The Best Man (7 page)

Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else to do, but his countenance grew blank. Was there, then, to be no escape? Must he actually take another man’s bride with him in order to get away? And how was he to get away with her? Where was the real bridegroom and why did he not appear upon that scene? And yet what complications that might bring up. He began to look wildly about for a chance to flee at once, for how could he possibly run away with a bride on his hands? If only someone were going with them to the station he could slip away with a clear conscience, leaving her in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill and distressed was out of the question. He had rid himself of a lonely dog and a suffering child, though it gave him anguish to do the deed, but leave this lonely woman for whom he at least appeared to have become responsible, he could not, until he was sure she would come to no harm through him.

“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”

It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for an instant since it began, but had chimed its changes through music, ceremony, prayer and reception without interruption. It acted like a goad upon his conscience now. He must do something that would set him free to go back to Washington. An inspiration came to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with us?” he asked the young man. “I’m sure your sister would like to have you.”

The boy’s face lit up joyfully.

“Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully, and – if it’s all the same to you, I wish Mother could go too. It’s the first time Celia and she were ever separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have to say good-by with the house full of folks this way. But she doesn’t expect it of course, and really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip -”

“There will be plenty of time for us,” said the compulsory bridegroom graciously, and felt as if he had perjured himself. It was not his nature to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind.

“I shall be glad to have you both come,” he added earnestly. “I really want you. Tell your mother.”

The boy grasped his hand impulsively:

“I said,” said he, “you’re all right! I don’t mind confessing that I’ve hated the very thought of you for a whole three months, ever since Celia told us she had promised to marry you. You see, I never really knew you when I was a little chap, but I didn’t used to like you. I took an awful scunner to you for some reason. I suppose kids often take irrational dislikes like that. But ever since I’ve laid eyes on you to-night, I’ve liked you all the way through. I like your eyes. It isn’t a bit as I thought I remembered you. I used to think your eyes had a sort of deceitful look. Awful to tell you, isn’t it? But I felt as if I wanted to have it off my conscience, for I see now you’re nothing of the kind. You’ve got the honestest eyes I ever saw on a man, and I’d take my last cent that you wouldn’t cheat a church mouse. You’re true as steel, and I’m mighty glad you’re my brother-in-law. I know you’ll be good to Celia.”

The slow color mounted under his disguise until it reached Gordon’s burnished brown hair. His eyes were honest eyes. They had always been so – until to-day. Into what a world of deceit he had entered! How he would like to make a clean breast of it all to this nice, frank boy; but he must not! for there was his trust! For an instant he was on the point of trying to explain that he was not the true bridegroom, and getting young Jefferson to help him to set matters right, but an influx of newly arrived guests broke in upon their privacy, and he could only press the boy’s hand and say in embarrassed tones:

“Thank you! I shall try to be worthy of your good opinion hereafter!”

It was over at least, and the bride slipped from his side to prepare for the journey. He looked hastily around, feeling that his very first opportunity had come for making an escape. If an open window had presented itself, he would have vaulted through, trusting to luck and his heels to get away, but there was no window, and every door was blocked by staring, admiring, smirking people. He bethought himself of the fire escape where waited his hat and coat, and wondered if he could find it.

With smiling apologies, he broke away from those around him, murmuring something about being needed, and worked his way firmly but steadily toward the stairs and thence the back halls. Coming at last upon an open window, he slipped through, his heart beating wildly. He thought for a second that he was there ahead of the others; but a dark form loomed ahead and he perceived some one coming up from outside. Another second, and he saw it was his newly acquired brother-in-law.

“Say, this is great!” was his greeting. “How did you managed to find your way up alone? I was just coming down after you. I wanted to leave you there till the last minute so no one would suspect, but now you are here we can hustle off at once. I just took Mother and Celia down. It was pretty stiff for Mother to climb down, for she was a little bit afraid, but she was game all right, and she was so pleased to go. They’re waiting for us down there in the court. Now I’ll pull down this window, so no one will suspect us and follow. That’s all right now, come on! You go ahead. Just hold on to the railing and go slow. I’ll keep close to you. I know the way in my sleep. I’ve played fire here many a year, and could climb down in my sleep.”

Gordon found himself wishing that this delightful brother-in-law were really his. There was evidently to be no opportunity of escape here. He meditated making a dash and getting away in the dark when they should reach the foot of the stairs; much as he hated to leave that way, he felt he must do so if there was any chance for him at all; but when they reached the ground he saw that was hopeless. The car that was to take them to the station was drawn up close to the spot, and the chauffeur stood beside it.

“Your mother says fer you to hurry, Mister Jefferson,” he called in a sepulchral tone. “They’re coming out around the block to watch. Get in as quick as you can.”

The burly chauffeur stood below Gordon, helped him to alight on his feet from the fire-escape, and hustled him into the darkness of conveyance.

They were very quiet until they had left in the dark court and were speeding away down the avenue. Then the bride’s mother laid two gentle hands upon Gordon’s leaning across from her seat to do so, and said:

“My son, I shall never forget this of you, never! It was dear of you to give me this last few minutes with my darling!”

Gordon, deeply touched and much put to it for words, mumbled something about being very glad to have her, and Jefferson relieved the situation by pouring forth a volume of information and questions, fortunately not pausing long enough to have the latter answered. The bride sat with one hand clasped in her mother’s, and said not a word. Gordon was haunted by the thought of tears in her eyes.

