The Best Man (21 page)

“I am afraid I shall always be suspicious of handy closed carriages after this experience. I certainly have reason to be. The door was no sooner closed on me than the driver began to race like mad through the streets. I didn’t think much of it at first until he had been going some time, fully long enough to reach East Liberty, and the horse was still rushing like a locomotive. Then I saw that we were in a lonely district of the city that seemed unfamiliar. That alarmed me and I tapped on the window and called to the driver. He paid no attention. Then I found the doors were fastened shut, and the windows plugged so they wouldn’t open.

“I discovered that an armed man rode beside the driver. I managed to get one of the doors open after a good deal of work, and escaped when we stopped for a freight train to pass; but I’m satisfied that I was being kidnapped and if I hadn’t got away just when I did you would never have heard of me again or the message either. I finally managed to reach East Liberty Station and jumped on the first train that came in, but I caught a glimpse of Balder stretching his neck over the crowd. He must have seen me and had Hale and Burke on the watch when I got here. They just missed me by a half second. They went over to the restaurant – didn’t expect me on a special, but I escaped them, and I’m mighty glad to get that little paper into your possession and out of mine. It’s rather a long story to tell the whole, but I think you have the main facts.”

There was a suspicious glitter in the keen eyes of the kind old chief as he put his hand and grasped Gordon’s in a hearty shake; but all he said was:

“And you are all worn out – I’ll guarantee you didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Well, no,” said Gordon; “I had to sit up in a day-coach vigorously."

 The chief was showing by his gruff attitude that he was deeply affected. “Well, young man, this won’t be forgotten by the Department. Now you go home and take a good sleep. Take the whole day off if you wish, and then come down tomorrow morning and tell me all about it. Isn’t there anything more I need to know at once that justice may be done?”

“I believe not,” said Gordon, with a sigh of relief. “There’s a list of the men who were at dinner with me. I wrote them down from memory last night when I couldn’t sleep. I also wrote a few scraps of conversation, which will show you just how deep the plot had gone. If I had not read the message and known its import, I should not have understood what they were talking about.”

“H-m! Yes. If there had been more time before you started I might have told you all about it. Still it seemed desirable that you should appear as much at your ease as possible. I thought this would be best accomplished by your knowing nothing of the import of the writing when you first met the people.”

“I suppose it was as well I did not know any more than I did. You are a great chief, sir! I was deeply impressed anew with the fact as I saw how wonderfully you had planned for every possible emergency. It was simple great, sir.”

“Pooh! Pooh! Get you home and to bed,” said the old chief quite brusquely.

He touched a bell and a man appeared.

“Jessup, is the coast clear?” he asked.

“Yessah,” declared the darky. “Dey have jest hed a couple o’ shots in de pahk, an’ now dey tuk de villains off to der p’lice station. De officers is out der waitin’ to ’scort de gemman.”

“Get home with you, Gordon, and don’t come to the office till ten in the morning. Then come straight to my private room.”

Gordon thanked him, and left the room preceded by the gray-haired servant. He was surprised to find the policemen outside, and wondered still more that they seemed to be going one in front and the other behind him as he rode along. He was greatly relieved that he had not been called upon to give the whole story. His heart was filled with anxiety now to get back to the girl, and tell her everything, and yet he dreaded it more than anything he had ever had to face in all his life. He sat back on cushions, and, covering his face with his hands, tried to think how he should begin, but he could see nothing but her sweet eyes filled with tears, think of beautiful morning they had spent together in the little town of Milton. Beautiful Milton. Should he ever see it again?

Celia at her window grew more and more nervous as an hour and then another half hour slipped slowly away, and still he did not come. Then two mounted policemen rode rapidly down the street following an automobile, in which sat the man for whom she waited.

She had no eyes for the men who had been lurking across the way, and when she thought to look for them again she saw them running in the opposite direction as fast as they could go, making wild gestures for a car to stop for them.

She stood by the window and saw Gordon get out of the car, and disappear into the building below, saw the car wheel and curve away and the mounted police take up their stand on either corner; heard the clang of elevator as it started up, and the clash of its door as it stopped at that floor; heard steps coming on toward the door, and the key in the latch. Then he turned and looked at him, her two hands clasped before her, and her two eyes yearning, glad and fearful all at once.

“Oh, I have been so frightened about you! I am so glad you have come!” she said, and caught her voice in a sob as she took one little step toward him.

He threw his hat upon the floor, wherever it might land, and went to meet her, a great light glowing in his tired eyes, his arms outstretched to hers.

“And did you care?” he asked in a voice of almost awe. “Dear, did you care what became of me?”

“Oh yes, I cared! I could not help it.” There was a real sob in her voice now, though her eyes were shining.

His arms went around her hungrily, as if he would draw her to him in spite of everything; yet he kept them so encircling, without touching her, like a benediction that would enwrap the very soul of his beloved. Looking down into her face, he breathed softly:

“Oh, my dear, it seems as if I must hold you close and kiss you!”

She looked up with bated breath, and thought she understood. Then, with a lovely gesture of surrender, she whispered, “I can trust you.” Her lashes were drooping now over her eyes.

“Not until you know all,” he said, and put her gently from him into the great arm-chair, with a look of reverence and self-abnegation she felt she never would forget.

“Then, tell me quickly,” she said, a swift fear making her weak from head to foot. She laid her hand across her heart, as if to help steady its beating.

He wheeled forward the leather couch opposite her chair, and sat down, her head drooping, his eyes down. He dreaded to begin.

She waited for the revelation, her eyes upon his bowed head.

Finally he lifted his eyes and saw her look, and a tender light came into his face.

“It is a strange story,” he said. “I don’t know what you will think of me after it is told, but I want you to know that, blundering, stupid, even criminal, though you may think me, I would sooner die this minute than cause you one more breath of suffering.”

