The Masked Bridal.

by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.

PROLOGUE.

The most important and the most sacred event in a woman's life is her marriage. It should never be lightly considered, no matter what may be the allurement--honor, wealth, social position. To play at marriage, even for a plausible pretext, is likely to be very imprudent, and may prove a sin against both G.o.d and man.

The story we are about to tell chiefly concerns a refined and beautiful girl who, for the ostensible entertainment of a number of guests, agreed to represent a bride in a play.

The chief actors, just for the sake of ill.u.s.trating a novel situation, and perhaps to excite curiosity among the spectators, were to have their faces concealed--it was to be a masked bridal.

Already the guests are a.s.sembled, and, amid slow and solemn music, the princ.i.p.als take their places.

The clergyman, enacted by a gentleman who performs his part with professional gravity and impressive effect, utters the solemn words calling for "any one who could show just cause why the two before him should not be joined in holy wedlock, to speak, or forever hold his peace."

At the sound of these words, the bride visibly shudders; but as she is masked, it can only be inferred that her features must indicate her intense emotion.

But why should she exhibit emotion in such a scene? Is it not a play?

She cannot be a clever actress when she forgets, at such a time, that it is the part of a bride--a willing bride--to appear supremely happy on such a joyous occasion.

It is strange, too, that as the bride shudders, the bridegroom's hand compresses hers with a sudden vigorous clutch, as if he feared to lose her, even at that moment.

Was it merely acting? Was this "stage business" really in the play? Or was it a little touch of nature, which could not be suppressed by the stage training of those inexperienced actors?

The play goes on; the entranced spectators are now all aroused from the apathy with which some of them had contemplated the opening part of the remarkable ceremony.

As the groom proceeds to place the ring upon the finger of the bride, she involuntarily resists, and tries to withdraw her hand from the clasp of her companion. There is an embarra.s.sing pause, and for an instant she appears about to succ.u.mb to a feeling of deadly faintness.

She rouses herself, however, determined to go on with her part.

Every movement is closely watched by one of the witnesses--a woman with glittering eye and pallid cheek. When the bride's repugnance seemed about to overmaster her, and perhaps result in a swoon, this woman gave utterance to a sigh almost of despair and with panting breath and steadfast gaze anxiously watched and waited for the end of the exciting drama.

The grave clergyman notices the bride's heroic efforts to restrain her agitation, and the ceremony proceeds. At length the solemn sentence is uttered which proclaims the masked couple man and wife.

Then there is a great surprise for the spectators.

As they behold the bride and groom, now unmasked, there is a stare of wonder in every face, and expressions of intense amazement are heard on all sides.

Then it dawns upon the witnesses that the princ.i.p.al actors in the play are not the persons first chosen to represent the parts of the bride and groom.

Why was a change made? What means the unannounced subst.i.tution of other actors in the exciting play?

Ask the woman who caused the change--the woman who, with pallid cheek and glittering eye, had intently watched every movement of the apparently reluctant bride, evidently fearing the failure of the play upon which she had set her heart.

It became painfully evident that the play was not ended yet, and some there present had reason to believe that it was likely to end in a tragedy.

Now let us portray the events which preceded the masked bridal.

CHAPTER I.

TWO UNEXPECTED VISITORS.

It was a cold, raw night in December, and the streets of New York city, despite their myriads of electric lights and gayly illuminated shop windows, were dismal and forlorn beyond description.

The sky was leaden. A piercing wind was blowing up from the East River, and great flakes of snow were beginning to fall, when, out of the darkness of a side street, there came the slight, graceful figure of a young girl, who, crossing Broadway, glided into the glare of the great arclight that was stationed directly opposite a p.a.w.nbroker's shop.

She halted a moment just outside the door, one slender, shabbily-gloved hand resting irresolutely upon its polished k.n.o.b, while an expression of mingled pain and disgust swept over her pale but singularly beautiful face.

Presently, however, she straightened herself, and throwing up her head with an air of resolution, she turned the k.n.o.b, pushed open the door, and entered the shop.

It was a large establishment of its kind, and upon every hand there were indications that that relentless master, Poverty, had been very busy about his work in the homes of the unfortunate, compelling his victims to sacrifice their dearest possessions to his avaricious grasp.

The young girl walked swiftly to the counter, behind which there stood a shrewd-faced Israelite, who was the only occupant of the place, and whose keen black eyes glittered with mingled admiration and cupidity as they fastened themselves upon the lovely face before him.

With an air of quiet dignity the girl lifted her glance to his, as she produced a ticket from the well-worn purse which she carried in her hand.

"I have come, sir, to redeem the watch upon which you loaned me three dollars last week," she remarked, as she laid the ticket upon the counter before him.

"Aha! an' so, miss, you vishes to redeem de vatch!" remarked the man, with a crafty smile, as he took up the ticket under pretense of examining it to make sure that it was the same that he had issued to her the week previous.

"Yes, sir."

"An' vat vill you redeem 'im mit?" he pursued, with a disagreeable leer.

"With the same amount that you advanced me, of course," gravely responded the girl.

"Ah! ve vill zee--ve vill zee! Vhere ish de money?" and the man extended a huge soiled hand to her.

"I have a five-dollar gold-piece here," she returned, as she took it from her purse and deposited it also upon the counter; for she shrank from coming in contact with that repulsive, unwashed hand.

The p.a.w.nbroker seized the coin greedily, his eyes gleaming hungrily at the sight of the yellow gold, while he examined it carefully to a.s.sure himself that it was genuine.

"So! so! you vill vant de vatch," he at length observed, in a sullen tone, as if he did not relish the idea of returning the valuable time-piece upon which he had advanced the paltry sum of three dollars.

"Vell!" and irritably pulling out a drawer as he spoke, he dropped the coin into it. "Ah!" he cried, with a sudden start and an angry frown, as it dropped with a ringing sound upon the wood, "vat you mean? You would sheat me!--you vould rob me! De money ish not goot--de coin ish counterfeit! I vill send for de officer--you shall pe arrested--you von little meek-faced robber! Ah!" he concluded, in a shrill tone of well-simulated anger, as he shook his fist menacingly before his companion.

The fair girl regarded him in frightened astonishment as he poured forth this torrent of wrathful abuse upon her, while her beautiful blue eyes dilated and her delicate lips quivered with repressed excitement.

"I do not understand you!--what do you mean, sir?" she at length demanded, when she could find voice for speech.

"You play de innocence very vell!" he sneered; then added, gruffly: "You vill not get der vatch, for you haf prought me bad money."

"You are mistaken, sir; I have just received that gold-piece from a respectable lawyer, for whom I have been working during the week, and I know he would not take advantage of me by paying me with counterfeit money," the young girl explained; but she had, nevertheless, grown very pale while speaking.