Capitolas Peril - Page 189/218

"Ah, the villain!" exclaimed Traverse, between his teeth.

"He told me at last that to save the memory of his dead brother he

would hide my dishonor, and he ordered me to seclude myself from the

sight of all persons. I obeyed him like a slave, grateful even for the

shelter of his roof."

"A roof that was your own, as he very well knew. And he knew, also, the

caitiff! that if the circumstance became known the whole State would

have protected you in your rights, and ejected him like a cur."

"Nay, even in that case no harm should have reached him on my account.

He was my husband's brother."

"And worst enemy! But proceed, dear lady."

"Well, I secluded myself as he commanded. For four months I never left

the attic to which he had ordered me to retreat. At the end of that

time I became the mother of twins--a boy and a girl. The boy only

opened his eyes on this world to close them again directly. The girl

was living and healthy. The old nurse who attended me had an honest and

compassionate face; I persuaded her to secrete and save the living

child, and to present the dead babe to Colonel Le Noir as the only one,

for the suspicions that had never been awakened for myself were alarmed

for my child. I instinctively felt that he would have destroyed it."

"The mother's instinct is like inspiration," said Traverse.

"It may be so. Well, the old woman pitied me and did as I desired. She

took the dead child to Colonel Le Noir, who carried it off, and

afterward buried it as the sole heir of his elder brother. The old

woman carried off my living child and my wedding ring, concealed under

her ample shawl. Anxiety for the fate of my child caused me to do what

nothing else on earth would have tempted me to do--to creep about the

halls and passages on tiptoe and under cover of the night and listen at

keyholes," said the lady, blushing deeply at the recollection.

"You--you were perfectly right, Mrs. Le Noir! In a den of robbers,

where your life and honor were always at stake, you could have done no

otherwise!" exclaimed Traverse, warmly.

"I learned by this means that my poor old nurse had paid with her

liberty for her kindness to me. She had been abducted and forced from

her native country together with a child found in her possession, which

they evidently suspected, and I knew, to be mine. Oh, heaven! the agony

then of thinking of what might be her unknown fate, worse than death,

perhaps! I felt that I had only succeeded in saving her life--doubtful

good!"