CHAPTER VIII.AN EMBARRASSING SITUATION.
“There is a lady in the parlor who wishes to see Mr. Merriwell,” said the boy.
“A lady?” exclaimed Frank, with a start.
“Yes, sir.”
“Did she send up a card?”
“No, sir.”
“Nor give you her name?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ll be down directly.”
The boy bowed, closed the door and departed.
Ephraim was chuckling.
“Gol-durned ef they ain’t comin’ to see yeou, Frank!” he exclaimed.
“Nonsense!” cried Merry. “This is not one of them.”
“Then who is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“It might be one of them,” said Hodge, rather maliciously.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Merry, but it was plain he did not fancy the idea. “No one but a crazy female would think of doing such an immodest thing.”
“From what you have said, it’s plain you think some females do get a little daffy over actors.”
“Whut ef it is one?” asked Ephraim, still chuckling. “Whut will yeou do, Frank?”
“I’ll give her a little advice!” exclaimed Merry, as he prepared to go. “I shall talk plainly to her. But it may be some actress who is out of an engagement and wants a position.”
He went out, leaving Bart and Ephraim in the room. Frank was not in the most agreeable mood possible, for he had been annoyed by the letters.
He made his way straight to the ladies’ parlor. In a corner a woman was sitting. No other person happened to be in the parlor at the moment when Frank entered.
As Frank came in, the woman rose quickly and came toward him. He paused when he saw her face fairly.
“Great Scott!” was his mental exclamation. “It is the one who threw the flowers from the box!”
The woman was handsomely dressed, and she showed some signs of agitation. Frank surveyed her quickly. He saw at a glance that she was a person who seemed more attractive at a distance than on closer view. Still she was of the type that most men might call handsome. There was a look of mingled boldness and hesitation about her that was rather bewildering.
Her voice was not unpleasant.
“Mr. Merriwell!” she exclaimed.
“You wish to see me, madam?” said Merry, rather frigidly.
“Yes, yes!” she exclaimed.
“I am here.”
There was nothing in Frank’s manner to encourage familiarity.
“You—you—don’t you recognize me?”
The situation was far from agreeable to him, and he resolved to discourage her at the very start.
“I have not had the honor of being presented to you,” he said, with a faint bow.
She made an impatient gesture.
“But you recognize me? I threw you flowers—from the box. There—there—was a—a note attached.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Madam, permit me to tell you it was very foolish for you to write a note to an utter stranger.”
“But you—you did not seem like a stranger. You—why, it seemed that I had known you always!”
She half extended her hand, as if to rest it on his arm, but he drew back. A shadow came over her face, and a look of pain seemed to leap into her large dark eyes. Very expressive eyes they were. At first they had seemed full of innocence, but somehow there was something uncertain and shifty about them—something that gave their wide-open innocence the lie.
“Yes,” said Frank, regretting the necessity of speaking thus, yet feeling that he must, “it was very rash of you. You could know nothing of me. For all you knew I might be a rascal.”
“Oh, no, no, no!” she cried. “I knew you were not that! A rascal could not play the part ofDick Trueheartand make it so natural—so noble. I knew you had a good and noble heart. I knew you were the one man in all the wide world whom I could love!”
It was becoming more embarrassing for Merry. Somehow, there was a mingled timidity and unspeakable boldness about the woman that mystified him not a little. He wondered if she could be just right, mentally.
“Madam,” he said, “will you tell me at once what you want of me. My time is limited.”
“Now, don’t speak to me like that!” she almost sobbed. “It hurts me—here!”
One hand fluttered up to her heart.
“Well, this is a nice mess!” thought Merriwell. “What can I do with her?”
He did not like to run away; it did not seem dignified.
