Maris

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Having thus disposed of the wedding, he rolled the wedding dress up in a wad along with the veil and orange blossoms and shoes and bestowed them in a suit box, which he ordered the steward to have wrapped and shipped to his home. He was resolved that he would somehow bring it about, sometime in the future, that Maris should yet wear that wedding dress and be married to him. He would take a little time off in Europe on this supposed business trip and give her mother time to get well, or die, one or the other, and then he would come back and make Maris eat humble pie and have such a wedding as he should prescribe. When he once brought her thoroughly to her knees, she would do what he said, and like it!

  With which resolve he went downstairs to the bar and refreshed himself with several drinks. His wedding night without a bride had to be celebrated in some way. So he drank. Tomorrow he would look up that actress and forget Maris for a while.

  But somehow it was not easy to forget Maris, and he had to take a good many drinks before the vision of her face in her wedding array faded from his thoughts, and he began to consider other phases of the subject. There, for instance, was all that money he had paid to the man and woman who carried out his plans. He had had to borrow it from his mother, and he didn't see how he was ever going to pay it back again. Probably Dad would find it out, and then there would be an awful row! Strange he had so much trouble in his life! Strange he could never have anything he wanted without a fuss.

  He, who had been pampered ever since he was born!

  He drank so much that he had to be helped up to his stateroom at last and went to bed dead drunk!

  And that was the night that was to have been Maris's wedding night!

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Meanwhile Maris, limp in the arms of an unknown man, dumb with new fear and horror, panted for her breath in the darkness and wished she could die. She was too tired to go on, too dazed to think a way out of this maze of disasters into which she had so innocently walked a few hours ago.

  "No weapon. . .shall prosper!" came the words through her despairing mind. Was that then untrue, that promise that had so heartened her? Did God not care?

  The man had recovered his balance and was looking down at her. He had been running for that ship that was so noisily sailing away from the dock. Had he missed it after coming so far? And just because some crazy woman had dashed into him and almost knocked him over?

  Even if he dropped her right here and ran on, could he make it? But one couldn't just drop a woman like that who had fallen into his arms and was apparently almost unconscious and breathing painfully. She lay like a deadweight in his arms. It was not thinkable that he could lay her down here and dash on, not even for his own important errand! He held her back a little and looked into her face, and then suddenly he exclaimed and drew her close again, as one draws something precious.

  "Maris! Beloved!" he breathed, not knowing what he was saying. "Oh, my dear! Are you hurt?"

  He bent over her, looking into her face against his shoulder, and suddenly her eyes opened and she looked at him. Then all at once the stark terror within her eyes turned to incredulous wonder and a great blinding joy. She clung to him and quivered, hiding her face on his chest. His arms went around her and held her close.

  "Oh, Lane!" she whispered. "Oh, Lane!" It was all she could say, and great long shudders of relief shook her slender body.

  Then suddenly she remembered and grew tense again.

  "Hide me! Quick," she pleaded. "There was somebody after me!"

  She turned her head and looked behind and then hid her eyes again and shuddered. She was breathless, and her voice trailed off.

  "There! My darling!" he said gently, patting her head as if she were a little child. "Nobody shall touch you, beloved! I'll take care of you! Come! Are you able to walk? It's only a step to my car!"

  With a strong arm supporting her, her hand in his, he set her upon her feet and led her quickly out into the shadows of the street and across to where he had left his car.

  There were people coming away now, a good many of them. She could hear their footsteps and their voices. She clutched at his arm, but he drew her around the other side of the car out of sight and put her gently in.

  "Put your head back and rest," he said. "No one will see you. No one will trouble you anymore. I am here to protect you."

  She dropped her head back, but her eyes peered out, and he saw she was still frightened. It was not until they had driven several blocks away from the wharf and left the crowd entirely behind that she began to relax and be more like herself.

