The White Rose of Memphis
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“You have knocked the foundation from under my story, for you have told it yourself – and I must ask you to give me back my glove. It is mine, and here is the scar made by the bite of the squirrel.”
“Good Heavens! Have I the honor to again meet Miss Kate Darlington?”
“If you will leave out the honor part, I will answer, Yes! And I have the pleasure to meet Captain Ralleigh Burk, I presume.”
“You have guessed my name, at any rate – but was it true, Scottie (pardon me please, but I mean to call you Scottie all the time, for I like it), that you did love me?”
“Oh, you must not ask impertinent questions; you know we were joking when we commenced it.”
“No, I don’t! for I never was more in earnest in all my life. I have kissed this little glove a thousand times; and the dear image of the Pearl river girl has been indelibly stamped on my heart. It has been two years since I last saw you, and it has seemed an age to me. I was sure that you were going to marry that other fellow with the red hair.”
“Oh, no! I detest red hair – and then I never could marry a man unless I loved him. The fact is, it wouldn’t do for me to marry at all, for I have such a temper.”
“Oh, bother the temper! I am willing to risk it. Laying all jokes aside, I love you devotedly, and won’t you promise to be my wife?”
“If I lose my temper and break your head with the broom handle, you won’t beat me?”
“No.”
“If I break up the furniture, while in a passion, you’ll go and buy more?”
“Yes.”
“Very well, I’ll take your case under advisement, and give you an answer when we get back home, provided you don’t conclude to withdraw the proposition before it is too late.”
“See here, Scottie, this is a matter of too much importance to me to be made the subject of a joke; I don’t believe you mean to wound my feelings, yet I had rather you would not use so much levity about it. I loved you at first sight, and meant to ask you then to marry me, but your father seemed to dislike me so that I was afraid.”
“In the first place, Mr. Burk – ”
“Pshaw! Scottie, don’t call me Mr. Burk, but call me Ralleigh.”
“If it pleases you, then be it so. Well, Ralleigh Burk, in the first place, I am not joking; and in the second place, you were very much mistaken when you concluded that my father disliked you. He had a supreme contempt for what he called stern-wheel politicians.”
“Oh, yes, I see; and he set me down in his mind as a stern-wheel politician.”
“I don’t say that, mind you, but he looked upon you as the villagers did on the old dog Tray, who was found in bad company. You see how it is, don’t you?”
“I think I do.”
“Well, now, I think my father would forgive you if you could satisfy him that you had quit politics and gone into some legitimate business.”
“Do you, indeed? how kind that would be of him! but suppose I had not quit politics, and that I had not gone into any legitimate business – in fact, suppose it should appear that I have not gone into anything except debt?”
“I think it would prevent your going into our family.”
“Then I suppose he would not object to my going head foremost into the Mississippi river?”
“Oh, by no means; I think he would rather see you do that than to see you in the Mississippi Legislature.”
“And may I ask which catastrophe would be most to your liking?”
“The cold water treatment, by long odds.”
“Thank you. I must say that I admire your candor, but not your sentiment.”
“Spoken like a man; I glory in your grit. You’re on my platform, for I have sworn never to marry a man unless I loved him.”
“Scottie, you are a little darling, and that’s a fact, and I want you to try to love me if you can; and if you can’t, just tell me so, and I’ll either go to the bottom of the river or to the Mississippi Legislature, and never bother you any more.”
“Hold your head down, so I can whisper something in your ear: I don’t think you will have to drown yourself, or go to the Legislature.”
“No? oh, won’t that be jolly! You have removed a mountain from my mind. Let us go dance a while, else I’ll do something foolish.”
“You talk as if you hadn’t been doing that all the evening; but you will excuse me, for I don’t wish to dance. I like to gaze out on the bright water and see the moonbeams dancing on it. I like to feel the soft, balmy air as it kisses my cheeks. I like to feel the gentle motion of the boat, and watch the white waves of steam as they go rolling up from the pipes. It is so sweet to sit here and listen to the soft notes of the music as it comes stealing up from the saloon and mingling with the dull sound of the puffing pipes. I love to listen to the regular clatter of the wheels – they make such pleasant music as they strike the water. The fact is, I am very happy, and could sit here and dream all night, without going to sleep. Oh, these wide-awake day dreams; how delightful they are! I am in one of those dreamy moods now, and wouldn’t exchange that feeling for anything on earth!”
