"No, not that I know of; Heaven forbid!" said Ina. "But there is something very dreadful: there is gambling. He has a passion for it, and I fear I wearied him by my remonstrances. He dragged me about from one gambling-place to another, and I saw that if I resisted he would go without me. He lost a fortune while we were together, and I do really believe he is ruined, poor dear."Ashmead suppressed all signs of ill-temper, and asked, grimly, "Did he quarrel with you, then?""Oh, no; he never said an unkind word to me; and I was not always so forbearing, for I passed months of torment. I saw that affection, which was my all, gliding gradually away from me; and the tortured will cry out. I am not an ungoverned woman, but sometimes the agony was intolerable, and I complained. Well, that agony, I long for it back; for now I am desolate.""Poor soul! How could a man have the heart to leave you? how could he have the face?""Oh, he did not do it shamelessly. He left me for a week, to visit friends in England. But he wrote to me from London. He had left me at Berlin. He said that he did not like to tell me before parting, but Imust not expect to see him for six weeks; and he desired me to go to my mother in Denmark. He would send his next letter to me there. Ah! he knew I should need my mother when his second letter came. He had planned it all, that the blow might not kill me. He wrote to tell me he was a ruined man, and he was too proud to let me support him: he begged my pardon for his love, for his desertion, for ever having crossed my brilliant path like a dark cloud. He praised me, he thanked me, he blessed me; but he left me. It was a beautiful letter, but it was the death-warrant of my heart. I was abandoned."Ashmead started up and walked very briskly, with a great appearance of business requiring vast dispatch, to the other end of the _salle;_ and there, being out of Ina's hearing, he spoke his mind to a candlestick with three branches. "D--n him! Heartless, sentimental scoundrel! D--n him! D--n him!"Having relieved his mind with this pious ejaculation, he returned to Ina at a reasonable pace and much relieved, and was now enabled to say, cheerfully, "Let us take a business view of it. He is gone--gone of his own accord. Give him your blessing--I have given him mine--and forget him.""Forget him! Never while I live. Is that your advice? Oh, Mr. Ashmead!
And the moment I saw your friendly face, I said to myself, 'I am no longer alone: here is one that will help me.'""And so I will, you may be sure of that," said Ashmead, eagerly. "What is the business?""The business is to find him. That is the first thing.""But he is in England."
"Oh, no; that was eight months ago. He could not stay eight months in any country; besides, there are no gambling-houses there.""And have you been eight months searching Europe for this madman?""No. At first pride and anger were strong, and I said, 'Here I stay till he comes back to me and to his senses.'""Brava!"
"Yes; but month after month went by, carrying away my pride and my anger, and leaving my affection undiminished. At last I could bear it no longer;so, as he would not come to his senses--""You took leave of yours, and came out on a wild-goose chase," said Ashmead, but too regretfully to affront her.
"It _was,"_ said Ina; "I feel it. But it is not one _now,_ because I have _you_ to assist me with your experience and ability. You will find him for me, somehow or other. I know you will."Let a woman have ever so little guile, she must have tact, if she is a true woman. Now, tact, if its etymology is to be trusted, implies a fine sense and power of touch; so, in virtue of her sex, she pats a horse before she rides him, and a man before she drives him. There, ladies, there is an indictment in two counts; traverse either of them if you can.
Joseph Ashmead, thus delicately but effectually manipulated, swelled with gratified vanity and said, "You are quite right; you can't do this sort of thing yourself; you want an agent.""Of course I do."
"Well, you have got one. Now let me see--fifty to one he is not at Homburg at all. If he is, he most likely stays at Frankfort. He is a swell, is he not?""Swell!" said the Anglo-Dane, puzzled. "Not that I am aware of." She was strictly on her guard against vituperation of her beloved scamp.
"Pooh, pooh!" said Ashmead; "of course he is, and not the sort to lodge in Homburg.""Then behold my incompetence!" said Ina.
"But _the_ place to look for him is the gambling-saloon. Been there?""Oh, no."
"Then you must."
"What! Me! Alone?"
"No; with your agent."
"Oh, my friend; I said you would find him.""What a woman! She will have it he is in Homburg. And suppose we do find him, and you should not be welcome?""I shall not be unwelcome. _I shall be a change."_"Shall I tell you how to draw him to Homburg, wherever he is?" said Ashmead, very demurely.
"Yes, tell me that."
"And do _me_ a good turn into the bargain.""Is it possible? Can I be so fortunate?"
"Yes; and _as you say,_ it _is_ a slice of luck to be able to kill two birds with one stone. Why, consider--the way to recover a man is not to run after him, but to make him run to you. It is like catching moths; you don't run out into the garden after them; you light the candle and open the window, and _they_ do the rest--as he will.""Yes, yes; but what am I to do for _you?"_ asked Ina, getting a little uneasy and suspicious.
"What! didn't I tell you?" said Ashmead, with cool effrontery. "Why, only to sing for me in this little opera, that is all." And he put his hands in his pockets, and awaited thunder-claps.
"Oh, that is all, is it?" said Ina, panting a little, and turning two great, reproachful eyes on him.
"That is all," said he, stoutly. "Why, what attracted him at first?
