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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78254 ***
+
+
+
+
+SILENT GUESTS
+
+
+
+
+  SILENT
+  GUESTS
+
+  By
+  A. E. Forrest
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  CHICAGO
+  PASCAL COVICI, _Publisher_
+  MCMXXVII
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1927, BY
+  PASCAL COVICI, PUBLISHER, INC.
+
+  PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY
+  THE CUNEO PRESS, INC.
+
+
+
+
+  “_What lurks behind the curtain? Wouldst thou learn? If thou art wise
+  thou wouldst not_--”
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+A mysterious thing, the human mind. Can it keep a secret indefinitely?
+Here I find myself committing to paper things which I had determined
+never to divulge--sacred things long hidden; intimate privacies having
+their roots in the soul.
+
+However, these written pages shall never be seen by the merely
+inquisitive eye, but shall be safely hidden away and kept as a
+faithful attestation of the genesis of this house--unless fate
+decrees otherwise. I believe in fate--are we not all merely its
+playthings--toys moved hither and yon in Nature’s nursery?
+
+Was it fate that called me from my accustomed life and routine in a
+distant American city to that little churchyard in a secluded corner of
+the Canadian backwoods, where so trivial a thing as curiosity aroused
+by the peculiarity of an epitaph chiseled in a marble headstone marking
+the grave of an unknown led me into a realm of fact more unreal than
+even the wildest of dreams and unfolded to me in reality the pages of
+a weird, transcendental drama? Was it predestined that I should leave
+home and friends and find in this sparsely settled spot an interest
+which inextricably drew the very threads of my being into the tangled
+skein of other and tragic lives?
+
+The mission calling me from the office of a firm of lawyers in
+Philadelphia into which I had but recently been admitted as junior
+partner was a forlorn search for traces of an Englishman, one James
+Hogarth, who had, while in Canada, mysteriously disappeared. The case
+was important and urgent, we were informed by our clients in London, as
+seven years had elapsed since Hogarth, heir to a large estate, had been
+heard from, and the property was about to escheat to the British crown.
+
+I was following a seemingly slender clue--the statement of a butler
+once in the employ of the Hogarth family that “some six or seven years
+previously he had seen a letter postmarked ‘Valleyford, Canada’ in
+which Hogarth made mention of a place called Craighead Hall.”
+
+On this meager thread rested our firm’s hope of a large fee and mine of
+proving my qualification as a worthwhile partner.
+
+My third day of travel on this, my first long journey, brought me to
+a village called Laketown, reached only by local train. This day is
+indelibly fixed in my memory. It was a bright September morning, and
+marked the last stopping point before reaching my destination.
+
+No premonition of anything untoward troubled me as I rested comfortably
+on the cushions of an old-fashioned high-swung stage-coach as it rolled
+quietly along a smooth dirt road away from the village. My spirits were
+high through avid anticipations of success and the enjoyment of an
+unusual and well-deserved holiday.
+
+Alone in the coach, a long twenty-mile ride before me, I had
+ample opportunity for reflection. What should I find: romance,
+mystery, perhaps danger, for impulsively even before transferring
+my luggage from the depot platform to the stage-coach labeled
+“Laketown-Valleyford,” I had questioned the driver of the team of bays:
+
+“Do you know of a place called Craighead Hall?”
+
+The man had given me a peculiar inspection.
+
+“Yes, but nobody of your kind ever goes there.”
+
+Further inquiry brought curiosity but little satisfaction. “Never been
+there.” “No, nobody ever went there.” “Place was some ten miles east of
+the village.” “Was said to be a resort for criminals, brought there by
+the owner, Hugh Craighead, who lived with them, a sort of overlord.”
+“No, I have never seen him, but I think you run a big chance of being
+murdered,” he speculated after I had informed him of my errand.
+
+The driver had never heard of James Hogarth, but volunteered that
+he would not be surprised at the disappearance of anyone who visited
+Craighead Hall.
+
+My pulse quickened at the thought of meeting this overlord of
+criminals, but before we reach thirty, romanticism holds strong,
+especially in those in whose veins flows Scotch blood, and my name is
+Montrose.
+
+“My partners know my destination,” was my thought, and there was
+nothing to dull the keenness of anticipation as we jogged on, straight
+into the wilderness.
+
+The regular thud of hoof on soft dirt became monotonous and I welcomed
+the opportunity of taking a seat beside the driver when a stop was made
+that the horses might drink from a small fordable stream crossing the
+roadway. The air was clear and bracing and the open country with its
+evidences of a recently gathered bountiful crop of wheat, barley and
+rye, in time gave place to dense woods.
+
+We traveled miles through an unbroken forest of hardwood; the maples
+had taken on their best scarlet dress and the oak and beech were
+changing. We neared a river; spruce and cedar trees occasionally opened
+to furnish a glimpse of white water tossed into spray. A waterfall, it
+must have been of some magnitude, gave notice of its force.
+
+The driver, pointing to an avenue between fronds of green, said
+“Kneeley’s Falls; the river drivers shoot that fall of eighteen feet.
+Craighead’s foreman tried it once--they got what was left of him six
+miles downstream.”
+
+Craighead again. I plied the man with questions, but he had no further
+information to impart.
+
+A wooded hill was on our left; not a human habitation had we passed
+in ten miles; dense thickets of green fringed the noisy river on the
+right. Suddenly we dropped without warning into civilization. We
+crossed on a wooden bridge about one hundred and fifty feet in length,
+a stream of water so black and swift that it presented the appearance
+of immobility.
+
+“The Ford, fifty feet deep and running like a millrace,” the driver
+volunteered, “but old Sandy Todd with his usual Saturday night load of
+gin aboard thought his mare could ford it.”
+
+The usual small town, I reflected; two main streets, post office at the
+bridge end, good brick buildings, one sporting four stories, at which
+I alighted. This was the Myrtle Bank Hotel, with a piazza a few feet
+above the board sidewalk.
+
+Though the usual small village crowd was assembled to witness the one
+exciting event of the day, the coach’s arrival, I was obliged to carry
+my portmanteau into the office.
+
+The dust of travel removed, a very fair dinner, then to the post
+office. Not the postmaster, hotel proprietor, or livery-stable keeper,
+nor any of the other citizens of whom I made inquiry had ever heard
+of Hogarth or any stranger visiting this man’s town. Nor could I hire
+a vehicle which would take me to the Craighead “plantation” as it was
+commonly called.
+
+I was not more fortunate on the following morning--“There is a funeral
+out in the country, everything engaged,” was the excuse vouchsafed at
+the public livery office. When I insisted, I was informed that roads
+were bad and Craighead kept a pack of vicious hounds that roamed the
+woods out to a high fence a mile from his house and did not welcome
+strangers. No villager had entered the place.
+
+In desperation I borrowed a ride on the seat beside a farmer whose
+homing course brought him within three miles of Craighead’s enclosure.
+We had traveled about seven miles and had just passed a small
+white-painted church when the taciturn farmer, who declined my proffer
+of money for the accommodation in terms equally decisive with those
+used in refusing to discuss the Craighead menage, spoke, a little
+excitement apparent in his voice:
+
+“There is Hugh Craighead now,” pointing to a little cemetery adjoining
+the church on the east. “He is at John Blank’s grave as usual.”
+
+In the far corner of this little churchyard fate brought me face to
+face with Hugh Craighead. The man was leaning on a white-painted
+paling enclosing an isolated grave just outside the God’s acre
+dedicated to remembrance. So absorbed in thought was he that he did not
+notice me until I was quite near and called him by name.
+
+I looked into the eyes of a man apparently in the early thirties;
+kindly yet piercing eyes, wide set in a strong, refined face.
+Tall, over six feet, symmetrical in build, yet showing evidence of
+a constitution none too robust. There was a something about his
+expression difficult of explanation--a sadness and yet not exactly
+that, the face of a soulful man with a history. Introducing myself, I
+stated my business and was pleased to hear him say: “Yes, I have heard
+the name Hogarth. James, I think it was.”
+
+My hopes of immediate success were shattered when he added, after
+a pause, “That was many years ago when I was abroad. The name was
+mentioned in the letter of a superintendent now dead.”
+
+I pushed my inquiry as far as I dared without appearing importunate,
+even suggesting that some old servant at his home might remember
+Hogarth’s visit. “There are no old servants at Craighead Hall,” he
+replied in a tone which forbade further questioning.
+
+Evidently feeling that his statement was inadequate, abrupt, he added,
+“You do not know of my establishment.”
+
+Sensing in the man’s peculiar mien a desire perhaps for privacy as to
+his peculiar affairs, I merely said, as I turned from him, “I am sorry.”
+
+In turning, my eye was caught by a peculiarity in the markings on the
+white marble slab at the head of the well-kept grave within the little
+enclosure. It carried only the words:
+
+  JOHN BLANK
+
+and underneath in chiseled script these lines:
+
+  _Weep not for me, my children dear,
+   I am not dead, but sleeping here;
+   The day will come when I shall rise
+   To meet my loved ones in the skies._
+
+There were lacking the customary dates; neither birth nor death
+was recorded, nothing but the name so suggestive of desire to hide
+identity, and the meaningless verse. The grave was evidently not
+old--could it not hold the object of my search, perhaps masquerading
+under the pseudonym John Blank?
+
+“Who was this man?” I abruptly inquired of Craighead. “You evidently
+knew him well.”
+
+A peculiar, hunted look came into Craighead’s eyes as he too turned to
+glance at the headstone. “Oh yes, I knew him well, knew him during my
+childhood,” and after a pause added, “I know him yet, but you would
+not understand,” and turned toward the roadway as though wishing to
+terminate the interview.
+
+“My friend,” I said, “What was this man’s real name--how did he die? I
+am much interested.”
+
+Craighead appeared troubled. After a keen direct look, holding my eyes
+by something peculiar in his, he said, “His history is strange, most
+tragic. I have never discussed it with any person.” Then he hesitated,
+“But I rather like your manner, Mr.----”
+
+“Montrose. Gordon Montrose,” I hastily answered. “You evidently did not
+catch the name.”
+
+“No, I was somewhat nonplussed when you addressed me. You know Hugh
+Craighead has few friends hereabout,” he said rather pridefully, I then
+thought.
+
+The thought persisted--“This may be acting.”
+
+“A relative, I presume, and a much loved one to bring you out to his
+resting place,” I ventured.
+
+“No,” Craighead replied, “the man was just one of the many
+unfortunates, a plaything of fate, whose life was a fever and whose
+death was a terrible tragedy. But,” he continued, “he did not suffer
+alone, as I find cases just as sad as his in our work.”
+
+“I don’t think I quite understand your real work, Mr. Craighead.”
+
+He smiled peculiarly. “I am doing for both body and soul what your
+ministers of the gospel claim to be doing for the soul. I am salving
+the mentality of the derelicts of Canada, picking up the hulks held in
+the whirlpool and those set adrift by the state to become a new menace
+to society; searching out the history of felons claiming innocence or
+justification and obtaining the release of the worthy; caring for them
+until self-respect returns.”
+
+Craighead turned toward Blank’s grave. “That silent sleeper there, a
+felon, a suicide, yet a man--every inch a man. Would to God I had been
+a grown man and had known his wrongs.”
+
+He drew his hand across his eyes as though wiping away a film, a vision
+stirred by recollection; then, as though exhausted, seated himself on a
+flat slab of marble covering all that was mortal of one who had lived
+and loved and was no more.
+
+Both of us fell silent. There was for me a moment of embarrassment;
+the man was so gentlemanly, so womanish and yet so strong. Nothing of
+the overlord I had pictured; my sympathies were keenly aroused. “I
+should like to hear his story,” I said, “maybe I can render you some
+assistance;” an attempt to break the embarrassing silence rather than
+the expression of a hope.
+
+Craighead looked keenly at me, seeming to wish to read my thought
+as well as character and after a pause, “Mr. Montrose, what is your
+calling?”
+
+“Lawyer,” I answered, “and you are also a lawyer. I was informed that
+you were interested in helping criminals, but did not quite grasp the
+nature of your work. I wish I could see the reformatory.”
+
+“Reformatory!” he shot back. “You shall. Why man, that word reeks of
+abuse, cruelty, petty graft and everything that is loathsome. You shall
+see my _home_, my guests, the evidence of the worth of my work.”
+
+Here he paused as I replied, promptly accepting the invitation. Into
+his eyes that were blazing crept a look of defeat, fear, I thought. He
+looked at his watch, glanced at the sun just disappearing behind the
+ridge of the peaked roof of the one-storied church. I could read a wish
+to recall the invitation.
+
+“Mr. Montrose, night will soon be here. You are seven miles from the
+village, without a conveyance. I have few callers at Craighead Hall.
+Frankly, were there any means of getting you back to your hotel, I
+should ask you to spend the day, rather than--” again he hesitated as
+though reflecting--
+
+“However, I shall enjoy your company tonight,” and his face lighted
+as he added, “It is long since I have spent an evening in the company
+of a brother in the law--and I may wish to ask your advice on a
+matter--Well, my home is but three miles away.”
+
+In silence we walked southward across fields of wheat stubble--across
+plowed land. No fenced road was encountered until just before coming
+to a dense wood. We turned into a broad pathway--it was little
+more--the turf had, however, been cut by the wheels of vehicles.
+
+Save for a monosyllabic “A short cut,” from my host, no word passed
+between us. Craighead seemed in a brown study and I felt the intruder.
+We reached the border of the wood, a high fence stretched off to right
+and left as far as I could see. Craighead selected a key from a ring
+holding many of varying sizes and unlocked a small gate in the fence,
+paused for me to enter, then relocked the gate.
+
+I began to entertain misgivings. The man was certainly peculiar. Was
+he sane? What was hidden in this dark timber confronting us? Was I but
+following Hogarth, to disappear?
+
+A well-defined roadway led us into deeper shadows. Footsteps made
+scarcely a sound as they pressed the damp leaves under foot. The
+gloom was oppressive. The silence of the man walking alongside though
+just a step ahead, the eerie surroundings, all tended to stir in me a
+foreboding of evil.
+
+I was about to break the silence, although my host’s preoccupied manner
+indicated such an intrusion presumptuous, when the air was suddenly
+shattered by a most startling sound, the baying, near at hand, of what
+seemed an army of hounds.
+
+I stopped, frozen in my tracks. Before I could utter a word, Craighead
+placed two fingers in his mouth giving a shrill whistle as half-a-dozen
+huge, long-eared brown animals came hurtling into the roadway from all
+directions. We had been surrounded, effectually trapped.
+
+Abruptly the animals stopped, every beast alert, then Craighead said
+gently, “Come on boys, ’tis only your master.”
+
+They crowded about him, emitting short muffled sounds, not touching
+him, just seemingly expressing joy and affection. I had retreated a
+step or two, involuntarily, but aside from being the recipient of a
+glance from many an upturned eye in which the white showed viciously
+from ugly, many-wrinkled heads, I was ignored.
+
+As we followed the dogs, a pack of bloodhounds I observed, my
+uneasiness increased, and the pathway becoming more and more obscure as
+twilight deepened into night, I thought of retreat.
+
+Craighead suddenly stopped, laid his hand on my shoulder, “Pardon my
+seeming boorishness, Mr. Montrose. I have a heavy problem; you don’t
+mind my thinking it out?”
+
+“Not in the least,” I replied, glad to hear his voice addressing me. He
+sent the dogs ahead of us with a word.
+
+“In my peculiar work I sometimes have to call on my four-footed
+friends here for aid in running down some poor devil who in gaining
+physical freedom loses what little mental poise prison has left him
+and endeavors too early a return to old haunts, where he would soon
+become either the hunted or the hunter among the wolves of society, and
+eventually find his way back into confinement.
+
+“These are bloodhounds, most intelligent brutes. They will run down and
+hold but will not harm any person. You see I have many thousands of
+acres in my home; the country is sparsely settled. Bears, wolves and
+the dreaded lynx are plentiful, even in this wood, though we hunt them
+incessantly. Thank Heaven, though a number of men have run away, nobody
+has been eaten yet.”
+
+We had been walking with long strides and, just then, emerged from the
+wood into a clearing. The terrain rose quite rapidly as we advanced,
+until at length we were on a plateau across which we followed a
+well-made road seemingly for a long distance. The fading twilight
+could not hide the fact that on either side were cultivated fields and
+away to the right a dark shadow marked a hill, much higher than the
+elevation which we had attained.
+
+Craighead appeared to be hurrying as though anxious to make some goal
+before darkness closed down; there was a moon, but it had not yet
+arisen.
+
+“Here we are,” he said.
+
+We came abreast of and passed a number of large barns and a long,
+one-storied stable of stone. The munching of hay and grain, the
+stamping of hoofs, and such usual sounds as come from a small army of
+horses housed for the night, struck my auricular sense as weird and
+untoward, so highly keyed were my nerves. I thought I could discern
+people moving about in the open spaces between the buildings, but save
+for the sounds made by the animals, everywhere was silence. A human
+voice, or even the barking of a dog would have afforded a degree of
+relief.
+
+Craighead preceding me, we soon passed a picketed enclosure, evidently
+the dog kennels. A man was housing the hounds. Farther along, we
+entered, through a gate, onto a white graveled walk which seemingly led
+us through an orchard, as I could make out the outline of trees while
+the perfumed emanations from ripe apples came to me soothingly.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+We stood before a doorway of dark wood, heavy but not pretentious, and
+showing some carving in the subdued light thrown by a lamp enclosed in
+glass and set into the heavy jamb on the left.
+
+The building seemed to be one-storied, and of stone. It stretched away
+on either side of the door into the night. I could not make even a
+guess as to its dimensions, but it loomed large in my imagination.
+
+“We are home,” Craighead said, throwing back the heavy oak door and
+holding it apparently with left arm outstretched and with head slightly
+bowed; a mute invitation to me to precede him across the portal of
+Craighead Hall.
+
+I stepped into what was evidently an upper reception hall, as directly
+in front of me was the top tread of a broad stairway. My host said in
+a quiet tone, “I have brought you in the nearest way,” closed the door
+and preceded me down the stair.
+
+I noted two things--the house was silent, and he did not lock the door.
+
+We descended a broad stairway with wide oak bannisters on either side,
+the lower steps flaring out to at least a dozen feet to the left of the
+center of a great audience hall. In front was a huge doorway, evidently
+the main entrance to the house. Small, diamond-shaped, leaded glass
+windows lined either side and the top of the massive two-leaved door;
+plain square cut-glass lighted lamps, presenting the appearance of
+vases, cast their glow to meet that of similar lamps on the staircase.
+Stretching away to the right was a table, its polished surface
+glistening as though alive, as far as my vision could penetrate in the
+subdued light thrown by a row of lamps set into the walls. Heavy black
+oak paneling went from polished floor to beamed ceiling, and apparently
+some fifteen to twenty feet away the dying embers of a wood fire in a
+mass of carving sent up little spurts of flame, throwing shadows back
+of beams that looked colossal. A medieval hall, lifted bodily from some
+old-world castle, an Elsinore, some Baron’s lair, where lolled and
+drank and quarreled, brutal but brave, a race of desperate men, happily
+long extinct.
+
+Rooted to the spot, I looked in amazement down the length of the
+polished table and the illusion was complete. Instantly there flashed
+over me the thought that I should witness the stately procession of
+flunkies in crimson and yellow preceding the Baron and his lady, or
+hear the measured tramp, tramp of the halberdiers as they filed in and
+took their places followed by the Lord of the Castle and his roistering
+friends.
+
+I felt Craighead’s fingers on my shoulder, heard his voice say as from
+a distance, so absorbed was I in these strange surroundings, “Pardon me
+a moment, will you step into the library? I must speak to my sister,”
+and he ran lightly up the stairs, leaving me bewildered.
+
+No word of any sister or other woman in this strange establishment
+had come to me or crossed my mind. I had turned toward the stair when
+addressed, and as Craighead disappeared, my brain sharply pictured my
+host as at best peculiar, perhaps more so than that word would express.
+
+The library--where was it?
+
+As though in reply to my mental query came a quiet, “The library, sir,”
+and I turned to find a man standing near me, who, certainly to my
+thinking, had arisen from nowhere, a man, indicating an open door at
+some distance to the right, as I faced the stairway.
+
+The man preceded me to the door, stood and bowed me through. He was
+dressed quietly in dark colored tweeds.
+
+Some friend of my host who would join me, I speculated, and was
+surprised to hear the door close without a word from him and to find
+myself alone in a large room, paneled like the hall in black oak. Two
+French windows at one end, a fireplace half-way down the wall opposite
+where I entered, a large screen at the farther end, a table or two,
+heavy chairs all about, a lounge and books, books from floor to ceiling
+and from end to end almost. Two large hunting scenes in oil covered a
+portion of one wall.
+
+No touch of woman’s softness was here. The lights, shaded to cast their
+full strength at certain points, served but to accentuate the severity
+of the room. It dawned on me, as I entered from the orchard, that this
+old-world building must sit on the side of a hill, that here, miles and
+miles from a railroad or access to any port--right here--was mystery,
+tragedy perhaps. A chill ran through me. One could fairly hear the
+silence of this mammoth house.
+
+I crossed to the window--its frame extended to the floor--drew aside
+a curtain, and was peering out onto a wide veranda. I started as
+though struck a blow as I heard my host say: “My sister presents her
+compliments and begs to be excused, Mr.----”
+
+“Montrose,” I replied, noting in my host an abstraction, an air of
+dejection, saddening and depressing beyond description. “Gordon
+Montrose; Scotch, as Scottish as your name, Craighead, would lead me
+to believe you, though your lineaments are not perhaps as Scotch as
+mine,” and to give the man opportunity to find himself, I rambled on,
+“I have all the romantic leaning of the Scot and let me add, all his
+curiosity, and this house, this palace hidden away in the wilds of
+Canada, certainly arouses my entire inheritance in that direction. I am
+delighted to have the privilege of being your guest for the night.”
+
+“I am glad indeed to have you here,” Craighead interposed before I
+could add that the strange surroundings into which my search for
+Hogarth had brought me added greatly to my desire for the story
+connecting the life of this young man with that of the sleeper just
+outside the little cemetery whose marble marking read “John Blank.”
+
+Craighead continued, “This certainly is a unique old place when one
+looks at the surroundings. My father was, shall we say, eccentric. He
+loved his home in Scotland and transplanted to this place of exile as
+much of the inside of his boyhood home as was possible, but the light
+of day will dispel many of your illusions. In the meantime, let us see
+what the chef has provided for us. You must be famished after such an
+unaccustomed amount of exercise,” adding, “City chaps, as I well know
+from experience, seldom get the exercise required by natural laws.”
+
+As we turned toward a table evidently hidden by a screen which had
+been silently spirited away, a door at the end of the room opened, as
+though in answer to the inquiry. A well-dressed man with nothing of the
+butler air, entered and lowering his eyes to the floor said, “Served,
+sir.”
+
+The dinner was everything to be desired. Mutton broth with barley,
+fish, roast partridge, everything well-cooked and served from a table
+behind the large screen by the man who had opened the library door.
+
+Seated across the table from my host I could not avoid noting as he
+directed the conversation to my work and away from himself that he was
+preoccupied, uneasy, I thought. He looked old and care-worn for a man
+evidently not much past thirty. My mind was not on our conversation,
+nor was his. I wished to ply him with questions, but there was a
+something in his face which forbade a crudity.
+
+Who were these silent serving men? Could they by any possibility be
+manumitted criminals? No, their mien gave the lie to any such thought,
+nor did they carry the subservient air of house servants.
+
+By what magic did our food find a resting place behind the screen at
+the end of the room? I mentally placed the kitchen at least eighty feet
+away on what I calculated was the west end of the building, beyond the
+great hall. The house must back into the solid hill on the north.
+
+What an eery place! What tragedy in the life of man or woman,
+especially one possessing ample means; for the entire inside finish
+of the house including furnishings and books by the thousand must
+have come across the Atlantic to this far-off spot, and this called
+for heavy expenditure of money! What state of mind could have induced
+isolation in this God-forsaken spot in the wilderness?
+
+All these thoughts crowded through my mind as we talked of affairs in
+the outside world, and back of it all was the desire for Craighead’s
+story.
+
+My ruminations were brought to a sudden stop. I found myself and my
+host standing. A panel in the apparently solid west wall of the room
+was open and framed an apparition, a picture in white, or was it a
+wonderfully beautiful girl just budding into young womanhood?
+
+I could not believe the picture animate until she spoke. The voice
+had that carrying quality, that slight terminative inflection and
+refinement characteristic of the cultured Englishwoman.
+
+Her eyes rested for a second on my face, then she turned to Craighead,
+her lips parted and I heard her say, “Pardon me, Hughie, I did not know
+that you had returned.”
+
+My host, showing embarrassment, took her hand, leading her to the
+table, saying, “Mr. Montrose, my sister, Elaine.”
+
+Inwardly I cursed my faltering tongue as it stammered something
+unintelligible. I was no callow youth, had met many beautiful
+women without embarrassment, but while heart and head made graceful
+acknowledgment of the honor, yes, even such response as would a Sir
+Galahad to the fair chatelaine of the castle in which he found himself
+a guest, my tongue was tied.
+
+I heard her, as from a great distance, say, “I trust you will be happy
+here, sir,” as she looked at me with interested sympathy, showing
+through dark sad eyes. Then turning to her brother she said, “I shall
+not intrude. I will have my dinner served upstairs.”
+
+Quickly as I recognized the mistake, Craighead forestalled me in
+thought. “Elaine, what a blunderer I am. Mr. Montrose is my friend,
+not one of our usual guests. He is engaged as we are, in helping
+unfortunates. Won’t you join us? We shall both be delighted to have
+our coffee and liqueur extended indefinitely for the pleasure of your
+company.”
+
+Gracefully the young lady came to me, offering her hand, and, as I
+bent over it, she said, “Mr. Montrose, may I also have the privilege
+of calling you friend? Hugh and I are so close, his friend is my
+friend.” And when she added to the little compliment a smile so
+innocent and winning, I felt that I had never before seen so beautiful
+a picture. She stood so slim and straight, delicate and refined, yes,
+over-refined, I thought, and yet there was lacking nothing in youthful
+vigor and confidence; as much a contradiction as her brother.
+
+I looked into her large questioning brown eyes as I assured her, in
+a reply registering not a little embarrassment, that I was honored,
+was fortunate, and sincerely trusted that in some way I should be
+brought to the test that I might demonstrate my appreciation of the
+honor. Rather an unusual, but sincere, declaration for me, a confirmed
+bachelor of almost thirty.
+
+As I seated her between Mr. Craighead and myself, I looked down on a
+wonderful mass of molten gold crowning a well-shaped head. As we talked
+seriously, or as the conversation touched on events in my country,
+stirring or portentous, the pupils of her eyes dilated, changing from
+brown to black, and the white hand in which the veins showed faintly,
+would noticeably tremble. She seemed so deadly in earnest and so
+interested in world affairs that one forgot her youth and gave to her
+expressed opinion a weight usually reserved for that of the more mature.
+
+Never did we touch on matters intimate to the Craighead private life. I
+found the young lady adroit in drawing me out, making as much a study
+of me as I of her, apparently. I learned that she and her brother had
+spent many years abroad, had never separated, and that there was a
+sister then abroad, also.
+
+The brother seemed uneasy, his eyes seldom left his sister’s face, and
+I wondered if he might not entertain a fear that the conversation would
+in some way revert to the request “to be excused” which she certainly
+had never made. I may not say that the thought left me wholly free of
+embarrassment. I was sorely puzzled, amazed at meeting here in such
+strange surroundings a lady, a mere girl, but with all the poise of the
+young woman of society, capable of discussing interestingly questions
+far beyond the sphere of the little Canadian principality which it
+seemed they seldom left.
+
+We were discussing the translation into Greek and Coptic of the
+writings of Moses, about 300 B. C. at the court of Ptolemy Philadelphus
+in Alexandria, Egypt. The brother who, I learned, held a Master’s
+degree from Edinburgh University, advanced the theory that Euclid,
+who was a dweller at Ptolemy’s court, had much to do with the cryptic
+figures in the Pentateuch; that the mystic numbers were his, and that
+the translation from the original by 72 Levites, each in a separate
+cell, in 72 days, into five books, Genesis to Deuteronomy, meant that
+the entire history of man, from the beginning, including all laws
+necessary for his guidance during the circle of life, was represented
+by Euclid in this way: the five books representing man’s senses, the
+circle of life 360 degrees formed by five times seventy-two.
+
+“A trick of Mr. Euclid’s,” Hugh was continuing, and I was thinking,
+“Here is a man who treats Holy Writ rather lightly,” and wondered
+to what subdivision of the Protestant church the brother and sister
+claimed affiliation, for I knew that the little edifice where I had met
+Craighead was not Catholic.
+
+I had been studying the brother’s face as he talked, when I was
+startled at seeing the sister suddenly straighten back in her chair,
+extend her right arm over the table with the little finger only resting
+thereon, the thumb and forefinger placed as though holding a pen or
+pencil.
+
+The evident rigidity of the arm and hand flashed over my mind’s eye. I
+looked into her face. To what could be attributed the terrible change
+that had taken place? A moment before a beautiful, vivacious girl,
+now a gray-faced woman. Beads of dew covered an ashen forehead. Her
+eyes looked through and past me. It seemed as though they pierced even
+the wall in the shadows at the far end of the room. She seemed to be
+listening.
+
+Involuntarily I placed my hand on hers. It was icy cold and moist.
+Speechless I arose, but before I could open my lips to tender an offer
+of aid, her brother who had not taken his gaze from his sister’s face
+nor moved, said in a low tone, “Please be seated. Do not touch her. My
+sister is subject to these seizures. It will pass in a little while.”
+
+Then she spoke, not to either of us, but as though addressing somebody
+present who had spoken to her.
+
+“Yes, yes, I’ll go. Yes, all right dear, though you are mistaken. He is
+Hugh’s friend and mine,” the last two words were hesitatingly uttered,
+as she quietly arose, turned and walked toward the west wall apparently
+unaware of the presence of either her brother or myself.
+
+Hugh preceded her and opened the panel through means, which my excited
+condition prevented my observing, and my hostess, my brilliant young
+chatelaine, passed from sight through the wall, without uttering a
+word, as though walking in a sleep.
+
+Hugh stood in the opening looking up.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+What an unfortunate family skeleton I had unwittingly intruded upon.
+Evidently this was a repetition. What possible ailment could in the
+flash of an eye transform an animated girl of twenty to an ashen-faced
+woman of forty? Why should the blood withdraw from hand and arm,
+presenting the chill of the dead, and yet fail to interfere with the
+sense of speech, of locomotion, yes, even of direction?
+
+I was puzzled, embarrassed.
+
+Hugh closed the panel and walked in silence back to the table,
+helplessness, sadness, the depths of pity written on his downcast face.
+
+I spoke first, “Mr. Craighead, we are both distressed. I have no desire
+to intrude. Doubtless you are needed. Please do not permit any mistaken
+sense of duty as a host to keep you from the side of your sister who
+sorely needs assistance. May I be shown to my room?”
+
+Craighead reached out his hand to meet mine; ensued a clasp which in
+the extremely tense situation meant more than months of association;
+he at least had made a friend.
+
+Disregarding my protest, my host preceded me upstairs and ushering me
+into a spacious room, said, “Shall see you in the morning. We have no
+hours here, the sun will awaken you. Good night.” He turned, closed the
+door, and was gone.
+
+Night clothes, neatly folded, spread on the snow-white bed coverlet,
+every convenience of refined bachelorhood in the great city whence I
+had come, was here in this remote part of demi-civilization. I had
+brought no baggage from the village.
+
+Alone, not a sound in the big place. I speculated on the strangeness
+of things, wished for day that I might get my bearings, mental and
+otherwise.
+
+In time I slept, nor did I dream in that unconscious period in which
+the battery of what is termed life receives its regular charge from
+nature’s dynamo, without which charge the house of the soul would
+become uninhabitable. In the twilight of sleep, when the subconscious
+was dominant, I failed to realize in this house of mystery anything
+more than a strange, eerie sense of the unusual, not the unreal.
+
+I slept late, and had just finished dressing when the serving man of
+the evening entered with breakfast on a tray.
+
+Was I spied upon? I had bathed and dressed quietly, had not given any
+signal, yet there was a silent man with breakfast. A mysterious house,
+certainly, a peculiar host and hostess. I thought while dressing of the
+embarrassment of meeting Hugh and inquiring about his sister.
+
+The servant, in silence, after a grave “good morning,” threw open the
+double French windows letting in the sunlight of a warm September
+morning, and retired.
+
+It was about ten o’clock when I walked out onto a broad upper veranda
+and made my first daylight survey of the surroundings.
+
+A broad river, almost a lake, I thought at least two miles wide. Away
+up to my right as I faced it. The bay narrowed or was partially closed
+by islands and to my left it stretched away to where vision was cut off
+by trees. Across was evidently an island, as I could see water pretty
+well back through the stumps of dead trees running from both its east
+and west points. Immediately in front of the house, two rows of solemn
+Lombardy poplars lined on east and west a broad graveled walk, running
+down to a pretentious boathouse and pier. Back of the poplars were two
+trellised rows of wild grape and wisteria vines. Hedges of clipped
+cedar lined a driveway to the beach at the right, and spruce and cedar
+thickets seemed to extend away up the shore line. An apple orchard to
+my left stretched over a rise in the ground out of my range of vision
+around the east end of the house.
+
+A perfect Canadian September day. A melodious voice floated up to me,
+“Come down and help me pick apples.”
+
+“Coming,” and I was down a stairway at the east end of the veranda
+wondering what other young lady the place housed, for surely the voice
+was feminine and as surely young. Thought of meeting my young hostess
+after last night never entered my head. She was as something a thousand
+miles removed from the commonplace of apple-picking.
+
+It was my hostess--radiant, smiling through eyes of ebullient youth
+from a perch at least ten feet from the ground in the crotch of an
+immense apple tree. Thank God, my vision of the gray-faced woman of
+last night was dispelled. She became dissociated from Hugh’s sister.
+Had the afflicted sister even existed?
+
+“Good morning, Mr. Montrose,” was Elaine’s greeting. “You got up just
+in time to help me. This is my own tree, you see. Every apple on it is
+a graftling, and I always pick them myself before the men begin.”