  He had his hands full with traffic for a few minutes, but when they reached the Holland Tunnel and were speeding down the smooth way he spoke again: "What are you afraid of, Maris? No one can get you now. They will not recognize you riding along in the car. They cannot see your face enough for that. And what could they do to you now that you are with me and I am here to protect you?"

  "Oh," she said; her voice with a little tremble in it was almost between a laugh and a wail. "It's that coat! It is not mine. They might arrest me for stealing. I had to take it. There was nothing else."

  He laughed.

  "We can pay for the coat, or send it back. Don't worry about that. Just you rest back and shut your eyes. Aren't you too warm in that heavy coat with all that fur about your neck? Don't you want to take it off? We can fling it out the car window when we get out of the tunnel if you want to."

  "Oh, but I can't take it off," she said, laughing shakily. "They took my own dress, and I had to put on this coat or I never could have got away!"

  Lane considered that.

  "Well, now see here," he said, "I think we can remedy that. Why don't you put on my coat? I certainly don't need it on this warm night. I only happened to have it along because I was hoping to take you out in the car. It's thin. It's only linen. It surely will be more comfortable than that heavy thing."

  "But oughtn't I send it back to the owner?"

  "Do you know who the owner is?"

  "No, but there might be a way of finding out. I felt some papers in the pocket when I put it on."

  "Well, then, we won't throw it out, but you are going to be more comfortable. Here!"

  He stopped the car for a moment and slid out of his coat, handing it over to her.

  "Now," he said, "take off that coat, and hand it out to me. I'm going to get out and open the trunk in the back and get this coat out of your sight. If there are papers in the pocket, we must guard them carefully. They might give some clue--"

  He got out, and Maris hastily changed into the linen coat and handed the tweed coat through the window. When he got back in again, he asked her if that was more comfortable.

  "Oh, so much!" she said. "I didn't see how I was going to stand it all the way home."

  "Well, now," said Lane, "I don't want to force your confidence, but it's necessary that I telephone Merrick as soon as possible. I wonder--do you want to tell me anything? I don't want you to have to dwell on unpleasant things, but Merrick is liable to have a couple of detectives out scouting right now, and he'll want to know what I've found out!"

  "Oh," she said with a quick gasp, "is Merrick all right?"

  "Yes, Merrick is quite all right. He's at home safe and well, waiting anxiously to hear from me. If it will help you any, I'll just tell you what I know. I was out in our yard looking for a ball and heard your friend drive up and tell you that yarn about Merrick. I didn't hear more than a word or two, but it was enough to worry me. I called to you as you were getting in the car that I would take you, but the door was slammed shut and the car shot away, so I followed as fast as I could. What happened next?"

  "Not much that I can tell," said Maris. "They shoved me into the seat and someone caught me in his arms, or her arms; it might have been a woman. They stuffed a bitter wet rag down my throat, and I passed out. That's all I know till I woke up on board that ship. With my head going around in circles and some woman taking off my shoes. She lifted my head and fixed something under
it, and when I dared open my eyes a little, I found I was dressed in a heavy white satin dress and a veil and silver shoes. The woman smoothed down my dress and went away, and when I looked again, she was powdering her nose and putting on a hat. Then she picked up things around the room and put them in her suitcase. My dress I had worn away was one of them. I think that coat belonged to her. It smells of unpleasant perfume just as she did. She must have forgotten it in her hurry. She got all ready and seemed impatient, as if she were waiting on someone. She didn't look my way anymore. I was terribly afraid that awful man was coming. But at the second call to go ashore she just made a dash for the door, and I think she forgot to lock it. I was wondering how I would get out if she locked it. I wondered if the steward would let me out without asking questions if I rang. But she didn't lock it, and as soon as I heard her going down the stairs, I jumped up and tore off that dress and veil and those shoes. I found my own shoes, snatched the coat from the hook on the wall, and ran. I had an awful time getting off. I couldn't find the way. And once I came upon Tilford and the woman talking at the foot of the steps by the gangplank. I drew back just in time and then got all mixed up in the freight place. But a sailor put me off there, for the other gangplank had been hauled up. I had an awful time getting through the crowd, and I saw Tilford again up on deck. I was sure he would recognize me, so I ducked behind some boxes and started to run, but I fell over a coil of rope, and then I thought I heard the woman coming, so I got up and ran blindly. But when I ran into you, I thought the end had come."