“All right, Scottie; I think I’ll join you in a dream or two; but I am so happy I cannot be still.”
“But you must be still if you remain here. I have made up my mind to have a dream, and don’t mean to be disturbed. There, now, take a seat and let us watch the moon till she passes that cloud yonder.”
“Scottie, let the moon alone; it is a fickle planet, anyway, and I am afraid you will learn its bad habits. If you will do me the honor to take my arm, we will have a stroll. We can quarrel as well while walking as we can while sitting here.”
“I suppose I will have to do it, as there is no getting rid of you. But I want you to tell me if you have made any new discoveries in regard to the black domino?”
“Nothing of any consequence; only it is certain that she is watching Ingomar in such a way as to convince me that she is shadowing him for some purpose. My spy has been very vigilant, but has encountered many difficulties. The black domino seems to be suspicious of every one who approaches her, and positively refuses to be interviewed. When she retires to her state-room she always locks the door, and don’t even let the chamber-maid enter while she is there. This fact alone is enough to convince me that she has a secret. The chamber-maid tells me that she heard the black domino whispering to the old gentleman with the long beard this morning. She was not close enough to hear all that was said, but she heard the woman say that she was determined to end this intolerable suspense very soon. There appeared to be a difference of opinion between the old man and the black domino, and the chamber-maid said she thought that they were quarreling – however, as to that she was not very positive. What do you think it all means, Scottie?”
“Why do you ask me such a question, when you know I am dying of that terrible disease so prevalent among our sex, known as curiosity. What wouldn’t I give to know who and what she is? It seems to me that if the chamber-maid were to try she might find out something.”
“It does look so, but nevertheless she has not done it – that is to say, she has done comparatively nothing; but we have not abandoned the field yet, by a great deal.”
“Anything further from the Mississippi detectives yet?”
“No – only a confirmation of what we have heard heretofore. It is certain that Ingomar is to be arrested as soon as the boat arrives at Vicksburg. I regret to tell you that we shall have to part with him then.”
“I hope he will have time to finish his story before he is arrested. The truth of the matter is, I think it is our duty to tell him all we have heard anyway.”
“No, no; that would not only be aiding a criminal to escape, but it would be to some extent criminal on our part. No; let us have nothing whatever to do with it. But, Scottie, haven’t you told the queen already what you know about Ingomar?”
“No, not a word. I’ll have you to know I am no talebearer. Didn’t I promise you I would keep the secret? Of course I did; and then how dare you ask me such a question?”
“I beg pardon; I ought to be pitched overboard; don’t you think I ought?”
“Certainly I do, and should go about having it done, but it would make all the fish quite ill.”
“Perhaps it would; but I have no idea of being pitched into the river. I know I shall have pleasant dreams to-night, while the dear image of some one will float before my mind.”
Ivanhoe then bade Scottie good-night and retired to his state-room, while his heart swelled with joy. He had at last found a haven of rest for his heart, which for two years had been worrying itself about the beautiful girl from Pearl river.
CHAPTER XVIII
Immediately after breakfast next morning, Queen Mary and her party re-assembled at the usual place, where Ingomar was ordered to resume his narrative. All of the maskers were in their places, eager to hear the balance of the story; and Ingomar, without loss of time, began as follows:
“As soon as Dabbs and Tadpoddle left the office Harry began to pace the floor rapidly, with his head hanging on his breast, while I could see from the working of the muscles of his face that he was making a desperate effort to get his feelings under control. After walking the floor for some time in silence he abruptly confronted me, and fixed his eyes on me as if to read my thoughts, then said:
“‘She is guilty, and my career is nearly ended. I cannot survive it, and to tell you the truth, I do not wish to, for I never shall have confidence in any woman again. I shall even lose confidence in Lottie.’
“‘Stop, Harry, I pray you; don’t talk so; you will be sorry for this one of these days. Let us not abandon all hopes yet. It is possible that this is a mistake, after all.’