+
+I felt at home at once. I picked apples, packed apples in baskets,
+apples, the names of which I had never before heard, all growing on one
+immense tree, “all through the labor of love of her father,” I was told.
+
+Her father died before she was born. Hugh had gone to the county seat
+to appear in court. My luggage at the hotel had been sent for. I was to
+be Hughie’s guest here “until I tired of the place--and the society,”
+the last with just a little of that arch look which lets down bars ever
+so slightly and denies while it invites an adequate response. All so
+cheerfully and with such an air of certainty of herself, imparted from
+above and accepted by me as natural and conclusive.
+
+I marveled at the man, Montrose, staid bachelor, lawyer, man of affairs
+on a serious mission, hypnotized, actually carried away by the charm
+of a young girl; or was it the unusual in the situation that made me
+forget everything but the moment and give myself up wholly to enjoyment
+of an unusual girl’s vivacity and sweetness.
+
+A ripple of silvery laughter as an apple dropped several feet onto my
+uncovered head.
+
+“Help me down; I could not resist the temptation. It was the last on
+the tree,” came the laughing voice.
+
+“Eve was more considerate. She did not risk killing him,” I called back.
+
+“Yes,” she replied, “but you know men were scarce then,” as two
+small high boots slid down along the bole of the tree followed by
+knickerbockered limbs, a white blouse and light blue flannel coat. Then
+with “coming!” she swung out onto a lower limb and dropped gracefully
+into my extended arms.
+
+Just for the fraction of a moment I held her, for so brief an instant
+that she could not possibly have noted an intent and yet, frankly,
+there was intent. That was a moment of ecstasy, just to feel her lithe
+body resting against mine, to sense the innocence, the trust. Surely I
+was not in love! Did not life hold to sterner things?
+
+Was it the exertion, did the feminine sense catch the thrill of the
+moment of which I thought only God and I had knowledge? What was it
+that suffused her cheek and caused her to lower her eyes from mine
+which had sought them?
+
+“Thank you,” was the commonplace that brought back my truant senses.
+“Shall we walk down to the river? There are twelve baskets full,” she
+added.
+
+“And it is quite appropriate that we seek the two small fishes,” I
+remarked as we walked shoreward between the poplars.
+
+“That was a wonderful allegory, the loaves and fishes,” Elaine replied.
+
+“Allegory?” I queried. “I read it as a happening.”
+
+Laughingly she said, “You must have an orthodox soul, and I am just in
+the mood to shock it with a sensible interpretation of that miracle.”
+“You wouldn’t shock me at all; it would be interesting, even if a bit
+sacrilegious,” I replied and with a side glance at me she said: “Well,
+then, I’ll take the risk.”
+
+“The fishes, you know, were to the new sect a symbol, representing the
+all, beginning and end, life and death. The five loaves represent the
+five senses. The Master’s sermon was the mental food of the multitude,
+and the twelve baskets full of bread that remained were the teachings
+that they carried home in their hearts, so that they might have enough
+food for all their lives; twelve baskets full, because in the circle of
+the Zodiac there are twelve signs or houses.”
+
+As I listened to this modern interpretation of one of the mysteries of
+my religion, trepidation seized me. Were we not discussing biblical
+matters last night when the awful change took place in this young lady?
+I looked anxious; perhaps I showed my anxiety too plainly, for as she
+ceased speaking and just as we reached a bench on the pier, she looked
+into my eyes and exclaimed, “Oh, I am afraid I have shocked you. You
+mustn’t take it to heart, Mr. Montrose. You see we live a very solitary
+life here, my brother and I. Visitors are rare, and Hugh is often away.
+So I turn to books for companionship, and more frequently than not find
+myself disagreeing with the writers. It’s good mental exercise, but
+rather doubtful as social training. All the same, I love it--the woods
+and the river and the solitude. I wouldn’t leave it even to return to
+Scotland, or to--”
+
+She broke off suddenly, jumped up from the pier bench and started on a
+run toward the house, calling back to me, “Hugh is home, something must
+have happened.”
+
+I followed her up the walk, catching a glimpse of her as she
+disappeared through the front door.
+
+I walked leisurely out to the big apple tree and found a man whom I
+had not previously seen carrying away the apple baskets. Volunteering
+help, I took a couple of baskets and followed the man through a door in
+the cliff side, close to the east wall of the house. We passed several
+open doors on our right. They were the openings to vaults for different
+kinds of fruit and vegetables.
+
+Halting at the fifth opening, which had a huge door swung wide, I
+entered and put my baskets alongside of the workman’s. The room,
+apparently fifteen feet wide, was long. Many boxes bound with iron
+straps were neatly arranged on one side of the room and in the far end
+where the shadows were not penetrated by the light of the single lamp,
+I could dimly see the outline of another door, closed.
+
+“Where does that door lead to?” I asked.
+
+“I do not know, sir,” the man replied, “I have never seen it open. Mr.
+Craighead carries the keys.”
+
+“Hello, Montrose, has sister pressed the lawyer into service?” came
+a greeting from Hugh who was standing in the doorway. We shook hands;
+he asked the man if Miss Craighead’s apples were all in, receiving an
+affirmative reply, closed and locked the door, suggesting that we smoke
+on the veranda while the day was still warm.
+
+Craighead explained that he had received a message at the village,
+enabling him to return so early, but gave no further information.
+He seemed worried, evidently feeling that he owed some kind of an
+explanation as to Elaine’s ailment.
+
+As we rested comfortably, our eyes not meeting, both gazing out over
+the bay, I could see beads of sweat on his face and hands. I reached
+over, laying my hand on his, saying, “Can I do anything for you? I
+would like to be a good friend; there is something worrying you.”
+
+“Yes,” he replied, “I am at my wit’s end. You saw my sister’s serious
+condition last night; a recurrence, yes, fear for her life or worse,
+her sanity, keeps me always most anxious. God only knows how it will
+end if we do not have help.”
+
+“You have taken me into your confidence a little way,” I urged. “Tell
+me what the doctors say; how did it set up in the first place; what is
+the disease?”
+
+Craighead looked at me, then said, “My friend, you would not understand
+should I name the trouble. Our history is a peculiar one, some time I
+shall tell it to you. Elaine’s trouble dates away back to childhood;
+perhaps back of that,” and Craighead paused.
+
+I did not understand fully, but a shudder passed over me as I thought
+of epilepsy, congenital tendency toward insanity, a terrible heritage
+for this lovable girl. My horror must have shown on my face, for Hugh
+hastened to say, “Not that, not insanity. I shall tell you the story
+from the beginning. The day is before us. Elaine has gone out with the
+hounds, we shall not be interrupted.
+
+“It is not a pleasant story, that of the Craigheads. You wished to know
+John Blank’s history. They are closely knitted. In telling one, you
+will hear the other.”
+
+“Please begin at the beginning. I am interested in every detail.”
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Leaning back in his chair, with unseeing eyes cast upward, Craighead
+paused so long that I feared his mind had altered; then drawing his
+hand across his forehead as though wiping away some vision, his entire
+expression changed. He commenced as though still a boy.
+
+“This entire estate was even more on the outskirts of civilization when
+I was a boy than it is now. The village has grown, but it is still ten
+miles away. We had few neighbors, only one east of us, two miles or
+more away, through a black ash swamp, impassable even yet except when
+the river is very low, then difficult. To my knowledge, there was no
+communication between this neighbor, John Blank, and my family. Blank
+was a sort of myth to us, never seen, only reputed living down the
+‘back channel.’
+
+“Father was a strange man, silent, austere; my sister, the one in
+Scotland, Alix, and I were in awe of him, but only on account of his
+austerity. I thought, even at thirteen, that this was a queer place
+for a rich man to make a home, and wondered why a man of education and
+refinement should hide a wife, and a beautiful wife my mother was, away
+in this God-forsaken part of the world and bring my sister and myself
+up without girls and boys of our age to play with.
+
+“I asked mother, but she requested me never to refer to the subject
+again. We children went to the red school you saw a mile beyond the
+little church, when weather permitted our being carried there in a
+buckboard, and we were tutored by our mother.
+
+“Alix was two years my senior, very bright and a good pianist. I passed
+the high school examination at twelve years of age, but because of
+a body too frail, was not permitted to enter preparatory school as
+planned, with McGill and the profession of doctor as the ultimate. To
+this illness was due my meeting John Blank, the mythical, never visible
+but reputed at school a dangerous character, an ogre, without ears and
+with hoofs where his hands should have been.
+
+“In my wanderings through the dense woods that hemmed in Craighead
+Hall, as my father named this house, coming much closer then than now
+and stretching for miles around, I found in the border of the swamp
+a small knoll covered with beech trees at the summit, and completely
+hedged about with stunted spruce and cedar; a creek winding around
+almost the entire base. Here I secretly built a leafy bower, a little
+house, and almost daily from spring to fall I took a book and crossing
+nearly a mile of forest reveled in the romantic _Childe Harold’s
+Pilgrimage_, _Lalla Rookh_, _The Deformed Transformed_; the poets and
+the poetic my sole and beloved companions, and chameleon-like, I became
+the hero of every song and story.
+
+“The one disturbing thought assailing me, now and then becoming a
+haunting fear, was that I might some day meet John Blank. Neurotic, I
+feared that to see him meant death from terror and my retreat was on an
+upper reach of Blank’s creek.
+
+“One day the woes of _Little Dorrit_ having aroused in me such a
+feeling of resentment against her oppressors and such a flood of
+sympathy that I was blinded by tears, I was startled to see standing
+before me in actual life, John Blank the dreaded. He had no ears--that
+registered, and as expected, I faded, died, just as my school
+companions predicted.”
+
+As Craighead said this preposterous thing and paused, I looked at
+him sharply, questioning his sanity, but he was absorbed in the
+recollection, was a boy again and resumed as though the thing had just
+then transpired.
+
+“Yes,” Craighead continued, “I died, but the resurrection did not wait
+on Old Gabriel.
+
+“Where was I? Snow-white linen, four posts of red cedar roughly
+hand-carved, a lamp, lighted but turned low, sat on a dresser near
+at hand. I can see the room now, painted a light blue. I was in bed,
+evidently not home, for we had no such room as this, and the aroma of
+roast duck came temptingly over the half partition beyond which I could
+hear somebody walking. I coughed involuntarily and sat up alarmed when
+the door opened and a not unkind but stern-faced woman about as old as
+my mother, I reflected, looked anxiously at me, saying,
+
+“‘Thanks to the good God, he’s alive. He will eat supper with us; then
+John, you must take the lad home; it is the only thing to do.’
+
+“At mention of John came an instantaneous mental picture, a queer
+fluttering in my chest and I fell back on the pillow.
+
+“A deep-toned voice came over the partition, ‘How is the lad, Margie?’
+
+“There was in the voice a tone of sadness indescribable, yet I had
+heard that tone sometimes in the very minor chord struck by sister Alix
+when she was blue, always when I was having one of my bad coughing
+days. Byron would have analyzed the note was my thought. Was I not
+Byron only yesterday? I did analyze it and properly. Here was no ogre,
+but kindness, refinement, great sadness, and the inner sense even of
+precocious, adolescent, undernurtured youth reassured me, told me there
+was nothing here to fear; told me that the earless head was living
+death, tragedy to this man as was his deformity to that other who wrote
+_The Deformed Transformed_, my hero Byron, and fear flew out of the
+window.
+
+“Tenderly and without offense to the exaggerated modesty of youth, the
+woman dressed me, took my hand and led me through the door, partially
+screening with her person the man. He stood as though in deep thought,
+head bowed, arms locked behind, leaning a little forward as though
+seeing something through the windows, where my gaze followed across
+a clearing, along rows of currant bushes down to an impenetrable
+swamp a few rods away, and growing dark in the fading twilight. I
+saw it all, and the three-quarter moon, and strange to say, even yet
+I fail to comprehend just why my immediate thoughts dwelt on these
+inconsequential things rather than on the man who had shocked me into a
+faint.
+
+“Then he extended his right hand, a flash at his face, a mental
+measurement of his stature with my father as the yard stick, six feet
+tall; my mind went blank for an instant. Here was no hand nor hoofs,
+only a pitiable, misshapen thing. All the fingers had been severed
+midway of the third phalanges. What an awful, unsightly thing, a thumb
+and four gross misshapen stubs in contact with my soft hand which had
+never known physical labor like that of other boys! I coughed, and the
+old weak feeling made me reel.
+
+“The man caught me in his arms and groaned, rather than said, ‘Oh, God,
+it can never be,’ then, still holding my face against his body, ‘Son,
+do not be afraid of me. I am deformed, but only in body. My ears and
+fingers, they cut them off, but they couldn’t destroy the will nor my
+heart. Son, it beats just like your father’s; let us be friends. My
+God, my lot is hard,’ and then he held me off and in a harsher voice
+said ‘Look at me. Once I was as other men. Men did this to me.’
+
+“A more terrifying sight for a boy never was presented. The face was
+scarred and lined, but the head was well-shaped and surmounted a strong
+athletic-looking body, but the pity of it--the lack of the accustomed
+semicircular protuberances on either side with scars marking each
+cheek from chin to temple and from nose bridge to jaw hinge, gave to
+the picture a terrifying, rather than a disgusting appearance. Without
+ears it would not have been so bad; the thick iron-gray bunch of hair
+growing low near the temples relieved the impression to some extent,
+but the scars, crosses carried by this man, not from the temple of
+justice to Golgotha, but throughout a lifetime until obliterated
+by post-mortem putrefaction! Ugh! They give me a chill yet! They
+brutalized an otherwise kindly, handsome face.
+
+“It was the eyes that saved the day, fearless, determined yet kindly
+brown eyes through which a man’s soul was shining. My terror was gone,
+I grasped the stumpy hand, felt drawn to the man, clasped him about
+the waist and wept. He held me close for a time and I could feel his
+body racked by sobs. The woman put an arm around me, saying, ‘Supper is
+ready,’ and led me to the table.
+
+“I never ate much, nor talked during meals; was taught that it was
+unbecoming in youth to converse before elders, but while I then ate
+sparingly and at first with a lump in my throat, I was so drawn out by
+Blank’s quiet questioning that I was soon telling all about my family,
+all I knew. Especially that mother, while always appearing sad was
+apparently happy, and in reply to the direct question, said I, was
+awfully fond of father and mother as they would wander away together
+and sit on our veranda alone for hours.
+
+“I asked Blank if he knew why father with all his money (I had seen in
+the back vault a trunk full of gold pieces) settled here in the woods,
+and there was such a peculiar look in Blank’s eyes when he disclaimed
+any knowledge of the reason, that I wondered if he did not know more
+about our family than he was willing to disclose to me. He asked many
+questions about Alix and I thought I sensed in him a sort of yearning.
+Perhaps it was only because he had no children or had lost a daughter.
+I was not a dullard. The very seclusion of our household, father’s
+peculiar reserve and keenness seemed to have permeated; both Alix and I
+were observing youths.
+
+“Nine o’clock, and it suddenly dawned on me that my family would be
+anxious, perhaps hunting for me, though I had stayed as late once when
+I went to sleep in my retreat. Father would go out to the woods, atop
+the burnt hill, as we called it because once swept by a forest fire.
+Father found me there one day, reading Voltaire’s _La Pucelle_, a
+forbidden book and locked away thereafter.
+
+“Nobody knew of my bower in the creek’s embrace, or the joy I found
+in the music of the rippling water, the song of the birds and the
+whispering of the beech leaves. They all talked to me, never in words,
+but it seemed as though souls released from the body were trying to
+tell me the secrets of a hereafter. These friends knew my friends Byron
+and Shelley and many others, but not Voltaire, so I took him to the
+wood on the hill.
+
+“Blank took a lantern and led me by the hand down the lane between
+currant bushes right into the land of mystery, the impenetrable
+vine-tangled moss-hung swamp. I was surprised to find two logs laid
+lengthwise, flattened atop, on which we walked, the vines closing
+overhead. For a quarter of a mile or so we walked on such logs. The way
+led through tall rushes, then shallow water smothered in wild rice, a
+dismal pathway to freedom.
+
+“Reeds and rice cradled a canoe well hidden. It was of red cedar and
+smooth as glass. A shove out and soon reeds and rice were left behind.
+Water-killed ash trees gave place to water-lily pads and soon we were
+in open water.
+
+“We were in the back waters of the great river but nearly two miles
+from the main stream, or bay. Blank paddled in silence, seemed sad or
+moody. I remember feeling that I was putting him to a great deal of
+trouble.
+
+“Almost at our landing, a good four miles, Blank spoke, ‘Son, it is
+better to lie a little sometimes than make others suffer. As you have
+expressed gratitude to me, give me your promise that you will not say
+one word about meeting me or going to my home--not to a living soul! I
+have my reasons and know that you will respect them if you promise.’
+
+“I promised. I would have promised that man anything and I would have
+kept faith--strange how chivalrous the age, thirteen, is in certain
+types. Wild horses could not have drawn out the truth as to where I
+spent that evening. I was ready to invent any story, take any censure.
+Neither father nor mother ever punished, only chided, but that method
+of correction had for me a bitter sting.”
+
+Hugh arose without a word from me; he was right back to that night.
+Leaning over the heavy railing enclosing the front veranda he drew his
+hand across his eyes as I had observed was his habit when trying to
+arouse himself and said, “Let us walk.”
+
+As we walked toward the river between the poplars, without preliminary,
+just as though he had not interrupted his story, Hugh, pointing to the
+left, said,
+
+“Blank kissed me on the brow, jumped into the canoe, and pushed out
+into the river. My father had never caressed me; mother often. I
+remember that while it embarrassed, the act further endeared Blank to
+me, he seemed so lonesome.
+
+“I circled up there through the orchard instead of taking the path,
+tiptoed up the east veranda stairs, pushed open the window of my room,
+the corner one next to yours, and after marveling that the house was so
+quiet, prepared to say that I had returned home early, fallen asleep in
+the orchard and had just awakened.
+
+“True, the housekeeper was worried over my absence but not unduly,
+however, as she was a rather placid specimen. I simply said to her that
+I was not feeling well when I returned, so did not wish dinner, her
+chief concern being that it was ‘cold.’
+
+“My parents and Alix had gone to the village and had not yet returned.
+Soon they came in the front way; father was always so particular in
+matters of form and deportment. I think he was endeavoring to teach
+his children through example.
+
+“Father said to me, ‘You look fatigued; what have you been doing?’
+
+“‘Reading, sir,’ I replied.
+
+“‘Then go to bed,’ was his order, kindly given.
+
+“Alix had been led upstairs by the maid. I sorely wished to talk with
+her, as I sensed something amiss from the strained look on the faces of
+my parents.
+
+“Mother said,
+
+“‘Kiss me good night, my darling boy,’ took me in her arms and crying
+silently held me close, while she kissed me fervently.
+
+“I noticed a package of papers, one from Glasgow, with a fat letter
+with foreign postmark, which father had placed on the big table.
+Connecting these unusual things with father’s abrupt manner and
+mother’s tears, living over again the events of the evening, seeing
+Blank’s awful deformity, as though he stood beside my bed, I finally
+dozed off, sick at heart for the first time in my young life.
+
+“In the morning I went early to Alix’s room but she knew nothing,
+though she told me all about the marvels of Valleyford, its high
+buildings, some three stories higher by one than Craighead Hall,
+and neither of us was prepared for the shock when, noonday luncheon
+disposed of, father suddenly said, ‘Children, your grandfather, my
+father, in Scotland, is dead. Died a month ago. I am his only heir.
+That means I inherit his property. I must start for Glasgow tomorrow.
+The property is nothing to me, God knows, but I must save it for you
+two bairns; mother may go with me. If she does, you must mind Mr.
+Hallowed, children, just as you would me. Hugh, you must give up your
+rambling in the woods. You are old enough to know the danger of being
+attacked by bears and lynx and timber wolves are thick this autumn.’
+
+“We promised. I do not think we realized in the slightest that our
+parents were going away.”
+
+At this point in his story, Craighead paused as though the recollection
+of the events of that long past day pained him immeasurably, turned his
+back to me by squaring around on the bench on the pier on which we had
+been resting, then resumed:
+
+“I am telling you these details with a purpose, Montrose; it will
+disclose itself in time. These were almost the parting words of my
+father, at least his last advice to me. He never returned from Scotland.
+
+“Mother refused to permit him to go alone. Heartsick at leaving her
+children even for a couple of months, she felt a duty to father, he
+seemed so strong yet so unfitted to go without her.
+
+“They drove away, their luggage one small leather trunk which father
+brought from the inner vault. I held open the great stone door which
+swung back and up so that when opened against the wall it took all my
+strength to keep it from slamming shut. The staple for the hook meant
+to hold it open had loosened in the stone and father cautioned me not
+to trust it, but to brace myself against the open slab until he put
+some papers into the trunk.
+
+“I noticed that he locked the box from which he took the papers, that
+there were ribbons and big seals on the documents in his hands and that
+he was excited, if such a word may be applied to the condition of a man
+who was always calm. The big door fastened with a spring lock.
+
+“When I returned here five years ago, I tried every key, but could not
+unlock this vault. Some day I shall have a locksmith in and see what is
+in the boxes. I have put this off because of the sad memories stirred
+when I go into even the outer room where Elaine stores her apples.
+
+“Letters came; February, the long winter passed; there was a hitch
+in the estate’s settlement, Mother was not ill, but could not return
+alone, expressed much yearning for her children. From Father,
+admonitions as to health and conduct, directions to be relayed to John
+Hallowed, the foreman in charge, who watched the two of us like a hawk,
+even to seeing that we were safely tucked in nights, and I am afraid
+we led him a merry chase that winter, for youth’s natural trend is
+to be happy, and happiness in children means pranks and adventuring,
+distressing to elders in charge, especially such elders as old John,
+who felt a peculiar responsibility as our guardian.
+
+“In time, I confided to Alix my great adventure in the black ash
+swamp and we wove many a weird fiction about his life, but not even
+the wildest of our imaginings came within a thousand miles of the
+awfulness of the truth. You shall hear his story in good season. I am
+leading up to it, I cannot tell it. You must see for yourself. Today
+the whole strange thing would be unbelievable to you who know us as yet
+so slightly. You must stay with us this fall, Montrose,” Hugh added,
+and I replied, thanking him, “that I had a whole month, if he and Miss
+Craighead would not tire of me.”
+
+Resuming the thread of his story, Hugh said, “Our summons came in
+August. We had become accustomed to the Hallowed regime and there had
+grown in our young hearts the spirit of content. Gradually during
+the months there had crept upon us the feeling that our parents had
+gone on and on out through the wood which I had through tears watched
+them enter; the picture of both grew dim though Mother’s dear face
+came frequently into my thoughts. I wonder if the painful love in the
+hearts of all young people is not perhaps very much intensified through
+propinquity.
+
+“One evening we were here on this pier and about to go for a swim when
+we noticed a canoe put straight out from Verde Island, that strip of
+green right opposite,” and Hugh pointed. “Two men were in the canoe,
+one paddling. The swim was postponed.
+
+“We speculated as to the canoe’s occupants, with many a pleasant
+anticipation, as a stranger at Craighead Hall was always an adventure
+for us children, old John Hallowed not being overly inclined socially.
+
+“The canoe pulled in right alongside the pier. The passenger was a
+stranger, a well-dressed man, I judged about twenty-five to thirty
+years of age, the paddler Big Beaver, an Indian who lived on the island
+from whom father bought furs for rugs and coats. Beaver was our friend.
+We had often paddled our canoes over to his house, a half dugout in the
+side of a knoll; he had permitted us to dig for arrowheads and flint
+axes in the old Indian burying ground on his island.
+
+“We greeted him joyously and his reply was a characteristic ‘Huh,’ but
+he left out his usual ‘Huh, papooses.’
+
+“The stranger, carefully, with a hand on the pier, I noted, thinking
+how awkwardly he got out of a canoe, stood and stiffly bowed to Alix,
+saying, ‘Is this Miss Alix Craighead whom I am addressing?’
+
+“My sister made a little bow and the stranger continued his accent
+marking his nativity as Scotch, ‘McFarlane, Miss Craighead. I would
+speak with you and Mr. Hallowed. I come from your mother in Glasgow.’
+
+“I was awestruck with his solemnity. Alix, deathly pale, with a finer
+sensibility or as she told me later, a premonition of evil things,
+asked me to run up to the barn and bring Mr. Hallowed to the library.
+Before I left the pier, I saw the stranger take a large sealed envelope
+from an inner pocket of his coat, heard Alix ask Beaver to stay for
+dinner, heard his short ‘No,’ as he pushed back with his paddle,
+shooting his canoe out into the stream, and when I looked back, Alix,
+with bosom rising and falling as though in great excitement, was
+holding the letter out in both hands evidently reading it.
+
+“I found Hallowed dining with the men in the room west of the kitchen,
+and took him to the library. Alix and Mr. McFarlane were just entering
+the house, she dry-eyed but sad. Hallowed asked me to go back to where
+the men were, get Keith and help him take some horses back to a remote
+pasture. Pride in being of assistance on the farm, fatigue after the
+exertion of riding a mile and leading a horse sent me willingly to bed
+after an explanation from Hallowed who met me at the upstairs door,
+that Alix was asleep, the stranger fatigued, consequently it was not
+until next morning that I received my shock.
+
+“An unusual thing, Alix bringing my breakfast on a tray. While I
+breakfasted, she laid out my best wearing apparel and stacked a full
+wardrobe on my bed. I asked if the Scotchman was royalty before whom I
+had to dress up, and she answered evasively.
+
+“When I was ready to go out and not until then did she tell me.
+
+“‘Our father has fallen from a horse and was seriously injured.’
+
+“I felt no shock. Had I not seen a man’s leg broken when a tree fell on
+him? He was working as usual today.
+
+“After a pause Alix said, ‘Father has passed away.’
+
+“The grief of a child is poignant. Stunned, scarcely comprehending,
+mine was twofold. The thought that I should never see father again and
+the pity I had for Alix, who at last gave full sway to evidences of
+the pangs of a stronger nature than mine, up to that time suppressed,
+made me most miserable. But the little lady who had, since my parents
+went away, assumed the role of mother protector to her younger brother,
+soon dried her tears and mine, saying that we still had mother and must
+hurry to her. That was the reason for the coming of McFarlane. We were
+to travel with him to Scotland.
+
+“In the early morning of life, nature is more kind to her children than
+during the midday or the afternoon; in an hour my mind was full of our
+imminent departure from the only home I had ever known and my heart was
+aflutter with the excitement of the adventure.
+
+“We left Craighead Hall before noon. Hallowed and his first assistant
+foreman, Keith, rowed us over to Verde Island, old Big Beaver made a
+silent sixth; as we anticipated bringing mother back right away we
+proposed leaving a boat on the island.
+
+“There is a mile of swamp back of the island, under water in the
+spring, but then dry. At the first house, that of a Mr. Murray,
+standing where the mainland is reached, where Mr. McFarlane had left a
+carriage seating six, we had luncheon.
+
+“I remember thinking about McFarlane’s extravagance, keeping a man and
+a team a whole day. The man surely was a sport for a Scotchman, and I
+began to admire him.
+
+“Hallowed was quite a talented man who had served grandfather before
+accompanying father across the ocean. I respected him, obeyed his
+instructions always. I knew that he was in father’s confidence, held
+almost as an equal, yet when he lifted Alix in his arms, held her close
+for a moment and kissed her, I was shocked. He turned to me, placing a
+hand on each of my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake saying, ‘Hugh
+Craighead, ye are head of the Craighead clan now. Show by being a man
+that ye be worthy the honor,’ and turned away, tears glistening on his
+cheeks.
+
+“I never saw the faithful old retainer again. He died before we
+returned to the Hall. His body lies over there on the burnt hill, where
+if he ever visits his grave he may overlook the demesne in which he had
+as much pride as the owner.
+
+“We drove over dubious roads for hours. It was dark when we reached the
+railroad station. I had never consciously seen a railroad; was a baby
+when brought across the ocean.
+
+“Alix stood firm and calm with a hand on McFarlane’s arm as a great
+shaft of light swept the station platform on which we stood, while I
+cowered back against the station wall, terrified as the fearsome thing
+with a grinding noise, a great clanking of iron and hissing of steam
+passed us and the long line of coaches came to a stop. The thing seemed
+in pain, or in a fury; it breathed, to that boy of the backwoods, just
+like a monstrous animal, annoyed at being stopped in its mad journey
+through the night.
+
+“I was still trying to get a good look at the mastodon as Alix, pulling
+me by the hand, mounted to the third car, following on the heels of
+McFarlane. Then we walked back inside to the rear coach.
+
+“How trivialities fasten themselves in the young mind! I was worried, I
+recollect, that two strange boys, not much taller than I, should pick
+up our treasured bags and those of Mr. McFarlane and run down the
+station platform. I called to McFarlane to stop them, but he laughed,
+saying,
+
+“‘It’s all richt, come along,’ and there were the bags and the two
+boys when we took our seats. It staggered me to see McFarlane pass a
+glittering shilling to each of the boys; profligate, I thought.”
+
+“Truants! At last I have found you,” came cheerful, bell-like, Elaine’s
+voice through the fringe of cedars to the left of the landing.
+
+A particularly vicious-looking bloodhound bounded in the open onto the
+sand, followed by the young lady, holding a leash.
+
+“Luncheon is over-ready, gentlemen,” and she pulled the beast back from
+my uncomfortable heel which seemed to interest him inordinately and
+laughed into my eyes as she said,
+
+“Now you cannot get away, Mr. Montrose. Lucifer has your picture, your
+measure,” and then addressing her brother, “Hughie, a messenger from
+the village has been waiting an hour with a letter which he would not
+entrust even to me.”
+
+Hugh hurried up the avenue while Elaine and I walked over toward the
+larger roadway, she saying that we must take Lucifer back to his mates.
+
+“Has each dog a name?” I asked, looking at the powerful brute walking
+ahead of us.
+
+“Yes,” Elaine answered, laughingly, “Some of them two. The pack leader
+is Julius Caesar, not turned to clay, I assure you, though I think he
+would keep almost anything away should it see him first.”
+
+“Is he a reincarnation?” I joked.
+
+Apparently seriously, she said, “Yes, dogs, like all other things, are
+born and reborn, just like humans, but always in their own line of
+vibration.”
+
+“So you think that this Julius Caesar, this dog, may be a reincarnation
+of the great Caesar?” I asked lightly, unable to determine whether or
+not she was serious.
+
+“Stupid! Of course not,” she shot back. “Dogs come back as dogs, birds
+as birds and man always as man. But the Caesar who conquered the world
+had lived many lives and crossed many Rubicons before he sent that
+historic message to Rome. Consider what a man he was--even if we don’t
+quite approve of him. Isn’t reincarnation the only logical explanation
+of such a product?”
+
+“Some day, Miss Elaine,” I ventured, “I would like to have you
+explain your theory of evolution as applied to the human soul. I am
+in earnest,” I added, as she gave me a quizzical glance. “The idea of
+the creation of the body from the earth and the breathing into it of
+life by the Omnipotent has always been accepted and I have not reasoned
+further.”
+
+Elaine gave me such a serio-comic pitying look, laughingly adding, “You
+dear old innocent. Once I thought too that we came ready-made from the
+hands of a Creator, mind and soul and body, but--” and she hesitated,
+“some day you shall have the evidence that man as he wills creates
+himself. I wish for Hugh’s sake and my own that we could confide in
+you. You would then at least understand matters better.”
+
+Her face had become serious, even sorrowful-looking as she talked and I
+was glad that Hugh interrupted just then.
+
+He came out the garden way as we approached the kennels and announced
+that he must go at once to the village and might be gone several days.
+As the carriage drove up, he kissed his sister, then turned to me and
+while holding my hand, said, “My friend, I am going to ask you to look
+after my little sister during my absence.”
+
+I ascended right then to the seventh heaven.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+The river was a sheet of glass that afternoon. Elaine suggested that we
+take the punt, a broad flat-bottomed, square-ended boat, and go out and
+spear garfish, schools of which were sunning their backs above water.
+She was quick and accurate in handling the three-tined spear and pulled
+in two for my one. The camaraderie engendered in this hour of sport,
+“ridding the river of a pest,” as Elaine put it, completely broke down
+the timidity which I must confess possessed me while with Elaine, ever
+since that first episode while dining with Hugh.
+
+It was about three o’clock and we were working fast when a bell atop
+a barn on the hill back of the house, but in plain view to us, began
+to ring vociferously. Elaine in the front of the boat, spear held
+crosswise in both hands, turned facing me, a strange look of fear or
+horror pictured in her great brown eyes.
+
+“Another unfortunate,” she said as though speaking to herself, “and
+Hugh is away.” Quickly she put out the oars, motioning me back as I
+stepped forward to take them from her. I asked her what the bell meant,
+but she made no answer.
+
+I perforce merely steered the boat, while I watched the group of
+buildings, expecting to see a fire break out. Not until we were on the
+pier did Elaine vouchsafe a word, then she said, “You must help me with
+the dogs,” as we went breathlessly up through the house and orchard
+back walk to the dog kennels, a low stone building in a picket fence
+enclosure.
+
+A man with a great shock of snow-white hair and a young face touched
+his forehead and said, “Haig, Miss; he has been uneasy for a week,”
+then he picked up a leather boot, adding, “We changed his boots, Miss,
+since Mr. Hugh noticed his nervousness.”
+
+Two hounds giving evidence of having just abandoned their dinner came
+lounging forward. Elaine placed two fingers in her mouth and gave a
+shrill whistle, a duplicate of her brother’s signal when I first made
+the acquaintance of the pack, and every beast was at the fence in a
+jiffy.
+
+The white-haired man now snapped a leash onto the collar of the
+wickedest-looking of the animals, handed the braided strap to Elaine
+and surrounded by the dogs we went toward the wood.
+
+“Haig was disking in the firewood field, Miss. We think he took to
+the swamp; has been gone hours probably. We missed him only after
+lunch-hour and did not wish to disturb you knowing that the master was
+away.”
+
+“You should have notified me at once,” Elaine answered, “The poor
+fellow is not in good health.”
