The Abbot's Ghost, or Maurice Treherne's Temptation: A Christmas Story

by Louisa May Alcott

  Chapter III

  WHO WAS IT?

  Who had taken it? This question tormented Treherne all that sleeplessnight. He suspected three persons, for only these had approached thefire after the note was hidden. He had kept his eye on it, he thought,till the stir of breaking up. In that moment it must have been removedby the major, Frank Annon, or my lady; Sir Jasper was out of thequestion, for he never touched an ornament in the drawing room since hehad awkwardly demolished a whole _etagere_ of costly trifles, tohis mother's and sister's great grief. The major evidently suspectedsomething, Annon was jealous, and my lady would be glad of a pretext toremove her daughter from his reach. Trusting to his skill in readingfaces, he waited impatiently for morning, resolving to say nothing toanyone but Mrs. Snowdon, and from her merely to inquire what the notecontained.

  Treherne usually was invisible till lunch, often till dinner; therefore,fearing to excite suspicion by unwonted activity, he did not appear tillnoon. The mailbag had just been opened, and everyone was busy over theirletters, but all looked up to exchange a word with the newcomer, andOctavia impulsively turned to meet him, then checked herself and hid hersuddenly crimsoned face behind a newspaper. Treherne's eye took ineverything, and saw at once in the unusually late arrival of the mail apretext for discovering the pilferer of the note.

  "All have letters but me, yet I expected one last night. Major, have yougot it among yours?" And as he spoke, Treherne fixed his penetratingeyes full on the person he addressed.

  With no sign of consciousness, no trace of confusion, the majorcarefully turned over his pile, and replied in the most natural manner,"Not a trace of it; I wish there was, for nothing annoys me more thanany delay or mistake about my letters."

  He knows nothing of it, thought Treherne, and turned to Annon, who wasdeep in a long epistle from some intimate friend, with a talent forimparting news, to judge from the reader's interest.

  "Annon, I appeal to you, for I _must_ discover who has robbed me ofmy letter."

  "I have but one, read it, if you will, and satisfy yourself" was thebrief reply.

  "No, thank you. I merely asked in joke; it is doubtless among my lady's.Jasper's letters and mine often get mixed, and my lady takes care of hisfor him. I think you must have it, Aunt."

  Lady Treherne looked up impatiently. "My dear Maurice, what a coil abouta letter! We none of us have it, so do not punish us for the sins ofyour correspondent or the carelessness of the post."

  She was not the thief, for she is always intensely polite when sheintends to thwart me, thought Treherne, and, apologizing for hisrudeness in disturbing them, he rolled himself to his nook in a sunnywindow and became apparently absorbed in a new magazine.

  Mrs. Snowdon was opening the general's letters for him, and, havingfinished her little task, she roamed away into the library, as if insearch of a book. Presently returning with one, she approached Treherne,and, putting it into his hand, said, in her musically distinct voice,"Be so kind as to find for me the passage you spoke of last night. I amcurious to see it."

  Instantly comprehending her stratagem, he opened it with apparentcarelessness, secured the tiny note laid among the leaves, and,selecting a passage at hazard, returned her book and resumed his own.Behind the cover of it he unfolded and read these words:

  _I understand, but do not be anxious; the line I left was merely this--"I must see you alone, tell me when and where." No one can make much of it, and I will discover the thief before dinner. Do nothing, but watch to whom I speak first on entering, when we meet in the evening, and beware of that person._

  Quietly transferring the note to the fire with the wrapper of themagazine, he dismissed the matter from his mind and left Mrs. Snowdonto play detective as she pleased, while he busied himself about hisown affairs.

  It was a clear, bright December day, and when the young people separatedto prepare for a ride, while the general and the major sunned themselveson the terrace, Lady Treherne said to her nephew, "I am going for anairing in the pony carriage. Will you be my escort, Maurice?"

  "With pleasure," replied the young man, well knowing what was instore for him.

  My lady was unusually taciturn and grave, yet seemed anxious to saysomething which she found difficult to utter. Treherne saw this, andended an awkward pause by dashing boldly into the subject whichoccupied both.

  "I think you want to say something to me about Tavie, Aunt. Am I right?"

  "Yes."

  "Then let me spare you the pain of beginning, and prove my sincerity byopenly stating the truth, as far as I am concerned. I love her verydearly, but I am not mad enough to dream of telling her so. I know thatit is impossible, and I relinquish my hopes. Trust me. I will keepsilent and see her marry Annon without a word of complaint, if you willit. I see by her altered manner that you have spoken to her, and that mylittle friend and nurse is to be mine no longer. Perhaps you are wise,but if you do this on my account, it is in vain--the mischief is done,and while I live I shall love my cousin. If you do it to spare her, I amdumb, and will go away rather than cause her a care or pain."

