Gordon Craig, Soldier of Fortune

Chapter 9

Chapter 91,476 wordsPublic domain

WE COMPLETE ARRANGEMENTS

For a few moments as I sat thus in silence the obvious way out never once occurred to me. Somehow the memory of my own position had become blotted out in contemplation of the serious predicament of my companion. How could I assist her in spite of her pride, and her determination to continue the struggle alone. I could not take her to my boarding house, which was exclusively for men, nor did I have any acquaintance able to furnish her employment. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, and my fingers touched the two bills handed me by Vail. For an instant I failed to realize their significance, and then the recollection of my own engagement came swiftly back. At first the memory was a disgust; the very presence of the girl, and her tale of struggle, made me realize the sordidness of this plot in which I was involved. Somehow it struck me then as a dirty, underhanded scheme. Yet, as I reviewed the details, this conception largely vanished. We were defrauding no one, merely protecting a man helpless to protect himself, backed by legal advice, as well as by the desire of the administrators of the will. The comparatively large sum of money offered me for the service was not excessive considering the amount involved, or the way in which I physically resembled the party represented. The feeling of resentment died away, but I doubted if she could be made to look at it in the same light. I glanced across to where she sat, the gray dawn giving me clear view. Her head rested back upon one arm, and she was asleep. Uncomfortable as she looked, she was still resting, the tired lines of her face less noticeable. I had no heart to awaken her, and remained motionless, thinking it all over carefully in detail.

We remained undisturbed, our settee removed from the main pathway, along which a few early workmen passed. She was the very one to act the part of Philip Henley's wife, if she would consent. Her refinement, the clear innocence of her face, would be convincing, and I began already to long for her company. Yet she would have to be told every detail, convinced the apparent fraud was justifiable. I rather dreaded the look in her eyes when she first heard the proposal, and her questioning me. While I still hesitated, fearful of refusal, the sun shining upon her face awoke her suddenly. She straightened up instantly, but her eyes smiled as they met mine.

"I was asleep," she said in surprise. "For how long?"

"Nearly two hours."

"And you have sat there quietly all that time?"

"That is nothing. I was tired, but not sleepy. Besides, I had so much to think about."

"You mean regarding what you shall do with me," and she arose to her feet. "It is time now I did something for myself."

"Wait, please," and I extended my hand, almost forcing her back upon the settee. "Let me say a word first before you decide to go. All I told you last night about myself is true, with one exception. I have money, and profitable work in view--see!" and I held before her the two bills.

She gazed at them with wide-open eyes, half convinced of some legerdemain.

"A thousand dollars," she exclaimed bewildered. "_You_! why, what does it all mean?"

"Yes, and nine thousand more promised, when I complete work that ought not to require to exceed two months. I was not without money in the restaurant, only I could not ask the cashier to change so large a bill. Sit down again, please, and let me tell you the story."

She did so, almost reluctantly, as though doubting my sanity, but I could note a change in the expression of her face as I proceeded. I told it slowly, carefully, pausing to explain each detail to her questioning, yet was not interrupted more than once or twice. Somehow, as I thus repeated the proposed scheme to another it did not appear quite as easy, or honorable, as when I faced it alone. However, I struggled through, painting the affair as well as I could, but without daring to propose her cooperation. Her wide-open eyes on my face gave me a thrill of apprehension I could not analyze.

"That 's the whole story," I ended, rather lamely.

"What do you think of it?"

"I--I hardly know," with slow hesitation. "It is very strange. Tell me the young man's name again."

"Henley--Philip Henley."

"And the town?"

"Carrollton, Alabama."

"And he is in prison for crime, you say--what crime?"

"Forgery, a fourteen-year sentence."

"Did they tell you when he was sent there?"

"No; I believe not."

"And his wife has disappeared? They can find no trace of her?"

"So both men assured me."

"And this one named Neale--are you certain he is an administrator?"

"Yes, I was shown a certified copy of the will; everything seemed to be exactly as represented."

She pressed one hand to her forehead, her eyes on the ground. I watched her, an unasked question trembling on my lips. Suddenly she looked up again, her cheeks flushed.

"You were going to suggest that I go with you, were you not?" she asked swiftly. "That I play the wife's part? Why did n't you ask it?"

"Because I lacked courage," I replied frankly, yet leaning eagerly toward her. "I was afraid you would take such a proposition wrongly."

"Then you retain some respect for me; some faith in my character?"

"I certainly do," earnestly.

"And you see nothing wrong in carrying out your part? You mean to go to Carrollton with someone--a woman?"

"I--I agreed to the terms--yes."

She drew a long breath, her eyes upon mine.

"Then I will go also," she said soberly, and held out her hand.

"You mean that?"

"Yes--why not? Surely it is as right for me as for you. You wished me to say yes, did you not?"

My face must have answered, as my lips failed, but she went on swiftly:

"Then I will go; only remember it is acting, a mere play in which I have a certain part to perform. We are to be friends throughout it all--actors on the stage. There must be no misunderstanding about this."

I had recovered my voice now, realizing all she meant, and anxious to reassure her.

"Certainly. There will be no mistake, Mrs. Bernard. That was why I hesitated to ask you, for fear you might misinterpret my purpose. You are the very woman to do this. I dreaded to have with me the kind Vail would have sent. I am delighted--truly I am, and nothing shall occur to cause you any regret."

"We go tonight?--I shall need clothing."

"Of course; that was what this money was advanced for, to outfit us. How much will you need?"

She thought a moment, a little line of perplexity between her eyes, finally naming a sum which surprised me.

"Not more than that?" I exclaimed. "Surely that is not enough."

"Oh, yes, it is," laughing. "There will be no dressing. All I need do is appear neat."

We sat there and talked it over, deciding exactly our course of action. At nine o'clock I left her, hunted up the nearest bank and got change for my bill. Then I gave her the amount asked, and we separated, to meet again late that afternoon at the depot. I felt no doubt as to her being there on time. My day was a busy one, as I had to visit my boarding house, buy needful clothing, and arrange for transportation. At the moment specified I called up Vail on the phone, and he responded instantly, the very tone of his voice evidencing the relief he felt at hearing from me.

"Began to think I had skipped with the thousand?" I asked. "Well, I have n't, for the other nine looks too good."

"You are going, then?"

"Sure; all packed, and transportation bought. Best of it is I 've found the right woman to go along with me.

"Good; I didn't know what to do about that--the one I had in mind is out of town. Who is she?"

"Oh, never mind her name; she is all right, a friend of mine."

"Not likely anyone I know. Where are you?"

I told him, and he agreed to send over certain papers to me by messenger. These arrived promptly, and I studied them carefully until nearly train time, getting all the facts firmly implanted in my mind. Then, my heart beating somewhat faster than usual, I took cab to the depot, more deeply interested I fear in again meeting Mrs. Bernard, than in the adventure itself. We met beneath the grim shadow of the train shed.