Dangerous Ground Part 67

"That I consent to marry you."

"Wal," says Franz, turning a facetious look upon Mamma, and giving her arm a gentle shake; "the old un may have trifled with the truth, here and there, but she's right in the main. How did the proposition strike ye?"

Leslie turns from him and fixes her gaze upon the old woman.

"And this," she says, "is the man you would mate me with! Woman, you have overreached yourself. Believing, or fearing, myself to be _your_ child, I might have been driven to any act of desperation. You have lifted that burden of horror from off my heart. I am _not_ your child!

No blood of yours poisons my veins! Do you think in the moment when I find the taint removed, I would doubly defile myself by taking the step you have proposed? Never! Your power over me is gone!"

"Do ye mean," queries Franz quite coolly, "that you won't take up with the old woman's bargain?"

"She _has_ done it!" cries Mamma fiercely. "She's given her promise!"

"And I now retract it!"

"What!" Mamma suddenly wrenches herself free and springs toward Leslie.

"You won't marry Franz?"

"Never! The fear which has made me a coward is gone. I shall go back to my own. I will tell my story far and wide. I feared nothing so much as the shame of being pointed out as the child of such parents. You will not dare repeat that imposture; I defy you. As for little Daisy, I will find her; I will punish you--"

"You will find her!" Mamma's voice is horrible in its hoa.r.s.e rage. "Now mark my words: You will _never_ find her. She will never see daylight again. As for _you_, you will marry Franz Francoise to-morrow, or you will go out of this place between two officers, arrested as the murderess of Josef Siebel!"

It is more than she can bear. The strength born of her strong excitement deserts her. Mamma's eyes burn into her own; she feels her hot, baleful breath upon her cheek; hears the horrible words hissed so close to her ear; and with a low moan falls forward, to be caught in the arms of Franz Francoise, where she lies pallid and senseless.

"Git out!" says Franz, as he lifts her and turns toward Mamma. "You've done it now, you old cat. Let me lay her down."

He carries Leslie to the bed, and places her upon it so gently that Mamma sneers and glares upon him scornfully.

"Ye're a fool, Franz Francoise."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Now mark my words: You will never find her. She will never see daylight again."--page 354.]

"Shet up, you! Ye've got somethin' to do besides talk. D'ye mean to have her die on our hands?"

"'Twon't matter much, it seems."

"I tell ye 'twill matter. Do ye think this thing's settled? Not much.

We're goin' ter bring her to terms yet, but she's got ter be alive first."

She turns upon him a look in which anger and admiration are curiously mingled.

"'Tain't no use, Franzy; that gal won't give in now."

"I tell ye she will. You've tried your hand; now I'll try mine. Bring the girl out o' this faint, an' I'll manage her. Do what ye can, then git yer doctor. Ye'd better not have him come here ef ye kin manage without him; but go see him, git what she needs, an'," with a significant wink, "ye might say that she don't rest well and git a few sleepin' powders."

"Franz," chuckles Mamma, beginning her work of restoration with bustling activity, "ye ought to be a general. I'm proud of ye."

CHAPTER XLIX.

A WELCOME PRESCRIPTION.

Savage Mamma Francoise was not an unskillful nurse, and Leslie was soon restored to consciousness. But not to strength; the little that she had gained was spent by that long interview, with all its attendant conflicting emotions, and Leslie lay, strengthless once more, at the mercy of her enemies.

After much thinking, Mamma had decided that Franz had offered sound advice, and having exhausted her own resources, she set out to consult Doctor Bayless.

Her visit was in every way satisfactory. Doctor Bayless manifested no undue curiosity; seemed to comprehend the case as Mamma put it; prepared the necessary remedies, and spoke encouragingly of the patient.

"These relapses occur often after fevers," he said; "the result of too much ambition. You understand about the drops, yes? These powders you will administer properly; not too often, remember. Careful nursing will do the rest. Ah, good-day."

"Ye needn't be afraid to take yer medicine," said Mamma to her patient, coming to the bedside with a dose of the aforesaid "drops." "'Tain't no part of my plans to let ye die. I intend to nurse ye through, but I tell ye plain that when ye're better ye'll have to settle this business with Franzy. When ye're on yer feet agin, I'm goin' to wash my hands of ye.

But ye may not find Franz so easily got rid of, mind that."

Realizing her helplessness, Leslie swallowed the drops and then lay back, pale and panting, upon her pillow. As the moments pa.s.sed, she could feel the liquid coursing its way through her veins; her nerves ceased to quiver, a strange calm crept over her, her pulses throbbed quite steadily. She was very weak, but found herself able to think clearly.

Half an hour later, Doctor Bayless appeared upon the Francoise threshold, a small vial in his hand, a look of anxiety upon his countenance.

He pushed his way into the room, in spite of the less than half opened door, and Mamma's lukewarm welcome. He seemed to notice neither. Still less did he concern himself with Papa and Franz, partaking of luncheon in the opposite corner of the room.

He addressed Mamma almost breathlessly.

Had the drops been administered?

Mamma replied in the affirmative.

Then he must see the patient at once. There had been a dangerous mistake. By some inadvertence he had exchanged two similar vials; he had given Mamma the wrong medicine. The result _might_ prove fatal.

It was no time for parley or hesitation. Mamma promptly led the way to the inner room.

As Leslie greeted her visitor with a look of inquiry, Doctor Bayless, standing by the bedside, with his back to Mamma, put a warning forefinger upon his lips, his eyes meeting Leslie's with a glance full of meaning.

"Keep perfectly quiet, young woman," he said in his best professional tone. And as Mamma presented a chair, he seated himself close beside the bed and bent over his patient, seemingly intent upon her symptoms.

Presently he turned toward Mamma.

"I must have warm water; prepare it at once." Then rising, he followed Mamma to the door, saying in a low tone: "Your patient must have perfect quiet; let there be no loud noise about the house. Now the water, if you please, and make haste."

He turned and went back to the bedside, seated himself as before, and taking one of the patient's hands, seemed intently marking every pulse-beat. A look of deep concern rested upon his face; and Mamma closed the door softly and went about her task.

"Old un," began Franz, "ye're gittin' careless--"

"s.h.!.+" whispered Mamma; "no noise."

But Franz, with a crafty leer, left his place at the table and tiptoed to the door, where he crouched, applying alternately his eye and his ear to the keyhole, while Mamma busied herself at the fire.