“As I watched you last night,” she went on, swiftly, “I became more and more infatuated. When the curtain fell on the third act I was completely carried away. Iknew I had found the hero of my life’s dream. I did not know you. We had never met before. I knew of no manner of obtaining an introduction. Then it was I resolved to fling conventionality to the wind, and I hastily wrote a single line on a slip of paper, which I attached to the flowers I carried. Then, when you were called before the curtain, I flung the flowers at your feet. You picked them up—oh, bliss!—and bowed and smiled upon me!”
She seemed trembling with the great excitement that governed her. The embarrassment of Frank’s position increased.
“Hang it!” he thought. “I wish I had let those flowers alone!”
“I went home,” the young woman continued. “And all last night I dreamed of you, over and over and over. They were happy dreams. Ah, I was so sorry when the light of morning came in at my window and drove away my dreams by robbing me of sleep. I tried to sleep and dream some more.”
“Well, she’s got it bad!” Merry mentally exclaimed. “I’m afraid I’ll have trouble with this case. I wonder if insanity runs in her family. She’s old enough to know better, so she must be cracked.”
“At last,” the panting woman continued, leaning toward him, “I arose, and I made a desperate resolve to meet you somehow—anyhow. Then I wrote to you in the words ofJuliet, which seemed to express my feelings so well. Did you receive my letter?”
“Yes,” confessed Frank.
Her face lighted up.
“Ah,” she sighed, “I wonder if you understood—I wonder if you knew how sincere I was! Oh, I could not write you everything, and I longed to so much, but I knew you would not understand. As it was, I hadto find a moment when my husband did not see me, for he——”
“Your husband?” grasped Merry, thunderstruck.
“Yes; he is so suspicious—so jealous and cruel!”
“Great heavens! madam, are you married?”
“I am. I was married when I was sixteen—to a man I hate! Oh, you cannot know the horror of being bound to a person you hate! It is dreadful!”
Now, Merry was beginning to grow indignant.
“And you, a married woman, are seeking a flirtation with a stranger—an actor? Madam, your folly is astonishing!”
“Don’t—don’t speak to me like that!” she pleaded, tears seeming to spring to her eyes. “I am not seeking a flirtation! I am seeking to know my ideal. You—you are my ideal!”
“It is the height of folly and rashness!” exclaimed Frank, severely. “Madam, if you have no thought for yourself, you should have some regard for me! Think of the position in which you are placing me!”
“But if you care for me—if you love me——”
“I do not!”
Once more her hand fluttered up to her heart.
“That is because you do not know me,” she declared. “If you knew me—if you knew all about my terrible position, tied to this man I hate, you would have sympathy for me.”
“Even though you are bound to a man you hate, you are doing a most unwise thing in seeking consolation from a stranger and an actor. You can know nothing of me. Take my advice, madam, release yourself from this man you hate before you seek to win the affections of any other man. If you do not, you will succeed in winning nothing but the disdain of any man worth winning.”
Again the tears brimmed in her eyes.
“Oh, how can you speak to me like that!” she cried. “It is cruel of you!”
“In this case, cruelty may be kindness. You have placed me in a most awkward situation, madam. If you have as much regard for me as you claim, it hardly seems that you would do such a thing.”
“Oh, what can a woman do when her heart governs her in her every act! I felt that I must meet you, and there was no other way for me to do so. I could not let you go without knowing you—without seeking a few words of consolation from you.”
“I am very sorry for you, but you should let your head govern your heart. I trust you will excuse me, madam. This interview is anything but pleasant for me.”
He half turned away, but she uttered a cry that stopped him. She seemed on the point of flinging herself at his feet.
“Great Scott!” gasped Merry. “I hope she isn’t going to make a scene of that sort! It would be too much!”
“Don’t—don’t leave me just yet!” she entreated.
“I must,” he firmly answered.
“Stop!” she exclaimed, her eyes beginning to flash. “You cannot scorn me—you shall not! I have cast my pride aside, and I have exposed myself to your ridicule—all for what?”
“Nothing.”
The word seemed like a blow. For a moment he fancied she was about to pour a torrent of angry words upon him, but something entirely different happened. With a low, queer cry, she sprang forward, attempting to fling her arms about his neck!