“‘No, no; I understand your motive, and appreciate it, but it is useless to dodge the question; Viola is lost – lost forever! Oh, God! have mercy on this poor girl. But for the sin of the thing, I would kill myself now, and be rid of this intolerable suffering. There is a burning fire in my bosom, and I can feel its consuming flames devouring my vitals. Oh, how I did love that girl! how I worshiped her! So beautiful. So enchanting! How could one so lovely be so wicked? My doom is sealed – the blow to me is fatal. I feel it here. Let it come – the sooner the better. Bowles must die, though. It is a mystery to me why such men should be tolerated in a city like this, where they can rob and murder men, and ruin innocent girls with impunity. If a poor wretch whose wife and children are starving steals a side of bacon to keep the dear ones alive, he is hurried off to the penitentiary in double-quick time; but the well-dressed thief who steals his thousands, corrupts youth, ruins young girls, and dines his friends, is permitted to walk the streets as the lion of the day. It is not only so in Memphis, but I am told it is so in many other cities. How such unscrupulous wretches should be permitted to ply their avocations of robbery among people who make pretensions to civilization is a puzzle to me. But I mean to have a settlement with Mr. Bowles. He is the same fellow who, many years ago, insulted Lottie at our camp, then committed perjury when I was on trial. I have that little affair scored against him; but that is nothing compared with the late business.’
“‘Harry, I would advise you not to let Viola know that you think she is guilty, because if you do she certainly will discard you forever. I am sure she never would forgive you the second time. You have not forgotten what trouble you had to get her to pardon your first error; and you had better be very cautious how you act now. She is as proud and sensitive as you are, and if you offend her again she never will forgive you.’
“‘I will, under no circumstances, attempt to conceal my opinions; if she asks me for the truth, you may be assured she will hear it. I adhere to the doctrine that honesty is the best policy. I never have told a deliberate falsehood, and never will.’
“‘Would it not be best, then, for you not to see her until we know more about the case? for she will be certain to find out what you think, and then, my word for it, she will discard you.’
“‘Do you think I would care if she did? You don’t imagine that I expect to marry her, do you?’
“‘But suppose you go and tell her you think she is guilty, and then afterward, when it is too late, you find out that she is innocent – don’t you see what an awkward predicament you then would be in?’
“‘Eddie, please don’t try to deceive me. You know she is guilty. Is not the proof overwhelming? Didn’t I cling to the idea of her innocence until the last prop was knocked away? But I am determined to see her and demand an explanation. It is but fair to give her a chance. She shall know what we have heard, and she then must tell what she knows about it.’
“‘Harry, you will live to regret this step, and I want you to understand that you take it contrary to my advice and wishes. If you would let the whole matter rest in the hands of the detectives until the evidence shall be brought out I think it would be better.’
“‘Let the responsibility rest on me. I must and will see Viola once more, and then leave her in the hands of Him who knows the secrets of all hearts. I will go and see her now; meantime you go and talk to Mr. Rockland, and don’t think about me at all. I must now steer my own canoe. My mind is made up, and no power on earth can change it.’
“He then abruptly left the office and went toward the jail. I trembled to see the strange wild look in his eyes as he passed out. Mischief was brewing, and I could see it as plain as daylight – but how to prevent it I knew not. I remained in my seat for some time, undecided as to the best course to be pursued. I knew that I must act promptly, but what or how to do I could not decide. After Harry had been gone about thirty minutes, it occurred to me that I ought to go and talk to Lottie and let her know the bad news we had heard, and persuade her to keep Harry and Viola apart until something more definite could be ascertained. I knew that if Harry should see Viola while his mind was in its present condition, something serious would be sure to transpire. I hastened to the jail, but was too late to prevent the meeting. Lottie met me at the entrance, and I saw from her looks that she had suspected something.
“‘Oh, Eddie,’ she said, as she held out both hands for me to shake, ‘what on earth is the matter with Harry? He came here just now, looking for all the world just like a ghost. He was as pale as death, and I thought he was going to fall down and die at my feet. He staggered from one side of the hall to the other like a drunken man, told me he wished to be alone with Viola, and requested me to stay out of the room until he called me. His eyes showed a wild, unsettled expression, such as I have seen mad men have. What does it mean?’
