October 13, 2025 • 27 mins
14 - The Best Man by Grace Livingston Hill.
Cyril Gordon, a young and handsome secret service agent is running from pursuers who desperately want the information he holds. He hides out from them in a church, and then finds himself married to a woman he’s never seen before. A sweet and sometimes, funny, romance, with several exciting chases.
Cyril Gordon, a young and handsome secret service agent is running from pursuers who desperately want the information he holds. He hides out from them in a church, and then finds himself married to a woman he’s never seen before. A sweet and sometimes, funny, romance, with several exciting chases.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter fourteen of The Best Man. This LibriVox recording is
in the public domain. Recording by Gale Mattern. The Best
Man by Grace livingstone Hill, chapter fourteen. It was not
until the white dome of the capital and the tall
needle of the monument were painted soft and vision like
(00:22):
against the sky, reminding one of the pictures of the
heavenly City in the story of Pilgrim's progress, and faintly
suggesting a new and visionary world, that he sought her
again and found her fully ready, standing in the aisle
while the porter put up the berth out of the way.
Beneath the great brim of her purple hat, with the
(00:44):
soft fronds of her plumes trembled with the motion of
the train. She lifted sweet eyes to him, as if
she were both glad and frightened to see him. And
then that ecstasy shot through him again, as he realized
suddenly what it would be to have her for his
life companion, to feel her looks of gladness were all
for him, and have the right to take all fright
(01:06):
away from her. They could only smile at each other
for good morning, for everybody was standing up and being
brushed and pushing here and there for suit cases and
lost umbrellas, and everybody talked loudly and loft a great deal,
and told how late the train was. Then at last
they were there and could get out and walk silently,
(01:27):
side by side in the noisy procession through the station
to the sidewalk. What little things sometimes change a lifetime
and make for our safety or our destruction. That very morning,
three keen watchers were set to guard that station at
Washington to hunt out the government spy who had stolen
(01:49):
back the stolen message and take him message and all
dead or alive, back to New York. For the man
who could testify against the Holman combination was not to
be let live, if there was such a thing as
getting him out of the way. But they never thought
to watch the special, which was supposed to carry only
delegates to the Great Convention. He could not possibly be
(02:12):
on that. They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh, for
they had been so advised by telegram the evening before
by one of their company who had seen him buying
a sleeper ticket for Washington. But they felt safe about
that special, for they had made inquiries and been told
no one but delegates could possibly come on it. They
(02:33):
had done their work thoroughly and were on hand with
every possible plan perfected for begging their game, But they
took the time when the Pittsburgh Special was expected to
arrive for eating a hearty breakfast in the restaurant across
the street from the station. Two of them emerged from
the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to meet the
next Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, having placed the lady
(02:56):
in a closed carriage, was getting in himself. If the
carriage had stood in any other spot along the pavement
in front of the station, they never would have seen him.
But as it was, they had a full view of him,
and because they were Washington men and experts in their line,
they recognized him at once and knew their plans had
(03:18):
failed and that only by extreme measures could they hope
to prevent the delivery of the message, which would mean
downfall and disaster to them and their schemes. As Gordon
slammed shut the door of the carriage, he caught a
vision of his two enemies pointing excitedly toward him, and
he knew that the bloodhounds were on the scent. His
(03:39):
heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided between the message
and the lady. What should he do? Drive at once
to the home of his chief and deliver the message,
or leave the girl at his rooms, phone for a
faster conveyance, and trust to getting to his chief ahead
of his pursuers. Don't let anything hinder you. Don't let
(04:00):
anything hinder you. Make it a matter of life and death,
rang the little ditty in his ears. And now it
seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the message,
And yet a matter of life and death he could not,
must not, might not take the lady with him into danger.
If he must be in danger of death, he did
(04:20):
not want to die having exposed an innocent stranger to
the same. Then there was another point to be thought of.
He had already told the driver to take him to
his apartments and to drive as rapidly as possible. It
would not do to stop him now and change the directions,
for a pistol shot could easily reach him. Yet, and
(04:41):
coming from a crowd who would be suspected his enemies
were standing on the threshold of a place where there
were many of their kind to protect them, And none
of his friends knew of his coming. It would be
a raceful life from now on to the finish. Celia
was looking out with interest at the recognizing landmarks with wonder,
(05:03):
and did not notice Gordon's white set face and burning
eyes as he strained his vision to note how fast
the horse was going. Oh, if the driver would only
turn off it the next corner into the side street.
They could not watch the carriage so far, but it
was not likely, for this was the most direct road.
And yet yes, he had turned joy The street here
(05:26):
was so crowded that he had sought the narrower, less
crowded way, that he might go the faster. It seemed
an age to him, before they stopped at his apartments.