  "Do you really mean this, Maurice?" And Lady Treherne looked at him witha changed and softened face.

  Turning upon her, Treherne showed her a countenance full of sufferingand sincerity, of resignation and resolve, as he said earnestly, "I domean it; prove me in any way you please. I am not a bad fellow, Aunt,and I desire to be better. Since my misfortune I've had time to testmany things, myself among others, and in spite of many faults, I docherish the wish to keep my soul honest and true, even though my body bea wreck. It is easy to say these things, but in spite of temptation, Ithink I can stand firm, if you trust me."

  "My dear boy, I do trust you, and thank you gratefully for thisfrankness. I never forget that I owe Jasper's life to you, and neverexpect to repay that debt. Remember this when I seem cold or unkind, andremember also that I say now, had you been spared this affliction, Iwould gladly have given you my girl. But--"

  "But, Aunt, hear one thing," broke in Treherne. "They tell me that anysudden and violent shock of surprise, joy, or sorrow may do for me whatthey hope time will achieve. I said nothing of this, for it is but achance; yet, while there is any hope, need I utterly renounce Octavia?"

  "It is hard to refuse, and yet I cannot think it wise to build upon achance so slight. Once let her have you, and both are made unhappy, ifthe hope fail. No, Maurice, it is better to be generous, and leave herfree to make her own happiness elsewhere. Annon loves her, she isheart-whole, and will soon learn to love him, if you are silent. My poorboy, it seems cruel, but I must say it."

  "Shall I go away, Aunt?" was all his answer, very firmly uttered, thoughhis lips were white.

  "Not yet, only leave them to themselves, and hide your trouble if youcan. Yet, if you prefer, you shall go to town, and Benson shall see thatyou are comfortable. Your health will be a reason, and I will come, orwrite often, if you are homesick. It shall depend on you, for I want tobe just and kind in this hard case. You shall decide."

  "Then I will stay. I can hide my love; and to see them together willsoon cease to wound me, if Octavia is happy."

  "So let it rest then, for a time. You shall miss your companion aslittle as possible, for I will try to fill her place. Forgive me,Maurice, and pity a mother's solicitude, for these two are the last ofmany children, and I am a widow now."

  Lady Treherne's voice faltered, and if any selfish hope or planlingered in her nephew's mind, that appeal banished it and touched hisbetter nature. Pressing her hand he said gently, "Dear Aunt, do notlament over me. I am one set apart for afflictions, yet I will not beconquered by them. Let us forget my youth and be friendly counselorstogether for the good of the two whom we both love. I must say a wordabout Jasper, and you will not press me to explain more than I canwithout breaking my promise."

  "Thank you, thank you! It is regarding that woman, I know. Tell me allyou can; I will not be importunate, but I disliked her the instant I sawher, beautiful and charming as she
seems."

  "When my cousin and I were in Paris, just before my illness, we met her.She was with her father then, a gay old man who led a life of pleasure,and was no fit guardian for a lovely daughter. She knew our story and,having fascinated both, paused to decide which she would accept: Jasper,for his title, or me, for my fortune. This was before my uncle changedhis will, and I believed myself his heir; but, before she made herchoice, something (don't ask me what, if you please) occurred to send usfrom Paris. On our return voyage we were wrecked, and then came myillness, disinheritance, and helplessness. Edith Dubarry heard thestory, but rumor reported it falsely, and she believed both of us hadlost the fortune. Her father died penniless, and in a moment of despairshe married the general, whose wealth surrounds her with the luxury sheloves, and whose failing health will soon restore her liberty--"

  "And then, Maurice?" interrupted my lady.

  "She hopes to win Jasper, I think."

  "Never! We must prevent that at all costs. I had rather see him deadbefore me, than the husband of such a woman. Why is she permitted tovisit homes like mine? I should have been told this sooner," exclaimedmy lady angrily.

  "I should have told you had I known it, and I reproved Jasper for hisneglect. Do not be needlessly troubled, Aunt. There is no blemish onMrs. Snowdon's name, and, as the wife of a brave and honorable man, sheis received without question; for beauty, grace, or tact like hers canmake their way anywhere. She stays but a week, and I will devote myselfto her; this will save Jasper, and, if necessary, convince Tavie of myindifference--" Then he paused to stifle a sigh.

  "But yourself, have you no fears for your own peace, Maurice? You mustnot sacrifice happiness or honor, for me or mine."