+
+The gray-haired man left us. We soon reached the plow from which the
+horses had been turned loose. The half-mile walk was passed in silence
+except that Elaine talked constantly to the brutes as they crowded
+about her, whimpering replies strangely, seemingly comprehendingly.
+
+The long boot brought by the man was investigated, I believe, by every
+dog and they then spread out, circling over the field nearby, silently
+for a moment, then one gave vent to a prolonged howl, a most dismal
+sound, and headed off toward the woods on the east; the other dogs
+in turn found the scent, each giving his lugubrious signal and then
+running in silence.
+
+As two men on horseback came in sight over a rise of ground, Elaine
+pointed to the pack and the men spurred toward the swamp woods, making
+a short cut.
+
+As we walked back toward the house, Elaine explained that she and her
+brother entertained about forty “guests,” liberated from Canadian and
+American prisons, that they were constantly coming and going, but they
+all came “on condition that they should stay at the Hall until Hugh
+gave them permission to go.”
+
+He found places for them in occupations suited to their condition. Some
+stayed permanently, working at farming, keeping accounts, or doing such
+work as best fitted them for the world outside. Most of those liberated
+through Hugh’s efforts were educated men, proven innocent of the
+crimes for which they were incarcerated or carrying unreasonably long
+sentences, all alike robbed of spirit through prison discipline.
+
+“Haig’s case?” I asked.
+
+“Hugh will tell you all about it,” she evaded.
+
+Regulations were that each might choose his work and change it if it
+proved unsuitable. They were all silent men, good listeners, tractable,
+helpful to each other, timid for a time, always respectful to Hugh,
+herself, and the supervisors, who were all life-termers, who chose to
+remain permanently at the Hall.
+
+The white-haired man and the two house men whom I had seen were rescued
+from life imprisonment through Hugh’s efforts.
+
+“Was she afraid of her guests?”
+
+“No, only sorry for them. She wished to help Hugh whose ambition was to
+make of this work a national institution on a big scale.”
+
+The case of the runaway was unfortunate inasmuch as his home was in the
+village which he doubtless would attempt to reach--and he had not yet
+recovered from “prison poisoning” as Elaine put it.
+
+After six o’clock and no word from the runaway; Elaine had excused
+herself. I selected a book from the library and then wandered down to
+the river; the sun was behind the big hill to the west when I returned
+to the house, found that the searchers were still out, but that the
+dogs had lost the scent; repaired to my room to find my bags awaiting
+me, bathed, debated, then city habit winning, donned dinner clothes and
+returned to the library.
+
+“Miss Craighead is resting,” the “guest”-waiter explained; “would I
+prefer to wait, would I dine at the usual hour or await her pleasure?”
+
+“I would prefer to wait,” I replied.
+
+Though now that the sun was down, the fresh Canadian autumn air with
+a tang and the unusual exercise of the afternoon had aroused in me a
+splendid appetite, I would have risked starving rather than forego the
+pleasure of a tête-à-tête dinner with this interesting personality.
+
+I wandered out into the orchard, my thoughts drawing me to the tree of
+the morning’s adventure. The “twelve baskets” were not there, but I had
+no difficulty in finding what I wished, an apple to eat.
+
+I dined late, and alone; it must have been at least nine o’clock.
+Elaine offered no excuse through the servant.
+
+“She must be asleep,” I reasoned. I retired about midnight, ill at ease
+and not a little disappointed at the ending of a day that had begun so
+pleasantly.
+
+“Mr. Montrose!”
+
+Was I dreaming? were my last thoughts on losing consciousness, a
+silvery voice from the branches of the apple tree, carrying me through
+the mystery period called sleep?
+
+“Mr. Montrose!”
+
+I was awake now, and sprang from my bed, calling excitedly, “What’s
+wrong, what is it?” as I sensed anxiety or some great change in the
+voice of Elaine calling from the hallway.
+
+“Please dress quickly and warmly; I have found the runaway. He will
+die before morning unless we can get to him. I shall be in the hall
+downstairs or at the pier.”
+
+I dressed quickly and as I started downstairs, Elaine called, “Please
+get Stanton from the west corner room. I’ll be down in a minute.”
+
+I confess feeling panicky as I rushed through the upper hall, dark as a
+pocket, knocked, then without awaiting a reply, entered, to find that
+Stanton was the young-faced gray-haired man who had started the hunt
+for Haig.
+
+The man was ready to go almost before I could get out of the room and
+joined me at the foot of the stairway, just as Elaine came down the
+stairs.
+
+She was clad as in the morning, but wore a short coat of deerskin and a
+close-fitting deerskin cap. The straight brown line of the cap crossing
+her forehead probably accentuated her paleness, certainly the hours of
+“rest” had worked on her sad havoc as she looked more like a spectre
+than the reality of the girl of the evening. She spoke nervously,
+authoritatively,
+
+“Stanton, Haig is in the old Blank house beyond the swamp. He needs
+help--pneumonia perhaps; bring a couple of blankets. Mr. Montrose, will
+you put on an overcoat, a sweater, that will be better, you will have
+to work. I’ll bring Hugh’s. Get the big canoe out,” and she ran swiftly
+upstairs.
+
+I followed, picked up my topcoat, for the night was chilly, and got
+back to the front door to see Elaine flying down the pathway to the
+landing.
+
+Stanton was launching a good-sized canoe, wide of beam, beautifully
+shaped from a pine tree log, and remarked, just as I arrived, “It will
+hold four, but why should you go, Miss. Mr. Montrose and I can look
+after him.”
+
+Elaine’s answer was to stoop and seize the roll of blankets, throw them
+into the bow of the canoe, and seat herself upon them, turning up the
+collar of her coat, as she faced the two of us, I on the center thwart
+and Stanton steering.
+
+As we paddled eastward in silence, my mind, I must say, was not on the
+case of Haig. A delicate white throat peeping out between the upturned
+lapels of leather; the fair, wan face above it, the graceful outline of
+the girl as she half reclined in the narrow prow of the canoe, were of
+much greater interest than was the welfare of the fleeing ex-convict at
+two o’clock in the morning.
+
+I handled a paddle well, thanks to my early love of the open water and
+a light canoe. While the fast little craft cut through the water in the
+darkness, my mind was busy--almost to the asking point. I wondered how
+Elaine knew about the hiding place of Haig.
+
+Presently, after proceeding a long distance straight east as I judged
+the direction on swinging out from the pier, we veered to the left a
+little and proceeding a half-mile or so, turned sharply into a channel
+with great-limbed water-killed trees on either side, at first dimly
+outlined, then more close to us. How far we came I could not even
+guess. The silent night, the sombre surroundings, the gentle dip, dip
+of the paddles; the strange girl, seemingly asleep, but only seemingly,
+and I thought with the purpose of avoiding conversation, had their
+effect on my nerves.
+
+I was relieved to hear Stanton say, “We must go slowly here or I shall
+miss the channel and come to grief,” a long speech for a Craighead Hall
+“guest.”
+
+The canoe came almost to a standstill, then moved sharply to the left
+at a paddle stroke by Stanton, gliding gently among the dead trees
+whose limbs seemed to reach out like living tentacles of the octopus,
+in an attempt to enfold us. Into the living woods, ash and willow,
+through lily pads in clusters, an almost imperceptible path in a field
+of wild rice and rushes.
+
+Hugh’s description of his boyhood adventure at Blank’s house came
+vividly before me as we pushed the canoe alongside the remnants of a
+crude landing pier. It was a pier only in semblance. Ice had loosened
+boards which time and neglect had reduced almost to nothingness. There
+were gaps and rotted planks; Mirza’s bridge at Bagdad was not more
+hazardous, but Elaine lightly sprang over the open places until she
+reached more solid footing on logs laid lengthwise. Even they were
+precarious as they also had yielded to time and the elements.
+
+I followed more carefully, but in the dark made one mistake which left
+me with a leg to the thigh dripping with water and black ooze from a
+spot that looked solid.
+
+Elaine waited for us, ’twas just a moment, and we proceeded through a
+tangle for a seemingly interminable distance. How foolish of us to have
+forgotten to bring a lantern or candle even. I had matches, and used a
+few before we came to the bottom of a garden in a small clearing. Even
+the garden was a labyrinth difficult of threading. All sorts of vines
+seemed to reach up to trip us and weeds abounded.
+
+We stood before a log house, one story high with two small-paned
+windows, a door between. I could see the outlines of a barn or shed to
+the left.
+
+I tried the door, Stanton standing back as though awaiting orders,
+while Elaine still held the roll of blankets that she had elected
+to carry, notwithstanding my protest. The door withstanding all my
+efforts, refused to open; there was something more substantial than a
+lock holding it, I felt.
+
+At Elaine’s suggestion, I tried the window on the right without avail.
+Stanton, better riverman than I, had carried his paddle to help his
+balance on the pier and logs. This he inserted under the window frame,
+which raised.
+
+He threw up the window and called, “Haig!”
+
+No reply.
+
+“He is in there,” Elaine said, and looked at me.
+
+Stanton was holding up the lower frame of the window. I am not a
+coward, but I certainly had no relish for what was evidently my task.
+But had I known that the place was full of serpents, I would not have
+hesitated in her presence.
+
+I crawled awkwardly through the opening which was almost breast-high
+from the ground. Inside, I listened intently just a moment, then
+touching the wall with both hands, moved to the right, until I found
+the door, felt a heavy bar across, lifted one end until it swung
+upright on a hinge and from the sound, snapped into a holder. I could
+see nothing. The darkness was inky.
+
+Stanton was trying to and finally did force the lock, and it was a
+relief to find him beside me, endeavoring to strike a match.
+
+What is there in a human habitation, long deserted, which brings a
+chill to the spine when entered at the darkest hour of night? Is it a
+rendezvous for the baser spirits of the departed, the outcasts from the
+civilization of the tomorrow?
+
+Certainly as I stood awaiting the forcing of the door, I could feel the
+foul things all about; could even hear them. I was not afraid, merely
+palsied with horror, quivering.
+
+“Bats,” Stanton said. “Please stay outside, out of the doorway, Miss,
+they will strike you,” he called to Elaine as his match flared up for a
+second, then went out, intensifying the darkness.
+
+Stanton again called. Silence, except for that indescribable sough
+produced by the wings of flying bats. Another match, two this time,
+and Stanton opened the nearest door in the west half partition. I had
+found my matches and before his expired was beside him with a fresh
+light. There was not an article of furniture in the room, but huddled
+in the far corner, in a half lying, half sitting posture, was Haig, a
+white-faced frail-looking lad, not long out of his teens apparently.
+Seemingly the spark of life had left him, he was so still. Elaine
+was on her knees, beside him, feeling through his wet clothes for
+heart-beats.
+
+“He is alive, barely alive,” she exclaimed, excitedly. “Make a fire
+of something. He will not live until we get him home and Hughie would
+never forgive me.”
+
+I wrapped one of the blankets about him, cursing myself for not
+bringing either a light or a stimulant; carried him out and rubbed his
+body vigorously while Stanton tore a cupboard from a corner of the
+larger room and soon had a fire going outside.
+
+The second blanket was warmed and replaced the first. As I worked over
+him, I wondered what crime this delicate boy could have committed which
+would harden the hearts of a jury of men to the extent of condemning so
+innocent-looking a youth to a living death in prison. I must ask Hugh
+about it.
+
+He opened his eyes and tried to speak. Elaine, who was close beside
+him, placed her little white hand over his lips and said, just as a
+mother would, “Now don’t speak. Just shut your eyes and rest. We shall
+take you home.”
+
+After Haig’s clothing was dry, at least thoroughly heated, we wrapped
+him in the two blankets, both hot, and Stanton carried him over the
+hazardous places alone, while I helped when I could.
+
+We found our way out to the open river just before dawn. It was
+bitterly cold on the water. Elaine wore my topcoat. When I helped her
+into it, she was tremulous, almost hysterical, now that the anxiety was
+over.
+
+I reached the conclusion, as I tucked the ample folds of the coat about
+her, as she sat in the bottom of the canoe near the bow, that here
+was a wonderful thing, a girl, a woman, such as I had never thought
+existed. I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her--much.
+
+Instead, I placed Haig’s head in her lap, at her demand, stretched his
+body back with feet under my seat amidship, and with Stanton paddled
+back the long four-mile detour to Craighead Hall.
+
+Tucked into Stanton’s bed, with a drink of brandy, hot water bottles
+about him, I left Haig and sought my room. I did not retire then; broad
+daylight found me pacing the floor, filled with unease, doubt, fear,
+yet with a longing unfathomable. I had come searching for a man astray,
+and had lost myself. What would be the sequel?
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+The sun was pretty well down over the west when I found Elaine in the
+great hall. I had slept through the day. She had ordered dinner in the
+library, and was awaiting me. “How did you know I should be ready at
+this time?” I asked.
+
+“Oh,” she replied, “The walls of this house have ears. You needed a
+good sleep after last night. I feel greatly indebted to you. Our boy is
+doing splendidly.”
+
+What hope for a man who wishes to say something when a woman wills that
+he must not? Here was the woman, the lady hostess, not the approachable
+girl of the canoe voyage, and I learned a lesson in restraint, found
+myself drawn away from any encroachment on the personal; intensely
+interested in a rare quality of mind, beautifully, absorbingly
+unfolded. Yes, the evening was one of agony and I retired uncertain
+of myself, baffled, convinced that no thought of me other than as the
+brother’s friend and her guest during his absence had ever occurred to
+her.
+
+Next day we were seated on opposite sides of a luncheon table on
+the upper veranda. The sun was bright. I was about to pull down the
+Venetian curtain, when Hugh, a Chinaman at his heels, bounded up the
+east stairway. After greeting his sister with an embrace and me with a
+handshake, Hugh said,
+
+“This is Fong Wing, who will hereafter make his home with us. He was
+legally free yesterday morning, but I gave him time to buy an outfit;
+Elaine, he is yours, the best lady’s maid in Canada. The warden’s
+family wished him to stay; though he has nominally been in prison for
+five years, during most of the time he has served as a maid in the
+family of the warden. They became much attached to Fong.”
+
+Turning to the Chinaman, Hugh said, “Fong, this is your new mistress,
+Miss Elaine. Guard her as you would your life, and obey her; and this
+is my friend, Mr. Montrose.”
+
+What is the age of a Chinaman after he has seen forty or fifty years?
+The queue was missing; shorn clean, his bullet head sported a million
+bristles sticking straight out. His round satin cap was in his hand. He
+bowed to me, looked with lamblike eyes into the face of Elaine, knelt,
+took her right hand and placing it on his bristly pate, said,
+
+“Missie catch one good China boy; good cook; good hair dresser, make
+good music,” arose and held a chair that Elaine might resume her seat
+at the table.
+
+Hugh took Fong along presumably to show him his quarters and shortly
+after joined us, laughingly saying, “At last, sister, we have one
+cheerful, talkative guest in this house of silent men. Fong is a
+talker. I would stake my life on his faithfulness. His parting with the
+warden’s three young lady daughters was comically pathetic.”
+
+“What was his crime?”
+
+“He was given twenty years for using a hatchet promiscuously on
+a member of a rival tong and glad to get out. Regards me as his
+benefactor and feels that for fifteen years I shall own him, body and
+soul.”
+
+Recital of the attempt of Haig to escape and details of the rescue
+seemed to sober Hugh who was in high spirits. I hoped he would ask
+Elaine how she knew that the runaway was at the Blank place, but when
+she mentioned that we had gone there at her request, Hugh’s eyes only
+took on a saddened expression as he turned them toward those of his
+sister.
+
+“Montrose, I shall tell you Haig’s story some day,” Hugh said.
+
+Elaine, who had been turning the leaves of a fashion magazine which
+Hugh had brought, started up, saying, “I must see what they’re going to
+wear this winter. Where did you put Fong?”
+
+“In the green room, but you need not leave us. No secrets between Mr.
+Montrose and me that you may not hear,” Hugh replied.
+
+Her answer was a pat on his hand, and surprise of surprises, a glance
+at me more frank and friendly than she had vouchsafed during Hugh’s
+absence.
+
+We were smoking and looking out over the river, calm and beautiful and
+for a time both were silent, then Hugh said, “I am very glad that you
+saved Haig, Montrose. Had he gotten to his old home, he would have
+spoiled my plans. I have a fine place for him as soon as he regains
+his poise. The boy was innocent of any crime, the greatest piece of
+injustice and cruelty that I ever came across in the many cases which I
+have investigated.
+
+“You must know that in the best-managed of villages, vice resorts
+cannot be kept out. Valleyford is a clean village, but it once harbored
+one such place, kept by a woman who supported an innocent daughter at a
+Toronto school through the use of her home by girls who plied a vicious
+trade, alluring young men of the village, and many older men, I am
+afraid, for gain.
+
+“During the summer holiday season, Haig, who was only seventeen, was
+celebrating with four older boys from college. They all took several
+drinks and finally repaired to this house on the suggestion of one of
+the boys that they go to see some girls. Unfortunately, the daughter
+had unexpectedly reached home that evening and met three nice
+appearing girl boarders and received the five boy callers, innocent of
+the evil calling of her companions, the mother being at the grocer’s.
+The obvious happened; the daughter was abused, warrants for the five
+were issued next day at the mother’s instance.
+
+“James Haig, on hearing of the warrant, walked into the sheriff’s
+office; his brother, nineteen, resisted arrest in Manitoba and was
+killed; another of the boys after wounding a policeman in Sarnia was
+shot and died before the other three were placed on trial. The trio was
+convicted and sentenced to twenty years in the penitentiary though the
+four girls, and all three boys testified that Jimmie Haig merely met
+the girls, had been so desperately ill that he lay out on the porch
+until supported home by his brother. This was his first experience with
+liquor.”
+
+Hugh paused, added in an aside, “What a terrible curse is liquor. It
+has filled penitentiaries. I wish it could be abolished,” then resumed:
+
+“The crime is a serious one and is severely punished in Canada, but
+there were mitigating circumstances and I shall never rest until
+I have the other two boys under this roof. The stern old Scot who
+passed sentence on these youths seemed to take a vicious delight in
+disregarding a recommendation to mercy for James Haig, made by the
+equally stern jury of farmers. The poor boy was in hell for five years
+as a punishment for taking a drink. None of the boys was vicious; they
+were only foolish.
+
+“I saw the mother of these two lost sons die of grief, followed soon
+after by the proud father whose spirit was broken by the disgrace and
+when six months ago after nearly three years’ effort, I brought Haig
+across the river here, a frail, broken young man, parents dead, home
+and inheritance lost, no spirit, I felt no elation; felt that there was
+scant justice in the world. This case as no other made me appreciate
+that truly ‘man’s inhumanity to man makes countless millions mourn.’
+
+“Think of this boy facing his schoolmates; while absolutely innocent
+of any crime he carries the prison stigma; people not fit to tie his
+shoe-laces will shun him as a jailbird. ‘Oh justice, how many crimes
+are committed in thy name!’”
+
+Hugh had arisen and walked the veranda in long strides; pity mingled
+with passion seemed to almost overpower him. I hastened to suggest that
+we go and cheer up the boy, adding, “and tonight I wish to discuss with
+you another subject.”
+
+“Gordon,” Hugh said, and I was pleased at the use of my Christian name,
+“I have got to tell you the whole story. Strange that we humans should
+find relief in sharing with others our worries,” and he put his arm
+over my shoulder as we went into the house.
+
+“Thank you, Hugh,” I replied, feeling my duplicity. I wished to discuss
+Elaine, not her strange malady. I had decided that I had found the only
+woman in the world beside whom I would be satisfied to walk through
+life and whatever her trouble might be, I wanted her. Forgotten her
+seizure, the fact that I knew so little of her, everything save that I
+longed to have the privilege of caring for her.
+
+A man whom I had noticed working about the boathouse intercepted us as
+we were in the upper hall, asking Hugh’s permission for the “guests”
+to try a night at spearing fish. Hugh readily assented and suggested
+that possibly I might like to take a hand in the sport, explaining
+that a flat-bottomed boat would be used; a “jack,” a sort of cradle
+fixed about four feet high from the boat’s bow, filled with pine knots,
+furnished the light, the spearmen stood forward and could easily see
+the fish through six feet of water.
+
+We reached Haig’s room and I marvelled at the man Craighead as he took
+the boy’s hand, chiding him as gently as though he were his son, though
+the difference in years as between the two was not great. I was taken
+into the conversation and gleaned much of interest regarding Hugh’s
+work.
+
+Later in the men’s dining room, I listened after introduction to at
+least twenty men ranging in age from possibly twenty-five to sixty, to
+Hugh’s interesting talk to these “guests.” Inquiry as to work, how
+the fall plowing, the land clearing, road building, ditch digging and
+dairying were progressing. I thought what a splendid thing this salving
+of human souls was, what a wonderful thing, if all ex-convicts on
+regaining freedom could be taken to a retreat like this and kept until
+the prison pallor was replaced by sunburn, until the broken will was
+re-established and at least a measure of self-respect attained.
+
+No! Society had not yet awakened to the advantages of such
+humanitarianism. It remained for an individual fortunately provided
+with the means as well as the will to furnish a haven for these social
+outcasts who otherwise with poisoned minds and shrunken souls would
+slink back to the old haunts, re-enact their crime, or failing in
+vicious courage, live as best they could, the prey of every minion of
+the guardians of society; fortunate if permitted to remain at large,
+slinking through the world carrying always on face or in walk, the mark
+of Cain.
+
+We had watched the boat’s lights as the men went joyously out into the
+quiet river. I found that they talked and jested; the older “guests”
+seemingly endeavoring to draw out the later recruits in conversation.
+
+I preferred to try my luck at the sport later on.
+
+Elaine, with a peculiar look at her brother, absent-minded, it
+appeared, had excused herself while Hugh and I were smoking over our
+coffee, before walking down to the landing. A slight chill was in the
+air.
+
+Ten o’clock found us in the library. Lying back on the pillows of a
+couch in the shadowy room, with hands clasped back of his head, Hugh
+said reminiscently.
+
+“McFarlane was a splendid fellow, seemed old to me at the time, though
+not more than thirty; on the train, the ship, he looked after our
+comfort; kept both Alix and myself much interested through his own
+curiosity and peculiar remarks on what he observed.
+
+“When greatly interested or excited, he lapsed into Scotch so broad
+that the words were almost unintelligible to me. Craighead affairs were
+not discussed, though I remember endeavoring to learn something about
+my forebears.
+
+“When we reached Glasgow, it was night. We were bundled into a
+four-wheeled carriage, McFarlane giving the driver directions, and I
+caught the name Hill Head, a name which I had heard father and John
+Hallowed mention occasionally. It rained slightly, and the air seemed
+hollow. I can even now distinctly hear the hoofbeats of the horses as
+we crossed the wooden bridge over the little Kelvin River separating
+the city from Hill Head borough, also McFarlane’s voice saying, ‘We
+are a’most there the noo.’
+
+“My nerves were tense as we drove through a gateway with stone pillars
+in a high brick wall hiding from our view a great square three-story
+building until we were right upon it. The house was dark, except for a
+glimmer through diamond-shaped panes of glass, on each side a massive
+door opening onto a stone-paved terrace.
+
+“We alighted and waited until McFarlane spoke to our coachman, then
+walked across the stone flagging to the door which a dour-faced man was
+holding open.
+
+“As we children entered, a sad-eyed, middle-aged woman in nurse’s
+attire looked at us sharply and said, ‘Puir bairnies, puir bairnies,
+and the mither buried this day week.’
+
+“Alix screamed.
+
+“‘What do you mean?’ McFarlane exclaimed, ‘Dead? Mrs. Craighead dead?’
+
+“And the woman said, ‘Dead, aye, dead puir thing, gang awa’ hame to her
+mon when the wee ane came.’
+
+“I lost consciousness; with the exhaustion of hurried travel,
+seasickness, the terrible shock of hearing that my sainted mother was
+no more; what could be expected?
+
+“When I recovered my senses after a night’s rest, the first thing that
+greeted me was Alix, swollen-eyed, holding close to her face a wee
+baby in a knitted white something.”
+
+Hugh paused, a look indescribable came into his eyes raised to mine
+and he said, “Gordon, this was Elaine, thus named in compliance with
+mother’s expressed wish. Elaine, the finest, bravest little comforter
+that God ever gave to a brother. I resented at that time the ‘will
+of God’ as the nurse put it in saying that mother gave her life that
+this little thing might live, but from the day that her little fingers
+grasped mine, to this hour, I have had no love for any creature on
+earth approaching my love for my little sister.
+
+“McFarlane took entire charge of the little family of three. We had
+plenty of money on which to live nicely and travel; always McFarlane,
+Alix, baby, and nurse and myself.
+
+“We stayed in the great gloomy house for months, then went to southern
+France. I was out of school for a year, sickly. Finally we took a small
+residence in Edinburgh where I attended school.
+
+“During all the years until I was twenty-one and had my A. B. degree,
+McFarlane evaded my every question as to my family history. He had had
+himself appointed our legal guardian and had mapped out my career. I
+was to be a lawyer, as we call it.
+
+“I had now reached man’s estate, a citizen of the City of Edinburgh,
+studious, a dreamer rather than a doer, my mind always painting
+pictures of the old place, reverting frequently to John Blank and I
+had always determined that I should come back when Elaine grew up.
+
+“Elaine was a bright youngster, ‘muckle tae bricht,’ old nurse would
+say. Though frail in appearance, she had wonderful vitality, was a
+good student, her mind as she came into her teens running to the queer
+things in literature and history. She studied especially the old Bible,
+the edition with the apocrypha, the fourteen books of the Septuagint
+and the Vulgate, added to the Hebrew scriptures, the net result being
+avoidance of churches and preaching, a most awful thing to McFarlane
+and to the local dominie, who assured Alix, the little mother of the
+household, that the ‘girlie was headed straicht for Hell.’
+
+“Alix was a splendid woman, with many friends, but McFarlane’s business
+interviews with her were so frequent that all suitors were discouraged.
+The course of our lives ran smoothly and we were very happy together.
+
+“One day, McFarlane on returning from a two-hour business engagement
+with Alix, as he explained it, asked me to accompany him to Glasgow
+that I might sign some papers connected with my father’s estate.
+
+“Arrived at the gloomy city, dreading a visit to the ugly house of my
+forefathers, I was surprised and pleased when we alighted at a clean,
+bright-looking hotel where we shared a room, repairing next morning
+to the city hall, where I signed, McFarlane signed, a clerk witnessed,
+another official signed and put a great blue seal with ribbons on a
+number of papers.
+
+“To another room, where a more important, if possible, personage than
+the blue seal handler, critically examined every paper presented; I
+remember feeling an anxiety equalling that of examination day when my
+coveted A. B. was in the balance and was greatly relieved when the
+judge finally affixed his signature to one of the documents, shoved all
+of them over to a clerk at a desk on a lower level and told McFarlane,
+‘You have been a good steward, sir,’ and looking keenly at me, added,
+‘and this is the young man, and no blood of his, who has circumvented
+the iron will of old Alexander Craighead; the old man will turn in his
+grave tonight.’
+
+“I almost ran from the building, urging McFarlane for an explanation of
+the judge’s remarks.
+
+“‘Naething, naething at a’; the auld judge is garrulous,’ was all I
+could elicit.
+
+“It never occurred to me to read what I was signing, but when in
+our hotel room, McFarlane spread before me what he explained was a
+power of attorney, giving him authority to handle my affairs until I
+should revoke it; I read the document carefully and knowing nothing of
+business, balked at signing. Finally I signed, after McFarlane produced
+a document of similar import bearing Alix’s signature and I returned
+to Edinburgh alone, the master of a property about which I knew
+nothing, nor did I care, as life went along as before.
+
+“I took my post-graduate course, graduated at law, spent six months
+traveling in Europe and yet I had no idea as to the extent of my
+inheritance. You may think, friend Montrose, that for a man holding
+a Master’s degree I was a dullard; the fact is, Alix mothered me,
+managed, I thought, all business matters, though it was really
+McFarlane’s steady head that did everything needful.
+
+“I was twenty-four; my time was almost wholly devoted to study. We
+always called our friend ‘Mr. McFarlane,’ though once I overheard Alix
+use his Christian name, saying,
+
+“‘No, James, time enough when we must tell him.’
+
+“I sensed an understanding between my elder sister and McFarlane, even
+surmised that they might marry, thought the secret they were keeping
+from me was an engagement, as they were much together when McFarlane
+was not away in Glasgow.
+
+“Alix did not wish me to return to Canada, but while in Europe, I
+planned a visit to Craighead Hall before taking a place in a law office
+secured through our faithful friend’s influence.
+
+“Faithful old John Hallowed’s letters and accounts had all through the
+years kept us in touch with the old place.
+
+“Strange that Elaine, who had never seen this old mansion should have
+developed a greater interest in it than either Alix or I retained. She
+knew how many acres had been cleared, all about the enlargement of the
+orchard and the wonderful success of the fruit grafting. We talked over
+every item in Hallowed’s reports, otherwise I fear my interest might
+have flagged.
+
+“John Blank had become almost a myth. One day I was crossing from
+Calais to Dover, homeward bound after seeing the world; sitting in
+one of the uncomfortable chairs on deck I found myself looking at the
+profile of an old lady--the young ones failed to interest me even then.
+
+“Something in the half face before me carried me back to a deft blue
+room and the block house down the back channel and the woman who
+dressed me, whom John Blank called Margie. Ridiculous, I thought. This
+plainly but handsomely gowned lady could not be the roughly dressed
+woman of the long ago. I walked past her and inspection only tended to
+confirm my first thought.
+
+“My interest was such that it attracted her attention and fearing that
+my actions would justly lay me under a charge of rudeness, at least, I
+stepped up to her, bowed and said, ‘Madam, pardon me, are you not Mrs.
+Blank from Canada?’
+
+“She paled, appeared annoyed, rather seemed startled, then after
+hesitating while we looked at each other, eye to eye, said, ‘No, young
+man, I am not Mrs. Blank of Canada,’ arose and disappeared in the
+boat’s interior.
+
+“I stammered an apology wholly lost on her.
+
+“Going directly to London I was surprised but delighted to meet
+McFarlane at the hotel. He said Alix had informed him of the probable
+date of my arrival there and as we were talking in the lounge even
+before I had been assigned a room, two men whom I would have sworn were
+Scotland Yard operatives appeared and he excused himself saying they
+were friends with whom he wished to discuss some private matters.
+
+“At dinner that night I mentioned the episode on the boat. When the
+name Mrs. Blank was mentioned, McFarlane started, almost leaving his
+chair and had me repeat the exact language used by the lady and myself.
+I inquired as to his interest. He had calmed, said it merely related to
+my oft repeated story of my adventure in the home of the deformed man
+and changed the subject, informing me that he had to meet an old friend
+and was already a little late.
+
+“I finished dinner alone, thinking that the canny Scot was not very
+cordial, considering our extended separation.
+
+“Next day, McFarlane pleaded a bit of urgent business; we were to
+have returned together to Edinburgh. He had to stay in London. I could
+not wait, must see my sisters, so I traveled alone. What joy in that
+reunion! Alix was even more beautiful than when I had left home. Elaine
+was a tall, ethereal, big-eyed child.
+
+“I took my place at a high desk and for three years devoted myself
+assiduously to running errands, copying bills, then briefs, doing the
+grinding, gruelling inside work considered a necessary stepping-stone
+to the lower round of the ladder which all solicitors must climb, and
+my ambition did not stop there. I wished to become an advocate, a
+barrister. I worked hard, devoted much time previously spent with my
+sisters to study after work hours.
+
+“One day Alix told me that Elaine was fourteen. I awoke to the
+realization that here was a young lady, almost; I thought her
+beautiful, as I do now; apparently she was delicate; she never tired of
+study, was an omnivorous reader and a good listener, especially when
+matters pertaining to Craighead Hall were discussed.
+
+“In this year came the turning point in her life and mine.”
+
+Hugh sighed, looked dreamily at the long shadows thrown on a bookcase
+by the leading running perpendicularly with the flame of the one
+lamp, which, with one other, served to remove the library from total
+darkness, hesitated, then said,
+
+“It seems a sacrilege to open up even to your friendly, yes, I venture
+to say more than friendly--sympathetic--ears, even the first chapter in
+our book of secrets.
+
+“Elaine is more to me than is existence. Her infirmity, for I cannot
+now regard it as other than a terrible affliction, though once, God
+forgive me, I looked upon her peculiar ability to penetrate the
+impenetrable, to draw aside the veil separating the here from the
+hereafter and receive messages from the dead--I looked upon this
+unheard of ability as a gift--a sacred thing, sacred,” and Hugh’s voice
+trailed off into a low sibilance.
+
+The light over the fireplace sputtered and went out. Everything was in
+shadow, a mist seemed to gather about Hugh’s reclining form--or was it
+the change wrought through lessening of the light? I, Gordon Montrose,
+saw, or thought I saw, a man of fifty or more years of age bending over
+Hugh. I missed his features, they were indistinct.
+
+In my excitement I started to my feet, calling, “Hugh! Hugh!” and then
+only we two men, I standing all a-tremble, Hugh calm, but sitting up,
+were in the room.
+
+“Let us retire, Gordon,” Hugh said. “I cannot go on tonight.”
+
+Excitedly I asked, “Did you see the man bending over you?”
+
+“No, I seldom see him,” Hugh replied, smiling wanly.
+
+“Then,” I answered, “am I taking on the spirit of this haunted old
+place? Perhaps I am only like many good Scots, seeing my weird,” and I
+think I laughed lowly, half-heartedly, the sound an apology, for Hugh
+was silent and his manner embarrassed, while it kept me from further
+comment or inquiry.
+
+Hugh gave no sign, but took the one remaining lamp from its setting,
+preceded me upstairs, opened my bedroom door, and said, “Good
+night--and good morning,” and still carrying the lamp, my room being
+lighted, walked down the corridor out of sight.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Sleep would not come. Were they all crazy in this mysterious house?
+Had I, through contact, lost my sense of reality? I certainly saw
+a shadowy man standing over Hugh, yet how could such a thing be?