Je Celia, it had been but a short ride in
which familiar scenes had brought her pleasure, for she recognized
that she was not in strange Chicago, but in Washington,
a city often visited. Somehow, she felt it was an
(05:49):
omen of a better future than she had feared. Oh
why didn't you tell me, she smiled to Gordon, It
is Washington, dear old Washington. Somehow He controlled the tumult
in his heart and smiled back, saying, in a voice
quite natural, I am so glad you like it. She
(06:09):
seemed to understand that they could not talk until they
reached a quiet place somewhere, and she did not trouble
him with questions. Instead, she looked from the window or
watched him furtively, comparing him with her memory of George Hayne,
and wondering in her own thoughts. She was glad to
have them to herself for just this little bit, for
(06:31):
now that the morning had come, she was almost afraid
of revelation what it might bring forth. And so it
came about that they took the swift ride in more
or less silence, and neither thought it strange. As the
carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hurried voice, tense with excitement.
But her own nerves were on a strain also, and
(06:52):
she did not notice. We get out here. He had
the fear ready for the driver, and stepping out, hurried
Celia into the shelter of the hallway. It happened that
an elevator had just come down, so it was but
a second more before they were up safe in the
hall before his own apartment. Taking a latch key from
(07:13):
his pocket, he applied it to the door, flung it open,
and ushered Celia to a large leather chair in the
middle of the room. Then, stepping quickly to the side
of the room, he touched a bell, and from it
went to the telephone with an excuse me please, This
is necessary to the girl, who sat astonished, wondering at
(07:33):
the homelikeness of this room and at the at homeness
of the man. She had expected to be taken to
a hotel. This seemed to be a private apartment with
which he was perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some friend,
But how after an absence of years could he remember
just where to go, which door, and which elevator to take,
(07:56):
and how to fit the key with so accustomed a hand.
Then her attention was arrested by his voice. Give me
two fifty four l please, he said, Is this two
fifty four l is mister Osborne? In you say he
has not gone to the office yet. May I speak
with him? Is this mister Osborne? I did not expect
(08:20):
you to know my voice. Yes, sir, just arrived and
all safe? So far? Shall I bring it to the
house or the office? The house? All right, sir? Immediately,
by the way, I am sure Hale and Burke are
on my track. They saw me at the station to
your house. You will wait until I come, all right, sir, yes, immediately, sure,
(08:45):
I'll take precaution. Good bye. With the closing words, came
a tap at the door. Come, Henry, he answered, as
the astonished girl turned toward the door. Henry, you will
go down please to the restaurant and bring up a
menu card. This lady will select what she would like
to have, and you will serve breakfast for her in
(09:06):
this room as soon as possible. I shall be out
for perhaps an hour, and meantime you will obey any
orders she may give you. He did not introduce her
as his wife, but she did not notice the omission.
She had suddenly become aware of a strange, distraught haste
in his manner, and when he said he was going out,
(09:27):
alarm seized her. She could not tell why. The man
bowed deferentially to his master, looked his admiration and devotion
to the lady, waited long enough to say, I is
mighty glad to see you back safe, sir, and disappeared
to obey orders. Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation,
(09:47):
but he was already at the telephone. Again forty six.
Is this the garage? This is the Harris's apartments. Can
you send Thomas with a closed car to the rear
door immediately? Yes? No, I want Thomas in a car
that can speed. Yes, the rear door, rear and at once?
(10:09):
What what's that? But I must it's official business, well,
I thought, so hurry them up. Good bye. He turned
and saw her troubled gaze following him, with growing fear
in her eyes. What is the matter? She asked anxiously.
Has something happened just one moment? He paused, and, coming
(10:34):
toward her, laid his hands on hers tenderly. Nothing the
matter at all, he said, soothingly. At least nothing that
need weary you. It is just a matter of pressing business.
I'm sorry to have to go from you for a
little while, but it is necessary. I cannot explain to
you until I return. You will trust me, you will
(10:54):
not weary. I will try. Her lips were quivering and
her eyes were filled teas. Again, he felt that intense
longing to lay his lips upon hers and comfort her,
but he put it from him. There is nothing to
feel sad about, he said, smiling gently. It is nothing
tragic only there is need for haste, for if I wait,
(11:16):
I may fail. Yet it is something that means a
great deal to me. When I come back, I will
explain all go, she said, putting out her hands in
a gesture of resignation, as if she would hurry him
from her. And though she was burning to know what
it all meant, there was that about him that compelled
her to trust him and to wait. Then his control
(11:39):
almost went from him. He nearly took those hands in
his and kissed them, but he did not. Instead, he
went with swift steps to his bedroom door, threw open
a chiffonia drawer, and took therefrom something small and sinister.
