"I know he is. His every look and movement proclaims it. It is useless to deny that I am his father. Why do you want to put such a stigma upon the child?"

"I am telling you the truth. His father is dead, just as he told you."

"Then how do you account for his remarkable likeness to me?"

"Probably the dislike I had for you before he was born marked him with your features."

"Clarissa, I do not believe you. If I am not his father, who was?"

"That is nothing to you."

"Nothing to me? Are you mad?"

"No. I was never more sane in my life. I can look you straight in the eye, without the quiver of an eyelash, and say, you, William Huskins, are not the father of my boy. Can a person telling an untruth do that?

Would it be natural for a mother to acknowledge her child to be illegitimate, when she might presume upon a man's credulity to claim him as his son and heir, unless she wanted to be honest?"

"I can only account for your words by that fact."

As he spoke the words he moved toward her, and she kept receding, with her eyes fixed upon his. Paler and paler she grew, and larger and larger became the pupils of her eyes, which were gradually so dilated that they seemed to hide the other portions of them; still he gazed at her with an unwavering and stern expression till, finally, she clasped her right hand over her heart, and sank, without a word. She would have fallen prostrate upon the floor had not William sprung quickly to her as she fell.

Immediately he felt her helplessness, all the stern, steady look vanished from his face as though by magic, and in its place there shone all the eager ardor of a lover. Time and the memory of the past both seemed to have been obliterated from his mind, and he was conscious of but one fact. Clarissa, the only woman he had ever loved or who had ever held either his heart or senses captive, was again in his arms;--was his.

The thought made him tender and kind as a mother to her first born babe, whom she believes to be the answer vouchsafed to her prayers for a living example of her love for her husband; for this babe she would offer her life, a willing sacrifice, without one thought of hesitation, even if the sacrifice meant physical torture. Her love could generate the power necessary to endure any kind of personal torment if she knew her suffering would purchase the release or happiness of the child which was dearer to her than her own pleasure or welfare.

So William felt, when his arms encircled the object of his love, and he would gladly have endured any discomfort or suffering Clarissa had been subjected to while the combat of their wills had been waging. He realized as only a man whose experience had been as vast as his could realize, that her nervous condition, combined with the unexpected shock of his sudden appearance, had been a great ally to his cause, for without these, despite her naturally susceptible temperament, he would have had a severe struggle.

He lifted her easily and bore her to the couch from which she had arisen upon his entrance. She looked so white and rigid and still and cold--so much like one prepared for burial--that, despite his vast experience with mesmeric sleep, he felt anxious. He was loth to admit, even to himself, he was nervous--supposing she was dead! Supposing her spirit had actually fled, leaving him alone again:--deserted--while her soul was transported into conditions of which he knew nothing, and he could not reach her?

The thought was agonizing. He immediately drew her to him, thinking to warm her cold, inanimate body by contact with his own which was warm and vigorous. Those lips that had but a short time before responded so tenderly and lovingly to his were now cold and unresponsive. For a time, the scientist was lost, while the husband caressed, loved and suffered.

He kept repeating "Clarissa--Clarissa--Speak to me," and after a long interval of silence she spoke.

"Did you speak to me, William?"

If the voice of one dead had answered him, he would not have been more startled. The shock broke the spell that bound him, and the man of science was once more alert. He lifted her head, looked intently into her eyes, rather at her eyes which were closed, and said--

"Clarissa, do you hear me? Are you awake?"

There was a brief pause, then she replied, but her voice sounded far away. "Yes."

"Do you know who is talking to you?"

"Yes--William."

"Have you anything to say to me?"

No answer,--then he said timidly but tenderly, "Clarissa, do you love me?" No words pa.s.sed the cold, impa.s.sive lips, but her arms were raised and entwined themselves about his neck, and her head nestled lovingly and confidently against him. The answer seemed to satisfy him, and for a while, he made no effort to talk, apparently quaffing the enjoyment fate furnished him.--The past and future were a blank to him, and the present was fraught with such exquisite bliss, that he heeded not when Dinah spoke to him.

"Master William."

Not receiving an answer, she entered, spoke again, and not now receiving a reply, and seeing her mistress and him in so fond an embrace, she reverted to the rules of the past and touched him instead of speaking to Clarissa. He looked up at the touch and smiled so pleasantly it seemed they were all back in the past.

"Master William, the Doctor is here to see mistress. I have your dinner all prepared. What shall I tell him? He insists upon seeing her. I told him she was engaged. I would not come in. Do not look so cross, Master William, but he said he would have to see her, and you know she has great faith in him. Aint you, Honey?"