“‘Lottie, something awful has happened; but I can’t stop to tell you now. We must look after Harry – get him away from here as soon as possible. Go in; you must persuade him to go home with you.’
“‘Good Heavens! did you hear that groan? That was Viola – come, quick!’
“I followed her into the room, and at a glance perceived that we had come too late – the mischief had been done. That Harry was absolutely crazy for the time being was as plain as could be. Viola was leaning against the bed-post, pale and trembling, while Harry was passing across the room like an angry tiger in its cage. Lottie was by Viola’s side in an instant.
“‘What is it?’ she inquired, as she took hold of her arm. ‘Tell me what has happened, I beseech you!’
“‘Your gallant brother there I think could tell you better than I could,’ replied Viola, as she drew herself up to her full height. She looked like a queen who had received an insult from one of her subjects. Such a look of scorn as she cast upon Harry as she spoke I never had seen flash from a woman’s eyes before. Her cheeks were red with anger, and her frame seemed to grow taller. ‘Yes, Lottie, your gallant brother can enlighten you as to what has happened.’ Then addressing herself to Harry, she said: ‘Why, Mr. Wallingford, didn’t you tell your sister how you sat quietly in your chair and heard those two penitentiary birds say that I was the mistress of a blackleg gambler, and didn’t kill them? You saved my life when I was a child, and I thought you were a brave hero. Every story I read where a hero was described I coupled your name with, and my childish mind pictured you as greater and braver than all of them. I loved you for your courage; I thought of you by day – I dreamed about you at night. My love grew as I grew, until my poor heart was full to overflowing. The followers in Mohammed never had stronger faith in him than I had in you. Your image floated before my young mind as my beau ideal of all that was brave, noble, generous and kind. I studied by day and by night, in order to make myself worthy of such a hero. My love grew into worship, and if every man, woman and child on earth had told me you were not a brave, generous hero, I would not have believed it. I wore your image next to my heart, and no heathen ever worshiped his idol with half the devotion that I worshiped you. My love was my life – it was my happiness – it was my religion – it was my all! You told me you loved me – you took me to your heart and whispered sweet words of love into my ear – you almost killed me with joy. Then you cast me off and declared that you were joking, and that you never could think of marrying me. I was crazed with grief; and as soon as I got so I could bear the awful affliction, you came and renewed the protestations of love. You offered excuses for your former conduct. I believed you. You swore in the most solemn language that you always had loved me. I credited it, and you asked me to be your wife. I yielded because I loved – nay, the word love is too weak a term to be used – I worshiped you – I adored you. I thought my love was returned – I thought you were perfection itself. In view of all these things, how could you sit and hear my name blackened by a pair of penitentiary convicts, and not kill them? You heard them say I was the mistress of a common blackleg gambler, and did not resent it. Is this the brave hero whose picture I have worn on my heart for ten long years? How could I have been so blinded as to worship such an object? And then, to cap the climax, you come here and ask me to explain why I was in the habit of visiting the apartments of Mr. Bowles continually. Leave me and my affairs in the hands of God – to Him I will render an account of my conduct in this business, but to you never! I have no fears as to my fate. Death to me now would be welcome – why should I wish to live where no one will befriend me? Let them hang me high as Haman – let my name be bandied about the streets as the vilest of the vile. Why should I care, since the only one I loved or cared for thinks me guilty? Let them hang me first and then throw my body in a felon’s grave. God, who knows the secrets of all hearts, will take care of my soul. You may go now, Mr. Wallingford; I have no more to say, only to demand that you desist from any further interference in my affairs. Make out an account of all expenses you have incurred and present them to my guardian, and I will see that they are paid. You may go, now, as I wish to be left alone.’
“If Harry heard what she had been saying, he paid but little attention to it; but when she ceased, instead of leaving the room as she had ordered him to do, he stood like a statue, gazing vacantly before him.