  Lane's hand went tenderly out and folded over hers, like a blessing, it seemed to Maris.

  He was quite still for a moment, and then he said, "Have you any idea who perpetrated this dastardly deed?"

  His voice was husky with feeling. He was joyously conscious of that first moment when he held her in his arms. And he didn't just know where he stood with her.

  Maris didn't answer right away. She, too, was remembering the thrill of his arms about her and felt a constraint. Her voice was low, almost shamed, when she finally spoke.

  "I'm afraid I do," she said sadly. "I'm afraid--no, I mean, I'm almost sure--it was Tilford Thorpe!"

  Her head drooped and her eyes were downcast as if she felt she ought not to tell that, or rather as if it were her own shame she was confessing, not another's.

  Lane considered that.

  "What makes you think so?" he asked, his voice almost embarrassed.

  "Because I saw his initials, T. T., on the baggage in the stateroom. Because we had had a discussion about a wedding dress his mother wanted me to get, and I'm almost sure it was that dress I was wearing! Because--"She hesitated, and again that shamed look crossed her face. "Because that woman had put his ring on my finger, the ring I had given back to him some days ago! Then, too, I saw him on the ship, you know."

  "That's pretty conclusive evidence!" said Lane, his lips setting in a stern line. "It's hard to believe that any man from a respectable family would stoop to a thing like this. But--I won't distress you now by discussing it. The important thing is, Merrick should be told at once that you are found. I'm stopping right here to telephone. Aren't you hungry? I'll bring you a sandwich. Here's my hat. Put it on, and pull it down in front if you are afraid anybody might recognize you. I won't be a minute."

  Lane dashed out at a bright little wayside restaurant and true to his word was back in an unbelievably short time. His message to Merrick had been crisp and brief, filled with a note of joy that pulsed over the wire to the tired brother and lifted his burden even before he took in all the words.

  "Hello, Merrick! Happy ending! It's just as we thought. I've got her safe and sound, and we're on our way home! No bloodshed and nobody the wiser yet when we left. Better put the quietus on the cops for the present, at least till we get there."

  They were on their way again, thrilling over each other's nearness and over Maris's swift deliverance. Eating their sandwiches and saying little as they flew along through the night.

  At last Maris spoke.

  "Where were you going, Lane, when I collided with you? What were you going to do?"

  "I don't exactly know," he said gravely. "I was trusting the Lord to guide me. I was expecting Him to open the way as I came to it. I was on my way to catch that ship, even if I had to sail all the way across to find out if you were on it. You see, I had a flat tire on the way up, or I'd have been there a full half hour before sailing time, in plenty of time to find your stateroom and go to it, ostensibly to say good-bye. That was all the plan I had when I started. If I got as far as that, I knew the way would open. I would be shown what to do."

  "But I don't understand how you got the idea I would be there. Why did you think I would be on board the ship?"

  "Why, you see, I followed that car you were in, and it took you to a measly little rat of an airplane, and the plane went north--that was all I had to go on. That and the license number of the car. I noticed it while the car stood before your house. But it was Merrick who suggested the ship and gave me the name and time of sailing."

  "Why would Merrick think I would be on the ship?" she asked in a puzzled tone. "I would never have thought of Tilford doing a thing like that. Why, I couldn't believe it myself at first."

  "I'm afraid your brother hasn't a very high idea of Mr. Thorpe," said Lane dryly.

  "No," said Maris sadly, "I knew he didn't like him, but I thought it was just a prejudice that he would get over when he knew him better. Oh, if I had only realized sooner what he was! But Lane, you have been wonderful. It was marvelous for you to come all this way to find me."