+Penetrating beyond death. One reads about such things; reads of the
+Christ in person appearing on the third day after crucifixion, yes, and
+I had never thought sufficiently deeply to determine whether or not I
+believed this. Was it not labeled Gospel? And on other occasions the
+Master appeared. I thought of all recorded appearance of spirits as I
+remembered my Bible, all the old superstitions as we call them. Then my
+mind came back to Elaine.
+
+What, exactly, did Hugh mean by drawing aside the veil? Second sight
+perhaps, but second sight is not a malady, it is a gift, if there is
+such a thing, an extra sense. I thought of her beautiful, spirituelle
+face, speaking eyes, golden bronze hair, then of the aged, ashen face
+of the girl in white, felt her pressed against me as she dropped from
+the apple tree.
+
+I awoke with the sun shining in my window, facing south--late. Hugh in
+riding clothes, was standing beside a saddled horse, held by one of the
+silent men. The horse was a beautiful beast, one could almost use his
+polished flank for a mirror.
+
+I called a greeting and Hugh called back, “Hope you had a good rest,”
+as he came across the yard and as he reached the veranda stairhead,
+“Sorry I cannot stay to entertain you today. I have had breakfast and
+must go to the village; urgent call and cannot say when I shall be
+back. Elaine excuses herself this morning. Will be with you shortly, I
+trust; amuse yourself and prowl about, there are many oddities about
+the old place worth investigating.”
+
+We shook hands and I assured him that I felt quite at home, secretly
+rejoicing in anticipation of a day alone with my young hostess.
+
+My breakfast came shortly after Hugh had mounted his horse, waved to me
+with his riding crop, and disappeared.
+
+The day was warm and windless; a boatload of rivermen was the only
+thing moving on the placid water in front. These men were taking in and
+piling in great piles, on the shore of the next point of land to the
+east, the long logs, called booms, which had served to keep the timber
+floating down the river, out of the shallow water dotted with trees
+among which they would otherwise lodge.
+
+I whiled away the morning, going no farther afield than the landing
+pier, always keeping an eye on the house, momentarily hoping that
+Elaine would present herself on the veranda.
+
+Luncheon over; I dined alone, again sought the pier where I could have
+a good view of the house. What a formidable affair it was, rising
+through its entire length of fully 120 feet, two high stories and a
+Tudor style palisade atop, all tooled gray limestone, upper and lower
+veranda stretched across its front for about eighty feet to a tower
+coming out to the twelve-foot verandas’ width, serving to break the
+severity of the facade. The house shut off a view of the rise of the
+hill into the side of which it was fitted.
+
+Disinclined to intrude through inquiry as to the welfare of my hostess,
+I nevertheless felt quite anxious and finally repaired to the house.
+
+I was shocked on entering the great hall; an unmistakable odor of
+something afire assailed me. I took the stairs in a few bounds, ran
+through the hall following my sense of smell until it brought me to the
+room which I knew was being occupied by Fong Wing, the Chinaman.
+
+Without ceremony I swung open the door and burst in upon the celestial,
+to find Fong on hands and knees on the floor, before him an improvised
+shrine, a Buddha, black with age, an oblong plate in front, full of
+burning punk sticks, the room full of smoke and scattered about in
+orderly disorder, thousands of small discs of paper, white and pink.
+
+“What in heaven’s name--” here I stopped. Another worshipper, another
+religion, a devotee as earnest and orthodox as could be found in any
+Catholic, Protestant or offshoot branch of the Christian church; a
+heathen, and yet was there to the Deity anything in his manner of
+worship differentiating his supplication or thank-offering from that of
+the Christian?
+
+Fong, as becomes any worshipper disturbed in his devotions who
+naturally does not wish to break off the established connection
+abruptly, took his time and while I stood, open-mouthed, arose.
+
+I apologized, “Fong, I’m sorry, I thought the house was afire.”
+
+“Allee light, allee light, Mista Montlose.”
+
+“What the devil are you doing with all this paper stuff? You’ll set the
+house ablaze same day,” I retorted.
+
+“Dlive away devil-man makee li’l Missie sick. We ketchee him last
+night,” Fong replied.
+
+Fong’s eyes were big and startled as he sputtered out, “No, no! No see
+him, quick devil-man come, Missie talk, talk, bymby nearly all night.
+Soon Missie die; Fong dlive devil-man away, maybe.”
+
+The doubt in the “maybe” registered despair, question as to the
+efficacy of his supplication. There flashed through my mind the
+prayer of the Christian, the penance, the intermediary, Mary, the
+Saints, Jesus, Buddha, Confucius; the blood offering of the Hebrews,
+the burning punk wood of the Chinaman; wherein lies the difference?
+Is it not in fact in the reflex, is not the end attained in the act
+itself? Else why should this heathen pray, this one of the five hundred
+millions of Chinese now living and condemned as we are told to an
+eternity in Hell. Is religion merely an emotion? Does devotion have its
+genesis in fear?
+
+“How is your little mistress?” I asked the innocent-faced Chinaman,
+whom I regarded much as I would a child.
+
+“Velly bad, velly bad. Velly sick. Not eat, while lookee allee same
+die, last night, today, now maybe.”
+
+“Take me to her,” I ordered, peremptorily, forgetting propriety or
+anything except that I must get help.
+
+Fong opened a door in the side of his room, crossed a hallway, quietly
+swung wide another door and I stepped into Elaine’s chamber.
+
+My heart stopped beating. She was lying on a great high mahogany
+bed with four carved posts marking the corners rising half-way to
+the room’s ceiling. The westering sun slanting across the white
+bed-covering caught her face in its full light. She was as motionless
+as the dead; gray with the pallor of death, there was no rise and fall
+of the chest, not even a quiver of the throat.
+
+I thought her dead as I stood for a moment looking not at the girl
+Elaine as I carried her in my heart but at that other ashen-faced woman
+into whom Elaine was unaccountably metamorphosed on my first night’s
+sojourn at Craighead Hall.
+
+Gently I placed my hand on her brow, it was cold--but moist--wet in
+fact.
+
+“This is not death,” I said aloud, though I had forgotten Fong who
+stood about six feet away with hands clenched together and raised above
+and in front of his head.
+
+She was lying on her back, arms outstretched. I hastily placed a finger
+on her left wrist. Thank God! a pulse, feeble heart-beats, regular, in
+contrast with mine!
+
+Fong, trained lady’s maid of the prison warden’s feminine household,
+was at home in this emergency. The Chinaman brought cold water, laved
+her brow, face and throat, talking an unintelligible jargon in low
+crooning tones.
+
+I stood silent and helpless until Fong directed me to perform a similar
+office with hands and arms, applying linen wrung out in cold water and
+rubbing vigorously.
+
+A faint tinge of color gradually replaced the pallor. She sighed,
+suddenly sat up, eyes wide open and lips apart as though in alarm.
+She threw out her hands, palms outward as though to ward off--Fong
+dropped to his knees. I think he thanked some deity, perhaps only the
+intermediary; it was in Chinese; as for me, I thanked God direct and
+in good Anglo-Saxon and so loudly that it seemed to arouse Elaine and
+explain to her the cause of the intrusion.
+
+“Why the reception?” came in a hysterical, whispered laugh from Elaine,
+her big eyes resting on mine, then she sank back onto the pillows, the
+eyes closed; she seemed utterly exhausted.
+
+“I shall go for a doctor,” I urged, but she shook her head.
+
+“No! No doctor can do anything. I shall be all right in a little
+while,” and she seemed to fall asleep as I stood irresolute, not
+knowing whether to obey or go at once to the village for a physician.
+
+I turned on hearing a rustling as of paper being gathered together, to
+find the Celestial with a sheaf of leaves in his hands, moon-eyed as he
+looked at me saying, “Devil-liting, Missie liting to Devil-man, allee
+time talk, talk, talk.”
+
+I took the sheaf of papers from Fong’s hand. There was no writing,
+nothing but almost perpendicular strokes on them. These strokes were
+usually from left to right across the page and while they all ran
+together in unbroken order, there seemed a semblance of word form.
+Opposite is a facsimile of one paragraph that struck my eye.
+
+At first meaningless, God help us, I thought, it is a mental disorder,
+possibly incurable; then my eye caught in the pencil-strokes the
+words “No the old life.” I followed, partially guessing, partially
+deciphering, until I had the whole paragraph. This one read:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+“No the old life was too hard but until in this life I did not know
+what the true meaning was--”
+
+Great heavens, I had never suspected. I had read of mediums, automatic
+writings--men and women allegedly possessing the gift of transcribing
+without volition messages from the dead. Could such a thing be
+possible? I had never given the absurd claim a serious thought. ’Twas
+beyond the range of the possible, yet here in my hands under my very
+eyes was evidence that such a thing existed. Evidence, not proof,
+I reflected. Recollection of descriptions of the medium’s physical
+manifestations when the desire or urge to write came fitted this case.
+
+I glanced over to where Elaine lay, her face calm and turned slightly
+away from me; the rise and fall of the coverlet showed an easy
+breathing. Gone all semblance of death, a girl again, she peacefully
+slept. What was the cause? Why should a mental impairment take this
+peculiar phase, create this ability to put on paper what a dormant
+physical consciousness permits the subconscious to receive and through
+the pliant physical, transcribe? Did Elaine desire to write? No, I
+preferred the thought that some peculiar complex brought the urge and
+that she was helpless. Was she a “medium?” Surely the symptoms, the
+pallor, the unnatural in every respect; did they not resemble very
+closely those described in what I had at various times read and cast
+aside as fanciful?
+
+All delicate scruples were cast to the winds. I shamelessly took a pile
+of written pages of this seemingly meaningless tracery, sat at the
+little mahogany desk and painstakingly traced the lines.
+
+Fong placed a shaded lamp on the desk top, carefully seeing that no
+ray of light fell on the quiet sleeper, his little mistress, and left
+the room. Strange how noiseless a Chinaman can be. I scarcely sensed
+that he was in the room, so absorbed was I in deciphering the writing,
+evidently traced for the full line without removal of pencil from the
+paper. No crossed t’s or dotted i’s, but words stood out as legibly as
+though in print.
+
+As I read, hour after hour, with no realization as to the passing
+of time or thought as to my indelicate act, I became more and more
+mystified. Why should Elaine’s pencil trace such things?
+
+Here apparently was something urging my hostess to “send me away; keep
+me away from Hugh.”
+
+The name “Hogarth” drew my attention; it seemed to stand out as though
+written in India ink on a sheet lying on the desk which had fallen from
+my hand and my errand to this house, which I must admit had become a
+secondary matter, came sharply before me.
+
+“Send him away, he cannot find Hogarth. He must go away.”
+
+Evidently a question had been asked then. Did Elaine talk or merely
+think the question?
+
+The next line, “No, you never heard of him, he is nothing to you, he
+will never be found.”
+
+Another question, a new line, “yes, gone away, can never be found. No,
+I cannot find him here.”
+
+I searched for further mention of Hogarth through the entire pile of
+written sheets, went back to where I had left off.
+
+One line said “Hugh must be warned, wait for me.”
+
+Were these lines written while Hugh and I sat in the library on the
+previous evening? Was the shadowy form that I had seen bending over
+Hugh the dictator of these alleged messages? Was there then in this
+thing something more tangible than the meanderings of a mind asleep,
+even deranged? What did this girl know about Hogarth? Surely I had
+gleaned from Hugh that the man was unknown to him and therefore Elaine
+could not have had him in mind. The name Hogarth held only in dim
+recollection, that uncertain, was all that Hugh had, and of that I was
+convinced.
+
+I could feel a peculiar chill as of fear as I sat in the semi-darkness
+of this silent night, a silence so intense as to be oppressive. Not
+a sound came from the sleeper. For the first time there dawned on my
+consciousness the thought, “Perhaps this is reality.”
+
+The words of Paul came to me “If Christ be not risen, then is our
+preaching vain and your faith is also vain.” “Christ is risen, Christ
+is risen,” sung by many a sweet-voiced choir had passed me by, the
+story of the resurrection accepted as a matter spiritual, not as
+conscious life after death. Was my mind willing to accept such a thing
+as a spirit, a living entity after death, knowing the things of life,
+earthly life, seeing the happenings of today’s events, remembering the
+past, just as though alive in the flesh?
+
+“Go to the Bible for help in all dilemmas,” was my mother’s adjuration.
+“There you shall learn the truth.”
+
+At fourteen, had I been a Catholic, I should have been known as an
+oblate, so possessed was I with religious fervor and I knew my Holy
+Bible thoroughly. That I should cast back at this hour for negation or
+affirmation of a new and somewhat terrifying thought to a book which I
+had for years neglected to use did not occur to me as strange. Do we
+not, almost to a man, when dire trouble overtakes us, go to God as we
+know him through the teachings during our youth?
+
+The words of Saul “Seek me a woman that hath a familiar spirit that
+I may go to her and inquire of her,” and the reply, “Behold there
+is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at Endor,” floated to my
+consciousness. And Samuel through this medium talked with Saul, told
+him things as they were.
+
+Could I question the inspired word of God? No! The medium saw and
+identified Samuel to Saul. God’s laws being unchangeable, man being the
+same today as in Saul’s time, natural law unchanged, spirits released
+from the body must today exist as they did before Christ came, and if
+they could communicate then, they can communicate now and as I thought
+of the events of last night, fear smote me hard.
+
+How long I pondered these things I know not, nor did I notice, except
+vaguely that the Chinaman had noiselessly entered and as quietly left
+the room. Hours must have passed. I remember thinking:
+
+“What change in humanity might be wrought through the conviction, no,
+the knowledge, that one was never alone, always accompanied by the
+spirit of a friend who had passed on.”
+
+Should one know his every act was seen by somebody would the world not
+walk more circumspectly? Would not crime be lessened and life rendered
+sweeter?
+
+Things seemed unreal. I fancied an influence strange and new to
+me, which I did not try to analyze, drawing me on to a point where
+superstition superseded my usual common sense, and I do not know where
+my thoughts would have carried me had not Fong Wing quietly entered the
+room with a tray, an eggnog, a bowl of broth and three strips of brown
+toast; an immaterial observation, everything considered, but something
+real, tangible.
+
+Fong spoke, “Dlink this, Missie,” presenting the tray.
+
+Then I awoke to the fact that Elaine, awake and questioning-eyed was
+looking at me.
+
+I sprang to the bedside, “Elaine! Elaine! You have been desperately
+ill,” I almost shouted and at the same time realized I had addressed
+her thus familiarly.
+
+She did not seem to notice the use of her Christian name, merely smiled
+and said as she took the drink from Fong’s hands, “I’m awfully sorry to
+have worried you. Really, I’ve slept wonderfully. Where is Hughie?”
+
+Then without awaiting an answer to her query, while looking intently
+past me at her desk, added,
+
+“Thank you for your consideration. I had a miserable headache, but am
+much--”
+
+At that moment she must have seen the sheets of paper which I had
+absent-mindedly kept in hand for her expression suddenly changed.
+
+I cannot describe the change. Have you ever wounded a doe, run her to
+exhaustion’s point and just before using the huntsman’s knife to end
+her misery, caught the look in your victim’s eyes? If so, you then
+have seen what I saw as I looked at my hostess; a beseeching, wounded,
+pleading look which imposed its force on every fibre of my being and
+brought me to my knees beside the bed asking forgiveness, asking for
+her confidence, bringing in the name of Hugh, help for her, my anxiety,
+everything except the one emotion obsessing me, the wish consuming me,
+everything but the whole truth, that I loved her and was cold with the
+fear that I had unforgivably offended.
+
+I felt her small hand laid lightly on my bowed head, heard a low
+pleading voice say, “Please go.”
+
+I do not know how I got out of her presence, nor why I should have
+walked so far through the night. Dawn came while I was atop a high hill
+a mile at least from the house, with thoughts inchoate but even yet
+holding to the night’s events and their possible sequel.
+
+I must have slept all day. Hugh had returned, for my first sensation on
+awakening was hearing him call from the orchard, “A beautiful sunset,
+John.”
+
+With spirits at low ebb, realizing that I must give an explanation and
+offer an apology to the brother of the young lady whose privacy I had
+encroached upon in the desperation of good purpose, I dressed hastily
+and went down to the orchard, thinking that my status at the Craighead
+home would be altered, yes, possibly my visit abridged through the
+untoward events of the night.
+
+Hugh, standing head bared under an apple tree, called out a quiet,
+“Hello, Gordon, glad to see you out,” gave me courage and when he,
+looking frankly and with friendship in the look, held out his hand, I
+could not suppress the moisture which shut him from my vision as my
+hand clasped his and his left arm went over my shoulders, giving me a
+little familiar pull toward him.
+
+“We must save her, Gordon,” and “Yes, Hugh,” was all that was said, but
+it filled my very soul with gladness.
+
+I excused myself to return to my room to change for dinner as Hugh
+informed me, “We shall have the little girl’s company at dinner this
+evening.”
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Summoned half an hour later by the Chinaman, all smiles, I met Elaine
+and Hugh at the foot of the grand stairway, an embarrassing moment for
+me. A momentary casting down of her eyes, then they were raised in all
+their glory to mine and I grasped a little warm extended hand which
+nestled in mine with just the hint of a returned pressure, but the day
+was saved, it spelled forgiveness.
+
+Our hostess was pale, but in good spirit. During dinner, Hugh explained
+that his urgent call to the village was to see the member of Parliament
+from his district making a flying visit home; in the interest of a
+proposed law touching on prison reform generally and in particular
+the establishment by the province of a provincial home for released
+prisoners. He had not accomplished anything definite, but had arranged
+for the care of Haig, had seen the Presbyterian minister, the Reeve,
+Sheriff and the Postmaster and thought he had paved the way for the
+boy’s return without more embarrassment to the unfortunate youth than
+could naturally be avoided.
+
+These and other topics while the serving man was present. We three
+alone, an embarrassing silence ensued.
+
+Elaine broke the spell.
+
+“Hughie, I am glad that Mr. Montrose--”
+
+“Gordon,” Hugh interrupted.
+
+“Mr. Gordon, then,” she said, looking at me smilingly, “knows our
+secret. I wish you would tell him everything--how at first we enjoyed
+the novelty, experimented with it, played with the fire until we
+were burned. We never even suspected danger. I was as eager for the
+experiment as the others. But now it possesses me, controls me, and I
+am powerless. He found me in Scotland, now he lives right here, right
+here beside me.”
+
+Her voice rose as she continued, “The man wanted to get through a
+message, many messages relating to Hugh’s affairs. Gradually he
+unfolded secrets, family secrets, things not known to Alix and Hughie
+or myself. I was only a child. Then later when we heard his dreadful
+story we were so moved that it seemed cruel to refuse to listen to him.”
+
+Hugh spoke. “I encouraged the damnable practice.”
+
+“Because we were in the dark,” Elaine continued, becoming more calm.
+“The thing was so unbelievable! A dead man, buried in that little
+enclosure where you and Hughie met, sending his messages telling his
+history, and always keeping back something, just as though he were
+alive and talking to me. Don’t think him tyrannical or unkind. He is
+unhappy. He has not changed in the spirit world. He guides us, helps us
+through his messages. It was he who urged Hugh to take up this work.”
+
+“I--lose myself often. I can’t help listening to him. I don’t need to
+write, I can repeat the words as they come to me. When I’m awake, I can
+keep away from it by sheer will-power, but when I’m asleep, or just
+falling asleep, I can’t help myself. I must get up and write. That was
+the first stage--questioning aloud and writing the answers, and now I
+can’t stop. My right arm is cold this minute.”
+
+Her face was white, not the ashen hue of the first visitation, her
+right arm extended, the first finger and thumb pressed together as
+though holding a pencil and rotating rapidly as though drawing many
+small circles. I had seen many of these circles among the automatic
+writings last night and wondered as to their significance.
+
+“Save me, Hughie,” she whispered.
+
+Hugh sat as though petrified, gazing at the extended hand. Was there
+too much light, or did Hugh see the form of his old friend? I do not
+know, but if not actually visible, doubtless from memory’s storehouse
+there came to Hugh the vision of the deformed John Blank to paralyze
+action.
+
+I grasped Elaine’s cold hand, seized her arm, brought her to her
+feet and shook her violently before realizing what I was doing. Then
+remembering the treatment administered the evening before, rubbed her
+arm vigorously for a minute until warmth, imagined if not real, was
+there.
+
+The blood returned to the girl’s face. Embarrassed, we looked at each
+other and she and I laughed. Mine was certainly not my usual exhibition
+of hilarity.
+
+Hugh put his arm about his sister’s waist and half carried her to a
+large easy-chair where she sat on the great leather arm with one white
+arm about his neck.
+
+“Exorcising a devil,” was my first coherent thought. Christ driving out
+evil spirits from humans into swine, a queer proceeding. He must have
+a super-mind--strong--did not Elaine say she kept Blank away through
+exercise of will-power--Luther seeing the evil one, _D’Evil_, _sans
+apostrophe_, Devil, and throwing his inkwell at his Satanic majesty,
+effectively putting him to flight, else we would all, I presume, still
+be Catholic; these measures, the methods applied, crowded in on me as
+I moved from the table to a seat near Hugh and Elaine. My brain was
+chaotically striving for a defensive weapon for Elaine’s protection.
+
+“Thank God I never see him. I should die of fright. Hughie has
+described him to me, but oh, how I pity him, even now. He is so sad,
+so unhappy in a state where we think our worries are over.”
+
+There was silence for a moment, then she resumed,
+
+“Do you know, Mr.----, do you know, Gordon, I am told that we do not
+change when our bodies die; we awaken to find ourselves just as we
+were, knowing nothing more than when we lived. We are cared for until
+able to care for ourselves, influenced by those with whom we come in
+contact, and just as here, there are the good and the bad. Some day I
+shall show you the messages.”
+
+I sat spellbound. A little hand came out toward me which I eagerly
+grasped and touched with my lips. I think pity inspired her gracious
+act for certainly I felt woebegone and probably looked it.
+
+“Is that what we call Heaven, or is it Hell?” I managed to say.
+
+“Perhaps we should call it Purgatory as there seem to be conditions or
+places which my friend cannot reach,” Elaine replied gravely, then, in
+a lighter tone, “I shall be in no hurry to make the change. I like life
+here pretty well, just Hugh and I and our work and the great outdoors,”
+and she gave her brother a hug which seemed to bring him back to
+himself.
+
+“Make it a trinity, take me into the circle, I implore,” I said
+earnestly.
+
+Elaine twisted Hugh’s face upward playfully so that she might see his
+eyes and said, “Perhaps we shall, Hughie, after he knows all about us,
+though our skeleton may scare him away back to Pennsylvania. I wish you
+would go on and tell Gordon the rest of our history; I shall stay and
+correct you, should you malign your infant sister too frequently.”
+
+Hugh promptly commenced. “I think I was telling you of this girl’s
+abnormality; the first signs, when the lamp went out. One evening
+in June, Elaine and a girl-friend were playing with a new toy, a
+planchette. For a time only undecipherable scribblings resulted, then
+there was written: ‘I wish to speak with Hugh.’
+
+“The girl came into the study calling: ‘Mr. Hugh, somebody on the
+planchette is calling for you.’
+
+“I answered, ‘Show him in, I am busy.’
+
+“Elaine then called me and the pencil certainly wrote, ‘I must give
+Hugh a message.’
+
+“‘I am not consciously guiding the thing,’ Elaine said, and while
+Alix, McFarlane and I looked on, the pencil wrote, but not in Elaine’s
+square-topped letters, rather more like a man’s handwriting, ‘Hallowed
+is dying. You are needed at Craighead Hall.’
+
+“McFarlane said, ‘Drop the dratted thing. It is a machination of the
+devil.’
+
+“I urged Elaine to try again but she could get only nonsensical things,
+some vile words, yet even these were a source of wonder to us as they
+could not have originated in the brain of my little sister.
+
+“That evening we were discussing the peculiarity of thought
+transference; McFarlane said she had been thinking about the old man at
+the Hall. We talked of Mesmer and his peculiar gift.
+
+“Elaine suddenly exclaimed, ‘Hugh, Hugh, look what the board has
+written; I wonder if I guided it.’
+
+“There it was in the same handwriting, ‘Tell Hugh, John Blank says
+Hallowed is dead. Hugh should come at once.’
+
+“We were mystified, did not think to ask any question of thin air. It
+would at that stage of inexperience and ignorance have seemed to all of
+us a silly proceeding.
+
+“We all, except McFarlane, tried the board with no result. Elaine,
+accused of hoaxing, was advised not unkindly by her sister to devote
+her energies to the piano or her books. We were always kindly toward
+each other and the incident evidently hurt this tender flower for she
+said nothing further about the planchette, though I learned later that
+during the month following she still played with the board.
+
+“One day there came a letter from one Alexander Douglas of Valleyford,
+saying that he had officiated at the burial of John Hallowed two days
+previously and was writing at the request of Lindsay Micklejohn who
+had worked under Hallowed.
+
+“I remembered Lindsay whose education was nil, my first thought being,
+‘How will he run the place? He cannot write.’
+
+“Alix was the first of us to hark back to the message. We compared
+dates, then stood looking stupidly at each other. Elaine had not said
+a word. Now she quietly told us that she had received many repetitions
+of the statement that Hallowed was dead, that she had asked aloud while
+alone as one of the messages came, ‘Where are you?’ and the pencil
+wrote: ‘Right here’ and described a lot of circles.
+
+“She went to her room and brought quite a number of sheets of paper,
+timidly, yet I thought feeling rather proud of her gift and gratified
+that the genuineness of the message had been established. She was in
+good health, though at times Alix chided her for not getting outdoors
+more. She looked pale and did not eat much.
+
+“McFarlane who came in as usual that evening was dumbfounded; I think
+he was more shocked than any of us. He kept his eyes on Elaine as
+though she was something set apart.
+
+“‘Uncanny,’ I heard him muttering to himself, and caught the words ‘a
+witch, that leetle young ane.’
+
+“Now came trouble. Elaine just would accompany me; all our joint
+protests were vain. Alix asked McFarlane to go with us. He protested
+that he could not go and added, ‘Neither can you, lass,’ and I was
+surprised to see the masterful Alix accept the verdict without protest.
+
+“Hysterics, oceans of tears, a fainting spell and the little minx had
+her way. My employers accepted my resignation, giving me a ‘to whom it
+may concern’ recommendation, carefully, I noted, weighing its wording
+so that no responsibility would rest on them should I go wrong. Bless
+them, theirs was a splendid school for a youth; the chalk-line was
+never permitted to fade and the work habit was taught every day.
+
+“We four were on the dock at Liverpool when McFarlane exploded his
+bombshell. He put his arm around Alix’ waist, held out his hand to me
+and said, ‘For sax year gane, Hugh, this wee girlie has been me wedded
+wifie; she wadna permeet me to tell.’
+
+“He was all excitement and as usual lapsed into his natural tongue.
+
+“‘Is it true?’ to Alix, was all I could say.
+
+“Yes, it was true; Alix exacted secrecy because she was the little
+mother to Elaine and myself; looking back now I think she mothered
+McFarlane also and did not wish our close relationship and happy home
+disturbed. I was glad; so was Elaine, that during my absence Alix had a
+protector, a man I liked; he seemed more like a father than a brother.
+
+“Elaine put her arms about her sister, cried a little, but
+incongruously said, ‘Now I shall have Hughie all to myself. You have
+James.’
+
+“After goodbyes had been spoken, Elaine aboard and I just about to
+step onto the deck of the lighter which was to carry us to the waiting
+ship, my newly found brother-in-law whispered in my ear while holding
+my hand, ‘Anoo ye’ll ken why Alix canna gae. Ye’ll hae a neephe an ye
+return.’”
+
+One of McFarlane’s injunctions laid when he knew I was going back to
+Canada was that I should immediately seek out John Blank, get his
+full history and relay it to him promptly. We had all settled on the
+theory that Blank had been able to project his thoughts through space
+into the mind of Elaine who automatically transcribed them. This
+theory was strengthened when Elaine informed us that she had discarded
+the planchette and wrote just as easily without it, but always in a
+handwriting different from hers.
+
+“The sea took its toll of both Elaine and myself. We were rejoiced
+after the long voyage to find ourselves with our two small traveling
+trunks at the station where fifteen years before I first saw a
+locomotive. A carriage and an express wagon conveyed us clear across
+the old-time swamp to Verde Island. A new corduroy road, while rather
+uncomfortable, was much better than walking.
+
+“Big Beaver, a shriveled old Indian then, and he is alive yet, deigned
+to take my hand, said ‘How’ and grimaced, one could scarcely call it
+smiled, at Elaine.
+
+“When well out in the river in the same canoe that had brought
+McFarlane and his sad tidings to us, Beaver said, ‘Where other girl?’
+
+“I told him about Alix and McFarlane, also who Elaine was, but it is
+difficult to say whether or not an Indian is interested. Beaver merely
+grunted and when we reached a point in the river where Elaine first saw
+the old pile of stone here, the Indian said, ‘She tip,’ as the child
+jumped to her feet with an ‘Oh, oh, that’s beautiful. I’ll never leave
+that wonderful fairy castle.’
+
+“I told her to sit quietly or we would never reach it.
+
+“Micklejohn was awaiting us, big, kindly, raw-boned fellow that he was.
+He sleeps beside Hallowed over on the ‘burnt hill,’ as we call it,
+drowned in a dare-devil attempt to shoot the rapids below the village.
+
+“I missed Hallowed, felt sad, but Elaine’s gladness cheered me. She was
+all over the house during the first few days; explored from cellar to
+garret, had to have explained how the water that comes out of the rock
+under the kitchen in a big stream is pumped by its own force through
+the use of an engine called a ‘ram’ set away back in a rock chamber.
+The water is raised to the stone tower on the west of the house and
+from there flows with some force throughout the whole place including
+the garden and stables.
+
+“On making an inspection of the vaults in which vegetables and fruit
+were stored, the third day after our arrival, I heard voices in the
+vault in which father kept his private boxes and papers and on looking
+in, found Elaine, the cook and the housemaid before the door of the
+inner vault which father had always kept locked. The cook had inserted
+the hooked end of the grate poker into a hole where a big brass bolt
+had served as a handle in pulling the massive stone door open.
+
+“‘What is in here, Hugh?’ Elaine asked.
+
+“I told her of its previous use and that it was empty and Micklejohn
+who was with me explained that he had found the lock broken but sprung;
+he had endeavored to get the door open and failed. The bolt had been
+removed, in the belief that by putting a hook through to the inside the
+lock could be forced, but the bolt went in only about six inches and
+the door was a foot thick. Elaine appropriated this vault as her own
+because of the inner door being closed.
+
+“Hallowed had added at least two hundred acres to the cleared land.
+There was quite a sum to my credit in the bank at Valleyford and over
+a thousand dollars in currency in the oak chest.
+
+“My first work was in identifying myself at the bank, accomplished
+without difficulty.
+
+“A week from the day I reached home I started in to comply with
+McFarlane’s injunction to interview John Blank.
+
+“I took the small canoe one afternoon and found my way through the back
+channel to Blank’s landing, somewhat in need of repair; walked slowly
+through the deep shade of the ash swamp and up through the rows of
+currant bushes, thinking how I would be met by the unfortunate man and
+the kindly wife and of what he would say to me.
+
+“I intended asking all about his wonderful gift of thought transference.
+
+“The house had that deserted appearance which chills the blood. I
+rapped on the door several times, called, ‘Mr. Blank.’
+
+“Not a sound. Somewhere out on the river a loon sent up its lonesome
+cry. It threatened rain. After a time I tried to open the door.
+Something held it firm. The window--I could see that a hickory peg
+slipped through a hole in the sash into the jamb, secured it. Finally
+I broke one of the small panes of glass, slipped my arm in and pulled
+the peg. I called again through the open pane. The door and window,
+being fastened from the inside, added to my conviction that the man was
+there, perhaps very ill, so I pushed open the window and managed to
+crawl through, letting it slip down into place as quietly as possible,
+though it made a disquieting noise.
+
+“The day was cloudy and though the room where I had once sat with Mr.
+and Mrs. Blank at dinner was in order, the light was dim. I felt like
+a burglar, called a couple of times, then opened the door of the south
+room where you found Haig.”
+
+Here Hugh stopped, looked at Elaine, who had been quietly sleeping
+for some time, looked at me, shifted his sister to a more comfortable
+position. I merely nodded and Hugh continued.
+
+“There was nothing but the little white dresser, bed and blue furniture
+there. Then I lifted the latch of the north room door. It was fastened
+from the inside. Placing a chair against the door I stood upon it and
+looked over the top of the partition; a long, square cornered box
+of cedar was on the floor, a small pine box, open and half full of
+something white resembling in the dim light flour or chalk stood close
+beside it and there was some of the white substance on the floor. The
+braided wool mat was covered with it. Otherwise the room was in order,
+the bed ‘made up.’
+
+“Nobody was in the house. I was about to withdraw, had even thought
+of the note of apology for housebreaking that I should leave with an
+invitation to come to the Hall, when my eye caught a piece of white
+paper tacked onto the top of the chest.
+
+“I swung over the partition and landed almost atop the small box. On
+the card, tacked at its four corners, I found written:
+
+  JOHN BLANK
+
+and underneath was the verse which you read on his tombstone the day
+we met. On a folded sheet of paper, slipped partially under the tacked
+card was written in bold though cramped handwriting,
+
+“‘Life is intolerable, sleep the only solace. There is no God of
+mercy, my life is proof positive. No more sorrow, no more yearning,
+only sleep. Why not sleep? This is my will and testament that all I
+possess shall be the property of one Hugh Craighead of Edinburgh,
+Scotland. I make no conditions but pray that he may make use of his
+vast inheritance in searching prisons for the unhappy victims of
+circumstances such as I, that they may have wrongs righted. Stranger,
+show mercy in death to one to whom mercy in life has never been shown.
+Bury me as I am.’
+
+“I never was a coward, yet some feeling other than horror took
+possession of me. I unbolted the bedroom door, fled across the outer
+room, raised the bar and swung the front door wide; getting outside was
+my first thought, for I did not doubt that the body of Blank was in the
+big chest and the thought unmanned me.
+
+“A thin misty rain was falling, but I sat head in hands on a crude seat
+fashioned from a section of a tree, unmindful; anything was better than
+this horrible house.
