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diff --git a/1167-0.txt b/1167-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a06474 --- /dev/null +++ b/1167-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5398 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1167 *** + +A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE + +By Anna Katharine Green + + + +OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR + + The House of the Whispering Pines Miss Hurd. An Enigma + Leavenworth Case That Affair Next Door + Strange Disappearance Lost Man’s Lane + Sword of Damocles Agatha Webb + Hand and Ring One of My Sons + The Mill Mystery Defence of the Bride, + Behind Closed Doors and Other Poems + Cynthia Wakeham’s Money Risifi’s Daughter. A Drama + Marked “Personal” The Golden Slipper + To the Minute + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I A NOVEL CASE + CHAPTER II A FEW POINTS + CHAPTER III THE CONTENTS OF A BUREAU DRAWER + CHAPTER IV THOMPSON’S STORY + CHAPTER V A NEW YORK BELLE + CHAPTER VI A BIT OF CALICO + CHAPTER VII THE HOUSE AT THE GRANBY CROSS ROADS + CHAPTER VIII A WORD OVERHEARD + CHAPTER IX A FEW GOLDEN HAIRS + CHAPTER X THE SECRET OF MR. BLAKE’S STUDIO + CHAPTER XI LUTTRA + CHAPTER XII A WOMAN’S LOVE + CHAPTER XIII A MAN’S HEART + CHAPTER XIV MRS. DANIELS + CHAPTER XV A CONFAB + CHAPTER XVI THE MARK OF THE RED CROSS + CHAPTER XVII THE CAPTURE + CHAPTER XVIII LOVE AND DUTY + CHAPTER XIX EXPLANATIONS + CHAPTER XX THE BOND THAT UNITES + + + + +A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE + + + +CHAPTER I. A NOVEL CASE + + +“Talking of sudden disappearances the one you mention of Hannah in that +Leavenworth case of ours, is not the only remarkable one which has come +under my direct notice. Indeed, I know of another that in some respects, +at least, surpasses that in points of interest, and if you will promise +not to inquire into the real names of the parties concerned, as the +affair is a secret, I will relate you my experience regarding it.” + +The speaker was Q, the rising young detective, universally acknowledged +by us of the force as the most astute man for mysterious and +unprecedented cases, then in the bureau, always and of course excepting +Mr. Gryce; and such a statement from him could not but arouse our +deepest curiosity. Drawing up, then, to the stove around which we +were sitting in lazy enjoyment of one of those off-hours so dear to +a detective’s heart, we gave with alacrity the required promise; and +settling himself back with the satisfied air of a man who has a good +story to tell that does not entirely lack certain points redounding to +his own credit, he began: + +I was one Sunday morning loitering at the ----- Precinct Station, when +the door opened and a respectable-looking middle-aged woman came in, +whose agitated air at once attracted my attention. Going up to her, I +asked her what she wanted. + +“A detective,” she replied, glancing cautiously about on the faces of +the various men scattered through the room. “I don’t wish anything said +about it, but a girl disappeared from our house last night, and”--she +stopped here, her emotion seeming to choke her--“and I want some one to +look her up,” she went on at last with the most intense emphasis. + +“A girl? what kind of a girl; and what house do you mean when you say +our house?” + +She looked at me keenly before replying. “You are a young man,” said +she; “isn’t there some one here more responsible than yourself that I +can talk to?” + +I shrugged my shoulders and beckoned to Mr. Gryce who was just then +passing. She at once seemed to put confidence in him. Drawing him aside, +she whispered a few low eager words which I could not hear. He listened +nonchalantly for a moment but suddenly made a move which I knew +indicated strong and surprised interest, though from his face--but you +know what Gryce’s face is. I was about to walk off, convinced he had +got hold of something he would prefer to manage himself, when the +Superintendent came in. + +“Where is Gryce?” asked he; “tell him I want him.” + +Mr. Gryce heard him and hastened forward. As he passed me, he whispered, +“Take a man and go with this woman; look into matters and send me word +if you want me; I will be here for two hours.” + +I did not need a second permission. Beckoning to Harris, I reapproached +the woman. “Where do you come from,” said I, “I am to go back with you +and investigate the affair it seems.” + +“Did he say so?” she asked, pointing to Mr. Gryce who now stood with his +back to us busily talking with the Superintendent. + +I nodded, and she at once moved towards the door. “I come from No.---- +Second Avenue: Mr. Blake’s house,” she whispered, uttering a name so +well known, I at once understood Mr. Gryce’s movement of sudden interest +“A girl--one who sewed for us--disappeared last night in a way to +alarm us very much. She was taken from her room--” “Yes,” she cried +vehemently, seeing my look of sarcastic incredulity, “taken from her +room; she never went of her own accord; and she must be found if I spend +every dollar of the pittance I have laid up in the bank against my old +age.” + +Her manner was so intense, her tone so marked and her words so vehement, +I at once and naturally asked if the girl was a relative of hers that +she felt her abduction so keenly. + +“No,” she replied, “not a relative, but,” she went on, looking every way +but in my face, “a very dear friend--a--a--protegee, I think they call +it, of mine; I--I--She must be found,” she again reiterated. + +We were by this time in the street. + +“Nothing must be said about it,” she now whispered, catching me by the +arm. “I told him so,” nodding back to the building from which we had +just issued, “and he promised secrecy. It can be done without folks +knowing anything about it, can’t it?” + +“What?” I asked. + +“Finding the girl.” + +“Well,” said I, “we can tell you better about that when we know a few +more of the facts. What is the girl’s name and what makes you think she +didn’t go out of the house-door of her own accord?” + +“Why, why, everything. She wasn’t the person to do it; then the looks of +her room, and--They all got out of the window,” she cried suddenly, “and +went away by the side gate into ------ Street.” + +“They? Who do you mean by they?” + +“Why, whoever they were who carried her off.” + +I could not suppress the “bah!” that rose to my lips. Mr. Gryce might +have been able to, but I am not Gryce. + +“You don’t believe,” said she, “that she was carried off?” + +“Well, no,” said I, “not in the sense you mean.” + +She gave another nod back to the police station now a block or so +distant. “He did’nt seem to doubt it at all.” + +I laughed. “Did you tell him you thought she had been taken off in this +way?” + +“Yes, and he said, ‘Very likely.’ And well he might, for I heard the men +talking in her room, and--” + +“You heard men talking in her room--when?” + +“O, it must have been as late as half-past twelve. I had been asleep and +the noise they made whispering, woke me.” + +“Wait,” I said, “tell me where her room is, hers and yours.” + +“Hers is the third story back, mine the front one on the same floor.” + +“Who are you?” I now inquired. “What position do you occupy in Mr. +Blake’s house?” + +“I am the housekeeper.” + +Mr. Blake was a bachelor. + +“And you were wakened last night by hearing whispering which seemed to +come from this girl’s room.” + +“Yes, I at first thought it was the folks next door,--we often hear them +when they are unusually noisy,--but soon I became assured it came from +her room; and more astonished than I could say,--She is a good girl,” + she broke in, suddenly looking at me with hotly indignant eyes, +“a--a--as good a girl as this whole city can show; don’t you dare, any +of you, to hint at anything else o--” + +“Come, come,” I said soothingly, a little ashamed of my too +communicative face, “I haven’t said anything, we will take it for +granted she is as good as gold, go on.” + +The woman wiped her forehead with a hand that trembled like a leaf. +“Where was I?” said she. “O, I heard voices and was surprised and got +up and went to her door. The noise I made unlocking my own must have +startled her, for all was perfectly quiet when I got there. I waited a +moment, then I turned the knob and called her: she did not reply and I +called again. Then she came to the door, but did not unlock it. ‘What is +it?’ she asked. ‘O,’ said I, ‘I thought I heard talking here and I was +frightened,’ ‘It must have been next door,’ said she. I begged pardon +and went back to my room. There was no more noise, but when in the +morning we broke into her room and found her gone, the window open and +signs of distress and struggle around, I knew I had not been mistaken; +that there were men with her when I went to her door, and that they had +carried her off--” + +This time I could not restrain myself. + +“Did they drop her out of the window?” I inquired. + +“O,” said she, “we are building an extension, and there is a ladder +running up to the third floor, and it was by means of that they took +her.” + +“Indeed! she seems at least to have been a willing victim,” I remarked. + +The woman clutched my arm with a grip like iron. “Don’t you believe it,” + gasped she, stopping me in the street where we were. “I tell you if what +I say is true, and these burglars or whatever they were, did carry her +off, it was an agony to her, an awful, awful thing that will kill her if +it has not done so already. You don’t know what you are talking about, +you never saw her--” + +“Was she pretty,” I asked, hurrying the woman along, for more than one +passer-by had turned their heads to look at us. The question seemed in +some way to give her a shock. + +“Ah, I don’t know,” she muttered; “some might not think so, I always +did; it depended upon the way you looked at her.” + +For the first time I felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through my +veins. Why, I could not say. Her tone was peculiar, and she spoke in a +sort of brooding way as though she were weighing something in her own +mind; but then her manner had been peculiar throughout. Whatever it was +that aroused my suspicion, I determined henceforth to keep a very sharp +eye upon her ladyship. Levelling a straight glance at her face, I asked +her how it was that she came to be the one to inform the authorities of +the girl’s disappearance. + +“Doesn’t Mr. Blake know anything about it?” + +The faintest shadow of a change came into her manner. “Yes,” said she, +“I told him at breakfast time; but Mr. Blake doesn’t take much interest +in his servants; he leaves all such matters to me.” + +“Then he does not know you have come for the police?” + +“No, sir, and O, if you would be so good as to keep it from him. It is +not necessary he should know. I shall let you in the back way. Mr. Blake +is a man who never meddles with anything, and--” + +“What did Mr. Blake say this morning when you told him that this +girl--By the way, what is her name?” + +“Emily.” + +“That this girl, Emily, had disappeared during the night?” + +“Not much of anything, sir. He was sitting at the breakfast table +reading his paper, he merely looked up, frowned a little in an +absent-minded way, and told me I must manage the servants’ affairs +without troubling him.” + +“And you let it drop?” + +“Yes sir; Mr. Blake is not a man to speak twice to.” + +I could easily believe that from what I had seen of him in public, for +though by no means a harsh looking man, he had a reserved air which if +maintained in private must have made him very difficult of approach. + +We were now within a half block or so of the old-fashioned mansion +regarded by this scion of New York’s aristocracy as one of the most +desirable residences in the city; so motioning to the man who had +accompanied me to take his stand in a doorway near by and watch for +the signal I would give him in case I wanted Mr. Gryce, I turned to the +woman, who was now all in a flutter, and asked her how she proposed to +get me into the house without the knowledge of Mr. Blake. + +“O sir, all you have got to do is to follow me right up the back stairs; +he won’t notice, or if he does will not ask any questions.” + +And having by this time reached the basement door, she took out a key +from her pocket and inserting it in the lock, at once admitted us into +the dwelling. + + + +CHAPTER II. A FEW POINTS + + +Mrs. Daniels, for that was her name, took me at once up stairs to the +third story back room. As we passed through the halls, I could not but +notice how rich, though sombre were the old fashioned walls and heavily +frescoed ceilings, so different in style and coloring from what we see +now-a-days in our secret penetrations into Fifth Avenue mansions. Many +as are the wealthy houses I have been called upon to enter in the line +of my profession, I had never crossed the threshold of such an one as +this before, and impervious as I am to any foolish sentimentalities, +I felt a certain degree of awe at the thought of invading with police +investigation, this home of ancient Knicker-bocker respectability. But +once in the room of the missing girl, every consideration fled save that +of professional pride and curiosity. For almost at first blush, I saw +that whether Mrs. Daniels was correct or not in her surmises as to the +manner of the girl’s disappearance, the fact that she had disappeared +was likely to prove an affair of some importance. For, let me state +the facts in the order in which I noticed them. The first thing that +impressed me was, that whatever Mrs. Daniels called her, this was no +sewing girl’s room into which I now stepped. Plain as was the furniture +in comparison with the elaborate richness of the walls and ceiling, +there were still scattered through the room, which was large even for +a thirty foot house, articles of sufficient elegance to make the +supposition that it was the abode of an ordinary seamstress open to +suspicion, if no more. + +Mrs. Daniels, seeing my look of surprise, hastened to provide some +explanation. “It is the room which has always been devoted to sewing,” + said she; “and when Emily came, I thought it would be easier to put up +a bed here than to send her upstairs. She was a very nice girl and +disarranged nothing.” + +I glanced around on the writing-case lying open on a small table in the +centre of the room, on the vase half full of partly withered roses, on +the mantel-piece, the Shakespeare, and Macaulay’s History lying on the +stand at my right, thought my own thoughts, but said nothing. + +“You found the door locked this morning?” asked I, after a moment’s +scrutiny of the room in which three facts had become manifest: first, +that the girl had not occupied the bed the night before; second, that +there had been some sort of struggle or surprise,--one of the curtains +being violently torn as if grasped by an agitated hand, to say nothing +of a chair lying upset on the floor with one of its legs broken; third, +that the departure, strange as it may seem, had been by the window. + +“Yes,” returned she; “but there is a passageway leading from my room +to hers and it was by that means we entered. There was a chair placed +against the door on this side but we easily pushed it away.” + +I stepped to the window and looked out. Ah, it would not be so very +difficult for a man to gain the street from that spot in a dark night, +for the roof of the newly-erected extension was almost on a level with +the window. + +“Well,” said she anxiously, “couldn’t she have been got out that way?” + +“More difficult things have been done,” said I; and was about to step +out upon the roof when I bethought to inquire of Mrs. Daniels if any of +the girl’s clothing was missing. + +She immediately flew to the closets and thence to bureau drawers which +she turned hastily over. “No, nothing is missing but a hat and cloak +and--” She paused confusedly. + +“And what?” I asked. + +“Nothing,” returned she, hurriedly closing the bureau drawer; “only some +little knick-knacks.” + +“Knick-knacks!” quoth I. “If she stopped for knick-knacks, she couldn’t +have gone in any very unwilling frame of mind.” And somewhat disgusted, +I was about to throw up the whole affair and leave the room. But the +indecision in Mrs. Daniels’ own face deterred me. + +“I don’t understand it,” murmured she, drawing her hand across her eyes. +“I don’t understand it. But,” she went on with even an increase in her +old tone of heart-felt conviction, “no matter whether we understand it +or not, the case is serious; I tell you so, and she must be found.” + +I resolved to know the nature of that must, used as few women in her +position would use it even under circumstances to all appearance more +aggravated than these. + +“Why, must?” said I. “If the girl went of her own accord as some things +seem to show, why should you, no relative as you acknowledge, take the +matter so to heart as to insist she shall be followed and brought back?” + +She turned away, uneasily taking up and putting down some little matters +on the table before her. “Is it not enough that I promise to pay for +all expenses which a search will occasion, without my being forced to +declare just why I should be willing to do so? Am I bound to tell you I +love the girl? that I believe she has been taken away by foul means, +and that to her great suffering and distress? that being fond of her and +believing this, I am conscientious enough to put every means I possess +at the command of those who will recover her?” + +I was not satisfied with this but on that very account felt my +enthusiasm revive. + +“But Mr. Blake? Surely he is the one to take this interest if anybody.” + +“I have before said,” returned she, paling however as she spoke, “that +Mr. Blake takes very little interest in his servants.” + +I cast another glance about the room. “How long have you been in this +house?” asked I. + +“I was in the service of Mr. Blake’s father and he died a year ago.” + +“Since when you have remained with Mr. Blake himself?” + +“Yes sir.” + +“And this Emily, when did she come here?” + +“Oh it must be eleven months or so ago.” + +“An Irish girl?” + +“O no, American. She is not a common person, sir.” + +“What do you mean by that? That she was educated, lady-like, pretty, or +what?” + +“I don’t know what to say. She was educated, yes, but not as you would +call a lady educated. Yet she knew a great many things the rest of us +did’nt. She liked to read, you see, and--O sir, ask the girls about her, +I never know what to say when I am questioned.” + +I scanned the gray-haired woman still more intently than I had yet done. +Was she the weak common-place creature she seemed, or had she really +some cause other than appeared for these her numerous breaks and +hesitations. + +“Where did you get this girl?” I inquired. “Where did she live before +coming here?” + +“I cannot say, I never asked her to talk about herself. She came to me +for work and I liked her and took her without recommendation.” + +“And she has served you well?” + +“Excellently.” + +“Been out much? Had any visitors?” + +She shook her head. “Never went out and never had any visitors.” + +I own I was nonplussed, “Well,” said I, “no more of this at present. +I must first find out if she left this house alone or in company with +others.” And without further parley I stepped out upon the roof of the +extension. + +As I did so I debated with myself whether the case warranted me or not +in sending for Mr. Gryce. As yet there was nothing to show that the girl +had come to any harm. A mere elopement with or without a lover to help +her, was not such a serious matter that the whole police force need +be stirred up on the subject; and if the woman had money, as she said, +ready to give the man who should discover the whereabouts of this girl, +why need that money be divided up any more than was necessary. Yet Gryce +was not one to be dallied with. He had said, send for him if the affair +seemed to call for his judgment, and somehow the affair did promise to +be a trifle complicated. I was yet undetermined when I reached the edge +of the roof. + +It was a dizzy descent, but once made, escape from the yard beneath +would be easy. A man could take that road without difficulty; but a +woman! Baffled at the idea I turned thoughtfully back, when I beheld +something on the roof before me that caused me to pause and ask myself +if this was going to turn out to be a tragedy after all. It was a drop +of congealed blood. Further on towards the window was another, and +yes, further still, another and another. I even found one upon the very +window ledge itself. Bounding into the room, I searched the carpet for +further traces. It was the worst one in the world to find anything +upon of the nature of which I was seeking, being a confused pattern of +mingled drab and red, and in my difficulty I had to stoop very low. + +“What are you looking for?” cried Mrs. Daniels. + +I pointed to the drop on the window sill. “Do you see that?” I asked. + +She uttered an exclamation and bent nearer. “Blood!” cried she, and +stood staring, with rapidly paling cheeks and trembling form. “They have +killed her and he will never--” + +As she did not finish I looked up. + +“Do you think it was her blood?” she whispered in a horrified tone. + +“There is every reason to believe so,” rejoined I, pointing to a spot +where I had at last discovered not only one crimson drop but many, +scattered over the scarcely redder roses under my feet. + +“Ah, it is worse than I thought,” murmured she. “What are you going to +do? What can we do? + +“I am going to send for another detective,” returned I; and stepping to +the window I telegraphed at once to the man Harris to go for Mr. Gryce. + +“The one we saw at the Station?” + +I bowed assent. + +Her face lost something of its drawn expression. “O I am glad; he will +do something.” + +Subduing my indignation at this back thrust, I employed my time in +taking note of such details as had escaped my previous attention. They +were not many. The open writing-desk--in which, however I found no +letters or written documents of any kind, only a few sheets of paper, +with pen, ink, etc.; the brush and hairpins scattered on the bureau as +though the girl had been interrupted while arranging her hair (if she +had been interrupted); and the absence of any great pile of work such as +one would expect to see in a room set apart for sewing, were all I could +discover. Not much to help us, in case this was to prove an affair of +importance as I began to suspect. + +With Mr. Gryce’s arrival, however, things soon assumed a better shape. +He came to the basement door, was ushered in by your humble servant, had +the whole matter as far as I had investigated it, at his finger-ends in +a moment, and was up-stairs and in that room before I, who am called the +quickest man in the force as you all know, could have time to determine +just what difference his presence would make to me in a pecuniary way in +event of Mrs. Daniels’ promises amounting to anything. He did not remain +there long, but when he came down I saw that his interest was in no wise +lessened. + +“What kind of a looking girl was this?” he asked, hurrying up to Mrs. +Daniels who had withdrawn into a recess in the lower hall while all this +was going on. “Describe her to me, hair, eyes, complexion, etc.; you +know.” + +“I--I--don’t know as I can,” she stammered reluctantly, turning very +red in the face. “I am a poor one for noticing. I will call one of the +girls, I--” She was gone before we realized she had not finished her +sentence. + +“Humph!” broke from Mr. Gryce’s lips as he thoughtfully took down a vase +that stood on a bracket near by and looked into it. + +I did not venture a word. + +When Mrs. Daniels came back she had with her a trim-looking girl of +prepossessing appearance. + +“This is Fanny,” said she; “she knows Emily well, being in the habit of +waiting on her at table; she will tell you what you want to hear. I +have explained to her,” she went on, nodding towards Mr. Gryce with a +composure such as she had not before displayed; “that you are looking +for your niece who ran away from home some time ago to go into some sort +of service.” + +“Certainly, ma’am,” quoth that gentleman, bowing with mock admiration +to the gas-fixture. Then carelessly shifting his glance to the +cleaning-cloth which Fanny held rather conspicuously in her hand, he +repeated the question he had already put to Mrs. Daniels. + +The girl, tossing her head just a trifle, at once replied: + +“O she was good-looking enough, if that is what you mean, for them as +likes a girl with cheeks as white as this cloth was afore I rubbed the +spoons with it. As for her eyes, they was blacker than her hair, which +was the blackest I ever see. She had no flesh at all, and as for her +figure--” Fanny glanced down on her own well developed person, and gave +a shrug inexpressibly suggestive. + +“Is this description true?” Mr. Gryce asked, seemingly of Mrs. Daniels, +though his gaze rested with curious intentness on the girl’s head which +was covered with a little cap. + +“Sufficiently so,” returned Mrs. Daniels in a very low tone, however. +Then with a sudden display of energy, “Emily’s figure is not what +you would call plump. I have seen her--” She broke off as if a little +startled at herself and motioned Fanny to go. + +“Wait a moment,” interposed Mr. Gryce in his soft way. “You said the +girl’s hair and eyes were dark; were they darker than yours?” + +“O, yes sir;” replied the girl simpering, as she settled the ribbons on +her cap. + +“Let me see your hair.” + +She took off her cap with a smile. + +“Ha, very pretty, very pretty. And the other girls? You have other girls +I suppose?” + +“Two, sir;” returned Mrs. Daniels. + +“How about their complexions? Are they lighter too than Emily’s?” + +“Yes, sir; about like Fanny’s.” + +Mr. Gryce spread his hand over his breast in a way that assured me of +his satisfaction, and allowed the girl to go. + +“We will now proceed to the yard,” said he. But at that moment the door +of the front room opened and a gentleman stepped leisurely into the +hall, whom at first glance I recognized as the master of the house. He +was dressed for the street and had his hat in his hand. At the sight +we all stood silent, Mrs. Daniels flushing up to the roots of her gray +hair. + +Mr. Blake is an elegant-looking man as you perhaps know; proud, +reserved, and a trifle sombre. As he turned to come towards us, the +light shining through the windows at our right, fell full upon his +face, revealing such a self-absorbed and melancholy expression, I +involuntarily drew back as if I had unwittingly intruded upon a great +man’s privacy. Mr. Gryce on the contrary stepped forward. + +“Mr. Blake, I believe,” said he, bowing in that deferential way he knows +so well how to assume. + +The gentleman, startled as it evidently seemed from a reverie, looked +hastily up. Meeting Mr. Gryce’s bland smile, he returned the bow, but +haughtily, and as it appeared in an abstracted way. + +“Allow me to introduce myself,” proceeded my superior. “I am Mr. Gryce +from the detective bureau. We were notified this morning that a girl +in your employ had disappeared from your house last night in a somewhat +strange and unusual way, and I just stepped over with my man here, to +see if the matter is of sufficient importance to inquire into. With many +apologies for the intrusion, I stand obedient to your orders.” + +With a frown expressive of annoyance, Mr. Blake glanced around and +detecting Mrs. Daniels, said: “Did you consider the affair so serious as +that?” + +She nodded, seeming to find it difficult to speak. + +He remained looking at her with an expression of some doubt. “I can +hardly think,” said he, “such extreme measures were necessary; the girl +will doubtless come back, or if not--” His shoulders gave a slight shrug +and he took out his gloves. + +“The difficulty seems to be,” quoth Mr. Gryce eyeing those gloves with +his most intent and concentrated look, “that the girl did not go alone, +but was helped away, or forced away, by parties who had previously +broken into your house.” + +“That is a strange circumstance,” remarked Mr. Blake, but still without +any appearance of interest, “and if you are sure of what you say, +demands, perhaps, some inquiry. I would not wish to put anything in the +way of justice succoring the injured. But--” again he gave that slight +shrug of the shoulders, indicative of doubt, if not indifference. + +Mrs. Daniels trembled, and took a step forward. I thought she was +going to speak, but instead of that she drew back again in her strange +hesitating way. + +Mr. Gryce did not seem to notice. + +“Perhaps sir,” said he, “if you will step upstairs with me to the room +occupied by this girl, I may be able to show you certain evidences which +will convince you that our errand here is not one of presumption.” + +“I am ready to concede that without troubling myself with proof,” + observed the master of the house with the faintest show of asperity. +“Yet if there is anything to see of a startling nature, perhaps I had +best yield to your wishes. Whereabouts in the house is this girl’s room, +Mrs. Daniels?” + +“It is--I gave her the third story back, Mr. Blake;” replied that woman, +nervously eyeing his face. “It was large and light for sewing, and she +was so nice--” + +He impatiently waved his hand on which he had by this time fitted his +glove to a nicety, as if these details were an unnecessary bore to him, +and motioned her to show the way. Instantly a new feeling appeared to +seize her, that of alarm. + +“I hardly think you need trouble Mr. Blake to go up-stairs,” she +murmured, turning towards Mr. Gryce. “I am sure when you tell him the +curtains were torn, and the chair upset, the window open and--” + +But Mr. Gryce was already on the stairs with Mr. Blake, whom this small +opposition seemed to have at once determined. + +“O my God!” she murmured to herself, “who could have foreseen this.” + And ignoring my presence with all the egotism of extreme agitation, she +hurried past me to the room above, where I speedily joined her. + + + +CHAPTER III. THE CONTENTS OF A BUREAU DRAWER + +Mr. Blake was standing in the centre of the room when I entered, +carelessly following with his eyes the motion of Mr. Gryce’s finger as +that gentleman pointed with unwearying assiduity to the various little +details that had struck us. His hat was still in his hand, and he +presented a very formidable and imposing appearance, or so Mrs. Daniels +appeared to think as she stood watching him from the corner, whither she +had withdrawn herself. + +“A forcible departure you see,” exclaimed Mr. Gryce; “she had not even +time to gather up her clothes;” and with a sudden movement he stooped +and pulled out one of the bureau drawers before the eyes of his +nonchalant listener. + +Immediately a smothered exclamation struck our ears, and Mrs. Daniels +started forward. + +“I pray, gentlemen,” she entreated, advancing in such a way as to place +herself against the front of the bureau in a manner to preclude the +opening of any more drawers, “that you will remember that a modest woman +such as this girl was, would hardly like to have her clothing displayed +before the eyes of strangers.” + +Mr. Gryce instantly closed the drawer. + +“You are right,” said he; “pardon the rough ways of a somewhat hardened +officer of the law.” + +She drew up closer to the bureau, still protecting it with her meagre +but energetic form while her eyes rested with almost a savage expression +upon the master of the house as if he, and not the detective, had been +the aggressor whose advances she feared. + +Mr. Blake did not return the look. + +“If that is all you can show me, I think I will proceed to my +appointment,” said he. “The matter does seem to be more serious than I +thought, and if you judge it necessary to take any active measures, why, +let no consideration of my great and inherent dislike to notoriety of +any kind, interfere with what you consider your duty. As for the house, +it is at your command, under Mrs. Daniels’ direction. Good morning.” And +returning our bows with one singularly impressive for all its elegant +carelessness, he at once withdrew. + +Mrs. Daniels took one long deep breath and came from the bureau. +Instantly Mr. Gryce stooped and pulled out the drawer she had so visibly +protected. A white towel met our eyes, spread neatly out at its full +length. Lifting it, we looked beneath. A carefully folded dress of dark +blue silk, to all appearance elegantly made, confronted our rather +eager eyes. Beside it, a collar of exquisite lace--I know enough of such +matters to be a judge--pricked through by a gold breast-pin of a strange +and unique pattern. A withered bunch of what appeared to have been a +bouquet of red roses, surmounted the whole, giving to the otherwise +commonplace collection the appearance of a relic from the tomb. + +We both drew back in some amazement, involuntarily glancing up at Mrs. +Daniels. + +“I have no explanation to give,” said that woman, with a calmness +strangely in contrast to the agitation she had displayed while Mr. Blake +had remained in the room. “That those things rich as they are, really +belonged to the girl, I have no doubt. She brought them when she came, +and they only confirm what I have before intimated: that she was no +ordinary sewing girl, but a woman who had seen better days.” + +With a low “humph!” and another glance at the dark blue dress and +delicate collar, Mr. Gryce carefully replaced the cloth he had taken +from them, and softly closed the drawer without either of us having laid +a finger upon a single article. Five minutes later he disappeared from +the room. + +I did not see him again till occasion took me below, when I beheld him +softly issue from Mr. Blake’s private apartment. Meeting me, he smiled, +and I saw that whether he was conscious of betraying it or not, he had +come upon some clue or at the least fashioned for himself some theory +with which he was more or less satisfied. + +“An elegant apartment, that,” whispered he, nodding sideways toward the +room he had just left, “pity you haven’t time to examine it.” + +“Are you sure that I haven’t?” returned I, drawing a step nearer to +escape the eyes of Mrs. Daniels who had descended after me. + +“Quite sure;” and we hastened down together into the yard. + +But my curiosity once aroused in this way would not let me rest. Taking +an opportunity when Mr. Gryce was engaged in banter with the girls +below, and in this way learning more in a minute of what he wanted to +know than some men would gather in an hour by that or any other method, +I stole lightly back and entered this room. + +I almost started in my surprise. Instead of the luxurious apartment I +had prepared myself to behold, a plain, scantily-furnished room opened +before me, of a nature between a library and a studio. There was not +even a carpet on the polished floor, only a rug, which strange to say +was not placed in the centre of the