She could see the gleam of its polished metal, and
she sensed a strange little menace in the click as
(11:59):
he did something to it. She could not see what,
because his back was to her. He came out with
his hand in his pocket, as if he had just
hidden something there. She was not familiar with firearms, her
mother had been afraid of them, and her brother had
never flourished any around the house. Yet she knew by
instinct that some weapon of defense was in Gordon's possession,
(12:23):
and a nameless horror rose in her heart and shone
from her blue eyes, but she would not speak a
word to let him know it. If he had not
been in such haste he would have seen her horror
would have been still greater if she had known that
he already carried one loaded revolver and was taking a
second in case of an emergency. Don't worry, he called,
(12:45):
as he hurried out the door. Henry will get anything
you need, and I shall soon be back. The door
closed and he was gone. She heard his quick step
down the hall, heard the elevated door slide and slam again,
and then she knew he was gone. Down outside, an
automobile sounded, and she seemed to hear again his words
(13:05):
at the phone the rear door. Why had he gone
to the rear door? Was he in hiding? Was he
flying from someone? What? Oh, what did it mean? Without
stopping to reason it out, she flew across the room
and opened the door of the bedroom he had just left,
then threw it, passed swiftly to a bathroom beyond. Yes,
(13:27):
there was a window. Would it be the one? Could
she see him? And what good would it do her
if she could? She crowded close to the window. There
was a heavy sash with stained glass, but she selected
a clear bit of yellow and put her eye close. Yes,
there was a closed automobile just below her, and it
(13:48):
had started away from the building. He had gone, then,
where her mind was a blank for a few minutes,
She went slowly mechanically back to the other room, without
noticing anything about her, sat down in the chair, putting
her hands to her temples, and tried to think back
to the moment in the church where he had appeared
(14:09):
at her side and the service had begun. Something had
told her then that he was different. And yet there
had been those letters, and how could it possibly be
that he had not written them? He was gone on
some dangerous business. Of that, she felt sure there had
been some caution given him by the man to whom
he first phoned. He had promised to take precaution. That
(14:33):
meant the little wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket, perhaps
some harm would come to him, and she would never know.
And then she stared at the opposite wall with wonder
filled eyes. Well, and suppose it did. Why did she care?
Was he not the man whose power over her but
two short days ago, would have made her welcome death
(14:55):
as her deliverer. Why was all changed now just because
he had smiled upon her and been kind, had given
her a few wild flowers and said her eyes were
like them, had hair that waved instead of being straight
and thin. And where was all her loyalty to her
dear dead father's memory? How could she mind that dangers
(15:19):
should come to one who had threatened to tell terrible lies,
that should blacken him in the thoughts of people who
had loved him. Had she forgotten the letters? Was she
willing to forgive all just because he had declared that
he did not write them? How foolish he said, he
could prove that he did not, But of course that
(15:40):
was all nonsense. He must have written them. And yet
there was the wave in his hair and the kindness
in his eyes, and he had looked, Oh, he had
looked terrible things when he had read that letter, as
if he would like to wreak vengeance on the man
who had written it. Could a man masquerade that way?
And then a new solution to the problem came to her.
(16:03):
Suppose this, whoever he was, this man who had married her,
had gone out to find and punished George Hayne suppose.
But then she covered her eyes with her hands and shuddered.
Yet why should she care? But she did suppose he
should be killed himself. Who was he if not George Hayne?
(16:25):
And how did he come to take his place? Was
it just another of George's terrible tricks upon her? A
quick vision came of their bringing him back to her.
He would lie, perhaps on that great crimson leather couch
over there, just as he had lain in the dawning
of the morning in the stateroom of the train, with
(16:46):
his hands hanging limp and one perhaps across his breast,
as if he were guarding something, and his bright waves
of brown hair lying heavy about his forehead. Only his
forehead would be white, so white and cold, with a
little blue mark in his temple. Perhaps the footsteps of
(17:06):
the man Henry brought her back to the present again.
She smiled at him pleasantly as he entered, and answered
his questions about what she would have for breakfast. But
it was he who selected the menu, not she, And
after he had gone, she could not have told what
she had ordered. She could not get away from the
vision on the couch. She closed her eyes and pressed
(17:30):
her cold fingers against her eyeballs to drive it away,
but still her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her.
The colored man came back presently with a loaded tray
and set it down on a little table, which he
wheeled before her, as though he had done it many
times before. She thanked him and said there was nothing
else she needed, so he went away. She toyed with
(17:52):
the cup of delicious coffee which he had poured for her,
and the few swallows she took gave her new heart.
She broke a bit from a hot roll and ate
a little of the delicious steak. But still her mind
was at work at the problem, and her heart was
full of nameless anxiety. He had gone away without any
breakfast himself, and he had had no supper the night before.
(18:16):
She was sure he probably had given to her everything
he could get on the train. She was haunted with
regret because she had not shared with him. She got
up and walked about the room, trying to shake off
the horror that was upon her and the dread of
what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily she would have
thought of sending a message to her mother and brother,
(18:38):
but her mind was so troubled now that it never
occurred to her. The walls of the room were tinted
a soft greenish gray, and above the picture molding they
blended into a woodsy landscape with a hint of water,
greensward and blue sky through interlacing branches. It reminded her
of the little village they had seen as they started
(18:58):
from the train in the early morning light. What a
beautiful day they had spent together, and how it had
changed her whole attitude of heart to the man she
had married. Two or three fine pictures were hung in
good lights. She studied them and knew that the one
who had selected and hung them was a judge of
true art. But they did not hold her attention long,
(19:22):
for as yet she had not connected the room with
the man for whom she waited. A handsome mahogany desk
stood open in a broad space by the window. She
was attracted by a little painted miniature of a woman.
She took it up and studied the face. It was
fine and sweet, with brown hair dressed low, and eyes
(19:43):
that reminded her of the man who had just gone
from her. Was this then the home of some relative
with whom he had come to stop for a day?