“I love you!” she panted.
He grasped her wrists and held her off.
“You are crazy!” he exclaimed.
At that instant a flushed and furious-looking man burst into the parlor, carrying a revolver in his hand.
“Villain!” cried the man. “That is my wife!”
“Well, this is jolly!” muttered Merry, wheeling to face the newcomer.
“Reginald!” burst from the lips of the woman.
The man paid no attention to her, but he glared at Merry in a murderous manner, shaking the revolver.
“Wretch!” he snarled.
He was a man about thirty years of age, well dressed, but somewhat dissipated in appearance. He seemed wrought up to a pitch of great fury.
“My dear sir,” said Merry, with the utmost coolness, “you had better be careful with that revolver.”
“Be careful!” grated the angry husband. “I’ll be careful with it! I’ll fill you full of lead!”
“Now, I wouldn’t do that. You might be sorry for it afterward.”
“What were you doing with my wife?”
“Giving her a little advice, that’s all.”
“I know better! I know what I saw with my own eyes! I tracked her here! I knew she flung flowers to you last night! I knew she wrote to you this morning!”
“If a lady sees fit to fling flowers to me, I can’t help it. If she writes to me, I can’t prevent that”
“Then you acknowledge it! That is enough! Now I will shoot you!”
“Reginald!” the woman again cried. “Heavens, he will shoot!”
As the man lifted the revolver Frank leaped to one side and sprang forward. In a twinkling he had grasped the weapon. There was a short, sharp struggle, andthe young actor leaped away, with the weapon in his hand.
“I think I have stood about enough of this nonsense!” he said, sternly.
The man seemed astounded by the easy manner in which he was disarmed, but he made a motion as if thinking of following Frank up.
“Don’t do it!” advised Merry. “The limit has been reached! I did not seek the acquaintance of your wife, and——”
He caught a look from the trembling woman, and he was puzzled by it. There seemed disappointment and appeal in her eyes. Instantly Merry wondered what he could say to shield her. It seemed strange that she did not faint or go into hysterics at the sight of her husband, but still there was an expression of terror on her face that made Frank pity her.
“Poor, weak thing!” thought Merry. “There is no telling what may be the result of this for her.”
Then he swiftly said:
“The lady was pleased with my play and my acting. She came here to tell me so. It is possible she has contemplated becoming an actress herself. She may have come to me for that reason. If so, I advise her to give up all thoughts of going on the stage.”
It was lame enough, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances without lying direct. Frank hated a liar, and yet he realized there were times when a man’s gallantry to a woman would force him to deviate from the direct truth. Such a “deviation” did not seem like a genuine lie.
“Bah!” cried the man, scornfully. “Don’t think you can make me believe such rot as that! I know better!”
“You are at liberty to believe it or not, just as youlike, sir,” said Merry. “But I have stood quite enough nonsense.”
“Oh, you have? And you enticed my wife here to meet you!”
“I did nothing of the kind, sir. Your wife came here entirely of her own accord, without enticement of any kind from me.”
“Oh, I know better! You can’t make me believe it was because she was interested in your play. She’ll not dare say that. Tell the truth woman—why did you come here?”
She threw back her head, and then a strange, defiant laugh burst from her lips.
“Very well, sir,” she sneered. “I will tell the truth.”
“Go on, go on! Why did you come here, madam?”
“I came because I wished to meet Frank Merriwell.”
“Ha! You confess it?”
“Yes, I confess it!”
“Ah-a!”
“I admire him—I love him!” declared the woman.
“Ah-a!” again burst from the lips of her husband.
“He is my ideal.”
“You hear that, sir!”
Frank heard it, and he realized that his efforts to shield her had been worse than useless.
“As for you,” she went on, giving her husband a scornful look. “I thought I loved you once—till I saw Frank Merriwell. Now—now I despise you!”
“By Jove! this is getting hot again!” thought Merry. “What fools some women are!”
