Miss Caprice

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by St. George Rathborne


  CHAPTER XXI.

  SHE CALLS HIM JOHN NOW.

  When the news of the battle is known in Algiers, great excitementabounds. There are many sympathizers of Bab Azoun among the nativepopulation, and in some quarters their ugly teeth are shown; but Francehas too secure a hold of Algeria not to be ready for such an emergency,and her troops parade the streets, armed for battle.

  Consequently no demonstration on the part of the natives is attempted.Among the foreigners, and in the better circles of merchants andtraders, there is great rejoicing over the victory, for it has long beendangerous to travel in the region of the coast because of the boldforays of this same Bab Azoun. They hope his power will now be broken,and that perhaps the outlaw himself may be dead.

  In the morning our friends gather for breakfast. John alone is absent,nor do they know what has become of him, for the clerk of the hotelinforms them that the Chicagoan was early astir.

  He comes in before they are done eating, but volunteers no informationconcerning his wanderings, so that they of course conclude he has onlybeen for a walk.

  Sir Lionel seems rather shy. Most men upon making such a dismal failureon two separate occasions, would probably be willing to give up thegame, but there is something of the bull-dog about Sir Lionel. He willhold on until the end.

  He fears John Craig has penetrated his schemes, and this makes himassume a dogged air. Evidently he still clings to hope of ultimatesuccess.

  As for Craig, he is undecided whether to call Sir Lionel a fool or aknave, and is rapidly drifting to a belief that the Briton may be acomposite of both.

  They have much to see in Algiers. Mosques, bazaars, and the remarkablefeatures that cluster about this famous resort. A thousand and onethings unite to charm a traveler who strikes Algiers in the winter time,and they usually go hence with many regrets, and memories that willnever fade.

  John watches his chance to speak to the girl at his side. He feels thatthe time has come when he must tell her what he has in his heart--thathe loves her.

  If she gives him his _conge_, he will go his way and try to forget; buthe has hopes of a different answer; eye speaks to eye, and there is alanguage of the heart that needs not lips to proclaim it, a secrettelegraphy that brings together those who love. The touch of a handthrills as no other touch can, and the sound of a voice heardunexpectedly causes the heart to almost cease beating.

  At length he makes an opportunity, as only a bold and determined lovercan. They have gone in the street-cars to the terraced heights ofMustapha Superieur, to visit a house which most tourists see--a housewith a remarkable history--and in departing, John and Lady Ruth somehoware separated from the rest. The fault lies with him, because at thelast moment he proposed a final view of the wonderful scene spread outbelow, to which Lady Ruth consented, and as the others boarded thetram-car that would take them back to the city, John called out theirintention, and that they would join them later.

  There is nothing singular about this, and yet Lady Ruth's cheeks turnrosy as she hears Aunt Gwen's laugh, and stealing a glance over hershoulder discovers that quaint individual shaking her finger out of thecar-window.

  Upon a rustic seat the two rest. The grand panorama spread before themcharms the eye, and they feast upon the glorious scene. How blue the seaappears, and the numerous sails are like splashes of white against thedeep background.

  There lies Algiers in all her glory, modern structures almost side byside with Mohammedan mosques, whose domes shine like great balls of goldand whose minarets guard the sacred edifice like sentries thrown out inthe nature of defenses.

  Who could gaze upon such a vision and not feel his heart stirred, mustindeed be dead to everything that appeals to the better senses.

  John Craig, M.D., might ordinarily be set down as an enthusiastic loverof nature, and such a scene when he first gazed upon it aroused thedeepest emotions in his artist heart; but strange to say he pays littleheed to what is before him now. It is what occupies the rustic seat incommon with John Craig that takes his whole attention.

  How shall he say it. What words can he frame into an animated expressionof his feelings? It was all mapped out before, but the words haveutterly slipped his memory, as is always the case in such events.

  He turns to Lady Ruth. Her hand is in her lap. He boldly reaches out andtakes it. There is only a feeble resistance. Their eyes meet, "LadyRuth, will you give me this hand?"

  "You--I--what could you do with it?" she asks, turning rosy red.

  "Well, to begin with--this," and he presses it passionately to his lips.

  "Oh! Doctor Craig, what if some one should see you!" now struggling tofree her hand, which he holds firmly.

  He laughs recklessly, this hitherto shy young man. Once in the affair,he cares little for prying eyes, and indeed there is small chance ofany one noticing them in this retired spot, as there are no othersight-seers around.

  "I don't care who sees me. I've got to tell you what I'm sure youalready know, that I love you--I love you."

  He leans forward and looks in her face, which is downcast. She hasceased to struggle now, and her hand lies fluttering in his.

  Such scenes as these the novelist has no business to linger over. Theemotions that are brought out at such a time should be sacred from thepublic gaze.

  John does not wait long for his answer, as Lady Ruth is a sensible girl,and really cares a great deal more for this young man than she has beenready to admit even to herself.

  So she tells him that she is afraid she does take an uncommon interestin his welfare, and that perhaps it would be as well for her to later onassume such a position as will give her the right to watch over him.

  So it is nicely settled, and John feels supremely happy, just as allsincere and successful wooers have done from time immemorial.

  After a short time John remembers that he meant to introduce a certainsubject, and putting aside his feelings of new-found joy--there will beplenty of time for all that--he speaks of Sir Lionel.

  "Now that you know I am not at all jealous, I want to talk aboutanother. Sir Lionel Blunt."

  Her face lights up with a smile.