Or two, And if so, where was the relative? The
dress in the miniature was of a quarter of a
century past, yet the face young and sweet, as young
perhaps as herself. She wondered who it was. She put
(20:06):
the miniature back in place with a caressing hand. She
felt that she would like to know this woman with
the tender eyes. She wished her here now, that she
might tell her all her anxiety. Her eye wandered to
the pile of letters, some of them official looking ones,
one or two in square perfumed envelopes with high angular writing.
(20:28):
They were all addressed to mister Cyril Gordon. That was strange.
Who was mister Cyril Gordon? What had they what had
she to do with him? Was he a friend whom
George whom they were visiting for a few days? It
was all bewildering. Then the telephone rang. Her heart beat wildly,
(20:48):
and she looked toward it as if it had been
a human voice speaking, and she had no power to answer.
What should she do now? Should she answer or should
she wait for the man to come? Could the man
heard the telephone bell? Or was she perhaps expected to answer?
And yet if mister Cyril Gordon, well, somebody ought to answer.
(21:10):
The phone rang insistently once more, and still a third time.
What if he should be calling her? Perhaps he was
in distress. This thought sent her flying to the phone.
She took down the receiver and called hello, and her
voice sounded far away to herself. Is this mister Gordon's apartment? Yes,
(21:33):
she answered, for her eyes were resting on the pile
of letters close at hand. Is mister Gordon there? No,
he is not, she answered, growing more confident now and
almost wishing she had not presumed to answer a stranger's phone.
Why I just phoned to the office and they told
me he had returned, said a voice that had an
(21:54):
imperious note in it. Are you sure he isn't there?
Quite sure, she replied. Who is this? Please? I beg
your pardon, said Celia, trying to make time and knowing
not how to reply. She was not any longer Miss Hathaway.
Who was she? Missus Hayn? She shrank from the name.
(22:15):
It was filled with horror for her. Who is this,
I said, snapped the other voice. Now is this the chambermaid?
Because if it is, I'd like you to look round
and inquire and be quite sure that mister Gordon isn't there.
I wish to speak with him about something very important.
Celia smiled. No, this is not the chambermaid, she said sweetly,
(22:39):
And I am quite sure mister Gordon is not here.
How long before he will be there? I don't know, really,
for I have but just come myself. Who is this
to whom I am talking? Why? Just a friend, she answered,
wondering if that were the best thing to say. Oh.
(23:01):
There was a long and contemplative pause at the other end.
Well could you give mister Gordon a message when he
comes in? Why? Certainly? I think so. Who's this miss Bentley?
Julia Bentley? He'll know, replied the imperious one eagerly. Now
and tell him please that he is expected here to
(23:21):
dinner to night. We need him to complete the number,
and he simply mustn't fail me. I'll excuse him for
going off in such a rush if he comes early
and tells me all about it. Now. You won't forget,
will you. You got the name Bentley? Did you b
E N T L E Y? You know? And you'll
(23:43):
tell him the minute he comes in. Yes, thank you?
What did you say your name was? But Celia had
hung up somehow the message annoyed her. She could not
tell why she wished she had not answered the phone. Whoever,
mister Cyril Gordon was. What should she do if he
(24:03):
should suddenly appear? And as for this imperious lady and
her message, she hoped she would never have to deliver it.
On second thought, why not write it and leave it
on his desk with the pile of letters. She would
do it. It would serve to pass away a few
of these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully. She sat
down and wrote, Miss Bentley wishes mister Gordon to dine
(24:27):
with her this evening. She will pardon his running away
the other day if he will come early. She laid
it beside the high angular writing on the square perfumed letters,
and went back to the leather chair. Too restless to rest,
yet too weary to stand up, she went presently to
the back windows to look out, and then to the
(24:48):
side ones. Across the housetops she could catch a glimpse
of domes and buildings. There was the Congressional Library, which
usually delighted her with its exquisite tones of gold and
brown and white, but she had no eyes for it now.
Beyond were more buildings, all set in the Lovely Foliage,
(25:08):
which was much farther developed than it had been in
New York State. From another window, she could get a
glimpse of the Potomac shining in the morning sun. She
wandered to the front windows and looked out. There were
people passing and repassing. It was a busy street, but
she could not make out whether it was one she
knew or not. There were two men walking back and
(25:32):
forth on the opposite side. They did not go further
than the corner of the street either way. They looked
across at the windows sometimes and pointed up when they met,
and once one of them took something out of his
pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side,
as if to have it ready for use. It reminded
her of the thing her husband had held in his
(25:54):
hand in the bedroom, and she shuddered. She watched them fascinated,
not able to draw herself away from the window. Now
and then she would go to the rear window to
see if there was any sign of the automobile returning,
and then hurry back to the front to see if
the men were still there. Once she returned to the chair,
(26:15):
and lying back, shut her eyes and let the memory
of yesterday sweep over her in all its sweet details,
up to the time when they had got into the
way train, and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty
to her father. But now her heart was all on
the other side, and she began to feel that there
had been some dreadful mistake somewhere, and he was surely
(26:38):
all right. He could not could not have written those
terrible letters. Then again, the details of their wild carriage
ride in Pittsburgh and miraculous escape haunted her. There was
something strange and unexplained about that which she must understand
(26:58):
end of chapter fourteen mean
Chapter fourteen of The Best Man. This LibriVox recording is
in the public domain. Recording by Gale Mattern. The Best
Man by Grace livingstone Hill, chapter fourteen. It was not
until the white dome of the capital and the tall
needle of the monument were painted soft and vision like
(00:22):
against the sky, reminding one of the pictures of the
heavenly City in the story of Pilgrim's progress, and faintly
suggesting a new and visionary world, that he sought her
again and found her fully ready, standing in the aisle
while the porter put up the berth out of the way.