Her eyes lit up with a wonderful light, and the ready tears sprang into them, tears that sparkled through the sunshine of a great joy that illumined her whole face.

“Please go on,” she said softly, and added very gently, “I believe you.”

But even with those words in his ears the beginning was not easy. Gordon drew a deep breath and launched forth.

“I am not the man you think,” he said, and looked at her to see how she would take it, “My name is not George Hayne. My name is Cyril Gordon.”

As one might launch an arrow at a beloved victim and long that it may not strike the mark, so he sent his truth home to her understanding, and waited in breathless silence, hoping against hope that this might not turn her against him.

“Oh!” she breathed softly, as if some puzzle were solving itself. “Oh!-” this time not altogether in surprise, nor as if further the fact were displeasing. She looked at him expectantly for further revelation, and he plunged into his story headlong.

“I’m a member of the Secret Service, - headquarters here in Washington, - and day before yesterday I was sent to New York on an important errand. A message of great import written in a private code had been stolen from one of our men. I was sent to get it before they could decipher it. The message involved matters of tremendous significance that I was ordered to go under an assumed name, and on no account to let anyone know of my mission. My orders were to get the message, and let nothing hinder me in bringing it with all haste to Washington. I went with the full understanding that I might even be called upon to risk my life.”

He looked up. The girl sat wide-eyed, with hands clasped together at her throat.

He hurried on, not to cause her any needless anxiety.

“I won’t weary you with details. There were a good many annoying hindrances on the way, which served to make me nervous, but I carried out the program laid down by my chief, and succeeded in getting possession of the message and making my escape from the house of the man who had stolen it. As I closed the door behind me, knowing that it could be a matter of a few seconds at longest before six furious men would be on my track, who would stop at nothing to get back what I had taken from them, I saw a carriage man he awaited, and I lost no time in taking advantage of his mistake. I jumped in, telling him to drive as fast as he could. I intended to give him further directions, but he had evidently had them from another quarter, and I thought I could call to him as soon as we were out of the dangerous neighborhood. To add to my situation I soon became sure that an automobile and a motor-cycle were following me. I recognized one of the men in the car as the man who sat opposite to me at the table a few minutes before. My coach-man drove like mad, while I hurried to secure the message so that if I were caught it would not be found, and to put on a slight disguise – some eyebrows and things the chief had given me. Before I knew where I was, the carriage had stopped before a building. At first I thought it was a prison – and the car and motor-cycle came to a halt just behind me. I felt that I was pretty well trapped.”

The girl gave a low moan, and Gordon, not daring to look up, hurried on with his story.

“There isn’t much more to tell that you do not already know. I soon discovered the building was a church, not a prison. What happened afterward was the result of my extreme perturbance of mind, I suppose. I cannot account for my stupidity and subsequent cowardice in any other way. Neither was it possible for me to explain matters satisfactorily at any time during the whole mix-up, on account of the trust which I carried, and which I could on no account reveal even in confidence, or put in jeopardy in the slightest degree. Naturally at first my commission and how to get safely through it all was the only thing of importance to me. If you keep this in mind perhaps you will be able to judge me less harshly. My only thought when the carriage came to a halt was how to escape from those two pursuers, and so that ordinary matters which at another time would have been at once clear to me, meant nothing at all. You see, the instant that carriage came to a standstill someone threw open the door, and I heard a voice call ‘Where is the best man?’ Then another voice said, ‘Here he is!’ I took it that they wasn’t when I came into the light. There wasn’t any chance to slip away, or I should have done so, and vanished in the dark, but everybody surrounded me, and seemed to think I was all right. The two men who had followed were close behind eyeing me keenly. I’m satisfied that they were to blame for that wild ride we took in Pittsburgh! I soon saw by the remarks that the man I was supposed to be had been away from this country for ten years, and of course then they would not be very critical. I tried twice to explain that there was a mistake, but both times they misunderstood me and thought I was saying I couldn’t go in the procession because I hadn’t practiced. I don’t just know how I came to be in such a dreadful mess. It would seem as if ought to have been a very easy thing to say I had got into the wrong carriage and they must excuse me, that I wasn’t their man, but, you see, they gave me no time to think nor to speak. They just turned me over from one man to another and took everything for granted, and I, finding that I would have to break loose and flee before their eyes if I wished to escape, reflected that there would be no harm in marching down the aisle as best man in a delayed wedding, if that was all there was to do. I could disappear as soon as the ceremony was over, and no one would be the wiser. The real best man would probably turn up and then they might wonder as they pleased for I would be far away and perhaps this was as good a place as any in which to hide for half an hour until my pursuers were baffled and well on their way seeking elsewhere for me. I can see now that I made a grave mistake in allowing even so much deception, but I did not see any harm in then, and they all seemed in great distress for the ceremony to go forward. Bear in mind also that I was at that time entirely taken up with the importance of hiding my message until I could take it safely to my chief. Nothing else seemed to matter much. If the real best man was late to the wedding and they were willing to use me in his place what harm could come from it? He certainly deserved it for being late and if he came in during the ceremony he would think some one else had been put in his place. They introduced me to your brother – Jefferson. I thought he was the bridegroom, and I thought so until they laid your hand in mine!”

“Oh!” she moaned, and the little hand went to help its mate cover her face.

“I knew it!” he said bitterly. “I knew you would feel just that way as soon as you knew. I don’t blame you. I deserve it! I was a fool, a villain, a dumb brute – whatever you have a mind to call me! You can’t begin to understand how I have suffered for you since this happened, and how I have blamed myself.”

He got up suddenly and strode over to the window, frowning down into the sunlit street, and wondering how it was that everybody seemed to be going on in exactly the same hurry as ever, when for him life had suddenly come to a standstill.