There was little opportunity for thinking, but Gordon made a hasty plan. He decided to get his party all out to the train and then remember his suitcase, which he had left checked in the station. Jefferson would probably insist upon going for it but he would insist more strenuously that the brother and sister would want to have this last minute together. Then he could get away in the crowd and disappear, coming later for his suit-case perhaps, or sending a porter from his own train for it. The only drawback to this arrangement was that it seemed a dishonorable way to leave these people who would in the nature of things be left in a most trying position by his disappearance, especially the sad little bride. But it could not be helped, and his staying would only complicate things still further, for he would have to explain who he was, and that was practically impossible on account of his commission. It would not do to run risks with himself until his mission was accomplished and his message delivered. After that he could confess and make whatever reparation a man in his strange position could render.

The plan worked very well. The brother of course eagerly urged that he be allowed to go back for the suit-case, but Gordon, with well-feigned thoughtfulness, said in a low tone:

“Your sister will want you for a minute all to herself.”

A tender look came into the boy’s eyes, and he turned back smiling to the stateroom where his mother and sister were having a wordless farewell. Gordon jumped from the train and sprinted down the platform, feeling meaner than he ever remembered to have felt in his whole life, and with a strange heaviness about his heart. He forgot for the moment that there was need for him to be on his guard against possible detectives sent by Mr. Holman. Even the importance of the message he carried seemed to weigh less, now that he was free. His feet had a strange unwillingness to hurry, and without a constant pressure of the will would have lagged in spite of him. His heart wanted to let suit-case and commission and everything else go to the winds and take him back to the state-room where he had left his sorrowful bride of an hour. She was not his, and he might not go, but he knew that he would never be the same hereafter. He would always be wondering where she was, wishing he could have saved her from whatever troubled her; wishing she were his bride, and not another’s.

He passed back through the station gate, and a man in evening clothes eyed him sharply. He fancied he saw a resemblance of one of the men at the Holman dinner-table, but he dared not look again lest a glance should cost him recognition. He wondered blindly which way he should take, and if it would be safe to risk going at once to the checking window, or whether he ought to go in hiding until he was sure young Jefferson would no longer look for him. Then a hand touched his shoulder and a voice that was strangely welcome shouted:

“This way, George! The checking place is over to the right!”

He turned and there stood Jefferson, smiling and panting:

“You see, the little mother had something to say to Celia alone, so I saw I was de trop, and I thought I better come with you,” he declared as soon as he could get his breath.

“Gee, but you can run!” added the panting youth. “What’s the hurry? It’s ten whole minutes before the train leaves. I couldn’t waste all the time kicking my heels on the platform, when I might be enjoying my new brother-in-law’s company. I say, are you really going to live permanently in Chicago? I do wish you’d decide to come back to New York. Mother’ll miss Celia no end. I don’t know how she’s going to stand it.”

Walking airily by Gordon’s side, he talked, apparently not noticing the sudden start and look of mingles anxiety and relief that overspread his brother-in-law’s countenance. Then another man walked by them and turning looked in their faces, Gordon was sure this was the thick-set man from Holman’s. He was eyeing Gordon keenly. Suddenly all other questions stepped into the background, and the only immediate matter that concerned him was his message, to get it safely to its destination. With real relief he saw that this had been his greatest concern of all the time, underneath all hindrances, and that there had not been any moment any escape from the crowding circumstances other than that he had taken, step by step. If he had been beset by thieves and blackguards, and thrown into prison for a time he would not have felt shame at the delay, for those things he could not help. He saw with new illumination that there was no more shame to him from these trivial and peculiar circumstances with which he had been hemmed in since his start to New York than if he had been checked by any more tragic obstacles. His only real misgiving was about his marriage. Somehow it seemed his fault, and he felt there ought to be some way to confess his part at once – but how – without putting his message in jeopardy – for no one would believe unless they knew all.

But the time of danger was at hand, he plainly saw. The man whom he dared not look closely at had turned again and was walking parallel to them, glancing now and again keenly in their direction. He was watching Gordon furtively; not a motion escaped him.

There was a moment’s delay at the checking counter while the attendant searched for the suitcase, and Gordon was convinced that the man had stopped a few steps away merely for the purpose of watching him.

He dared not look around or notice the man, but he was sure he followed them back to the train. He felt his presence as clearly as if he had been able to see through the back of his head.

But Gordon was cool and collected now. It was as if the experiences of the last two hours, with their embarrassing predicaments, had been wiped off the calendar, and he were back at the moment when he left the Holman house. He knew as well as if he had watched them follow him that they discovered his – theft – treachery – whatever it ought to be called – and he was being searched for; and because of what was at stake those men would track him to death if they could. But he knew also that his disguise and his companion were for the moment puzzling this sleuth-hound.

This was probably not the only watcher about the station. There were detectives, too, perhaps, hired hastily, and all too ready to seize a suspect.

He marvelled that he could walk so deliberately, swinging his suit-case in his gloved hand at so momentous a time. He smiled and talked easily with the pleasant fellow who walked by his side, and answer his questions with very little idea of what he was saying; making promises which his heart would like to keep, but which he now saw no way of making good.

Thus they entered the train and came to the car where the bride and her mother waited. There were tears on the face of the girl, and she turned to the window to hide them. Gordon’s eyes follow her wistfully, and down through the double glass, unnoticed by her absent gaze, he saw the face of the man who had followed them, sharply watching him.

Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he kept in on in spite of the presence of the ladies. The color rose in his cheeks that he had to seem so discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he insisted that he be allowed to take the elder lady to the platform, as it really was almost time for the train to start, and so he went deliberately out to act the part of the bridegroom in the face of his recognized foe.

The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on the vestibule platform, while Jefferson bade his sister good-by and tried to soothe her distress at parting from her mother.