CHAPTER XXI.
IT IS SO HARD FOR A YOUNG GIRL TO FACE THE WORLD ALONE.
"Help! help!" the words echoed sharp and clear again through the frostymorning air, and this time the man walking hurriedly along the roadheard it distinctly, paused, and turned a very startled face toward theriver.
It required but a glance to take in the terrible situation; the younggirl stretched at full length on the ice, holding by main strength,something above the aperture in the ice; it was certainly a woman'shead.
"Courage, courage!" he cried in a voice like a bugle blast. "Help is athand! Hold on!" And in less time than it takes to tell it, he hadreached the girl's side.
"Save her, save her!" gasped Margaret Moore. "My hands are frozen; I cannot hold on any longer;" and with this she sunk back unconscious, andthe burden she held would have slipped from her cramped fingers backinto the dark, cold waves had not the stranger caught it in time. Itrequired all his strength, however, to draw the body, slim though itwas, from the water.
One glance at the marble-white face, and he uttered a little cry:
"Great Heaven! if it isn't Jessie Bain!"
Laying his dripping burden on the bank, the man lost no time indragging Margaret Moore back from her perilous position; then thestranger, who was a fisherman, summoned assistance, and the two younggirls were quickly carried back to the cottage, and a neighbor calledin.
Jessie was the first to recover consciousness. She had suffered aterrible shock, a severe chill, but the blood of youth bounded quicklyin her veins. Save a little fever, which was the natural result of thecounter-action, she was none the worse for her thrilling experience.
With Margaret Moore it was different. The doctor who had been called inshook his head gravely over her condition.
"It may be a very serious matter," he said, slowly; "it may result inboth hands having to be amputated, leaving her a cripple for life.Deranged and a cripple!" he added, pityingly, under his breath. "Itwould be better far if the poor thing were to die than to drag out theexistence marked out for her."
"You will do all that you possibly can to save her hands?" said CaptainCarr, anxiously.
"Yes, certainly," returned the doctor, "all that it is possible to do."
Jessie Bain's gratitude knew no bounds when she learned how near she hadcome to losing her life, and that she owed her rescue to the heroism offaithful Margaret Moore. She wept as she had never wept before when shediscovered how dearly it might cost poor Margaret.
Alas! how true it is that trouble never comes singly! At this crisis ofaffairs, Captain Carr suddenly succumbed to a malady that had beentroubling him for years, and Jessie Bain found herself thrown homeless,penniless upon the world. She was thankful that poor Margaret Moore didnot realize the calamity that had overtaken her. That humble cottageroof which had sheltered her so long would cover her head no more.
"There is only one thing to be done, and that is to place the girl in anasylum," the neighbors advised.
This Jessie Bain stoutly declared she never would do as long as she hadtwo hands to work for the unfortunate girl.
"I shall turn all my little possessions into money," she declared, "andgo immediately to New York City and find something to do. She shall gowith me and share my fortunes; my last crust of bread I will divide withher."
Every one thanked Heaven that by almost a miracle Margaret Moore's handswere saved to her.
A few days later Jessie Bain bid adieu forever to Fisher's Landing,accompanied by the girl who followed her so patiently out into theworld.
How strange it is that New York City is generally the objective pointfor the poor and friendless in search of employment.
The journey to the great metropolis was a long one. They reached therejust as the sun was sinking.
The first thing to be thought of was shelter. Inquiring in the drugstore opposite the depot, she found that there was a smallboarding-house down the first cross-street.
Jessie soon found the street and number to which she had been directed.A pleasant-faced maid opened the door. She was immediately shown intothe parlor, and a brisk, bustling little woman soon put in anappearance.
She looked curiously at the two pretty young girls when she learnedtheir errand.
"This is a theatrical boarding-place," she said, "and all of our roomsare full save two, and they are to be occupied on the twentieth. Youmight have them up to that time, I suppose," she added, unwilling to letthe chance of making a few extra dollars go by her. "Or perhaps you andyour sister could make the smaller one do for both."
"We could indeed!" eagerly assented Jessie.
She had noticed that the woman had called Margaret Moore her sister, andshe said to herself that perhaps it would be as well to let it go atthat, as it would certainly save much explanation.
And then again, if the landlady knew that her companion had lost herreason, she would never allow them to stay there over night, no matterhow harmless she might be.
Jessie started out bright and early the next morning to search foremployment, cautioning Margaret over and over again not to quit theroom, and to answer no questions that might be put to her. After thefirst day's experience, she returned, heartsick and discouraged, to theboarding-house.
"Didn't find anything to do, eh?" remarked the landlady,sympathetically, as she met her at the door.
"No," said Jessie; "but I hope to meet with better luck to-morrow."
"Why don't you try to get on the stage," said Mrs. Tracy, patting thegirl's shoulder. "You are young, and, to tell you the truth, you've anuncommonly pretty face."
"The stage?" echoed Jessie. "Why, I was never on the stage in all mylife. What could I do on the stage?"
"You would make your fortune," declared the woman, "if you were clever.And there's your sister, too, she is almost as pretty as yourself. She'dlike it, I am sure."
At that moment a woman who was passing hurriedly through the dimlylighted hall stopped short.
"What is this I hear, Mrs. Tracy?" she exclaimed. "Are you advising yournew boarders, those two pretty, young girls, to go on the stage?"
"Yes," returned the other. "They are looking for work, and drudgerywould be such hardship for them. And to tell the exact truth, ManagerMorgan of the Society Belle Company, who is stopping with me, told me hewould find a place in his company for her if she would leave her sisterand go out on the road; and, furthermore, that he would push her, andtake great pains in learning her all the stage business."