Beneath the great brim of her purple hat, with the
(00:44):
soft fronds of her plumes trembled with the motion of
the train. She lifted sweet eyes to him, as if
she were both glad and frightened to see him. And
then that ecstasy shot through him again, as he realized
suddenly what it would be to have her for his
life companion, to feel her looks of gladness were all
for him, and have the right to take all fright
(01:06):
away from her. They could only smile at each other
for good morning, for everybody was standing up and being
brushed and pushing here and there for suit cases and
lost umbrellas, and everybody talked loudly and loft a great deal,
and told how late the train was. Then at last
they were there and could get out and walk silently,
(01:27):
side by side in the noisy procession through the station
to the sidewalk. What little things sometimes change a lifetime
and make for our safety or our destruction. That very morning,
three keen watchers were set to guard that station at
Washington to hunt out the government spy who had stolen
(01:49):
back the stolen message and take him message and all
dead or alive, back to New York. For the man
who could testify against the Holman combination was not to
be let live, if there was such a thing as
getting him out of the way. But they never thought
to watch the special, which was supposed to carry only
delegates to the Great Convention. He could not possibly be
(02:12):
on that. They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh, for
they had been so advised by telegram the evening before
by one of their company who had seen him buying
a sleeper ticket for Washington. But they felt safe about
that special, for they had made inquiries and been told
no one but delegates could possibly come on it. They
(02:33):
had done their work thoroughly and were on hand with
every possible plan perfected for begging their game, But they
took the time when the Pittsburgh Special was expected to
arrive for eating a hearty breakfast in the restaurant across
the street from the station. Two of them emerged from
the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to meet the
next Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, having placed the lady
(02:56):
in a closed carriage, was getting in himself. If the
carriage had stood in any other spot along the pavement
in front of the station, they never would have seen him.
But as it was, they had a full view of him,
and because they were Washington men and experts in their line,
they recognized him at once and knew their plans had
(03:18):
failed and that only by extreme measures could they hope
to prevent the delivery of the message, which would mean
downfall and disaster to them and their schemes. As Gordon
slammed shut the door of the carriage, he caught a
vision of his two enemies pointing excitedly toward him, and
he knew that the bloodhounds were on the scent. His
(03:39):
heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided between the message
and the lady. What should he do? Drive at once
to the home of his chief and deliver the message,
or leave the girl at his rooms, phone for a
faster conveyance, and trust to getting to his chief ahead
of his pursuers. Don't let anything hinder you. Don't let
(04:00):
anything hinder you. Make it a matter of life and death,
rang the little ditty in his ears. And now it
seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the message,
And yet a matter of life and death he could not,
must not, might not take the lady with him into danger.
If he must be in danger of death, he did
(04:20):
not want to die having exposed an innocent stranger to
the same. Then there was another point to be thought of.
He had already told the driver to take him to
his apartments and to drive as rapidly as possible. It
would not do to stop him now and change the directions,
for a pistol shot could easily reach him. Yet, and
(04:41):
coming from a crowd who would be suspected his enemies
were standing on the threshold of a place where there
were many of their kind to protect them, And none
of his friends knew of his coming. It would be
a raceful life from now on to the finish. Celia
was looking out with interest at the recognizing landmarks with wonder,
(05:03):
and did not notice Gordon's white set face and burning
eyes as he strained his vision to note how fast
the horse was going. Oh, if the driver would only
turn off it the next corner into the side street.
They could not watch the carriage so far, but it
was not likely, for this was the most direct road.
And yet yes, he had turned joy The street here
(05:26):
was so crowded that he had sought the narrower, less
crowded way, that he might go the faster. It seemed
an age to him, before they stopped at his apartments.
Je Celia, it had been but a short ride in
which familiar scenes had brought her pleasure, for she recognized
that she was not in strange Chicago, but in Washington,
a city often visited. Somehow, she felt it was an
(05:49):
omen of a better future than she had feared. Oh
why didn't you tell me, she smiled to Gordon, It
is Washington, dear old Washington. Somehow He controlled the tumult
in his heart and smiled back, saying, in a voice
quite natural, I am so glad you like it. She
(06:09):
seemed to understand that they could not talk until they
reached a quiet place somewhere, and she did not trouble
him with questions. Instead, she looked from the window or
watched him furtively, comparing him with her memory of George Hayne,
and wondering in her own thoughts. She was glad to
have them to herself for just this little bit, for
(06:31):
now that the morning had come, she was almost afraid
of revelation what it might bring forth. And so it
came about that they took the swift ride in more
or less silence, and neither thought it strange. As the
carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hurried voice, tense with excitement.