room or even before the fireplace, +but on one side, and directly in front of a picture that almost at first +blush had attracted my attention as being the only article in the room +worth looking at. It was the portrait of a woman, handsome, haughty and +alluring; a modern beauty, with eyes of fire burning beneath high piled +locks of jetty blackness, that were only relieved from being too intense +by the scarlet hood of an opera cloak, that was drawn over them. “A +sister,” I thought to myself, “it is too modern for his mother,” and I +took a step nearer to see if I could trace any likeness in the chiselled +features of this disdainful brunette, to the more characteristic ones +of the careless gentleman who had stood but a few moments before in my +presence. As I did so, I was struck with the distance with which +the picture stood out from the wall, and thought to myself that +the awkwardness of the framing came near marring the beauty of this +otherwise lovely work of art. As for the likeness I was in search of, I +found it or thought I did, in the expression of the eyes which were +of the same color as Mr. Blake’s but more full and passionate; and +satisfied that I had exhausted all the picture could tell me, I +turned to make what other observations I could, when I was startled by +confronting the agitated countenance of Mrs. Daniels who had entered +behind me. + +“This is Mr. Blake’s room,” said she with dignity; “no one ever intrudes +here but myself, not even the servants.” + +“I beg pardon,” said I, glancing around in vain for the something which +had awakened that look of satisfaction in Mr. Gryce’s eyes. “I was +attracted by the beauty of this picture visible through the half open +door and stepped in to favor myself with a nearer view. It is very +lovely. A sister of Mr. Blake?” + +“No, his cousin;” and she closed the door after us with an emphasis that +proclaimed she was anything but pleased. + +It was my last effort to obtain information on my own account. In a few +moments later Mr. Gryce appeared from below, and a conversation ensued +with Mrs. Daniels that absorbed my whole attention. + +“You are very anxious, my man here tells me, that this girl should be +found?” remarked Mr. Gryce; “so much so that you are willing to defray +all the expenses of a search?” + +She bowed. “As far as I am able sir; I have a few hundreds in the +bank, you are welcome to them. I would not keep a dollar back if I +had thousands, but I am poor, and can only promise you what I myself +possess; though--” and her cheeks grew flushed and hot with an unnatural +agitation--“I believe that thousands would not be lacking if they were +found necessary. I--I could almost swear you shall have anything in +reason which you require; only the girl must be found and soon.” + +“Have you thought,” proceeded Mr. Gryce, utterly ignoring the wildness +of these statements, “that the girl may come back herself if let alone?” + +“She will come back if she can,” quoth Mrs. Daniels. + +“Did she seem so well satisfied with her home as to warrant you in +saying that?” + +“She liked her home, but she loved me,” returned the woman steadily. +“She loved me so well she would never have gone as she did without being +forced. Yes,” said she, “though she made no outcry and stopped to put +on her bonnet and shawl. She was not a girl to make a fuss. If they had +killed her outright, she would never have uttered a cry.” + +“Why do you say they?” + +“Because I am confident I heard more than one man’s voice in her room.” + +“Humph! Would you know those voices if you heard them again?” + +“No.” + +There was a surprise in this last negative which Mr. Gryce evidently +noticed. + +“I ask,” said he, “because I have been told that Mr. Blake lately kept a +body servant who has been seen to look at this girl more than once, when +she has passed him on the stairs.” + +Mrs. Daniels’ face turned scarlet with rage and she hastily rose from +the chair. “I don’t believe it,” said she; “Henry was a man who knew his +place, and--I won’t hear such things,” she suddenly exclaimed; “Emily +was--was a lady, and--” + +“Well, well,” interposed Mr. Gryce soothingly, “though the cat looks at +the king, it is no sign the king looks at the cat. We have to think of +everything you know.” + +“You must never think of anything like that.” + +Mr. Gryce softly ran his thumb around the brim of the hat he held in his +hand. “Mrs. Daniels,” observed he, “it would greatly facilitate matters +if you would kindly tell us why you take such an interest in this girl. +One glimpse at her real history would do more towards setting us on the +right track than anything else you could offer.” + +Her face assumed an unmistakable frown. “Have I not told you,” said she, +“what is known of it? That she came to me about two years ago for work; +that I liked her, and so hired her; that she has been with us ever since +and--” + +“Then you will not tell us?” exclaimed Mr. Gryce. + +Her face fell and a look of hesitation crossed it. + +“I doubt if we can do anything unless you do,” continued he. + +Her countenance settled again into a resolved expression. + +“You are mistaken,” said she; “if the girl had a secret--as nearly all +girls have, brought low as she has evidently been--it had nothing to do +with her disappearance, nor would a knowledge of it help you in any way. +I am confident of this and so shall hold my peace.” + +She was not a woman to be frightened or cajoled into making revelations +she did not think necessary, and seeing it, Mr. Gryce refrained from +urging her further. + +“However, you will at least tell me this,” said he, “what were the +knick-knacks she took away with her from her bureau drawer?” + +“No,” said she, “for they have nothing to do with her abduction. They +were articles of positive value to her, though I assure you of little +importance to any one else. All that is shown by their disappearance is +the fact that she had a moment’s time allowed her in which to collect +what she most wanted.” + +Mr. Gryce arose. “Well,” said he, “you have given us a hard sum to +work out, but I am not the man to recoil from anything hard. If I can +discover the whereabouts of this girl I will certainly do it, but you +must help me.” + +“I, how?” + +“By inserting a personal in the Herald. You say she loves you; and would +come back if she could. Now whether you believe it or not this is open +to doubt; therefore I would advise that you take some such means as +that to inform her of the anxiety of her friends and their desire to +communicate with her.” + +“Impossible,” she cried vehemently. “I should be afraid--” + +“Well?” + +“I might put it that Mrs. D----, anxious about Emily, desires +information of her whereabouts--” + +“Put it any way you like.” + +“You had better add,” said I, speaking for the first time, “that you +would be willing to pay for information.” + +“Yes,” said Mr. Gryce, “add that.” + +Mrs. Daniels frowned, but made no objection, and after getting as minute +a description as possible of the clothing worn by the girl the night +before, we left the house. + + + +CHAPTER IV. THOMPSON’S STORY + + +“An affair of some mystery,” remarked Mr. Gryce, as we halted at the +corner to take a final look at the house and its environs. “Why a girl +should choose such a method of descent as that,”--and he pointed to the +ladder down which we believed her to have come--“to leave a house of +which she had been an inmate for a year, baffles me, I can tell you. If +it were not for those marks of blood which betray her track, I would +be disinclined to believe any such hare-brained adventure was ever +perpetrated by a woman. As it is, what would’nt I give for her +photograph. Black hair, black eyes, white face and thin figure! what a +description whereby to find a girl in this great city of New York. +Ah!” said he with sudden gratification, “here is Mr. Blake again; his +appointment must have been a failure. Let us see if his description will +be any more definite.” And hurrying towards the advancing figure of that +gentleman, he put some questions to him. + +Instantly Mr. Blake stopped, looked at him blankly for a moment, then +replied in a tone sufficiently loud for me to hear: + +“I am sorry, sir, if my description could have done you any good, but I +have not the remotest idea how the girl looked. I did not know till +this morning even, that there was such a person in my house as a +sewing-woman. I leave all such domestic concerns entirely with Mrs. +Daniels.” + +Mr. Gryce again bowed low and ventured another question. The answer came +as before, distinctly to my ears. + +“O, I may have seen her, I can not say about that; I very often run +across the servants in the hall; but whether she is tall or short, light +or dark, pretty or ugly, I know no more than you do, sir.” Then with +a dignified nod calculated to abash a man in Mr. Gryce’s position, +inquired, + +“Is that all?” + +It did not seem to be, Mr. Gryce put another question. + +Mr. Blake give him a surprised stare before replying, then courteously +remarked, + +“I do not concern myself with servants after they have left me. Henry +was an excellent valet, but a trifle domineering, something which I +never allow in any one who approaches me. I dismissed him and that was +the end of it, I know nothing of what has become of him.” + +Mr. Gryce bowed and drew back, and Mr. Blake, with the haughty step +peculiar to him, passed by him and reentered his house. + +“I should not like to get into that man’s clutches,” said I, as my +superior rejoined me; “he has a way of making one appear so small.” + +Mr. Gryce shot an askance look at his shadow gloomily following him +along the pavement. “Yet it may happen that you will have to run the +risk of that very experience.” + +I glanced towards him in amazement. + +“If the girl does not turn up of her own accord, or if we do not succeed +in getting some trace of her movements, I shall be tempted to place you +where you can study into the ways of this gentleman’s household. If the +affair is a mystery, it has its centre in that house.” + +I stared at Mr. Gryce good and roundly. “You have come across +something which I have missed,” observed I, “or you could not speak so +positively.” + +“I have come across nothing that was not in plain sight of any body who +had eyes to see it,” he returned shortly. + +I shook my head slightly mortified. + +“You had it all before you,” continued he, “and if you were not able +to pick up sufficient facts on which to base a conclusion, you mustn’t +blame me for it.” + +More nettled than I would be willing to confess, I walked back with +him to the station, saying nothing then, but inwardly determined to +reestablish my reputation with Mr. Gryce before the affair was over. +Accordingly hunting up the man who had patrolled the district the night +before, I inquired if he had seen any one go in or out of the side gate +of Mr. Blake’s house on ----- street, between the hours of eleven and +one. + +“No,” said he, “but I heard Thompson tell a curious story this morning +about some one he had seen.” + +“What was it?” + +“He said he was passing that way last night about twelve o’clock when he +remarked standing under the lamp on the corner of Second Avenue, a group +consisting of two men and a woman, who no sooner beheld him than they +separated, the men drawing back into Second Avenue and the woman coming +hastily towards him. Not understanding the move, he stood waiting her +approach, when instead of advancing to where he was, she paused at the +gate of Mr. Blake’s house and lifted her hand as if to open it, when +with a wild and terrified gesture she started back, covering her +face with her hands, and before he knew it, had actually fled in the +direction from which she had come. A little startled, Thompson advanced +and looked through the gate before him to see if possible what had +alarmed her, when to his great surprise, he beheld the pale face of the +master of the house, Mr. Blake himself, looking through the bars from +the other side of the gate. He in his turn started back and before he +could recover himself, Mr. Blake had disappeared. He says he tried the +gate after that, but found it locked.” + +“Thompson tells you this story, does he?” + +“Yes.” + +“Well,” said I, “it’s a pretty wild kind of a tale, and all I have +got to say is, that neither you nor Thompson had better go blabbing +it around too much. Mum is the word where such men as Mr. Blake are +concerned.” And I departed to hunt up Thompson. + +But he had nothing to add to his statement, except that the girl +appeared to be tall and thin, and was closely wrapped about in a shawl. +My next move was to make such inquiries as I could with safety into the +private concerns of Mr. Blake and his family, and discovered--well, such +facts as these: + +That Mr. Blake was a man who if he paid but little attention to domestic +affairs was yet rarely seen out of his own house, except upon occasions +of great political importance, when he was always to be found on +the platform at meetings of his constituents. Though to the ordinary +observer a man eminently calculated, from his good looks, fine position, +and solid wealth to enjoy society, he not only manifested a distaste +for it, but even went so far as to refuse to participate in the social +dinners of his most intimate friends; the only table to which he would +sit down being that of some public caterer, where he was sure of finding +none but his political associates assembled. + +To all appearance he wished to avoid the ladies, a theory borne out by +the fact that never, even in church, on the street, or at any place of +amusement, was he observed with one at his side. This fact in a +man, young--he was not far from thirty-five at that time--rich, and +marriageable, would, however, have been more noteworthy than it was +if he had not been known to belong to a family eminent for their +eccentricities. Not a man of all his race but had possessed some marked +peculiarity. His father, bibliomaniac though he was, would never treat a +man or a woman with decency, who mentioned Shakspeare to him, nor would +he acknowledge to his dying day any excellence in that divine poet +beyond a happy way of putting words together. Mr. Blake’s uncle hated +all members of the legal profession, and as for his grandfather--but you +have heard what a mania of dislike he had against that simple article of +diet, fish; how his friends were obliged to omit it from their bills of +fare whenever they expected him to dinner. If then Mr. Blake chose +to have any pet antipathy--as for women for instance--he surely +had precedent enough in his own family to back him. However, it was +whispered in my ear by one gentleman, a former political colleague of +his who had been with him in Washington, that he was known at one time +to show considerable attention to Miss Evelyn Blake, that cousin of +his who has since made such a brilliant thing of it by marrying, and +straightway losing by death, a wealthy old scapegrace of a French noble, +the Count De Mirac. But that was not a matter to be talked about, +Madame the Countess being free at present and in New York, though to all +appearance upon anything but pleasant terms with her quondam admirer. + +Remembering the picture I had seen in Mr. Blake’s private apartment, I +asked if this lady was a brunette, and being told she was, and of the +most pronounced type, felt for the moment I had stumbled upon something +in the shape of a clue; but upon resorting to Mr. Gryce with my +information, he shook his head with a short laugh and told me I would +have to dive deeper than that if I wanted to fish up the truth lying at +the bottom of this well. + + + +CHAPTER V. A NEW YORK BELLE + + +Meanwhile all our efforts to obtain information in regard to the fate or +whereabouts of the missing girl, had so far proved utterly futile. Even +the advertisements inserted by Mrs. Daniels had produced no effect; and +frustrated in my scheme I began to despair, when the accounts of that +same Mrs. Daniels’ strange and unaccountable behavior during these days +of suspense, which came to me through Fanny, (the pretty housemaid at +Mr. Blake’s, whose acquaintance I had lately taken to cultivating,) +aroused once more my dormant energies and led me to ask myself if the +affair was quite as hopeless as it seemed. + +“If she was a ghost,” was her final expression on the subject, “she +could’nt go peramberlating this house more than she does. It seems as if +she could’nt keep still a minute. Upstairs and down, upstairs and down, +till we’re most wild. And so white as she is and so trembling! Why her +hands shake so all the time she never dares lift a dish off the table. +And then the way she hangs about Mr. Blake’s door when he’s at home! +She never goes in, that’s the oddest part of it, but walks up and down +before it, wringing her hands and talking to herself just like a mad +woman. Why, I have seen her almost put her hand on the knob twice in +an afternoon perhaps, then draw back as if she was afraid it would burn +her; and if by any chance the door opened and Mr. Blake came out, you +ought to have seen how she run. What it all means I don’t know, but I +have my imaginings, and if she is’nt crazy, why--” etc., etc. + +In face of facts like these I felt it would be pure insanity to despair. +Let there be but a mystery, though it involved a man of the position of +Mr. Blake and I was safe. My only apprehension had been that the whole +affair would dissolve itself into an ordinary elopement or some such +common-place matter. + +When, therefore, a few minutes later, Fanny announced that Mr. Blake +had ordered a carriage to take him to the Charity Ball that evening, +I determined to follow him and learn if possible what change had +taken place in himself or his circumstances, to lead him into such an +innovation upon his usual habits. Though the hour was late I had but +little difficulty in carrying out my plan, arriving at the Academy +something less than an hour after the opening dance. + +The crowd was great and I circulated the floor three times before I came +upon him. When I did, I own I was slightly disappointed; for instead of +finding him as I anticipated, the centre of an admiring circle of ladies +and gentlemen, I espied him withdrawn into a corner with a bland old +politician of the Fifteenth Ward, discussing, as I presently overheard, +the merits and demerits of a certain Smith who at that time was making +some disturbance in the party. + +“If that is all he has come for,” thought I, “I had better have stayed +at home and made love to the pretty Fanny.” And somewhat chagrined, I +took up my stand near by, and began scrutinizing the ladies. + +Suddenly I felt my heart stand still, the noise of voices ceasing +the same instant behind me. A lady was passing on the arm of a +foreign-looking gentleman, whom it did not require a second glance to +identify with the subject of the portrait in Mr. Blake’s house. Older by +some few years than when her picture was painted, her beauty had assumed +a certain defiant expression that sufficiently betrayed the fact that +the years had not been so wholly happy as she had probably anticipated +when she jilted handsome Holman Blake for the old French Count. At all +events so I interpreted the look of latent scorn that burned in her dark +eyes, as she slowly turned her richly bejeweled head towards the corner +where that gentleman stood, and meeting his eyes no doubt, bowed with a +sudden loss of self-possession that not all the haughty carriage of +her noble form, held doubly erect for the next few moments, could quite +conceal or make forgotten. + +“She still loves him,” I inwardly commented and turned to see if the +surprise had awakened any expression on his uncommunicative countenance. + +Evidently not, for the tough old politician of the Fifteenth Ward was +laughing, at one of his own jokes probably, and looking up in the +face of Mr. Blake, whose back was turned to me, in a way that entirely +precluded all thought of any tragic expression in that quarter. Somewhat +disgusted, I withdrew and followed the lady. + +I could not get very near. By this time the presence of a live countess +in the assembly had become known, and I found her surrounded by a swarm +of half-fledged youths. But I cared little for this; all I wanted to +know was whether Mr. Blake would approach her or not during the evening. +Tediously the moments passed; but a detective on duty, or on fancied +duty, succumbs to no weariness. I had a woman before me worth studying +and the time could not be thrown away. I learned to know her beauty; +the poise of her head, the flush of her cheek, the curl of her lip, the +glance--yes, the glance of her eye, though that was more difficult to +understand, for she had a way of drooping her lids at times that, while +exceedingly effective upon the poor wretch toward whom she might be +directing that half-veiled shaft of light, was anything but conducive to +my purposes. + +At length with a restless shrug of her haughty shoulders she turned away +from her crowd of adorers, her breast heaving under its robing of garnet +velvet, and her whole face flaring with a light that might mean resolve +and might mean simply love. I had no need to turn my head to see who was +advancing towards her; her stately attitude as countess, her thrilling +glance as woman, betrayed only too readily. + +He was the more composed of the two. Bowing over her hand with a few +words I could not hear, he drew back a step and began uttering the usual +common-place sentiments of the occasion. + +She did not respond. With a splendor of indifference not often seen even +in the manner of our grandest ladies, she waited, opening and shutting +her richly feathered fan, as one who would say, “I know all this has to +be gone through with, therefore I will be patient.” But as the moments +passed, and his tone remained unchanged, I could detect a slight gleam +of impatience flash in the depths of her dark eyes, and a change +come into the conventional smile that had hitherto lighted, without +illuminating her countenance. Drawing still further back from the crowd +that was not to be awed from pressing upon her, she looked around as if +seeking a refuge. Her glance fell upon a certain window, with a gleam +of satisfaction. Seeing they would straightway withdraw there, I took +advantage of the moment and made haste to conceal myself behind a +curtain as near that vicinity as possible. In another instant I heard +them approaching. + +“You seem to be rather overwhelmed with attention to-night,” were the +first words I caught, uttered in Mr. Blake’s calmest and most courteous +tones. + +“Do you think so?” was the slightly sarcastic reply. “I was just +deciding to the contrary when you came up.” + +There was a pause. Taking out my knife, I ripped open a seam in the +curtain hanging before me, and looked through. He was eyeing her +intently, a firm look upon his face that made its reserve more marked +than common. I saw him gaze at her handsome head piled with its midnight +tresses amid which the jewels, doubtless of her dead lord, burned with +a fierce and ominous glare, at her smooth olive brow, her partly veiled +eyes where the fire passionately blazed, at her scarlet lips trembling +with an emotion her rapidly flushing cheeks would not allow her to +conceal. I saw his glances fall and embrace her whole elegant form with +its casing of ruby velvet and ornamentation of lace and diamonds, and +an expectant thrill passed through me almost as if I already beheld the +mask of his reserve falling, and the true man flash out in response to +the wooing beauty of this full-blown rose, evidently in waiting for him. +But it died away and a deeper feeling seized me as I saw his glances +return unkindled to her countenance, and heard him say in still more +measured accents than before: + +“Is it possible then that the Countess De Mirac can desire the adulation +of us poor American plebeians? I had not thought it, madame.” + +Slowly her dark eyes turned towards him; she stood a statue. + +“But I forget,” he went on, a tinge of bitterness for a moment showing +itself in his smile: “perhaps in returning to her own country, Evelyn +Blake has so far forgotten the last two years as to find pleasure again +in the toys and foibles of her youth. Such things have been, I hear.” + And he bowed almost to the ground in his half sarcastic homage. + +“Evelyn Blake! It is long since I have heard that name,” she murmured. + +He could not restrain the quick flush from mounting to his brow. “Pardon +me,” said he, “if it brings you sadness or unwelcome memories. I promise +you I will not so transgress again.” + +A wan smile crossed her lips grown suddenly pallid. + +“You mistake,” said she; “if my name brings up a past laden with bitter +memories and shadowed by regret, it also recalls much that is pleasant +and never to be forgotten. I do not object to hearing my girlhood’s name +uttered--by my nearest relative.” + +The answer was dignity itself. “Your name is Countess De Mirac, your +relatives must be proud to utter it.” + +A gleam not unlike the lightning’s quick flash shot from the eyes she +drooped before him. + +“Is it Holman Blake I am listening to,” said she; “I do not recognize my +old friend in the cool and sarcastic man of the world now before me.” + +“We often fail to recognize the work of our hands, madame, after it has +fallen from our grasp.” + +“What,” she cried, “do you mean--would you say that--” + +“I would say nothing,” interrupted he calmly, stooping for the fan she +had dropped. “At an interview which is at once a meeting and a parting, +I would give utterance to nothing which would seem like recrimination. +I--” + +“Wait,” suddenly exclaimed she, reaching out her hand for her fan with a +gesture lofty as it was resolute. “You have spoken a word which demands +explanation; what have I ever done to you that you should speak the word +recrimination to me?” + +“What? You shook my faith in womankind; you showed me that a woman who +had once told a man she loved him, could so far forget that love as to +marry one she could never respect, for the sake of titles and jewels. +You showed me--” + +“Hold,” said she again, this time without gesture or any movement, save +that of her lips grown pallid as marble, “and what did you show me?” + +He started, colored profoundly, and for a moment stood before her +unmasked of his stern self-possession. “I beg your pardon,” said he, “I +take back that word, recrimination.” + +It was now her turn to lift her head and survey him. With glance less +cool than his, but fully as deliberate, she looked at his proud head +bending before her; studying his face, line by line, from the stern brow +to the closely compressed lips on which melancholy seemed to have +set its everlasting seal, and a change passed over her countenance. +“Holman,” said she, with a sudden rush of tenderness, “if in the times +gone by, we both behaved with too much worldly prudence for it now to be +any great pleasure for either of us to look back, is that any reason +why we should mar our whole future by dwelling too long upon what we are +surely still young enough to bury if not forget? I acknowledge that +I would have behaved in a more ideal fashion, if, after I had been +forsaken by you, I had turned my face from society, and let the +canker-worm of despair slowly destroy whatever life and bloom I had +left. But I was young, and society had its charms, so did the prospect +of wealth and position, however hollow they may have proved; you who +are the master of both this day, because twelve months ago you forsook +Evelyn Blake, should be the last to reproach me with them. I do not +reproach you; I only say let the past be forgotten--” + +“Impossible,” exclaimed he, his whole face darkening with an expression +I could not fathom. “What was done at that time cannot be undone. For +you and me there is no future. Yes,” he said turning towards her as she +made a slight fluttering move of dissent, “no future; we can bury the +past, but we can not resurrect it. I doubt if you would wish to if we +could; as we cannot, of course you will not desire even to converse upon +the subject again. Evelyn I wanted to see you once, but I do not wish to +see you again; will you pardon my plain speaking, and release me?” + +“I will pardon your plain speaking, but--” Her look said she would not +release him. + +He seemed to understand it so, and smiled, but very bitterly. In another +moment he had bowed and gone, and she had returned to her crowd of +adoring sycophants. + + + +CHAPTER VI. A BIT OF CALICO + + +It was about this time that I took up my residence in a sort of +lodging-house that occupied the opposite corner to that of Mr. Blake. +My room, as I took pains to have it, overlooked the avenue, and from +its windows I could easily watch the goings and comings of the gentleman +whose movements were daily becoming of more and more interest to me. +For set it down to caprice--and men are often as capricious as women--or +account for it as you will, his restlessness at this period was truly +remarkable. Not a day that he did not spend his time in walking the +streets, and that not in his usual aimless gentlemanly fashion, but +eagerly and with an intent gaze that roamed here and there, like a bird +seeking its prey. It would often be as late as five o’clock before he +came in, and if, as now frequently happened, he did not have company to +dinner, he was even known to start out again after seven o’clock and go +over the same ground as in the morning, looking with strained gaze, that +vainly endeavored to appear unconcerned, into the faces of the women +that he passed. I not unfrequently followed him at these times as much +for my own amusement as from any hope I had of coming upon anything that +should aid me in the work before me. But when he suddenly changed his +route of travel from a promenade in the fashionable thoroughfares of +Broadway and Fourteenth Street to a walk through Chatham Square and the +dark, narrow streets of the East side, I began to scent whom the prey +might be that he was seeking, and putting every other consideration +aside, regularly set myself to dog his steps, as only I, with my +innumerable disguises, knew how to do. For three separate days I kept at +his heels wherever he went, each day growing more and more astonished +if not to say hopeful, as I found myself treading the narrowest and most +disreputable streets of the city; halting at the shops of pawnbrokers; +peering into the back-rooms of liquor shops; mixing with the crowds that +infest the corner groceries at nightfall, and even slinking with hand on +the trigger of the pistol I carried in my pocket, up dark alleys where +every door that swung noiselessly to and fro as we passed, shut upon +haunts of such villainy as only is known to us of the police, or to +those good souls that for the sake of One whose example they follow, lay +aside their fears and sensitiveness to carry light into the dim pits of +this wretched world. At first I thought Mr. Blake might have some such +reason for the peculiar course he took. But his indifference to all +crowds where only men were collected, his silence where a word would +have been well received, convinced me it was a woman he was seeking and +that with an intentness which blinded him to the commonest needs of the +hour. I even saw him once in his hurry and abstraction, step across the +body of a child who had fallen face downward on the stones, and that +with an expression showing he was utterly unconscious of anything but an +obstacle in his path. The strangest part of it all was that he seemed to +have no fear. To be sure he took pains to leave his watch at home; but +with such a figure and carriage as he possessed, the absence of jewelry +could never deceive the eye for a moment as to the fact of his being +a man of wealth, and those he went among would do anything for money. +Perhaps, like me, he carried a pistol. At all events he shunned no spot +where either poverty lay hid or deviltry reigned, his proud stern head +bending to enter the lowest doors without a tremble of the haughty lips +that remained compressed as by an iron force; except when some poor +forlorn creature with flaunting head-gear, and tremulous hands, +attracted by his bearing would hastily brush against him, when he would +turn and look, perhaps speak, though what he said I always failed to +catch; after which he would hurry on as if possessed by seven devils. +The evenings of those three days were notable also. Two of them he +spent in the manner I have described; the third he went to the Windsor +House--where the Countess De Mirac had taken rooms--going up to the +ladies’ entrance and actually ringing the bell, only to start back and +walk up and down on the opposite side of the way, with his hands behind +his back, and his head bent, evidently deliberating as to whether he +should or should not carry out his original intention of entering. The +arrival of a carriage with the stately subject of his deliberations, +who from her elaborate costume had seemingly been to some kettledrum or +private reception, speedily put an end to his doubts. As the door opened +to admit her, I saw him cast one look at her heavily draped person, with +its snowy opera-cloak drawn tightly over the sweeping folds of her maize +colored silk, and shrink back with what sounded like a sigh of anger or +distrust, and without waiting for the closing of the door upon her, turn +toward home with a step that hesitated no longer. + +The fourth day to my infinite chagrin, I was sick and could not go with +him. All I could do was to wrap myself in blankets and sit in my window +from which I had the satisfaction of viewing him start as I supposed +upon his usual course. The rest of the day was employed in a long, +dull waiting for his return, only relieved by casual glimpses of Mrs. +Daniels’ troubled face as she appeared at one window or another of +the old-fashioned mansion before me. She seemed, too, to be unusually +restless, opening the windows and looking out with forlorn cranings of +her neck as if she too were watching for her master. Indeed I have +no doubt from what I afterwards learned, that she was in a state of +constant suspense during these days. Her frequent appearance at the +station house, where she in vain sought for some news of the girl in +whose fate she was so absorbed, confirmed this. Only the day before I +gave myself up to my unreserved espionage of Mr. Blake, she had had an +interview with Mr. Gryce in which she had let fall her apprehensions +that the girl was dead, and asked whether if that were the case, the +police would be likely to come into a knowledge of the fact. Upon being +assured that if she had not been privately made way with, there was +every chance in their favor, she had grown a little calmer, but before +going away had so far forgotten herself as to intimate that if some +result was not reached before another fortnight had elapsed, she should +take the