CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Pluma Hurlhurst received her father's summons with no little surprise."What can that foolish old man want, I wonder?" she soliloquized,clasping the diamond-studded bracelets on her perfect arms. "I shallbe heartily glad when I am Rex Lyon's wife. I shall soon tell him,then, in pretty plain words, I am not at his beck and call any longer.Come to him instantly, indeed! I shall certainly do no such thing,"she muttered.
"Did you speak, mademoiselle?" asked the maid.
"No," replied Pluma, glancing at the little jeweled watch thatglittered in its snow-white velvet case. She took it up with acaressing movement. "How foolish I was to work myself up into such afury of excitement, when Rex sent for me to present me with thejewels!" she laughed, softly, laying down the watch, and taking up anexquisite jeweled necklace, admired the purity and beauty of the soft,white, gleaming stones.
The turret-bell had pealed the hour of eight; she had yet half anhour.
She never could tell what impulse prompted her to clasp the shininggems around her white throat, even before she had removed herdressing-robe.
She leaned back dreamily in her cushioned chair, watching the effectin the mirror opposite.
Steadfastly she gazed at the wondrous loveliness of the picture shemade, the dark, lustrous eyes, gleaming with unwonted brilliancy, withtheir jetty fringe; the rich, red lips, and glowing cheeks.
"There are few such faces in the world," she told herself triumphantly.
Those were the happiest moments proud, peerless Pluma Hurlhurst wasever to know--"before the hour should wane the fruition of all herhopes would be attained."
No feeling of remorse stole over her to imbitter the sweets of hertriumphant thoughts.
She had lived in a world of her own, planning and scheming, wastingher youth, her beauty, and her genius, to accomplish the one greatultimatum--winning Rex Lyon's love.
She took from her bosom a tiny vial, containing a few white, flakycrystals. "I shall not need this now," she told herself. "If LesterStanwick had intended to interfere he would have done so ere this; hehas left me to myself, realizing his threats were all in vain; yet Ihave been sore afraid. Rex will never know that I lied and schemed towin his love, or that I planned the removal of Daisy Brooks from hispath so cleverly; he will never know that I have deceived him, or thewretched story of my folly and passionate, perilous love. I could nothave borne the shame and the exposure; there would have been but oneescape"--quite unconsciously she slid the vial into the pocket of hersilken robe--"I have lived a coward's life; I should have died acoward's death."
"It is time to commence arranging your toilet, mademoiselle," said themaid, approaching her softly with the white glimmering satin robe, andfleecy veil over her arm. "My fingers are deft, but you have not onemoment to spare."
Pluma waved her off with an imperious gesture.
"Not yet," she said. "I suppose I might as well go down first as lastto see what in the world he wants with me; he should have come to meif he had wished to see me so very particularly;" and the dutifuldaughter, throwing the train of her dress carelessly over her arm,walked swiftly through the brilliantly lighted corridor toward BasilHurlhurst's study. She turned the knob and entered. The room wasapparently deserted. "Not here!" she muttered, with surprise. "Well,my dear, capricious father, I shall go straight back to my apartments.You shall come to me hereafter." As she turned to retrace her steps ahand was laid upon her shoulder, and a woman's voice whispered closeto her ear:
"I was almost afraid I should miss you--fate is kind."
Pluma Hurlhurst recoiled from the touch, fairly holding her breath,speechless with fury and astonishment.
"You insolent creature!" she cried. "I wonder at your boldness inforcing your presence upon me. Did I not have you thrust from thehouse an hour ago, with the full understanding I would not see you, nomatter who you were or whom you wanted."
"I was not at the door an hour ago," replied the woman, coolly; "itmust have been some one else. I have been here--to WhitestoneHall--several times before, but you have always eluded me. You shallnot do so to-night. You shall listen to what I have come to say toyou."
For once in her life the haughty, willful heiress was completely takenaback, and she sunk into the arm-chair so lately occupied by BasilHurlhurst.
"I shall ring for the servants, and have you thrown from the house;such impudence is unheard of, you miserable creature!"
She made a movement toward the bell-rope, but the woman hastily thrusther back into her seat, crossed over, turned the key in the lock, andhastily removed it. Basil Hurlhurst and John Brooks were about to rushto her assistance, but the detective suddenly thrust them back,holding up his hand warningly.
"Not yet," he whispered; "we will wait until we know what this strangeaffair means. I shall request you both to remain perfectly quiet untilby word or signal I advise you to act differently."
