The Bride of the Tomb and Queenie's Part 41

They had remained below long enough to remove their disguises, without which they had been afraid to visit her.

They would not have felt so secure if they had known that the lynx-eyed detective, Mr. Shelton, was pacing up and down the road in front of the house, laughing in his sleeve at the ineffectual trouble they had taken in disguising themselves.

Mr. Shelton had seen this house before, knew that it was a madhouse, was acquainted with the name of the proprietor, and knew also that he was suspected at the police headquarters of being engaged in a fraudulent business, and that a descent upon the house for the purpose of verifying suspicion was meditated.

"Ah! Miss Lawrence, good-evening," said Doctor Pratt, airily. "I trust you find yourself in better health and spirits than when we last met."

Lily turned her head away without replying, while Colville, bending over her, whispered gallantly:

"Ah, my obdurate fair one, have you relented yet?"

"No," answered Lily, briefly and coldly, withdrawing the hand he had tried to take in his own.

"I hoped your mind had changed in the long interval since we last met,"

said he, taking a seat near her.

Doctor Pratt had already taken a chair by the grated window.

"You were mistaken," she answered, coldly, as before.

"I think you will admit that I have waited long and patiently on your pleasure, Lily," said he, in a tone of expostulation.

Lily lifted her large blue eyes for a moment and looked at him with a glance in which contempt and weariness were blended.

"Mr. Colville," she said, quietly, "pray spare yourself the useless discussion of that subject. You had my answer long ago. I a.s.sure you my decision is unalterable."

"But, Lily, reflect a moment. Would not a union with me be preferable to a lifetime of isolation and weariness here?"

"No," she answered, steadily. "Even the wretched existence I drag out here among the insane inhabitants of this place is far more welcome to me than the hated thought of a union with you!"

"I am sorry you think so," he answered, in tones of bitter sarcasm, "as, unfortunately, I do not propose to give you any choice in the matter."

"What do you mean?" she inquired, with a thrill of indefinable fear creeping coldly around her heart.

He saw the look of terror that came into her eyes, and, villain though he was, he hesitated before speaking out what was in his mind. He glanced at Dr. Pratt and took courage from the gleam of that villain's eyes.

"I mean," he answered, in a low voice of concentrated rage and bitterness, "that your obstinacy has at length worn out my patience, and I have determined to take my own way in the matter regardless of your will."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, in a quivering voice, while her young face blanched to a deathly hue.

"I am going to make you my wife without your consent," he answered, grimly.

"You cannot!" she answered, with dilating eyes and a trembling voice.

"It would be no marriage if I refused to consent."

"So much the worse for you, then," he answered, laughing harshly, "for the marriage ceremony shall certainly be read over us, and that will be entirely sufficient for me. I shall surely consider you my wife, then, and take you to my heart without further scruples."

"No holy man of G.o.d would perform such an unhallowed ceremony," said she incredulously.

"Do not delude yourself thus, my sweet girl," he laughed mockingly. "A _bona fide_ priest is already engaged for the important occasion. Will you be pleased to appoint the happy day?"

"Never!" she flashed out bitterly.

"You force me then to usurp your feminine privilege," he answered coolly. "And in that case your womanly vanity can of course pardon the impatient ardor of a lover who has waited humbly and patiently as I have done. To-morrow, then, shall witness our bridal!"

"To-morrow!" she cried, springing up and clasping her small hands together in helpless agony. "To-morrow! Oh! no, you do not mean it! You will not be so cruel?"

"You will see!" he answered. "I have made every preparation for the event, even to our bridal tour. To-morrow a steamer leaves her wharf for Europe. I have secured our pa.s.sage, and this morning sent aboard of her a trunk well filled with feminine apparel for your use during the voyage. Of course you will select your bridal _trousseau_ after we arrive at Paris. I shall not deny my beautiful bride any luxury. It only remains for me to inform you that I will bring a priest out here to-morrow, and our marriage shall be duly celebrated before we take pa.s.sage for the Old World."

Lily remained standing, gazing at the scheming villain with dilated blue eyes, and lips and cheeks blanched to the pallid whiteness of death.

Harold Colville laughed mockingly.

"You may stare, fair one," he said. "To-morrow shall see you my wife. No power can save you."

"No power!" she repeated, gazing at him with flas.h.i.+ng eyes. "No power!

Oh! blasphemer, do you forget that there is a G.o.d above who cares for the innocent and punishes the guilty? Beware, lest His vengeance fall upon you in the hour of your fancied triumph!"

She looked like some beautiful, inspired prophetess as she faced him with a lifted hand that seemed to menace him with evil.

Her golden hair had become loosened from its fastenings and streamed over her shoulders, gleaming around her lovely pallid features like a halo of light.

For a moment Harold Colville quailed before her with something like fear of that dread tribunal with whose vengeance she threatened him.

His heart sank strangely within him, while hers, for the moment, thrilled with a presentiment of coming deliverance.

Surely if "coming events cast their shadows before," both the guilty Harold Colville and the wronged Lily Lawrence were gifted with a momentary prescience of that which was hastening to them in the near future.

Doctor Pratt saw the subtle shadow settling over Colville's pale features, and arose hastily.

"Come, come, Miss Lawrence," he said harshly. "These tragedy airs would be very fine on the stage, but they are out of place here. Spare yourself so much unnecessary exertion; you will most certainly become Mr. Colville's wife to-morrow. Instead of this useless defiance let me advise you to cultivate a spirit of meekness and submission. It is useless to threaten us with the punishment of G.o.d. We do not believe in Him!"

She was walking restlessly up and down the floor, and made him no answer, save one scathing flash from her brilliant eyes. He turned away with a laugh of derision.

"Come, Colville, let us go," he said. "Other matters demand our attention now. We must arrange matters with Dr. Heath before we go."

Colville paused at the door and looked at the young girl restlessly pacing the floor.

"To-morrow, then, my fair and obdurate love," said he. "To-morrow! Until then, adieu!"

No word or motion betrayed that she heard him.

He closed and locked the door, going away with the exultant thought that this was his last parting from his beautiful captive.

She heard the sound of the receding footsteps, and fell on her knees, lifting up her convulsed face in a pa.s.sionate appeal to G.o.d that He would deliver her from the snares of these wicked men.

They went down-stairs and were closeted some time with Doctor Heath.

When they went away a large roll of bills was pa.s.sed from the purse of Harold Colville to the pocket of the complacent little insane-doctor.