. Only here, I reflected, theclocks should be stopped at noon, not at twenty minutes to nine!

  We turned into a room which I saw to be the library, and a man sprang upas we entered.

  "Royce!" he cried, and there was in his tone such an agony of entreatythat I knew instantly who he was.

  "No; no news, Burr," said our junior; "but here's Mr. Lester, and if anyone can suggest a solution of this mystery, I'm sure he can. Lester,this is Burr Curtiss."

  As I shook hands with him, I told myself that Mr. Royce's descriptionhad been well within the truth. I could join with him in saying that Ihad never seen a handsomer man or a more attractive one, though in hiseyes, as I met them, misery and anxiety were only too apparent.

  "It was very kind of you to come, Mr. Lester," he said.

  "Not at all," I protested. "I only hope I can be of some service."

  "Royce has told you----"

  "Only the bare facts," I said. "I'd like to have all the details of thestory, if you'll be so kind as to give me them."

  "Certainly," he assented instantly, as we sat down. "That's what I wishto do--I know how important details are."

  He paused for a moment, to be sure of his self-control, and I had thechance to look at him more closely. His face was not only comely, it wasstrong, magnetic. The black hair and eyes bespoke a vigoroustemperament; the full beard, closely cropped, served rather toaccentuate the fine lines of mouth and chin. There was no superfluousflesh about the face--no puffiness; it was thin with the healthythinness which tells of a busy life, and browned by exposure to wind andsun. It was, altogether, a manly face, not the merely handsome one whichI had rather expected. My eyes were drawn especially to his hand as hepassed it hastily across his forehead--a hand firm, white, with slightlytapering fingers--an artist's hand which one would scarcely connect withan engineer of construction.

  "There's really very little I can tell you," he said, at last. "When Isaw Marcia this morning----"

  His voice choked, and he paused, unable, for the moment, to go on.

  "Let us begin farther back than that, Mr. Curtiss," I suggested, knowingthat the beginning was the hardest part. "Mr. Royce tells me you wereclassmates. When did you graduate from college?"

  "Seven years ago."

  "And you came at once to New York?"

  "Yes, to take the examination for the Pennsylvania road."

  "You were given a place on the road at once?"

  "Yes--not a very important place, but one with a chance for promotion,which was all I asked. I was stationed at Pittsburg for three years andthen called east to work on the division between New York andPhiladelphia. A year ago, I was made assistant at the headquartersoffice."

  "Rather a remarkable career," I commented, smiling.

  "Not at all," he protested quickly. "I liked the work, and I was wellequipped."

  I saw that I should have to revise my opinion of him--certainly he wasnot conceited.

  "When did you meet Miss Lawrence?" I asked.

  "Last December--the tenth, to be quite accurate--just six months agoto-day----"

  Again his voice trailed away into a sort of hoarse whisper, though hetried desperately to control it.

  "Won't you tell me about it?"

  "Is it necessary?" he questioned miserably. "I--I don't want to talk."

  "I know you don't, and I don't want to make you. But if I'm to help, Imust know the whole story."

  "Pardon me, Mr. Lester," he said, pulling himself together by a mightyeffort. "Of course you must. Only give me time. I'm--I'm----"

  "All the time in the world," I assured him, and settled back in my chairto listen.

  "We had a bad grade-crossing just east of Elizabeth," he began, after amoment, in a steadier tone. "It was an ugly place, with the drivewaycoming down a stiff hill and meeting our tracks at an angle whichprevented a clear view of them. We kept a flagman there, of course, butnevertheless accidents happened right along. A skittish horse, oncestarted down the hill and frightened perhaps by the whistle and rumbleof the approaching train, would be pretty hard to stop."

  I nodded. I had seen just such murderous crossings.

  "So the company determined to build a viaduct there, and last Decembersent me out to look over the ground. I reached there about nine o'clockin the morning, and by noon had all my data and was ready to come backto the city.

  "'Can you flag this train for me, John?' I asked the flagman, as I hearda whistle down the line.

  "'No, sir,' he answered; 'can't do it, sir. That's the limited, butthere'll be a local along ten minutes after it.'

  "'All right,' I said, and went up the bank a bit to sit down and waitfor it.

  "The limited whistled again, just around the curve, and then I heard theflagman give a yell and start up the hill, waving his flag like mad. Ijumped up and saw that a buggy containing two women had just starteddown and that the horse was beyond control. It didn't take me above aminute to run over, get the horse by the bridle, and stop him. I heldthe track record for everything up to the half-mile while I was atSheff," he added, with a little apologetic smile.

  I nodded again; only, I thought, I should like to hear the flagman tellthe story.

  "The horse had knocked me about a bit," he went on, "and kicked me onthe legs once or twice, so when I let go the bridle I was a littlewobbly--made a fool of myself, I suppose. Anyway, I was bundled into thebuggy and taken back to Elizabeth, where the women lived."

  "Yes," I encouraged him, for he seemed to have come to a full stop; "andthen?"

  "Well, they took me home with them and fixed me up as though I were aplaster baby. The elder woman introduced herself as Mrs. Lawrence andthe younger as her daughter Marcia. They made me stay for tea----"

  He stopped again.

  "I don't know how to tell the rest, Mr. Lester," he blurted out. "OnlyMarcia Lawrence was the divinest woman I ever met. Royce used to laughat me for having an ideal."

  "Yes, he told me," I said.

  "Well, I knew instantly that I'd found her. And she was very good tome--better than I kn
ew how to deserve. Three months ago, she promised tobe my wife--we were to have been married at noon to-day----"

  He sat with bowed head and working face, unable to go on.

  "We were happy--she was happy, I know it!" he cried fiercely, after amoment. "There wasn't a cloud--not a single cloud! It was too perfect, Isuppose--too perfect for this world. I've heard that perfect thingsdon't last. But I don't understand--I can't understand!"

  "Mr. Royce told me she'd disappeared," I said gently.

  "Disappeared utterly!" He was on his feet now and striding madly up anddown the room, his self-control gone from him. "There wasn't a cloud, Itell you; not the slightest breath of suspicion or distrust orunhappiness. Last night, some of her friends here gave a littlereception for her, and she was the gayest of the gay. This morning,about ten o'clock, I called to see her; she seemed very happy--kissed megood-bye until we should meet at the church."

  A convulsive shudder shook him. I saw how near he was to breaking down.

  "Let me tell the rest, Burr," said a low voice from the door, and Iturned to see a woman standing there--a woman dressed in black, with aface of unusual sweetness, but shadowed by a great sorrow.