"Dinah, tell him to go."

"But, Master, he is waiting just outside here with Augustus."

"Augustus, my baby, mamma is coming,--mamma is coming."

As these words came from Clarissa's lips, William felt a great change pa.s.s over her. He had put her to sleep by his power, but she was no longer rigid, and her arms, which had clung so tightly and lovingly about his neck, loosed their hold, and warmth and animation diffused themselves to every portion of her being. She rose erectly and tried to waken, but encountered a mighty resistance.

"Tell the doctor to remain where he is. I will come to him," said William, while he tried to restrain Clarissa from rising.

"Sleep,--Sleep,--Sleep," he repeated, but his mind had been unsteadied by the happiness of thoughts of his brief intoxication. His commands seemed to have no significance for the woman who struggled to free herself from his grasp.

"Augustus--I am coming--mother hears." This was all she said, but it required all William's strength to hold her on the couch, and a feeling of jealousy (which he was at the time ashamed of feeling) overmastered him, and held him in thrall, and he repeated over and over again, "Sleep--Sleep--Sleep" his vigor increasing as his jealously gained the advantage over his judgment, and she finally collapsed into a comatose state.

Dinah had watched her struggles, but, feeling her mistress was in safe hands, had not interfered in her behalf, although she could not understand the purport of what she saw. When she saw her mistress settle back again, like one dead, she said--

"Master William, shall I show the Doctor in? She sure has fainted."

She received such a look from William as she was not likely to forget, and he replied:

"Dinah, your mistress is sleeping peacefully and well. Take me to the Doctor."

She offered no objections, but led him to a room where Augustus and a man of mature age were waiting. When he had reached there, William's eyes would have been a study for any man. He acknowledged the usual salutation of introduction, but his head was visibly elevated from the position it should have held considering the august presence of so distinguished a pract.i.tioner as Dr. Goullard;--in fact, he could not control his feelings sufficiently to remember they were both gentlemen, and said abruptly, "Dr. Goullard, your services are no longer required; I am here as Miss Earle's representative, and will at once discharge her obligations to you for services rendered if you will advise me as to the amount of her indebtedness."

"Who are you, who presume to represent Miss Earle? I only accept dismissal at her injunction. I demand to see her. If she bids me to visit her no more, very well, but I must receive some sign from her."

All the time Dr. Goullard was talking, William's face showed a scornful expression, and when he had finished, William said, "I presume her husband has some right to choose a physician?"

"Certainly," replied the Doctor quickly, "but Miss Earle's husband is dead, therefore, as she has called me regularly for a long time, I consider myself privileged to pa.s.s into her presence immediately."

"Not without my permission," replied William, and no person could have mistaken the meaning of his expression. The doctor looked at him interrogatively and he continued: "I presume you have heard of William Huskins, the scientific expert upon nervous difficulties, or diseases; I am he. I see you know of my reputation by your expression. Well, I am Miss Earle's husband. Ah, that startles you.--It is the truth.--I am this boy's father."

"I am acknowledged as an expert pract.i.tioner for difficulties and disorders of the nerves, consequently, my wife can have no further need of your services. Doubting my claims as husband to Miss Earle, and father to Augustus, you may refer to Dinah, who has been an attendant of Miss Earle since she was a young miss--"

"Prof. Huskins, I do not pretend to doubt your a.s.sertions, but you will, I think, admit that it was quite natural I should make the mistake, as I have been told by Miss Earle personally her husband was dead. I have attended her for some time, and I should be pleased to offer her my congratulations upon having so distinguished a husband as you. I will not long intrude upon the privacy of your glad reunion."

Williams' mind had cleared while the Doctor was speaking. He realized his conduct thus far had not been such as would naturally be expected from one of his reputation. He was too proud to apologize, still he knew some concession upon his part was necessary, and, throwing his head back with that impetuous movement Dinah knew so well, at the same time pushing the hair back from his forehead with his hand, he said, quickly and courteously, "My wife is sleeping now; I have just placed her in a trance condition, from which I shall awaken her shortly, calmed and refreshed, and much stronger. I will take you to her if you desire it."

"I should consider it a great favor for you to do so. I have heard much of your marvelous power, of which I must confess I know very little, but of which I should be pleased to learn more."

Without another word, William turned and walked from the apartment, followed by the Doctor, leaving Augustus and Dinah alone. While the men had been talking, Augustus' eyes had not left William's face. He made no effort to speak, now that William had gone, but fixed his gaze upon Dinah. She said nothing and there was a long silence.

Finally he said abruptly, "Dinah, _is_ he my father?"

"Yes, honey."