CHAPTER XXIX.
THE RIVALS.
"All other passions have their hour of thinking, And hear the voice of reason. This alone Breaks at the first suspicion into frenzy, And sweeps the soul in tempests."--SHAKESPEARE.
For a moment the rivals stood silently confronting each other--Celestepale and trembling before that dark, passionate glance; Minnette whiteand rigid, but with scorching, burning eyes.
"Minnette, what is the matter?" said Celeste, at last finding voice."Good heavens! you look as though you were crazed."
"Crazed!" hissed Minnette through her teeth. "You consummate littlehypocrite! Your conduct, no doubt, should make me very cool andcomposed. Girl, I say to you, beware! Better for you you had never beenborn, than live to cross my path!"
Her voice was hoarse with concentrated passion--her small hands clencheduntil the nails sank into the quivering flesh. With a shudder, Celestecovered her face in her hands to shut out the scathing glance of thosedark, gleaming eyes.
"Oh, Minnette!--dear Minnette!--do not look at me so. Your eyes killme," she said, with a shiver.
"Would to Heaven they could!" fiercely exclaimed Minnette.
"Oh, Minnette! what have I done? If I have injured you, I am very sorry.Indeed, indeed, it was unintentional. I would sooner die than have anyone hate me!" said Celeste, clasping her hands imploringly.
"Injured me!" almost shrieked Minnette, clutching her arm so fiercely,that Celeste cried out with pain. "Injured me, did you say? Yes--thegreatest injury one woman can ever do another you have done me. Fromearly childhood you have crossed my path, and, under your artfullyassumed vail of simplicity, won the love of the only being under heavenI ever cared for--won him with your silly smiles, your baby face, andcowardly tears; you, a poor, nameless beggar--a dependent on the bountyof others. _Hate you!_--yes, from the first moment I beheld you, I hatedyou with an intensity you can never dream of until you feel the fullweight of my vengeance; for I tell you I will be avenged; yes, I wouldperil my own soul, if by so doing I could wreak still more dire revengeon your head. I tell you, you began a dangerous game when you trifledwith me. I am no sickly, sentimental fool, to break my heart anddie--no; I shall drag down with me all who have stood in my way, andthen die, if need be, gloating over the agonies I have made them suffer.Beware, I tell you; for no tigress, robbed of her young, can be fiercerthan this newly awakened heart!"
She hurled Celeste from her, as she ceased, with such violence, that shereeled and fell; and, striking her head against a projecting stone, layfor some minutes stunned and motionless. A dark stream of blood flowedslowly from the wound; and Minnette stood gazing upon it with a fiendishsmile on her beautiful face. Slowly, and with difficulty, Celestearose--pressing her handkerchief to her face to stanch the flowingblood; and, lifting her soft, pitying eyes to the wild, vindictive faceabove her, she said:
"Minnette, I forgive you. You are crazed, and know not what you do.But, oh! Minnette, you wrong me. I never intentionally injuredyou--never, as heaven is my witness! I have tried to love you as asister always. Never, never--by word, or thought, or deed--have Iwillingly given you a moment's pain. I would sooner cut off my righthand than offend you. Oh, Minnette! can we never be friends?"
"Friends!" repeated Minnette, with a wild laugh; "yes, when the serpentdwells with the dove; when the tiger mates with the lamb; when twojealous women love each other--then we will be friends. Perjure yourselfnot before me. Though an angel from heaven were to descend to plead foryou, I would neither forgive you nor believe your words."
"What have I done to make you hate me so?"
"You brazen hypocrite! do you dare to ask me what you have done? _He_did, too! A precious pair of innocents, both of you!" said Minnette,with her bitter, jeering laugh. "Little need to tell you what you havedone. Did you not win the love of Louis Oranmore from me by yourskillful machinations? He loved me before he saw you. You knew it; andyet, from the very first moment you beheld him, you set to work to makehim hate me. Do not deny it, you barefaced, artful impostor! Did I nothear you both to-night?--and was not the demon within me prompting me tospring forward and stab you both to the heart? But my vengeance, thoughdelayed, shall be none the less sure, and, when the time comes, woe toyou and to him; for if I must perish, I shall not perish alone."
During this fierce, excited speech--every word of which had stabbed herto the heart--Celeste had staggered against a tree; and, covering herface with her hands, stood like one suddenly pierced by a sword; everyword burned into her very brain like fire, as she stood like onefainting--dying. By a great effort, she crushed back the flood of heremotions; and when Minnette ceased, she lifted up her face--pale asdeath, but firm and earnest.