+
+“My inheritance. The pity of it, the poor fellow giving all he had to
+the boy who had not repulsed him, the deformed.
+
+“Then came unworthy thoughts. If a body was in that box, it could not
+be that of Blank for Elaine had caught his thought message. The message
+had said he was right there in Edinburgh. Probably he was there now,
+certainly this house had been closed for some weeks. The dust on my
+clothing attested this, but why this mockery, a hoax. I should find
+nothing alarming in the chest.
+
+“I applied a match to the carefully trimmed wick of a tallow dip
+sitting on the table, walked boldly into the room, examined the white
+substance. It was lime, but that spoke nothing. I took hold of the top
+of the chest, seemingly a loose lid as it overlapped the lower box,
+raised it while standing at the south end, perhaps a foot, then dropped
+it quickly, reeled from the room, ran from the house down through the
+garden and was in my canoe before I remembered the door. It was open.
+
+“Had the house been afire--perhaps it was as I had left the light on
+the little stand--I could not have forced myself back.
+
+“As I paddled my canoe over the long four miles through the quietly
+falling rain, night came and with it a sense of my responsibility as a
+citizen. The coroner must come. I must again see this awful evidence
+of a tragedy. Who but I, last in the thoughts of this man, should see
+his earthly house decently interred; but Elaine’s happiness must not
+be encroached upon. I must ride to the village. Lindsay would not do.
+Elaine must be made to think I had an urgent call, a veterinary for one
+of the horses; no, one of the men could go for such a thing as that;
+the night was bad; I had it--Smith up the river road had sent an Indian
+for me. Elaine did not know of my visit to the Blank place, otherwise
+she would have insisted upon accompanying me.
+
+“I found my little sister asleep on a divan, looking unusually pale; a
+book, the family Bible, was on the floor. There was also a couple of
+small sheets of my mother’s writing paper there and a pencil beside her
+hand. The paper was covered with that peculiar, perpendicular writing
+which I had not seen since we left Edinburgh. Hard to decipher but
+finally after repairing to my lighted room I traced the words: ‘Hugh
+must respect my request.’
+
+“Another line, ‘He will know. Hugh must keep secret.’
+
+“I did not attempt to read further but returned at once to Elaine’s
+room and quietly shook her. Wide-awake and wild-eyed she looked at me
+a second, then exclaimed, ‘My, what a terrible dream! Why should he
+follow me here?’
+
+“Gently I put an arm about her; told her she must stay out in the
+open air more. She replied, ‘I was out in the woods, just before the
+mist became rain. I was enjoying the quiet and the damp smell, when
+a feeling that I must return to the house came over me. I thought
+something might have happened to you, but when I reached my room I
+knew--you know the rest Hughie--and he seemed so anxious. The words
+just came into my head, repeated over and over. Don’t you see, Hughie,
+that the writing is just like that through the planchette? What is it?
+What does it all mean?’
+
+“‘Just a troublesome dream, child,’ was all I could say. I told her I
+must ride up to Smith’s on some urgent call or he would not have sent
+for me, sent the maid to her room and, supperless, rode out through the
+dark woods.
+
+“That was a long, hard ride. Village lights looked good when I reached
+the top of the last hill. My thoughts had not been friendly companions.
+I was disobeying a written request of the dead and Elaine’s writings
+troubled me. Somehow in the light of events, thought transference did
+not fit. The man, John Blank, was dead, had been, to my thinking, dead
+for weeks. I could not fathom it.
+
+“I sought out the doctor who served as coroner. He listened in silence
+to my story, then went to a cupboard in the corner of the office, took
+out a bottle, poured two generous portions of the contents, handed one
+glass to me saying, ‘Take another drink, young man, ’twill clear your
+brain,’ adding after he had swallowed the entire contents of his glass,
+‘Damn me if I believe a word of it; how could a man murder himself and
+put the body in a coffin? Put that under your belt and you’ll feel
+better.’
+
+“Alcohol and I were almost strangers but I took the doctor’s advice and
+drank most of the stuff. Scotch, he called it. The result was I heard
+the doctor’s voice as though from a distance saying that Sandy Campbell
+said that while hunting he had once seen Blank on the river, that some
+years ago somebody had said in the post office that he had seen Blank
+and a woman taking a train at Beauville, but he, the doctor-coroner,
+had never set eyes on him, did not really believe the county harbored
+such a person.
+
+“‘Why, he must have been either a ticket-of-leave man or an escaped
+criminal.’
+
+“Vaguely I gleaned that the doctor with some villagers would come to
+the Hall on the morrow, take boats and hold an inquest, should he find
+that I was sane and had seen what I stated.
+
+“Long after midnight I aroused a stable boy to care for my horse.
+The road home was heavy but the rain had ceased falling. I came in
+through the orchard way, slipped quietly into Elaine’s room, found
+her sleeping like a baby and retired, wondering if I had done right in
+summoning the official or if I should not rather have taken a spade,
+dug a grave and covered from an unsympathetic world all that was left
+of my friend John Blank.
+
+“They came next day about eleven o’clock, a joking, inquisitive lot.
+None had ever seen Craighead Hall. My father always stood aloof from
+the people of the village and township. To a man these seven were
+silenced when ushered through the front door. I felt a pang of regret.
+Father would have dined these yokels in the servants’ hall instead of
+here. To carry out the deception which I had practised on Elaine, we
+took fishing tackle in the boats. Micklejohn, I took into my confidence
+and he accompanied the jury with the doctor and myself.
+
+“The door stood ajar as when I had fled Blank’s house. The air was less
+oppressive than when I had entered the day before. The tallow dip,
+exhausted of fuel, had harmlessly burned the wick and gone out.
+
+“The coroner, erstwhile jocular and careless, became now the public
+officer, swore his jury of six, examined the room thoroughly, felt the
+lime in the box, rubbed it between finger and thumb, lifted, as I had,
+the box lid and closed it as quickly. The box was carried by the six
+men and placed on the dining table.
+
+“When the jury was seated, I read the letter, then made a plea that its
+request be heeded and that no further examination be made. I identified
+the body as that of John Blank. The old doctor merely shook his head,
+removed the lid of the chest and I turned my back and looked out the
+window through the long rows of current bushes down to the dismal
+black ash swamp and thought of the dead years that had passed since my
+memorable evening as a guest in this place.
+
+“‘Ingenious’ the coroner called it, could one believe the evidence of
+one’s eyes. Could any man deliberately prepare in this way to cut the
+thread of life, fashion out a box, fill it with quicklime, pile it over
+his person, keep at his side enough to fill out the spaces, leaving
+only a hand and face clear? The cover was doubtless kept up at the
+end where the head rested through the use of a neatly fashioned prop,
+fitting into a slight groove in the top of the right side of the box.
+A slight jar only was necessary to dislodge the prop permitting the
+cover to close down into place. The verdict was suicide by the taking
+of cyanide of potassium.
+
+“Inwardly I mentally apologized; the villagers were after all, kindly
+fellows, sobered and shocked. They volunteered aid in taking the body
+away from this almost inaccessible spot. Micklejohn and I led the sad
+procession of canoes homeward and we carried with us in our canoe all
+that was mortal of one of God’s creatures who was glad to exchange the
+certainties of life for the unknown beyond.
+
+“We did not go near the Hall. With the aid of the young men, we
+conveyed the remains to the little church on the main road, got the
+sexton to open the church door, but could not arrange for a plot of
+ground for burial.
+
+“Next day by appointment the six young men met us and for the first
+time I learned that God frowns on a suicide and that the sacred
+half-acre could not be his resting place. Indignant, I sought among
+the curious onlookers who had sprung from nowhere apparently, for the
+owner of the land adjoining the little cemetery, and pressing on him a
+banknote of such size that cupidity overcame disinclination, I secured
+the little six by ten plot where you found me. I declined the aid of
+the minister; helped dig the grave and without so much as a prayer laid
+to rest the stranger whose life was a living death, to whom death in a
+terrible form came as a relief.
+
+“I wrote McFarlane details of the matter, visited the county seat and
+found that the government had never given title to the Blank place.
+Through purchase I added over a thousand acres, good and bad, to my
+estate.
+
+“In due season a letter came from McFarlane urging me to comply with
+Blank’s request--fit up the farm as a refuge, apply my talent as a
+barrister, he called it, in releasing prisoners unjustly or overly
+punished--and enclosing a £5,000 draft.
+
+“I filled out the Craighead estate to its present proportions and while
+at the village one day purchasing material for the building of the
+surrounding fence, I sat in court and heard Haig and his companions
+sentenced. This decided me. I worked on Haig’s case first, but
+fruitlessly, until justice as the Canadians see it, was satisfied.
+
+“Many sad cases came to my attention. In five years I have given aid
+to nearly two hundred unfortunates. Some day the province will be
+moved to a sense of justice and we shall have a commission carrying
+on the work on a large scale. My work is insignificant. I must see
+our representative soon and secure his aid in the next sitting of
+Parliament.”
+
+Hugh interrupted his story here to look at Elaine who had moved
+uneasily and said, “Gordon, this child is more to me than sister. She
+seems to like you. Can’t you manage to spend the fall and winter with
+us?”
+
+My heart seemed to stop functioning. “This is my opportunity,”
+flashed through my brain, but the struggle for speech was apparently
+so strenuous that it attracted from Hugh a surprised glance at me.
+Haltingly I answered, “Nothing would please me better, provided my firm
+will let me off. They certainly sent me on a wild goose chase. Hogarth
+seems to have vanished into thin air from here and he stayed here only
+one afternoon.”
+
+“Perhaps if you arranged to spend a few months at the Hall you might
+by visiting the neighboring villages and railway points, even going to
+Montreal and Quebec, our foreign shipping ports, find some trace of the
+man. He certainly would eventually return to England,” Hugh said, then
+added, “I must get this youngster to bed. Fong has peeked in here twice
+to see what has become of his charge.”
+
+I offered to assist, but without knowing just how. Hugh,
+frail-appearing, just picked her up in his arms, saying, “I shall be
+back,” opened the panel and disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+I solved the mystery of the opening of the sliding door while Hugh was
+absent. As he had not used his hands, I tried out treading on different
+spots on a Persian rug lying in front of where the panel opened and
+was startled on planting my toe firmly on a tree pattern on the right
+hand side to see the wall glide to the right in front of me. Instantly
+removing the pressure, the panel slipped back into place but not before
+I had glimpsed in the shadows of the staircase the form of a man, dim,
+merely an outline, but certainly it was a man’s outline and nobody was
+there when Hugh had gone up those stairs a few moments ago.
+
+I was feeling for the particular spot on the tree pattern rug when
+Hugh opened the door of the library, evidently having used the front
+stairway. “You look startled,” he said as he came near where I was
+standing looking at the wall.
+
+“There’s a man in there,” I exclaimed. “I saw him when I stepped on the
+rug and the panel opened.”
+
+Hugh laid a hand on my shoulder and said in a quiet, even voice, “Don’t
+let these apparitions worry you, my friend. They come and go, but they
+can do you no harm. The dead roam at will. I have seen my father in
+this room since my return but have never had a word from him.”
+
+We sat in silence for a few minutes; Hugh deliberately filled his pipe.
+He had not smoked while Elaine was with us. I watched him spread the
+mouth of a deerskin tobacco bag, pour tobacco into the palm of his left
+hand, roll it, then fill a large English briar pipe.
+
+“My father’s,” he said, holding up the pipe before applying a match
+which gave out a blue flame as the sulphur burned. “Often I have
+watched father sit here and fill this pipe; he would sit for hours
+after mother retired and seldom spoke.”
+
+“Do you favor him or your mother?” I asked.
+
+“My mother,” he replied. “I have none of his features. He had a
+hawk’s beak of a nose and the high cheek-bones of a Scot. Mother sang
+beautifully.”
+
+There came a silence, then Hugh resumed reminiscently, “Father used to
+sing a doleful little song to us children. It ran thus,” and Hugh, in a
+deep low voice false in tone, sang,
+
+  “‘_There was a little dog and his name was Bopeep,
+     He waded in the waters so deep, deep, deep.
+     He climbed up the mountains so high, high, high,
+     And the poor little doggie had only one eye!_’
+
+“That’s the only song I ever heard father sing,” Hugh said, “but let
+me relieve your mind. I see you eyeing the panel,” and he walked over
+to the wall and the panel opened wide. There was nothing there but the
+little square at the foot of a stair going up to the right from the
+opening. Closing the panel, Hugh said, while resuming his seat, “Nature
+is peculiar. There is nothing between us in life and those whom we
+call the dead. People talk about a veil, as though a gauze, something,
+hung between. We make our own veil; we living ones; the other fellow
+can see us but we interpose the flesh, the earthly, the human part of
+us between our subconscious self, our silent guest, and the living
+entities who choose to make our home theirs,” adding, “Do you know,
+Gordon, the heathen Japs, the Shintoists who place food with their
+dead are nearer the truth than we Christians? We call them forefather
+worshippers. Nonsense! They venerate the spirit of their fathers,
+recognizing their existence.”
+
+“What about food placed on graves?” I asked.
+
+“Not without reason,” Hugh replied, “A reborn spirit carries with it
+enough of the fleshly life to set up a desire for sustenance; the
+emanations from food are sufficient, the use of the food itself is not
+expected. Many an old skinflint who has during his life grudgingly
+given of his plenty for the support of proselyting missionaries to
+Japan and China will have a great shock when the doctor has made his
+last guess and the minister has said his last prayer and he awakens
+to things as they are and many such fellows will try to find a medium
+through which he may warn his pet heir not to follow in his foolish
+footsteps, and squander his patrimony. Much better to use that money
+helping the unfortunates all about him,” Hugh added.
+
+“Shall we retire or do you wish me to go on with our history?” Hugh
+asked.
+
+“I could not possibly sleep a wink. Go ahead, you were telling me about
+hearing Haig sentenced and taking up your present work,” I responded.
+
+“Well,” Hugh commenced, “you of the city may wonder what there was for
+a girl of fifteen and a man grown, to interest them. Our servants fled
+when the nature of our ‘guests’ became known. The white-haired man,
+Stanton, was the first to come. Others followed. The cook and the maid
+quit as did gradually many of the farm hands. The ‘guests’ replaced
+them until after Micklejohn’s untimely death almost every member of my
+household, if I may so term them, was an ex-convict.
+
+“Did that alarm Elaine? No indeed. She and I enjoyed life in our own
+way. We canoed, fished, hunted. Many a bear and wolf has fallen to her
+rifle and the killing of our most dangerous pest, the wily lynx, was
+our greatest adventure. The wolves often chased deer across the ice to
+the great tamarack swamp up the river and we acquired many a wolf pelt
+in the deer path. Fall, with the whole river a sheet of glass before
+the snow came, found both of us skating for miles, exploring shorelines
+up to where the rapids made the ice dangerous and down seven miles to
+the rapids below us. We heard from Alix and McFarlane and in due time
+came news of a Hugh McFarlane, the promised nephew.
+
+“Constant exercise, pleasurable yet hard, toughened both my sister and
+myself. Neither of us knew fear though wild animals abounded, many like
+the gray wolf and the lynx, dangerous.
+
+“In the fall of our second year here, a matter of land title took me to
+Cobourg. The journey was shortened many miles through the use of the
+river road instead of the main thoroughfare through Valleyford, but
+night travel over the short cut was not safe. I thought to try it once
+as I wished to make home that night. There was no moon; no road, merely
+a bridle-path, but my mare was surefooted and we were within four miles
+of home before I heard anything worse than a wolf howl and the cry of
+lynx at a distance.
+
+“Something told me to turn in at the Smith cabin about five miles up
+the river, but I had promised Elaine that I would return that night, so
+I rode on into a stretch of dense timber where objects at arm’s length
+were undiscernible and I knew this particular stretch of wood as the
+haunt of numerous lynx. I was unarmed, except for a riding crop.
+
+“Cries like those of an infant in pain came from a point just passed,
+then an answer from directly ahead. My mare stopped short in her rapid
+walk, snorted and sprang sidewise, almost unseating me. At the same
+instant a great bulk catapulted from the limb of a tree overhead,
+alighting on the mare’s back just behind me. I could feel the horse
+flesh under me wince and in the same split second came a terrific shock
+from right shoulder to hip. The right hip was thrown up in my effort to
+retain my saddle when my mount had jumped to the right and the teeth
+of the brute had evidently missed a vital part as I could feel them
+tear through my flesh as the mare pivoted, again to the right, throwing
+the beast off and I lay low on her neck as she ran madly back over
+the road, dark as a pocket, through which we had just picked our way
+carefully.
+
+“The whole misadventure happened in less time than it takes to tell of
+it and in a few minutes I found myself at the door of Smith’s cabin,
+nearly a mile from the place of the accident; even before I half fell
+from the saddle I felt faint but attributed the feeling to excitement,
+but as I staggered to the cabin door I realized that my boot was full
+of blood and that I must have help quickly.
+
+“Smith opened the door as my hand reached it and I fell in, knocking
+a rifle from the hands of my host. You must know, Gordon, that my
+neighbors were always afraid of my ex-convict ‘guests.’ They could not
+believe in the harmlessness of the poor broken fellows.
+
+“‘A bad tear’ Smith called my wound. The paw of the lynx had scored me
+deeply from shoulder to thigh; that was nothing. The animal’s teeth had
+sunk to the bone of the right thigh and had torn clean out through the
+flesh and clothing and the rough surgery of my kindly neighbor did not
+effectually stop the loss of blood.
+
+“I wished to take a lantern and get on home in some way, but Smith
+bound me so tightly in strips torn from his cotton sheets that I could
+not move; while I slept and before dawn the good fellow rode my mare to
+the Hall and I awoke to find a couple of men standing over me in the
+little one-roomed cabin.
+
+“I had to be carried to the creek where two of my men in a canoe met us.
+
+“I am telling you of this incident, Gordon, as it marked a new phase in
+our lives at the Hall.
+
+“The men carried me to my room; I marveled that Elaine was not about,
+though Micklejohn said they had not disturbed her. One maid was still
+with us. I had her summoned and sent her to Elaine to say that I was
+home, had been detained through a slight accident but was all right.
+
+“The maid returned, wild-eyed, saying the Miss was lying on the floor
+with a lot of letters scattered about and could not be awakened. With
+the maid’s help I got to Elaine’s room and fainted from pain and
+weakness.
+
+“There the doctor found us and I shall never forget the shocked look
+in my sister’s eyes as she saw my ensanguined garments. The doctor had
+ministered only to me. She awoke as though from a troubled sleep, gave
+a little cry, pillowed my head in her lap and said, ‘I know all about
+it, Hughie. It is all written there. John Blank told me about your
+accident; that you were at the Smith cabin and a lot of other things
+before that. We must look into this thing when you are well, Hughie.’
+
+“I shall never forget that morning, Gordon. The mystery of the thing
+overpowered me. You must remember that Elaine had had, subsequent to
+the date of his body’s burial, no message from Blank.”
+
+As Hugh got to this point the clock in the great hall boomed the hour
+of midnight.
+
+“Shall we woo the gentle goddess Nephe?” Hugh said quietly. “I do not
+feel like going further with my story tonight; merely thinking of my
+lack of good sense during the days that followed will keep me awake for
+hours.”
+
+I breakfasted in my room, having learned from a silent young man, who
+had evidently been awaiting my awakening from an eight-hour sleep that
+“Mr. and Miss Craighead had arisen early and gone to inspect the work
+being done on an outlying farm.”
+
+I wrote my firm in Philadelphia asking for an indefinite leave of
+absence, that “I might search the vicinity for trace of the missing
+Hogarth.”
+
+The truth is, however, that I wished an excuse to prolong my visit at
+Craighead Hall. I even thought seriously of tendering my resignation
+and offering Craighead my services for what they might be worth. The
+work was to my liking but I knew while I wrote and reflected that I
+was lying to myself; that my great desire to stay on at Craighead Hall
+was actuated by one and only one thought--and I could not under any
+circumstances put that thought into words until I was better known to
+both Hugh and Elaine.
+
+At dinner that evening I heard about the new house on a farm, a mile
+or was it two or more miles away? My thoughts were not on farms and
+improvements. Could it be possible that the animated girl sitting
+opposite me had any affliction--certainly she showed no traces--seemed
+much interested in every subject under discussion and expressed genuine
+pleasure when I told of writing for a prolonged leave of absence from
+my office.
+
+“We shall have lots of fun gathering the annual crop of hazelnuts from
+the plains up the river, and I know you will enjoy skating when the
+ice first forms, it is so thrilling to feel it bend underfoot, though
+it is quite safe,” Elaine remarked and Hugh said, “Gordon, I wish you
+would consider seriously a proposition to become a member of the firm
+of Craighead and Montrose, two Scots, good and true, though Scotch
+people say I am more English than Scotch in my tastes and manners.”
+
+I answered that it would be difficult to drive me away just now
+and I ventured a glance at Elaine, alas, unconscious of my real
+meaning--though she did look at me slightly quizzically. I took it that
+she thought my remark merely politeness.
+
+I expressed a desire that Hugh should continue his story.
+
+Hugh looked at his sister saying, “Suppose we walk down by the river,
+the evening is so glorious. Will you come along, Elaine?”
+
+“Thank you, no,” Elaine said. “I must finish some sewing,” and
+turning to me, “You see, Gordon, young ladies must dress even in the
+wilderness. I think Fong is going to prove a good seamstress,” and
+curtseying in an old-fashioned way, as children sometimes do even
+today, she blew a kiss to Hugh and ran lightly up the path to the
+house. We had been dining in the little bower in the orchard.
+
+Hugh sent the man in for topcoats and presently we were at the pier. I
+suggested a quiet canoe ride and that I should wield the paddle. Hugh
+reclined on cushions forward. His eyes seemed to be searching out some
+spot in the starry heavens. Perhaps they saw nothing.
+
+We were on a lake of glass; the night was warm for September. Our house
+lights had disappeared. It was as though there were no other of God’s
+creatures within a thousand miles.
+
+Silence intense; the canoe drifted; I was startled when I heard Hugh
+say, evidently soliloquizing:
+
+“Guests star-scattered on the grass--the atheistic tent-maker. He
+believed and yet did not believe. Like all of us, his naturally
+searching soul was shackled through involuntary absorption of false
+interpretations of truths revealed, given cryptically, grudgingly it
+seems, as though the intention is that we shall use our own God-given
+intelligence; we must choose at the crossroads. Others may not furnish
+the finger-boards, though that is just what our numerous creedists are
+doing and what they were doing for old Omar. Graves arranged in the
+order of the constellations. What we term religion is probably co-eval
+with thinking man, yet how many different gestures we find in an
+identical purpose, worship of God.
+
+“Why should a Being Supreme demand worship--the thought implies a
+weakness in the all-strong. Laws, by whomsoever or by whatsoever Ruler
+or Force, laws under which man was brought from the lower form to his
+present estate, tried and not found wanting, demand respect, obedience,
+but servility--no! such a thought is repugnant. Perhaps old Moses
+slipped in the little line anent ‘bowing down and worshipping’ during
+the darkness between electric flashes on Sinai, just to make his own
+task easier. The Israelites of the Exodus differed little from the
+masses of religionists of today. They required a good scare to keep
+them in line.”
+
+Hugh suddenly sat upright and addressed me.
+
+“Gordon, I am going to tell you a strange story--the real history of
+John Blank, covering a decade or more of his life. The terrible method
+adopted in his passing out and the mental anguish entailed in the
+contemplation are as nothing compared with the man’s sufferings during
+the period which I shall cover. Every word that I shall say to you I
+implicitly believe and so will you, Gordon, when I tell you how the
+story came to me.
+
+“The wound made by the teeth of the lynx was slow in healing; it was
+three months before I left my room. Those were momentous months.
+Neither Elaine nor I knew that we were saddling upon her a burden
+seemingly impossible of removal. We knew nothing about what is called a
+medium--one through whose peculiarly attuned subconscious messages from
+those known as the dead are transmitted to the living. We knew nothing
+about the danger to the medium of the loss of his or her personality or
+that reason itself is endangered through such practice. We learned in
+time that the work affects the medium’s health distressingly but we
+could not quit--every word of this history was written by Elaine while
+under a mental stress which neither she nor I could explain.
+
+“At first her appearance was merely such as undue excitement would
+naturally produce. As the daily seances continued into weeks, months,
+she gradually paled, faded, lost her appetite, her interest in
+everything except this one obsession.
+
+“The culmination was six months of serious illness, until spring came
+and I carried her to this canoe and spent weeks, in fact, the whole
+summer, in diverting her mind. Gradually youth won back; lapses were
+infrequent, but, friend Gordon, she is still in danger and somehow I
+feel that in sharing with you our troubles, we shall find relief--”
+
+Hugh paused because I had impulsively reached forward and grasped
+his hand, stammering, “With God’s help, Hugh, we shall save her--I
+love her--give her to me. We can travel to cities where there must be
+psychiatrists who have cured other cases.”
+
+Hugh looked nonplussed.
+
+“Gordon,” he said, taking my hand, “I never dreamed the slightest thing
+about your caring for my little sister. She is only a child; have you
+spoken to her?”
+
+“Not a word; I would not dare, yet,” I replied, “I want your assent; I
+shall stay here until I win her.”
+
+Hugh made no reply for so long a period that I doubted the wisdom of
+my impulsiveness. Then he said, “You know, Gordon, I am my sister’s
+only guardian. I like you. I do not know much about you--but I like
+you. You will not object to my investigating you. I have the means in
+Philadelphia. Supposing we let it rest here.”
+
+Then, after a pause, “I never thought about Elaine’s marrying--I shall
+never marry. My chosen work shall be my spouse. Better not say anything
+to Elaine. She likes you but I’ll warrant no thought of marriage has
+ever entered her head.”
+
+My reply was the answer of Jacob to his uncle Laban--“Seven years or
+twice seven would be a short term to serve.”
+
+Hugh said then, “You must hear Blank’s story. Elaine and I are, in some
+way as yet unknown, involved. There is some connection as McFarlane
+has urged further questioning--urged without knowing what it means to
+Elaine; that we learn more of Blank’s early life--says it is important
+to all of us--though I cannot conceive why.”
+
+I replied to Hugh, “I shall be patient, and I shall not interrupt while
+you proceed,” and Hugh lay back on the cushions and resumed his recital:
+
+“My sister who always hated a lie, told me just after the surgeon had
+left me, sewed, plastered and strapped, on my back in bed, that she was
+sitting up awaiting my return from Cobourg when she became possessed
+with a desire to write a message that repeated itself in her brain; she
+was in her room, her account-book was at hand. You see she was trying
+to become of use to me in the handling of the place.
+
+“The first message she involuntarily wrote was, ‘Hugh is at the Smith
+cabin and will not be home tonight.’
+
+“She said she cried aloud, ‘Why?’ and into her brain one word at a
+time came the answer, she received just as a stenographer receives
+dictation, without knowing the full message until she had written:
+
+“‘Hugh has met with an accident, not serious, will not be home tonight.’
+
+“Remember my sister knew at the time that John Blank was dead but we
+had not reasoned as to date or thought about the message that came the
+day I found his body.
+
+“Elaine said she talked with John Blank; wrote the incredible
+information that he had been with me in the woods--had been with me all
+day; had endeavored to influence me to stop at the Smith place before
+entering the wood; could not get the warning message to me; that had
+she been with me he could have told her--every detail of the incident
+in the inky darkness was there before me, written in that peculiar
+vertical-stroke writing.
+
+“Some of the messages were repeated and Elaine wrote in for me the
+questions asked. I was convinced. No person on earth could have been
+privy to the circumstances set forth; in fact, I could not have
+furnished details more exactly.
+
+“Elaine had slept through sheer exhaustion. At daybreak she had
+awakened, excitedly re-read the messages, seized paper and pencil and
+feeling weak, returned to her bed, called aloud, ‘Mr. Blank, are you
+here?’
+
+“Promptly the pencil wrote, ‘Yes,’ and circled in a score of minute
+circles, then wrote, ‘All is well.’
+
+“A sort of obligation, a relationship into which gratitude entered
+largely, established itself in Elaine. She had lost all embarrassment
+at questioning aloud and seemed to regard her correspondent as somebody
+really existing.
+
+“Elaine had drawn a couch to my bedside on the following evening and
+while again reading the messages, suggested that she get in touch with
+and ask Mr. Blank any questions I wished to propound. The minx had
+paper and pencil with her and asked, at my suggestion, ‘How were you
+mutilated?’
+
+“The pencil wrote, ‘The events were too terrible.’
+
+“From that moment I urged Elaine to get his history and before we
+realized it, hours had passed. Strange things were being set forth
+on the many sheets of paper that fell from the hands of Elaine. As
+darkness clouded my bedroom I thought I could see behind Elaine a
+shadowy form. My mind pictured John Blank as I had seen him in the
+flesh; but there was no repugnant feeling for the distorted, mutilated
+face. I felt only a great surge of pity, even though I did not know at
+that time all that had been written.
+
+“We both became absorbed in the story as it unfolded and I feel shame
+in saying that I failed to interrupt as my sister’s face became drawn
+and colorless. She worked until exhausted and slept or at least seemed
+to sleep. I also slept, I think with the aid of the drug administered
+by the surgeon.
+
+“For weeks this was repeated until we had the entire story and I
+laboriously wrote it out for transmission to McFarlane while still
+confined to my bed.”
+
+Hugh sat up in the canoe and looked shoreward.
+
+“We have drifted past the landing,” he said, and I took up my paddle
+and turned the boat about.
+
+“Shall we go in? I’m afraid my sister may be waiting for us,” and as I
+gently propelled the light little craft upstream, Hugh mused, rather
+than spoke to me, “The living dead do not seem to differ much from the
+living. They seem to hold on to what we regard as the shortcomings of
+the flesh--even to a show of cunning in evading questions which they
+do not or cannot answer; in short they are just what they were in
+the body--no better, no worse--but with the ability, apparently, of
+moving with the velocity of light or electricity. It would appear that
+we are, dead, of the same mental calibre as when living, apparently
+a little more subdued, a little awed, as though aware of a loss of
+something possessed when alive in the flesh.
+
+“There was nothing assertive, nothing to indicate a greater nobility
+such as we are accustomed to attributing to our dead throughout Blank’s
+recital of his misfortunes. This case may be exceptional; the man was a
+suicide and this has been my only experience. I may err in estimating
+the changes ordained by nature for every living creature. There are,
+doubtless, degrees of intelligence and perhaps station.”
+
+As the boat quietly glided alongside the pier, Elaine, with a cheery
+hallo of welcome, came running down the parkway from the house and
+walked between Hugh and myself. I could feel the warmth of her body
+as we strolled houseward, or was it the quickening of my own blood
+circulation through accelerated heart-beats as I thought, “Now there is
+another holding my secret.”
+
+But Hugh gave no sign.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+I was awakened by the yelping of hounds; my windows, extending to the
+floor, were open. As I stepped out onto the veranda in front, Elaine’s
+silvery laugh floated up. I peered through the railing and backed into
+my room for obvious reasons, not wishing to be seen, dressed as I was.
+
+I had seen the young lady running down the pathway to the river with a
+half-dozen of the long-eared, slack-lipped brown man-chasers bounding
+about her. The dogs were evidently getting a scent from the blue jacket
+which she carried in her hand, as during the momentary view which I
+had, they started running ahead of her and the tone of each held a
+different note from the yelp of play; a sinister sound meaning business
+I determined, and I dressed hastily thinking something was amiss,
+notwithstanding the evident cheerfulness of my little hostess.
+
+The dogs had gone upshore, I was certain and as I reached the water’s
+edge, I saw Elaine’s white dress a quarter of a mile away; its contrast
+with the fringe of green spruce trees bordering the waterfront
+rendered any mistake impossible. She was evidently standing still but I
+could not make out what it was all about. I reached the point which I
+had marked but she had vanished.
+
+I stopped running as a most choice jumble of Pidgin English, Cantonese
+and possibly other varieties of Chinese epithets met my ear.
+
+In the precarious upper crotch of a wild cherry tree, looking down, his
+usually sallow face empurpled, his eyes like twin moons at the full;
+indignation, joy or fear, I could not determine which, was the moving
+cause until it suddenly occurred to me that Fong’s little missie was
+evidently having some sport at his expense.
+
+Seriously I called, “What is the matter, Fong?”
+
+“Mlatta, mlatta,” came irritably from the Chinaman, “Plitty soon mad
+dogs eat this Chinaman plenty up.”
+
+I asked where Miss Elaine had gone and Fong pointed out through the
+spruce thicket, “Mlissie, dogs all gone same way; soon Fong come down,
+Mlissie say,” and I gathered that the young lady was prone to amuse
+herself as though no black cloud hung about. Youth irrepressible,
+flaring up, had brought about Fong’s discomfiture.
+
+He had depreciated the dogs’ ability--in his opinion their most useful
+occupation was meat-eating and Elaine was proving him in error by
+running him to cover and then she had called off the hunt and informed
+Fong that he was at liberty after a half-hour or so.
+
+Should I walk back with Fong or should I follow the little path through
+the thicket and walk with Elaine? Was it timidity of the dogs? A
+quarter-mile walk with her--it was worth the venture, though I doubted
+not I stood a good chance of being eaten alive by the brute escort.
+My hesitation was only momentary. I plunged into the dense fringe of
+spruce and walking rapidly soon came out into a more open wood, where
+hickory and butternut trees abounded.
+
+She was on her knees before a great tangle of hazel bushes and I
+stopped just for a second--“What shall I say or do?”
+
+She arose, her white skirt gathered by her left hand into a receptacle
+for the hazelnuts which she was gathering.
+
+A little startled scream; the skirt fluttered from her fingers and the
+gathered hazelnuts piled in a scattered heap on the ground.
+
+“A thousand pardons--the picture was so charming--I’m sorry,” I
+stammered.
+
+The startled look left Elaine’s eyes.
+
+“There,” she laughingly said, “You may retrieve my treasures. I had
+just commenced picking. Did you see anything of poor Fong?”
+
+“Yes,” I replied, “Up a tree.”
+
+She laughed heartily, throwing her bare white arms up in an effort to
+adjust some little strands of dark gold, disarranged in the flight
+after the hounds.
