Dawn of the Morning Part 18

Dawn considered.

"Why, I don't really think she told me anything," she said at last, half apologetically, "except how to behave during the ceremony. I think it was my fault, I really do. She said I ought to go down and talk it over, but I said I didn't need to go, that I wanted to be by myself at the last. I suppose she thought I didn't care about the arrangements. I never thought I had anything to do with them, any way. I thought that was all fixed, like everything else."

There was a sad little droop to the corners of her red lips, which gave Charles's heart an unhappy twinge. The driver turned a suspicious eye toward them, and they sat silent for a while, Charles thinking it over, and being somehow depressed that she should feel so about their marriage. To her, of course, it must be somewhat of a forced thing, but to him it had been all joy until now when he was suddenly brought face to face with the situation as he thought he saw it.

Dawn was going over sadly all their bright beautiful day together, and thinking, wondering, how near it was to the end, and whether she would ever see this dear companion again. She treasured every moment of his company, even when they were silent together; every glance, every syllable, yes, every kiss and gentle touch of his hand; even while she dimly perceived (and chided herself) that this was not the right att.i.tude for a bride of a few hours to have toward a man who was not her husband. But to her it was like stolen suns.h.i.+ne to a lifetime prisoner.

She felt she must take it, as it would never pa.s.s her way again. All the same, her conscience was beginning to trouble her, for she was naturally a right-minded girl, and, in spite of the fact that her ideals of married life were not as some girls', she had her own ideas of what should be. She turned toward him suddenly:

"I want to tell you how much I thank you for this beautiful day," she said, her heart in her eyes. "It is the best day I ever had-I mean our part of it. I was afraid I might not have another chance to tell you."

The dusk was growing deeper now, and dim lights ahead showed that a town was not far away. Charles reached out his hand and took hers gently in his own, hiding them both under his coat on the seat between them. The driver was looking the other way, hunting for his big tin horn, wherewith to announce his approach somewhere, and had not seen.

"Dear! You dear!" Charles murmured softly in her ear. "But there'll be plenty of chances to tell me everything soon now."

"Oh, will there?" she said joyfully. "I was afraid there wouldn't be."

"Did you think we were going to spend our days in a coach?" he laughed.

Dawn's hand trembled in the big, comforting grasp, and longed to settle down and take strength from it; but she knew she ought to put a stop to this, and she sat shrinking and pondering how to draw away her hand without offending her kind friend, who, in spite of his frank, true eyes, seemed not to have a thought but that the course he was pursuing was perfectly right and proper. It all puzzled her, more and more as she felt the approach of the moment when she must meet her unwelcome bridegroom.

A long blast on the driver's horn sent a startled shock through her slender frame, and instantly Charles's grasp on the little, timid hand tightened, as if he would enfold her in his greater strength and soothe her fears. She was glad it was dark, for she was sure there were tears in her eyes; yet she dared not lift her other hand to wipe them away, lest he see her.

With a swirl and a lurch the coach turned in at an open gateway and drove furiously up to a wide farm-house on a hill behind a circle of elm trees. The driver jumped down and began to unfasten a trunk from behind. Dawn could not see whether it was her own or not, but she took heart from the fact that Charles sat still and steadily held her hand, and that other people were climbing out of the coach below, and talking to a man and woman who came out of the big hall door in a stream of light to greet them. This was not her new home yet, then. There were still a few moments more of grace before her doom should fall. Now she must know. It was her only chance. In a moment more the driver would be back beside them, and perhaps the next stop would end their ride.

She leaned over close to Charles and whispered in his ear: "Tell me quick before the driver comes back: will _he_ be there?" The tears were trembling on her lashes. She was glad she was not on the side of the coach next to the house.

"Will who be there, dear?" murmured Charles, marvelling at the sweetness of having her so close to him.

"Oh, don't you know?" she said desperately, as if it hurt her to speak the name. "Why-my-Mr. Winthrop-Mr. Harrington Winthrop."

It was a pitiful attempt to put into the name the dignity that her position as wife demanded. She was scarcely more than a little girl, and her situation was terrible to her.

Charles started and looked down at her. Was she still wanting to see the man who had sought to do her so terrible an injury, or was she dreading to see him? He looked at her and saw fear written in her eyes, and his heart was touched. However she might have felt toward Harrington before, of course now she dreaded having to meet him after what he had done. But whatever had put into her head the idea that he would be there? How strange of Mrs. Van Rensselaer not to have told her that Harrington had gone away on the train with his wife!

"No, he will not be there!" he said almost harshly, "I doubt if he is ever there again."

There was something in his tone that Dawn could not understand, but she must find out quickly what it all meant, though she was trembling now from head to foot, and scarcely knew what question to ask next. It was all so strange and mixed up.

"Then, where-where will I have to meet him?" she asked, grasping his arm with her free hand and watching his face as if her very life depended upon the answer.

Charles looked down at her, his whole soul in his eyes.

"Never, dear, never. I will guard you from that, at least."

"Oh, why!" cried Dawn, more than ever bewildered by his words.

