The Castle of Doubt
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CASTLE DOUBT JOHN H, WHITSON THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE CASTLE OF DOUBT THE Castle of Doubt BY JOHN H. WHITSON AUTHOR OF "THE RAINBOW CHASERS," "BARBARA,, A WOMAN OF THE WEST," ETC. With a Frontispiece in Color from a Drawing by I. H. Caliga Boston Little, Brown, and Company 1907 Copyright, 1907, BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. All rights reserved Published May 1907 8. J. PAEKHFLI, & Co., BOSTON, U. 8. A, 'PS' "For Lovers were Liars ever." OLD SONG. 1521425 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY i II. I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 14 III. IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 22 IV. THE DISSEMBLER 37 V. BACK FROM THE DEAD 51 VI. WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 63 VII. IN THE FOOL'S PARADISE 73 VIII. INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 79 IX. THE RECEPTION 95 X. COURTNEY LANE THREATENS in XI. POWDER IN MY PISTOL 117 XII. ASBURY RAND 125 XIII. THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 131 XIV. PURSUED 147 XV. "WAS EVERWOMAN IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED ?" 163 XVI. THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 173 XVII. UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 183 XVIII. DISQUIETING FEARS 193 v CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XIX. MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 203 XX. A DECLARATION OF WAR 218 XXI. THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 229 XXII. A HERO TO HIS MASTER 242 XXIII. CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 256 XXIV. A METAMORPHOSED PAST 268 XXV. LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 2/5 VI The Castle of Doubt A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY "TULIAN!" A witching voice called the name, and a witching face looked out at me from the carriage that had drawn up at the curb. I had observed the carriage but a moment before one of those brilliant equipages that roll so noiselessly along the driveways of Cen tral Park that you hear only the rhythmical tattoo of the hoofs of the shining horses. One who is still reasonably young and im pressionable may I think be pardoned a quick ening of the pulse-beats when addressed in that way by the possessor of such a voice and face, even though he has no recollection of ever having heard the one or seen the other, and his name is not Julian. In addition, the spirit of Spring, which puts a fuller crimson on the robin's breast, had touched the world and me. I had been feeling its jaunty lightness and bubbling effervescence, THE CASTLE OF DOUBT and the earth seemed young, in spite of the fact that I had that very morning spent a whole half-hour pondering by the big Egyptian obelisk and trying to make myself feel that the world is very, very old indeed. Hence, when that voice and those eyes called to me I was ready to accept their invitation. There were two young women in the carriage. The driver had brought the horses up with a sharp turn and the footman had leaped to the ground. There was laughing delight in the eyes of the Nymphs, I was sure. Or were they Sirens, rather than Nymphs ? The tang of the air, the flashing of sunlight on the polished green of leaves, the crunch of stamping hoofs, a bird-note in the near-by branches, and the beckoning of a musical voice and of moist blue eyes! Romance still disports itself as freely as when Cleopatra put rouge on her olive cheeks and steered her purple-sailed and scented galleys out to meet Antony. Antony yielded, as mere man always does when lovely woman stoops to conquer, and as I am quite ready to confess that I did in this instance. "Julian!" the voice called again, more in sistent. "Yes ?" I answered, lifting my hat and step ping lightly toward the carriage. A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY "Julian, this is delightful! Come, please, before people begin to stare at us." It was the nymph with the eyes of blue who said this. The other was a nut-brown maid a trifle younger, with a general "tan" effect which extended from her gloves to her cheeks. I thought she was laughing roguishly. In the eyes of blue was a look I could not fathom; yet, to my surprise, I fancied I detected a tear. At the moment the whole thing seemed a part of a play, such as I had witnessed the night before in one of the metropolitan theatres. I was not quite prepared for what followed. One never is, I think, when the happening falls the least bit out of the ordinary. The footman gave me a push and a lift, just as if he were a kidnapper and I the child of a millionaire pork packer worth a fabulous ran som. This was so unexpected that I fairly fell into the carriage, and into the lap of the nymph with the eyes of blue. Then my heart leaped; for she put her arms round my neck and began to kiss me with a rapture surpassing that of the most emotional of actresses. "I think I shall enjoy this immensely, if you will but give me breathing space," I said, be wildered, yet determined to carry it off as lightly as I could. THE CASTLE OF DOUBT "How could you? How could you?" she demanded. "My recollection assures me that I was as sisted," was my answer, as I placed myself in an easier and more satisfying posture. "But, then, such assistance is a delight. Where is the Castle?" "The Castle?" "To which I am now to be taken. I think you must be the Princess I saw in the play last night, and I the Wounded Knight. Of course you will treat me well when you get me there! But I can stand even a donjon-keep, I assure you, if you will but stay close by me." I freed myself and looked at Her. But for the brilliant flush of her cheeks, her face was white, too white, due I thought to the sombre hue of her clothing. "What, crying?" I said. "Forgive my lev can't to take this ity. You expect me thing seriously, though. And for Heaven's sake, tell me just what is the meaning of our play-acting ? I am willing to be Knight (Wounded, or other wise) to two such charming Princesses. And I admit I am hard hit, if not sorely wounded. But even a Wounded Knight may be allowed curiosity." "Julian, this is not play-acting!" A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY "No?" "Certainly not." "Then what is it?" "We are taking you home." I sat up straighter and looked at her even more intently. My face must have revealed the puzzled state of my mind. "And now that I have found you, you shall never, never go away again]" she declared. I gasped my amazement. "Home!" cried the Adorable One to the in driver, a voice of liquid sweetness. (It was really liquid she was crying!) The horses gave a jump, the carnage swung round, and we were rolling swiftly toward the city. My emotions ran the gamut. The jerk of the carriage had thrown me heavily against the cushions, and the woman who had captured me (I felt at the moment that I had been captured) was declaring what wild nonsense I knew not. I was aware that the other nymph was utter ing sundry ejaculations that seemed almost hysterical, but she at least did not throw her arms round my neck and kiss me! "I don't know that I ought to object to this, since it is so pleasant," I said, trying hard to be humorous. "Still, if I may be permitted a THE CASTLE OF DOUBT question, I should be pleased, like the con gressman of refreshing memory, to know just 'where we are at* ?" "Julian," She answered, "we can't discuss the I I matter now. think understand." (I was sure I did not!) "You are my husband, and you are going home with me." Good Heavens! Her husband! I gave a jump of astonishment. "Of course I am nothing of the kind," I re plied. "You must have a reason, though, for saying it. And also, of course, it is a weighty one." But my levity had grown a little heavy. "I have the best of reasons. It is true. And you are going home with me." "And then what?" I asked. "You are to remain with me forever and ever." "But if," I cried "if you discover that I am not your husband that this is a mistake ? I haven't the pleasure at this moment of being the husband of any woman. It is my loss, I " know, and "We will not discuss the matter, Julian!" Though sweet and kindly, the tone was final. "Julian what?" I asked irrelevantly, when shunted thus into a side-track. A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY "Randolph, of course. Have you forgotten your own name?" "If that is my name, I certainly have," I answered. "The last time I took stock of my personal belongings my name was Louis Ar- mitage." "I think I understand," she said, calmly. I stared at her, and at the girl of tan who was abetting her. Again for the moment I was sure I had been chosen as the hero of some little comedy whose denouement I could not guess. "Very well," I said, once more trying to be humorous. "Does Sherry's lie at the end of " the road, or does "I think I said that we are going home, Julian." We were soon rolling through the vista of brownstone mansions on Upper Fifth Avenue.