The man ground his teeth together and walked the floor. He threw his hat aside and tore his hair.
“I knew it!” he panted. “This cheap actor has won your heart! He has alienated your affections from me!”
“Don’t dare call him a cheap actor!” she exclaimed, haughtily. “He is grand and noble!”
“I must make a noble picture just now,” thought Frank, in deep disgust.
The words of the woman seemed to throw the man into still greater fury, and it appears that he was about to attack her.
“I’ll have to defend her if he does,” Frank mentally decided.
“Woman, woman!” panted the furious husband, glaring at her. “Is this what you have come to!”
“It is,” she returned, defiantly. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll kill you—I’ll kill you both!”
“A man who threatens that way seldom carries out his threats,” was Merry’s consoling thought.
“Go ahead,” defied the woman. “I rather think Frank Merriwell can protect me.”
“Protect you! I am the one to protect you! And you have turned to this common actor!”
“‘Cheap actor!’ ‘Common actor!’” muttered Merry. “This is real jolly!”
“You protect me!” sneered the woman. “I am done with you! I shall leave you forever!”
“And this wretch has caused it all. You cannot deny that!”
“I do not wish to deny it. Ever since his eyes met mine, I have felt myself drawn to him by an irresistible influence.”
“He has hypnotized you! Oh, he shall pay dearly for this!”
The husband shook his fist at Frank.
“He has won my heart, and I can never be anything to you again,” laughed the reckless woman.
“Oh, you scoundrel!” shouted the man. “You have ruined my happiness! I swear you shall pay for it!”
“I think I have stood quite enough of this!” Merry broke out. “I deny that I have interfered with you in any way.”
“How can you deny it—liar?”
“If you dare use such language again, I’ll be tempted to give you the thrashing you seem to desire, sir!” flashed Frank. “I am very sorry this unfortunate affair has taken place, but I declare it is in no way my fault. At first I was inclined to protect this lady, but she has seen fit to make that impossible, and now I feel at liberty to tell the whole truth.”
“Tell it! tell it—if you dare!”
“I will, in a very few words. I confess that your wife threw me flowers from a box last night, and she came here to meet me to-day.”
“Then there was an appointment?”
“No! I did not know she was coming. She did not send up her card, but the boy said a lady wished to see me in the parlor. I believe every man should be as gallant to ladies as circumstances will permit.”
“Oh, yes!” sneered the husband, his lips curling.
“I came down to see what the lady desired. Your wife was here. I was in no way responsible for what followed, but I assure you that she received no encouragement from me.”
“What did I see as I entered this room?” demanded the man.
“You saw me preventing her from clasping her arms about my neck. I had just told her how foolish she was, but she would not be rebuffed.”
“Liar!” panted the husband, seeming to become still more furious. “Do you dare accuse my wife of such immodesty! Do you dare charge her with followingyou without encouragement! She would not do such a thing. You are trying to shield yourself behind a woman, you cowardly young——”
“Stop!” exploded Frank, stepping forward. “I have stood quite enough of this from you! I am sorry for you, but I am not willing to be called all sorts of vile names. Your wife forced me to tell the truth and the whole truth. I do not fancy lying, but I might have stretched the truth to protect her if she had given me any chance. She gave me no chance. She came here of her own accord, without encouragement from me, and——”
“Oh, you shall pay for every word you speak! You dare thus traduce my wife, you——”
“Stop again! I have seen quite enough of both you and your wife. I trust you will be good enough to take her away. She is not the only one to write me mash notes, and——”
Again the husband interrupted:
“So you boast of your conquests! You are a gallant young blade! But you are like all actors, a poor, miserable——”
“You are like all jealous husbands—you have not a particle of sense in your head. You are decidedly exasperating, sir. Be kind enough to take your wife and go!”
“I will not go with him!” panted the woman, suddenly rushing on Frank and clasping him about the neck. “I will stay with you! You are the one I love!”