  "I am safe; I love my cousin, and that is my shield. Whatever happensremember that I tried to serve you, and sincerely endeavored toforget myself."

  "God bless you, my son! Let me call you so, and feel that, though I denyyou my daughter, I give you heartily a mother's care and affection."

  Lady Treherne was as generous as she was proud, and her nephew hadconquered her by confidence and submission. He acted no part, yet, evenin relinquishing all, he cherished a hope that he might yet win theheart he coveted. Silently they parted, but from that hour a new andcloser bond existed between the two, and exerted an unsuspectedinfluence over the whole household.

  * * * * *

  Maurice waited with some impatience for Mrs. Snowdon's entrance, notonly because of his curiosity to see if she had discovered the thief,but because of the part he had taken upon himself to play. He was equalto it, and felt a certain pleasure in it for a threefold reason. Itwould serve his aunt and cousin, would divert his mind from its owncares, and, perhaps by making Octavia jealous, waken love; for, thoughhe had chosen the right, he was but a man, and moreover a lover.

  Mrs. Snowdon was late. She always was, for her toilet was elaborate, andshe liked to enjoy its effects upon others. The moment she enteredTreherne's eye was on her, and to his intense surprise and annoyance sheaddressed Octavia, saying blandly, "My dear Miss Treherne, I've beenadmiring your peacocks. Pray let me see you feed them tomorrow. MissTalbot says it is a charming sight."

  "If you are on the terrace just after lunch, you will find them there,and may feed them yourself, if you like" was the cool, civil reply.

  "She looks like a peacock herself in that splendid green and gold dress,doesn't she?" whispered Rose to Sir Jasper, with a wicked laugh.

  "Faith, so she does. I wish Tavie's birds had voices like Mrs.Snowdon's; their squalling annoys me intensely."

  "I rather like it, for it is honest, and no malice or mischief is hiddenbehind it. I always distrust those smooth, sweet voices; they areinsincere. I like a full, clear tone; sharp, if you please, but decidedand true."

  "Well said, Octavia. I agree with you, and your own is a perfect sampleof the kind you describe." And Treherne smiled as he rolled by to joinMrs. Snowdon, who evidently waited for him, while Octavia turned to herbrother to defend her pets.

  "Are you sure? How did you discover?" said Maurice, affecting to admirethe lady's bouquet, as he paused beside her.

  "I suspected it the moment I saw her this morning. She is no actress;and dislike, distrust, and contempt were visible in her face when wemet. Till you so cleverly told me my note was lost, I fancied she wasdisturbed about her brother--or you."

  A sudden pause and a keen glance followed the last softly utteredword, but Treherne met it with an inscrutable smile and a quiet "Well,what next?"

  "The moment I learned that you did not get the note I was sure she hadit, and, knowing that she must have seen me put it there, in spite ofher apparent innocence, I quietly asked her for it. This surprised her,this robbed the affair of any mystery, and I finished her perplexity bysending it to the major the moment she returned it to me, as if it hadbeen intended for him. She begged pardon, said her brother wasthoughtless, and she watched over him lest he should get into mischief;professed to think I meant the line for him, and behaved like a charmingsimpleton, as she is."

  "Quite a tumult about nothing. Poor little Tavie! You doubtlesslyfrightened her so that we may safely correspond hereafter."

  "You may give me an answer, now and here."

  "Very well, meet me on the terrace tomorrow morning; the peacocks willmake the meeting natural enough. I usually loiter away an hour or twothere, in the sunny part of the day."

  "But the girl?"

  "I'll send her away."

  "You speak as if it would be an easy thing to do."

  "It will, both easy and pleasant."

  "Now you are mysterious or uncomplimentary. You either care nothing fora tete-a-tete with her, or you will gladly send her out of my way.Which is it?"

  "You shall decide. Can I have this?"

  She looked at him as he touched a rose with a warning glance, for theflower was both an emblem of love and of silence. Did he mean to hintthat he recalled the past, or to warn her that someone was near? Sheleaned from the shadow of the curtain where she sat, and caught aglimpse of a shadow gliding away.

  "Who was it?" she asked, below her breath.

  "A Rose," he answered, laughing. Then, as if the danger was over, hesaid, "How will you account to the major for the message you sent him?"

  "Easily, by fabricating some interesting perplexity in which I want sagecounsel. He will be flattered, and by seeming to take him into myconfidence, I can hoodwink the excellent man to my heart's content, forhe annoys me by his odd way of mounting guard over me at all times. Nowtake me in to dinner, and be your former delightful self."

  "That is impossible," he said, yet proved that it was not.