CHAPTER II.
THE OLD TREE'S REVELATIONS.
Meanwhile, strange feelings filled the heart, and troublesome thoughtsthe head, of Madeline Payne.
She looked about her sorrowfully. The leafy wood seemed one of heroldest, truest friends. Since her mother's death, she had lived, savefor the faithful regard of old Hagar, an unloved life. In the onlyhome she knew, she felt herself an object of dislike, and met onlycold neglect, or rude repulsion. So she had made a friend of the shadywood, and welcomed back the birds, in early Springtime, with joyfulanticipation of Summer rest under green branches, lulled and soothedby their songs.
Wandering here, the acquaintance between herself and Lucian Davlinhad begun. Here six long, bright weeks of the Springtime had passed,each day finding them lingering longer among the leafy shadows, anddrawing closer about them both the cords of a destiny sad for one,fatal for each.
Standing with hands clasped loosely before her, eyes down dropped, andfoot tapping the mossy turf, Madeline presented a picture of youth andloveliness such as is rarely seen even in a beauty-abounding land. Aform of medium height which would, in later years, develop much ofstately grace; a complexion of lily-like fairness; and eyes as deepand brown, as tender and childlike, as if their owner were gazing,ever and always, as infants gaze who see only great, grand wonders,and never a woe or fear.
With a wee, small mouth, matching the eyes in expression, the face wasone to strike a casual observer as lovely--as childishly sweet,perhaps. Yet there was something more than childishness in the broadbrow, and firm chin. The little white hands were shapely and strong,and the dainty feet pressed down the daisies softly yet firmly, withquiet but steady movement.
Many a man has been mistaken in baby mouth, and sweetly-smiling eyes.And whoso should mistake Madeline Payne, in the time to come, for"just a child and nothing more," would reckon unwisely, and mayhaplearn this truth too late.
Madeline sat down upon a fallen tree, where she had so often talkedwith her lover. She looked up into the wide spreading branchesoverhead. There was the crooked bough where she had, often and often,in past days, sought refuge when troubled by her father's harshness,or haunted by dreams of the mother she had hardly known. It lookedcool and inviting, as if she could think to better purpose shrouded bythe whispering leaves. She stepped upon the fallen trunk, andspringing upward, caught a bending limb, and was soon seated cosilyaloft, smiling at the thought of what Lucian would say could he seeher there. Long she pondered, silent, motionless. Finally, stirringherself and shaking lightly an overhanging friendly branch sheexclaimed:
"That will be best! I'll stay here for the present. I'll tellstep-papa that I love Lucian, and will never marry his friend, AmosAdams, the old fright! I'll try and be very calm, and as dutiful asmaybe. Then, if he turns me out, very well. If he shuts me up--" Hereyes flashed and she laughed; but there was little of mirth in thelaughter--"Why, then, I _would_ lead him a life, I think! Yes, I'llbid Lucian good-by, for a little while, and I'll try and not miss himtoo much, for--Oh!"
She had been very busy with her own half-spoken thoughts, else shemust have sooner discovered their approach, for now they were almostunderneath her, and they were no less personages than her step-father,John Arthur, and her would-be suitor, Amos Adams.
Madeline was about to make known her presence, but her ear caught thefragment of a sentence in which her name held prominent place. Actingupon impulse, she remained a silent, unsuspected listener.
And so began in her heart and life that drama of pain and passion, sinand mystery, that should close round, and harden and blight, thedarkening future of Madeline Payne.
A more marked contrast than the two men presented could scarcely beimagined.
"Madeline presented a picture of youth andloveliness."--page 17.]
John Arthur might have been, evidently had been, a handsome man, yearsago. But it did not seem possible that, even in his palmiest days,Amos Adams could have been called anything save a fright. He was muchbelow the medium height. His head was sunken between his shoulders,and thrust forward, and each feature of his ugly face seemed at warwith every other; while the glance of his greenish gray eye was suchas would cause a right-minded person involuntarily to cross himselfand utter, with perfect propriety, the Pharisee's prayer.
"The mischief fly away with you, man," said Mr. Arthur, seatinghimself upon the fallen tree, and striking at the ground fiercely withhis cane; "what is my dead wife to you? Madeline makes my life aburden by these same queries. It's none of your business why thedeparted Mrs. Arthur left her property to me during my life, and tiedit up so as to make me only nominal master--mine to use but not sell,not one acre, not a tree or stone; all must go intact to MissMadeline, curse her, at my death."
"Um-m, yes. Does the girl know anything of this?"