matter into her own hands and--She did not say what she would +do, but her looks were of a very menacing character. It was no wonder, +then, that her countenance bore marks of the keenest anxiety as she +trod the halls of that dim old mansion, with its dusky corners rich +with bronzes and the glimmering shine of ancient brocades, breathing +suggestions of loss and wrong; or bent her wrinkled forehead to gaze +from the windows for the coming of one whose footsteps were ever +delayed. She happened to be looking out, when after a longer stroll than +usual the master of the house returned. As he made his appearance at the +corner, I saw her hurriedly withdraw her head and hide herself behind +the curtain, from which position she watched him as with tired steps and +somewhat dejected mien, he passed up the steps and entered the house. +Not till the door closed upon him, did she venture to issue forth and +with a hurried movement shut the blinds and disappear. This anxiety on +her part redoubled mine, and thankful enough was I when on the next day +I found myself well enough to renew my operations. To ferret out this +mystery, if mystery it was,--I still found myself forced to admit the +possibility of there being none--had now become the one ambition of my +life; and all because it was not only an unusually blind one, but of a +nature that involved danger to my position as detective, I entered upon +it with a zest rare even to me who love my work and all it involves with +an undivided passion. + +To equip myself, then, in a fresh disguise and to join Mr. Blake shortly +after he had left his own corner, was anything but a hardship to me that +bright winter morning, though I knew from past experience, a long and +wearisome walk was before me with nothing in all probability at the +end but reiterated disappointment. But for once the fates had willed +it otherwise. Whether Mr. Blake, discouraged at the failure of his own +attempts, whatever they were, felt less heart to prosecute them than +usual I cannot say, but we had scarcely entered upon the lower end of +the Bowery, before he suddenly turned with a look of disgust, and +gazing hurriedly about him, hailed a Madison Avenue car that was rapidly +approaching. I was at that moment on the other side of the way, but I +hurried forward too, and signaled the same car. But just as I was on the +point of entering it I perceived Mr. Blake step hastily back and with +his eyes upon a girl that was hurrying past him with a basket on her +arm, regain the sidewalk with a swiftness that argued his desire to stop +her. Of course I let the car pass me, though I did not dare approach him +too closely after my late conspicuous attempt to enter it with him. But +from my stand on the opposite curb-stone I saw him draw aside the girl, +who from her garments might have been the daughter or wife of any one +of the shiftless, drinking wretches lounging about on the four corners +within my view, and after talking earnestly with her for a few moments, +saunter at her side down Broome Street, still talking. Reckless at this +sight of the consequences which might follow his detection of the part +I was playing, I hasted after them, when I was suddenly disconcerted by +observing him hurriedly separate from the girl and turn towards me with +intention as it were to regain the corner he had left. Weighing in an +instant the probable good to be obtained by following either party, +I determined to leave Mr. Blake for one day to himself, and turn my +attention to the girl he had addressed, especially as she was tall and +thin and bore herself with something like grace. + +Barely bestowing a glance upon him, then, as he passed, in a vain +attempt to read the sombre expression of his inscrutable face grown +five years older in the last five days, I shuffled after the girl now +flitting before me down Broome Street. As I did so, I noticed her dress +to its minutest details, somewhat surprised to find how ragged and +uncouth it was. That Mr. Blake should stop a girl wherever seen, clad +in a black alpaca frock, a striped shawl and a Bowery hat trimmed with +feathers, I could easily understand; but that this creature with her +faded calico dress, dingy cape thrown carelessly over her head, and +ragged basket, should arrest his attention, was a riddle to me. I +hastened forward with intent to catch a glimpse of her countenance if +possible; but she seemed to have acquired wings to her feet since her +interview with Mr. Blake. Darting into a crowd of hooting urchins that +were rushing from Centre Street after a broken wagon and runaway horse, +she sped from my sight with such rapidity, I soon saw that my only hope +of overtaking her lay in running. I accordingly quickened my steps when +those same hooting youngsters getting in the way of my feet, I tripped +up and--well, I own I retired from that field baffled. Not entirely so, +however. Just as I was going down, I caught sight of the girl tearing +away from a box of garbage on the curb-stone; and when order having +been restored, by which lofty statement I mean to say when your humble +servant had regained his equilibrium, I awoke to the fact that she had +effectually disappeared, I hurried to that box and succeeded in finding +hanging to it a bit of rag easily recognized as a piece of the old +calico frock of nameless color which I had been following a moment +before. Regarding it as the sole spoils of a very unsatisfactory day’s +work, I put it carefully away in my pocket book, where it lay till--But +with all my zeal for compression, I must not anticipate. + +When I came home that afternoon I found myself unexpectedly involved in +a matter that for the remainder of the day at least, prevented me from +further attending to the affair I had in hand. The next morning Mr. +Blake did not start out as usual, and at noon I received intimation +from Fanny that he was preparing to take a journey. Where, she could +not inform me, nor when, though she thought it probable he would take an +early train. Mrs. Daniels was feeling dreadfully, she informed me; and +the house was like a grave. Greatly excited at this unexpected move on +Mr. Blake’s part, I went home and packed my valise with something of the +spirit of her who once said, under somewhat different circumstances I +allow, “Whither thou goest I will go.” + +The truth was, I had travelled so far and learned so little, that +my professional pride was piqued. That expression of Mr. Gryce still +rankled, and nothing could soothe my injured spirit now but success. +Accordingly when Mr. Blake stepped up to the ticket office of the Hudson +River Railroad next morning, to buy a ticket for Putney, a small town +in the northern part of Vermont, he found beside him a spruce +young drummer, or what certainly appeared such, who by some strange +coincidence, wanted a ticket for the same place. The fact did not seem +in the least to surprise him, nor did he cast me a look beyond the +ordinary glance of one stranger at another. Indeed Mr. Blake had no +appearance of being a suspicious man, nor do I think at this time, +he had the remotest idea that he was either watched or followed; an +ignorance of the truth which I took care to preserve by taking my seat +in a different car from him and not showing myself again during the +whole ride from New York to Putney. + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE HOUSE AT THE GRANBY CROSS ROADS + + +Why Mr. Blake should take a journey at all at this time, and why of +all places in the world he should choose such an insignificant town +as Putney for his destination, was of course the mystery upon which I +brooded during the entire distance. But when somewhere near five in the +afternoon I stepped from the cars on to the platform at Putney Station +only to hear Mr. Blake making inquiries in regard to a certain stage +running between that town and a still smaller village further east, I +own I was not only surprised but well-nigh nonplussed. Especially as +he seemed greatly disappointed to hear that it only ran once a day, and +then for an earlier train in the morning. + +“You will have to wait till to-morrow I fear,” said the ticket agent, +“unless the landlord of the hotel down yonder, can harness you up a +team. There is a funeral out west to-day and--” + +I did not wait to hear more but hurried down to the hotel he had pointed +out, and hunting up the landlord inquired if for love or money he could +get me any sort of a conveyance for Melville that afternoon. He assured +me it would be impossible, the livery stable as well as his own being +entirely empty. + +“Such a thing don’t happen here once in five years,” said he to me. “But +the old codger who is dead, though a queer dick was a noted personage in +these parts, and not a man, woman or child, who could find a horse, mule +or donkey, but what availed himself of the privilege. Even the doctor’s +spavined mare was pressed into service, though she halts on one leg and +stops to get her breath half a dozen times in going up one short hill. +You will have to wait for the stage, sir.” + +“But I am in a hurry,” said I as I saw Mr. Blake enter. “I have business +in Melville tonight, and I would pay anything in reason to get there.” + +But the landlord only shook his head; and drawing back with the air of +an abused man, I took up my stand in the doorway where I could hear the +same colloquy entered into with Mr. Blake, with the same unsatisfactory +termination. He did not take it quite as calmly as I did, though he +was of too reserved a nature to display much emotion over anything. +The prospect of a long tedious evening spent in a country hotel seemed +almost unendurable to him, but he finally succumbed to the force of +circumstances, as indeed he seemed obliged to do, and partaking of such +refreshment as the rather poorly managed hotel afforded, retired without +ceremony to his room, from which he did not emerge again till next +morning. In all this he had somehow managed not to give his name; and by +means of some inquiries I succeeded in making that evening, I found his +person was unknown in the town. + +By a little management I secured the next room to his, by which +arrangement I succeeded in passing a sleepless night, Mr. Blake spending +most of the wee sma’ hours in pacing the floor of his room, with an +unremitting regularity that had anything but a soothing effect upon my +nerves. Early the next morning we took the stage, he sitting on the back +seat, and I in front with the driver. There were other passengers, but +I noticed he never spoke to any of them, nor through all the long drive +did he once look up from the corner where he had ensconced himself. It +was twelve o’clock when we reached the end of the route, a small town +of somewhat less than the usual pretensions of mountain villages; so +insignificant indeed, that I found it more and more difficult to imagine +what the wealthy ex-Congressman could find in such a spot as this, to +make amends for a journey of such length and discomfort; when to my +increasing wonder I heard him give orders for a horse to be saddled and +brought round to the inn door directly after dinner. This was a move I +had not expected and it threw me a little aback, for although I had thus +far managed to hold myself so aloof from Mr. Blake, even while keeping +him under my eye, that no suspicion of my interest in his movements had +as yet been awakened, how could I thus for the third time follow his +order with one precisely similar, without attracting an attention that +would be fatal to my plans. Yet to let him ride off alone now, would be +to drop the trail at the very moment the scent became of importance. + +The landlord, a bustling, wiry little man all nervousness and questions, +unwittingly helped me at this crisis. + +“Are you going on to Perry, sir?” inquired he of that gentleman, “I have +been expecting a man along these three days bound for Perry.” + +“I am that man,” I broke in, stepping forward with some appearance of +asperity, “and I hope you won’t keep me waiting. A horse as soon as +dinner is over, do you hear? I am two days late now, and won’t stand any +nonsense.” + +And to escape the questions sure to follow, I strode into the +dining-room with a half-fierce, half-sullen countenance, that +effectually precluded all advances. During the meal I saw Mr. Blake’s +eye roam more than once towards my face; but I did not return his gaze, +or notice him in any way; hurrying through my dinner, and mounting the +first horse brought around, as if time were my only consideration. But +once on the road I took the first opportunity to draw rein and wait, +suddenly remembering that I had not heard Mr. Blake give any intimation +of the direction he intended taking. A few minutes revealed to me his +elegant form well mounted and showing to perfection in his closely +buttoned coat, slowly approaching up the road. Taking advantage of +a rise in the ground, I lingered till he was almost upon me, when I +cantered quickly on, fearing to arouse his apprehensions if I allowed +him to pass me on a road so solitary as that which now stretched out +before us: a move provocative of much embarassment to me, as I dared not +turn my head for the same reason, anxious as I was to keep him in sight. + +The roads dividing before me, at length gave me my first opportunity +to pause and look back. He was some fifty paces behind. Waiting till he +came up, I bowed with the surly courtesy I thought in keeping with the +character I had assumed, and asked if he knew which road led towards +Perry, saying I had come off in such haste I had forgotten to inquire my +way. He returned my bow, pointed towards the left hand road and saying, +“I know this does not,” calmly took it. + +Now here was a dilemma. If in face of this curt response I proceeded to +follow him, my hand was revealed at once; yet the circumstances +would admit of no other course. I determined to compromise matters by +pretending to take the right hand road till he was out of sight, when I +would return and follow him swiftly upon the left. Accordingly I reined +my horse to the right, and for some fifteen minutes galloped slowly +away towards the north; but another fifteen saw me facing the west, and +riding with a force and fury of which I had not thought the old mare +they had given me capable, till I put her to the test. It was not long +before I saw my fine gentleman trotting in front of me up a long but +gentle slope that rose in the distance; and slackening my own rein, I +withdrew into the forest at the side of the road, till he had passed its +summit and disappeared, when I again galloped forward. + +And thus we went on for an hour, over the most uneven country I ever +traversed, he always one hill ahead; when suddenly, by what instinct I +cannot determine, I felt myself approaching the end, and hastening to +the top of the ascent up which I was then laboring, looked down into the +shallow valley spread out before me. + +What a sight met my eyes if I had been intent on anything less practical +than the movements of the solitary horseman below! Hills on hills piled +about a verdant basin in whose depths nestled a scanty collection of +houses, in number so small they could be told upon the fingers of the +right hand, but which notwithstanding lent an indescribable aspect of +comfort to this remote region of hill and forest. + +But the vision of Mr. Blake pausing half way down the slope before me, +examining, yes examining a pistol which he held in his hand, soon put +an end to all ideas of romance. Somewhat alarmed I reined back; but his +action had evidently no connection with me, for he did not once glance +behind him, but kept his eye on the road which I now observed took a +short turn towards a house of so weird and ominous an appearance that I +scarcely marvelled at his precaution. + +Situated on a level track of land at the crossing of three roads, its +spacious front, rude and unpainted as it was, presented every appearance +of an inn, but from its moss-grown chimneys no smoke arose, nor could +I detect any sign of life in its shutterless windows and closed doors, +across which shivered the dark shadow of the one gaunt and aged pine, +that stood like a guard beside its tumbled-down porch. + +Mr. Blake seemed to have been struck by the same fact concerning its +loneliness, for hurriedly replacing his pistol in his breast pocket, he +rode slowly forward. I instantly conceived the plan of striking across +the belt of underbrush that separated me from this old dwelling, and by +taking my stand opposite its front, intercept a view of Mr. Blake as +he approached. Hastily dismounting, therefore, I led my horse into the +bushes and tied her to a tree, proceeding to carry out my plan on foot. +I was so far successful as to arrive at the further edge of the wood, +which was thick enough to conceal my presence without being too dense to +obstruct my vision, just as Mr. Blake passed on his way to this solitary +dwelling. He was looking very anxious, but determined. Turning my eyes +from him, I took another glance at the house, which by this movement I +had brought directly before me. It was even more deserted-looking than +I had thought; its unpainted front with its double row of blank windows +meeting your gaze without a response, while the huge old pine with half +its limbs dismantled of foliage, rattled its old bones against its sides +and moaned in its aged fashion like the solitary retainer of a dead +race. + +I own I felt the cold shivers creep down my back as that creaking sound +struck my ears, though as the day was chill with an east wind I dare say +it was more the effect of my sudden cessation from exercise, than of +any superstitious awe I felt. Mr. Blake seemed to labor under no such +impressions. Riding up to the front door he knocked without dismounting, +on its dismal panels with his riding whip. No response was heard. +Knitting his brows impatiently, he tried the latch: the door was locked. +Hastily running his eye over the face of the building, he drew rein and +proceeded to ride around the house, which he could easily do owing +to the absence of every obstruction in the way of fence or shrubbery. +Finding no means of entrance he returned again to the front door which +he shook with an impatient hand that however produced no impression +upon the trusty lock, and recognizing, doubtless, the futility of his +endeavors, he drew back, and merely pausing to give one other look at +its deserted front, turned his horse’s head, and to my great amazement, +proceeded with sombre mien and clouded brow to retake the road to +Melville. + +This old inn or decayed homestead was then the object of his lengthened +and tedious journey; this ancient house rotting away among the bleak +hills of Vermont, the bourne towards which his steps had been tending +for these past two days. I could not understand it. Rapidly emerging +from the spot where I had secreted myself, I in my turn made a circuit +of the house, if happily I should discover some loophole of entrance +which had escaped his attention. But every door and window was securely +barred, and I was about to follow his example and leave the spot, when +I saw two or three children advancing towards me down the cross roads, +gaily swinging their school books. I noticed they hesitated and huddled +together as they approached and saw me, but not heeding this, I accosted +them with a pleasant word or so, then pointing over my shoulder to the +house behind, asked who lived there. Instantly their already pale faces +grew paler. + +“Why,” cried one, a boy, “don’t you know? That is where the two wicked +men lived who stole the money out of the Rutland bank. They were put in +prison, but they got away and--” + +Here, the other, a little girl, plucked him by the sleeve with such +affright, that he himself took alarm and just giving me one quick stare +out of his wide eyes, grasped his companion by the hand and took to his +heels. As for myself I stood rooted to the ground in my astonishment. +This blank, sleepy old house the home of the notorious Schoenmakers +after whom half of the detectives of the country were searching? I could +scarcely credit my own ears. True I now remembered they had come from +these parts, still-- + +Turning round I eyed the house once more. How altered it looked to me! +What a murderous aspect it wore, and how dismally secret were the tight +shut windows and closely fastened doors, on one of which a rude cross +scrawled in red chalk met the eye with a mysterious significance. Even +the old pine had acquired the villainous air of the uncanny repositor of +secrets too dreadful to reveal, as it groaned and murmured to itself in +the keen east wind. Dark deeds and foul wrong seemed written all over +the fearful place, from the long strings of black moss that clung to +the worm-eaten eaves, to the worn stone with its great blotch of +something,--could it have been blood?--that served as a threshold to +the door. Suddenly with the quickness of lightning the thought flashed +across me, what could Mr. Blake, the aristocratic representative of New +York’s oldest family, have wanted in this nest of infamy? What errand +of hope, fear, despair, avarice or revenge, could have brought this +superior gentleman with his refined tastes and proudly reticent manners, +so many miles from home, to the forsaken den of a brace of hardy +villains whose name for two years now, had stood as the type of all that +was bold, bad and lawless, and for whom during the last six weeks the +prison had yawned, and the gallows hungered. Contemplation brought +no reply, and shocked at my own thoughts, I put the question by for +steadier brains than mine; and instead of trying further to solve it, +cast about how I was to gain entrance into this deserted building; for +to enter it I was more than ever determined, now that I had heard to +whom it had once belonged. + +Examining with a glance the several roads that branched off in every +direction from where I stood, I found them all equally deserted. Even +the school children had disappeared in some one of the four or five +houses scattered in the remote distance. + +If I was willing to enter upon any daring exploit, there was no one to +observe or interrupt. I resolved to make the attempt with which my mind +was full. This was to climb the old tree, and from one of the two or +three branches that brushed against the house, gain entrance at an +open garret window that stared at me from amid the pine’s dark needles. +Taking off my coat with a sigh over the immaculate condition of my new +cassimere trousers, I bent my energies to the task. A difficult one you +will say for a city lad, but thanks to fortune I was not brought up in +New York, and know how to climb trees with the best. With little more +than a scratch or so, I reached the window of which I have spoken, +and after a moment spent in regaining my breath, gave one spring and +accomplished my purpose. I alighted upon a heap of broken glass in a +large bare room. An ominous chill at once struck to my heart. Though +I am anything but a sensitive man as far as physical impressions are +concerned, there was something in the hollow echo that arose from the +four blank walls about me as my feet alighted on that rough, uncarpeted +floor, that struck a vague chill through my blood, and I actually +hesitated for the moment whether to pursue the investigations I had +promised myself, or beat a hasty retreat. A glance at the huge distorted +limbs swaying across the square of the open window decided me. It +was easy to enter by means of that unsteady support, but it would be +extremely unsafe to venture forth in that way. If I prized life and limb +I must seek some other method of egress. I at once put my apprehensions +in my pocket and entered upon my self imposed task. + +A single glance was sufficient to exhaust the resources of the empty +garret in which I found myself. Two or three old chairs piled in one +corner, a rusty stove or so, a heap of tattered and decaying clothing, +were all that met my gaze. Taking my way, then, at once to the ladder, +whose narrow ends projecting above a hole in the garret floor, seemed +to proffer the means of reaching the rooms below, I proceeded to descend +into what to my excited imagination looked like a gulf of darkness. It +proved, however, to be nothing more nor less than an unlighted hall of +small dimensions, with a stair-case at one end and a door at the other, +which, upon opening I found myself in a large, square room whose immense +four-post bedstead entirely denuded of its usual accompaniments of bed +and bolster at once struck my eye and for a moment held it enchained. +There were other articles in the room; a disused bureau, a rocking +chair, even a table, but nothing had such a ghostly look as that antique +bedstead with its curtains of calico tied back over its naked framework, +like rags draped from the bare bones of a skeleton. Passing hurriedly +by, I tried a closet door or so, finding little, however, to reward my +search; and eager to be done with what was every moment becoming more +and more drearisome, I hastened across the floor to the front of the +house where I found another hall and a row of rooms that, while not +entirely stripped of furniture, were yet sufficiently barren to +offer little encouragement to my curiosity. One only, a small but not +uncomfortable apartment, showed any signs of having been occupied within +a reasonable length of time; and as I paused before its hastily spread +bed, thrown together as only a man would do it, and wondering why the +room was so dark, looked up and saw that the window was entirely covered +by an old shawl and a couple of heavy coats that had been hastily nailed +across it, I own I felt my hand go to my breast pocket almost as if I +expected to see the wild faces of the dreaded Schoenmakers start up all +aglare from one of the dim corners before me. Rushing to the window, I +tore down with one sweep of my arm both coat and shawl, and with a start +discovered that the window still possessed its draperies in the shape of +a pair of discolored and tattered curtains tied with ribbons that must +once have been brilliant and cheery of color. + +Nor was this the only sign in the room of a bygone presence that had +possessed a taste for something beyond the mere necessities of life. +On the grim coarsely papered wall hung more than one picture; cut from +pictorial newspapers to be sure, but each and every one, if I may be +called a judge of such matters, possessing some quality of expression to +commend it to a certain order of taste. They were all strong pictures. +Vivid faces of men and women in daring positions; a hunter holding back +a jaguar from his throat; a soldier protecting his comrade from the +stroke; and most striking of all, a woman lissome as she was powerful, +starting aghast and horror stricken from--what? I could not tell; a +rough hand had stripped the remainder of the picture from the wall. + +A bit of candle and a half sheet of a newspaper lay on the floor. I +picked up the paper. It was a Rutland Herald and bore the date of two +days before. As I read I realized what I had done. If these daring +robbers were not at this very moment in the house, they had been there, +and that within two or three days. The broken panes of glass in the +garret above were now explained. I was not the first one who had climbed +that creaking pine tree this fall. + +Something like a sensible dread of a very possible danger now seized +hold of me. If I had stumbled upon these strangely subtile, yet +devilishly bold creatures in their secret lair, the pistol I carried was +not going to save me. Shut in like a fox in a hole, I had little to hope +for, if they once made their appearance at the stairhead or came upon me +from any of the dim halls of the crazy old dwelling, which I now began +to find altogether too large for my comfort. Stealing cautiously forth +from the room in which I had found so much to disconcert me, I crept +towards the front staircase and listened. All was deathly quiet. The +old pine tree moaned and twisted without, and from time to time the wind +came sweeping down the chimney with an unearthly shrieking sound that +was weirdly in keeping with the place. But within and below all was +still as the tomb, and though in no ways reassured, I determined to +descend and have the suspense over at once. I did so, pistol in hand +and ears stretched to their utmost to catch the slightest rustle, but no +sound came to disturb me, nor did I meet on this lower floor the sign of +any other presence in the house but my own. Passing hastily through what +appeared to be a sort of rude parlor, I stepped into the kitchen and +tried one of the windows. Finding I could easily lift it from the +inside, I drew my breath with ease for the first time since I had +alighted among the broken glass above, and turning back, deliberately +opened the door of the kitchen stove, and looked in. As I half expected, +I found a pile of partly charred rags, showing where the wretches had +burned their prison clothing, and proceeding further, picked up from +the ashes a ring which whether or not they were conscious of having +attempted to destroy in this way I cannot say, but which I thankfully +put in my pocket against the day it might be required as proof. + +Discerning nothing more in that quarter inviting interest, I asked +myself if I had nerve to descend into the cellar. Finally concluding +that that was more than could be expected from any man in my position, I +gave one look of farewell to the damp and desolate walls about me, then +with a breath of relief jumped from the kitchen window again into the +light and air of day. As I did so I could swear I heard a door within +that old house swing on its hinges and softly close. With a thrill I +recognized the fact that it came from the cellar. + + * * * * + +My thoughts on the road back to Melville were many and conflicting. +Chief above them all, however, rose the comfortable conclusion that in +the pursuit of one mysterious affair, I had stumbled, as is often the +case, upon the clue to another of yet greater importance, and by so +doing got a start that might yet redound greatly to my advantage. For +the reward offered for the recapture of the Schoenmakers was large, and +the possibility of my being the one to put the authorities upon their +track, certainly appeared after this day’s developements, open at least +to a very reasonable hope. At all events I determined not to let the +grass grow under my feet till I had informed the Superintendent of what +I had seen and heard that day in the old haunt of these two escaped +convicts. + +Arrived at the public house in Melville, and learning that Mr. Blake had +safely returned there an hour before, I drew the landlord to one side +and asked what he could tell me about that old house of the two noted +robbers Schoenmaker, I had passed on my way back among the hills. + +“Wa’al now,” replied he, “this is curious. Here I’ve just been answering +the gentleman up stairs a heap of questions concerning that self same +old place, and now you come along with another batch of them; just as +if that rickety old den was the only spot of interest we had in these +parts.” + +“Perhaps that may be the truth,” I laughed. “Just now when the papers +are full of these rogues, anything concerning them must be of superior +interest of course.” And I pressed him again to give me a history of the +house and the two thieves who had inhabited it. + +“Wa’al,” drawled he “‘taint much we know about them, yet after all it +may be a trifle too much for their necks some day. Time was when nobody +thought especial ill of them beyond a suspicion or so of their being +somewhat mean about money. That was when they kept an inn there, but +when the robbery of the Rutland bank was so clearly traced to them, +more than one man about here started up and said as how they had +always suspected them Shoenmakers of being villains, and even hinted at +something worse than robbery. But nothing beyond that one rascality has +yet been proved against them, and for that they were sent to jail for +twenty years as you know. Two months ago they escaped, and that is the +last known of them. A precious set, too, they are; the father being only +so much the greater rogue than the son as he is years older.” + +“And the inn? When was that closed?” + +“Just after their arrest.” + +“Has’nt it been opened since?” + +“Only once when a brace of detectives came up from Troy to investigate, +as they called it.” + +“Who has the key?” + +“Ah, that’s more than I can tell you.” + +I dared not ask how my questions differed from those of Mr. Blake, nor +indeed touch upon that point in any way. I was chiefly anxious now +to return to New York without delay; so paying my bill I thanked the +landlord, and without waiting for the stage, remounted my horse and +proceeded at once to Putney where I was fortunate enough to catch the +evening train. By five o’clock next morning I was in New York where I +proceeded to carry out my programme by hastening at once to headquarters +and reporting my suspicions regarding the whereabouts of the +Schoenmakers. The information was received with interest and I had +the satisfaction of seeing two men despatched north that very day with +orders to procure the arrest of the two notable villains wherever found. