Jolly Sally Pendleton: or, the Wife Who Was Not a Wife. Libbey Laura Jean
was with a shudder that he awoke and found the sunshine which heralded another day stealing into his narrow little room.
Bernardine had been stirring about for some time, and at length the savory odor of the frugal breakfast she was preparing reached him, and at that moment she called him.
When he made his appearance she saw at a glance that he must have passed a sleepless night. He had no appetite, and pushed away the plate with his food untouched, despite Bernardine's earnest efforts to induce him to eat something.
He watched her deft fingers in silence as she cleared the table at length, washed and dried the dishes and put them away, and tidied the little room.
"Now, father," she said, at length, "the sun is shining now, and I will give you half an hour of my time to listen to the story you have to tell me. Don't look so distressed about it, dear; no matter what it is, I will utter no word of complaint, you shall hear no bitter words from my lips, only words of love, trust and comfort."
"Tell me that again, Bernardine," he cried; "say it over again. Those words are like the dew of Heaven to my feverish soul."
She uttered the words again, with her soft white arms twined lovingly around his neck, and she held them there until he came to the end of his wretched story.
"Bernardine," he began, softly, with a pitiful huskiness in his voice, "I rely on your promise. You have given me your word, and I know you will never break it. Don't look at me. Let me turn my face away from the sight of the horror in your eyes as you listen. There, that is right; let my poor whirling head rest on your strong young shoulder.
"It happened only a few weeks ago, Bernardine," he continued, brokenly, "this tragedy which has wrecked my life. One night – ah! how well I remember it – even while I lie dying, it will stand out dark and horrible from the rest of my life – I – I could not withstand the craving for drink which took possession of me, and after you slept, I stole softly from my couch and out of the house.
"The few dimes I had in my pocket soon went where so many dollars of my – yes, even your humble earnings have gone before – in the coffers of the rum-shop.
"The liquor I drank seemed to fire my brain as it had never been fired before. I remember that I went to that place around the corner – the place that you and Doctor Gardiner saw them throw me out of that night you thought they had crippled me for life.
"The man who keeps the place saw me coming in, and made a dash at me. Then a terrible fight took place between us, and a crowd gathered, foremost among whom I dimly saw the face of Jasper Wilde outlined amidst the jeering throng.
"To hasten the telling of an unpleasant tale, I will say he ejected me, the while hurling the most insulting epithets at me. Then he spoke of you, Bernardine, and – and turning upon him with the ferocity of an enraged lion, I swore that I would kill him on sight.
"'Beware! take care,' laughed Jasper Wilde, turning to my enemy; 'the old basket-maker always keeps his word. You are in danger, my boy.'
"At this the crowd jeered. I hurried away. I never remembered how far I walked to still the throbbing of my heart and cool the fever in my veins.
"At length I turned my steps toward home. How far I had traversed in the darkness I did not take note of; but as I was hurrying along, I heard a loud cry for help. I ran around the corner from which it seemed to proceed, and then I fell headlong across the body of a man lying prone upon the pavement.
"I drew a box of matches from my pocket, and hastily struck one. Yes, it was a man dying with a wound in his breast, made from a clasp-knife, which still stuck in it.
"In horror I snatched the knife away; and as I did so, the blood from the wound spurted up into my face and covered my clothes. In that instant I made the awful discovery that the knife was my own. I must have lost it from my pocket during my encounter with my enemy, who kept the wine-room.
"By the flickering light of the half-burned match, which I held down to the man's face, I saw – oh, God! how shall I tell it? – I saw that the man who had been murdered with my knife was the man whom I had sworn before the crowd I would kill on sight.
"As I made this startling discovery, a man laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and Jasper Wilde's voice, with a demoniac ring, cried in my horrified ears:
"'I see you have kept your word, David Moore! You have murdered your enemy!'
"All in vain I protested my innocence. He only laughed at me, jeered at my agony with diabolical glee.
"'You will be hanged,' he said. 'Of course, you realize that, David Moore.'
"'I would not care for my life – what became of me – if it were not for Bernardine!' I moaned, wildly.
"'Yes, it is a pity for Bernardine,' he made answer. 'I am sorry for you on her account. How sad it will be to see you torn away from her, and she all alone in the world! Moore,' he hissed, close to my ear, 'for her sake, and upon one condition, I will save you from the gallows. No one but me has seen you bending over the murdered man with that knife in your hand. If I keep silent, no one can prove the crime was done by you. Do you comprehend – do you realize of what vital interest that which I am saying is to you?'
"'Yes,' I answered in a choked, awful voice. 'But the condition! What have I, a poor, penniless basket-maker, even at this moment owing you money – what have I which you, the son of a rich father, would stoop to accept?' I cried in the utmost despair. He stooped nearer, and whispered in my ear:
"'You have a treasure which I long to possess. Give me Bernardine. I – I will marry the girl, and will forever hold my peace. It will save you from prison. Think and act quickly, man. You can make the girl accept me if she should desire to refuse.'
"I heard the whistle of an advancing policeman coming leisurely along his beat. Another moment and he would turn the corner where I stood almost paralyzed.
"'Speak, man!' cried Jasper Wilde. 'Am I to save you, or call the officer to arrest you? Am I to get Bernardine, or not?'
"Oh, child! forgive me – pity me! Life to an old man even like me is sweet. I could almost feel the rope of the gallows tightening about my poor old throat, and I – oh, God, pity me – I promised him, Bernardine.
"'Save me, and Bernardine shall marry you!' I cried; 'only save me! Don't call the police, for the love of Heaven!'
"'Then fly!' he cried, shrilly. 'Take the knife with you; go as quickly as you can to my rooms, back of my place, and there I will give you something to wear until you can get home!'
"I made my way to his place, as he directed. He was there before me. He took the blood-stained clothes and knife from me, remarking, grimly:
"'I shall keep these, the evidences of your guilt, until you succeed in making Bernardine my wife. If she refuses, I shall need them.'
"Oh, Bernardine, from that hour to this I have lived a perfect hell on earth. I am as innocent of that crime as a babe; but everything is against me. Jasper Wilde has proof enough to send your poor, wretched old father to the gallows, if you refuse to marry him. Oh, Bernardine! I dare not lift my head and look up into your dear young face. Speak to me, child, and let me know the worst. This gnawing at my soul is intolerable – I can not bear it and live!"
But the lips of the hapless girl whose arms were twined about his neck were mute and cold as marble.
"Won't you speak to me, Bernardine?" he wailed out, sharply. "Your silence is more than I can bear. For God's sake, speak!"
CHAPTER XIV
Bernardine Moore slowly untwined her white arms from about her father's neck, and turned her white, anguished face toward him, and the awful despair that lay in the dark eyes that met his was more piteous than any words could have been.
"Have I broken your heart, Bernardine?" he cried out. "Oh, my child, my beautiful Bernardine, have I ruined your life by that fatal promise?"
She tried to speak, but no words fell from her white lips; it seemed to her that she would never