But her own nerves were on a strain also, and
(06:52):
she did not notice. We get out here. He had
the fear ready for the driver, and stepping out, hurried
Celia into the shelter of the hallway. It happened that
an elevator had just come down, so it was but
a second more before they were up safe in the
hall before his own apartment. Taking a latch key from
(07:13):
his pocket, he applied it to the door, flung it open,
and ushered Celia to a large leather chair in the
middle of the room. Then, stepping quickly to the side
of the room, he touched a bell, and from it
went to the telephone with an excuse me please, This
is necessary to the girl, who sat astonished, wondering at
(07:33):
the homelikeness of this room and at the at homeness
of the man. She had expected to be taken to
a hotel. This seemed to be a private apartment with
which he was perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some friend,
But how after an absence of years could he remember
just where to go, which door, and which elevator to take,
(07:56):
and how to fit the key with so accustomed a hand.
Then her attention was arrested by his voice. Give me
two fifty four l please, he said, Is this two
fifty four l is mister Osborne? In you say he
has not gone to the office yet. May I speak
with him? Is this mister Osborne? I did not expect
(08:20):
you to know my voice. Yes, sir, just arrived and
all safe? So far? Shall I bring it to the
house or the office? The house? All right, sir? Immediately,
by the way, I am sure Hale and Burke are
on my track. They saw me at the station to
your house. You will wait until I come, all right, sir, yes, immediately, sure,
(08:45):
I'll take precaution. Good bye. With the closing words, came
a tap at the door. Come, Henry, he answered, as
the astonished girl turned toward the door. Henry, you will
go down please to the restaurant and bring up a
menu card. This lady will select what she would like
to have, and you will serve breakfast for her in
(09:06):
this room as soon as possible. I shall be out
for perhaps an hour, and meantime you will obey any
orders she may give you. He did not introduce her
as his wife, but she did not notice the omission.
She had suddenly become aware of a strange, distraught haste
in his manner, and when he said he was going out,
(09:27):
alarm seized her. She could not tell why. The man
bowed deferentially to his master, looked his admiration and devotion
to the lady, waited long enough to say, I is
mighty glad to see you back safe, sir, and disappeared
to obey orders. Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation,
(09:47):
but he was already at the telephone. Again forty six.
Is this the garage? This is the Harris's apartments. Can
you send Thomas with a closed car to the rear
door immediately? Yes? No, I want Thomas in a car
that can speed. Yes, the rear door, rear and at once?
(10:09):
What what's that? But I must it's official business, well,
I thought, so hurry them up. Good bye. He turned
and saw her troubled gaze following him, with growing fear
in her eyes. What is the matter? She asked anxiously.
Has something happened just one moment? He paused, and, coming
(10:34):
toward her, laid his hands on hers tenderly. Nothing the
matter at all, he said, soothingly. At least nothing that
need weary you. It is just a matter of pressing business.
I'm sorry to have to go from you for a
little while, but it is necessary. I cannot explain to
you until I return. You will trust me, you will
(10:54):
not weary. I will try. Her lips were quivering and
her eyes were filled teas. Again, he felt that intense
longing to lay his lips upon hers and comfort her,
but he put it from him. There is nothing to
feel sad about, he said, smiling gently. It is nothing
tragic only there is need for haste, for if I wait,
(11:16):
I may fail. Yet it is something that means a
great deal to me. When I come back, I will
explain all go, she said, putting out her hands in
a gesture of resignation, as if she would hurry him
from her. And though she was burning to know what
it all meant, there was that about him that compelled
her to trust him and to wait. Then his control
(11:39):
almost went from him. He nearly took those hands in
his and kissed them, but he did not. Instead, he
went with swift steps to his bedroom door, threw open
a chiffonia drawer, and took therefrom something small and sinister.
She could see the gleam of its polished metal, and
she sensed a strange little menace in the click as
(11:59):
he did something to it. She could not see what,
because his back was to her. He came out with
his hand in his pocket, as if he had just
hidden something there. She was not familiar with firearms, her
mother had been afraid of them, and her brother had
never flourished any around the house. Yet she knew by
instinct that some weapon of defense was in Gordon's possession,
(12:23):
and a nameless horror rose in her heart and shone
from her blue eyes, but she would not speak a
word to let him know it. If he had not
been in such haste he would have seen her horror
would have been still greater if she had known that
he already carried one loaded revolver and was taking a
second in case of an emergency. Don't worry, he called,
(12:45):
as he hurried out the door. Henry will get anything
you need, and I shall soon be back. The door
closed and he was gone. She heard his quick step
down the hall, heard the elevated door slide and slam again,
and then she knew he was gone. Down outside, an
automobile sounded, and she seemed to hear again his words
(13:05):
at the phone the rear door. Why had he gone
to the rear door? Was he in hiding? Was he
flying from someone? What? Oh, what did it mean? Without
stopping to reason it out, she flew across the room
and opened the door of the bedroom he had just left,
then threw it, passed swiftly to a bathroom beyond. Yes,
(13:27):
there was a window. Would it be the one? Could
she see him? And what good would it do her
if she could? She crowded close to the window. There
was a heavy sash with stained glass, but she selected
a clear bit of yellow and put her eye close. Yes,
there was a closed automobile just below her, and it
(13:48):
had started away from the building. He had gone, then,
where her mind was a blank for a few minutes,
She went slowly mechanically back to the other room, without
noticing anything about her, sat down in the chair, putting
her hands to her temples, and tried to think back
to the moment in the church where he had appeared
(14:09):
at her side and the service had begun. Something had
told her then that he was different. And yet there
had been those letters, and how could it possibly be
that he had not written them? He was gone on
some dangerous business. Of that, she felt sure there had
been some caution given him by the man to whom
he first phoned. He had promised to take precaution. That
(14:33):
meant the little wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket, perhaps
some harm would come to him, and she would never know.