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. A WORD OVERHEARD + + +That evening I had a talk with Fanny over the area gate. She came out +when she saw me approach, with her eyes staring and her whole form in a +flutter. + +“O,” she cried, “such things as I have heard this day!” + +“Well,” said I, “what? let me hear too.” She put her hand on her heart. +“I never was so frightened,” whispered she, “I thought I should have +fainted right away. To hear that elegant lady use such a word as +crime,--” + +“What elegant lady?” interrupted I. “Don’t begin in the middle of your +story, that’s a good girl; I want to hear it all.” + +“Well,” said she, calming down a little, “Mrs. Daniels had a visitor +to-day, a lady. She was dressed--” + +“O, now,” interrupted I for the second time, “you can leave that out. +Tell me what her name was and let the fol-de-rols go.” + +“Her name?” exclaimed the girl with some sharpness, “how should I know +her name; she did’nt come to see me.” + +“How did she look then? You saw her I suppose?” + +“And was’nt that what I was telling you, when you stopped me. She looked +like a queen, that she did; as grand a lady as ever I see, in her velvet +dress sweeping over the floor, and her diamonds as big as--” + +“Was she a dark woman?” I asked. + +“Her hair was black and so were her eyes, if that is what you mean.” + +“And was she very tall and proud looking?” + +The girl nodded. “You know her?” whispered she. + +“No,” said I, “not exactly; but I think I can tell who she is. And so +she called to-day on Mrs. Daniels, did she.” + +“Yes, but I guess she knew master would be home before she got away.” + +“Come,” said I, “tell me all about it; I’m getting impatient.” + +“And ain’t I telling you?” said she. “It was about three o’clock this +afternoon, the time I go up stairs to dress, so I just hangs about in +the hall a bit, near the parlor door, and I hear her gossiping with Mrs. +Daniels almost as if she was an old friend, and Mrs. Daniels answering +her mighty stiffly and as if she was’nt glad to see her at all. But the +lady didn’t seem to mind, but went on talking as sweet as honey, and +when they came out, you would have thought she loved the old woman like +a sister to see her look into her face and say something about knowing +how busy she was, but that it would give her so much pleasure if she +would come some day to see her and talk over old times. But Mrs. Daniels +was’nt pleased a bit and showed plain enough she did’nt like the lady, +fine as she was in her ways. She was going to answer her too, but just +then the front door opened and Mr. Blake with his satchel in his hand, +came into the house. And how he did start, to be sure, when he saw them, +though he tried to say something perlite which she did’nt seem to take +to at all, for after muttering something about not expecting to see him, +she put her hand on the knob and was going right out. But he stopped her +and they went into the parlor together while Mrs. Daniels stood staring +after them like one mad, her hand held out with his bag and umbrella in +it, stiff as a statter in the Central Park. She did’nt stand so long, +though, but came running down the hall, as if she was bewitched. I was +dreadful flustered, for though I was hid behind the wall that juts out +there by the back stairs, I was afraid she would see me and shame me +before Mr. Blake. But she passed right by and never looked up. ‘There is +something dreadful mysterious in this,’ thought I, and I just made up +my mind to stay where I was till Mr. Blake and the lady should come out +again from the parlor. I did’nt have to wait very long. In a few minutes +the door opened and they stepped out, he ahead and she coming after. I +thought this was queer, he is always so dreadful perlite in his ways, +but I thought it was a deal queerer when I saw him go up the front +stairs, she hurrying after, looking I cannot tell you how, but awful +troubled and anxious, I should say. + +“They went into that room of his he calls his studio and though I knew +it might cost me my place if I was found out, I could’nt help following +and listening at the keyhole.” + +“And what did you hear?” I asked, for she paused to take breath. + +“Well, the first thing I heard was a cry of pleasure from her, and the +words, ‘You keep that always before you? You cannot dislike me, then, as +much as you pretend.’ I don’t know what she meant nor what he did, but +he stepped across the room and I heard her cry out this time as if she +was hurt as well as awful surprised; and he talked and talked, and I +could’nt catch a word, he spoke so low; and by and by she sobbed just a +little, and I got scared and would have run away but she cried out with +a kind of shriek, ‘O, don’t say any more; to think that crime should +come into our family, the proudest in the land. How could you, Holman, +how could you.’ Yes,” the girl went on, flushing in her excitement till +she was as red as the cherry ribbons in her cap, “those were the very +words she used: ‘To think that crime should come into our family! the +proudest one in the land!’ And she called him by his first name, and +asked him how he could do it.” + +“And what did Mr. Blake say?” returned I, a little taken back myself at +this result of my efforts with Fanny. + +“O, I did’nt wait to hear. I did’nt wait for anything. If folks was +going to talk about such things as that, I thought I had better be +anywhere than listening at the keyhole. I went right up stairs I can +tell you.” + +“And whom have you told of what you heard in the half dozen hours that +have gone by?” + +“Nobody; how could you think so mean of me when I promised, and--” + +It is not necessary to go any further into this portion of the +interview. + +The Countess De Mirac possessed to its fullest extent the present fine +lady’s taste for bric-a-brac. So much I had learned in my inquiries +concerning her. Remembering this, I took the bold resolution of +profiting by this weakness of hers to gain admission to her presence, +she being the only one sharing Mr. Blake’s mysterious secret. Borrowing +a valuable antique from a friend of mine at that time in the business, +I made my appearance the very next day at her apartments, and sending +in an urgent request to see Madame, by the trim negress who answered my +summons, waited in some doubt for her reply. + +It came all too soon; Madame was ill and could see no one. I was not, +however, to be baffled by one rebuff. Handing the basket I held to the +girl, I urged her to take it in and show her mistress what it contained, +saying it was a rare article which might never again come her way. + +The girl complied, though with a doubtful shake of the head which was +anything but encouraging. Her incredulity, however, must have been +speedily rebuked, for she almost immediately returned without the +basket, saying Madame would see me. + +My first thoughts upon entering the grand lady’s presence, was that the +girl had been mistaken, for I found the Countess walking the floor in an +abstracted way, drying a letter she had evidently but just completed, by +shaking it to and fro with an unsteady hand; the placque I had brought, +lying neglected on the table. + +But at sight of my respectful form standing with bent head in the +doorway, she hurriedly thrust the letter into a book and took up the +placque. As she did so I marked her well and almost started at the +change I observed in her since that evening at the Academy. It was not +only that she was dressed in some sort of loose dishabille that was +in eminent contrast to the sweeping silks and satins in which I had +hitherto beheld her adorned; or that she was laboring under some +physical disability that robbed her dark cheek of the bloom that was its +chiefest charm. The change I observed went deeper than that; it was more +as if a light had been extinguished in her countenance. It was the same +woman I had beheld standing like a glowing column of will and strength +before the melancholy form of Mr. Blake, but with the will and strength +gone, and with them all the glow. + +“She no longer hopes,” thought I, and already felt repaid for my +trouble. + +“This is a very pretty article you have brought me,” said she with +something of the unrestrained love of art which she undoubtedly +possessed, showing itself through all her languor. “Where did it come +from, and what recommendations have you, to prove it is an honest sale +you offer me?” + +“None,” returned I, ignoring with a reassuring smile the first question, +“except that I should not be afraid if all the police in New York knew I +was here with this fine placque for sale.” + +She gave a shrug of her proud shoulder that bespoke the French Countess +and softly ran her finger round the edge of the placque. + +“I don’t need anything more of this kind,” said she languidly; +“besides,” and she set it down with a fretful air, “I am in no mood to +buy this afternoon.” Then shortly, “What do you ask for it?” + +I named a fabulous price. + +She started and cast me a keen glance. “You had better take it to some +one else; I have no money to throw away.” + +With a hesitating hand I lifted the placque towards the basket. “I would +very much like to sell it to you,” said I. “Perhaps--” + +Just then a lady’s fluttering voice rose from the room beyond inquiring +for the Countess, and hurriedly taking the placque from my hand with +an impulsive “O there’s Amy,” she passed into the adjoining apartment, +leaving the door open behind her. + +I saw a quick interchange of greetings between her and a fashionably +dressed lady, then they withdrew to one side with the ornament I had +brought, evidently consulting in regard to its merits. Now was my time. +The book in which she had placed the letter she had been writing lay on +the table right before me, not two inches from my hand. I had only +to throw back the cover and my curiosity would be satisfied. Taking +advantage of a moment when their backs were both turned, I pressed open +the book with a careful hand, and with one eye on them and one on the +sheet before me, managed to read these words:-- + + + MY DEAREST CECILIA. + + I have tried in vain to match the sample you sent me at Stewart’s, + Arnold’s and McCreery’s. If you still insist upon making up the + dress in the way you propose, I will see what Madame Dudevant can + do for us, though I cannot but advise you to alter your plans and + make the darker shade of velvet do. I went to the Cary reception + last night and met Lulu Chittenden. She has actually grown old, + but was as lively as ever. She created a great stir in Paris when + she was there; but a husband who comes home two o’clock in the + morning with bleared eyes and empty pockets, is not conducive to + the preservation of a woman’s beauty. How she manages to retain + her spirits I cannot imagine. You ask me news of cousin Holman. I + meet him occasionally and he looks well, but has grown into the + most sombre man you ever saw. In regard to certain hopes of which + you have sometimes made mention, let me assure you they are no + longer practicable. He has done what-- + +Here the conversation ceased in the other room, the Countess made a +movement of advance and I closed the book with an inward groan over my +ill-luck. + +“It is very pretty,” said she with a weary air; “but as I remarked +before, I am not in the buying mood. If you will take half you mention, +I may consider the subject, but--” + +“Pardon me, Madame,” I interrupted, being in no wise anxious to leave +the placque behind me, “I have been considering the matter and I hold to +my original price. Mr. Blake of Second Avenue may give it to me if you +do not.” + +“Mr. Blake!” She eyed me suspiciously. “Do you sell to him?” + +“I sell to anyone I can,” replied I; “and as he has an artist’s eye for +such things--” + +Her brows knitted and she turned away. “I do not want it;” said she, +“sell it to whom you please.” + +I took up the placque and left the room. + + + +CHAPTER IX. A FEW GOLDEN HAIRS + + +When a few days from that I made my appearance before Mr. Gryce, it was +to find him looking somewhat sober. “Those Schoenmakers,” said he, “are +making a deal of trouble. It seems they escaped the fellows up north and +are now somewhere in this city, but where--” + +An expressive gesture finished the sentence. + +“Is that so?” exclaimed I. “Then we are sure to nab them. Given time and +a pair of low, restless German thieves, I will wager anything, our hands +will be upon them before the month is over. I only hope, when we do come +across them, it will not be to find their betters too much mixed up with +their devilish practices.” And I related to him what Fanny had told me a +few evenings before. + +“The coil is tightening,” said he. “What the end will be I don’t know. +Crime, said she? I wish I knew in what blind hole of the earth that girl +we are after lies hidden.” + +As if in answer to this wish the door opened and one of our men came +in with a letter in his hand. “Ha!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, after he had +perused it, “look at that.” + +I took the letter from his hand and read: + + The dead body of a girl such as you describe was found in the East + river off Fiftieth Street this morning. From appearance has been + dead some time. Have telegraphed to Police Headquarters for + orders. Should you wish to see the body before it is removed to + the Morgue or otherwise disturbed, please hasten to Pier 48 E. R. + GRAHAM. + +“Come,” said I, “let’s go and see for ourselves. If it should be the +one--” + +“The dinner party proposed by Mr. Blake for to-night, may have its +interruptions,” he remarked. + +I do not wish to make my story any longer than is necessary, but I must +say that when in an hour or so later, I stood with Mr. Gryce before the +unconscious form of that poor drowned girl I felt an unusual degree +of awe stealing over me: there was so much mystery connected with this +affair, and the parties implicated were of such standing and repute. + +I almost dreaded to see the covering removed from her face lest I should +behold, what? I could not have told if I had tried. + +“A trim made body enough,” cried the official in charge as Mr. Gryce +lifted an end of the cloth that enveloped her and threw it back. “Pity +the features are not better preserved.” + +“No need for us to see the features,” exclaimed I, pointing to the locks +of golden red hair that hung in tangled masses about her. “The hair is +enough; she is not the one.” And I turned aside, asking myself if it was +relief I felt. + +To my surprise Mr. Gryce did not follow. + +“Tall, thin, white face, black eyes.” I heard him whisper to himself. +“It is a pity the features are not better preserved.” + +“But,” said I, taking him by the arm, “Fanny spoke particularly of +her hair being black, while this girl’s--Good heavens!” I suddenly +ejaculated as I looked again at the prostrate form before me. “Yellow +hair or black, this is the girl I saw him speaking to that day in +Broome Street. I remember her clothes if nothing more.” And opening my +pocketbook, I took out the morsel of cloth I had plucked that day from +the ash barrel, lifted up the discolored rags that hung about the body +and compared the two. The pattern, texture and color were the same. + +“Well,” said Mr. Gryce, pointing to certain contusions, like marks from +the blow of some heavy instrument on the head and bared arms of the girl +before us; “he will have to answer me one question anyhow, and that +is, who this poor creature is who lies here the victim of treachery or +despair.” And turning to the official he asked if there were any other +signs of violence on the body. + +The answer came deliberately, “Yes, she has evidently been battered to +death.” + +Mr. Gryce’s lips closed with grim decision. “A most brutal murder,” said +he and lifting up the cloth with a hand that visibly trembled, he softly +covered her face. + +“Well,” said I as we slowly paced back up the pier, “there is one thing +certain, she is not the one who disappeared from Mr. Blake’s house.” + +“I am not so sure of that.” + +“How!” said I. “You believed Fanny lied when she gave that description +of the missing girl upon which we have gone till now?” + +Mr. Gryce smiled, and turning back, beckoned to the official behind us. +“Let me have that description,” said he, “which I distributed among the +Harbor Police some days ago for the identification of a certain corpse I +was on the lookout for.” + +The man opened his coat and drew out a printed paper which at Mr. +Gryce’s word he put into my hand. It ran as follows: + + Look out for the body of a young girl, tall, well shaped but thin, + of fair complexion and golden hair of a peculiar bright and + beautiful color, and when found, acquaint me at once. + G. + +“I don’t understand,” began I. + +But Mr. Gryce tapping me on the arm said in his most deliberate tones, +“Next time you examine a room in which anything of a mysterious nature +has occurred, look under the bureau and if you find a comb there with +several long golden hairs tangled in it, be very sure before you draw +any definite conclusions, that your Fannys know what they are talking +about when they declare the girl who used that comb had black hair on +her head.” + + + +CHAPTER X. THE SECRET OF MR. BLAKE’S STUDIO + + +“Mr. Blake is at dinner, sir, with company, but I will call him if you +say so.” + +“No,” returned Mr. Gryce; “show us into some room where we can be +comfortable and we will wait till he has finished.” + +The servant bowed, and stepping forward down the hall, opened the door +of a small and cosy room heavily hung with crimson curtains. “I will +let him know that you are here,” said he, and vanished towards the +dining-room. + +“I doubt if Mr. Blake will enjoy the latter half of his bill of fare as +much as the first,” said I, drawing up one of the luxurious arm-chairs +to the side of my principal. “I wonder if he will break away from his +guests and come in here?” + +“No; if I am not mistaken we shall find Mr. Blake a man of nerve. Not a +muscle of his face will show that he is disturbed.” + +“Well,” said I, “I dread it.” + +Mr. Gryce looked about on the gorgeous walls and the rich old fashioned +furniture that surrounded him, and smiled one of his grimmest smiles. + +“Well, you may,” said he. + +The next instant a servant stood in the doorway, bearing to our great +astonishment, a tray well set with decanter and glasses. + +“Mr. Blake’s compliments, gentlemen,” said he, setting it down on the +table before us. “He hopes you will make yourselves at home and he will +see you as soon as possible.” + +The humph! of Mr. Gryce when the servant had gone would have done your +soul good, also the look he cast at the pretty Dresden Shepherdess on +the mantel-piece, as I reached out my hand towards the decanter. Somehow +it made me draw back. + +“I think we had better leave his wine alone,” said he. + +And for half an hour we sat there, the wine untouched between us, +listening alternately to the sound of speech-making and laughter that +came from the dining-room, and the solemn ticking of the clock as it +counted out the seconds on the mantel-piece. Then the guests came in +from the table, filing before us past the open door on their way to +the parlors. They were all gentlemen of course--Mr. Blake never invited +ladies to his house--and gentlemen of well known repute. The dinner had +been given in honor of a certain celebrated statesman, and the character +of his guests was in keeping with that of the one thus complimented. + +As they went by us gaily indulging in the jokes and light banter with +which such men season a social dinner, I saw Mr. Gryce’s face grow sober +by many a shade; and when in the midst of it all, we heard the voice +of Mr. Blake rise in that courteous and measured tone for which it +is distinguished, I saw him reach forward and grasp his cane with an +uneasiness I had never seen displayed by him before. But when some time +later, the guests having departed, the dignified host advanced with some +apology to where we were, I never beheld a firmer look on Mr. Gryce’s +face than that with which he rose and confronted him. Mr. Blake’s own +had not more character in it. + +“You have called at a rather inauspicious time, Mr. Gryce,” said the +latter, glancing at the card which he held in his hand. “What may your +business be? Something to do with politics, I suppose.” + +I surveyed the man in amazement. Was this great politician stooping +to act a part, or had he forgotten our physiognomies as completely as +appeared? + +“Our business is not politics,” replied Mr. Gryce; “but fully as +important. May I request the doors be closed?” + +I thought Mr. Blake looked surprised, but he immediately stepped to the +door and shut it. Then coming back, he looked at Mr. Gryce more closely +and a change took place in his manner. + +“I think I have seen you before,” said he. + +Mr. Gryce bowed with just the suspicion of a smile. “I have had the +honor of consulting you before in this very house,” observed he. + +A look of full recognition passed over the dignified countenance of the +man before us. + +“I remember,” said he, shrugging his shoulders in the old way. “You are +interested in some servant girl or other who ran away from this house a +week or so ago. Have you found her?” This with no apparent concern. + +“We think we have,” rejoined Mr. Gryce with some solemnity. “The river +gives up its prey now and then, Mr. Blake.” + +Still only that look of natural surprise. + +“Indeed! You do not mean to say she has drowned herself? I am sorry for +that, a girl who had once lived in my house. What trouble could she have +had to drive her to such an act?” + +Mr. Gryce advanced a step nearer the gentleman. + +“That is what we have come here to learn,” said he with a deliberation +that yet was not lacking in the respect due to a man so universally +esteemed as Mr. Blake. “You who have seen her so lately ought to be able +to throw some light upon the subject at least.” + +“Mr.--” he again glanced at the card, “Mr. Gryce,--excuse me--I believe +I told you when you were here before that I had no remembrance of this +girl at all. That if such a person was in my house I did not know it, +and that all questions put to me on that subject would be so much labor +thrown away.” + +Mr. Gryce bowed. “I remember,” said he. “I was not alluding to any +connection you may have had with the girl in this house, but to the +interview you were seen to have with her on the corner of Broome Street +some days ago. You had such an interview, did you not?” + +A flush, deep as it was sudden, swept over Mr. Blake’s usually unmoved +cheek. “You are transgressing sir,” said he and stopped. Though a man of +intense personal pride, he had but little of that quality called temper, +or perhaps if he had, thought it unwise to display it on this occasion. +“I saw and spoke to a girl on the corner of that street some days ago,” + he went on more mildly, “but that she was the one who lived here, +I neither knew at the time nor feel willing to believe now without +positive proof.” Then in a deep ringing tone the stateliness of which it +would be impossible to describe, he inquired, “Have the city authorities +presumed to put a spy on my movements, that the fact of my speaking to +a poor forsaken creature on the corner of the street should be not only +noted but remembered?” + +“Mr. Blake,” observed Mr. Gryce, and I declare I was proud of my +superior at that moment, “no man who is a true citizen and a +Christian should object to have his steps followed, when by his own +thoughtlessness, perhaps, he has incurred a suspicion which demands it.” + +“And do you mean to say that I have been followed,” inquired he, +clenching his hand and looking steadily, but with a blanching cheek, +first at Mr. Gryce then at me. + +“It was indispensable,” quoth that functionary gently. + +The outraged gentleman riveted his gaze upon me. “In town and out of +town?” demanded he. + +I let Mr. Gryce reply. “It is known that you have lately sought to visit +the Schoenmakers,” said he. + +Mr. Blake drew a deep breath, cast his eyes about the handsome apartment +in which we were, let them rest for a moment upon a portrait that graced +one side of the wall, and which was I have since learned a picture of +his father, and slowly drew forward a chair. “Let me hear what your +suspicions are,” said he. + +I noticed Mr. Gryce colored at this; he had evidently been met in a +different way from what he expected. “Excuse me,” said he, “I do not say +I have any suspicions; my errand is simply to notify you of the death of +the girl you were seen to speak with, and to ask whether or not you +can give us any information that can aid us in the matter before the +coroner.” + +“You know I have not. If I have been as closely followed as you say, you +must know why I spoke to that girl and others, why I went to the house +of the Schoenmakers and--Do you know?” he suddenly inquired. + +Mr. Gryce was not the man to answer such a question as that. He eyed the +rich signet ring that adorned the hand of the gentleman before him and +suavely smiled. “I am ready to listen to any explanations,” said he. + +Mr. Blake’s haughty countenance became almost stern. “You consider you +have a right to demand them; let me hear why.” + +“Well,” said Mr. Gryce with a change of tone, “you shall. Unprofessional +as it is, I will tell you why I, a member of the police force, dare +enter the house of such a man as you are, and put him the questions I +have concerning his domestic affairs. Mr. Blake, imagine yourself in +a detective’s office. A woman comes in, the housekeeper of a respected +citizen, and informs us that a girl employed by her as seamstress has +disappeared in a very unaccountable way from her master’s house +the night before; in fact been abducted as she thinks from certain +evidences, through the window. Her manner is agitated, her appeal for +assistance urgent, though she acknowledges no relationship to the girl +or expresses any especial cause for her interest beyond that of common +humanity. ‘She must be found,’ she declares, and hints that any sum +necessary will be forthcoming, though from what source after her own +pittance is expended she does not state. When asked if her master has +no interest in the matter, she changes color and puts us off. He never +noticed his servants, left all such concerns to her, etc.; but shows +fear when a proposition is made to consult him. Next imagine yourself +with the detectives in that gentleman’s house. You enter the girl’s +room; what is the first thing you observe? Why that it is not only one +of the best in the house, but that it is conspicuous for its comforts if +not for its elegancies. More than that, that there are books of poetry +and history lying around, showing that the woman who inhabited it was +above her station; a fact which the housekeeper is presently brought to +acknowledge. You notice also that the wild surmise of her abduction by +means of the window, has some ground in appearance, though the fact +that she went with entire unwillingness is not made so apparent. The +housekeeper, however, insists in a way that must have had some special +knowledge of the girl’s character or circumstances to back it, that she +never went without compulsion; a statement which the torn curtains +and the track of blood over the roof of the extension, would seem to +emphasize. A few other facts are made known. First, a pen-knife is +picked up from the grass plot in the yard beneath, showing with what +instrument the wound was inflicted, whose drippings made those marks of +blood alluded to. It was a pearl-handled knife belonging to the writing +desk found open on her table, and its frail and dainty character proved +indisputably, that it was employed by the girl herself, and that against +manifest enemies; no man being likely to snatch up any such puny weapon +for the purpose either of offence or defence. That these enemies were +two and were both men, was insisted upon by Mrs. Daniels who overheard +their voices the night before. + +“Mr. Blake, such facts as these arouse curiosity, especially when +the master of the house being introduced upon the scene, he fails to +manifest common human interest, while his housekeeper betrays in every +involuntary gesture and expression she makes use of, her horror if not +her fear of his presence, and her relief at his departure. Yes,” he +exclaimed, unheeding the sudden look here cast him by Mr. Blake, “and +curiosity begets inquiry, and inquiry elucidated further facts such as +these, that the mysterious master of the house was in his garden at the +hour of the girl’s departure, was even looking through the bars of his +gate when she, having evidently escaped from her captors, came back with +every apparent desire to reenter her home, but seeing him, betrayed an +unreasonable amount of fear and fled back even into the very arms of +the men she had endeavored to avoid. Did you speak sir?” asked Mr. Gryce +suddenly stopping, with a sly look at his left boot tip. + +Mr. Blake shook his head. “No,” said he shortly, “go on.” But that last +remark of Mr. Gryce had evidently made its impression. + +“Inquiry revealed, also, two or three other interesting facts. First, +that this gentleman qualified though he was to shine in ladies’ society, +never obtruded himself there, but employed his leisure time instead, in +walking the lower streets of the city, where he was seen more than +once conversing with certain poor girls at street corners and in blind +alleys. The last one he talked with, believed from her characteristics +to be the same one that was abducted from his house--” + +“Hold there,” said Mr. Blake with some authority in his tone, “there you +are mistaken; that is impossible.” + +“Ah, and why?” + +“The girl you allude to had bright golden hair, something which the +woman who lived in my house did not possess.” + +“Indeed. I thought you had never noticed the woman who sewed for you, +sir,--did not know how she looked?” + +“I should have noticed her if she had had such hair as the girl you +speak of.” + +Mr. Gryce smiled and opened his pocketbook. + +“There is a sample of her hair, sir,” said he, taking out a thin strand +of brilliant hair and showing it to the gentleman before him. “Bright +you see, and golden as that of the unfortunate creature you talked with +the other night.” + +Mr. Blake stooped forward and lifted it with a hand that visibly +trembled. “Where did you get this?” asked he at last, clenching it to +his breast with sudden passion. + +“From out of the comb which the girl had been using the night before.” + +The imperious man flung it hastily from him. + +“We waste our time,” said he, looking Mr. Gryce intently in the face. +“All that you have said does not account for your presence here nor the +tone you have used while addressing me. What are you keeping back? I am +not a man to be trifled with.” + +Mr. Gryce rose to his feet. “You are right,” said he, and he gave a +short glance in my direction. “All that I have said would not perhaps +justify me in this intrusion, if--” he looked again towards me. “Do you +wish me to continue?” he asked. + +Mr. Blake’s intent look deepened. “I see no reason why you should not +utter the whole,” said he. “A good story loses nothing by being told +to the end. You wish to say something about my journey to Schoenmaker’s +house, I suppose.” + +Mr. Gryce gravely shook his head. + +“What, you can let such a mystery as that go without a word?” + +“I am not here to discuss mysteries that have no connection with the +sewing-girl in whose cause I am interested.” + +“Then,” said Mr. Blake, turning for the first time upon my superior with +all the dignified composure for which he was eminent, “it is no +longer necessary for us to prolong this interview. I have allowed, nay +encouraged you to state in the plainest terms what it was you had or +imagined you had against me, knowing that my actions of late, seen by +those who did not possess the key to them, must have seemed a little +peculiar. But when you say you have no interest in any mystery +disconnected with the girl who has lived the last few months in +my house, I can with assurance say that it is time we quitted this +unprofitable conversation, as nothing which I have lately done, said or +thought here or elsewhere has in any way had even the remotest bearing +upon that individual; she having been a stranger to me while in my +house, and quite forgotten by me, after her unaccountable departure +hence.” + +Mr. Gryce’s hand which had been stretched out towards the hitherto +untouched decanter before him, suddenly dropped. “You deny then,” said +he, “all connection between yourself and the woman, lady or sewing-girl, +who occupied that room above our heads for eleven months previous to the +Sunday morning I first had the honor to make your acquaintance.” + +“I am not in the habit of repeating my assertions,” said Mr. Blake with +some severity, “even when they relate to a less disagreeable matter than +the one under discussion.” + +Mr. Gryce bowed, and slowly reached out for his hat; I had never seen +him so disturbed. “I am sorry,” he began and stopped, fingering his +hat-brim nervously. Suddenly he laid his hat back, and drew up his form +into as near a semblance of dignity as its portliness would allow. + +“Mr. Blake,” said he, “I have too much respect for the man I believed +you to be when I entered this house to-night, to go with the thing +unsaid which is lying at present like a dead weight upon my lips. I dare +not leave you to the consequence of my silence; for duty will compel +me to speak some day and in some presence where you may not have +the opportunity which you can have here, to explain yourself with +satisfaction. Mr. Blake I cannot believe you when you say the girl who +lived in this house was a stranger to you.” + +Mr. Blake drew his proud form up in a disdain that was only held in +check by the very evident honesty of the man before him. “You +are courageous at least,” said he. “I regret you are not equally +discriminating.” And raising Mr. Gryce’s hat he placed it in his hand. + +“Pardon me,” said that gentleman, “I would like to justify myself before +I go. Not with words,” he proceeded as the other folded his arms with a +sarcastic bow. “I am done with words; action accomplishes the rest. Mr. +Blake I believe you consider me an honest officer and a reliable man. +Will you accompany me to your private room for a moment? There is +something there which may convince you I was neither playing the fool +nor the bravado when I uttered the phrase I did an instant ago.” + +I expected to hear the haughty master of the house refuse a request so +peculiar. But he only bowed, though in a surprised way that showed +his curiosity if no more was aroused. “My room and company are at your +disposal,” said he, “but you will find nothing there to justify you in +your assertions.” + +“Let me at least make the effort,” entreated my superior. + +Mr. Blake smiling bitterly immediately led the way to the door. “The +man may come,” he remarked carelessly as Mr. Gryce waved his hand in my +direction. “Your justification if not mine may need witnesses.” + +Rejoiced at the permission, for my curiosity was by this time raised to +fever pitch, I at once followed. Not without anxiety. The assured poise +of Mr. Blake’s head seemed to argue that the confidence betrayed by my +superior might receive a shock; and I felt it would be a serious blow +to his pride to fail now. But once within the room above, my doubts +speedily fled. There was that in Mr. Gryce’s face which anyone +acquainted with him could not easily mistake. Whatever might be +the mysterious something which the room contained, it was evidently +sufficient in his eyes to justify his whole conduct. + +“Now sir,” said Mr. Blake, turning upon my superior with his sternest +expression, “the room and its contents are before you; what have you to +say for yourself.” + +Mr. Gryce equally stern, if not equally composed, cast one of his +inscrutable glances round the apartment and without a word stepped +before the picture that was as I have said, the only ornamentation of +the otherwise bare and unattractive room. + +I thought Mr. Blake looked surprised, but his face was not one that +lightly expressed emotion. + +“A portrait of my cousin the Countess De Mirac,” said he with a certain +dryness of tone hard to interpret. + +Mr. Gryce bowed and for a moment stood looking with a strange lack of +interest at the proudly brilliant face of the painting before him, then +to our great amazement stepped forward and with a quick gesture turned +the picture rapidly to