 | Hilt to hilt, or, Days and nights on the banks of the Shenandoah in the autumn of 1864 |  |
XXXIII.
THE RING.
With the same subtle and mocking smile upon
the lips, the deserter continued: —
“Ratcliffe's plan was excellent, and had the
simplicity of genius. I need not tell you, my dear
Captain Landon, that cunning is more dangerous in
this world than force; that the most deadly of all
weapons, the keenest-edged tools to play with, are
the passions of the human heart!
“Well, our dear Ratcliffe determined to play
upon the love existing between yourself and Miss
Adair. His object, he declared, was to ruin your
character, break your engagement, destroy your
`insolent happiness,' — I well remember that phrase,
— and so `get even' with you and the young lady
at the same moment. In this he required my assistance,
— would I give it? If I would aid him he
would repay me by wedding me at once. We would
return to Tennessee, whence he came, and live in
wealth and luxury. Such was his offer, and it won
me. Do you laugh at me? Well, I deserve it.
But, to be frank again, I was very much in love with
figure had impressed my foolish fancy. I listened,
assented; three days afterward I had basely acted
as he dictated.
“You shall judge if I am wrong in saying that I
acted basely. Ratcliffe had said to me: `The first
thing was to make Landon's friends and family think
him a reprobate and a blackguard. I have seen
to that, he is ruined; now, the next thing is to
destroy him in the estimation of the girl he loves.
Here is a ring and a draft of a letter: copy and
sign the letter, enclose the ring in it, and put the
whole in this envelope.' With these words he left
me, and I read the rough draft of the letter. It
was truly devilish! — and I copied and sent it to
Miss Adair; sent the ring with it also, — your
engagement ring, which Ratcliffe afterward acknowledged
he had drawn from your finger while
you were asleep!”
Landon had listened, pale and cold, but his face
now flushed.
“I remember missing the ring,” he muttered,
“but thought that I had lost it while bathing in the
Hudson.”
“No, it was stolen from you; you know, at
last, how, and by whom.”
“And that letter,” said Landon, in an altered
“what was that letter?”
“Would you like to hear me repeat it? But, no,
that is not necessary. In the graceful little document,
Mademoiselle Antoinette Duvarny presented
her compliments to Miss Ellen Adair, and begged to
return to that young lady the engagement ring
which she had given to Mr. St. Leger Landon, and
which Mr. St. Leger Landon had in turn presented
to Mademoiselle Duvarny.”
Landon half rose; his eyes blazed.
“You were base enough to do that!” he said,
hoarsely, his brow wet with cold perspiration.
“Yes,” was the cool reply.
“And you dare to confess it! confess it to me!
— Miserable wretch —”
And Landon's hand was extended as though to
clutch some weapon.
“It was necessary,” came as coolly. “I would
have concealed this, but could not. For the rest,
Captain Landon, I am not compelled to speak. If
you do not wish to know all, tell me so, and I will
say no more.”
“Go on,” came in the same hoarse tone.
“Very good — to continue.”
And the deserter went on in a voice in which it
was impossible to discern the least emotion.
“I was speaking of the engagement ring which
Adair, its original owner. Mr. Landon — the letter
said — had for some time been the lover of Miss
Duvarny; in the confidence of private intercourse
had mentioned his little affair of the past with Miss
Adair; had laughed at it; spoken slightingly of Miss
A.; declared himself weary of the affair completely;
and had given her, Miss Duvarny, the little token
which she now returned, since she was unwilling to
retain the property of Miss Adair, under the peculiar
circumstances.
“That was all. But it was quite enough, — was
it not? A month afterwards Ratcliffe came to me
gleefully, and informed me that he had received intelligence
that your engagement with Miss Adair
had terminated. I never saw him more joyful.
“`That was a master-stroke!' he said, `and I
knew it would succeed, for I defy any woman to act
differently under the same circumstances. Acknowledge,
my dear,' he went on, `that the thing
was a real thunderbolt! You write on your pretty
little note-paper the history of your little affair with
our friend Landon; you enclose his engagement
ring given you by him, — what woman, after that,
but would scorn to see his face again, as long as she
lived?'
“`True,' I replied, `it was ingenious, but I feel
like the base woman I am, for the part I had in it.
“`Your reward?' he asked.
“`Yes,' I replied; `marry me and take me to
Tennessee. — I am tired of this.'
“His reply was a laugh.
“`Did I think he was in earnest?'
“I could have strangled him, and I think my
hatred commenced from that very moment. He
continued to reply to all my entreaties with the same
laughter; said only that some day, perhaps, he
would keep his promise; and then, in the midst of
all this, the war broke out. Ratcliffe was assigned
to duty with the army in Missouri, — came to tell me
good-by, and set out to join his command. I was
basely deserted.
“Well, two weeks afterwards I rejoined him, wearing
the dress of a boy. I continued with him;
came hither with him, loving him foolishly, blindly,
— a pleasing confession, is it not, gentlemen? I
continued to fill my post of orderly to Ratcliffe,
with my feelings unchanged, until — he met and
again began to love Miss Adair!”
The speaker paused. Her voice changed. She
had spoken up to this moment in a careless and
mocking tone, but, as she uttered those words, “until
he met and again began to love Miss Adair,” her
accent became cold and menacing.
“My story is nearly finished,” she added, with a
threatening flash of the eye, “and a few words will
tell you what has happened recently. Then I will
come to the main point, — my errand here!”
| Hilt to hilt, or, Days and nights on the banks of the Shenandoah in the autumn of 1864 | |