+
+“That China boy is a dear; he will never again doubt the usefulness of
+my canine friends; was he still afraid?”
+
+“Could not be persuaded to come down for half an hour.”
+
+Then she said, “I hope I have not really alarmed him; let us return and
+take him back to the Hall.”
+
+I ventured a protest; could see my chances for a walk with her in the
+balance. I was busily stuffing prickly husks into the patch-pockets of
+my Norfolk when Elaine asked, “Why up so early this morning?”
+
+It was not the words. Something in the quizzical tone, the look, the
+thought that back of the question was an interest meant much at that
+moment.
+
+“Your laugh pulled me right across the veranda, over the rail, right
+up to Fong’s perch,” I replied, and she said, archly, “Do I laugh so
+rarely that it has such a terrible effect on our friends?”
+
+Then she laughed gaily and for one glorious hour before we reached the
+Hall I watched her every word and mood for indication of interest in me
+or a motion that might be interpreted into something deeper than the
+sentiment called friendship.
+
+When we entered the house, loaded with floral trophies, wild and
+tame, I was still wholly in the dark as to whether or not this girl
+had ever given me a thought other than as a guest of her brother--her
+brother--that was it; he seemed to be her great, her only interest--her
+heart was his and no other man had as yet made even a dent in it--yet I
+was not discouraged.
+
+I decided I would spend the winter at Craighead Hall. My excellent
+chances with my firm at home might go hang; for one hour,
+responsibility was cast aside; there was for me only one desideratum.
+
+That day and evening, Elaine was brilliant, joyful; her beautiful,
+expressive eyes fairly danced. One could not bring oneself to believe
+that she ever had a care or an anxious thought. I fervently offered a
+silent supplication to the great God in heaven that she should always
+be just as she was that night.
+
+Under the wideflung branches of a lone giant maple atop the big hill to
+the west, Hugh resumed his story.
+
+Not a word had been spoken as we leisurely tramped up the river’s
+edge, out through a fringe of woods, across a cultivated field, then
+up, up by a zigzag pathway, little used, to the hill’s crest. Hugh
+was unusually preoccupied; he walked the last stretch ahead of me and
+seated himself on a bank of green. Pretty well winded by the climb, I
+threw myself down a few feet from him.
+
+Faintly then floated up to us the voices of rivermen in song. They were
+taking in the booms used during high water when lumber drives were
+floated down the river.
+
+With chin resting on the palms of both hands and elbows on his knees,
+Hugh sat pensively looking out across his demesne of field and forest
+to where the castellated hall of the Craigheads, a set diamond in a
+circle of greenery, gleamed white in the evening sunlight.
+
+Suddenly he broke the silence.
+
+“I do not wonder,” he said, “that my father objected to my reading
+Voltaire. This is where I read _La Pucelle_--what a terrible impression
+of the saintly Joan it leaves with you! What an egoist Voltaire was and
+yet what a great mind! He thought independently, fearlessly. How he
+ridiculed religion! His satire was cutting. Religion, a contradictory
+emotion--dying, tortured, hundreds of thousands miserably perishing on
+rack and in dungeon because of a belief.
+
+“What do we Christians really believe? That God Almighty threw the
+unlimited universe--or at least our solar system--out of gear that a
+thieving band of unwashed nomads might have light for their massacre of
+tens of thousands of women and innocent children?
+
+“This is anthropomorphizing God with a vengeance, but the Israelite
+could not look higher than the wandering old Arab Abraham or the
+cunning Jacob, a wily trader, but God’s chosen who easily outwitted his
+crafty uncle! That’s a long way back, Gordon, but the faith and the
+trait survive--we need religion, ready-made. Hundreds of millions are
+comforted by it, whether Christian, Mohammedan, Shinto, Buddhist or
+Voodoo, and all, even you my friend, come within its control.
+
+“What is your idea of God? For years I carried in my head the picture,
+a woodcut of a stern-visaged old man with whiskers. I saw it in the
+kirk at White’s Corners when a wee lad. I can see it even now, yes, and
+hear the old dominie thunder out a denunciation of the ‘use of stringed
+instruments.’
+
+“Ezra was a plagiarist, Babylon, his birth-place, borrowed from the
+Persian Vedas its story of Adamus and Procriti, antedating Moses
+fifteen hundred years, and Ezra borrowed from Babylon to furnish a
+beginning to our book of books on which all our hope of heaven is
+founded. Borrowed its garden on the Tigris but shifted to a different
+locale, characteristically purloining the snake, the tree and all,
+but the versatile Babylonian Jew, contrary to the ancient Babylonian
+teaching, made a transposition of personages; he pictured man in the
+image of God instead of the reverse.
+
+“I do not feel, Gordon, that Mr. Ezra improved things; I cannot
+conceive of God as a man; that is debasing to a low level a Power--the
+marvelous something ruling the limitless universe with its intelligent
+laws. There is a Supreme Power. Call it God or Law, it is in every
+soul, in every breath that sustains life and in every spirit even after
+the great transformation.
+
+“The old Persian version was better; man could draw his own picture,
+make his God as beautiful, as sympathetic, as consoling as the case
+demanded, but Ezra, abetted by Moses’ ideas, left us only the jealous,
+vengeful Jehovah to appease and to worship through groveling. God is in
+everything. The law plays no favorites; observance brings our meed of
+happiness, health of mind and body; infraction brings the reverse.
+
+“I wonder what unfortunate cross-current my poor friend Blank ran
+counter to that he should have had such an existence on earth and yet
+should find no happiness in the spirit.
+
+“Gordon,” said Hugh, lying back on the grass, “The life history of
+John Blank as revealed through his messages to Elaine is incomplete; I
+can give you only that part of the picture showing him a man married
+and having one child, a girl, two years of age. The canvas to the
+left of this point is blank. Doubtless many incidents were scamped in
+the fragmentary recital because our sessions--or shall we call them
+seances--were necessarily interrupted for sleep and meals--details,
+often amplifications, interested Elaine, who did most of the
+questioning and, of course, all of the writing; consequently, I shall
+tell you perhaps more than is necessary for the satisfying of your
+curiosity as to how Blank was mutilated and how he happened to become
+our neighbor.
+
+“Elaine drew his tale from him reluctantly, it seemed to both of us,
+because he told of his sufferings during days of recitals before we got
+to the beginning of his troubles, but I have collated and arranged the
+story in regular sequence as to time and events.
+
+“Blank’s home was not many miles from Southampton, England. His
+father had been a rich landowner; both father and mother dead, a
+sister two years his junior, a wife and child as I have told you. He
+was apprehended on the Strand in London and imprisoned, charged with
+murder, would not admit his guilt, nor could Elaine or I obtain from
+him a denial. He was tried in the Old Bailey, made no defense, his
+counsel pled for mitigation and the judge sent him to Tasmania--he
+called it Van Diemen’s Land--for life.
+
+“After sentence, his mind benumbed, he found himself aboard the convict
+ship Success. His cell was so small and crowded that he could scarcely
+stand upright; a chain with a heavy iron ball was attached to his right
+ankle. The night was cold and rainy and the ship tossed about as it
+made its initial step in the long voyage half around the world.
+
+“Insensibility mercifully blotted out his first agonies. Harsh voices
+aroused him; dawn had come.
+
+“‘Up on deck’ was the order and as the door of his den was thrown open
+he gathered the ball and chain in his arms and joined a procession in
+the enclosed way leading forward. On deck he stood in line watching in
+horror the hideous work going on.
+
+“A nauseous odor reached even down the companionway--burning flesh. He
+could not appreciate that men could do such awful mischief to man. The
+open deck was an inferno. Guards with cutlass and gun were all about.
+Two furnaces, red-hot, were having thrust into them branding irons. Men
+stripped to the waist were being thrown on the deck; irons were plucked
+out of the furnaces glowing and pressed to the palm of the right hand
+and to the back of each prostrate man, leaving a livid arrow where
+white flesh had gleamed.
+
+“Some screamed, many fainted, all were dragged to their feet, walked or
+were carried forward.
+
+“Blank’s time came; his coat, vest and shirt were torn off; even then
+he did not appreciate that such indignity could be put upon him--him,
+the scion of an honorable house, delicately reared, highly educated--he
+was lying on his face; a blow behind the ear had ended an attempt to
+resist; no feeling accompanied the burning.
+
+“He found himself on the foredeck, still on his face, his back wet with
+salt water which was being thrown indiscriminately on the score or
+more victims lying near.
+
+“Bread and water only were served him. On the third day out he was
+again hustled on deck, a slip-noose passed around both wrists, then
+drawn up to a triangle, and he was lashed with a cat-o’-nine-tails
+until the blood ran down his back, then immersed in a tank of saltwater.
+
+“He marveled that he stood a daily repetition of this scourging; tried
+to die as he saw many a strong man succumb, the body being pitched
+overboard. Sharks followed the ship on its tedious voyage and few days
+passed without the consignment of some fortunate to their mercy. The
+flogging was a regulation; it was imposed on all life prisoners.
+
+“Six months or so later, the prisoner who had, from a wish to die,
+passed to a hunger to kill, locked in his filthy den with three others,
+felt the ship come to anchor.
+
+“Hours later he heard the voices of his brutal keepers ordering all
+men to line up for debarkation. His door was thrown open. Both hands
+carried the thirty-pound ball as he stepped into line upon deck, over
+the ship’s side--the earth again underfoot.
+
+“Then between files of guards, a wabbling march, legs refusing to
+properly function.
+
+“The march seemed endless. Then through a postern, a large yard, into a
+gloomy hall, when nature defaulted and he sank to the stone floor.
+
+“Dimly he could feel lashes applied to his back, but all sense of
+suffering was absent. He revived to find himself in a stone cell, a
+plank for a bed, though he was then on the floor. A window, barred,
+but at least twelve feet from the floor, threw a dim slanting light on
+the cold gray wall. This was home--a six by eight room, but Paradise
+compared with the cell on the ‘Success.’
+
+“An officer with two subalterns stood in the cell; one had a book, the
+other a gun and sword. As Blank endeavored to arise, the officer said,
+‘Name and previous station.’
+
+“‘John Blank--’ was as far as he got, and the name was so recorded. He
+fainted through pain and weakness.
+
+“Days of stupor followed but after a time he took his place with the
+other convicts on the stone pile with a hammer; guards all about, ever
+watching for an infraction of regulations; ever ready to lash out with
+a heavy black bull hide whip if labor was not incessant, or if one
+convict as much as exchanged a sign with another.
+
+“Month after month of this until, his health restored, his vigor
+regained, he commenced to entertain thoughts of escape.
+
+“One day a convict near Blank, while working with head bowed over his
+pile of stone whispered, ‘My last week; I sail on the next boat.’
+
+“Blank whispered back, ‘£1,000 if you will take a message to my
+sister,’ at the same time looking involuntarily toward his neighbor.
+
+“A guard back of them plied his whip over both backs.
+
+“A flat piece of stone was the medium of communication. Secreting it in
+his clothing, he managed, while in his cell by the use of the tongue on
+his belt-buckle to scratch on the stone, ‘Pay £1,000, Bring ship,’ and
+his sister’s address.
+
+“Hiding the stone, he managed to slip it to the other convict while in
+the yard, but in so doing, lost his place in the line. A guard noticed
+his effort to regain his assigned position and he drew a month at
+the barrow transferring crushed stone. Dozens of other convicts were
+similarly punished for slight infractions of prison rules.
+
+“For a month at a stretch, then back to breaking stone, then for
+another month, he made one of six men to strain on a tread-wheel used
+to turn the gears of a mill, walked hundreds of miles without advancing
+three feet because he answered in kind when called an offensive name by
+a guard.
+
+“The work in six-hour stretches toughened and the better fitted him for
+the enterprise always in his mind--escape at any risk. The thought of
+escape kept him alive.
+
+“Six months passed with no sign from his sister. One day while working
+in the woods he overheard two guards discussing the arrival of a
+strange ship bound for Australia, blown out of her course. She had
+taken on fresh water, but after staying in port until ordered out, she
+continued to cruise back and forth within view of shore.
+
+“Blank dragged the thirty-pound ball attached to his ankle nearer
+and nearer to the fringe of woods, ostensibly to roll out cut logs
+just felled. Suddenly he picked up the ball and made a dash into the
+thicket. A bullet stung his shoulder but he ran for an hour, ran until,
+through loss of blood, he became faint, halted to staunch the blood
+flow and heard the baying of hounds. He brained one of the dogs with
+the cant-hook which he still carried but the balance of the pack had
+him on his back in a moment.
+
+“Next morning, trussed up to a triangle in the jail enclosure, with
+two hundred prisoners looking on, he received forty lashes from a
+cat-o’-nine-tails and scarcely felt any pain when a guard passed a
+lancet down the left side of his head, completely shearing off his ear.
+
+“Days unrecorded and without care, for hope had fled, passed in a dark
+cell, then one day he was driven, chained in a gang of six, away from
+the prison. Whisperings in prison told of a terrible place from which
+there was no chance of escape.
+
+“There was a narrow spit of land jutting out into the ocean, a neck
+about one hundred and fifty yards across guarded by a barracks house,
+two smaller guard-houses, all of stone and beyond, chained so that
+their muzzles almost met, were two rows of ferocious dogs--bull and
+mastiff.
+
+“The prisoners were marched through a gate between the buildings, the
+dogs were held back and Blank found himself one of a company of perhaps
+one hundred men all of whom had lost one or both ears; still carrying
+the iron ball, but free to mingle with his miserable companions.
+
+“The freedom of the open space was a joy; no restraint as to speaking.
+The retreat was safe--man-eating sharks infested the water on all
+sides and there was not a stick of timber on the little peninsula
+sufficiently heavy for use in making a boat.
+
+“A shelter of stone one story in height housed about half of the
+prisoners; the others lived in the open, in the broiling sun, except
+for caves dug in the sand, into which they crawled.
+
+“Blank and his five companions slept on the sand the first night, then
+through the attraction of like for like, he paired off with a man about
+fifty years of age, a college man, a physician, there for murder which
+he denied having committed.
+
+“They dug a pit near the outer point of the spit, using a part of their
+clothing to hold the sand in place. Then commenced the task of wearing
+away the links in the chains attached to their legs.
+
+“Months passed in this way. Finally they were both free of the iron
+ball but still carried the iron bracelets on their ankles and the
+tedious work of relieving themselves of these irons was a not unwelcome
+task; it kept mind and body in action.
+
+“Bread, water and meat, twice a week, placed within the line of dogs,
+kept them alive.
+
+“An organization of the prisoners had been formed; a hierarchy of the
+most desperate; despotic but effectual, at least insofar as proper
+distribution of food and the keeping clean of their small world was
+concerned. A patrol of guards, twenty in number, inspected the camp
+twice a week but no smaller number ever ventured inside the line of
+animals.
+
+“Killings among the prisoners were common and passed unnoted
+apparently. This devoted colony contained the very worst of the
+condemned desperadoes of Tasmania. No man who passed onto the spit had
+ever left there alive. Attempts to rush the guards had met with failure
+and served as an excuse for the lessening of the country’s burden
+through the shooting down of all participants.
+
+“The seemingly unguarded mainland less than a thousand yards away was
+ever in Blank’s mind. How to get there was his problem. He could swim
+it, but the tribe of finny sentinels showed a dorsal and a great swirl
+if so small a thing as a meat-bone was tossed from shore.
+
+“A year went by; the doctor and Blank had hidden away in their cave a
+mattress of reeds and bits of flotsam gathered from the shore at night.
+When tried in the water, it would support only one man; they drew
+straws and Blank won.
+
+“On a moonless night with wind blowing across the point and slightly
+inshore, Blank said goodbye to his companion who shoved the raft off.
+
+“Lying on his flimsy support he aided the light wind through using his
+hands as paddles, frequently having to jerk them out of the proximity
+of a shark’s teeth as they sported all about him.
+
+“He drifted ashore just at dawn about five miles from Eagle Hawk Neck,
+his recent home and found a company of musketeers awaiting him.
+
+“Roughly handled by a petty officer he was glad of a two-day respite in
+a windowless dungeon.
+
+“On the third morning at daybreak they led him back of a guardhouse,
+whipped him into insensibility and he awoke inside the line of dogs
+with his friend the doctor bandaging a hand with strips torn from a
+shirt--all the fingers of both hands had been cut away, deep gashes
+were in both cheeks and the other ear was missing.
+
+“Despair possessed him; his spirit was crushed.
+
+“Could the wife and child whom he had last seen; could they ever again
+look upon him with anything but loathing if he escaped? That head
+without ears--grotesque--those livid scars on face--those stumps which
+once were shapely hands.
+
+“He kept no record of time. Years passed. The doctor died and he
+guarded his dugout alone. The chains and leg circlets provided him a
+much treasured weapon.
+
+“Strange how death passed him by. For months he longed for an end to
+his mental agony but the body was strong. He became an officer of the
+‘Society of the Damned,’ as their organization was named.
+
+“Gradually, in whispers, a plot to rush the guards was hatched. Almost
+the entire colony was enrolled in the movement. A few of the weaker
+ones were not invited to participate and they were kept in ignorance of
+what was afoot.
+
+“Death sure and swift was agreed upon as the price of any act tending
+to divulge the plan.
+
+“Six months after the first meeting of the conspirators all had been
+provided with weapons, mainly a stone to be tied in a trouser leg or
+shirt; nakedness adding to chances of swift running; some with sticks
+and many with shackles hidden carefully away underground--a precious
+possession.
+
+“They patiently awaited a propitious night. With a gale blowing from
+the sea driving sheets of rain toward the barracks, the only thing to
+give warning the bright flashes of lightning, the Chief sent out his
+call and over eighty half-naked men lined up at the outer end of the
+prisoners’ quarters.
+
+“All knew that the chances of success were slight, but few of
+these men even dreaded the shock of a bullet or the quick stab of a
+bayonet--either was preferable to suicide.
+
+“An earless man, almost a giant, the leader, armed with a camp poker,
+stepped alongside Blank and according to arrangement previously agreed
+upon, the company divided into a line on either side of the long
+building and while stooping low, formed two wedges. Blank and the giant
+formed the point of the left wedge and all went forward in the darkness
+across the hundred yards or so of space between the building and the
+dogs.
+
+“The howling of the wind, the downpouring rain and the almost constant
+roll of thunder would, but for the dogs, have made success easy.
+
+“Fifteen feet or more from the double line of bull and mastiff--a sharp
+warning bark told of discovery--instantly every man rushed forward.
+A rifle cracked. A quick swing of his weapon, another, and Blank was
+through the line of dogs, the leader beside him--they knew the weakest
+spot--the gate. Scattering spurts of flame showed that the guards were
+firing but thunder drowned the reports.
+
+“A soldier stood before the gate, his gun at present. Blank heard a
+loud ‘Ah!’ from his companion as the gun flashed--all while a streak of
+lightning made things near at hand momentarily visible. A swing of the
+chain with two shackles at the end and the soldier went down. Then he
+was over the gate and running. He was alone.
+
+“The sound of regular volleys and scattering shots came back on the
+wind serving only to urge him to greater speed. He made for the sea,
+ran in shallow water for a mile or so, followed an inlet to a creek up
+which he waded until it entered a thicket so dense that he could swing
+himself from one tree to another and traveled thus until daylight came.
+
+“Rain was still falling. He prayed that it might continue and wash away
+the scent. The trees were getting larger; one served him as a resting
+place while he ate the chunk of meat carried in a trouser pocket.
+
+“Coatless, hatless and with bare feet, he was, nevertheless, exultant;
+the fate of the others did not concern him. The years had made of the
+English gentleman a something akin to the most dangerous of brutes. One
+thought obsessed him--escape--the life of anything tending to thwart
+his purpose was forfeit.
+
+“He must have walked over a hundred miles, going ahead by night, hiding
+by day, feeding like the animal he had become, on roots and berries.
+
+“He reached a broad river and skulked through the wood well away from
+its bank, toward the mouth, knowing that it must lead to the sea.
+
+“He made a wide detour when smoke indicated the presence of man.
+
+“One day he saw out in the stream a slovenly-looking four-masted ship
+evidently awaiting the rise of the tide. She was headed downstream.
+
+“That was his anxious hour; to show himself meant to return to be
+executed.
+
+“Transportation to a home on Tasmania was the penalty meted out to any
+ship master aiding in an escape. Should the flood-tide precede darkness
+he was doomed.
+
+“Darkness found him swimming low in the water. Noiselessly he grasped
+the rudder and climbed up onto the beam above it, huddling as close as
+possible to the ship’s stern.
+
+“The ship was well out to sea and it was not far from daybreak when
+he stood up, facing a sleepy steersman resting on a wheel that needed
+little attention because of the light but steady breeze prevailing.
+
+“Blank said, ‘Speak and you are a dead man.’ Then he told the helmsman
+that he could have £1,000 if he would hide him until he could talk to
+the captain.
+
+“The sailor said, ‘Take the helm, stand with your back to the lookout,
+he’s likely asleep and I’ll bring the captain,’ and threw his oilskin
+coat over Blank’s shoulders.
+
+“‘£1,000 to the captain,’ Blank whispered.
+
+“The captain and the steersman came separately. There was a plea for
+sympathy, an offer of all the money the captain would ask--the purchase
+outright of a ship that the captain might put the ocean between himself
+and old England.
+
+“Blank was installed in the captain’s cabin, bathed, clothed, ate a
+part of the captain’s meals and notwithstanding his deformities was
+almost happy during the long voyage around the Cape of Good Hope and up
+the coast of Africa.
+
+“At Southampton, Blank was hidden, his sister sent for. You can imagine
+the meeting? The sister was not lacking in fidelity; the disfiguration
+of the beloved brother meant to her merely a call for more love, more
+fortitude.
+
+“The captain resigned his employment, purchased for cash at the owner’s
+asking price, a trim little three-master lying in port, became captain
+of his own ship and cleared for Quebec, Canada.
+
+“Two hooded and veiled women, apparently, boarded and the vessel went
+on its way to a strange land. Neither Blank nor his sister appeared
+on deck during the six weeks before the frowning citadel at Quebec,
+guarding the waters of the St. Lawrence was reached and passed.
+
+“A few miles up the river, beyond the plains of Abraham, Blank and his
+sister Margaret bade the Captain goodbye.
+
+“Each carried a heavy pack as they stepped into a small boat and were
+rowed ashore by the same helmsman who first saw Blank on the rudder,
+back in the waters of far-away Tasmania.
+
+“Reasoning that safety was to be found only through hiding far from the
+sea, the brother and sister followed the river, making wide detours
+whenever hamlets or settlements intervened.
+
+“It was May when they first set foot on Canadian soil. When the leaves
+began to take on a russet hue, they found what appeared to them a
+perfect hiding place.
+
+“To their surprise, perhaps, their guide, the river, broadened into an
+inland sea and they found that settlements, cities even, dotted the
+shores of both river and lake. They struck back, following a turbulent
+stream, and found it led them into a real wilderness.
+
+“Margaret made purchases of necessities while John was always hiding.
+They existed in constant fear of discovery. No spot on earth would
+prove safe for the condemned. The offense against society would never
+outlaw.
+
+“An abandoned canoe, washed up on the shore of a back-water or channel
+back of an island in this river encountered in their wanderings, was
+used. They had not seen a village or even a human habitation in three
+days’ walk through dense brush and open wood. A paddle was improvised
+through the use of the light ax carried.
+
+“For miles up the dark stream, sometimes widening to a couple of
+hundred yards, but usually so narrow and grown with weeds as to be
+wellnigh impassable, they proceeded.
+
+“A landing had to be made as night was near. They pushed the canoe
+through a labyrinth of water-deadened trees, with outreaching arms
+suggestive of myriad gibbets, until they found the shore thicket for
+which they were looking and thus they came home.
+
+“Home--home from the proud old family mansion in well-settled England
+to a spot where the foot of white-faced man had apparently never been
+planted.
+
+“Difficulty of getting to solid ground, inspired the thought of making
+this stopping place their permanent abode, and led to a survey of the
+entire surroundings. It was an almost inaccessible island, surrounded
+not by open water, but by an impassable swamp.
+
+“The dugout on Hawk’s Neck, Tasmania, inspired their first attempt at a
+dwelling-place.
+
+“Stealthily, gradually, from a distant village, Margaret gathered
+such few tools as permitted the building of a cabin. She bought such
+seedlings as enabled them to plant a garden. A gun became part of their
+outfit and the following spring found them busily engaged in making
+comfortable their retreat.
+
+“As the years passed Margaret dared to go openly to a village many
+miles away. In time they learned from newspapers which they bought that
+the prison colony on Tasmania was abolished and though Blank’s status
+was still uncertain, a sense of security was established--but from
+something that John Blank’s living spirit would not disclose through
+Elaine, a new cause of sorrow and discontent came into his miserable
+existence; I am sure of that,” Hugh said, turning on me his gaze which
+during this long recital had been fixed on the wood beyond the open
+fields and I knew that he was not on the hilltop where we sat but at
+that lonesome cabin back of the black ash swamp.
+
+“What a fearful life and what a terrible ending,” I ventured. “What
+became of the sister?”
+
+“I do not know,” Hugh replied, “but I would swear I saw her on the
+Dover boat, though it may have been my imagination only.”
+
+As we walked homeward, our backs to the setting sun, we discussed
+the brutality of the British penal system of the first half of the
+nineteenth century and I was surprised to hear Hugh put up a plea in
+extenuation of what to me was unthinkable in a civilization so far
+advanced--a system instituted and maintained as late as 1854 by a
+Christian country furnishing us the very laws which I, as an officer of
+the courts, was sworn to respect.
+
+Hugh calmly said, “Yes, the punishment of offenders against society’s
+laws was as horrible as any demon incarnate could invent, though I have
+a conviction that neither the Home authorities nor the English people
+had any idea as to the depths to which human nature, both in keepers
+and convicts, descended.
+
+“Abandon hope, except of forcing freedom and the criminal becomes
+extremely dangerous. Consider the plight of the keepers, outnumbered by
+their charges, months removed from home and help; they could expect no
+quarter--could they give it?
+
+“Fear is contagious; the guards were not of the higher type of
+Anglo-Saxon. They doubtless were rightly afraid of the army of the
+abandoned and from the ignorant and doubtless cowardly private, the
+feeling of insecurity crept up through the ranks even to the governor
+himself. I believe that the horrors of the rack, with its stretchers,
+breakers, hot irons and lancet was a natural corollary; brutality was
+supreme on the island, though I find no excuse for the arrow-branding
+and flogging on shipboard.”
+
+“Remember, Gordon,” Hugh added, “We owe to the severity of the
+Anglo-Saxon laws the fact that we find today more native honesty
+of mind in the Anglo-Saxon than in either the Latin or the Slav.
+The hangings for petty theft--the poaching of a rabbit and such
+delinquencies as would now, in our Canadian and American courts, invite
+a fine or at the worst a jail sentence--bred through generations of
+English mothers a more honest race. Let us be thankful--we shall live
+to see capital punishment a rarity. Even my poor friend Blank did not
+suffer altogether in vain.”
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Two weeks--the day had passed so rapidly--there was so much to
+observe--this peculiar household of ex-convicts, so quiet, so
+well-ordered; a great farm producing a good revenue, as attested by
+the immense bins of grain which I had inspected with Hugh and Elaine
+and the many mows packed with hay, the ample straw-stacks, well-fed
+cattle and spirited horses--all gave evidence of earnest desire to make
+good on the part of the “guests” who spent their evening in reading,
+debating, and discussion of present work and future prospects.
+
+Craighead Hall seemed sufficient unto itself. The world outside the
+enclosure seemed remote and yet Hugh’s mail was voluminous; it was
+sorted and cared for by Fred Hunt, his secretary, a fair-haired youth
+who had served time for alleged forgery, though to me he protested
+innocence. I mixed freely with the “guests.” To the last man they were
+interesting; they came from the better class--educated, many refined;
+bitterness, hatred of fellowman who had “persecuted” them was rare.
+They were getting a new start in life.
+
+I was surprised to find most of them young in years, especially those
+convicted of crimes of violence--unchecked anger. I never arose early
+enough to find the house asleep, and, while on duty, the prison habit
+of silence seemed to cling to them--no, not to all--I am forgetting the
+Chinaman.
+
+He talked as freely as though he had always been at liberty with boon
+companions and he was a splendid maid-servant and devoted to both Hugh
+and his sister--and I was not a little pleased at the attention he
+extended to me. He was an expert clothes-presser--even ironed out my
+neck-scarfs and laundered my collars.
+
+I was at ease, save for one perplexing obsession; I lived in a
+dream--the great mansion with the rows of whispering poplars and the
+mysterious river in front, sombre woods all around, enclosing us as
+in an embrace. I lost all worldly perspective; life’s accustomed
+activities became remote--for hours at a time my mind would dwell on
+the strange phenomenon observed in Elaine’s condition.
+
+That the dead could communicate with the living was contrary to all
+my teachings, my belief. I asked Hugh for the “spirit writings” from
+which he got the details of Blank’s strange story. They were voluminous
+and in a handwriting distinctly different from Elaine’s clean-cut
+chirography which followed the English, square-topped letters.
+
+Everything and more of John Blank’s life history as told by Hugh was
+there; many repetitions, as though a question had been repeated;
+answers irrelevant; for instance, a statement from Blank that he did
+not realize that he had passed from life through what we call death,
+until he found himself among many strangers; that he had lingered near
+his body, returned to his old home after visiting Craighead Hall; he
+had seen nothing of either heaven or hell and was still a dweller on
+earth with man embodied and disembodied and was not happier than while
+in the flesh. In fact, from the disjointed writings, I gathered that he
+was more timid and fearful of the world about him than when walking the
+earth.
+
+He had not changed mentally. He had sought Hugh and Alix in Scotland,
+his sister in England, could not communicate with her, but “found in
+the little half-sister a real friend.”
+
+Evidently Hugh or Elaine had asked what he meant by this statement, as
+there followed a line--“We are all looking for half-sisters or brothers
+who can take messages.”
+
+He was reasonably happy near Hugh and Elaine, it appeared, and
+Craighead Hall was his home.
+
+“Great Heavens!” I thought; “One more silent guest in this strange
+place.”
+
+Had he walked down the broad staircase one bright morning I would not
+have been taken aback and, after reading this mass of evidence far into
+the night, I could fairly feel his presence.
+
+I felt that Blank resented my intrusion into the affairs of this family
+and its relationship with him. I became an expert in deciphering the
+difficult writing which ran all together with no dots or crosses and I
+left no scrap unread.
+
+Doubt as to the genuineness of Elaine’s communications with the spirit
+fled--but my Sunday-school teachings kept bobbing into my head--I could
+not, even at two o’clock in the afternoon, while sitting alone in the
+great sombre library, help offering up a silent supplication to the Son
+of the Father for guidance.
+
+There was a stirring of the air in the room; in just that mental
+condition which induces one to expect the impossible, I jumped from
+my chair and turned toward the light to which my back had been that I
+might the better read, fully expecting to meet the earless phantom.
+
+“Oh!” I exclaimed and almost collapsed through sheer nervous weakness.
+Elaine, in riding clothes, had playfully tiptoed into the room. A
+vision of beauty, but as startling an apparition as would have been
+John Blank in person, so foreign to my expectation was this visit.
+
+“What in the world,” Elaine exclaimed, seeing my blanched face; then
+she gravely laughed, if I may so describe it, saying, “Throw away those
+papers; don’t let them bother you; they have upset you. I asked Hughie
+not to let you worry over them.”
+
+I could not speak for a moment, so great had been my shock and Elaine
+seemingly appreciative of my condition, went on, “Hugh and I are riding
+to the village;” and with a mischievous smile, “If you could sit a
+horse for twenty miles and still wish to live tomorrow, I would ask
+instead of one, two escorts all through the lonely wood.”
+
+Elaine looked more than surprised when I sprang quickly to her and took
+her disengaged hand--one held a riding crop--in both of mine.
+
+Just then Hugh stepped into the room calling, “Elaine, we’ll be late
+returning--” stopped with an “Oh, I did not know Gordon was here.”
+
+My reply was to drop her hand, push Hugh aside in my excitement and
+rush for the stair calling back, “Wait just a moment while I change.”
+
+“Hold up,” Hugh called, “You haven’t any riding breeches. I’ll get
+you my Sunday-go-to-meeting pair; they are too grand for any city
+bridle-path equestrian, but Elaine’s knight-errants must be fittingly
+clad while on exhibition at the village.”
+
+I was upstairs when the last of this good-humored speech reached me but
+it was pleasing--Hugh had not resented the familiarity witnessed. Hugh
+brought the breeches and a coat as well, told me to wear my vest as the
+night would be chilly.
+
+“I’m as nervous as a fish,” I said to Hugh as he waited while I
+struggled with a row of buttons on the trouser leg and clasped on a
+pair of my host’s puttees.
+
+“Pshaw, man,” Hugh retorted, “There is nothing in a twenty-mile ride to
+get excited about, especially while there are three of us,” he added,
+glancing sideways at me.
+
+“It is the Blank writings,” I exclaimed.
+
+“Oh that is it; well you must not let things of that nature worry you;
+they are--that’s all--just accept and forget them.”
+
+Hugh, on a splendid mount, set an easy pace, riding a few yards ahead.
+I rode beside Elaine. The dogs set up a howl as we passed the kennels;
+open fields were traversed; the wood road was beautiful; my heart sang.
+
+A verse from a book of my childhood floated into my memory--
+
+  _I saw the sunlight through the trees,
+     Checkering the grassy earth;
+   I felt the breath of the summer breeze
+     And my spirit was full of mirth._
+
+The padlocked gate, a road which Elaine explained was the “concession
+line.” What that meant was nothing, but I dwelt on the voice as though
+an angel had spoken.
+
+Hugh had spurred on ahead when we reached the main road, and as we
+approached the cemetery, I saw that he had dismounted and was leaning
+just as when I saw him first, on the white paling of the little plot
+outside the cemetery’s far corner.
+
+As Elaine did not check her horse or give more than a glance toward
+Hugh, I made no comment but kept beside her. Truth is, I was not a
+finished horseman and had to watch my step with the rather mettlesome
+black under me.