That evening, by his eager request, the manager was introduced to JessieBain.
He told a story so glowing, Jessie felt sorely tempted to accept hisoffer of a position on the stage. He promised her such a wonderful largesalary and such grand times that she was surprised. Jessie's onlyobjection in not accepting the offer was the thought that she should beparted from Margaret, which, the manager assured her, would have to be,as he had no room in his company for two.
"You can board her right here at Mrs. Tracy's," he suggested, "as yoursalary will be ample to pay for her. It is a chance that not one girlout of a thousand ever gets. You must realize that fact."
"Do you think I had better accept it, Mrs. Tracy?" asked Jessie.
"Indeed, I shouldn't hesitate," was the reply. "I'm not a theatricalperson myself, although I do keep this boarding-house for them, and Idon't know much about life behind the foot-lights, only as I hear themtell about it; but if I were in your place, it seems to me that I shouldaccept it. If you don't like it, or get something better, it's easyenough to make a change, you know."
Jessie took this view of the case, too, and she signed a contract withthe manager of the theatrical company.
"I hope I shall have a good part in the play," said Jessie, anxiously;"and, believe me, I will do my best to make it a success."
"Your face alone will insure that," said Manager Morgan, with a blandsmile that might have warned the girl. "I will cast you for the lovelyyoung heiress in the play. You will wear fine dresses and look charming.The
part will suit you exactly."
"But I have no fine clothes," said Jessie, much down-hearted.
"Do not let such a little matter as that trouble you, I pray," he saidgallantly. "I will advance you the required amount; you can pay me whenyou like."
Jessie said to herself that she had never met so kind a gentleman, andher gratitude was accordingly very great.
The next morning she was waited upon by a French _modiste_, who seemedto know just what she required, and a few days later, half a dozendresses, so gorgeous that they fairly took Jessie Bain's breath away,were sent up to her.
She tried to explain to Margaret, who had settled down into a strangeand unaccountable apathy, all about her wonderful good luck; but sheanswered her with only vacant monosyllables. And knowing that part ofthe truth must be told sooner or later, Jessie was forced to admit toMrs. Tracy that Margaret had lost her reason, but that she was by nomeans harmful.
"That is no secret to me," responded Mrs. Tracy. "Every one in theboarding-house thought that from the first day you came here, though youtried hard to hide her malady from us. And I repeat my offer, that youcan leave your sister in my charge, and I will do my very best for her.Let me tell you why," she added, in a low voice. "I had a daughter of myown once who looked very like your sister Margaret. She lost her reasonbecause of an unhappy love affair, and she drooped and died. For hersake my heart bleeds with pity for any young girl whose reason has beendethroned. God help her!"
So it was settled that Margaret was to remain with Mrs. Tracy.
"After a few rehearsals you will get to know what you have got to do,quite well," said Manager Morgan, as he handed Jessie her part to learn."Our company has been called together very hurriedly. We expected thatit would be fully a month later ere rehearsals would begin and ourmembers be called together. I have the same people who were with me lastyear, all save the young lady whose place you take, and they are allwell up in their parts and don't need rehearsals. We go out on the roadin one week more. I shall have to coach you in your part."
The handsome Mr. Morgan made himself most agreeable during those days ofrehearsal, and if Jessie Bain's heart had not been entirely frozen bythe frost of that earlier love for Hubert Varrick, which had come tosuch a bitter ending, she might have fancied this handsome, dandifiedmanager.
The company were to open their season at Albany, and at last the dayarrived for Mr. Morgan and Jessie to start.
There was to be just one rehearsal the following forenoon, and the nextevening the play was to be produced.
It was a bitter trial for Jessie to leave Margaret alone there; but thebitterest blow of all was that she could not make Margaret understandthat they were to be separated from each other for many long weeks.
It was snowing hard when the train steamed into Albany. Mr. Morgan, whohad gone up by an earlier train, met her at the depot.
"We will go right to the theater," he said; "the remainder of thecompany are there; they are all waiting for us."
Jessie felt a little disappointed at not getting a cup of good hot tea;but she was too timid to mention it.
A dozen or more faces were eagerly turned toward them when they enteredthe theater. Four very much over-dressed young women, sitting in a groupand laughing rather hilariously, and half a dozen long-ulstered,curly-mustached _blase_-appearing gentlemen, stared boldly at the timid,shrinking young girl whom Manager Morgan led forward.
"Our new leading lady, Miss Jessie Bain," he announced, briefly; addingquickly after this general introduction: "Clear the stage every one whois not discovered in the first act."
The way these gentlemen and ladies fairly flew into the wings astonishedJessie. They acted more like frightened children, afraid of aschool-master than like ladies and gentlemen who were great heroes andheroines of the drama. Jessie stood quite still, not a littlebewildered.
"Excuse me; but were you ever on before?" asked one of the girls, eyeingJessie curiously.
"No," she answered; "but I do hope I will get along. I am very anxiousto learn."
At this there was a great deal of suppressed tittering, which rathernettled Jessie.
"You must have wonderful confidence in yourself to attempt to play yourpart to-night, with only this one rehearsal. Aren't you afraid you willget stage-frightened?"
"I used to take part in all the entertainments that we used to give athome in the little village I came from. Once I had a very long part, andI always had an excellent memory."
"Let me give you a little word of advice," said the girl, who introducedherself as Mally Marsh, linking her arm in Jessie's and drawing herinto one of the dark recesses of the wings, where they were quite alonetogether. "Did you see the girl in the sealskin coat who sat at my rightas you came up? I want to tell you about her."