the wall, when--Gracious heavens! what a vision +started out before us from the reverse side of that painted canvas! No +luxurious brunette countenance now, steeped in pride and languor, but a +face--Let me see if I can describe it. But no, it was one of those faces +that are indescribable. You draw your breath as you view it; you feel as +if you had had an electric shock; but as for knowing ten minutes later +whether the eyes that so enthralled you were blue or black, or the locks +that clustered halo-like about a forehead almost awful in its expression +of weird, unfathomable power, were brown or red, you could not nor would +you pretend to say. It was the character of the countenance itself that +impressed you. You did not even know if this woman who might have been +anything wonderful or grand you ever read of, were beautiful or not. You +did not care; it was as if you had been gazing on a tranquil evening +sky and a lightning flash had suddenly startled you. Is the lightning +beautiful? Who asks! But I know from what presently transpired, that +the face was ivory pale in complexion, the eyes deeply dark, and the +hair,--strange and uncanny combination,--of a bright and peculiar golden +hue. + +“You dare!” came forth in strange broken tones from Mr. Blake’s lips. + +I instantly turned towards him. He was gazing with a look that was half +indignant, half menacing at the silent detective who with eyes drooped +and finger directed towards the picture, seemed to be waiting for him to +finish. + +“I do not understand an audacity that allows you to--to--” Was this +the haughty gentleman we had known, this hesitating troubled man with +bloodless lips and trembling hands? + +“I declared my desire to justify myself,” said my principal with a +respectful bow. “This is my justification. Do you note the color of the +woman’s hair whose portrait hangs with its face turned to the wall in +your room? Is it like or unlike that of the strand you held in your hand +a few moments ago; a strand taken as I swear, hair by hair from the comb +of the poor creature who occupied the room above. But that is not all,” + he continued as Mr. Blake fell a trifle aback; “just observe the dress +in which this woman is painted; blue silk you see, dark and rich; a wide +collar cunningly executed, you can almost trace the pattern; a brooch; +then the roses in the hand, do you see? Now come with me upstairs.” + +Too much startled to speak, Mr. Blake, haughty aristocrat as he was, +turned like a little child and followed the detective who with an +assured step and unembarassed mien led the way into the deserted room +above. + +“You accuse me of insulting you, when I express disbelief of your +assertion that there was no connection between you and the girl Emily,” + said Mr. Gryce as he lit the gas and unlocked that famous bureau drawer. +“Will you do so any longer in face of these?” And drawing off the towel +that lay uppermost, he revealed the neatly folded dress, wide collar, +brooch and faded roses that lay beneath. “Mrs. Daniels assures us these +articles belonged to the sewing-woman Emily; were brought here by her. +Dare you say they are not the ones reproduced in the portrait below?” + +Mr. Blake uttering a cry sank on his knees before the drawer. “My God! +My God!” was his only reply, “what are these?” Suddenly he rose, his +whole form quivering, his eyes burning. “Where is Mrs. Daniels?” he +cried, hastily advancing and pulling the bell. “I must see her at once. +Send the house-keeper here,” he ordered as Fanny smiling demurely made +her appearance at the door. + +“Mrs. Daniels is out,” returned the girl, “went out as soon as ever you +got up from dinner, sir.” + +“Gone out at this hour?” + +“Yes sir; she goes out very often nowadays, sir.” + +Her master frowned. “Send her to me as soon as she returns,” he +commanded, and dismissed the girl. + +“I don’t know what to make of this,” he now said in a strange tone, +approaching again the touching contents of that open bureau drawer with +a look in which longing and doubt seemed in some way to be strangely +commingled. “I cannot explain the presence of these articles in this +room; but if you will come below I will see what I can do to make other +matters intelligible to you. Disagreeable as it is for me to take anyone +into my confidence, affairs have gone too far for me to hope any longer +to preserve secrecy as to my private concerns.” + + + +CHAPTER XI. LUTTRA + + +“Gentlemen,” said he as he ushered us once more into his studio, “you +have presumed, and not without reason I should say, to infer that the +original of this portrait and the woman who has so long occupied the +position of sewing-woman in my house, are one and the same. You will no +longer retain that opinion when I inform you that this picture, strange +as it may appear to you, is the likeness of my wife.” + +“Wife!” We both were astonished as I take it, but it was my voice which +spoke. “We were ignorant you ever had a wife.” + +“No doubt,” continued our host smiling bitterly, “that at least has +evaded the knowledge even of the detectives.” Then with a return to +his naturally courteous manner, “She was never acknowledged by me as my +wife, nor have we ever lived together, but if priestly benediction can +make a man and woman one, that woman as you see her there is my lawful +wife.” + +Rising, he softly turned the lovely, potent face back to the wall, +leaving us once more confronted by the dark and glowing countenance of +his cousin. + +“I am not called upon,” said he, “to go any further with you than this. +I have told you what no man till this hour has ever heard from my lips, +and it should serve to exonerate me from any unjust suspicions you may +have entertained. But to one of my temperament, secret scandal and the +gossip it engenders is only less painful than open notoriety. If I leave +the subject here, a thousand conjectures will at once seize upon you, +and my name if not hers will become, before I know it, the football of +gossip if not of worse and deeper suspicion than has yet assailed me. +Gentleman I take you to be honest men; husbands, perhaps, and fathers; +proud, too, in your way and jealous of your own reputation and that of +those with whom you are connected. If I succeed in convincing you that +my movements of late have been totally disconnected with the girl whose +cause you profess solely to be interested in, may I count upon your +silence as regards those actions and the real motive that led to them?” + +“You may count upon my discretion as regards all matters that do not +come under the scope of police duty,” returned Mr. Gryce. “I haven’t +much time for gossip.” + +“And your man here?” + +“O, he’s safe where it profits him to be.” + +“Very well, then, I shall count upon you.” + +And with the knitted brows and clinched hands of a proudly reticent +man who, perhaps for the first time in his life finds himself forced to +reveal his inner nature to the world, he began his story in these words: + +“Difficult as it is for me to introduce into a relation like this the +name of my father, I shall be obliged to do so in order to make my +conduct at a momentous crisis of my life intelligible to you. My father, +then, was a man of strong will and a few but determined prejudices. +Resolved that I should sustain the reputation of the family for wealth +and respectability, he gave me to understand from my earliest years, +that as long as I preserved my manhood from reproach, I had only to make +my wishes known, to have them immediately gratified; while if I crossed +his will either by indulging in dissipation or engaging in pursuits +unworthy of my name, I no longer need expect the favor of his +countenance or the assistance of his purse. + +“When, therefore, at a certain period of my life, I found that the +charms of my cousin Evelyn were making rather too strong an impression +upon my fancy for a secured peace of mind, I first inquired how such a +union would affect my father, and learning that it would be in direct +opposition to his views, cast about in my mind what I should do to +overcome my passion. Travel suggested itself, and I took a trip to +Europe. But the sight of new faces only awakened in me comparisons +anything but detrimental to the beauty of her who was at that time my +standard of feminine loveliness. Nature and the sports connected with a +wild life were my next resort. I went overland to California, roamed the +orange groves of Florida, and probed the wildernesses of Canada and +our Northern states. It was during these last excursions that an event +occurred which has exercised the most material influence upon my fate, +though at the time it seemed to me no more than the matter of a day. + +“I had just returned from Canada and was resting in tolerable enjoyment +of a very beautiful autumn at Lake George, when a letter reached me +from a friend then loitering in the vicinity, urging me to join him in +a certain small town in Vermont where trout streams abounded and what is +not so often the case under the circumstances, fishers were few. + +“Being in a somewhat reckless mood I at once wrote a consent, and before +another day was over, started for the remote village whence his letter +was postmarked. I found it by no means easy of access. Situated in the +midst of hills some twenty miles or so distant from any railroad, I +discovered that in order to reach it, a long ride in a stage-coach was +necessary, followed by a somewhat shorter journey on horseback. Not +being acquainted with the route, I timed my connections wrong, so that +when evening came I found myself riding over a strange road in the +darkest night I had ever known. As if this was not enough, my horse +suddenly began to limp and presently became so lame I found it +impossible to urge her beyond a slow walk. It was therefore with no +ordinary satisfaction that I presently beheld a lighted building in the +distance, which as I approached resolved itself into an inn. Stopping +in front of the house, which was closed against the chill night air, +I called out lustily for someone to take my horse, whereupon the door +opened and a man appeared on the threshold with a lantern in his hand. I +at once made my wishes known, receiving in turn a somewhat gruff, + +“‘Well it is a nasty night and it will be nastier before it’s over;’ an +opinion instantly endorsed by a sudden swoop of wind that rushed by at +that moment, slamming the door behind him and awakening over my head a +lugubrious groaning as from the twisting boughs of some old tree, that +was almost threatening in its character. + +“‘You had better go in,’ said he, ‘the rain will come next.’ + +“I at once leaped from my horse and pushing open the door with main +strength, entered the house. Another man met me on the threshold who +merely pointing over his shoulder to a lighted room in his rear, passed +out without a word, to help the somewhat younger man, who had first +appeared, in putting up my horse. I at once accepted his silent +invitation and stepped into the room before me. Instantly I found myself +confronted by the rather startling vision of a young girl of a unique +and haunting style of beauty, who rising at my approach now stood with +her eyes on my face and her hands resting on the deal table before which +she had been sitting, in an attitude expressive of mingled surprise +and alarm. To see a woman in that place was not so strange; but such +a woman! Even in the first casual glance I gave her, I at once +acknowledged to myself her extraordinary power. Not the slightness of +her form, the palor of her countenance, or the fairness of the locks of +golden red hair that fell in two long braids over her bosom, could for +a moment counteract the effect of her dark glance or the vivid almost +unearthly force of her expression. It was as if you saw a flame +upstarting before you, waving tremulously here and there, but burning +and resistless in its white heat. I took off my hat with deference. + +“A shudder passed over her, but she made no effort to return my +acknowledgement. As we cast our eyes dilating with horror, down some +horrible pit upon whose verge we suddenly find ourselves, she allowed +her gaze for a moment to dwell upon my face, then with a sudden lifting +of her hand, pointed towards the door as if to bid me depart--when it +swung open with that shrill rushing of wind that involuntarily awakes a +shudder within you, and the two men entered and came stamping up to my +side. Instantly her hand sunk, not feebly as with fear, but calmly as if +at the bidding of her will, and without waiting for them to speak, she +turned away and quietly left the room. As the door closed upon her I +noticed that she wore a calico frock and that her face did not own one +perfect feature. + +“‘Go after Luttra and tell her to make up the bed in the northwest +room,’ said the elder of the two in deep gutteral tones unmistakably +German in their accent, to the other who stood shaking the wet off his +coat into the leaping flames of a small wood fire that burned on the +hearth before us. + +“‘O, she’ll do without my bothering,’ was the sullen return. ‘I’m wet +through.’ + +“The elder man, a large powerfully framed fellow of some fifty years or +so, frowned. It was an evil frown, and the younger one seemed to feel +it. He immediately tossed his coat onto a chair and left the room. + +“‘Boys are so obstropolous now-a-days,’ remarked his companion to me +with what he evidently intended for a conciliatory nod. ‘In my time they +were broke in, did what they were told and asked no questions.’ + +“I smiled to myself at his calling the broad shouldered six-footer who +had just left us a boy, but merely remarking, ‘He is your son is he +not!’ seated myself before the blaze which shot up a tongue of white +flame at my approach, that irresistibly recalled to my fancy the +appearance of the girl who had gone out a moment before. + +“‘O, yes, he is my son, and that girl you saw here was my daughter; I +keep this inn and they help me, but it is a slow way to live, I can tell +you. Travel on these roads is slim.’ + +“‘I should think likely,’ I returned, remembering the half dozen or so +hills up which I had clambered since I took to my horse. ‘How far are we +from Pentonville?’ + +“‘O, two or three miles,’ he replied, but in a hurried kind of a way. +‘Not far in the daytime but a regular journey in a night like this?’ + +“‘Yes,’ said I, as the house shook under a fresh gust; ‘it is fortunate +I have a place in which to put up.’ + +“He glanced down at my baggage which consisted of a small hand bag, +an over-coat and a fishing pole, with something like a gleam of +disappointment. + +“‘Going fishing?’ he asked. + +“‘Yes,’ I returned. + +“‘Good trout up those streams and plenty of them,’ he went on. ‘Going +alone?’ + +“I did not half like his importunity, but considering I had nothing +better to do, replied as affably as possible. ‘No, I expect to meet a +friend in Pentonville who will accompany me.” + +“His hand went to his beard in a thoughtful attitude and he cast me +what, with my increased experience of the world, I should now consider a +sinister glance. ‘Then you are expected?’ said he. + +“Not considering this worth reply, I stretched out my feet to the blaze +and began to warm them, for I felt chilled through. + +“‘Been on the road long?’ he now asked, glancing at the blue flannel +suit I wore. + +“‘All summer,’ I returned, + +“I again thought he looked disappointed. + +“‘From Troy or New York?’ he went on with a vague endeavor to appear +good naturally off hand. + +“‘New York.’ + +“‘A big place that,’ he continued. ‘I was there once, lots of money +stored away in them big buildings down in Wall Street, eh?’ + +“I assented, and he drew a chair up to my side, a proceeding that was +interrupted, however, by the reentrance of his son, who without any +apology crowded into the other side of the fire-place in a way to +sandwich me between them. Not fancying this arrangement which I, +however, imputed to ignorance, I drew back and asked if my room was +ready. It seemed it was not, and unpleasantly as it promised, I felt +forced to reseat myself and join in, if not support, the conversation +that followed. + +“A half hour passed away, during which the wind increased till it almost +amounted to a gale. Spurts of rain dashed against the windows with a +sharp crackling sound that suggested hail, while ever and anon a distant +roll as of rousing thunder, rumbled away among the hills in a long and +reverberating peal, that made me feel glad to be housed even under the +roof of these rude and uncongenial creatures. Suddenly the conversation +turned upon the time and time-pieces, when in a low even tone I heard +murmured behind me, + +“‘The gentleman’s room is ready;’ and turning, I saw standing in +the doorway the slight figure of the young girl whose appearance had +previously so impressed me. + +“I immediately arose. ‘Then I will proceed to it at once,’ said I, +taking up my traps and advancing towards her. + +“‘Do not be alarmed if you hear creaks and cracklings all over the +house,’ observed the landlord as I departed. ‘The windows are loose and +the doors ill-fitting. In such a storm as this they make noise enough +to keep an army awake. The house is safe enough though and if you don’t +mind noise--’ + +“‘O I don’t mind noise,’ rejoined I, feeling at that moment tired enough +to fall into a doze on the staircase. ‘I shall sleep, never fear,’ and +without further ado followed the girl upstairs into a large clumsily +furnished room whose enormous bed draped with heavy curtains at once +attracted my attention. + +“‘O I cannot sleep under those things,’ remarked I, with a gesture +towards the dismal draperies which to me were another name for +suffocation. + +“With a single arm-sweep she threw them back. ‘Is there anything more I +can do for you?’ asked she, glancing hastily about the room. + +“I thanked her and said ‘no,’ at which she at once departed with a look +of still determination upon her countenance that I found it hard to +explain. + +“Left alone in that large, bare and dimly lighted room, with the wind +shrieking in the chimney and the powerful limbs of some huge tree +beating against the walls without, with a heavy thud inexpressibly +mournful, I found to my surprise and something like dismay, that the +sleepiness which had hitherto oppressed me, had in some unaccountable +way entirely fled. In vain I contemplated the bed, comfortable enough +now in its appearance that the stifling curtains were withdrawn; no +temptation to invade it came to arouse me from the chair into which I +had thrown myself. It was as if I felt myself under the spell of some +invisible influence that like the eye of a basilisk, held me enchained. +I remember turning my head towards a certain quarter of the wall as if +I half expected to encounter there the bewildering glance of a serpent. +Yet far from being apprehensive of any danger, I only wondered over the +weakness of mind that made such fancies possible. + +“An extra loud swirl of the foliage without, accompanied by a quick +vibration of the house, aroused me at last. If I was to lose the sense +of this furious storm careering over my head, I must court sleep at +once. Rising, I drew off my coat, unloosened my vest and was about to +throw it off, when I bethought me of a certain wallet it contained. +Going to the door in some unconscious impulse of precaution I suppose, I +locked myself in, and then drawing out my wallet, took from it a roll of +bills which I put into a small side pocket, returning the wallet to its +old place. + +“Why I did this I can scarcely say. As I have before intimated, I +was under no special apprehension. I was at that time anything but a +suspicious man, and the manner and appearance of the men below struck me +as unpleasantly disagreeable but nothing more. But I not only did what I +have related, but allowed the lamp to remain lighted, lying down finally +in my clothes; an almost unprecedented act on my part, warranted however +as I said to myself, by the fury of the gale which at that time seemed +as if it would tumble the roof over our heads. + +“How long I lay listening to the creakings and groanings of the rickety +old house, I cannot say, nor how long I remained in the doze which +finally seized me as I became accustomed to the sounds around and over +me. Enough that before the storm had passed its height, I awoke as if at +the touch of a hand, and leaping with a bound out of the bed, beheld +to my incredible amazement, the alert, nervous form of Luttra standing +before me. She had my coat in her hand, and it was her touch that had +evidently awakened me. + +“‘I want you to put this on,’ said she in a low thrilling tone totally +new in my experience, ‘and come with me. The house is unsafe for you to +remain in. Hear how it cracks and trembles. Another blast like that and +we shall be roofless.’ + +“She was moving toward the door, which to my amazement stood ajar, but +my hesitation stopped her. + +“‘Won’t you come?’ she whispered, turning her face towards me with a +look of such potent determination, I followed in spite of myself ‘I dare +not let you stay here, your blood will be upon my head.’ + +“‘You exaggerate,’ I replied, shrinking back with a longing look at the +comfortable bed I had just left. ‘These old houses are always strong. +It will take many such a gust as that you hear, to overturn it, I assure +you.’ + +“‘I exaggerate!’ she returned with a look of scorn impossible to +describe. ‘Hark!’ she said, ‘hear that.’ + +“I did hear, and I must acknowledge that it seemed is if we were about +to be swept from our foundations. + +“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘but it is a fearful night to be out in.’ + +“‘I shall go with you,’ said she. + +“‘In that case--’ I began with an ill-advised attempt at gallantry which +she cut short with a gesture. + +“‘Here is your hat,’ remarked she, ‘and here is your bag. The +fishing-pole must remain, you cannot carry it.’ + +“‘But,--’ I expostulated. + +“‘Hush!’ said she with her ear turned towards the depths of the +staircase at the top of which we stood. ‘My father and brother will +think as you do that it is folly to leave the shelter of a roof for the +uncertainties of the road on such a night as this, but you must not heed +them. I tell you shelter this night is danger, and that the only safety +to be found is on the stormy highway.’ + +“And without waiting for my reply, she passed rapidly down stairs, +pushed open a door at the bottom, and stepped at once into the room we +had left an hour or so before. + +“What was there in that room that for the first time struck an ominous +chill as of distinct peril through my veins? Nothing at first sight, +everything at the second. The fire which had not been allowed to die +out, still burned brightly on the ruddy hearthstone, but it was not that +which awakened my apprehension. Nor was it the loud ticking clock on the +mantel-piece with its hand pointing silently to the hour of eleven. Nor +yet the heavy quiet of the scantily-furnished room with its one lamp +burning on the deal table against the side of the wall. It was the sight +of those two powerful men drawn up in grim silence, the one against the +door leading to the front hall, the other against that opening into the +kitchen. + +“A glance at Luttra standing silent and undismayed at my side, however, +instantly reassured me. With that will exercised in my favor, I could +not but win through whatever it was that menaced me. Slinging my bag +over my shoulder, I made a move towards the door and the silent figure +of my host. But with a quick outreaching of her hand, she drew me back. + +“‘Stand still!’ said she. ‘Karl,’ she went on, turning her face towards +the more sullen but less intent countenance of her brother, ‘open the +door and let this gentleman pass. He finds the house unsafe in such a +gale and desires to leave it. At once!’ she continued as her brother +settled himself more determinedly against the lock: ‘I don’t often ask +favors.’ + +“‘The man is a fool that wants to go out in a night like this,’ quoth +the fellow with a dogged move; ‘and so are you to encourage it. I think +too much of your health to allow it.’ + +“She did not seem to hear. ‘Will you open the door?’ she went on, not +advancing a step from the fire, before which she had placed herself and +me.’ + +“‘No, I won’t,’ was the brutal reply. ‘Its been locked for the night and +its not me nor one like me, that will open it.’ + +“With a sudden whitening of her already pale face, she turned towards +her father. He was not even looking at her. + +“‘Some one must open the house,’ said she, glancing back at her brother. +‘This gentleman purposes to leave and his whim must be humored. Will you +unlock that door or shall I?’ + +“An angry snarl interrupted her. Her father had bounded from the door +where he stood and was striding hastily towards her. In my apprehension +I put up my arm for a shield, for he looked ready to murder her, but +I let it drop again as l caught her glance which was like white flame +undisturbed by the least breeze of personal terror. + +“‘You will stop there,’ said she, pointing to a spot a few feet from +where she stood. ‘Another step and I let that for which I have heard +you declare you would peril your very soul, fall into the heart of the +flames.’ And drawing from her breast a roll of bills, she stretched them +out above the fire before which she was standing. + +“‘You -----’ broke from the gray-bearded lips of the old man, but he +stopped where he was, eyeing those bills as if fascinated. + +“‘I am not a girl of many words, as you know,’ continued she in a lofty +tone inexpressibly commanding. ‘You may strangle me, you may kill me, +it matters little; but this gentleman leaves the house this night, or I +destroy the money with a gesture.’ + +“‘You -----’ again broke from those quivering lips, but the old man did +not move. + +“Not so the younger. With a rush he left his post and in another instant +would have had his powerful arms about her slender form, only that I +met him half way with a blow that laid him on the floor at her feet. +She said nothing, but one of the bills immediately left her hand and +fluttered into the fire where it instantly shrivelled into nothing. + +“With the yell of a mad beast wounded in his most vulnerable spot, the +old man before us stamped with his heel upon the floor. + +“‘Stop!’ cried he; and going rapidly to the front door he opened it. +‘There!’ shrieked he, ‘if you will be fools, go! and may the lightning +blast you. But first give me the money.’ + +“‘Come from the door,’ said she, reaching out her left hand for the +lantern hanging at the side of the fireplace, ‘and let Karl light this +and keep himself out of the way.’ + +“It was all done. In less time than I can tell it, the old man had +stepped from the door, the younger one had lit the lantern and we were +in readiness to depart. + +“‘Now do you proceed,’ said she to me, ‘I will follow.’ + +“‘No,’ said I, ‘we will go together.’ + +“‘But the money?’ growled the heavy voice of my host over my shoulder. + +“‘I will give it to you on my return,’ said the girl.” + + + +CHAPTER XII. A WOMAN’S LOVE + + +“Shall I ever forget the blast of driving rain that struck our faces and +enveloped us in a cloud of wet, as the door swung on its hinges and let +us forth into the night; or the electric thrill that shot through me as +that slender girl grasped my hand and drew me away through the blinding +darkness. It was not that I was so much affected by her beauty as +influenced by her power and energy. The fury of the gale seemed to bend +to her will, the wind lend wings to her feet. I began to realize what +intellect was. Arrived at the roadside, she paused and looked back. The +two burly forms of the men we had left behind us were standing in the +door of the inn; in another moment they had plunged forth and towards +us. With a low cry the young girl leaped towards a tree where to +my unbounded astonishment I beheld my horse standing ready saddled. +Dragging the mare from her fastenings, she hung the lantern, burning as +it was, on the pommel of the saddle, struck the panting creature a smart +blow upon the flank, and drew back with a leap to my side. + +“The startled horse snorted, gave a plunge of dismay and started away +from us down the road. + +“‘We will wait,’ said Luttra. + +“The words were no sooner out of her mouth than her father and brother +rushed by. + +“‘They will follow the light,’ whispered she; and seizing me again by +the hand, she hurried me away in the direction opposite to that +which the horse had taken. ‘If you will trust me, I will bring you to +shelter,’ she murmured, bending her slight form to the gusty wind but +relaxing not a whit of her speed. + +“‘You are too kind,’ I murmured in return. ‘Why should you expose +yourself to such an extent for a stranger?’ + +“Her hand tightened on mine, but she did not reply, and we hastened +on as speedily as the wind and rain would allow. After a short but +determined breasting of the storm, during which my breath had nearly +failed me, she suddenly stopped. + +“‘Do you know,’ she exclaimed in a low impressive tone, ‘that we are on +the verge of a steep and dreadful precipice? It runs along here for a +quarter of a mile and it is not an uncommon thing for a horse and rider +to be dashed over it in a night like this.’ + +“There was something in her manner that awakened a chill in my veins +almost as if she had pointed out some dreadful doom which I had +unwittingly escaped. + +“‘This is, then, a dangerous road,’ I murmured. + +“‘Very,’ was her hurried and almost incoherent reply. + +“How far we travelled through the mud and tangled grasses of that +horrible road I do not know. It seemed a long distance; it was probably +not more than three quarters of a mile. At last she paused with a short +‘Here we are;’ and looking up, I saw that we were in front of a small +unlighted cottage. + +“No refuge ever appeared more welcome to a pair of sinking wanderers I +am sure. Wet to the skin, bedrabbled with mud, exhausted with breasting +the gale, we stood for a moment under the porch to regain our breath, +then with her characteristic energy she lifted the knocker and struck a +smart blow on the door. + +“‘We will find shelter here,’ said she. + +“She was not mistaken. In a few moments we were standing once more +before a comfortable fire hastily built by the worthy couple whose +slumbers we had thus interrupted. As I began to realize the sweetness of +conscious safety, all that this young, heroic creature had done for me +swept warmly across my mind. Looking up from the fire that was beginning +to infuse its heat through my grateful system, I surveyed her as she +slowly undid her long braids and shook them dry over the blaze, and +almost started to see how young she was. Not more than sixteen I should +say, and yet what an invincible will shone from her dark eyes and +dignified her slender form; a will gentle as it was strong, elevated +as it was unbending. I bowed my head as I watched her, in grateful +thankfulness which I presently put into words. + +“At once she drew herself erect. ‘I did but my duty,’ said she quietly. +‘I am glad I was prospered in it.’ Then slowly. ‘If you are grateful, +sir, will you promise to say nothing of--of what took place at the inn?’ + +“Instantly I remembered a suspicion which had crossed my mind while +there, and my hand went involuntarily to my vest pocket. The roll of +bills was gone. + +“She did not falter. ‘I would be relieved if you would,’ continued she. + +“I drew out my empty hand, looked at it, but said nothing. + +“‘Have you lost anything?’ asked she. ‘Search in your overcoat pockets.’ + +“I plunged my hand into the one nearest her and drew it out with +satisfaction; the roll of bills was there. ‘I give you my promise,’ said +I. + +“‘You will find a bill missing,’ she murmured; ‘for what amount I do not +know; the sacrifice of something was inevitable.’ + +“‘I can only wonder over the ingenuity you displayed, as well as express +my appreciation for your bravery,’ returned I with enthusiasm. ‘You are +a noble girl.’ + +“She put out her hand as if compliments hurt her. ‘It is the first time +they have ever attempted anything like that,’ cried she in a quick low +tone full of shame and suffering. ‘They have shown a disposition to--to +take money sometimes, but they never threatened life before. And they +did threaten yours. They saw you take out your money, through a hole +pierced in the wall of the room you occupied, and the sight made them +mad. They were going to kill you and then tumble you and your horse over +the precipice below there. But I overheard them talking and when they +went out to saddle the horse, I hurried up to your room to wake you. I +had to take possession of the bills; you were not safe while you held +them. I took them quietly because I hoped to save you without betraying +them. But I failed in that. You must remember they are my father and my +brother.’ + +“‘I will not betray them,’ said I. + +“She smiled. It was a wintry gleam but it ineffably softened her face. I +became conscious of a movement of pity towards her. + +“‘You have a hard lot,’ remarked I. ‘Your life must be a sad one.’ + +“She flashed upon me one glance of her dark eye. ‘I was born for +hardship,’ said she, ‘but--’ and a sudden wild shudder seized her, ‘but +not for crime.’ + +“The word fell like a drop of blood wrung from her heart. + +“‘Good heavens!’ cried I, ‘and must you--’ + +“‘No,’ rang from her lips in a clarion-like peal; ‘some things cut the +very bonds of nature. I am not called upon to cleave to what will drag +me into infamy.’ Then calmly, as if speaking of the most ordinary matter +in the world, ‘I shall never go back to that house we have left behind +us, sir.’ + +“‘But,’ cried I, glancing at her scanty garments, ‘where will you go? +What will you do? You are young--’ + +“‘And very strong,’ she interrupted. ‘Do not fear for me.’ And her smile +was like a burst of sudden sunshine. + +“I said no more that night. + +“But when in the morning I stumbled upon her sitting in the kitchen +reading a book not only above her position but beyond her years, +a sudden impulse seized me and I asked her if she would like to be +educated. The instantaneous illumining of her whole face was sufficient +reply without her low emphatic words, + +“‘I would be content to study on my knees to know what some women do, +whom I have seen.’ + +“It is not necessary for me to relate with what pleasure I caught at +the idea that here was a chance to repay in some slight measure the +inestimable favor she had done me; nor by what arguments I finally won +her to accept an education at my hands as some sort of recompense for +the life she had saved. The advantage which it would give her in her +struggle with the world she seemed duly to appreciate, but that so +great a favor could be shown her without causing me much trouble and an +unwarrantable expense, she could not at once be brought to comprehend, +and till she could, she held out with that gentle but inflexible will of +hers. The battle, however, was won at last and I left her in that little +cottage, with the understanding that as soon as the matter could be +arranged, she was to enter a certain boarding-school in Troy with the +mistress of which I was acquainted. Meanwhile she was to go out to +service at Melville and earn enough money to provide herself with +clothes. + +“I was a careless fellow in those days but I kept my promise to that +girl. I not only entered her into that school for a course of three +years, but acting through its mistress who had taken a great fancy to +her, supplied her with the necessities her position required. It was so +easy; merely the signing of a check from time to time, and it was +done. I say this because I really think if it had involved any personal +sacrifice on my part, even of an hour of my time, or the labor of a +thought, I should not have done it. For with my return to the city my +interest in my cousin revived, absorbing me to such an extent that any +matter disconnected with her soon lost all charm for me. + +“Two years passed; I was the slave of Evelyn Blake, but there was no +engagement between us. My father’s determined opposition was enough to +prevent that. But there was an understanding which I fondly hoped would +one day open for me the way of happiness. But I did not know my father. +Sick as he was--he was at that time laboring under the disease which in +a couple of months later bore him to the tomb--he kept an eye upon my +movements and seemed to probe my inmost heart. At last he came to a +definite decision and spoke. + +“His words opened a world of dismay before me. I was his only child, as +he remarked, and it had been and was the desire of his heart to leave +me as rich and independent a man as himself. But I seemed disposed +to commit one of those acts against which he had the most determined +prejudice; marriage between cousins being in his eyes an unsanctified +and dangerous proceeding, liable to consequences the most unhappy. If I +persisted, he must will his property elsewhere. The Blake estate should +never descend with the seal of his approbation to a race of probable +imbeciles. + +“Nor was this enough. He not only robbed me of the woman I loved, +but with a clear insight into the future, I presume, insisted upon +my marrying some one else of respectability and worth before he died. +‘Anyone whose appearance will do you credit and whose virtue is beyond +reproach,’ said he. ‘I don’t ask her to be rich or even the offspring of +one of our old families. Let her be good and pure and of no connection +to us, and I will bless her and you with my dying breath.’ + +“The idea had seized upon him with great force, and I soon saw he was +not to be shaken out of it. To all my objections he returned but the one +word, + +“‘I don’t restrict your choice and I give you a month in which to +make it. If at the end of that time you cannot bring your bride to my +bedside, I must look around for an heir who will not thwart my dying +wishes.’” + +“A month! I surveyed the fashionable belles that nightly thronged the +parlors of my friends and felt my heart sink within me. Take one of them +for my wife, loving another woman? Impossible. Women like these demanded +something in return for the honor they conferred upon a man by marrying +him. Wealth? they had it. Position? that was theirs also. Consideration? +ah, what consideration had I to give? I turned from them with distaste. + +“My cousin Evelyn gave me no help. She was a proud woman and loved my +money and my expectations as much as she did me. + +“‘If you must marry another woman to retain your wealth, marry, said +she, ‘but do not marry one of my associates. I will have no rival in my +own empire; your wife must be a plainer and a less aspiring woman than +Evelyn Blake. Yet do not discredit your name,--which is mine,’ she would +always add. + +“Meanwhile the days flew by. If my own conscience had allowed me to +forget the fact, my father’s eagerly inquiring, but sternly unrelenting +gaze as I came each evening to his bedside, would have kept it +sufficiently in my mind. I began to feel like one in the power of +some huge crushing machine whose slowly descending weight he in vain +endeavors to escape. + +“How or when the thought of Luttra first crossed my mind I cannot +say. At first I recoiled at the suggestion and put it away from me in +disdain; but it ever recurred and with it so many arguments in her favor +that before long I found myself regarding it as a refuge. To be sure she +was a waif and a stray, but that seemed to be the kind of wife demanded +of me. She was allied to rogues if not villains, I knew; but then had +she not cut all connection with them, dropped away from them, planted +her feet on new ground which they would never invade? I commenced to +cherish the idea. With this friendless, grateful, unassuming protegee of +mine for a wife, I would be as little bound as might be. She would +ask nothing, and I need give nothing, beyond a home and the common +attentions required of a gentleman and a friend. Then she was not +disagreeable, nor was her beauty of a type to suggest the charms of +her I had lost. None of the graces of the haughty patrician lady whose +lightest gesture was a command, would appear in this humble girl, to +mock and constrain me. No, I should have a fair wife and an obedient +one, but no vulgarized shadow of Evelyn, thank God, or of any of her +fashionably dressed friends. + +“Advanced thus far towards the end, I went to see Luttra. I had not +beheld her since the morning we parted at the door of that little +cottage in Vermont, and her presence caused me a shock. This, the humble +waif with the appealing grateful eyes I had expected to encounter? this +tall and slender creature with an aureola of golden hair about a face +that it was an education to behold! I felt a half movement of anger as I +surveyed her. I had been cheated; I had planted a grape seed and a palm +tree had sprung up in its place. I was so taken aback, my salute lost +something of the benevolent condescension I had intended to infuse into +it. She seemed to feel my embarassment and a half smile fluttered to +her lips. That smile decided me. It was sweet but above all else it was +appealing. + +“How I won that woman to marry me in ten days time I care not to +state. Not by holding up my wealth and position before her. Something +restrained me from that. I was resolved, and perhaps it was the only +point of light in my conduct at that time, not to buy this young girl. I +never spoke of my expectations, I never alluded to my present advantages +yet I won her. + +“We were married, there, in Troy in the quietest and most unpretending +manner. Why the fact has never transpired I cannot say. I certainly took +no especial pains to conceal it at the time, though I acknowledge +that after our separation I did resort to such measures as I thought +necessary, to suppress what had become gall and wormwood to my pride. + +“My first move after the ceremony was to bring her immediately to New +York and to this house. With perhaps a pardonable bitterness of spirit, +I had refrained from any notification of my intentions, and it was as +strangers might enter an unprepared dwelling, that we stepped across the +threshold of this house and passed immediately to my father’s room. + +“‘I can give you no wedding and no honeymoon,’ I had told her. ‘My +father is dying and demands my care. From the altar to a death-bed may +be sad for you, but it is an inevitable condition of your marriage with +me.’ And she had accepted her fate with a deep unspeakable smile it has +taken me long months of loneliness and suffering to understand. + +“‘Father, I bring you my bride,’ were my first words to him as the door +closed behind us shutting us in with the dread, invisible Presence that +for so long a time had been relentlessly advancing upon our home. + +“I shall never forget how he roused himself in his bed, nor with what +eager eyes he read her young face and surveyed her slight form swaying +towards him in her sudden emotion like a flame in a breeze. Nor while I +live shall I lose sight of the spasm of uncontrollable joy with which +he lifted his aged arms towards her, nor the look with which she sprang +from my side and nestled, yes nestled, on the breast that never to my +remembrance had opened itself to me even in the years of my earliest +childhood. For my father was a stern man who believed in holding love at +arm’s length and measured affection by the depth of awe it inspired. + +“‘My daughter!’ broke from his lips, and he never inquired who she was +or what; no, not even when after a moment of silence she raised her head +and with a sudden low cry of passionate longing looked in his face and +murmured, + +“‘I never had a father.’ + +“Sirs, it is impossible for me to continue without revealing depths +of pride and bitterness in my own nature, from which I now shrink with +unspeakable pain. So far from being touched by this scene, I felt myself +grow hard under it. If he had been disappointed in my choice, queried +at it or even been simply pleased at my obedience, I might have accepted +the wife I had won, and been tolerably grateful. But to love her, admire +her, glory in her when Evelyn Blake had never succeeded in winning a +glance from his eyes that was not a public disapprobation! I could +not endure it; my whole being rebelled, and a movement like hate took +possession of me. + +“Bidding my wife to leave me with my father alone, I scarcely waited +for the door to close upon the poor young thing before all that had been +seething in my breast for a month, burst from me in the one cry, + +“‘I have brought you a daughter as you commanded me. Now give me the +blessing you promised and let me go; for I cannot live with a woman I do +not love.’ + +“Instantly, and before his lips could move, the door opened and the +woman I thus repudiated in the first dawning hour of her young bliss, +stood before us. My God! what a face! When I think of it now in the +night season--when from dreams that gloomy as they are, are often +elysian to the thoughts which beset me in my waking hours, I suddenly +arouse to see starting upon me from the surrounding shadows that young +fair brow with its halo of golden tresses, blotted, ay blotted by the +agony that turned her that instant into stone, I wonder I did not take +out the pistol that lay in the table near which I stood, and shoot her +lifeless on the spot as some sort of a compensation for the misery I had +caused her. I say I wonder now: then I only thought of braving it out. + +“Straight as a dart, but with that look on her face, she came towards +us. ‘Did I hear aright?’ were the words that came from her lips. ‘Have +you married me, a woman beneath your station as I now perceive, because +you were commanded to do so? Have you not loved me? given me that which +alone makes marriage a sacrament or even a possibility? and must you +leave this house made sacred by the recumbent form of your dying father +if I remain within it?’ + +“I saw my father’s stiff and pallid lips move silently as though +he would answer for me if he could, and summoning up what courage I +possessed, I told her that I deeply regretted she had overheard my +inconsiderate words. That I had never meant to wound her, whatever +bitterness lay in my heart towards one who had thwarted me in my dearest +and most cherished hopes. That I humbly begged her pardon and would so +far acknowledge her claim upon me as to promise that I would not leave +my home at this time, if it distressed her; my desire being not to +injure her, only to protect myself. + +“O the scorn that mounted to her brow at these weak words. Not scorn of +me, thank God, worthy as I was of it that hour, but scorn of my slight +opinion of her. + +“‘Then I heard aright,’ she murmured, and waited with a look that would +not be gainsaid. + +“I could only bow my head, cursing the day I was born. + +“‘Holman! Holman!’ came in agonized entreaty from the bed, ‘you will not +rob me of my daughter now?’ + +“Startled, I looked up. Luttra was half way to the door. + +“‘What are you going to do?’ cried I, bounding towards her. + +“She stopped me with a look. ‘The son must never forsake the father,’ +said she. ‘If either of us must leave the house this day, let it be I.’ +Then in a softer tone, ‘When you asked me to be your wife, I who had +worshipped you from the moment you entered my father’s house on the +memorable night I left it, was so overcome at your condescension that +I forgot you did not preface it by the usual passionate, ‘I love you,’ +which more than the marriage ring binds two hearts together. In the +glamour and glow of my joy, I did not see that the smile that was in my +heart, was missing from your face. I was to be your wife and that was +enough, or so I thought then, for I loved you. Ah, and I do now, my +husband, love you so that I leave you. Were it for your happiness I +would do more than that, I would give you back your freedom, but from +what I hear, it seems that you need a wife in name and I will be but +fulfilling your desire in holding that place for you. I will never +disgrace the position high as it is above my poor deserts. When the day +comes--if the day comes--that you need or feel you need the sustainment +of my presence or the devotion of my heart, no power on earth save that +of death itself, shall keep me from your side. Till that day arrives I +remain what you have made me, a bride who lays no claim to the name +you this morning bestowed upon her.’ And with a gesture that was like a +benediction, she turned, and noiselessly, breathlessly as a dream that +vanishes, left the room. + +“Sirs, I believe I uttered a cry and stumbled towards her. Some one in +that room uttered a cry, but it may be that it only rose in my heart and +that the one I heard came from my father’s lips. For when at the door +I turned, startled at the deathly silence, I saw he had fainted on his +pillow. I could not leave him so. Calling to Mrs. Daniels, who was never +far from my father in those days, I bade her stop the lady--I believe +I called her my wife--who was going down the stairs, and then rushed to +his side. It took minutes to revive him. When he came to himself it was +to ask for the creature who had flashed like a beacon of light upon his +darkening path. I rose as if to fetch her but before I could advance I +heard a voice say, ‘She is not here,’ and looking up I saw Mrs. Daniels +glide into the room. + +“‘Mrs. Blake has gone, sir, I could not keep her.’” + + + +CHAPTER XIII. A MAN’S HEART + + +“That was the last time my eyes ever rested upon my wife. Whither she +went or what refuge she gained, I never knew. My father who had received +in this scene a great shock, began to fail so rapidly, he demanded my +constant care; and though from time to time as I ministered to him and +noted with what a yearning persistency he would eye the door and then +turn and meet my gaze with a look I could not understand, I caught +myself asking whether I had done a deed destined to hang forever about +me like a pall; it was not till after his death that the despairing +image of the bright young creature to whom I had given my name, returned +with any startling distinctness to my mind, or that I allowed myself to +ask whether the heavy gloom which I now felt settling upon me was owing +to the sense of shame that overpowered me at the remembrance of the +past, or to the possible loss I had sustained in the departure of my +young unloved bride. + +“The announcement at this time of the engagement between Evelyn Blake +and the Count De Mirac may have had something to do with this. Though I +had never in the most passionate hours of my love for her, lost sight of +that side of her nature which demanded as her right the luxury of great +wealth; and though in my tacit abandonment of her and secret marriage +with another I had certainly lost the right to complain of her actions +whatever they might be, this manifest surrendering of herself to the +power of wealth and show at the price of all that women are believed to +hold dear, was an undoubted blow to my pride and the confidence I +had till now unconsciously reposed in her inherent womanliness and +affection. That she had but made on a more conspicuous scale, the same +sacrifice as myself to the god of Wealth and Position, was in my eyes +at that time, no palliation of her conduct. I was a man none too good +or exalted at the best; she, a woman, should have been superior to the +temptations that overpowered me. That she was not, seemed to drag all +womanhood a little nearer the dust; fashionable womanhood I ought to +say, for somehow even at that early day her conduct did not seem to +affect the vivid image of Luttra standing upon my threshold, shorn of +her joy but burning with a devotion I did not comprehend, and saying, + +“‘I loved you. Ah, and I do yet, my husband, love you so that I leave +you. When the day comes--if the day comes--you need or feel you need +the sustainment of my presence or the devotion of my heart, no power on +earth save that of death itself, shall keep me from your side.’ + +“Yes, with the fading away of other faces and other forms, that face and +that form now began to usurp the chief place in my thoughts. Not to my +relief and pleasure. That could scarcely be, remembering all that had +occurred; rather to my increasing distress and passionate resentment. +I longed to forget I was held by a tie, that known to the world would +cause me the bitterest shame. For by this time the true character of +her father and brother had been revealed and I found myself bound to the +daughter of a convicted criminal. + +“But I could not forget her. The look with which she had left me was +branded into my consciousness. Night and day it floated before me, till +to escape it I resolved to fasten it upon canvas, if by that means I +might succeed in eliminating it from my dreams. + +“The painting you have seen this night is the result. Born with an +artist’s touch and insight that under other circumstances might, +perhaps, have raised me into the cold dry atmosphere of fame, the +execution of this piece of work, presented but few difficulties to my +somewhat accustomed hand. Day by day her beauty grew beneath my brush, +startling me often with its spiritual force and significance till my +mind grew feverish over its work, and I could scarcely refrain from +rising at night to give a touch here or there to the floating golden +hair or the piercing, tender eyes turned, ah, ever turned upon the +inmost citadel of my heart with that look that slew my father before his +time and made me, yes me, old in spirit even in the ardent years of my +first manhood. + +“At last it was finished and she stood before me life-like and real in +the very garments and with almost the very aspect of that never to be +forgotten moment. Even the roses which in the secret uneasiness of my +conscience I had put in her hand on our departure from Troy, as a sort +of visible token that I regarded her as my bride, and which through all +her interview with my father she had never dropped, blossomed before +me on the canvas. Nothing that could give reality to the likeness, +was lacking; the vision of my dreams stood embodied in my sight, and I +looked for peace. Alas, that picture now became my dream. + +“Inserting it behind that of Evelyn which for two years had held its +place above my armchair, I turned its face to the wall when I rose in +the morning. But at night it beamed ever upon me, becoming as the months +passed, the one thing to hold to and muse over when the world grew a +little noisy in my ears and the never ceasing conflict of the ages beat +a trifle too loudly on heart and brain. + +“Meanwhile no word of her, only of her villainous father and brother; no +token that she had escaped evil or was removed from want. If I had loved +her I could not have succored her, for I did not know where to find her. +Her countenance illumined my wall, but her fair young self lay for all I +knew sheltered within the darkness and silence of the tomb. + +“At length my morbid broodings worked out their natural result. A dull +melancholy settled upon me which nothing could break. Even the news that +my cousin who had lost her husband a month after marriage, had returned +to America with expectation to remain, scarcely caused a ripple in my +apathy. Was I sinking into a hypochrondriac? or was my passion for the +beautiful brunette dead? I determined to solve the doubt. + +“Seeking her where I knew she would be found, I gazed again upon her +beauty. It was absolutely nothing to me. A fair young face with high +thoughts in every glance floated like sunshine between us and I left the +haughty Countess, with the knowledge burned deep into my brain, that the +love I had considered slain was alive and demanding, but that the object +of it past recall, was my lost young wife. + +“Once assured of this, my apathy vanished like mist before a kindled +torch. Henceforth the future held a hope, and life a purpose. I would +seek my wife throughout the world and bring her back if I found her +in prison between the men whose existence was a curse to my pride. But +where should I turn my steps? What golden thread had she left in my hand +by which to trace her through the labyrinth of this world? I could think +of but one, and that was the love which would restrain her from going +away from me too far. The Luttra of old would not leave the city where +her husband lived. If she was not changed, I ought to be able to find +her somewhere within this great Babylon of ours. Wisdom told me to +set the police upon her track, but pride bade me try every other means +first. So with the feverish energy of one leading a forlorn hope, I +began to pace the streets if haply I might see her face shine upon me +from the crowd of passers by; a foolish fancy, unproductive of result! I +not only failed to see her, but anyone like her. + +“In the midst of the despair occasioned by this failure a thought flashed +across me or rather a remembrance. One night not long since, being +uncommonly restless, I had risen from my bed, dressed me and gone out +into the yard back of my house for a little air. It was an unusual thing +for me to do but I seemed to be suffocating where I was, and nothing +else would satisfy me. As you already surmise, it was the night on which +disappeared the sewing girl of which you have so often spoken, but I +knew nothing of that, my thoughts were far from my own home and its +concerns. You may judge what a state of mind I was in when I tell you +that I even thought at one moment while I paused before the gate leading +into ---- Street that I saw the face of her with whom my thoughts were +ever busy, peering upon me through the bars. + +“You tell me that I did see a girl there, and that it was the one who +had lived as sewing woman in my house; it may be so, but at the time I +considered it a vision of my wife, and the remembrance of it, coming as +it did after my repeated failures to encounter her in the street, worked +a change in my plans. For regard it as weakness or not, the recollection +that the vision I had seen wore the garments of a working-woman rather +than a lady, acted upon me like a warning not to search for her any +longer among the resorts of the well-dressed, but in the regions of +poverty and toil. I therefore took to wanderings such as I have no heart +to describe. Nor do I need to, if, as you have informed me, I have been +followed. + +“The result was almost madness. Though deep in my heart I felt a +steadfast trust in the purity of her intentions, the fear of what she +might have been driven to by the awful poverty and despair I every day +saw seething about me, was like hot steel in brain and heart. Then her +father and her brother! To what might they not have forced her, innocent +and loving soul though she was! Drinking the dregs of a cup such as I +had never considered it possible for me to taste, I got so far as to +believe that her eyes would yet flash upon me from beneath some of the +tattered shawls I saw sullying the forms of the young girls upon which I +hourly stumbled. Yes, and even made a move to see my cousin, if haply I +could so win upon her compassion as to gain her consent to shelter the +poor creature of my dreams in case the necessity came. But my heart +failed me at the sight of her cold face above the splendor she had +bought with her charms, and I was saved a humiliation I might never have +risen above. + +“At last, one day I saw a girl--no, it was not she, but her hair was +similar to hers in hue, and the impulse to follow her was irresistible. +I did more than that, I spoke to her. I asked her if she could tell me +anything of one whose locks were golden red like hers--But I need not +tell you what I said nor what she replied with a gentle delicacy that +was almost a shock to me as showing from what heights to what depths a +woman can fall. Enough that nothing passed between us beyond what I have +intimated, and that in all she said she gave me no news of Luttra. + +“Next day I started for the rambling old house in Vermont, if haply +in the spot where I first saw her, I might come upon some clue to her +present whereabouts. But the old inn was deserted, and whatever hope I +may have had in that direction, perished with the rest. + +“Concerning the contents of that bureau-drawer above, I can say nothing. +If, as I scarcely dare to hope, they should prove to have been indeed +brought here by the girl who has since disappeared so strangely, who +knows but what in those folded garments a clue is given which will lead +me at last to the knowledge for which I would now barter all I possess. +My wife--But I can mention her name no more till the question that now +assails us is set at rest. Mrs. Daniels must--” + +But at that moment the door opened and Mrs. Daniels came in. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. MRS. DANIELS + + +She still wore her bonnet and shawl and her face was like marble. + +“You want me?” said she with a hurried look towards Mr. Blake that had +as much fear as surprise in it. + +“Yes,” murmured that gentleman moving towards her with an effort we +could very well appreciate. “Mrs. Daniels, who was the girl you harbored +in that room above us for so long? Speak; what was her name and where +did she come from?” + +The housekeeper trembling in every limb, cast us one hurried appeal. + +“Speak!” reechoed Mr. Gryce; “the time for secrecy has passed.” + +“O,” cried she, sinking into a chair from sheer inability to stand, “it +was your wife, Mr. Blake, the young creature you--” + +“Ah!” + +All the agony, the hopelessness, the love, the passion of those last few +months flashed up in that word. She stopped as if she had been shot, but +seeing the hand which he had hurriedly raised, fall slowly before him, +went on with a burst, + +“O sir, she made me swear on my knees I would never betray her, no +matter what happened. When not two weeks after your father died she came +to the house and asking for me, told me all her story and all her love; +how she could not reconcile it with her idea of a wife’s duty to live +under any other roof than that of her husband, and lifting off the black +wig which she wore, showed me how altered she had made herself by that +simple change--in her case more marked by the fact that her eyes were +in keeping with black hair, while with her own bright locks they always +gave you a shock as of something strange and haunting--I gave up my will +as if forced by a magnetic power, and not only opened the house to her +but my heart as well; swearing to all she demanded and keeping my oath +too, as I would preserve my soul from sin and my life from the knife of +the destroyer.” + +“But, when she went,” broke from the pallid lips of the man before her, +“when she was taken away from the house, what then?” + +“Ah,” returned the agitated woman, “what then! Do you not think I +suffered? To be held by my oath, an oath I was satisfied she would wish +kept even at this crisis, yet knowing all the while she was drifting +away into some evil that you, if you knew who she was, would give your +life to avert from your honor if not from her innocent head! To see you +cold, indifferent, absorbed in other things, while she, who would have +perished any day for your happiness, was losing her life perhaps in the +clutches of those horrible villains! Do not ask me to tell you what I +have suffered since she went; I can never tell you,--innocent, tender, +noble-hearted creature that she was.” + +“Was?” His hand clutched his heart as if it had been seized by a deathly +spasm. “Why do you say was?” + +“Because I have just come from the Morgue where she lies dead.” + +“No, no,” came in a low shriek from his lips, “that is not she; that is +another woman, like her perhaps, but not she.” + +“Would to God you were right; but the long golden braids! Such hair as +hers I never saw on anyone before.” + +“Mr. Blake is right,” I broke in, for I could not endure this scene any +longer. “The woman taken out of the East river to-day has been both seen +and spoken to by him and that not long since. He should know if it is +his wife.” + +“And isn’t it?” + +“No, a thousand times no; the girl was a perfect stranger.” + +The assurance seemed to lift a leaden weight from her heart. “O thank +God,” she murmured dropping with an irresistible impulse on her knees. +Then with a sudden return of her old tremble, “But I was only to reveal +her secret in case of her death! What have I done, O what have I done! +Her only hope lay in my faithfulness.” + +Mr. Blake leaning heavily on the table before him, looked in her face. + +“Mrs. Daniels,” said he, “I love my wife; her hope now lies in me.” + +She leaped to her feet with a joyous bound. “You love her? O thank God!” + she again reiterated but this time in a low murmur to her self. “Thank +God!” and weeping with unrestrained joy, she drew back into a corner. + +Of course after that, all that remained for us to do was to lay our +heads together and consult as to the best method of renewing our search +after the unhappy girl, now rendered of double interest to us by the +facts with which we had just been made acquainted. That she had been +forced away from the roof that sheltered her by the power of her father +and brother was of course no longer open to doubt. To discover them, +therefore, meant to recover her. Do you wonder, then, that from the +moment we left Mr. Blake’s house, the capture of that brace of thieves +became the leading purpose of our two lives? + + + +CHAPTER XV. A CONFAB + + +Next morning Mr. Gryce and I met in serious consultation. How, and in +what direction should we extend the inquiries necessary to a discovery +of these Schoenmakers? + +“I advise a thorough overhauling of the German quarter,” said my +superior. “Schmidt, and Rosenthal will help us and the result ought to +be satisfactory.” + +But I shook my head at this. “I don’t believe,” said I, “that they will +hide among their own people. You must remember they are not alone, but +have with them a young woman of a somewhat distinguished appearance, +whose presence in a crowded district, like that, would be sure to awaken +gossip; something which above all else they must want to avoid.” + +“That is true; the Germans are a dreadful race for gossip.” + +“If they dared to ill-dress her or ill-treat her, it would be different. +But she is a valuable piece of property to them you see, a choice lot +of goods which it is for their interest to preserve in first-class +condition till the day comes for its disposal. For I presume you have no +doubt that it is for the purpose of extorting money from Mr. Blake that +they have carried off his young wife.” + +“For that reason or one similar. He is a man of resources, they may have +hoped he would help them to escape the country.” + +“If they don’t hide in the German quarter they certainly won’t in the +Italian, French or Irish. What they want is too keep close and rouse +no questions. I think they will be found to have gone up the river +somewhere, or over to Jersey. Hoboken would’nt be a bad place to send +Schmidt to.” + +“You forget what it is they’ve got on their minds; besides no +conspicuous party such as they could live in a rural district without +attracting more attention than in the most crowded tenement house in the +city.” + +“Where do you think, then, they would be liable to go?” + +“Well my most matured thought on the subject,” returned Mr. Gryce, after +a moment’s deliberation, “is this,--you say, and I agree, that they +have hampered themselves with this woman at this time for the purpose of +using her hereafter in a scheme of black-mail upon Mr. Blake. He, then, +must be the object about which their thoughts revolve and toward which +whatever operations or plans they may be engaged upon must tend. What +follows? When a company of men have made up their minds to rob a bank, +what is the first thing they do? They hire, if possible, a house next to +the especial building they intend to enter, and for months work upon +the secret passage through which they hope to reach the safe and +its contents; or they make friends with the watchman that guards its +treasures, and the janitor who opens and shuts the doors. In short they +hang about their prey before they pounce upon it. And so will these +Schoenmakers do in the somewhat different robbery which they plan sooner +or later to effect. Whatever may keep them close at this moment, Mr. +Blake and Mr. Blake’s house is the point toward which their eyes are +turned, and if we had time--” + +“But we have’nt,” I broke in impetuously. “It is horrible to think of +that grand woman languishing away in the power of such rascals.” + +“If we had time,” Mr. Gryce persisted, “all it would be necessary to do +would be to wait, they would come into our hands as easily and naturally +as a hawk into the snare of the fowler. But as you say we have not, and +therefore, I would recommend a little beating of the bush directly about +Mr. Blake’s house; for if all my experience is not at fault, those men +are already within eye-shot of the prey they intend to run down.” + +“But,” said I, “I have been living myself in that very neighborhood and +know by this time the ways of every house in the vicinity. There is not +a spot up and down the Avenue for ten blocks where they could hide away +for two days much less two weeks. And as for the side streets,--why +I could tell you the names of those who live in each house for a +considerable distance. Yet if you say so I will go to work--” + +“Do, and meanwhile Schmidt and Rosenthal shall rummage the German +quarter and even go through Williamsburgh and Hoboken. The end justifies +any amount of labor that can be spent upon this matter.” + +“And you,” I asked. + +“Will do my part when you have done yours.” + + + +CHAPTER XVI. THE MARK OF THE RED CROSS + + +And what success