And then she stared at the opposite wall with wonder
filled eyes. Well, and suppose it did. Why did she care?
Was he not the man whose power over her but
two short days ago, would have made her welcome death
(14:55):
as her deliverer. Why was all changed now just because
he had smiled upon her and been kind, had given
her a few wild flowers and said her eyes were
like them, had hair that waved instead of being straight
and thin. And where was all her loyalty to her
dear dead father's memory? How could she mind that dangers
(15:19):
should come to one who had threatened to tell terrible lies,
that should blacken him in the thoughts of people who
had loved him. Had she forgotten the letters? Was she
willing to forgive all just because he had declared that
he did not write them? How foolish he said, he
could prove that he did not, But of course that
(15:40):
was all nonsense. He must have written them. And yet
there was the wave in his hair and the kindness
in his eyes, and he had looked, Oh, he had
looked terrible things when he had read that letter, as
if he would like to wreak vengeance on the man
who had written it. Could a man masquerade that way?
And then a new solution to the problem came to her.
(16:03):
Suppose this, whoever he was, this man who had married her,
had gone out to find and punished George Hayne suppose.
But then she covered her eyes with her hands and shuddered.
Yet why should she care? But she did suppose he
should be killed himself. Who was he if not George Hayne?
(16:25):
And how did he come to take his place? Was
it just another of George's terrible tricks upon her? A
quick vision came of their bringing him back to her.
He would lie, perhaps on that great crimson leather couch
over there, just as he had lain in the dawning
of the morning in the stateroom of the train, with
(16:46):
his hands hanging limp and one perhaps across his breast,
as if he were guarding something, and his bright waves
of brown hair lying heavy about his forehead. Only his
forehead would be white, so white and cold, with a
little blue mark in his temple. Perhaps the footsteps of
(17:06):
the man Henry brought her back to the present again.
She smiled at him pleasantly as he entered, and answered
his questions about what she would have for breakfast. But
it was he who selected the menu, not she, And
after he had gone, she could not have told what
she had ordered. She could not get away from the
vision on the couch. She closed her eyes and pressed
(17:30):
her cold fingers against her eyeballs to drive it away,
but still her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her.
The colored man came back presently with a loaded tray
and set it down on a little table, which he
wheeled before her, as though he had done it many
times before. She thanked him and said there was nothing
else she needed, so he went away. She toyed with
(17:52):
the cup of delicious coffee which he had poured for her,
and the few swallows she took gave her new heart.
She broke a bit from a hot roll and ate
a little of the delicious steak. But still her mind
was at work at the problem, and her heart was
full of nameless anxiety. He had gone away without any
breakfast himself, and he had had no supper the night before.
(18:16):
She was sure he probably had given to her everything
he could get on the train. She was haunted with
regret because she had not shared with him. She got
up and walked about the room, trying to shake off
the horror that was upon her and the dread of
what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily she would have
thought of sending a message to her mother and brother,
(18:38):
but her mind was so troubled now that it never
occurred to her. The walls of the room were tinted
a soft greenish gray, and above the picture molding they
blended into a woodsy landscape with a hint of water,
greensward and blue sky through interlacing branches. It reminded her
of the little village they had seen as they started
(18:58):
from the train in the early morning light. What a
beautiful day they had spent together, and how it had
changed her whole attitude of heart to the man she
had married. Two or three fine pictures were hung in
good lights. She studied them and knew that the one
who had selected and hung them was a judge of
true art. But they did not hold her attention long,
(19:22):
for as yet she had not connected the room with
the man for whom she waited. A handsome mahogany desk
stood open in a broad space by the window. She
was attracted by a little painted miniature of a woman.
She took it up and studied the face. It was
fine and sweet, with brown hair dressed low, and eyes
(19:43):
that reminded her of the man who had just gone
from her. Was this then the home of some relative
with whom he had come to stop for a day?
Or two, And if so, where was the relative? The
dress in the miniature was of a quarter of a
century past, yet the face young and sweet, as young
perhaps as herself. She wondered who it was. She put
(20:06):
the miniature back in place with a caressing hand. She
felt that she would like to know this woman with
the tender eyes. She wished her here now, that she
might tell her all her anxiety. Her eye wandered to
the pile of letters, some of them official looking ones,
one or two in square perfumed envelopes with high angular writing.