"Minnette Wiseman," she said, in a voice of gentle dignity, so unusualto her that the dark, passionate girl gazed on her in astonishment, "asheaven hears me, I am guilty of none of these things of which you accuseme. If Louis Oranmore loved you, I knew it not, or I would not havelistened to him; if he won your heart, I dreamed not of it, or he shouldnever have won mine. I thought you loved no one but yourself. Inever--never dreamed you cared for him. For all the misery he has causedus both, may heaven forgive him, as I do! If he loved you first, youhave a prior claim to his heart. I will tell him so to-morrow, and neverlisten to him more."
She strove to speak calmly to the end; but at the last her voice diedaway in a low tone of utter despair.
"Bah! your acting disgusts me!" exclaimed Minnette, contemptuously. "Doyou not suppose I can see through this vail with which you would blindmy eyes? You will tell him to-morrow, forsooth! Yes, you will tell him Icame here to abuse you, and strike you, and load you with vile epithets,and with what saint-like patience you bore them. You will representyourself as such an injured innocent, and I as a monster of cruelty; youwill tell him, when I smote you on one cheek, how you turned the other.Faugh! do not make me despise you as well as hate you."
"You cannot despise me, Minnette; you know you cannot," said Celeste,with something like indignation in her gentle voice, as hertruth-beaming eye met undauntedly the flashing orbs before her. "Youknow I have spoken the truth. You know in your own heart I am nohypocrite. Hate me if you will--I cannot prevent you; but you shall notdespise me. I have never intentionally wronged you, and I never will. IfLouis Oranmore loves you as you say, I wish you both all happiness. Ishall no longer stand between you and his heart."
"Oh! wonderful heroism!" cried Minnette, in bitter mockery. "You canwell afford to say you give him up, when you know he loves me no longer;when you know you have surely and unalterably won him to yourself. Welldo you know this pretended self-denial of yours will elevate you athousand times higher still in his estimation, and make him love you farmore than ever before. Oh! you have learned your trade of deceptionwell. Pity all cannot see through it as I do. Think not to deceive me asyou have done so many others; I, at least, can see your shallow,selfish, cold-blooded heart."
"I will not stay to listen to your words, Minnette; they are toodreadful. Some day, perhaps, you will discover how you have wronged me.I am not deceiving you; he _must_ give me up if what you say be true. Iwill even go away if you wish it--anywhere, so that you may besatisfied. I will write and tell him, and never see him more, if thatwill satisfy you." Her voice faltered a little, but she went on; "I willdo anything--anything, Minnette, if you will only not call me suchterrible things. It is fearful--horrible, to be hated so without cause."
Minnette did not speak, but glared upon her with her burning, flamingeyes. Two dark purple spots--now fading, now glowing vividly out--burnedon either cheek; otherwise, no snow-wreath was ever whiter than herface. Her teeth were set hard; her hands tightly clenched; her darkbrows knit, as though about to spring upon the speaker and rend her topieces. She made one step toward her. With a piercing cry of terror,Celeste sprang away, darted through the garden gate, flew up the narrowpath, burst into the cottage, closed and bolted the door, and sank,panting and almost fainting, on the ground.
"Good heavens! child, what is the matter?" asked Miss Hagar, rising, inalarm.
"Oh! save me--save me from her!" was all Celeste could utter.
"Save you from whom? Who are you speaking of? Who has frightened youso?" inquired Miss Hagar, still more astonished.
Celeste slowly rose from the ground, without speaking. Consciousness wasbeginning to return, but she was still stunned and bewildered.
"Merciful Father!" cried Miss Hagar, as Celeste turned toward the light,"what has happened?"
And truly she might exclaim, at beholding that deadly paleface--thosewild, excited eyes--the disheveled golden hair--the blood-stained, andtorn and disordered dress.
"Nothing! oh, nothing, nothing!" said Celeste, passing her hand slowlyover her eyes, as if to clear away a mist, and speaking in a slow,bewildered tone.
"But, child, there is something the matter!" insisted Miss Hagar. "Youlook as though you were crazed, and your face is stained with blood."
"Is it? I had forgotten," said Celeste, pushing her hair vacantly offher wounded forehead. "It is nothing at all, though. I do not feel it."
"But how did it happen?"
"Oh!--why, I was frightened, and ran, and fell," said Celeste, scarcelyknowing what she said.
"What was it frightened you?" pursued Miss Hagar, wondering at herstrange manner.
Celeste, without reply, sank upon a seat and pressed her hands to herthrobbing temples to collect her scattered thoughts. She felt sick anddizzy--unable to think and speak coherently. Her head ached with theintensity of her emotions; and her eyes felt dry and burning. Her browwas hot and feverish with such violent and unusual excitement. Her onlyidea was to get away--to be alone--that she might collect her wanderingsenses.
"Miss Hagar," she said, rising, "I cannot tell you what has happened. Imust be alone to-night. To-morrow, perhaps, I will tell you all."
"Any time you please, child," said Miss Hagar, kindly. "Go to your roomby all means. Good-night."
