The Master of the Ceremonies Part 86

"May!" cried Claire reproachfully.

"So I am. Why, he'll come and fetch me away from my miserable tyrant, and we can have little pet blossom away from Fisherman d.i.c.k's, and take a cottage somewhere, and then I can sing and play to baby, while dear old Louis reads the Italian poets to me, and goes on with his painting."

A piteous sigh escaped from Claire Denville's lips as she fervently breathed in wild appeal:

"My G.o.d, help me!" And then--"It is too hard--too hard. What shall I do?"

A change came over the scene. The picture May Burnett had painted dissolved in the thin air, and she turned quickly upon her sister.

"How do you know this, Claire? Has Louis written to you?"

"No. He is here."

"Here! In Saltinville?"

"Yes, here in Saltinville. He would have been at this house, only I prevailed upon him to stay till I had seen you--to prepare you."

"Oh, Claire! Does he know I am married?"

"No; he believes you have been as faithful to him as he to you."

"Oh!"

It was a wild cry; and a look of frightened horror came over the pretty baby face, as its owner caught Claire round the waist, and clung to her.

"Claire, Claire!" she cried. "Save me! What shall I do? Louis is an Italian, and he is all love and pa.s.sion and jealousy. I dare not see him. He would kill me, if he knew. What shall I do? What can I do?

Oh, this is terrible, Claire!" she cried. "Claire!" and she shook her sister pa.s.sionately. "Why don't you speak? What shall I do?"

Claire remained silent.

"Why don't you speak, I say?" cried May with childish petulance.

"I am praying for help and guidance, sister, for I do not know."

May let herself sink down upon the carpet with her hands clasped, as she gazed straight at her sister, looking to her for advice and help, while Claire remained with her eyes fixed, deeply pondering upon their terrible position.

"I can only think of one thing," she said at last. "I must see Louis Gravani, and tell him all."

"No, no; I tell you he will kill me."

"He loves you, May; and I must appeal to him to act like a gentleman in this terrible strait."

"Don't I tell you that he is a pa.s.sionate Italian, and that he would kill me. He always used to say that he felt as if he could stab anybody who came between us. Oh, Claire, what shall I do? My poor life's full of miserable troubles. I wish I were dead."

"Hush, May, and try and help me, instead of acting in this childish way."

"There, now you turn against me."

"No, no, my poor sister. I want to help you, and give you strength."

"Then you will help me, Claire?"

"Help you!" said Claire reproachfully. "Did I spare my poor reputation for your sake?"

"Oh, don't talk of that now, only tell me, what shall I do?"

"You must come with me."

"With you, dear? Where?"

"Home, to your father's roof; and we must tell him all. He will protect you."

"Come--home--tell poor papa? No--no--no, I cannot--I dare not."

"You must, May. It were a shame and disgrace to stay here, now that you know your husband is alive."

"My first husband, Claire dear," said May pitifully.

"Oh, hush, May; you'll drive me mad. There, go and dress yourself, and come home."

"I will not--I daren't," cried May; "and, besides, this is my home."

"And Louis? Am I to tell him where you are?"

"No, no. I tell you he would kill me. I must have time to think.

Didn't you tell me he was going to wait, Claire? Look here, I dare not see him. No, everything is over between us. You must see him, dear."

"See him?" said Claire.

"Yes, dear, yes. Oh, Claire, Claire!" she cried wildly, going upon her knees to her sister, "pray--pray, save me. Tell Louis I am not married to Frank. Tell him he must go away, and not come back till I write to him."

"May, how can you be so childish?" cried Claire piteously.

"I am not childish. This is not childish. I know--I know--tell him this, and he will go away."

"Tell him this?"

"Yes, yes; don't you understand? He is very stupid; tell him I am dead."

"May!"

"Stop a moment; you said he was going to wait."

"Till I can give him news of you."

"Yes; then you must keep him quiet for a day or two, till I have had time to think."

"There is no time."