And as she was thus borne to the Temple, there was a woman watching by the bedside of an old man, in one of the chambers of the Broadway mansion,--Eleanor watching while her father slept.
Her night-dress hung in loose folds about her noble form, as she arose and held the dim light nearer to his gray hairs. There was agony stamped upon his face, even as he slept--an agony which was reflected in the pallid face and tremulous lips of his daughter.
"He sleeps!" she exclaimed in a low voice: "Little does he fancy that I know the fearful history which this night fell from his lips. And this night, before he retired to rest, he clasped me to his bosom, and said--" she blushed in neck and cheek and brow,--"that it was the dearest wish of his heart, that I should be united to Randolph."
She kissed him gently on the brow, and crept noiselessly to her own room, and soon was asleep, the image of Randolph prominent in her dreams.
Leaving Randolph, his sister, and those connected with their fate, our history now turns to other characters.
Let us enter the house of the merchant prince.
It was near eleven o'clock, on the night of December 23d, 1844, when Evelyn Somers, Sen., sitting in his library by the light of the shaded candle, was startled by the ringing of the bell.
"The front door-bell!" he ejaculated, looking up from his labors, until the candle shone full upon his thin features and low forehead. "Can it be Evelyn? Oh! I forgot. He returned only this evening. One of the servants, I suppose--been out late--must look to this in the morning."
He resumed his pen, and again, surrounded by title-deeds and mortgages, bent down to his labors.
So deeply was he absorbed that he did not hear the opening of the front door, followed by a footstep in the hall. Nor did he hear the stealthy opening of the door of the library; much less did he see the burly figure which advanced on tiptoe to his table.
"Be calm!" said a gruff voice, and a hand was laid on his shoulder.
"Hey! What? Who,--who--are--you?" The merchant prince started in his chair, and beheld a burly form enveloped in a bear-skin overcoat and full-moon face, spotted with carbuncles.
"Be calm!" said the owner of the face, in a hoarse voice. "There's no occasion to alarm yourself. These things will happen."