suggestion will, I fear, strike you as curious,” he added. “But in this matter there must be no hesitation on our part; it must be accomplished to-day.”
“Then it is, I take it, a matter of life or death?”
There was a brief silence, broken only by the low ticking of the marble clock upon the mantelshelf.
“Of death,” he answered in a low, strained tone. “Of death, rather than of life.”
I held my breath. My countenance must have undergone a change, and this did not escape his observant eyes, for he added —
“Before we go further, I would ask you, doctor, to regard this interview as strictly confidential.”
“It shall be entirely as you wish,” I stammered.
The atmosphere of the room seemed suddenly oppressive, my head was in a whirl, and I wanted to get away from the presence of my tempter.
“Good,” he said, apparently reassured. “Then we can advance a step further. I observed just now that you were a bachelor, and you did not contradict me.”
“I am a bachelor, and have no intention of marrying.”
“Not for ten thousand pounds?” he inquired.
“I’ve never yet met a woman whom I could love sufficiently,” I told him quite plainly.
“But is your name so very valuable to you that you would hesitate to bestow it upon a woman for a single hour – even though you were a widower before sunset?”
“A widower before sunset?” I echoed. “You speak in enigmas. If you were plainer in your words I might comprehend your meaning.”
“Briefly, my meaning is this,” he said, in a firmer voice, after pausing, as though to gauge my strength of character. “Upstairs in this house my daughter is ill – she is not confined to her bed, but she is nevertheless dying. Two doctors have attended her for several weeks, and to-day in consultation have pronounced her beyond hope of recovery. Before being struck down by disease, she was hopelessly in love with a man whom I believed to be worthless – a man whose name they told me was synonymous with all that is evil in human nature. She was passionately fond of him, and her love very nearly resulted in a terrible tragedy. Through the weeks of her delirium she has constantly called his name. Her every thought has been of him; and now, in these her last moments, I am filled with remorse that I did not endeavour to reclaim him and allow them to marry. He is no longer in England, otherwise I would unite them. The suggestion I have to make to you is that you should assume that man’s place and marry my daughter.”
“Marry her!” I gasped.
“Yes. Not being in possession of all her faculties, she will, therefore, not distinguish between her true lover and yourself. She will believe herself married to him, and her last moments will be rendered happy.”
I did not reply. The suggestion held me dumbfounded.
“I know that the proposal is a very extraordinary one,” he went on, his voice trembling in deep earnestness, “but I make it to you in desperation. By my own ill-advised action and interference, Beryl, my only child, is dying, and I am determined, if possible, to bring peace to her poor unbalanced mind in these the last hours of her existence. My remorse is bitter, God knows! It is little that I can do in the way of atonement, save to convince her of my forgiveness.”
His face, as he bent forward to me at that moment, came, for the first time, within the broad bar of sunlight that fell between us, and I saw how white and haggard it was. The countenance was no longer that of a haughty man, but of one rendered desperate.
“I fear that in this matter it is beyond my power to assist you,” I said, stirring myself at last. Truth to tell, his proposal was so staggering that I inclined to the belief that he himself was not quite right in his mind. The curious light in his eyes strengthened this suspicion.
“You will not help me?” he cried starting up.
“You will not assist in bringing happiness to my poor girl in her dying hour?”
“I will be no party to such a flagrant fraud as you propose,” I responded quietly.
“The sum insufficient – eh! Well, I’ll double it. Let us say twenty thousand.”
“And the marriage you suggest is, I presume, to be a mock one?”
“A mock one? No, a real and binding one – entirely legal,” he responded. “A marriage in church.”
“Would not a mock one be just as effective in the mind of the unfortunate young lady?” I suggested.
“No, there are reasons why a legal marriage should take place,” he answered distinctly.
“And they are?”
“Ah! upon that point I regret that I cannot satisfy you,” he answered. “Is not twenty thousand pounds sufficient to satisfy you, without asking questions?”
“But I cannot see how a legal marriage can take place,” I queried. “There are surely formalities to be observed.”
“Leave them all to me,” he answered quickly. “Rest assured that I have overlooked no detail in this affair. A mock marriage would, of course, have been easy enough; but I intend that Beryl shall be legally wedded, and for the service rendered me by becoming her husband I am prepared to pay you twenty thousand pounds the instant the ceremony is concluded.”
Then, unlocking a drawer in his writing-table, he drew forth a large bundle of notes secured by an elastic band, which he held towards me, saying —
“These are yours if you care to accept my offer.”
I glanced at the thick square packet of crisp notes, and saw that each was for one hundred pounds. My eyes wandered to the Tempter’s face. The look I saw there startled me. Was he actually the devil in human guise?
He noticed the quick start I gave, and instantly his features relaxed into a smile.
“I cannot see what possible ground you can have for scruples,” he said. “To deceive a dying girl in order to render her last moments happy is surely admissible. Come, render me this trifling service.”
And thus he persuaded and cajoled me, tempting me with the money in his hand to sell my name. Reader, place yourself in my position for a moment. I might, I reflected, slave through all my life, and never become possessed of such a sum. I was not avaricious, far from it; yet with twenty thousand pounds I could gain the zenith of my ambition, and lead the quiet, even life that had so long been my ideal. I strove to shut my ears to the persuasive words of the Tempter, but could not. The service was not a very great one, after all. The woman who was to be my wife was dying. In a few hours, at most, I should be free again, and our contract would remain for ever a secret.
The sight of that money – money with a curse upon it, money that, had I known the truth, I would have flung into the grate and burned rather than suffer its contact with my hand – decided me. Reader, can you wonder at it? I was desperately in want of money, and, throwing my natural caution and discretion to the winds, I yielded. Yes, I yielded.
The Tempter drew a distinct sigh of relief. His sinister face, so thin that I could trace the bones beneath the white, tightly-stretched skin, grinned in satisfaction,