+
+“Here is where Hughie went to school,” Elaine said as we came abreast a
+clapboarded, one-story, red-painted, neat little building perched atop
+a considerable hill; the first break in a silence commencing at the
+cemetery.
+
+My answer was cut short through a determined but most ungraceful
+attempt to avoid landing on my head on the roadway. My horse had set a
+front foot on a rolling stone as we took the down-grade of the hill.
+He went on one knee before recovering to break into a run--and I had
+my arms around his neck--a rather undignified figure, everything
+considered.
+
+When my companion came alongside, she was laughing. The gloom gathered
+at the cemetery was dispelled and though the expense was mine, I was
+glad.
+
+“You should always keep a tight rein while going downhill,” she twitted
+me on my horsemanship; solemnly advised me at the next hill then in
+sight; there was light badinage which I answered in kind to the best
+of my ability while we covered many miles; but I was always kept aloof
+from anything approaching sentimentality.
+
+A step on the ladder of my dreams--I had called her Elaine and she
+dropped the Mr. and my name Gordon from her lips took on a new sound.
+
+Rows of houses with gardens began to show the proximity of the village.
+Hugh rode with us. He pointed out the tall spire of the church on top
+of the hill beneath which the village nestles, saying, “Four lads in
+their early teens got ninety days each in the ‘Black Hole,’ the village
+lockup, for shooting up that spire when I was a boy.
+
+“Father pleaded for them before the squire, I remember; he was the
+judge who later sentenced Haig, but though the lads were merely trying
+out a new rifle and were greatly alarmed when they found how far it
+would carry--they shot from the hill across the river--no mercy was
+shown.”
+
+We were going down the hill; I held a tight rein and stole a glance
+at Elaine; she was looking at me and smiling. Hugh knew nothing of my
+mishap and kept on talking.
+
+We tied our mounts in the open shed in the rear yard of the “Myrtle
+Bank.” Where the name originated, I cannot say.
+
+Both Hugh and his sister were afoot before I could get out of the
+saddle. As we walked toward Front Street, Hugh was accosted by a
+scholarly-looking stranger and excused himself, saying, “Meet you at
+the post office in half an hour,” meantime looking at a thick timepiece.
+
+Elaine dismissed me at the first and almost only dry goods store saying
+that “she did not wish to display to me her vanity.”
+
+From my vantage point at the end of the bridge near the post office
+I watched Hugh approach. He looked neither to right nor left, though
+people, neighbors, almost, were passing and eyeing him; a fine
+upstanding figure, but the face was solemn, aloof, but, I thought,
+purposeful.
+
+We entered the post office together. Hugh shook hands with an
+alert-looking young man, saying, “Mr. Montrose, this is our Postmaster,
+Mr. Harris. I am looking for your father, Mr. Harris.”
+
+Mr. Harris acknowledged my greeting with a real, political, come-along
+handshake, saying to Hugh, “The governor will be out in a few minutes,”
+and we turned to see Elaine at the post wicket talking to the clerk.
+
+She turned to me, “You remember Mr. Haig?”
+
+Mr. Haig, the transformed, was a government employee. Certainly Hugh
+had done a good work here, for the young man, salved and reclaimed,
+held an air of confidence, though I noted the deferential manner when
+he greeted Hugh who put his hand through the wicket to Haig.
+
+“Doing splendidly, sir, and all thanks to you, Mr. Craighead, and to
+you and Mr. Montrose,” he added, looking at Elaine.
+
+Stepping back out of sight, Haig reappeared with a good-sized bundle of
+letters tied in a package and said, “A busy day, Mr. Craighead, I kept
+this one out as it was ‘Special.’”
+
+I noted that it carried foreign postage stamps. Hugh started to
+open the letter, then stuck it in a side pocket of his coat as an
+important-looking gentleman came up with hand extended and greeted
+Hugh, who drew him aside, literally by the coat lapel, and called me by
+a glance.
+
+“Senator Harris, Mr. Montrose,” Hugh was saying, “a Philadelphia
+lawyer, sojourning with us at the Hall. You will be interested in him.
+I hope to induce Mr. Montrose to associate himself with me in my reform
+work. He will stay with us and we shall enlarge our force just as soon
+as you put through my bill.”
+
+The Senator was cold-eyed.
+
+“My dream is that the government of Canada will set an example for
+the United States through taking up the work on a proper scale,” Hugh
+resumed.
+
+“I can only operate in a small way. Every man turned out of a prison
+should have a home such as Craighead Hall where he can rest and get
+back some of his self-respect, be taught to be decent, shown that
+the world is for or against him only as he chooses. The Member who
+is instrumental in passing this measure will have the gratitude of
+thousands now living and a thousand thousand unborn.
+
+“Millions of dollars lost under present systems of turning sewage right
+back into the streets will be saved to taxpayers through the lessening
+of crime, for I note, Senator, that most of our court and policing cost
+is expended on ex-criminals who repeat. Come to the Hall and see a
+model institution.”
+
+The Senator, an influential member of the Upper Parliament I learned
+later, a typical Canadian politician whose very soul would revolt at
+the mention of graft--and yet who could see no impropriety in securing
+for his own son the best that the government could give in the way of
+plums, the postmastership; good-natured, but reserved in manner and
+speech, exceedingly proud of self and position, kept on smiling.
+
+“I have for some time been thinking of affording myself the pleasure of
+calling on you and your charming sister,” the Senator said in a quiet
+but attractive voice which I mentally contrasted with the reply which
+would have been made by a member of our Congress not so affable; he
+would have said “All right, Hugh,” with mental reservation perhaps and,
+if no votes were involved, would have had ready a good alibi for their
+next meeting.
+
+Not so this Canadian statesman. There are no politicians in Parliament,
+Upper or Lower, I have found--all statesmen.
+
+When invited for a specific date, he urged “pressure of business,”
+coldly, I thought, though taking the number of a Canadian Member
+is difficult. He proceeded: “Precedence of other measures must be
+carefully considered before I undertake the introduction of such a
+radical bill--no, radical is perhaps the wrong appellation; I think
+well of the scheme, yet it would appeal to many of my colleagues as
+revolutionary.”
+
+I thought Hugh was urging too earnestly. He put the direct question
+finally, “Will you or will you not,” in his own straightforward way.
+
+The Senator turned aside and looked down through a window at the black
+stream carrying all the waters of a great river between rock walls
+not over a hundred and fifty feet apart--waters that moved so rapidly
+that the surface looked motionless, like glass; it required a bit of
+flotsam, shooting past one’s vision, gone in a second of time, to
+dispel the illusion.
+
+The Senator spoke:
+
+“Gentlemen, the power of that stream is nothing, it may be harnessed
+by man; what power can check the human torrent called the mind of
+the multitude? I value my seat. The unthinking, perhaps, among my
+constituents, complain of the inadequacy of our laws and courts in
+punishing crime; what would be the fate of a measure in amelioration?
+
+“I but represent the wishes of my people. Petition--give me a request
+in writing from a safe majority and I will act.”
+
+He addressed me. “Our laws are respected here; punishment for
+infraction is sure and swift. We have only a few, compared with the
+many varying statutes of each state of the United States opposing
+obstacles to the prompt meting out of justice. Our criminal laws are
+good, our judges are fearless and our juries seldom permit sentiment
+to sway them. Except in Quebec, our population is Anglo-Saxon--honesty
+and respect for law is a birthright, let the Frenchman adjust his
+own affairs in conformity with his moral view; our old Covenanting
+Scotchman would certainly resent the coddling of a criminal, even with
+‘ex-’ prefixed; our Irish are generous, though they make the greater
+noise and cry louder for condign punishment; on impulse they would
+forgive.
+
+“Mr. Craighead, go after the many Irish in this district. Avoid
+the Scotch and pick your Englishman--a few are impossible, many
+reasonable, but, my boy, all are pigheaded and must be properly
+approached or they will never sign up on your petition.
+
+“Show every man how the meager tax he now pays may be wiped out almost
+to the vanishing point, leaving just enough to afford him a subject for
+complaint, and you will succeed.”
+
+The Senator examined his watch, shot out his hand to Hugh, then to
+me and vanished through a swinging door. “I can’t see it,” Hugh said
+and I knew that Elaine, who had just joined us, saw as I did a great
+disappointment settle on Hugh.
+
+We took tea, a light dinner and learned from Hugh that he had arranged
+with a traveling preacher to come to the Hall and lecture; I think he
+would have said preach had he not caught some understandable light in
+the eyes of his sister. A priest also was coming--it was not fair to
+“guests” of the Catholic faith that they should have no opportunity of
+conforming to their teachings.
+
+Hugh, when Elaine protested at the teaching of impossibilities,
+stressed the point that man must have his religion and that he had not
+found the Joss of Fong missing when last he visited his room.
+
+From the backs of our moving horses at the top of the hill where the
+Catholic Church stands sentinel over its little army below, lights
+seemed to dance like fireflies.
+
+Hugh was silent, apparently depressed but doubtless thinking out a way
+for the furthering of his work.
+
+As we rode on through the miles, Hugh, a horse’s length ahead, only the
+diapason of hoofbeats and the pleasant creaking of leathers conforming
+to the horses’ motions, broke the silence.
+
+“She” was near me. I was happy and yet most miserably unhappy.
+
+Once, as we came in through the silence of the dense woods, I reached
+across and laid my hand on the sleeve of her riding coat. She permitted
+the caress, understood it, I think, for she leaned a little forward in
+the saddle and turned her face toward me as though in acknowledgment. I
+wished then that I could have seen her eyes.
+
+It was merely a touch of the hand on her sleeve, but the harmonies were
+awake.
+
+“Jehovah,” I kept repeating, “is in His place in heaven,” and the ten
+long miles were all too short.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The lecturer did not present an appearance but the priest came on
+Friday contrary to Hugh’s understanding. The day set was Sunday but
+nevertheless, he was heartily welcomed, his horse stabled and Hugh
+proceeded at once to call in the “guests.”
+
+The big bell atop the barn tolled seven strokes and within
+three-quarters of an hour nearly forty men were assembled in the great
+hall awaiting the pleasure of the father. Each man was introduced by
+Hugh and I marvelled that he could remember their names.
+
+Is there in the physiognomy of the Catholic a mark through which one of
+the same faith may distinguish him from the Protestant?
+
+Father Nealon, a comparatively young man, certainly under forty, went
+about his work in a brisk, businesslike manner, picking out those of
+his faith.
+
+About one-third of the “guests” were confessed--a strange proceeding,
+transmitting to the Most High, through the successor of Peter, the
+innermost secrets, believing that a mortal man has the vicarious
+authority to forgive or at least in a measure absolve.
+
+The rest of the men went about their duties or read; some wandered down
+to the river to see that the boats were securely under shelter as the
+day had grown sullen and the wind had risen to almost a gale.
+
+They reassembled later in the evening, before the usual dinner hour.
+The entire household was there except the Chinaman and I would not say
+that the Celestial was not hidden within earshot.
+
+In a fine manly way the father talked--not of heaven or purgatory but
+on things present; duty, cultivation of respect for self, for others,
+for society’s laws, forgetfulness of old ideas, appreciation of a newly
+regained citizenship--as fine a discourse as I had ever heard.
+
+He admonished the men to cling to the faith of their childhood, though
+those of his faith in the audience were in the minority and closed by
+offering up a very understandable prayer, full of feeling, a sort of
+summing up, I thought, into which he brought the name of Hugh as a
+benefactor.
+
+I was impressed with the genuineness of the man, especially after
+the “guests” had left the hall. Without apology, even hesitation,
+he accepted and drank a sizable potion of Scotch whiskey, declining
+water with the remark that “such a wonderful concoction should, like
+everything in nature, be kept pure.”
+
+Night had fallen and the storm had increased in fury. Rain in sheets on
+the breast of the wind, the darkness outside stabbed frequently through
+by flashes of lightning.
+
+“The last of our warm weather; the electricity will cool things
+off,” Hugh suggested as we walked upstairs that we might all make
+preparations for dinner.
+
+The father needed no urging to stay overnight, but said that he
+welcomed an opportunity of “taking a good look at such a magic palace
+in such a setting.”
+
+We dined much later than usual. There were four of us and Hugh
+suggested the library as more cozy than the great hall on such a stormy
+night. It must have been nearly eleven o’clock when Elaine excused
+herself.
+
+The discourse during dinner turned mainly on Hugh’s work and his effort
+to make the salving of ex-criminals institutional through an act of
+Parliament.
+
+Father Nealon expressed himself as completely won over to a cause which
+had theretofore appeared to him chimerical, if not positively wrong and
+a menace to public order. He pledged himself to the cause and it meant
+much to Hugh as the district held many Catholics.
+
+Hugh, when we three were alone, prepared a night-cap of old brandy
+from the vault. It was, I can testify, smooth, but to me, rather heavy
+and as, safe from the howling wind outside, we smoked and sipped the
+mild-tasting amber nectar I could feel that Hugh was being drawn into a
+discussion of his peculiar faith, or rather lack of it.
+
+The priest had a splendid fund of good-nature and dry wit, but in the
+background there seemed to be an earnestness of purpose which doubtless
+was inherent or the result of seminary teaching, and I doubted the
+wisdom of Hugh’s probable disclosure of the fact that he was anything
+but a churchman; it might prejudice the goodly man of the church
+against an accepted responsibility.
+
+First, Hugh confessed that since viewing the cathedrals of Europe he
+had not been within a church. Then came the assertion that organized
+churches and such control as they wielded were essential to good
+government as then conducted; then he claimed that of course religious
+teachings other than that golden rule of “doing unto others as you
+would that others should do unto you” had no bearing as claimed on the
+“fate of the soul.”
+
+Father Nealon seemed to chuckle inwardly as he said, “Well, thanks be!
+I thought you would be denying a soul to us poor mortals.”
+
+“No, indeed,” Hugh replied, “I do deny, however, that the soul was
+breathed into Adam or any other ready-made human as your Bible claims.”
+
+The father leaned far back in the big leather chair, turned roguish
+eyes to me and said, “Now, friend Montrose, we shall just sit and
+listen while Mr. Craighead tells us how we became the possessors of
+souls, for a soul we have, to be saved or damned.”
+
+“Too long a story, father,” Hugh replied, “though I feel that having
+committed myself I should give you my views, rather, my convictions;
+they certainly do not coincide with yours and I do not ask you to give
+them any weight, but you ask for them.”
+
+“Never fear,” the priest replied, “though my faith is founded on a
+rock, nevertheless, I want to learn the genealogy of the most precious
+of my possessions.”
+
+“Then listen, Mr. Priest,” Hugh began, “listen, not to me, but to your
+native, unwarped intelligence, for, freed from mistaken inculcations
+you have a splendid brain and a wonderful soul within you. This
+intelligence must say that, like the body, the soul is an evolved
+product of nature’s laws. Do you suppose that the first vertebrate
+biped known as man carried within him such a soul as you possess? How
+many changes has the body undergone since its habitat was the water,
+the cooling gases sweated out from a cooling planet? Many, you will
+grant, and the soul has not undergone any less in number.
+
+“The soul’s origin? In fact it always was, just as everything in the
+universe always existed, but everything in the universe, save only
+the law eternal, changes. We do not live from within. We inspire life
+with every breath. The unmeasurable universe is as an entity, alive
+and sending out throughout its entirety, life--millions of different
+forms of life have lived and disappeared entirely. Only the fittest
+survive and this law holds today and will hold in the ultimate for all
+eternity, beyond the grave.”
+
+Father Nealon loudly interjected: “Do you mean to tell me that the soul
+is not everlasting? For argument’s sake, but for the sake of argument
+only, I’ll grant you that man came up from the fishes; though I don’t
+believe a word of it; souls are immortal!”
+
+Hugh smiled, saying, “Your Vulgate teachings will not permit you
+to think clearly, I see. Let us reason that out. We may only use
+analogy as a guide. Is anything, from planets to that which nature
+builds through aggregation on planets, eternal? The soul is as much a
+planetary product as the body. The body of man has attained its present
+proportions through a process of unfolding. How many promising bodies
+involuted and disappeared during the life of our world? We find them in
+the rocks. The survival of man’s body is probably due to the presence
+therein as a necessary integral of the evolved soul and spirit which
+sustains, yes, moulds it. One leans upon the other and helps build the
+whole. If the body may involute, why not the soul?”
+
+The father, all attention, exclaimed, “Ah! Now I believe you not only
+read profane writings, but you have studied what the New Testament
+teaches. Paul distinguishes the soul from both spirit and body, but
+just what is the soul and what the spirit?”
+
+“Yes,” Hugh replied, “and the crucified Teacher of the doctrine of
+love pointed out the absurdity of the soul’s awakening only after the
+bones are gathered together on the last day when He said, according to
+Matthew, ‘Fear not them which kill the body but are not able to kill
+the soul.’
+
+“I would say that anything possessing intelligence, the ability to
+reason, has a soul. Reasoning has built up a carrier, we call it a
+mind; whether in one part or in the whole of the body. The reasoning
+mind has evolved the soul of man into the purposeful entity of today,
+built it up through aggregation just as our planet was assembled. Can
+you, Father Nealon, conceive of man’s wonderful soul as possessed by
+his progenitors of a lower order--back to the fish?
+
+“Man reasons through the brain and telegraphs sinews, muscles and
+organs through the nerves, but many times he acts contrary to the
+promptings of an as yet unsubjugated soul, what we recognize as our
+subconscious self--an inner man, the spiritual man, in some degree
+always subject to the flesh man, his partner in this life only.
+
+“The degree of subjugation of the subconscious, a part of the body of
+man, yet perhaps eons of years older, constitutes the measurement of
+his evolution or involution.
+
+“Listen to the soundless voice of the inner man and you will not go
+far astray. The goal is the acquiring of knowledge, therefore, of an
+all-embracing power, though there is no absolute, but we are a long
+way back of it, thanks in some measure to untrue religious teachings
+throughout the world. We lean too much. ‘Believe in me and ye shall
+never die,’ as interpreted by the church is stultifying.
+
+“You, father, teach the worship of the God-man, Jesus, or at least your
+teachings are so interpreted while the Christ--Truth--only should we
+consider.”
+
+“But the spirit,” the father persisted, and the reply came, “A thorough
+and complete body, Mr. Priest, a crystallization of the electrons of an
+atom, perhaps, but we shall never know until Eos throws open to us the
+gates of dawn and then perhaps we may not have revealed to us many more
+of nature’s secrets than we now know. _That_ I would judge will depend
+on the progress made in our many journeys from here to the hereafter
+and back again.”
+
+Father Nealon sat bolt upright. “Do you, Mr. Craighead, presume to say
+that souls come back from heaven or hell to this earth and enter into a
+new body? Preposterous! You must have been imbibing of the doctrines of
+Mormon or are you a Theosophist?”
+
+Hugh shot back: “Better a book of Mormon or Theosophy than the
+deductions from that other book, misinterpreted and spread broadcast
+during nearly two thousand years by ignorant satellites of the
+higher-ups seeking aggrandizement; poisoning the minds and bodies--the
+terms are synonymous--of our children; sowing the seeds of fear so
+thoroughly that the child draws it into his being with the mother’s
+milk. Fear, the most horrible of diseases, for it affects the mind
+and the body and the soul; fear of God, of punishment; fear of father
+and mother, teacher, the world, himself--throw away your doctrine of
+darkness and fear that the mothers of a thousand years hence may have
+no phobia when of their bodies they build a house for the stranger;
+once a dweller on earth, seeking as he must another opportunity for
+advancement in the science of nature’s manifestations.”
+
+Here, as a vivid flash of lightning brightly illuminating the front of
+the room was followed instantaneously by a crack of thunder, we all
+stood tense.
+
+Hugh leaned forward with right arm extended and finger pointing at
+the father, “Know you, father, not in the spiritual essence of the
+universe, not in the natural law, is there jealousy, hate or fear, nor
+hypocrisy. You profess belief that the Spirit of Christ walked the
+earth, that Abraham and the prophets became visible, yet if I should
+say to you that the spirit of the living dead has appeared in this
+room--”
+
+At that instant the left panel of the huge French window was flung back
+and there came into the room a sheet of water borne on a burst of wind.
+The lamps in their brackets sent up each chimney a wisp of smoke and
+went out; the chimney-place gave out a fitful flickering light as the
+draft brought a dying flame to life. I was drenched to the skin when I
+turned from shooting the bolt in the closed window.
+
+An awed, shrill cry, “Hugh! Hugh!” rang in my ears.
+
+I saw two figures standing just out from the wall-panel opening--both
+in white--Elaine it certainly was, but the other figure, a man’s
+ghostly contour--Hugh stepped clean through the man and I could see
+Hugh’s dark clothing as though obscured by a mist as he took his
+sister’s form in his arms and without a word disappeared in the
+opening in the wall which closed behind them.
+
+The good father stood crossing himself. He made the sign of the cross
+half-a-dozen times, a weird figure in the dying light of the open
+grate, now that the draft was excluded.
+
+Father Nealon looked at the spot where the specter had stood, looked at
+the blank wall where Hugh and the other specter with bronze-gold hair
+all about the white shoulders above her robe of white had passed, and
+almost shouted: “What is this? Am I crazy--am I blind? What manner of
+theatrical chicanery has this crazy man invented?” and he rubbed his
+eyes as though he had been asleep and strode over to the fireplace.
+
+“Nothing to cause you any alarm, Reverend,” I said, “that was Hugh’s
+sister evidently walking in her sleep--many people do that.”
+
+I put fresh fuel on the fire and removed my wet coat.
+
+Silence for a moment, then the father said, “Mysterious! I did not see
+Mr. Hugh go after that voice called his name--where is he? But then I
+saw nothing but the other. My friend, what did you make of it?”
+
+“What?” I asked.
+
+“Why! the man who stood beside the girl, the big fellow who looked
+unreal. If I ever hope to see a ghost he was here tonight.”
+
+“Miss Elaine was very real; Hugh carried her out through a secret
+entrance; nothing of mystery about that; someone left the window
+unlatched and the wind forced it open--”
+
+I was interrupted.
+
+“Man, man, didn’t you see something like a man standing to the right
+of the girl--and that Craighead should walk right through it--I saw
+him or I was dreaming,” and Nealon walked over to the table, held the
+brandy bottle between his eyes and the fire, saying, “Only a thimbleful
+gone; not enough to liven a sparrow and yet I believe by my soul I have
+imagined everything since the venison was served.”
+
+He poured out a brimming glass; it was a wine-glass, fortunately, and
+drank it off, without a moment’s hesitation.
+
+“Shall we seek sleep that our heads may be clear on the morrow, Mr.
+Montrose? We can make our apologies in the morning. Probably our host
+will feel relieved at our taking this liberty.”
+
+I readily acquiesced, banked the fire as the wind was even higher than
+when the window blew open and the draft was strong, walked upstairs
+with our friend and bade him good night and pleasant dreams, at his
+door.
+
+Far into the small hours of the morning, in his room adjoining mine,
+I could hear him pacing the floor. My estimate of this man was
+unchanged--one of the finest, most manly of men. A good teacher, a
+well-beloved pastor of a devoted flock. I wished him for a friend and
+must say that though years have passed, time has only the more closely
+cemented a mutual respect and liking begun on this first of his many
+visits to Craighead Hall. And he kept faith with Hugh.
+
+Sleep and I were strangers until dawn. I thought of all the tragic
+things which might have ensued since Elaine’s startling visit to the
+library, yet I dared not disturb the quiet of the household.
+
+I prayed--yes, I asked the Almighty to spare her--and in the midst
+of my silent prayer thought of Hugh’s contempt for religious
+convictions--but I was only asking aid. The tramp-tramp next door
+became monotonous. The priest was badly shaken.
+
+Day must have dawned--a little rivulet came creeping out upon the
+polished floor, the leaded windows were letting in the driving
+equinoxial rain. Slowly, so slowly it crept out and out as I watched.
+Noon was not far off when I awoke.
+
+Rain was still falling, but the wind had moderated. As I stood on the
+veranda sheltered from both rain and wind, the latter having veered to
+the north, bringing a most disagreeable chill to the atmosphere, I saw
+the farm carryall, a three-seated vehicle with springs, driven up to
+the front door. The curtains parted and there alighted two cloaked and
+hooded women and a man carrying a small black bag, whom I correctly
+guessed was a doctor. She must be ill indeed for Hugh to have other
+women about the Hall--and a doctor.
+
+I found Hugh pacing the upper hall a half-hour later.
+
+“High fever, unconscious since a few moments after I carried her to her
+room,” Hugh said in answer to my unspoken question, then added, “The
+doctor and nurses are with her.”
+
+“What was the cause?” I inanely asked.
+
+“A dream,” Hugh replied. “One of those terrible visitations--said
+Alix must have died as she had seen her on a boat with water all
+about; you know, Gordon, how unnatural she becomes during one of those
+visitations. Well, this was the strangest condition of mind I have ever
+witnessed in her. Seemed as though she was absolutely asleep downstairs
+and when I laid her on her bed and drew the blanket over her she was
+cold and still.
+
+“I tell you, man, I was alarmed until I saw her eyelids quiver--then
+she said, ‘Alix is dead; I saw her on a boat; water all about,’ then
+became unconscious but her breathing deceived me into thinking she was
+as usual after a visitation, merely sleeping and I think I slept while
+watching her.
+
+“This morning at daybreak, her flushed face and pulse spelled fever; I
+sent for a doctor and day and night nurses. This may be serious.
+
+“I believe that in some way her spirit crossed over to Scotland, was
+out of her body for a time, though I have never heard of such a thing--”
+
+The doctor approached, coming from the corridor leading to Elaine’s
+room.
+
+“Mr. Montrose, Dr. Parsons,” Hugh introduced us.
+
+The medical man of middle age carrying a stethoscope in his left hand
+extended to me his right, saying more to Hugh than to me, “Organically
+perfect; the cerebro-spinal axis appears to be the seat of the trouble;
+I find no indication of infection. Can you send blood samples to my
+laboratory assistant?”
+
+Hugh said, “Certainly, at once,” and I insisted upon being the
+messenger; said it would ease my mind, and the doctor interposed, while
+looking me over critically, “Let him go, Mr. Craighead. The analyst
+may say something which he would not write in his report, besides your
+friend needs a few hours in which to pick himself up. Where do I camp?
+I shall stay here tonight,” the doctor added.
+
+Hugh turned to me. “Will you show him to the room adjoining yours?”
+
+“The priest?” I queried.
+
+“Oh, Father Nealon went in the carryall this morning; I shall send his
+horse as soon as weather permits,” Hugh replied.
+
+I was pulling on a raincoat when the doctor unceremoniously opened
+my door and without any preliminary, said, “Young man, there is
+something peculiar about this young person’s case. Has she had some
+great shock--exhaustion of nerves; unaccountably high fever with no
+history--the mariner cannot navigate without his chart--out with it--I
+can see it in your eyes.”
+
+Should I let another, a stranger from the world outside into the
+close-guarded, secret affliction? I weighed the matter a moment, then
+said, “Doctor, the young lady is evidently a sleep-walker; she came
+into the library last night, sound asleep.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” he replied, “but there is something back of that; I’ll
+have to quiz Craighead. Now off with you and get back pronto,” and he
+whisked out of my room.
+
+Every mile of the way recalled that recent joyous ride of but a few
+days ago; but the rain continued to beat upon the supposedly waterproof
+covering of the wagon.
+
+I sat with the driver and scarcely a word was spoken. Wet through, I
+hastened to Dr. Parsons’ office and handed the small box entrusted
+to my care to a thin-faced, spectacled young man. I fully expected a
+shock. It seemed to me that I was carrying the life-blood of her whom
+I worshipped. There was only a small piece of lint--I did not even see
+the blood smear on it.
+
+“Hurry with this,” I said to the analyst who, in reply, merely looked
+me over through his spectacles, turned on his heel and passed into an
+inner room.
+
+Two hours later, stiff and annoyed, I got painfully to my feet as the
+man came into the cold, comfortless office and handed me a sealed
+letter directed to Dr. A. W. Parsons.
+
+“What did you find?” I queried. “All in there,” the man returned,
+pointing to the letter, adding as he turned about, “Good day.”
+
+The wagonette awaiting me under the hotel shed set off homeward at
+once. About three miles out the road passed through a cedar swamp.
+I remember noting the drooping, forlorn appearance of the trees as
+I peered out between the curtains. Their bleak outline took on many
+fantastic shapes, all gloomy. A sharp pain shot through under my left
+shoulder blade and I remembered nothing more until a week later when
+I opened my eyes to find a pleasant-faced young woman standing beside
+my bed, a bottle in one hand and a spoon in the other. I tried to sit
+up, but while I willed to do so, my body did not move; nor could I
+recognize my feeble voice as my own when I essayed to speak.
+
+The nurse put her finger on her lips and said, “Quiet; not a word;
+do not try to move;” then, turning toward a couch out of my line of
+vision, “Doctor.”
+
+I could hear a grunt as though of somebody just awakened.
+
+“Doctor, the brandy did it; he is conscious,” and next moment the
+doctor, Parsons, had fingers on my wrist and stood over me looking at
+his watch.
+
+I tried to ask, but “Elaine” was all that I could whisper. The doctor’s
+heavy black eyebrows seemed to meet, notwithstanding the great gulf I
+thought had once separated them as he looked fiercely at me and said,
+“Young man, if I hear a peep out of you again for twenty-four hours,
+I’ll take away this good-looking young lady and leave you to Fong Wing
+with his devil papers and punk sticks.
+
+“Estelle,” he added, addressing the nurse, “did you smell that devilish
+heathen’s incense? I threw the whole mess, god and all, out the window.”
+
+The nurse leaned over near me and said, “Miss Elaine is well out of
+danger but you have had a serious week--pneumonia--but the fever has
+broken; you will be able to convalesce together. Now take this and go
+to sleep.”
+
+Hugh was in next day. The doctor seemed to blame me for keeping him
+prisoner at the Hall. Strength to get out of bed had not returned.
+I kept no account of the passing of time. Sleep--I seemed to sleep
+always, but one memorable day, I started wide awake to find _her_
+sitting on the outer edge of my bed.
+
+I spoke her name. She was so fragile, so pale, the great mass of gold
+coiled about her white brow accentuated the size and luster of her
+glorious eyes. If there was ever a face that showed a soul in agony, I
+was gazing into it.
+
+She laid her little white hand on mine and whispered rather than spoke,
+“Oh, Gordon, I’m so glad you are going to be well soon,” and when I
+tried to say what was in my heart--just “I love you,” the words would
+not come.
+
+She placed the palm of her hand on my lips and held it there a moment
+and then I sensed rather than heard others come into the room. There
+was a glad cry, a woman’s voice, an answering hysterical, “Alix! Alix!”
+the semblance of a struggle and the other woman calling frantically,
+“Hugh, Hugh, James!” laid Elaine in a dead faint across the foot of my
+bed.
+
+I sat up and looked first at Elaine, then at the frantic woman almost
+lying upon her, with both hands holding tight Elaine’s white face.
+Hugh followed by a stranger ran into the room. Hugh looked just an
+instant, then pulled Alix aside, but it was the Chinaman who appeared
+from nowhere with a glass of water, a portion of which he dashed into
+Elaine’s face. I had made such headway toward recovery that the nurse
+had gone downstairs.
+
+The others gone, the stranger lingered, pulled a chair to my bedside
+and introduced himself quietly as though nothing had happened.
+
+“James McFarlane,” he said. “We came over the river a few minutes ago
+and walked in on Hugh at lunch. My wifie couldn’t wait; the girl was
+daft to see her little sister; she made a mess of it, but--” he added,
+“it’s a natural emotion.”
+
+“I hope it will not give her a setback,” I replied.
+
+“Never fear; joy does not kill,” he answered, then, taking a good look
+at me, said, “Mon, ye look peaked. When ye are weal enow I want a talk
+wi’ ye about Hugh and his affairs. The lad needs a friend.”
+
+I assured him that I was fit, but he said the morrow or next day would
+do, carefully adjusted the covering on my bed, put the chairs back in
+place and as the nurse came in said, “I shall resign now that ye hae
+better company,” bowing toward tyrannical Estelle who doped me with
+eggnog, fixed my pillows so that I could sit up and then at my request,
+sought out the other invalid and brought me the reassuring message
+that Miss Elaine was none the worse for her experience and was busy in
+converse with her sister.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Elaine came next day, but not alone. The sister was more like Hugh;
+had blue eyes and dark hair--a beautiful woman whose thirty-odd
+years--I shall not be too exact--with their inevitable accumulation of
+weight had merely rounded out a splendid figure and, in my judgment,
+accentuated rather than diminished her attractiveness.
+
+Hugh had no recollection of getting any letter from McFarlane notifying
+him that the family was about to sail for Canada until I mentioned the
+official-looking document with foreign stamps which he had put in a
+side pocket of his coat while we were in the post office. A search was
+made but it could not be found.
+
+“Mac” as I mentally dubbed him--though in our frequent meetings during
+the week before he sought me out for counsel I always addressed
+him as Mr. McFarlane--“Mac” readily explained seemingly to his own
+satisfaction though not to mine, that Elaine’s vision was but a dream,
+a coincidence, “maybe a sort of thought transference,” as he put it.
+
+By appointment made the day previous I met Mac in the library where, as
+he expressed it, “we shall be oot o’ earshot o’ a’ the pryin’ silent
+anes wha spring oot o’ the floor and harry the nerves o’ ane.”
+
+The reunited family was at the village. The “wee bairnie,” a lusty
+youngster, much taken with Fong, was out at the stables with the
+Chinaman who seemed to have transferred his allegiance from Elaine to
+the rosy-cheeked young Scot.
+
+I must confess that for a whole week I had thought of little else than
+that something portentous was impending which would disturb the promise
+to me of an ideal life here at Craighead Hall. I had builded many a
+castle but they were all of limestone and set into the side of a hill.
+
+McFarlane’s manner was constrained. “Mr. Montrose, I hae deliberated
+long, hae sounded Hugh as to his feelin’s toward ye, looked at the
+situation from all angles and now, mon, I ask ye as a counsellor and
+as a friend of all parties in interest for your best advice,” was the
+opening.