"If she did, your chances would be slim," said the other, scornfully."No; I have taken good care that she should not. She has a vixenishtemper, if she should get waked up to imagine herself 'wronged,' orany such school-girl nonsense. I shall not live many years--this heartdisease is gaining on me fast; and if the girl is your wife, in caseof my death the fortune is as good as yours, you know. I want to havepeace while I do live; and for this reason, I say, I will give you mystep-daughter in marriage, and you shall give me the note you holdagainst me for that old debt, the payment of which would compel me tolive like a beggar for the remainder of my days, and the sum of tenthousand dollars."
"It's making a wife a rather expensive luxury," quoth old Amos,seating himself; "but the girl's a beauty--no disputing that point;and--"
"Of course she is," broke in Arthur, impatiently; "worth that, andmore, to whoever wants her, which, fortunately for you, I don't; sheis only a kill-joy to me. If you want the girl, take her, and beblessed--I'll give away the bride with all the pleasure in theworld--and 'live happy ever after.'"
"What is my dead wife to you?"--page 20.]
There was not much room for argument between these two. It was simplya question of exchange, and when old Amos had decided that he was notpaying too dearly for so fair a piece of flesh and blood, they came toterms without more ado, and being agreed that "it's always best tostrike while the iron is hot," Mr. Arthur suggested that his friendreturn with him, accept a seat at his hospitable board, and hearhimself announced formally to Miss Madeline, as her future lord andmaster. John Arthur had ever exacted and received passive obediencefrom his step-daughter. He had little fear of rebellion now. How couldshe rebel? Was she not dependent upon his bounty for her daily bread,even?
Old Amos troubled his ugly head little if any on this point. Herecognized no higher potentate than gold. He had bought him a wife; hehad but to pay the price and take possession of the property.
* * * * *
Madeline Payne sat long on her leafy perch, thinking fast and hard,the expressions of her face changing rapidly as she revolved, in hermind, different phases of the situation. Surprise gave place tocontempt, as she eyed the departing plotters from her greenhiding-place. Contempt merged into amusement, as she thought of thewonderful contrast between the two wooers who had proffered theirrespective suits, in a manner so very different, beneath thatself-same tree. A look of fixed resolve settled down upon hercountenance at last, and uncurling herself, she dropped lightly uponthe ground.
"Slowly she turned away and very thoughtful was herface."--page 24]
Madeline had made up her mind. That it would be useless to say aughtof Lucian, she now knew too well. That she could never defy herfather's commands, and still dwell beneath her father's roof, she alsoknew. She hesitated no longer. Fate, stronger than she, had decidedfor her, she reasoned. Her mind once made up, she gave in it no placeto fears or misgivings. The strength of will and the spirit ofrebellion, that were dormant in her nature, began to stir into life,roused by the injustice that would rob her of her own. She not onlyhad a way of escape, but that way her own inclinations lured her. Withnever a fear, never a thought of the days
to come, she turned from hermockery of a home, from her parent, unnatural, unloving, and unloved,to an unknown, untried world, which was all embodied in oneword--Lucian.
The past held for her many dark shadows; the future held all that shecraved of joy and love--Lucian.
In her outraged heart there was no room for grief. She had heard herdead mother scorned, and by him who, more than all others, should havecherished her memory and honored her name. She had heard herselfbartered away, as a parcel of goods, and her very life weighed in thebalance as a most objectionable thing. Her happiness was scoffed at;her wishes ignored as if without existence, and contrary to allnature; even her liberty was menaced.
Slowly she turned away, and very thoughtful was her face as she went,but fixed in its purpose as fate itself: and fearless still as if lifehad no dark places, no storm clouds, no despair.
Oh! they were lovely, innocent eyes; and oh! it was a sweet, sweetmouth! But the eyes never wavered, and the mouth had no trace ofweakness in its dainty curves. You have reckoned without your host,John Arthur. It is no commonplace school-girl with whom you have todeal. Madeline Payne possesses a nature all untried, yet strong forgood or evil. Intense in love or hate, fearless to do and dare, shewill meet the fate you bring upon her--but woe to those who havecompassed her downfall! If your hand has shaped the destiny of herlife, she will no less overrule your future and, from afar--perhapsunrecognized, unseen--mete out to you measure for measure!
The grand old tree is sighing out a farewell. The sunlight is castingfantastic shadows where her foot, but a moment since, rested. Theleaves glisten and whisper strange things. The golden buttercups laughup in the sun's face, as if there were no drama of loving and hating,sin and atonement, daily enacted on their green, motherly bosom. AndMadeline Payne has put her childhood behind her, and turned her faceto the darkness beyond.
Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter Page 3