Sharing Her Crime: A Novel. May Agnes Fleming
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about it!" hastily interrupted the lady. "You can do it – it is in your power; and yes, or no, must be your answer, immediately."
"But – "
"No buts, sir. I will not have them. If you answer yes, one thousand dollars and my future patronage shall be yours. If you say no, yonder is the door; and once you have crossed the threshold, beware! Now, Doctor Wiseman, I await your reply."
She seated herself again in her chair; and, folding her hands in her lap, fixed her hawk-like eyes on his face, with her keen, searching gaze. His eyes were bent in troubled thought on the floor. Not that the crime appalled him; but if detected —that was the rub. Doctor Wiseman was, as his name implies, a man of sense, with an exceedingly accommodating conscience, that would stretch ad libitum, and never troubled him with any such nonsense as remorse. But if it were discovered! With rather unpleasant vividness, the vision of a hangman and halter arose before him, and he involuntarily loosened his cravat. Still, one thousand dollars were tempting. Doctor Nicholas Wiseman had never been so perplexed in his life.
"Well, doctor, well," impatiently broke in the lady, "have you decided —yes or no?"
"Yes," said the doctor, driven to desperation by her sneering tone.
"'Tis well," she replied, with a mocking smile, "I knew you were too sensible a man to refuse. After all, 'tis but a moment's work, and all is over."
"Will you be good enough to give me the explanation now, madam?" said the doctor, almost shuddering at the cold, unfeeling tone in which she spoke.
"Certainly. You are aware, doctor, that when I married my late husband, Mr. Oranmore, he was a widower with one son, then three years old."
"I am aware of that fact, madam."
"Well, you also know that when this child, Alfred, was five years of age, my son, Barry, was born."
"Yes, madam."
"Perhaps you think it unnecessary for me to go so far back, doctor, but I wish everything to be perfectly understood. Well, these two boys grew up together, were sent to school and college together, and treated in every way alike, outwardly; but, of course, when at home, Barry was treated best. Alfred Oranmore had all the pride of his English forefathers, and scorned to complain; but I could see, in his flashing eyes and curling lips, that every slight was noticed. Mr. Oranmore never interfered with me in my household arrangements, nor did his son ever complain to him; though, if he had, Mr. Oranmore had too much good sense to mention it to me."
The lady compressed her lips with stately dignity, and the doctor looked down with something as near a smile as his wrinkled lips could wear. He knew very well Mr. Oranmore would not have interfered; for never after his marriage had the poor man dared to call his soul his own. The lady, however, did not perceive the smile, and went on:
"When Barry left college, he expressed a desire to travel for two or three years on the Continent; and I readily gave him permission, for Mr. Oranmore was then dead. Alfred was studying law, and I knew his dearest wish was to travel; but, as a matter of course, it was out of the question for him to go. I told him I could not afford it, that it would cost a great deal to pay Barry's expenses, and that he must give up all idea of it. Barry went, and Alfred staid; though, as things afterward turned out, it would have been better had I allowed him to go."
Her eyes flashed, and her brows knit with rising anger, as she continued;
"You know old Magnus Erliston – Squire Erliston, as they call him. You know also how very wealthy he is reputed to be – owning, besides the magnificent estate of Mount Sunset, a goodly portion of the village of St. Mark's. Well, Squire Erliston has two daughters, to the eldest of whom, in accordance with the will of his father (from whom he received the property), Mount Sunset Hall will descend. Before my husband's death, I caused him to will his whole property to my son Barry, leaving Alfred penniless. Barry's fortune, therefore, is large, though far from being as enormous as that Esther Erliston was to have. Well, the squire and I agreed that, as soon as Barry returned from Europe they should be married, and thus unite the estates of Oranmore and Erliston. Neither Barry nor Esther, with the usual absurdity of youth, would agree to this arrangement; but, of course, their objection mattered little. I knew I could easily manage Barry by the power of my stronger will; and the squire, who is rough and blustering, could, without much difficulty, frighten Esther into compliance – when all our schemes were suddenly frustrated by that meddler, that busy-body, Alfred Oranmore."
She paused, and again her eyes gleamed with concentrated hatred and passion.
"He went to Mount Sunset, and by some means met Esther Erliston. Being what romantic writers would call one of 'nature's princes,' he easily succeeded in making a fool of her; they eloped, were married secretly, and Squire Erliston woke up one morning to learn that his dainty heiress had abandoned papa for the arms of a beggar, and was, as the wife of a penniless lawyer, residing in the goodly city of Washington.
"Pretty Esther doubtless imagined that she had only to throw herself at papa's feet and bathe them with her tears, to be received with open arms. But the young lady found herself slightly mistaken. Squire Erliston stamped, and raged, and swore, and frightened every one in St. Mark's out of their wits; and then, calming down, 'vowed a vow' never to see or acknowledge his daughter more. Esther was then eighteen. If she lived to reach her majority, Mount Sunset would be hers in spite of him. But the squire had vowed that before she should get it, he would burn Sunset Hall to the ground and plow the land with salt. Now, doctor, I heard that, and set myself to work. Squire Erliston has a younger daughter; and I knew that, if Esther died, that younger daughter would become heiress to all the property, and she would then be just as good a wife for Barry as her sister. Well, I resolved that Esther should no longer stand in my way, that she should never live to reach her majority. Start not, doctor, I see that you do not yet know Madge Oranmore."
She looked like a very fiend, as she sat smiling grimly at him from her seat.
"Fortune favored me," she continued. "Alfred Oranmore, with two or three other young men, going out one day for a sail, was overtaken by a sudden squall – they knew little about managing a boat, and all on board were drowned. I read it in the papers and set out for Washington. After much difficulty I discovered Esther in a wretched boarding-house; for, after her husband's death, all their property was taken for debt. She did not know me, and I had little difficulty in persuading her to accompany me home. Three days ago we arrived. I caused a report to be circulated at Washington that the wife of the late Alfred Oranmore had died in great poverty and destitution. The story found its way into the papers; I sent one containing the account of her death to Squire Erliston; so all trouble in that quarter is over."
"And Esther?" said the doctor, in a husky whisper.
"Of her we will speak by and by," said the lady, with a wave of her hand; "at present I must say a few words of my son Barry. Three weeks ago he returned home; but has, from some inexplicable cause, refused to reside here. He boards now in a distant quarter of the city. Doctor, what says the world about this – is there any reason given?"
"Well, yes, madam," said the doctor, with evident reluctance.
"And what is it, may I ask?"
"I fear, madam, you will be offended."
"'Sdeath! man, go on!" she broke in passionately. "What sayeth the far-seeing, all-wise world of him?"
"'Tis said he has brought a wife with him from Europe, whom he wishes to conceal."
"Ha! ha!" laughed the lady, scornfully. "Yes, I heard it too – a barefooted bog-trotter, forsooth! But 'tis false, doctor! false, I tell you! You must contradict the report everywhere you hear it. That any one should dare to say that my son – my proud, handsome Barry – would marry a potato-eating Biddy! Oh! but for my indignation I could laugh at the utter absurdity."
But the fierce gleam of her eye, and the passionate clenching of her hand, bespoke her in anything but a laughing humor.
"I would not for worlds this report should reach Lizzie Erliston," she said, somewhat more calmly. "And speaking of her brings me back to her sister. Doctor, Esther Oranmore lies in yonder room."
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