did I meet? The best in the world. And by what means +did I attain it? By that of the simplest, prettiest clue I ever came +upon. But let me explain. + +When after a wearisome day spent in an ineffectual search through the +neighborhood, I went home to my room, which as you remember was a front +one in a lodging-house on the opposite corner from Mr. Blake, I was so +absorbed in mind and perhaps I may say shaken in nerve, by the strain +under which I had been laboring for some time now, that I stumbled up an +extra flight of stairs, and without any suspicion of the fact, tried +the door of the room directly over mine. It is a wonder to me now that I +could have made the mistake, for the halls were totally dissimilar, +the one above being much more cut up than the one below, besides being +flanked by a greater number of doors. But the intoxication of the mind +is not far removed from that of the body, and as I say it was not till +I had tried the door and found it locked, that I became aware of the +mistake I had made. + +With the foolish sense of shame that always overcomes us at the +committal of any such trivial error, I stumbled hastily back, when my +foot trod upon something that broke under my weight. I never let even +small things pass without some notice. Stooping, then, for what I had +thus inadvertently crushed, I carried it to where a single gas jet +turned down very low, made a partial light in the long hall, and +examining it, found it to be a piece of red chalk. + +What was there in that simple fact to make me start and hastily recall +one or two half-forgotten incidents which, once brought to mind, awoke +a train of thought that led to the discovery and capture of those two +desperate thieves? I will tell you. + +I don’t remember now whether in my account of the visit I paid to +the Schoenmakers’ house in Vermont, I informed you of the red cross I +noticed scrawled on the panel of one of the doors. It seemed a trivial +thing at the time and made little or no impression upon me, the chances +being that I should never have thought of it again, if I had not come +upon the article just mentioned at a moment when my mind was full of +those very Schoenmakers. But remembered now, together with another +half-forgotten fact,--that some days previous I had been told by the +woman who kept the house I was in, that the parties over my head (two +men and a woman I believe she said) were giving her some trouble, but +that they paid well and therefore she did not like to turn them out,--it +aroused a vague suspicion in my mind, and led to my walking back to the +door I had endeavored to open in my abstraction, and carefully looking +at it. + +It was plain and white, rather ruder of make than those below, but +offering no inducements for prolonged scrutiny. But not so with the +one that stood at right angles to it on the left. Full in the centre +of that, I beheld distinctly scrawled, probably with the very piece of +chalk I then held, a red cross precisely similar in outline to the one +I had seen a few days before on the panel of the Schoenmakers’ door at +Granby. + +The discovery sent a thrill over me that almost raised my hair on end. +Was, then, this famous trio to be found in the very house in which I had +been myself living for a week or more? over my head in fact? I could +not withdraw my gaze from the mysterious looking object. I bent near, I +listened, I heard what sounded like the suppressed snore of a powerful +man, and almost had to lay hold of myself to prevent my hand from +pushing open that closed door and my feet from entering. As it was I did +finger the knob a little, but an extra loud snore from within reminded +me by its suggestion of strength that I was but a small man and that in +this case and at this hour, discretion was the better part of valor. + +I therefore withdrew, but for the whole night lay awake listening to +catch any sounds that might come from above, and going so far as to plan +what I would do if it should be proved that I was indeed upon the trail +of the men I was so anxious to encounter. + +With the breaking of day I was upon my feet. A rude step had gone up +the stairs a few minutes before and I was all alert to follow. But +I presently considered that my wisest course would be to sound the +landlady and learn if possible with what sort of characters I had to +deal. Routing her out of the kitchen, where at that early hour she was +already engaged in domestic duties, I drew her into a retired corner and +put my questions. She was not backward in replying. She had conceived an +innocent liking for me in the short time I had been with her--a display +of weakness for which I was myself, perhaps, as much to blame as +she--and was only too ready to pour out her griefs into my sympathizing +ear. For those men were a grief to her, acceptable as was the money +they were careful to provide her with. They were not only always in the +house, that is one of them, smoking his old pipe and blackening up the +walls, but they looked so shabby, and kept the girl so close, and if +they did go out, came in at such unheard of hours. It was enough to +drive her crazy; yet the money, the money-- + +“Yes,” said I, “I know; and the money ought to make you overlook all +the small disagreeablenesses you mention. What is a landlady without +patience.” And I urged her not to turn them out. + +“But the girl,” she went on, “so nice, so quiet, so sick-looking! I +cannot stand it to see her cooped up in that small room, always watched +over by one or both of those burly wretches. The old man says she is +his daughter and she does not deny it, but I would as soon think of that +little rosy child you see cooing in the window over the way, belonging +to the beggar going in at the gate, as of her with her lady-like ways +having any connection with him and his rough-acting son. You ought to +see her--” + +“That is just what I want to do,” interrupted I. “Not because you have +tempted my fancy by a recital of her charms,” I hastened to add, “but +because she is, if I don’t mistake, a woman for whose discovery and +rescue, a large sum of money has been offered.” + +And without further disguise I acquainted the startled woman before me +with the fact that I was not, as she had always considered, the clerk +out of employment whose daily business it was to sally forth in quest of +a situation, but a member of the city police. + +She was duly impressed and easily persuaded to second all my operations +as far as her poor wits would allow, giving me free range of her upper +story, and above all, promising that secrecy without which all my finely +laid plans for capturing the rogues without raising a scandal, would +fall headlong to the ground. + +Behold me, then, by noon of that same day domiciled in an apartment next +to the one whose door bore that scarlet sign which had aroused within +me such feverish hopes the night before. Clad in the seedy garments of +a broken down French artist whose acquaintance I had once made, with +something of his air and general appearance and with a few of his +wretched daubs hung about on the whitewashed wall, I commenced with +every prospect of success as I thought, that quiet espionage of the hall +and its inhabitants which I considered necessary to a proper attainment +of the end I had in view. + +A racking cough was one of the peculiarities of my friend, and +determined to assume the character in toto, I allowed myself to startle +the silence now and then with a series of gasps and chokings that +whether agreeable or not, certainly were of a character to show that I +had no desire to conceal my presence from those I had come among. Indeed +it was my desire to acquaint them as fully and as soon as possible with +the fact of their having a neighbor: a weak-eyed half-alive innocent +to be sure, but yet a neighbor who would keep his door open night and +day--for the warmth of the hall of course--and who with the fretful +habit of an old man who had once been a gentleman and a beau, went +rambling about through the hall speaking to those he met and expecting +a civil word in return. When he was not rambling or coughing he made +architectural monsters out of cardboard, wherewith to tempt the pennies +out of the pockets of unwary children, an employment that kept him +chained to a small table in the centre of his room directly opposite the +open door. + +As I expected I had scarcely given way to three separate fits of +coughing, when the door next me opened with a jerk and a rough voice +called out, + +“Who’s that making all that to do about here? If you don’t stop that +infernal noise in a hurry--” + +A soft voice interrupted him and he drew back. “I will go see,” said +those gentle tones, and Luttra Blake, for I knew it was she before the +skirt of her robe had advanced beyond the door, stepped out into the +hall. + +I was yet bent over my work when she paused before me. The fact is I did +not dare look up, the moment was one of such importance to me. + +“You have a dreadful cough,” said she with that low ring of sympathy in +her voice that goes unconsciously to the heart. “Is there no help for +it?” + +I pushed back my work, drew my hand over my eyes, (I did not need to +make it tremble) and glanced up. “No,” said I with a shake of my head, +“but it is not always so bad. I beg your pardon, miss, if it disturbs +you.” + +She threw back the shawl which she had held drawn tightly over her head, +and advanced with an easy gliding step close to my side. “You do not +disturb me, but my father is--is, well a trifle cross sometimes, and if +he should speak up a little harsh now and then, you must not mind. I am +sorry you are so ill.” + +What is there in some women’s look, some women’s touch that more than +all beauty goes to the heart and subdues it. As she stood there before +me in her dark worsted dress and coarse shawl, with her locks simply +braided and her whole person undignified by art and ungraced by +ornament, she seemed just by the power of her expression and the +witchery of her manner, the loveliest woman I had ever beheld. + +“You are veree kind, veree good,” I murmured, half ashamed of my +disguise, though it was assumed for the purpose of rescuing her. “Your +sympathy goes to my heart.” Then as a deep growl of impatience rose from +the room at my side, I motioned her to go and not irritate the man who +seemed to have such control over her. + +“In a minute,” answered she, “first tell me what you are making.” + +So I told her and in the course of telling, let drop such other facts +about my fancied life as I wished to have known to her and through her +to her father. She looked sweetly interested and more than once turned +upon me that dark eye, of which I had heard so much, full of tears that +were as much for me, scamp that I was, as for her own secret trouble. +But the growls becoming more and more impatient she speedily turned to +go, repeating, however, as she did so, + +“Now remember what I say, you are not to be troubled if they do speak +cross to you. They make noise enough themselves sometimes, as you will +doubtless be assured of to-night.” + +And the lips which seemed to have grown stiff and cold with her misery, +actually softened into something like a smile. + +The nod which I gave her in return had the solemnity of a vow in it. + +My mind thus assured as to the correctness of my suspicions, and the way +thus paved to the carrying out of my plans, I allowed some few days +to elapse without further action on my part. My motive was to acquaint +myself as fully as possible with the habits and ways of these two +desperate men, before making the attempt to capture them upon which so +many interests hung. For while I felt it would be highly creditable to +my sagacity, as well as valuable to my reputation as a detective, to +restore these escaped convicts in any way possible into the hands of +justice, my chief ambition after all was to so manage the affair as +to save the wife of Mr. Blake, not only from the consequences of their +despair, but from the publicity and scandal attendant upon the open +arrest of two heavily armed men. Strategy, therefore, rather than force +was to be employed, and strategy to be successful must be founded upon +the most thorough knowledge of the matter with which one has to deal. +Three days, then, did I give to the acquiring of that knowledge, the +result of which was the possession of the following facts. + +1. That the landlady was right when she told me the girl was never left +alone, one of the men, if not the father then the son, always remaining +with her. + +2. That while thus guarded, she was not so restricted but that she had +the liberty of walking in the hall, though never for any length of time. + +3. That the cross on the door seemed to possess some secret meaning +connected with their presence in the house, it having been erased one +evening when the whole three went out on some matter or other, only to +be chalked on again when in an hour or so later, father and daughter +returned alone. + +4. That it was the father and not the son who made such purchases as +were needed, while it was the son and not the father who carried on +whatever operations they had on hand; nightfall being the favorite +hour for the one and midnight for the other; though it not infrequently +happened that the latter sauntered out for a short time also in the +afternoon, probably for the drink he could not go long without. + +5. That they were men of great strength but little alertness; the stray +glimpses I had had of them, revealing a breadth of back that was truly +formidable, if it had not been joined to a heaviness of motion that +proclaimed a certain stolidity of mind that was eminently in our favor. + +How best to use these facts in the building up of a matured plan of +action, was, then, the problem. By noon of a certain day I believed +it to have been solved, and reluctant as I was to leave the spot of my +espionage even for the hour or two necessary to a visit to headquarters, +I found myself compelled to do so. Packing up in a small basket I had +for the purpose, the little articles I had been engaged during the last +few days in making, I gave way to a final fit of coughing so hollow and +sepulchral in its tone, that it awoke a curse from the next room deep as +the growl of a wild beast, and still continuing, finally brought Luttra +to the door with that look of compassion on her face that always called +up a flush to my cheek whether I wished it or no. + +“Ah, Monsieur, I am afraid your cough is very bad to-day. O I see; you +have been getting ready to go out--” + +“Come back here,” broke in a heavy voice from the room she had left. +“What do you mean by running off to palaver with that old rascal every +time he opens his ----- battery of a cough?” + +A smile that went through me like the cut of a knife, flashed for a +moment on her face. + +“My father is in one of his impatient moods,” said she, “you had better +go. I hope you will be successful,” she murmured, glancing wistfully at +my basket. + +“What is that?” again came thundering on our ears. “Successful? What are +you two up to?” And we heard the rough clatter of advancing steps. + +“Go,” said she; “you are weak and old; and when you come back, try and +not cough.” And she gave me a gentle push towards the door. + +“When I come back,” I began, but was forced to pause, the elder +Schoenmaker having by this time reached the open doorway where he stood +frowning in upon us in a way that made my heart stand still for her. + +“What are you two talking about?” said he; “and what have you got in +your basket there?” he continued with a stride forward that shook the +floor. + +“Only some little toys that he has been making, and is now going out to +sell,” was her low answer given with a quick deprecatory gesture such as +I doubt if she ever used for herself. + +“Nothing more?” asked he in German with a red glare in the eye he turned +towards her. + +“Nothing more,” replied she in the same tongue. “You may believe me.” + +He gave a deep growl and turned away. “If there was,” said he, “you know +what would happen.” And unheeding the wild keen shudder that seized her +at the word, making her insensible for the moment to all and everything +about her, he laid one heavy hand upon her slight shoulder and led her +from the room. + +I waited no longer than was necessary to carry my feeble and faltering +steps appropriately down the stairs, to reach the floor below and gain +the landlady’s presence. + +“Do you go up,” said I, “and sit on those stairs till I come back. If +you hear the least cry of pain or sound of struggle from that young +girl’s room, do you call at once for help. I will have a policeman +standing on the corner below.” + +The good woman nodded and proceeded at once to take up her work-basket. +“Lucky there’s a window up there, so I can see,” I heard her mutter. +“I’ve no time to throw away even on deeds of charity.” + +Notwithstanding which precaution, I was in constant anxiety during my +absence; an absence necessarily prolonged as I had to stop and explain +matters to the Superintendent, as well as hunt up Mr. Gryce and get his +consent to assist me in the matter of the impending arrest. + +I found the latter in his own home and more than enthusiastic upon the +subject. + +“Well,” said he after I had informed him of the discoveries I had made, +“the fates seem to prosper you in this. I have not received an inkling +of light upon the matter since I parted from you at Mr. Blake’s house. +By the way I saw that gentleman this morning and I tell you we will find +him a grateful man if this affair can be resolved satisfactorily.” + +“That is good,” said I,” gratitude is what we want.” Then shortly, +“Perhaps it is no more than our duty to let him know that his wife is +safe and under my eye; though I would by no means advocate his knowing +just how near him she is, till the moment comes when he is wanted, or we +shall have a lover’s impetuosity to deal with as well as all the rest.” + Then with a hurried remembrance of a possible contingency, went on to +say, “But, by the way, in case we should need the cooperation of Mrs. +Blake in what we have before us, you had better get a line written +in French from Mrs. Daniels, expressive of her belief in Mr. Blake’s +present affection for his wife. The latter will not otherwise trust us, +or understand that we are to be obeyed in whatever we may demand. Let +it be unsigned and without names in case of accident; and if the +housekeeper don’t understand French, tell her to get some one to help +her that does, only be sure that the handwriting employed is her own.” + +Mr. Gryce seemed to perceive the wisdom of this precaution and promised +to procure me such a note by a certain hour, after which I related to +him the various other details of the capture such as I had planned it, +meeting to my secret gratification an unqualified approval that went far +towards alleviating that wound to my pride which I had received from him +in the beginning of this affair. + +“Let all things proceed as you have determined, and we shall accomplish +something that it will be a life-long satisfaction to remember,” said +he; “but you must be prepared for some twist of the screw which you +do not anticipate. I never knew anything to go off just as one +prognosticates it must, except once,” he added thoughtfully, “and +then it was with a surprise attached to it that well nigh upset me +notwithstanding all my preparations.” + +“You won a great success that day,” remarked I. “I hope the fates will +be as propitious to me to-morrow. Failure now would break my heart.” + +“But you won’t fail,” exclaimed he. “I myself am resolved to see you +through this matter with credit.” + +And in this assurance I returned to my lodgings where I found the +landlady sitting where I had left her, darning her twenty-third sock. + +“I have to mend for a dozen men and three boys,” said she, “and the boys +are the worst by a heap sight. Look at that, will you,” holding up +a darn with a bit of stocking attached. “That hole was made playing +shinny.” + +I uttered my condolences and asked if any sound or disturbance had +reached her ears from above. + +“O no, all is right up there; I’ve scarcely heard a whisper since you’ve +been gone.” + +I gave her a pat on the chin scarcely consistent with my aged and +tottering mien and proceeded to shamble painfully to my room. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. THE CAPTURE + + +Promptly next morning at the designated hour, came the little note +promised me by Mr. Gryce. It was put in my hand with many sly winks by +the landlady herself, who developed at this crisis quite an adaptation +for, if not absolute love of intrigue and mystery. Glancing over it--it +was unsealed--and finding it entirely unintelligible, I took it for +granted it was all right and put it by till chance, or if that failed, +strategy, should give me an opportunity to communicate with Mrs. Blake. +An hour passed; the doors of their rooms remained unclosed. A half hour +more dragged its slow minutes away, and no sound had come from their +precincts save now and then a mumbled word of parley between the father +and son, a short command to the daughter, or a not-to-be-restrained oath +of annoyance from one or both of the heavy-limbed brutes as something +was said or done to disturb them in their indolent repose. At last +my impatience was to be no longer restrained. Rising, I took a bold +resolution. If the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet would go +to the mountain. Taking my letter in the hand, I deliberately proceeded +to the door marked with the ominous red cross and knocked. + +A surprised snarl from within, followed by a sudden shuffling of feet +as the two men leaped upright from what I presume had been a recumbent +position, warned me to be ready to face defiance if not the fury of +despair; and curbing with a determined effort the slight sinking of +heart natural to a man of my make on the threshold of a very doubtful +adventure, I awaited with as much apparent unconcern as possible, the +quick advance of that light foot which seemed to be ready to perform +all the biddings of these hardened wretches, much as it shrunk from +following in the ways of their infamy. + +“Ah miss,” said I, as the door opened revealing in the gap her white +face clouded with some new and sudden apprehension, “I beg your pardon +but I am an old man, and I got a letter to-day and my eyes are so weak +with the work I’ve been doing that I cannot read it. It is from some one +I love, and would you be so kind as to read off the words for me and so +relieve an old man from his anxiety.” + +The murmur of suspicion behind her, warned her to throw wide open the +door. “Certainly,” said she, “if I can,” taking the paper in her hand. + +“Just let me get a squint at that first,” said a sullen voice behind +her; and the youngest of the two Schoenmakers stepped forward and tore +the paper out of her grasp. + +“You are too suspicious,” murmured she, looking after him with the first +assumption of that air of power and determination which I had heard +so eloquently described by the man who loved her. “There is nothing in +those lines which concerns us; let me have them back.” + +“You hold your tongue,” was the brutal reply as the rough man opened the +folded paper and read or tried to read what was written within. “Blast +it! it’s French,” was his slow exclamation after a moment spent in +this way. “See,” and he thrust it towards his father who stood frowning +heavily a few feet off. + +“Of course, it’s French,” cried the girl. “Would you write a note in +English to father there? The man’s friends are French like himself, and +must write in their own language.” + +“Here take it and read it out,” commanded her father; “and mind you +tell us what it means. I’ll have nothing going on here that I don’t +understand.” + +“Read me the French words first, miss,” said I. “It is my letter and I +want to know what my friend has to say to me.” + +Nodding at me with a gentle look, she cast her eyes on the paper and +began to read: + + “Calmez vous, mon amie, il vous aime et il vous cherche. Dans + quatre heures vous serez heureuse. Allons du courage, et surtout + soyez maitre de vous meme.” + +“Thanks!” I exclaimed in a calm matter-of-fact way as I perceived the +sudden tremor that seized her as she recognized the handwriting and +realized that the words were for her. “My friend says he will pay my +week’s rent and bids me be at home to receive him,” said I, turning upon +the two ferocious faces peering over her shoulder, with a look of meek +unsuspiciousness in my eye, that in a theatre would have brought down +the house. + +“Is that what those words say, you?” asked the father, pointing over her +shoulder to the paper she held. + +“I will translate for you word by word what it says,” replied she, +nerving herself for the crisis till her face was like marble, though +I could see she could not prevent the gleam of secret rapture that had +visited her, from flashing fitfully across it. “Calmez vous, mon amie. +Do not be afraid, my friend. Il vous aime et il vous cherche. He loves +you and is hunting for you. Dans quatre heures vous serez heureuse. In +four hours you will be happy. Allons du courage, et surtout soyez +maitre de vous meme. Then take courage and above all preserve your +self-possession. It is the French way of expressing one’s self,” + observed she. “I am glad your friend is disposed to help you,” she +continued, giving me back the letter with a smile. “I am afraid you +needed it.” + +In a sort of maze I folded up the letter, bowed my very humble thanks to +her and shuffled slowly back. The fact is I had no words; I was utterly +dumbfounded. Half way through that letter, with whose contents you +must remember I was unacquainted, I would have given my whole chance of +expected reward to have stopped her. Read out such words as those before +these men! Was she crazy? But how naturally at the conclusion did she +with a word make its language seem consistent with the meaning I had +given it. With a fresh sense of my obligation to her, I hurried to my +room, there to count out the minutes of another long hour in anxious +expectation of her making that endeavor to communicate with me, which +her new hopes and fears must force her to feel almost necessary to her +existence. At length, my confidence in her was rewarded. Coming out into +the hall, she hurried past my door, her finger on her lip. I immediately +rose and stood on the threshold with another paper in my hand, which I +had prepared against this opportunity. As she glided back, I put it in +her hand, and warning her with a look not to speak, resumed my usual +occupation. The words I had written were as follows: + + At or as near the time as possible of your brother’s going out, + you are to come to this room wrapped in an extra skirt and with + your shawl over your head. Leave the skirt and shawl behind you, + and withdraw at once to the room at the head of the stairs. You + are not to speak, and you are not to vary from the plan thus laid + down. Your brother and father are to be arrested, whether or no; + but if you will do as this commands, they will be arrested without + bloodshed and without shame to one you know. + +Her face while she read these lines, was a study, but I dared not soften +toward it. Dropping the paper from her hand, she gave me one inquiring +look. But I pointed determinedly to the words lying upward on the floor, +and would listen to no appeal. My resolve had its effect. Bowing her +head with a sorrowful gesture, she laid her hand on her heart, looked up +and glided from the room. I took up that paper and tore it into bits. + +And now for the first time since I had been in the house, I closed the +door of my room. I had a part to perform that rendered the dropping of +my disguise indispensable. The old French artist had finished his work, +and henceforth must merge into Q. the detective. Shortly before two +o’clock my assistants began to arrive. First, Mr. Gryce appeared on the +scene and was stowed away in a large room on the other side of mine. +Next, two of the most agile, as well as muscular men in the force who, +thanks to having taken off their shoes in the lower hall, gained the +same refuge without awakening the suspicions of those we were anxious to +surprise. Lastly, the landlady who went into the closet to which I had +bidden Mrs. Blake retire after leaving in my room the articles I had +mentioned. + +All was now ready and waiting for the departure of the youngest +Schoenmaker. Would he disappoint us and remain at home that day? Had any +suspicions been awakened in the stolid breasts of these men, that would +serve to make them more watchful than usual against running unnecessary +risks? No; at or near the time for the clock to strike two, their door +opened and the tread of a lumbering foot was heard in the hall. On it +came, passing my room with a rude stamping that gradually grew less +distinct as the hardy rough went down the corridor, brushing the wall +behind which Mr. Gryce and his men lay concealed with his thick cane, +and even stopping to light his pipe in front of the small apartment +where cowered our good landlady with her eternal basket of mending in +her lap. + +At length all was quiet, and throwing open my door, I withdrew into +a small closet connected with my room, to wait with indescribable +impatience, the appearance of Mrs. Blake. She came in a very few +minutes, remained for an instant, and departed, leaving behind her as +I had requested, the skirt and shawl in which she had left her father’s +presence. I at once endued myself in these articles of apparel--taking +care to draw the shawl well over my head--and with a pocket handkerchief +to my face, (a proceeding made natural enough by the sneeze which at +that very moment I took care should assail me) walked boldly back to the +room from which she had just come. + +The door was of course ajar, and as I swung it open with as near a +simulation of her manner as possible, the vision of her powerful +father lolling on a bench directly before me, offered anything but an +encouraging spectacle to my eyes. But doubling myself almost together +with as ladylike an atch-ee as my masculine nostrils would allow, I +succeeded in closing the door and reaching a low stool by the window +without calling from him anything worse than a fretful “I hope you are +not going to bark too.” + +I did not reply to this of course, but sat with my face turned towards +the street in an attitude which I hoped would awaken his attention +sufficiently to cause him to get up and come over to my side. For as he +sat face to the door it would be impossible to take him by surprise, and +that, now that I saw what a huge and muscular creature he was, seemed +to me to be the only safe method before us. But, whether from the +sullenness of his disposition or the very evident laziness of the +moment, he manifested no disposition to move, and hearing or thinking I +did, the stealthy advance of Mr. Gryce and his companions down the hall, +I allowed myself to give way to a suppressed exclamation, and leaning +forward, pressed my forehead against the pane of glass before me as +if something of absorbing interest had just taken place in the street +beneath. + +His fears at once took alarm. Bounding up with a curse, he strode +towards me, muttering, + +“What’s up now? What’s that you are looking at?” reaching my side just +as Mr. Gryce and his two men softly opened the door and with a quick +leap threw their arms about him, closing upon him with a force he could +not resist, desperate as he was and mighty in the huge strength of an +unusually developed muscular organization. + +“You, you girl there, are to blame for this!” came mingled with curses +from his lips, as with one huge pant he submitted to his captors. “Only +let me get my hand well upon you once--Damn it!” he suddenly exclaimed, +dragging the whole three men forward in his effort to get his mouth down +to my ear, “go and rub that sign out on the door or I’ll--you know what +I’ll do well enough. Do you hear?” + +Rising, still with face averted, I proceeded to do what he asked. But in +another moment seeing that he had been effectually bound and gagged, +I took out the piece of red chalk I had kept in my pocket, and +deliberately chalked it on again, after which operation I came back and +took my seat as before on the low stool by the window. + +The object now was to secure the second rascal in the same way we had +the first; and for this purpose Mr. Gryce ordered the now helpless giant +to be dragged into the adjoining small room formerly occupied by Mrs. +Blake, where he and his men likewise took up their station leaving me +to confront as best I might, the surprise and consternation of the one +whose return we now awaited. + +I did not shrink. With that brave woman’s garments drawn about me, +something of her dauntless spirit seemed to invade my soul, and though I +expected--But let that come in its place, I am not here to interest you +in myself or my selfish thoughts. + +A half hour passed; he had never lingered away so long before, or so it +seemed, and I was beginning to wonder if we should have to keep up this +strain of nerve for hours, when the heavy tread was again heard in +the hall, and with a blow of the fist that argued anger or a brutal +impatience, he flung open the door and came in, I did not turn my head. + +“Where’s father?” he growled, stopping where he was a foot or so from +the door. + +I shook my head with a slight gesture and remained looking out. + +He brought his cane down on the floor with a thump. “What do you mean by +sitting there staring out of the window like mad and not answering when +I ask you a decent question?” + +Still I made no reply. + +Provoked beyond endurance, yet held in check by that vague sense of +danger in the air,--which while not amounting to apprehension is often +sufficient to hold back from advance the most daring foot,--he stood +glaring at me in what I felt to be a very ferocious attitude, but made +no offer to move. Instantly I rose and still looking out of the window, +made with my hand what appeared to be a signal to some one on the +opposite side of the way. The ruse was effective. With an oath that +rings in my ears yet, he lifted his heavy cane and advanced upon me with +a bound, only to meet the same fate as his father at the hands of the +watchful detectives. Not, however, before that heavy cane came down upon +my head in a way to lay me in a heap at his feet and to sow the seeds +of that blinding head-ache, which has afflicted me by spells ever since. +But this termination of the affair was no more than I had feared from +the beginning; and indeed it was as much to protect Mrs. Blake from +the wrath of these men, as from any requirements of the situation I had +assumed the disguise I then wore. I therefore did not allow this mishap +to greatly trouble me, unpleasant as it was at the time, but, as soon +as ever I could do so, rose from the floor and throwing off my strange +habiliments, proceeded to finish up to my satisfaction, the work already +so successfully begun. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. LOVE AND DUTY + + +Dismissing the men who had assisted us in the capture of these two hardy +villains, we ranged our prisoners before us. + +“Now,” said Mr. Gryce, “no fuss and no swearing; you are in for it, and +you might as well take it quietly as any other way.” + +“Give me a clutch on that girl, that’s all,” said her father, “Where is +she? Let me see her; every father has a right to see his own daughter,” + +“You shall see her,” returned my superior, “but not till her husband is +here to protect her.” + +“Her husband? ah, you know about that do you?” growled the heavy voice +of the son. “A rich man they say he is and a proud one. Let him come +and look at us lying here like dogs and say how he will enjoy having his +wife’s father and brother grinding away their lives in prison.” + +“Mr. Blake is coming,” quoth Mr. Gryce, who by some preconcerted signal +from the window had drawn that gentleman across the street. “He will +tell you himself that he considers prison the best place for you. Blast +you! but he--” + +“But he, what?” inquired I, as the door opened and Mr. Blake with a pale +face and agitated mien entered the room. + +The wretch did not answer. Rousing from the cowering position in which +they had both lain since their capture, the father and son struggled +up in some sort of measure to their feet, and with hot, anxious eyes +surveyed the countenance of the gentleman before them, as if they felt +their fate hung upon the expression of his pallid face. The son was the +first to speak. + +“How do you do, brother-in-law,” were his sullen and insulting words. + +Mr. Blake shuddered and cast a look around. + +“My wife?” murmured he. + +“She is well,” was the assurance given by Mr. Gryce, “and in a room not +far from this. I will send for her if you say so.” + +“No, not yet,” came in a sort of gasp; “let me look at these wretches +first, and understand if I can what my wife has to suffer from her +connection with them.” + +“Your wife,” broke in the father, “what’s that to do with it; the +question is how do you like it and what will you do to get us clear of +this thing.” + +“I will do nothing,” returned Mr. Blake. “You amply merit your doom and +you shall suffer it to the end for all time.” + +“It will read well in the papers,” exclaimed the son. + +“The papers are to know nothing about it,” I broke in. “All knowledge +of your connection with Mr. or Mrs. Blake is to be buried in this spot +before we or you leave it. Not a word of her or him is to cross the lips +of either of you from this hour. I have set that down as a condition and +it has got to be kept.” + +“You have, have you,” thundered in chorus from father and son. “And who +are you to make conditions, and what do you think we are that you expect +us to keep them? Can you do anymore than put us back from where we came +from?” + +For reply I took from my pocket the ring I had fished out of the ashes +of their kitchen stove on that memorable visit to their house, and +holding it up before their faces, looked them steadily in the eye. + +A sudden wild glare followed by a bluish palor that robbed their +countenances of their usual semblance of daring ferocity, answered me +beyond my fondest hopes. + +“I got that out of the stove where you had burned your prison clothing,” + said I. “It is a cheap affair, but it will send you to the gallows if I +choose to use it against you. The pedlar--” + +“Hush,” exclaimed the father in a low choked tone greatly in contrast to +any he had yet used in all our dealings with him. “Throw that ring out +of the window and I promise to hold my tongue about any matter you don’t +want spoke of. I’m not a fool--” + +“Nor I,” was my quick reply, as I restored the ring to my pocket. “While +that remains in my possession together with certain facts concerning +your habits in that old house of yours which have lately been made known +to me, your life hangs by a thread I can any minute snip in two. Mr. +Blake here, has spent some portion of a night in your house and knows +how near it lies to a certain precipice, at foot of which--” + +“Mein Gott, father, why don’t you say something!” leaped in cowed +accents from the son’s white lips. “If they want us to keep quiet, let +them say so and not go talking about things that--” + +“Now look here,” interposed Mr. Gryce stepping before them with a look +that closed their mouths at once. “I will just tell you what we propose +to do. You are to go back to prison and serve your time out, there is +no help for that, but as long as you behave yourselves and continue +absolutely silent regarding your relationship to the wife of this +gentleman, you shall have paid into a certain bank that he will name, +a monthly sum that upon your dismissal from jail shall be paid you with +whatever interest it may have accumulated. You are ready to promise +that, are you not?” he inquired turning to Mr. Blake. + +That gentleman bowed and named the sum, which was liberal enough, and +the bank. + +“But,” continued the detective, ignoring the sudden flash of eye that +passed between the father and son, “let me or any of us hear of a word +having been uttered by you, which in the remotest way shall suggest that +you have in the world such a connection as Mrs. Blake, and the money not +only stops going into the bank, but old scores shall be raked up against +you with a zeal which if it does not stop your mouth in one way, will in +another, and that with a suddenness you will not altogether relish.” + +The men with a dogged air from which the bravado had however fled, +turned and looked from one to the other of us in a fearful, inquiring +way that duly confessed to the force of the impression made by these +words upon their slow but not unimaginative minds. + +“Do you three promise to keep our secret if we keep yours?” muttered the +father with an uneasy glance at my pocket. + +“We certainly do,” was our solemn return. + +“Very well; call in the girl and let me just look at her, then, before +we go. We won’t say nothing,” continued he, seeing Mr. Blake shrink, +“only she is my daughter and if I cannot bid her good-bye--” + +“Let him see his child,” cried Mr. Blake turning with a shudder to the +window. “I--I wish it,” added he. + +Straightway with hasty foot I left the room. Going to the little closet +where I had ordered his wife to remain concealed, I knocked and entered. +She was crouched in an attitude of prayer on the floor, her face buried +in her hands, and her whole person breathing that agony of suspense that +is a torture to the sensitive soul. + +“Mrs. Blake,” said I, dismissing the landlady who stood in helpless +distress beside her, “the arrest has been satisfactorily made and your +father calls for you to say good-bye before going away with us. Will you +come?” + +“But my--my--Mr. Blake?” exclaimed she leaping to her feet. “I am sure I +heard his footstep in the hall?” + +“He is with your father and brother. It was at his command I came for +you.” + +A gleam hard to interpret flashed for an instant over her face. With +her eye on the door she towered in her womanly dignity, while thoughts +innumerable seemed to rush in wild succession through her mind. + +“Will you not come?” I urged. + +“I--,” she paused. “I will go see my father,” she murmured, “but--” + +Suddenly she trembled and drew back; a step was in the hall, on the +threshold, at her side; Mr. Blake had come to reclaim his bride. + +“Mr. Blake!” + +The word came from her in a low tone shaken with the concentrated +anguish of many a month of longing and despair, but there was no +invitation in its sound, and he who had held out his arms, stopped and +surveying her with a certain deprecatory glance in his proud eye, said, + +“You are right; I have first my acknowledgments to make and your +forgiveness to ask before I can hope--” + +“No, no,” she broke in, “your coming here is enough, I request no more. +If you felt unkindly toward me--” + +“Unkindly?” A world of love thrilled in that word. “Luttra, I am your +husband and rejoice that I am so; it is to lay the devotion of my heart +and life at your feet that I seek your presence this hour. The year has +taught me--ah, what has not the year taught me of the worth of her I so +recklessly threw from me on my wedding day. Luttra,”--he held out his +hand--“will you crown all your other acts of devotion with a pardon +that will restore me to my manhood and that place in your esteem which I +covet above every other earthly good?” + +Her face which had been raised to his with that earnest look we knew so +well, softened with an ineffable smile, but still she did not lay her +hand in his. + +“And you say this to me in the very hour of my father’s and brother’s +arrest! With the remembrance in your mind of their bound and abject +forms lying before you guarded by police; knowing too, that they deserve +their ignominy and the long imprisonment that awaits them?” + +“No, I say it on the day of the discovery and the restoration of that +wife for whom I have long searched, and to whom when found I have no +word to give but welcome, welcome, welcome.” + +With the same deep smile she bowed her head, “Now let come what will, +I can never again be unhappy,” were the words I caught, uttered in the +lowest of undertones. But in another moment her head had regained its +steady poise and a great change had passed over her manner. + +“Mr. Blake,” said she, “you are good; how good, I alone can know and +duly appreciate who have lived in your house this last year and seen +with eyes that missed nothing, just what your surroundings are and have +been from the earliest years of your proud life. But goodness must not +lead you into the committal of an act you must and will repent to your +dying day; or if it does, I who have learned my duty in the school of +adversity, must show the courage of two and forbid what every secret +instinct of my soul declares to be only provocative of shame and sorrow. +You would take me to your heart as your wife; do you realize what that +means?” + +“I think I do,” was his earnest reply. “Relief from heart-ache, Luttra.” + +Her smooth brow wrinkled with a sudden spasm of pain but her firm lips +did not quiver. + +“It means,” said she, drawing nearer but not with that approach which +indicates yielding, “it means, shame to the proudest family that lives +in the land. It means silence as regards a past blotted by suggestions +of crime; and apprehension concerning a future across which the shadow +of prison walls must for so many years lie. It means, the hushing of +certain words upon beloved lips; the turning of cherished eyes from +visions where fathers and daughters ay, brothers and sisters are +seen joined together in tender companionship or loving embrace. It +means,--God help me to speak out--a home without the sanctity of +memories; a husband without the honors he has been accustomed to enjoy; +a wife with a fear gnawing like a serpent into her breast; and children, +yes, perhaps children from whose innocent lips the sacred word of +grandfather can never fall without wakening a blush on the cheeks of +their parents, which all their lovesome prattle will be helpless to +chase away.” + +“Luttra, your father and your brother have given their consent to go +their dark way alone and trouble you no more. The shadow you speak of +may lie on your heart, dear wife, for these men are of your own blood, +but it need never invade the hearthstone beside which I ask you to sit. +The world will never know, whether you come with me or not, that +Luttra Blake was ever Luttra Schoenmaker. Will you not then give me the +happiness of striving to make such amends for the past, that you too, +will forget you ever bore any other name than the one you now honor so +truly?” + +“O do not,” she began but paused with a sudden control of her emotion +that lifted her into an atmosphere almost holy in its significance. “Mr. +Blake,” said she, “I am a woman and therefore weak to the voice of love +pleading in my ear. But in one thing I am strong, and that is in my +sense of what is due to the man I have sworn to honor. Eleven months ago +I left you because your pleasure and my own dignity demanded it; to-day +I put by all the joy and exaltation you offer, because your position as +a gentleman, and your happiness as a man equally requires it.” + +“My happiness as a man!” he broke in. “Ah, Luttra if you love me as I do +you--” + +“I might perhaps yield,” she allowed with a faint smile. “But I love +you as a girl brought up amid surroundings from which her whole being +recoiled, must love the one who first brought light into her darkness +and opened up to her longing feet the way to a life of culture, purity +and honor. I were the basest of women could I consent to repay such a +boundless favor--” + +“But Luttra,” he again broke in, “you married me knowing what your +father and brother were capable of committing.” + +“Yes, yes; I was blinded by passion, a girl’s passion, Mr. Blake, born +of glamour and gratitude; not the self-forgetting devotion of a woman +who has tasted the bitterness of life and so learned its lesson of +sacrifice. I may not have thought, certainly I did not realize, what I +was doing. Besides, my father and brother were not convicted criminals +at that time, however weak they had proved themselves under temptation. +And then I believed I had left them behind me on the road of life; that +we were sundered, irrevocably cut loose from all possible connection. +But such ties are not to be snapped so easily. They found me, you see, +and they will find me again--” + +“Never!” exclaimed her husband. “They are as dead to you as if the grave +had swallowed them. I have taken care of that.” + +“But the shame! you have not taken care of that. That exists and must, +and while it does I remain where I can meet it alone. I love you; God’s +sun is not dearer to my eyes; but I will never cross your threshold as +your wife till the opprobrium can be cut loose from my skirts, and the +shadow uplifted from my brow. A queen with high thoughts in her eyes and +brave hopes in her heart were not too good to enter that door with you. +Shall a girl who has lived three weeks in an atmosphere of such crime +and despair, that these rooms have often seemed to me the gateway to +hell, carry there, even in secrecy, the effects of that atmosphere? I +will cherish your goodness in my heart but do not ask me to bury that +heart in any more exalted spot, than some humble country home, where +my life may be spent in good deeds and my love in prayers for the man I +hold dear, and because I hold dear, leave to his own high path among the +straight and unshadowed courses of the world.” + +And with a gesture that inexorably shut him off while it expressed the +most touching appeal, she glided by him and took her way to the room +where her father and brother awaited her presence. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. EXPLANATIONS + + +“I cannot endure this,” came in one burst of feeling from the lips of +Mr. Blake. “She don’t know, she don’t realize--Sir,” cried he, suddenly +becoming conscious of my presence in the room, “will you be good enough +to see that this note,” he hastily scribbled one, “is carried across the +way to my house and given to Mrs. Daniels.” + +I bowed assent, routed up one of the men in the next room and despatched +it at once. + +“Perhaps she will listen to the voice of one of her own sex if not to +me,” said he; and began pacing the floor of the narrow room in which we +were, with a wildness of impatience that showed to what depths had sunk +the hope of gaining this lovely woman for his own. + +Feeling myself no longer necessary in that spot, I followed where my +wishes led and entered the room where Luttra was bidding good-bye to her +father. + +“I shall never forget,” I heard her say as I crossed the floor to where +Mr. Gryce stood looking out of the window, “that your blood runs in my +veins together with that of my gentle-hearted, never-to-be-forgotten +mother. Whatever my fate may be or wherever I may hide the head you have +bowed to the dust, be sure I shall always lift up my hands in prayer for +your repentance and return to an honest life. God grant that my prayers +may be heard and that I may yet receive at your hands, a father’s kindly +blessing.” + +The only answer to this was a heavily muttered growl that gave but +little promise of any such peaceful termination to a deeply vicious +life. Hearing it, Mr. Gryce hastened to procure his men and remove the +hardened wretches from the spot. All through the preparations for their +departure, she stood and watched their sullen faces with a wild yearning +in her eye that could scarcely be denied, but when the door finally +closed upon them, and she was left standing there with no one in the +room but myself she steadied herself up as one who is conscious that all +the storms of heaven are about to break upon her; and turning slowly +to the door waited with arms crossed and a still determination upon her +brow, the coming of the feet of him whose resolve she felt must have, as +yet been only strengthened by her resistance. + +She had not long to wait. Almost with the closing of the street door +upon the detectives and their prisoners, Mr. Blake followed by Mrs. +Daniels and another lady whose thick veil and long cloak but illy +concealed the patrician features and stately form of the Countess De +Mirac, entered the room. + +The surprise had its effect; Luttra was evidently for the moment thrown +off her guard. + +“Mrs. Daniels!” she breathed, holding out her hands with a longing +gesture. + +“My dear mistress!” returned that good woman, taking those hands in hers +but in a respectful way that proved the constraint imposed upon her by +Mr. Blake’s presence. “Do I see you again and safe?” + +“You must have thought I cared little for the anxiety you would be sure +to feel,” said that fair young mistress, gazing with earnestness into +the glad but tearful eyes of the housekeeper. “But indeed, I have +been in no position to communicate with you, nor could I do so without +risking that to protect which I so outraged my feelings as to leave the +house at all. I mean the life and welfare of its master, Mrs. Daniels.” + +“Ha, what is that?” quoth Mr. Blake. “It was to save me, you consented +to follow them?” + +“Yes; what else would have led me to such an action? They might have +killed me, I would not have cared, but when they began to utter threats +against you--” + +“Mrs. Blake,” exclaimed Mrs. Daniels, catching hold of her mistress’s +uplifted hand, and pointing to a scar that slightly disfigured her white +arm a little above the wrist, “Mrs. Blake, what’s that?” + +A pink flush, the first I had seen on her usually pale countenance, rose +for an instant to her cheeks, and she seemed to hesitate. + +“It was not there when I last saw you, Mrs. Blake.” + +“No,” was the slow reply, “I found myself forced that night to inflict +upon myself a little wound. It is nothing, let it go.” + +“No, Luttra I cannot let it go,” said her husband, advancing towards her +with something like gentle command. “I must hear not only about this but +all the other occurrences of that night. How came they to find you in +the refuge you had attained?” + +“I think,” said she in a low tone the underlying suffering of which +it would be hard to describe, “that it was not to seek me they first +invaded your house. They had heard you were a rich man, and the sight +of that ladder running up the side of the new extension was too much for +them. Indeed I know that it was for purposes of robbery they came, for +they had hired this room opposite you some days previous to making the +attempt. You see they were almost destitute of money and though they had +some buried in the cellar of the old house in Vermont, they dared not +leave the city to procure it. My brother was obliged to do so later, +however. It was a surprise to them seeing me in your house. They had +reached the roof of the extension and were just lifting up the corner of +the shade I had dropped across the open window--I always open my window +a few minutes before preparing to retire--when I rose from the chair in +which I had been brooding, and turned up the gas. I was combing my hair +at the time and so of course they recognized me. Instantly they gave +a secret signal I, alas, remembered only too well, and crouching back, +bade me put out the light that they might enter with safety. I was at +first too much startled to realize the consequences of my action, and +with some vague idea that they had discovered my retreat and come for +purposes of advice or assistance, I did what they bid. Immediately they +threw back the shade and came in, their huge figures looming frightfully +in the faint light made by a distant gas lamp in the street below. +‘What do you want?’ were my first words uttered in a voice I scarcely +recognized for my own; ‘why do you steal on me like this in the night +and through an open window fifty feet from the ground? Aren’t you afraid +you will be discovered and sent back to the prison from which you have +escaped?’ Their reply sent a chill through my blood and awoke me to a +realization of what I had done in thus allowing two escaped convicts +to enter a house not my own. ‘We want money and we’re not afraid of +anything now you are here.’ And without heeding my exclamation of +horror, they coolly told me that they would wait where they were till +the household was asleep, when they would expect me to show them the way +to the silver closet or what was better, the safe or wherever it was Mr. +Blake kept his money. I saw they took me for a servant, as indeed I was, +and for some minutes I managed to preserve that position in their eyes. +But when in a sudden burst of rage at my refusal to help them, they +pushed me aside and hurried to the door with the manifest intention of +going below, I forgot prudence in my fears and uttered some wild +appeal to them not to do injury to any one in the house for it was my +husband’s. Of course that disclosure had its natural effect. + +“They stopped, but only to beset me with questions till the whole truth +came out. I could not have committed a worse folly than thus taking them +into my confidence. Instantly the advantages to be gained by using my +secret connection with so wealthy a man for the purpose of cowering me +and blackmailing him, seemed to strike both their minds at once, slow +as they usually are to receive impressions. The silver-closet and +money-safe sank to a comparatively insignificant position in their eyes, +and to get me out of the house, and with my happiness at stake, treat +with the honorable man who notwithstanding his non-approval of me as a +woman, still regarded me as his lawfully wedded wife, became in their +eyes a thing of such wonderful promise they were willing to run any and +every risk to test its value. But here to their great astonishment +I rebelled; astonishment because they could not realize my desiring +anything above money and the position to which they declared I was by +law entitled. In vain I pleaded my love; in vain I threatened exposure +of their plans if not whereabouts. The mine of gold which they fondly +believed they had stumbled upon unawares, promised too richly to be +easily abandoned. ‘You must go with us,’ said they, ‘if not peaceably +then by force,’ and they actually advanced upon me, upsetting a chair +and tearing down one of the curtains to which I clung. It was then I +committed that little act concerning which you questioned me. I wanted +to show them I was not to be moved by threats of that character; that I +did not even fear the shedding of my blood; and that they would only be +wasting their time in trying to sway me by hints of personal violence. +And they were a little impressed, sufficiently so at least to turn their +threats in another direction, awakening fears at last which I could not +conceal, much as I felt it would be policy to do so. Gathering up a few +articles I most prized, my wedding ring, Mr. Blake, and a photograph of +yourself that Mrs. Daniels had been kind enough to give me, I put on my +bonnet and cloak and said I would go with them, since they persisted in +requiring it. The fact is I no longer possessed motive or strength +to resist. Even your unexpected appearance at the door, Mrs. Daniels, +offered no prospect of hope. Arouse the house? what would that do? +only reveal my cherished secret and perhaps jeopardize the life of my +husband. Besides, they were my own near kin, remember, and so had some +little claim upon my consideration, at least to the point of my not +personally betraying them unless they menaced immediate and actual harm. +The escape by the window which would have been a difficult task for most +women to perform, was easy enough for me. I was brought up to wild +ways you know, and the descent of a ladder forty feet long was a +comparatively trivial thing for me to accomplish. It was the tearing +away from a life of silent peace, the reentrance of my soul into an +atmosphere of sin and deadly plotting, that was the hard thing, the +difficult dreadful thing which hung weights to my feet, and made me +well nigh mad. And it was this which at the sight of a policeman in the +street led me to make an effort to escape. But it was not successful. +Though I was fortunate enough to free myself from the grasp of my father +and brother, I reached the gate on ----- street only to encounter the +eyes of him whose displeasure I most feared, looking sternly upon me +from the other side. The shock was too much for me in my then weak and +unnerved condition. Without considering anything but the fact that he +never had known and never must, that I had been in the same house with +him for so long, I rushed back to the corner and into the arms of the +men who awaited me. How you came to be there, Mr. Blake, or why you did +not open the gate and follow, I cannot say.” + +“The gate was locked,” returned that gentleman. “You remember it closes +with a spring, and can only be opened by means of a key which I did not +have.” + +“My father had it,” she murmured; “he spent a whole week in the endeavor +to get hold of it, and finally succeeded on the evening of the very day +he used it. It was left in the lock I believe.” + +“So much for servants,” I whispered to myself. + +“The next morning,” continued she, “they put the case very plainly +before me. I was at liberty to return at once to my home if I would +promise to work in their interest by making certain demands upon you as +your wife. All they wanted, said they, was a snug little sum and a lift +out of the country. If I would secure them these, they would trouble me +no more. But I could not concede to anything of that nature, of course, +and the consequence was these long weeks of imprisonment and suspense; +weeks that I do not now begrudge, seeing they have brought me the +assurance of your esteem and the knowledge, that wherever I go, your +thoughts will follow me with compassion if not with love.” + +And having told her story and thus answered his demands, she assumed +once more the position of lofty reserve that seemed to shut him back +from advance like a wall of invincible crystal. + + + +CHAPTER XX. THE BOND THAT UNITES + + +But he was not to be discouraged. “And after all this, after all you +have suffered for my sake and your own, do you think you have a right to +deny me the one desire of my heart? How can you reconcile it with your +ideas of devotion, Luttra?” + +“My ideas of devotion look beyond the present, Mr. Blake. It is to save +you from years of wearing anxiety that I consent to the infliction upon +you of a passing pang.” + +He took a bold step forward. “Luttra, you do not know a man’s heart. To +lose you now would not merely inflict a passing pang, but sow the seeds +of a grief that would go with me to the grave.” + +“Do you then”--she began, but paused blushing. Mrs. Daniels took the +opportunity to approach her on the other side. + +“My dear mistress,” said she, “you are wrong to hold out in this +matter.” And her manner betrayed something of the peculiar agitation +that had belonged to it in the former times of her secret embarassment. +“I, who have honored the family which I have so long served, above every +other in the land, tell you that you can do it no greater good than +to join it now, or inflict upon it any greater harm than to wilfully +withdraw yourself from the position in which God has placed you.” + +“And I,” said another voice, that of the Countess de Mirac, who up to +this time had held herself in the background, but who now came forward +and took her place with the rest, “I, who have borne the name of Blake, +and who am still the proudest of them all at heart, I, the Countess de +Mirac, cousin to your husband there, repeat what this good woman has +said, and in holding out my hand to you, ask you to make my cousin happy +and his family contented by assuming that position in his household +which the law as well as his love accords you.” + +The girl looked at the daintily gloved hand held out to her, colored +faintly, and put her own within it. + +“I thank you for your goodness,” said she, surveying with half-sad, +half-admiring glances, the somewhat pale face of the beautiful brunette. + +“And you will yield to our united requests?” She cast her eye down at +the spot where her father and brother had cowered in their shackles, and +shook her head. “I dare not,” said she. + +Immediately Mrs. Daniels, whose emotion had been increasing every moment +since she last spoke, plunged her hand into her bosom and drew out a +folded paper. + +“Mrs. Blake,” said she, “if you could be convinced that what I have told +you was true, and that you would be irretrievably injuring your husband +and his interests, by persisting in that desertion of him which you +purpose, would you not consent to reconsider your determination, settled +as it appears to be?” + +“If I could be made to see that, most certainly,” returned she in a low +voice whose broken accents betrayed at what cost she remained true to +her resolve. “But I cannot.” + +“Perhaps the sight of this paper will help you,” said she. And turning +to Mr. Blake she exclaimed, “Your pardon for what I am called upon to +do. A duty has been laid upon me which I cannot avoid, hard as it is for +an old servant to perform. This paper--but it is no more than just that +you, sir, should see and read it first.” And with a hand that quivered +with fear or some equally strong emotion, she put it in his clasp. + +The exclamation that rewarded the act made us all start forward. “My +father’s handwriting!” were his words. + +“Executed under my eye,” observed Mrs. Daniels. + +His glance ran rapidly down the sheet and rested upon the final +signature. + +“Why has this been kept from me?” demanded he, turning upon Mrs. Daniels +with sternness. + +“Your father so willed it,” was her reply. “‘For a year’ was his +command, ‘you shall keep this my last will and testament which I give +into your care with my dying hands, a secret from the world. At the +expiration of that time mark if my son’s wife sits at the head of her +husband’s table; if she does and is happy, suppress this by deliberately +giving it to the flames, but if from any reason other than death, she is +not seen there, carry it at once to my son, and bid him as he honors +my memory, to see that my wishes as there expressed are at once carried +out.’” + +The paper in Mr. Blake’s hand fluttered. + +“You are aware what those wishes are?” said he. + +“I steadied his hand while he wrote,” was her sad and earnest reply. + +Mr. Blake turned with a look of inexpressible deference to his wife. + +“Madame,” said he “when I urged you with such warmth to join your +fate to mine and honor my house by presiding over it, I thought I was +inviting you to share the advantages of wealth as well as the love of +a lonely man’s heart. This paper undeceives me. Luttra, the +daughter-in-law of Abner Blake, not Holman, his son, is the one who +by the inheritance of his millions has the right to command in this +presence.” + +With a cry she took from him the will whose purport was thus briefly +made known. “O, how could he, how could he?” exclaimed she, running her +eye down the sheet, and then crushing it spasmodically to her breast. +“Did he not realize that he could do me no greater wrong?” Then in one +yielding up of her whole womanhood to the mighty burst of passion that +had been flooding the defenses of her heart for so long, she exclaimed +in a voice the mingled rapture and determination of which rings in my +ears even now, “And is it a thing like this with its suggestions of +mercenary interest that shall bridge the gulf that separates you and me? +Shall the giving or the gaining of a fortune make necessary the unital +of lives over which holier influences have beamed and loftier hopes +shone? No, no; by the smile with which your dying father took me to his +breast, love alone, with the hope and confidence it gives, shall be the +bond to draw us together and make of the two separate planes on which we +stand, a common ground where we can meet and be happy.” + +And with one supreme gesture she tore into pieces the will which she +held, and sank all aglow with woman’s divinest joy into the arms held +out to receive her. + + * * * * * + +I was present at the wedding-reception given them by the Countess De +Mirac in her elegant apartments at the Windsor. I never saw a happier +bride, nor a husband in whose eyes burned a deeper contentment. To all +questions as to who this extraordinary woman could be, where she was +found, and in what place and at what time she was married, the Countess +had apt replies whose art of hushing curiosity without absolutely +satisfying it, was one of the tokens she yet preserved, of her short +sway as grand lady, in the gayest and most hollow city of the world. + +As I prepared to leave a scene perhaps the most gratifying in many +respects that I had ever witnessed, I felt a slight touch on my arm. It +came from Mrs. Blake who with her husband had crossed the room to bid me +farewell. + +“Will you allow me to thank you,” said she, “for the risk you ran for +me one day and of which I have just heard. It was an act that merits the +gratitude of years, and as such shall be always remembered by me. If +the old French artist with the racking cough ever desires a favor at my +hands, let him feel free to ask it. The interest I experienced in him in +the days of my trouble, will suffer no abatement in these of my joy and +prosperity.” And with a look that was more than words, she gave me a +flower from the bouquet she held in her hand, and smilingly withdrew. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s A Strange Disappearance, by Anna Katharine Green + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1167 *** |