"Good-night!" said Celeste, taking her lamp and quitting the room.
She staggered as she walked. On reaching her room she set the lamp onthe table, and entwined her arms above her head, which dropped heavilyupon it. Unaccustomed to excitement of any kind, she felt more as ifheart and brain were on fire. Loving Louis with the strong affection ofher loving heart, the sudden disclosure and jealous fury of Minnettestunned and stupefied her for a time. So she lay for nearly an hour,unable to think or realize what had happened--only conscious of a dull,dreary pain at her heart. Then the mist slowly cleared away from hermental vision--the fierce words of Minnette danced in red, lurid lettersbefore her eyes. She started to her feet, and paced her chamber wildly.
"Oh! why am I doomed to make others miserable?" she cried, wringing herhands. "Oh, Louis, Louis! why have you deceived me thus? What have Idone that I should suffer such misery? But it is wrong to complain. Imust not, will not murmur. I will not reproach him for what he has done,but try to forget him. May he be as happy with Minnette as I would havestriven to render him! To-morrow I will see him, and return all thegifts cherished for his sake; to-morrow I will bid him a last adieu;to-morrow--but, oh! I cannot--I cannot!" she exclaimed, passionately. "Icannot see him and bid him go. Oh, Father of the fatherless! aid me inmy anguish!"
She fell on her knees by the bedside, and a wild, earnest prayer brokefrom her tortured lips.
By degrees she grew calm; her wild excitement died away; the scorchingheat left her brain, and blessed tears came to her aid. Long andbitterly she wept; long and earnestly she prayed--no longer as onewithout hope, but trustful and resigned, bending her meek head to theblow of the chastening rod.
She arose from her knees, pale, but calm and resigned.
"I will not see him," she murmured. "Better for us both I should neversee him again! I will write--I will tell him all--and then all that ispast must be forgotten. In the creature I was forgetting the Creator;for the worship of God I was substituting the worship of man; and myHeavenly Father, tempering justice with mercy, has lifted me from thegulf into which I was falling, and set me in the narrow way once more.Henceforth, no earthly idol shall fill my heart; to Him alone shall itbe consecrated; and I will live on in the hope that there is yet 'balmin Gilead' for me."
It was very easy to speak thus, in the sudden reaction from despair tojoy--very easy to talk in this way in the excitement of the moment,after her heart had been relieved by tears. She thought not of the wearydays and nights in the future, that would seem to have no end, when hervery soul would cry out in wild despair for that "earthly idol" again.
And full of her resolution, with cheeks and eyes glowing with the lightof inspiration, she sat down at the table, and, drawing pen and paperbefore her, began to write.
A long, earnest, eloquent letter it was. She resigned him forever,bidding him be happy with Minnette, and forget and forgive her, andbreathing the very soul of sisterly love and forgiveness. Page afterpage was filled, while her cheek flushed deeper, and her eyes grewbrighter, and her pen flew on as if inspired.
There, in the holy seclusion of her chamber, in the solemn stillness ofnight, she made the total renunciation of him she loved best on earth,scarcely feeling now she had lost him, in the lofty exaltation of herfeelings.
It was finished at last. The pen dropped from her hand, and she arose toseek for the few gifts he had ever given her. A little golden locket,containing his likeness and a lock of his hair; her betrothal-ring; andthe oft-mentioned gold cross. That was all.
She opened the likeness, and through all her heroism a wild, sharpthrill of anguish pierced her heart, as she gazed on those calm,beautiful features. The sable ring of hair twined itself round herfingers as though unwilling to leave her; but resolutely she replacedit, and drew off the plain gold circlet of their betrothal, and laidthem side by side. Then her cross--it had never left her neck since thenight he had placed it there. All the old tide of love swelled back toher heart as she gazed upon it. It seemed like rending her veryheart-strings to take it off.
"I cannot! I cannot!" was her anguished cry, as her arm droppedpowerless on the table.
"You must! you must! it is your duty!" cried the stern voice ofconscience; and, with trembling fingers and blanched lips, the precioustoken was removed and laid beside the others.
Then, sealing them up, with one last, agonizing look, such as we mightbestow on the face of a dear friend about to be consigned to the grave,she sealed and directed the packet, and then threw herself on her bedand pressed her hands over her eyes to hide out the face of her dead.
But in spite of sorrow, sleep _will_ visit the afflicted, and a brightmorning sunbeam fell like a halo on her pale face, calm in sleep, and onthe golden eyelashes, still wet with undried tear-drops.
That same broad July sunbeam fell on Minnette lying prone on her face inthe damp pine woods, her long, black hair and dark garments droppingwith the soaking dew. The dark, lonely woods had been her couch thelivelong night.
Sharing Her Crime: A Novel Page 30