"Why-but, how can you? Hasn't he the right? Wasn't I married to him this morning? n.o.body can keep us apart now, can they? The minister said, 'Till death do you part!'" A long, slow shudder pa.s.sed over her as she spoke, and though her words were low, lest some one hear, her tone was like the cry of one who had given up for lost.

Forgetting the people who were clattering joyous welcomes below, Charles put his arm close about her, as if he were s.h.i.+elding her from a present terrible danger. He looked into her face and spoke in low, firm tones:

"I don't just seem to understand you, dear, but you mustn't be so frightened. There isn't anything in the world to be afraid of. I will try to make everything just as you want it--"

"But how can you?" Dawn's breath came in short sobs. She was almost at the limit of her self-control. "Will he let you? Will it be right?"

"Dear, listen! I don't know what you mean by some of the things you have said. I'm afraid all the trouble has upset you. Perhaps you have a fever--"

"No! No!" said Dawn, almost impatiently, for she saw that the driver had landed the trunk on the piazza and was preparing to come back to the coach, and that some of the pa.s.sengers were climbing in again. There would be but a moment more.

"It is I that do not understand," she added, and her voice was very steady. She felt as if she must make her meaning plain now. "I was married to him this morning, and now he is gone away somewhere, and you say I need never see him again. He went away just after the ceremony.

They said his mother fainted and he took her away. I have not seen him since. What does it all mean? I do not understand. It is like some awful dream."

Charles's heart sank in horror as he listened to her words. Had she lost her mind, or, more awful yet, had she in some mysterious way been married to him without knowing it? The latter seemed almost incredible, yet if it were true, what sorrow might it not mean to them both! Poor child! He must be very gentle with her, whatever were the case. And meantime the driver's foot was upon the wheel.

Charles leaned over as if to tuck the linen robe about her to protect her from the dust, and whispered:

"You were not married to him at all. Don't you remember?"

"Do you mean I was not married, then? But I heard the minister say the words, 'I p.r.o.nounce you husband and wife, and what G.o.d hath joined--'"

Dawn shuddered again. "I heard it. I didn't look up, but I heard it.

You needn't be afraid to tell me the truth. I will not cry or anything."

The driver plumped down on the seat with a loud laugh at some joke the old farmer was getting off, and vowed he would be late if they kept him any longer, that he must go around by Applebee's and Deacon Forsythe's yet, and it was almost dark. Then with another hearty laugh he chirruped to his horses, and they strained and started, and with a lurch and a swirl of the coach they were flying down the stony road to the gate again, and there was no more opportunity to talk unheard.

Dawn braced herself to endure the awful uncertainty that her question had put into tangible form, and Charles, as he took hold of the little, trembling hand once more with a rea.s.suring pressure, sought in his mind for something to say which should calm her fears and at the same time not enlighten the driver as to their subject of conversation.

"Don't worry," he said in a tone that tried to be light and gay. "I'll explain it all as soon as we get home. Meantime, do you want to be told where we are?" and he launched into a voluble description of the people who dwelt along the road.

Dawn understood, and kept silent except for a monosyllable now and then, to keep up appearances before the driver, and presently the coach halted again before the gate of another farm-house, where the gleaming candles from the many-paned windows testified to the comfort of the inhabitants.

To their relief, the driver jumped down again to deliver a big package, and they had another moment to talk.

"Wasn't I married at all, then? Tell me quick, please," she pleaded, the minute the driver had left them.

"Yes, but not to Harrington," he said gravely. He had not yet decided how he ought to tell her or whether he had not better wait until they were at home, lest it make her ill. It seemed so strange for her to talk in this way. He paused an instant, and looked keenly into her face, but the light from the coach lantern did not s.h.i.+ne in the right way for him to see her clearly, and it was dark now. He did not see the wave of relief that swept over her anxious face.

"Oh!" she gasped, as if a great burden had suddenly been lifted from her and she could breathe the free air again. "Oh!" And for a minute she could think of nothing else save that she was free from the man she had come to dread almost more than death. How it came about, or what else might have happened, must stand in abeyance until she could take in this great, soul-reviving truth. She was not married to Harrington Winthrop!

Charles waited an instant, and then, seeing that the driver would soon be back, and that Dawn was not going to ask a question to help him on, he spoke again.

"Don't you remember, Dawn"-his voice lingered over the name, the first time he had used it, and it went through her heart with a wonderful thrill-"don't you remember that you and I were married this morning?"

"Oh, was it you?"

Dawn's face shone up at him out of the darkness, but he dared not interpret the look. The driver suddenly jumped up on the seat and started the horses on again, but Dawn clasped her hands close about his arm and clung to him in the darkness, her whole soul surging with gladness.

He held her arm close to him within his own, but his heart was beating anxiously to know what effect this would have upon her, and whether she remembered now. At last she ventured the question-for how could the driver attach any significance to such simple words:

"Are you sure?"

"Sure!" he answered gravely, and added as if he could not keep the words back: "Are you glad or sorry?"