And, breathless with interest, the three, divided only by the silkenhanging curtains, awaited eagerly further developments of the strangescene being enacted before them.
Pluma's eyes flashed like ebony fires, and unrestrained passion waswritten on every feature of her face, as the woman took her positiondirectly in front of her with folded arms, and dark eyes gleamingquite as strangely as her own. Pluma, through sheer astonishment ather peculiar, deliberate manner, was hushed into strange expectancy.
For some moments the woman gazed into her face, coolly--deliberately--hereyes fastening themselves on the diamond necklace which clasped herthroat, quivering with a thousand gleaming lights.
"You are well cared for," she said, with a harsh, grating laugh, thatvibrated strangely on the girl's ear. "You have the good things oflife, while I have only the hardships. I am a fool to endure it. Ihave come to you to-night to help me--and you must do it."
"Put the key in that door instantly, or I shall cry out forassistance. I have heard of insolence of beggars, but certainly thisis beyond all imagination. How dare you force your obnoxious presenceupon me? I will not listen to another word; you shall suffer for thisoutrage, woman! Open the door instantly, I say."
She did not proceed any further in her breathless defiance of retort;the woman coolly interrupted her with that strange, grating laughagain, as she answered, authoritatively:
"I shall not play at cross-purposes with you any longer; it is plainlyevident there is little affection lost between us. You will do exactlyas I say, Pluma; you may spare yourself a great deal that may beunpleasant--if you not only listen but quietly obey me. Otherwise--"
Pluma sprung wildly to her feet.
"Obey you! obey you!"
She would have screamed the words in her ungovernable rage, had not alook from this woman's eyes, who used her name with such ill-bredfamiliarity, actually frightened her.
"Be sensible and listen to what I intend you shall hear, and, as Isaid and repeat, obey. You have made a slight mistake in defying me,young lady. I hoped and intended to be your friend and adviser; butsince you have taken it into your head to show such an aversion to me,it will be so much the worse for you, for I fully intend you shall acthereafter under my instructions; it has spoiled you allowing you tohold the reins in your own hands unchecked."
"Oh, you horrible creature! I shall have you arrested and--"
The woman interrupted her gasping, vindictive words again, moreimperiously than before.
"Hush! not another word; you will not tell any one a syllable of whathas passed in this room."
"Do you dare threaten me in my own house," cried Pluma, fairly besideherself with passion. "I begin to believe you are not aware to whomyou are speaking. You shall not force me to listen. I shall raise thewindow and cry out to the guests below."
"Very well, then. I find I am compelled to tell you something I neverintended you should know--something that, unless I am greatly mistakenin my estimate of you, will change your high and mighty notionsaltogether."
The woman was bending so near her, her breath almost scorched herch
eek.
"I want money," she said, her thin lips quivering in an evil smile,"and it is but right that you should supply me with it. Look at thediamonds, representing a fortune, gleaming on your throat, while I amlacking the necessaries of life."
"What is that to me?" cried Pluma, scornfully. "Allow me to pass fromthe room, and I will send my maid back to you with a twenty-dollarnote. My moments are precious; do not detain me."
The woman laughed contemptuously.
"Twenty dollars, indeed!" she sneered, mockingly. "Twenty thousandwill not answer my purpose. From this time forth I intend to live asbefits a lady. I want that necklace you are wearing, as security thatyou will produce the required sum for me before to-morrow night."
The coarse proposal amazed Pluma.
"I thought Whitestone Hall especially guarded against thieves," shesaid, steadily. "You seem to be a desperate woman; but I, PlumaHurlhurst, do not fear you. We will pass over the remarks you havejust uttered as simply beyond discussion."
With a swift, gliding motion she attempted to reach the bell-rope.Again the woman intercepted her.
"Arouse the household if you dare!" hissed the woman, tightening herhold upon the white arm upon which the jewels flashed and quivered."If Basil Hurlhurst knew what I know you would be driven from thishouse before an hour had passed."
"I--I--do not know what you mean," gasped Pluma, her great courage andfortitude sinking before this woman's fearlessness and defiantauthority.
"No, you don't know what I mean; and little you thank me for carryingthe treacherous secret since almost the hour of your birth. It is timefor you to know the truth at last. You are not the heiress ofWhitestone Hall--you are not Basil Hurlhurst's child!"
Pluma's face grew deathly white; a strange mist seemed gatheringbefore her.
"I can not--seem--to--grasp--what you mean, or who you are to terrifyme so."
A mocking smile played about the woman's lips as she replied, in aslow, even, distinct voice:
"I am your mother, Pluma!"