  "Wonderful!" said Lane. "Wonderful?" He gave her a look in the darkness that would have told her volumes if she could have seen the full splendor of it, and then he added in a tone of deep feeling, "Why, Maris, I think I'd have died if I couldn't have gone! You don't know what you mean to me! This is no time to be talking about myself, I know, just when you're finding out the character of the man you thought you were going to marry. Of course, you don't want to hear anybody else talk about love now. But Maris, I guess I've got to tell you that I love you as my very life. I don't want the knowledge of it to be a burden to you. I just want you to understand that I am one friend who would give his life for you if necessary. Even if in the future you can never care about me, I'll go right on loving you and doing everything I can to care for you. I'll be your brother, or your friend, or just nothing but a servant for times of need if you don't want me to be closer. I want you to know that there is a strong earthly love that carries no obligations, that is yours for the taking, but you don't need to take it if you don't want it."

  Lane was silent for a moment, scarcely daring to look toward her, wishing now he had waited until another time to speak.

  Then Maris spoke in a small voice: "But I do want it, Lane!"

  He brought the car to a sudden stop at the roadside and turned toward her.

  "You do! Do you mean that, Maris? You're not just saying it because you are grateful for my coming after you?"

  "Oh, no!" she said with a great surrender in her voice. "I love you, Lane! I've fought against it almost ever since you came back. It was your coming that made me feel there was something wrong in my feeling for Tilford. At first I was only wishing that he might be like you, but soon I knew that wasn't enough. I knew you were taking his place in my heart. I struggled against it with all my might for a few days, but I wasn't able to keep my heart from thrilling every time I saw you coming across the lawn, every time I heard your voice on the telephone, every time I touched that beautiful Bible you gave me! It troubled me very much, because I was going to marry Tilford in a few days, and I knew it wasn't right for me to be thinking of you. I was very unhappy. I wanted him to be you, the way you used to be when we were children in school and you used to carry my books home for me and bring me candy--"

  Suddenly Lane's arms went out and drew her hungrily to himself, holding her close, his lips against her hair.

  "My darling!" he s
aid softly. "My own dear girl!"

  She nestled closer to him and felt that suddenly heaven on earth was before her.

  "Go on!" he breathed. "Tell me the rest."

  Her hand slipped up around his neck, and she drew his head down. Softly, shyly, she laid her lips against his.

  "I wish there weren't any of that to tell," she said sadly. "It seems so dreadful that I should have let myself think I was in love with a man like that when God was preparing this for me!"

  "Beloved," he said, his lips against her eyelids, "don't feel that way. Tell me the rest, and let's get it over with and just be thankful God led us back together."

  "I know," she said. "I am. I think even this last act was an answer to my prayer. You see, Tilford had been very disagreeable about Mother's illness and about my caring for Lexie. He practically insisted I leave them both to nurses and a hired housekeeper and stay with his mother until the wedding. And when I wouldn't, he tried to exert what he called authority over me, by right of his ring that I was wearing. So I gave him back his ring. His actions then did a great deal to open my eyes to his true self, for I had never seen him cross before. He had always had his own way. But afterward I got to thinking about his disappointment and fearing that perhaps I had not been gentle in my way of saying no. That perhaps I had no right to give back the ring when the wedding was almost at hand. I worried a lot about it and couldn't sleep. Till at last I just asked the Lord to make it very plain to me whether He wanted me to apologize and marry Tilford later when Mother got well or give him up. And the answer to that was"--she paused and a shutter went through her--"this! This awful thing that happened tonight! It was unmistakable, but it was a terrible lesson for me to have to have."

  Lane laid his lips on hers.

  "Precious little girl!" he said softly. " 'Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits!' "

  Maris laid her tired head on his broad shoulder, closed her eyes, and let such gladness flow over her as she never had known before. It seemed a healing tide to wipe out all the awfulness of what had gone before.