(20:28):
They were all addressed to mister Cyril Gordon. That was strange.
Who was mister Cyril Gordon? What had they what had
she to do with him? Was he a friend whom
George whom they were visiting for a few days? It
was all bewildering. Then the telephone rang. Her heart beat wildly,
(20:48):
and she looked toward it as if it had been
a human voice speaking, and she had no power to answer.
What should she do now? Should she answer or should
she wait for the man to come? Could the man
heard the telephone bell? Or was she perhaps expected to answer?
And yet if mister Cyril Gordon, well, somebody ought to answer.
(21:10):
The phone rang insistently once more, and still a third time.
What if he should be calling her? Perhaps he was
in distress. This thought sent her flying to the phone.
She took down the receiver and called hello, and her
voice sounded far away to herself. Is this mister Gordon's apartment? Yes,
(21:33):
she answered, for her eyes were resting on the pile
of letters close at hand. Is mister Gordon there? No,
he is not, she answered, growing more confident now and
almost wishing she had not presumed to answer a stranger's phone.
Why I just phoned to the office and they told
me he had returned, said a voice that had an
(21:54):
imperious note in it. Are you sure he isn't there?
Quite sure, she replied. Who is this? Please? I beg
your pardon, said Celia, trying to make time and knowing
not how to reply. She was not any longer Miss Hathaway.
Who was she? Missus Hayn? She shrank from the name.
(22:15):
It was filled with horror for her. Who is this,
I said, snapped the other voice. Now is this the chambermaid?
Because if it is, I'd like you to look round
and inquire and be quite sure that mister Gordon isn't there.
I wish to speak with him about something very important.
Celia smiled. No, this is not the chambermaid, she said sweetly,
(22:39):
And I am quite sure mister Gordon is not here.
How long before he will be there? I don't know, really,
for I have but just come myself. Who is this
to whom I am talking? Why? Just a friend, she answered,
wondering if that were the best thing to say. Oh.
(23:01):
There was a long and contemplative pause at the other end.
Well could you give mister Gordon a message when he
comes in? Why? Certainly? I think so. Who's this miss Bentley?
Julia Bentley? He'll know, replied the imperious one eagerly. Now
and tell him please that he is expected here to
(23:21):
dinner to night. We need him to complete the number,
and he simply mustn't fail me. I'll excuse him for
going off in such a rush if he comes early
and tells me all about it. Now. You won't forget,
will you. You got the name Bentley? Did you b
E N T L E Y? You know? And you'll
(23:43):
tell him the minute he comes in. Yes, thank you?
What did you say your name was? But Celia had
hung up somehow the message annoyed her. She could not
tell why she wished she had not answered the phone. Whoever,
mister Cyril Gordon was. What should she do if he
(24:03):
should suddenly appear? And as for this imperious lady and
her message, she hoped she would never have to deliver it.
On second thought, why not write it and leave it
on his desk with the pile of letters. She would
do it. It would serve to pass away a few
of these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully. She sat
down and wrote, Miss Bentley wishes mister Gordon to dine
(24:27):
with her this evening. She will pardon his running away
the other day if he will come early. She laid
it beside the high angular writing on the square perfumed letters,
and went back to the leather chair. Too restless to rest,
yet too weary to stand up, she went presently to
the back windows to look out, and then to the
(24:48):
side ones. Across the housetops she could catch a glimpse
of domes and buildings. There was the Congressional Library, which
usually delighted her with its exquisite tones of gold and
brown and white, but she had no eyes for it now.
Beyond were more buildings, all set in the Lovely Foliage,
(25:08):
which was much farther developed than it had been in
New York State. From another window, she could get a
glimpse of the Potomac shining in the morning sun. She
wandered to the front windows and looked out. There were
people passing and repassing. It was a busy street, but
she could not make out whether it was one she
knew or not. There were two men walking back and
(25:32):
forth on the opposite side. They did not go further
than the corner of the street either way. They looked
across at the windows sometimes and pointed up when they met,
and once one of them took something out of his
pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side,
as if to have it ready for use. It reminded
her of the thing her husband had held in his
(25:54):
hand in the bedroom, and she shuddered. She watched them fascinated,
not able to draw herself away from the window. Now
and then she would go to the rear window to
see if there was any sign of the automobile returning,
and then hurry back to the front to see if
the men were still there. Once she returned to the chair,
(26:15):
and lying back, shut her eyes and let the memory
of yesterday sweep over her in all its sweet details,
up to the time when they had got into the
way train, and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty
to her father. But now her heart was all on
the other side, and she began to feel that there
had been some dreadful mistake somewhere, and he was surely
(26:38):
all right. He could not could not have written those
terrible letters. Then again, the details of their wild carriage
ride in Pittsburgh and miraculous escape haunted her. There was
something strange and unexplained about that which she must understand
(26:58):
end of chapter fourteen mean
Popular Podcasts
Spooky Podcasts from iHeartRadio
Whether you’re a scaredy-cat or a brave bat, this collection of episodes from iHeartPodcasts will put you in the Halloween spirit. Binge stories, frights, and more that may keep you up at night!
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.