CHAPTER XXVII.

UNMASKED.

For just a moment Richard Raleigh stood in the corridor outside Lillian’s room, in utter silence; then, with a muttering, he turned and walked away. Back to the library he hastened, finding, to his relief, that Mrs. Vernon had taken her departure. Pale and troubled, he sunk into a seat, gazing into the fire in moody silence.

“Well, the deed is done!” he said, harshly, with a swift upward glance into his father’s face, “and I have caught a Tartar.”

Grafton Raleigh smiled when he had heard his son’s story.

“Nonsense, Rick; I would pay no more heed to her caprices than to the blowing of the wind. All we want is her signature.”

Richard nodded.

“Very true. But, my dear sir, the girl is capable of anything. Suppose she refuses to sign our little document?”

Grafton Raleigh started up, pale and alarmed.

“She must sign it,” he returned, firmly. “If she is not willing we must force her into it, that’s all. Rick, the day for scruples and foolish hesitation is past. It is ruin if we do not get control of--”

“Hush! The very walls have ears; and since I have seen Bessie Vernon in the house I am uneasy. This matter is of vital importance to us both; to me it is more than you know. There is something which I have never dared to tell you, and I prefer keeping it to myself. But, believe me, if Lillian is not coerced into signing this paper, there will be blacker trouble for me than you realize.”

Grafton Raleigh sighed.

“I am sorry, Richard. But then I do not anticipate much difficulty in the matter. Let her alone until morning; then your mother must go and see her in her room, do the maternal, treat her like a young princess, flatter and defer to her, spoil her generally, and secure that signature by fair means or foul. After that I will wash my hands of the management of your wife.”

And while the worthy pair consulted together, Bessie Vernon was standing in an anteroom where every word distinctly reached her ears, waiting for Rosamond to come. She had accompanied that young lady home on an errand, after which she would return to the Vernon mansion for a longer visit. After awhile Mrs. Vernon left the anteroom and tripped lightly upstairs, moved softly past Rosamond’s door and down the long corridor to the wing in which Lillian’s room was situated.

Her face was pale with anger, the large, soft eyes were flashing indignantly, the small hands clinched as though she longed to strike some one.

“The hypocrite!” she muttered, softly; “he has just devoted himself to me of late. And he wrote me a letter in which he spoke of himself as fated to marry a woman whom he did not love, while his heart was attracted elsewhere, though he did not, of course, dare to say all that was in his mind. And now--now,” catching her breath hard, “he bursts in upon his father with the announcement of his marriage. Ah, Richard Raleigh, I will teach you a lesson! You shall learn that a woman’s friendship is not to be trifled with. How dared he make me believe all that foolish sentiment? I am provoked with myself for believing it. But I will pay him back for his falsehood--I declare I will!”

Poor little silly moth! She had singed her wings in the flame of flattery, and her vanity was suffering now, and her pride was horribly wounded.

She paused at the door of Lillian’s room and rapped lightly.

“Miss Leigh!” she cried, softly, through the key-hole--“I beg your pardon--Mrs. Raleigh--will you open the door just a moment? I have something of importance to say to you. It is I--Bessie Vernon.”

Wondering somewhat, for Lillian had never exchanged a dozen words with Mrs. Vernon in her life, she opened the door.

Bessie darted into the room.

“Hush!” she whispered, warningly; “do not speak a loud word. I have not a moment to waste, for I must get back to Rosamond. I have just learned of your marriage.” Lillian shuddered. “And I want to warn you. If Grafton Raleigh or his hopeful son try to get you to sign a paper--a legal document of some description--refuse to do it. Remain firm; do not be frightened into it. Go to some competent lawyer and tell him that these two men hold in their possession a document which I firmly believe to be a will, and which bequeaths property--I do not know how much--to one Lillian Leigh. The paper reads to the effect that the testator gives his all to his beloved niece, Lillian Leigh. Hush! I hear Rosamond! I have no time for further explanations. Good-night!” and she was gone, leaving Lillian in a perfect whirl of excitement.

The next morning Mrs. Raleigh was induced to go to Lillian’s room and accompany her down to breakfast. The meal was a constrained one, and Lillian was devoutly thankful when it was over. But, like everything in this world, it came to an end at last, and then Grafton Raleigh invited Lillian into the library. With pale face and compressed lips she followed him, while Richard brought up the rear.

Once in the library and the door closed, a strange chill passed over Lillian. She felt that a decisive moment had come. Grafton Raleigh led the way to the escritoire.

“My dear Lillian,” he began, taking a gold pen in a jeweled holder from the silver and ebony rack, “I would like to have you sign your name to a little business matter. You see, as a married woman you will be expected to sign deeds in conjunction with your husband. Richard is about to convey a piece of property, and he cannot legally do so without his wife’s signature. We have sent for a notary--Ah! there he is now,” as the door opened and a grave-looking man entered the room.

Two of the servants were summoned to act as witnesses.

Pale as marble, Lillian turned away.

“I can not sign any paper, Mr. Raleigh, without first knowing its contents,” she said, firmly. “My father taught me to read, understand, and weigh well any document to which I am requested to sign my name. Pardon me, but I must first read the paper.”

Richard snatched the document from the desk.

“You shall not read it!” he cried, angrily. “You are my wife, and must obey me. Sign your name, Lillian--there,” indicating a line.

“I will not. I must first know its contents. Besides, I have no right to sign business documents; I am not yet of age.”

The notary started in surprise.

“If this be true, I refuse to act in the matter,” he said. “Mr. Raleigh, there is some mistake here--suppose we postpone action for the present?”

And, smiling urbanely and bowing courteously, the little notary bowed himself out.

The servants returned to their duties, and Lillian stood facing her husband, alone.

“Curse you!” he muttered, harshly. “You little demon! you have ruined my father and blasted your own prospects as well. And all because you are heart-broken for the sake of Jack Lyndon. You think to spite me by this conduct, but you shall learn that I am master. Now, listen, madame, and you shall hear the whole truth. You have been duped--deceived--made a fool of. Jack Lyndon did not murder your father--and Jack Lyndon loves you as he loves his own soul. And--you are my wife!”