“‘Mr. Wallingford, again I tell you I wish to be left alone.’ As she spoke she pointed toward the door, and her manner was such as to convince me that it would be better for Harry to leave. Acting upon that conclusion, I led him from the room, and went with him to his office. He spoke not, nor did he make any objections to being taken away – in fact, I didn’t think he exactly comprehended what had been said, though he afterward spoke of it as if it were a painful dream. I had often seen him under the influence of excitement, but I had never beheld him in such a state as he was then, and I was afraid to leave him alone, for I imagined that he would seek Bowles immediately. Mr. Rockland came into the office soon after we arrived, and I sought a private interview with him, and in as few words as possible informed him what had happened, and requested him to try to get Harry home as soon as he could. Mr. Rockland was deeply moved when he began to realize the situation. He loved Harry devotedly, and was as much alarmed at his condition as I was; he at once requested him to accompany him home. Harry followed Mr. Rockland without objection, and I went back to the jail at once to see Lottie. I wanted to have a talk with her about the new turn matters were taking, for I had more confidence in her cool judgment than all the rest. She was the only one of us who could look at both sides of a case with an impartial eye. The fact is, she had more sound, practical judgment than Harry and I put together. Nothing could throw her temper off its guard, and I knew that I must look to her for help, because Harry was no longer to be depended on. As soon as I entered the gate in front of the jail, Lottie came out of Viola’s room and beckoned me to her side.
“‘Don’t go in there – I wish to have a private chat with you. Viola is asleep now; I had to send for Doctor Dodson soon after you and Harry left. The doctor was obliged to give her an opiate before he could get her to sleep. He fears there is danger of brain fever, but thinks it may be avoided by proper treatment. Why did you let Harry come here to-day when you knew what a condition his mind was in?’
“‘I did my very best to keep him away, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I think he is mad. I told him above all things not to tell Viola what he had heard.’
“‘But what is it you have heard? You must remember that I am totally ignorant as to the cause of all this trouble.’
“I then gave her a full statement of the facts as detailed to us by Dabbs and Tadpoddle. I saw a strange light flash from her beautiful eyes, and her cheeks flushed instantly with a rush of red blood to them. Her pretty little mouth was at once drawn down at both corners.
“‘And you and brother Harry swallowed this magnificent story as a child of five years would the hobgoblin story told by its nurse – that is, you believed it, of course.’
“‘Lottie, how could we help believing it, when the proof was so plain? What was Viola doing with Bowles’ letter in her dress pocket? What was she visiting his apartments at the dark hours of night for? Were they not planning schemes of murder? Does not the letter prove this beyond all question? What is the use of clinging to an idea that has no foundation to rest on? If I owned all the money in the world I would give it to know Viola was not guilty.’
“‘Eddie, I love you too much – I wish I didn’t, for I had made up my mind to give you a real good scolding; but how can I have the heart to abuse my old booby when I love him so? But let me tell you one thing now, and be very sure you don’t forget it – if ever you hint or insinuate in my presence again that you think Viola Bramlett is anything but a pure, honest, virtuous, persecuted orphan girl, I’ll make such a rattling storm in your ears as you never have heard in all the days of your life.’
“‘If I were to see her murder a brigade, I’d never say so before you.’
“‘Very good; you had better try to remember that, for I tell you, Mr. Booby, I know her to be innocent; and that is not all, by a long jump – I know exactly who is guilty. You and Harry imagine yourselves to be exceedingly clever. You bring penitentiary birds from Philadelphia, and pay them large rewards to blacken the name of a pure, honest girl. I declare, you ought to congratulate yourselves on the success of your enterprise!’
“‘Lottie, for Heaven’s sake, if you know who committed that cruel murder, why do you let Viola remain in jail? Why don’t you expose the guilty one, and let the innocent one go free?’
“‘I shall do that at the proper time. I have got a net set, and the guilty one is partially entangled in it now; but the time has not yet come to make the final drag. You and Harry have been on the wrong trail all the time, and so have your clever detectives.’
“‘Why don’t you tell Harry and me all about the case, so we can help you?’
“‘I mean to make you help me without telling you anything, because I think it is best to keep my secrets from you; and as to brother Harry, he never had the starch taken out of him until to-day. His ungovernable pride has caused all this trouble, but I think he will not ride such a tall horse any more. He is a dear, noble-hearted brother, but he never has put the curb on his temper – in fact, he never has tried to control his passions; and you know as well as I do that no one can be happy who can’t manage his passions.’