  "Perhaps I can guess what you would say."

  "It is about the affair last night."

  "Poor Sir Lionel is rather quiet to-day. He is not so young as he was,and I imagine that his severe exertions last night have caused him manytwinges to-day."

  "Perhaps. It was the most remarkable affair I ever witnessed."

  "You saw it all?"

  "Yes. Mustapha and myself were in hiding not far away. We were astoundedat the easy way those fellows died."

  At this Lady Ruth gives a merry peal of laughter.

  "It was really ridiculous."

  "Did you guess it at the time?"

  "Well, certain things looked very strange to me. I was amazed as we wereleaving to see a man whom I was positive had twice fallen as if dead,raise his head and look after us with a smile on his ugly face.

  "Whatever I thought, I was so glad to get away on any terms that I saidnothing, and when the next engagement took place I found Sir Lionel verymuch in earnest.

  "On this account, although feeling sure that he was the cause of all thetrouble, I have been disposed to forgive him. You know the poor fellowprofesses to be in love with me, though I have had some reason tobelieve it is my fortune he is after as well, for my fatherunfortunately left me an heiress."

  "Well, I'm in a position to be generous, and though I condemn hismethods, I can easily see how, in his despair he might forget his honor.I have good reason to believe this is not the first time he has tried toplay the hero."

  Lady Ruth looks surprised.

  "How is that?" she asks.

  Thereupon John narrates what the boatman said to him off Malta,concerning a broken plank in the bottom of the little craft, which ofcourse astonishes the young girl.

  She shows some indignation at the thought of his imperiling her life.

  "The joke of the whole thing lies in the f
act that it was you who savedthe would-be hero of the occasion," remarks John, and this fact inducesboth of them to laugh.

  On the whole they feel so happy that it is hard to bear a grudge evenagainst the veteran who has been baffled by fate.

  Lady Ruth cannot forget that Sir Lionel gave many evidences of being inlove with her, and a woman is apt to forgive even a fault in a man whoprofesses to have sinned for her, to have even given up honor in thehope of winning her favor.

  "I have arranged a little scheme whereby I hope to pay Sir Lionel backin his own coin," says the young Chicagoan, grimly.

  "Why, John, I thought you said just now that you could forgive him. Nowyou pretend to be quite blood-thirsty."

  "Oh, no; not that. I'm looking out for the poor fellow. He's gone italone quite long enough, and I want to see him caught."

  "Caught? Explain, please. Perhaps I'm a little obtuse, but really, underthe circumstances--"

  "Yes, I know. It's all excusable, my dear girl. In plain English I wantto see the veteran married."

  "Married?"

  "And I shall take upon myself the task of selecting the girl who willrule him hereafter."

  "John, what do you mean? Surely--oh, that is nonsense. Tell me who sheis?"

  "Pauline Potter," calmly.

  "Why, that's the actress."

  "True."

  "The actress who professed to be so madly in love with one Doctor JohnCraig."

  "And as the said Craig is already taken, she is left out in the cold.Now you behold my little scheme. We are happy--why should not these twopeople be the same?"

  "Why, indeed?"

  "Their greatest fault lies in loving not wisely but too well. This hascaused them to sin. Now, in order to prevent any future plots that maygive us trouble, I purpose to so arrange it that Sir Lionel shall havea wife and Pauline a husband."

  "A clever idea."

  "I may want your assistance."

  "You can have it at any time."

  "We must protect ourselves, and the easiest way to do this will be todisarm our foes."

  "Really, Doctor Chicago, I didn't give you credit for so muchshrewdness. Tell me if you have any plans arranged."

  "Well, only the skeleton of one as yet, but I'll tell you all about itas far as I have gone."

  They sit upon that bench for a full hour. Time is not taken into accountwhen love rules the occasion.

  It is Lady Ruth who finally jumps up with a cry of consternation. Shehas heard a clock upon a tower in new Algiers strike the hour.

  "What will they think of us, John?" she says.

  "Little I care, for I mean to announce our engagement to Aunt Gwen onsight, and she is the only one who has any business to complain,"returns the successful wooer, firmly.

  "Oh! it is so sudden; perhaps we'd better wait a little while."

  "With your permission, not an hour. You belong to me, now--see, let meput this solitaire diamond on your finger. It was my mother's ring. Bythat token I simply desire to warn all men 'hands off.' Tell me, am Iright, Ruth?"

  "Yes; I can offer no objection. Do as you think best, doctor."

  This is a beautiful beginning. Clouds will be rare in their future ifthey keep on in this way.

  So they once more go back to the hotel, and find Aunt Gwen on thelookout, her kindly face wearing an anxious expression that becomesa quizzical one when she sees John smile.

  "Your blessing, Aunt Gwen," he says.

  "My what?"

  "Oh! it's all settled. Ruth has promised to be my wife," continues John,looking very happy.

  "The dickens she has!" and Philander pushes into view from behind thevoluminous skirts of his better half. "What business has she to acceptany one without consulting her doting--"

  "Philander!"

  "--Aunt? Don't take me seriously, my boy. Accept my congratulations, wishyou joy, and thank Heaven it isn't that pompous baronet."

  "Amen!" says John, warmly.

  "Now that you allow me a chance, Philander, I want to say just this: itsuits me to a dot. I'm delighted--enchanted. Of course you'll live inChicago. That's another blow against John Bull. We'll be mistress of theseas yet. Here, let me kiss you both, my children, and take the blessingof a woman who has not lived fifty years for nothing."

 

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