+
+“Trust me fully,” was my reply, the thought arising that some crime or
+physical taint attaching to Hugh was about to be disclosed. It surely
+could not involve Elaine?
+
+Mac shifted his position from the use of a polished oak table as a rest
+for his elbows to one in which he leaned back in the large chair,
+placing his face in shadow.
+
+“Montrose, are ye capable o’ carryin’ on here should Hugh be called
+away?”
+
+My worst imaginings almost confirmed, I asked anxiously, “What has Hugh
+done?”
+
+I could not see the expression on Mac’s face until he leaned forward;
+then I read doubt as to whether or not I was the right person in whom
+to confide.
+
+“Dash it, Montrose, ye hae the wrong slant. I merely wish to know if ye
+think yoursel’ capable o’ carryin’ on the farm’s management and keepin’
+the pack o’ malefactors from killin’ ane anither durin’ Hugh’s absence.”
+
+“Oh yes, I could do that if necessary, but why should Hugh give up his
+work?”
+
+“A’ in good time, my friend; I’ll tell ye a’; but do ye think ye could
+do what Hugh is doin’, help more o’ the rascals to an easy berth?” he
+came back.
+
+“Yes, my practise is criminal law. I would like that work, but I am no
+farmer.”
+
+“Then ye could trust the farm management to a gude overseer such as
+old Hallowed was when I took Hugh and Alix to Scotland,” Mac said,
+adding, “That settled, I’ll proceed--but ye must hae patience and don’t
+interrupt.”
+
+I settled back, prepared to curb my impatience; it seemed the only
+way. McFarlane at times lapsing into broad Scotch, continued, “Hugh
+Craighead’s father, like Hugh, was a graduate of Edinburgh University.
+There were two Craigheads, Alexander Junior and James, twins, and they,
+as far as I can learn, were well-behaved lads, brought up i’ the fear
+o’ God by old Alexander, a regular Covenanter who lived in Hill Head,
+just across the Kelvin from Glasgow.
+
+“The father was a stern parent, exacting, intolerant and unforgiving; a
+bad combination as ye shall witness as I proceed, friend Montrose.
+
+“Another lad about the same age lived with the boys in the same
+dormitory, the object being to cut down expenses so that something of
+the old man’s allowance would be left them.
+
+“Alexander Senior was a close-fisted old Scotchman though he had
+plenty and to spare. The three boys became close friends and graduated
+together. Before separating, the Craigheads to return to Glasgow and
+the other lad to England, they agreed to return to the university for a
+post-graduate course.
+
+“The Craigheads returned, but their friend met a young lady in London
+and married. He took quarters in London and the boys received frequent
+invitations to come there as his guest. He wished to have them meet his
+wife of whose beauty of soul and body he filled his letters.
+
+“Later the urge was stronger; a little girl had been born and pride in
+paternity made him even more insistent. The Craigheads had never been
+in London. They were boning down on a course in law; the old man would
+not appreciate their natural desire to take even a week’s holiday. To
+him it would have meant a useless waste of good money. No man needed
+any friend other than Pounds Sterling was his theory, so the boys
+having a few pounds saved up, hied themselves southwestward, failing to
+let the old man know that they were not busy in Edinburgh.
+
+“Their visit to the college chum was necessarily brief, but so pleasant
+that when vacation season came and they were furnished with funds for
+a continental trip as a part of their educational course, they spent
+three days in Paris; the fourth found them with Mr. and Mrs. Blankleigh
+in London.”
+
+McFarlane at this point paused and with inquiry in his eyes glanced
+keenly at me but as nothing he had recounted was startling I was all
+impatient to learn where Hugh’s connection commenced.
+
+Then he resumed: “London, with its fingerprints of history reaching
+away back through centuries, its gay night life; and the affection
+the twins felt for their host and hostess kept them in the old city
+for over two months while the grim old man at Hill Head speculated on
+how much they were absorbing of continental affairs that would be of
+utility in increasing their ability to make money.
+
+“Of the two boys perhaps the hostess preferred the company of
+Alexander--‘Sandy’ his friends called him. They frequently visited
+points of interest together, while James and John after visiting the
+office of the latter would attend a boxing match or visit a variety
+show matinee.
+
+“Because the hostess preferred home and her baby girl, she seldom
+accompanied the boys in their night prowls and frequently Sandy stayed
+at home for company.
+
+“Now, Mr. Montrose, God knows that was natural enough, as James had
+a bent for pokin’ into the odd places at night. John was of the same
+mind. You must remember that he was newly married, only a little more
+than a couple of years and until his friends came, London at night
+was to him as much an unknown country as it was to the Craigheads.
+Newmarket, Chinese runaways, the quarters of sailors near the river,
+the underworld of a great metropolis, kept these two boys absorbed;
+often times they were out most of the night. Alexander seemed to care
+nothing for all this, preferring a quiet evening at home.
+
+“Montrose, I’m not a suspicious mon,” McFarlane shot at me as though I
+had questioned the propriety of Alexander’s spending his evenings with
+his hostess, “and, Montrose, I’m not criticizin’ onybody, nor makin’
+aspersions,” he resumed, “but one night when both Craighead boys were
+out, John, havin’ stayed at home, a terrible thing happened.
+
+“James Craighead was leavin’ a theater on the Strand about eleven
+o’clock that night; just as he stepped across the walk to enter a cab,
+his friend Blankleigh, with eyes blazin’ like a madman’s, eyewitnesses
+testified, shot him through the heart, then threw the pistol into the
+gutter and stood wi’ arms folded until seized by a policeman.
+
+“When the murdered mon, who the witnesses said was facin’ the murderer
+and smilin’, fell on his face, his head a’most touched Blankleigh;
+somebody turned him onto his back and when Blankleigh saw the face of
+the twin and recognized that it was James, he said, ‘My God! what hae
+I done,’ and struggled to recover the weapon but the police snapped
+handirons on and carried him off to prison.
+
+“Montrose, I spent months gettin’ all the details o’ this period in the
+life and trial of John Hogarth Blankleigh--”
+
+“Hogarth!” I yelled, bringing McFarlane fairly out of his chair;
+“Hogarth! why Hogarth is my reason for being here; what is his
+connection with this history?”
+
+McFarlane leaned forward saying, “Mon, mon, ye’re overly excited;
+perhaps ye are too late ailin’ to hae the judgment ye need to advise
+me.”
+
+He listened patiently while I explained my errand to Craighead Hall,
+then said, “It’s merely a middle name; there are aplenty o’ Hogarths
+in England. If ye interrupt me like that ye’ll never hear me through.
+
+“It seems,” he resumed, “that John intended the bullet for Alexander;
+the boys were verra much alike in height and build and probably, though
+there was no evidence adduced at the trial, he was crazed through
+jealousy of Alexander. He rotted in prison for months, never speakin’
+to a soul; would not permit his wife e’en to see him when she recovered
+from an almost fatal sickness.
+
+“At the bar of Old Bailey he pleaded guilty and was sentenced to spend
+the remainder of his life in the penal colony called Van Diemen’s
+Land--he never saw wife or child again.”
+
+As McFarlane talked, my mind traveled back to Hugh’s story. I heard
+and yet did not hear the Scotchman speaking. Things began to piece
+themselves together in my brain--a patchwork quilt.
+
+I sat dreaming, but Mac’s eyes were evidently upon me as he said, “Mon,
+mon, are ye heedin’ me; ye ken this John Hogarth Blankleigh was your
+John Blank, Hugh’s friend and I hae his story, e’en to his queer doin’s
+since his death, though I don’t hold to such things--they are uncanny
+machinations of auld clutie.”
+
+“Go ahead,” I said, “I am all attention and shall not interrupt again.”
+
+Mac settled back, saying, “Ye didna interrupt, but ye canna sense a
+thing when your wits are awa’ wool-gatherin’.”
+
+I remained quiet.
+
+“The deeil was to pay at Hill Head when the auld man Craighead got word
+that his son James was deed,” resumed McFarlane.
+
+“The newspapers printed the usual sensational news. Nobody saw the
+bereaved auld mon when he read that the cause of his son’s death was
+jealousy, though Blankleigh had ne’er said ane word but ‘Guilty,’ the
+papers made out that it was well founded, Alexander and Mrs. Blankleigh
+havin’ been seen togither overmuch.
+
+“We may only guess at the old man’s line of reasonin’. Every copy
+of the London and Glasgow papers containin’ anythin’ aboot the case
+was carefully filed and rested in his strong box at the time of the
+death--yes, and long after.
+
+“Think of the shock; he thought of his boys about to return, broadened
+through the experience that comes of continental travel, and learned
+that they had been in London all the time. Nobody ever knew his
+feelin’s. Doubtless in his stern way, his twin boys, for whom the
+mother had given her life, meant as much to this lone auld mon as do
+children to other parents, but he was silent.
+
+“He sent for his solicitor, willed awa’ all property not subject to
+entail; disinherited the survivin’ son after givin’ him fifty thousand
+pounds sterlin’--and his curse. He refused to see Alexander who went
+home to seek forgiveness; had him turned awa’ at the gates which were
+locked against every man, with instructions to see his solicitor.
+
+“He died some fifteen or saxteen years afterward never havin’ set eyes
+on his boy from the day the twins left for the Hook of Holland on their
+holiday trip.
+
+“Now, Mr. Montrose, pay attention; here is the delicate and most
+difficult business that brought me across the water. Over nine months,
+the register says, after the date of the murder of James Craighead,
+Ruth Blankleigh gave birth to a boy--that boy is known to you as Hugh
+Craighead.”
+
+“My God, McFarlane, can this be possible?” I said in an awed whisper.
+“Illegitimate--Hugh illegitimate? Why the man is noble, proud--what
+will this mean?”
+
+“Aye, that’s the rub, mon, that’s what I’m askin’ ye--how can we break
+it to him?” McFarlane dejectedly replied. “I’m marrit to his sister,
+Blankleigh’s first born, but oh, mon, she’s made o’ different stuff.
+Ye ken Hugh was alys pulin’ as a boy. I reared him wi’ the help o’ God
+and his sister Alix, frae a wee laddie to man’s estate. He was always a
+sensitive youth--even Alix doesna ken how to deal wi’ him.”
+
+McFarlane fell into a moody silence, then added, “The birth-register;
+an’ I could hae laid eyes on it first, the date would not hae so
+registered.”
+
+“Tell me all,” I said, “Did Craighead acknowledge him as his son?”
+
+Yet, I reflected, which was the more consoling thought, to acknowledge
+sonship to a man humiliated as Blank had been or to bear the stain of
+illegitimacy? Then the mother, the sainted mother of Hugh’s tenderest
+memory--what of her? And I could see no light.
+
+McFarlane was again proceeding in his inimitable, even, yet jerky
+enunciation. “A year later, Alexander Craighead married the widow of
+John Hogarth Blankleigh, for the law of England held the felon as dead
+as though sax feet beneath the sod. He adopted both children, Alix and
+Hugh, and the papers in the proceedin’ affirm that both are the issue
+of John and Ruth Blankleigh and by my hope of heaven, Montrose, I
+believe this true, save for the pesky birth-book--but how to make the
+world believe it is beyond me and I am afraid of how Hugh will take it.”
+
+“He is very much a man,” I interposed, “though the stain on his
+mother’s name is a bad feature.”
+
+“Weel, weel,” McFarlane resumed. “We shall see. Anyway, the young ane
+was Craighead’s chield, that’s certain. She doesna resemble either Hugh
+or my wife; I refer to Elaine.
+
+“When Hugh’s father--by adoption I mean,” corrected Mac, “came over to
+Scotland on learnin’ that the auld mon was deed, he found the property
+so tied up that he couldna get anywhere in a settlement. I think hadna
+auld Alexander died suddenly, he would hae had Hill Head plastered with
+squatter’s titles as a hindrance to his son’s succession.
+
+“I was employed by Hugh’s adopted father in the disentanglement of his
+affairs and we were in the midst of the work when my client was found
+dead on the far side of the sheep pasture. He had been thrown from a
+horse that he had ridden for months. The beast was grazin’ nearby when
+the shepherd saw him--no accountin’ for such things.
+
+“Poor Mrs. Craighead, husband gone, children in Canada, and about to
+become a mother. The shock killed her, Montrose. She wouldna hear of
+anythin’ except that I go bring her bairns, just as though they were in
+the next shire.
+
+“That was a great adventure for me, and oh mon, when I set eyes on that
+girl Alix down at the pier at this very spot; when I saw how masterful
+she was, my mind was made up; she should be mine, whether or no. She
+took a lot of persuadin’ though, and would not permit me to become a
+comfortable married man for years.”
+
+“Hugh has recounted the bringing up of Elaine and himself,” I said.
+
+“You should hae seen the boy take o’er the property of auld Sandy
+Craighead though,” the Scot resumed. “The old surrogate was opposed
+to it, but the law was wi’ me and at that time, three hundred thousand
+pounds came to Hugh--yes, the children are rich beyond their needs,
+but there is anither estate that belongs to Hugh--the estate of old
+John Blankleigh, through his son John H., who lost his entail, it was
+claimed when he was declared a felon.
+
+“It was a pretty pickle I found when I first undertook to unravel the
+thing. Hugh, if legitimate, was, in law, a posthumous child as he came
+to the mother after the father’s conviction and there’s the damnable
+birth-record which must be corrected, and that’s what will save the
+estate or I am no solicitor.
+
+“He must go to England and lay claim to his own and it’s a pretty
+property, a thousand broad acres and a manor-house that puts this old
+castle to shame.”
+
+“When did you first learn that the children were adopted son and
+daughter?” I interposed.
+
+“An auld servant gave me the first hint,” Mac responded. “When I came
+here after the children they were Craigheads as far as I knew; though I
+was his counsellor he never said otherwise--had I not been clean daft
+coortin’ Alix for years I would hae been wise to the situation much
+earlier.
+
+“I found in an old strong box the newspaper articles relatin’ to the
+case of John Blankleigh and pieced the whole thing together. The
+record of adoption was in London. Hugh was Alexander’s legal heir and
+he is also the legal heir of Blankleigh.
+
+“At first when I investigated at Blankleigh’s home, a woman lived
+there; the house was never closed, though this woman, a sister of
+Blankleigh’s, later disappeared. A couple, man and wife, old servants,
+looked after the house. All the tenements were let, nobody knew
+where Margaret Blankleigh was, all knew that John was in Tasmania or
+dead, but this old couple answered all inquiries by sayin’ that Miss
+Margaret was travelin’ on the continent and frequently they kept off
+trouble-makers by reportin’ that she had been home but had just gone
+abroad again.
+
+“Hugh saw her once on a channel boat. Of course, after John escaped and
+went to Canada, he had to keep in hidin’. I think, Montrose, that the
+brother and sister died about the same time. She was buried from her
+home.
+
+“Then the trouble began. A scamp of a cousin filed a claim as heir to
+the Blankleigh estate. I was near comin’ to get Hugh then, though not
+ready, but on interviewin’ the cousin’s solicitors I learned that their
+client could not be found,” and here McFarlane stopped short, grasped a
+handful of his curly hair and gave it a sharp pull, his eyes riveted on
+mine seemed to expand. Quietly he said, “Gordon Montrose, what did ye
+say was the name of the mon ye were searchin’ for?”
+
+“Hogarth, James Hogarth, Winchester, England,” I replied.
+
+“Then by the Hall of Holyrood, they are ane and the same,” Mac boomed
+at me. “James Hogarth, son o’ the brither o’ John Hogarth Blankleigh’s
+mother, Hugh’s cousin and a bad mon, a ne’er-do-well, who gambled and
+dissipated. He made the claim and disappeared.”
+
+I sat silent, thinking, piecing together the threads. McFarlane gazed
+at the ceiling for a moment or so, then said, “What did the veelin come
+snoopin’ round here for? Ye were on the right track, Montrose, but
+verra late; seven years will soon be here since the claim was filed
+and unless Hugh’s heirship is presented and proven the British Crown
+will be soon the richer by hundreds of thousands of pounds sterlin’.
+’Twould be a pity, mon, to let that get oot o’ the family,” and the
+Scot solicitor got up and paced the floor.
+
+My mind was harking back to a lone cabin beyond the ash swamp to a
+night described by Hugh, when he found himself in the embrace of John
+Blank. What must have been the anguish of that father, realizing that
+his own son fainted at sight of his terrible deformities? Providence
+was certainly in a grim mood when it brought within three miles of each
+other John Blankleigh and Alexander Craighead--Blankleigh a felon,
+hiding from God and the world, Craighead, disgraced, disinherited by an
+aggrieved father, fleeing to the wilderness with the woman of his heart
+and her two innocent children.
+
+A picture of the verse on John Blank’s tombstone came before my eyes,
+
+  “_The day will come when I shall rise,
+    And meet my dear ones in the skies._”
+
+It was not meaningless to the despairing father--nor to me now.
+
+Craighead could not have been a bad-intentioned man. Love is a strange
+emotion--all barriers give way, be it strong enough; anything short of
+taking life is excusable.
+
+McFarlane broke in on me, “Montrose, God Almighty brought these people
+together in this out-of-the-world place for a purpose. It is up to us
+to find out what that purpose was,” adding as he took up and started
+to put on his topcoat which had been draped into his chair, “Alix will
+fash me when she espies the wrinkles in this; I’m goin’ oot to admire
+the dawgs and think on it.”
+
+What a peculiar character I thought; used good English when on
+guard--reverted to his native tongue when aroused--a good clear
+thinker. Doubtless he would find the way to approach Hugh on the
+delicate subject that we had discussed.
+
+As for my telling that sensitive fellow that his paternity was in
+question--why, the thought was revolting--yet it must be done.
+
+I met them at the stairtop, Hugh’s arm encircling the waist of
+Elaine. Back at the doorway from the orchard, Mac and Alix were
+evidently exchanging hurried confidences, and there followed Estelle,
+my erstwhile nurse, and the red-haired secretary Hunt, carrying a
+portmanteau.
+
+They were all evidently in high spirit. Hugh called: “Hello, Gordon,
+here you are, come and kiss the first bride to enter Craighead Hall;
+may there soon be another.” And he whirled Elaine away and pulled me
+forward to where Estelle was standing, a blush that would have shamed
+many a rose on her fair face. I kissed her and congratulated the
+secretary--I could not remember his name at the moment, but I shook his
+hand so heartily and for such an extended period that both Hugh and
+Mac rallied me, “I believe the man is envious” from Hugh and from Mac,
+“Methinks he doth congratulate too much; he is embarrassed.”
+
+Elaine had disappeared. Alix took the bride to a room which adjoined
+that usually occupied by the secretary; then we four men repaired to
+the Hall where Hugh poured out four generous drinks and we toasted the
+groom.
+
+Hugh jokingly admonished the newly-wedded man that in this house of
+men he must prove himself a super-husband or risk losing his treasure
+and adding with a wink at Mac, “You must be especially alert while
+Mr. Montrose is about--he is a very attractive and susceptible young
+fellow.”
+
+Of course I joined in the laughter, but I kept thinking: “If Hugh but
+knew!” He revered his mother; his sensitive soul would perish at the
+parallel being drawn here, the Craighead boys’ visit to the bride and
+groom in England in the long ago and the sequence.
+
+Late that night, McFarlane gently tapped at my door. “I hae a monstrous
+proposal to make to ye, mon,” was his greeting as he stepped inside the
+room.
+
+“Not murder, I hope,” I returned lightly, he looked so serious.
+
+“Nay, Montrose, worse than that. I’m contemplatin’ traffic with the
+deeil.”
+
+“And you presume that I am a more fit intermediary than you. That’s
+flattering,” I replied.
+
+“I’m serious, mon,” he replied, “we want John Blank’s shade to come
+oot o’ his grave just this once to tell Hugh why he thought his wife
+untrue to him,” continuing, “Hugh ne’er wrote ane word on that i’ all
+his report of Blank’s communications, which I feel is mighty peculiar;
+though I don’t believe i’ the thing--not a whit.”
+
+“Rather inconsistent for a solicitor. If you do not believe the
+communications, why try now to get others?” I rejoined.
+
+“Oh weel,” he replied, “i’ a case o’ this kind ane must perforce get
+a’ ane can on the subject. ’Tis goin’ straicht against a’ my beliefs,
+though the writin’s o’ Elaine are well borne oot by the evidence.
+
+“God save us! I hope the Almighty will not take offense that a gude
+churchman should so disrespect the Holy Word as to hae dealin’s wi’ the
+minions o’ the Fallen Ane,” and the religious Scot looked piously up at
+the black beams in the high ceiling, doubtless with an unspoken prayer
+in his heart.
+
+“But, Montrose, what now suggests itself is, can ye not hae Elaine
+call up the speerit just this once and ask it just ane question which
+ye and I shall prepare in writin’? I suspect the mind o’ John Hogarth
+Blankleigh was tampered with or he never would hae gone huntin’ for
+Craighead wi’ murderous intention.”
+
+“Not for a thousand Hughs and all the property in England,” I heatedly
+replied. “I would not see the face of that girl blanched to a
+death-mask if I knew that everything could be satisfactorily explained
+and James Craighead brought back to life. Why man, you are asking
+something preposterous.”
+
+“Weel, weel, then what hae ye to suggest? It goes sorely against my
+religious beliefs, the tryin’ o’ the experiment.”
+
+At the moment I despised the Scot for the exposition of his selfish
+reason for a willingness to abandon the project. It was not on Elaine’s
+account. His mawkish fear of God dissuaded him, though his next words,
+in a measure, reinstated him in my esteem.
+
+“I would risk the damnation of my immortal soul, friend Montrose, and
+the little girl is just as much my baby as she is Hugh’s. The guid Lord
+knows an I thocht there was any risk to Elaine girlie I’d cut off my
+richt hand before I’d write oot any question, real or hypothetical,”
+and his face spoke the truth of his expressions.
+
+Mac was a fanatically religious Scotchman who would doubt verified
+messages from the dead, but who, if shown a weather-beaten olive-wood
+stick tapering at both ends and informed by an ordained Presbyterian
+minister that it was a “round from Jacob’s ladder” would probably have
+said, “Praised be God, the truths of Holy Writ cannot be refuted.”
+
+We parted without perfecting any plan, concluding to sleep on the
+subject and I retired sad at heart. Unaccountable, but the woes of this
+family had gotten into my blood and I had not had even a glimpse of
+_her_ since Hugh swung her from his arm down the hallway.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+I was pressed into service next day. The priest had sent for Hugh and
+requested that I come along. We set out early; the men were silently
+going about their work. It was a relief to hear one call to the other
+occasionally, and Hugh, it seemed, was trying to bring back the habit
+of sociability lost in prison for he had a cheerful word for those whom
+we met.
+
+Father Nealon greeted us like brothers and proceeded like the business
+man he was, to relate his plans for getting signatures to Hugh’s
+petition, saying that he had had an interview with the Honorable Mr.
+Harris and received his unqualified promise of support of Hugh’s bill
+for enlarging his prison work. In return the father had promised to
+insure the return of Harris to his seat in Parliament. It appeared that
+an opponent showing great strength was in the field.
+
+The peculiar experiences of that week’s work--for it was
+work--unceasing far into each night, were novel and interesting. We
+slept where it was convenient for the farmer to “sleep” us.
+
+Hugh and a young assistant to Father Nealon worked the “Irish
+Settlement” while an Archie Graham and I called on every farmer of
+Scotch lineage in the district from Blink Bonny to Devil’s Valley, a
+hilly country closely settled by Scots.
+
+The hills and valleys probably kept in mind the Highlands of their old
+home country. I concluded that should I ever seek political office
+anywhere, I shall first enlist the clergy’s sympathy and interest, for
+let it be recorded here, the petition held the names of two-thirds of
+the voters in the Honorable Mr. Harris’ district. The gentleman was
+elected, presented Hugh’s draft of a statute, which was buried under an
+avalanche of adverse criticism.
+
+The argument prevailed that prisons were meant to be places to which a
+man once liberated would rather die than return, but Hugh was far away
+when the fate of his idea was, at least for a season, sealed.
+
+Roughing it had toughened me and Hugh and I returned to Craighead Hall,
+he elated and in high spirits, I dreading the overdue disclosure, “time
+meanin’ muckle” as McFarlane had put it.
+
+Three newly pardoned “guests” had arrived during our absence;
+short-haired, furtive-eyed, pitiable spectacles, seemingly out of
+place, even among those who boasted only a few months’ residence at the
+Hall.
+
+Hugh was all sympathy for them and I saw very little of him that
+Saturday night except at dinner. McFarlane looked anxious and I thought
+a little desirous of avoiding my eye.
+
+Alix and Elaine were both, as always, gracious, and I was surprised and
+delighted when Elaine, on leaving the dining table, beckoned me with
+her eyes. I could scarcely credit my senses but noted that she turned
+at the doorway and meaningly looked at me.
+
+I escorted Alix to the stair, then with a muttered apology for leaving
+her, stepped through the open library door.
+
+Elaine was standing on the hearth, looking pensively into the blaze
+in the fireplace. As I spoke her name, she laid a finger on her lips,
+motioning silence or secrecy.
+
+She stopped me with a low-spoken, “Gordon, I must talk with you. James
+has told me everything and I am going to try, though I have not had any
+call to write for weeks--not since, no, not even that night when I had
+the dream about Alix.”
+
+I was taken aback, dumbfounded, could have cursed McFarlane to his
+face. I did protest to Elaine that she should not have been worried
+with the matter and called McFarlane a blundering old fogey.
+
+She ignored my railing.
+
+“Gordon, it has to be, I wish you would come here about midnight. I
+have tried, tried hard to find John Blank,” and she placed her hands
+over her eyes and whispered. “I cannot think of him as--I cannot call
+him Hugh’s father. The thought is too awful. A murderer, a convict--I
+never thought of him in that light before.
+
+“I must be alone until then; he will come here when it is quiet, if
+he will ever come, but you be here at twelve. Alix does not know that
+James has talked to me. He and you and I, Gordon, are confederates. You
+should know as soon as possible.”
+
+I tried to take her hand, but seemingly the effort passed unnoticed as
+she turned from me, saying, “Now, Gordon, I wish to be alone; will you
+please throw the catch on the door. I want only the light of the fire,”
+as I looked toward the unlighted lamp.
+
+I slipped out, up the stairs and to my room, feeling that I must
+avoid seeing McFarlane or he would insist on accompanying me to the
+midnight tryst. Four hours--an eternity, and yet what might not happen.
+Alternations of hope and fear--I did not pray.
+
+Gradually the place settled to a stillness. The frail girl and myself
+in the lonesome gloom of the library were the only two souls in that
+household of nearly half a hundred, who had not surrendered physical
+consciousness into the keeping of the inner being who never wholly
+sleeps--the engineer of that wonderful machine, the body, the whisperer
+who gives the signals, but cannot, alas, always force obedience on its
+twin, the physical being.
+
+At three minutes before twelve I was stealing down the broad stairway;
+a single light in the great hall was sufficient only to make the gloom
+in the corners more intense. I quietly turned the doorknob, forgetting
+that I had thrown the catch, then rapped gently, then more urgently as
+no response came.
+
+Finally the door was opened. Elaine, whose back-tilted head and bright
+eyes certainly negatived any visitation, said quietly, “Come in, and
+you too, James,” and then I noticed McFarlane at my elbow.
+
+Seated near the chimney-place, without light other than that given
+off by the slow-burning fire, we must indeed have appeared like three
+conspirators or that unfortunate triangle--two men courting the same
+girl.
+
+Elaine said regretfully, “I’m afraid my muse has fled, my gift has
+gone. I have even tried my old friend, the planchette. No use, I am
+just an ordinary girl again,” and smilingly she pointed to pencil and
+paper and the aid to beginners in mysticism which were lying on the
+table.
+
+We had talked probably ten minutes.
+
+“Montrose, you are the man to tell him,” McFarlane insisted, “but ye
+must be carefu’ not to go into the matter o’ the newspaper reports.”
+
+A voice from the darkness near the door, the voice of a stranger, said
+quietly, but as though under strain, “I shall know every word from
+beginning to end.”
+
+We three started to our feet to behold Hugh, a long dark figure in
+dressing gown and slippers, standing in the room. He was leaning
+forward, his left hand clenched and in his right a murderous-looking,
+long-barreled cavalry pistol.
+
+While for the fraction of a second I was too stunned even to speak, not
+so Elaine; she flew across the room, grabbed the pistol-hand and had
+the weapon in her possession in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+Hugh laughed; the sound was not pleasant. The man was unnatural; held
+in his eyes, as one saw at close quarters, such a glare as is seen in
+the eyes of a wild animal caught in a trap.
+
+“Not yet, child,” he said, looking fixedly at Elaine, then again the
+same loud, mirthless laugh. “I was looking for prowlers, thieves,” then
+he gravely bowed to his two silent male auditors, saying, “I beg the
+pardon of every manumitted unfortunate under this roof. What of the
+story you have been rehearsing, you poor child and you two cowards? Do
+you think me so weak a creature that I cannot be told openly what you
+have been whispering for a fortnight? That I am a bastard, the son of
+a wanton? Well, by God, I’ll have the truth and before we leave this
+room,” and he turned and slammed shut the door with such force that
+the very bookshelves felt the jar.
+
+None of us had a chance to speak. Elaine, wild-eyed, threw herself onto
+Hugh’s breast, her arms about his neck, as he turned to face us. He
+caught her up, walked with long strides down the room to the panel in
+the wall which opened at his tread, stood the scared girl on her feet
+and said, “To your room, girl--go to your room, and on your life, not a
+word to your sister.”
+
+The panel closed, there was a muffled sound, an ineffectual effort at
+opening the panel from the other side, a pounding of small fists. Hugh
+had secured the door.
+
+He turned to the table, took off the shade from the lamp, calmly picked
+out a match from the holder, struck it and held it to the turned-up
+wick; then, without speaking, motioned to Mac and me as though we were
+two culprits, to be seated.
+
+I had noted from the corner of an eye that Mac had stooped and picked
+up the pistol from a huge black bearskin rug near where Elaine had been
+standing before she flung herself at Hugh and as the Scot, in obedience
+to Hugh’s unspoken command, moved to the big leather chair designated,
+the inconsequential thought: “What will happen if the chair is too
+narrow to admit Mac with that big gun protruding from his trousers
+pocket?” ran through my brain.
+
+All three seated, Hugh at the table like a judge and we two about six
+feet distant in chairs, Mac and I simultaneously started to speak. I
+do not know what I intended saying, as Hugh, as alert as a madman and
+having every appearance of derangement, held up a hand saying, “One at
+a time. Now, James McFarlane, make your accusation, but before God,
+if you as much as breathe calumny against my mother, I shall strangle
+you with these hands,” and he leaned forward, eyes glaring, with fists
+clenched and muscles strained just as though about to spring at the
+poor Scotchman who sat forward in his place, scared, shocked, but with
+a look of determination on his set face.
+
+I was alarmed as to the possible denouement. The storm was not blowing
+my way, but I felt cheapened and deeply sorrowful. Matters had taken an
+unfortunate trend. We had blundered and I reproached myself as a fool.
+
+McFarlane was speaking.
+
+“Mon, there’s naethin’ to worry aboot--’tis only this: your mither
+and Alix’ mither, the poor dear, was marrit to your father before she
+marrit Alexander Craighead.”
+
+“Who was my father then?” demanded Hugh.
+
+“Hold a moment,” Mac returned. “Not so fast my boy, ye ken Alix and I
+reared ye. My wifie kens the whole story and she is just as happy.”
+
+“No,” Hugh replied. “She has not been herself. She has not been happy
+since she came here.”
+
+“No wonder,” Mac argued, and I could see in him a quality, a calm
+persistence which, under the circumstances, drew my admiration.
+
+“Knowin’ that ye would be unduly disturbed at learnin’ the truth--”
+
+Hugh interrupted--“The truth, that’s what I want--the truth. I
+overheard enough. You said illegitimate,” pointing at Mac.
+
+“Nay, nay, mon, we were speakin’ o’ the way ye inherited auld Sandy
+Craighead’s property--the means, mon. Calm yoursel’, ye were his
+grandson by adoption only.”
+
+Hugh’s face had, from a flush, become deathly pale.
+
+“My father; out with it.”
+
+“Yes,” Mac said, nodding his head without pause. “Yes, your faither was
+the last of a fine auld English family who killed a mon--John Hogarth
+Blankleigh, and no relation of auld Sandy Craighead, and was deported.”
+
+“My mother?” and Hugh seemed to wail out the words.
+
+“Your mither marrit Craighead after the deportation to Tasmania. I hae
+been tryin’ to tell ye.”
+
+Something seemed to break in on Hugh’s senses. From straining forward
+in his chair toward Mac he suddenly sat bolt upright, said in a vacant
+manner:
+
+“Strange! Illusions that oft repeat themselves, fantasies which will
+not down. My God! John Blank!” and the man suddenly fell forward on his
+face.
+
+I thought him dead as we laid him on the lounge.
+
+Hurriedly I ran for Alix, I don’t know why. I did not have to go far.
+She and Elaine were just outside in the hall. They both rushed in and
+I turned my back on the family of four, so closely knit and yet at the
+moment, one member so metamorphosed by shock out of all semblance of
+the affectionate, considerate brother of a few short hours ago that he
+had become an alien--a stranger, to be tenderly handled, loved, yet
+held in awe if still alive, reverenced if dead.
+
+My thoughts were broken in upon by a petulant, peremptory order from
+Alix, bending over Hugh, “Go and get Estelle. Hurry--what are you
+standing there for?” and I recognized nerves, a tension to the breaking
+point, unconsciously seizing the first vent available for the release
+of surcharged emotion.
+
+We carried Hugh, still unconscious, to his room. Estelle was putting in
+order the bed from which Hugh had arisen to investigate the reason for
+the sounds of footsteps in this gaunt house, when we entered and as the
+covers were drawn over him, he opened his eyes, looking wildly first at
+Alix, then at Elaine, but the efficient Estelle, the physician among
+us, unflinchingly applied a hypodermic needle and my friend went to
+sleep.
+
+We were a sad couple at breakfast, McFarlane and I.
+
+“The doctor is here but muckle guid it does. Hugh will speak to
+nobody,” McFarlane told me, “and the women are about daft. He won’t
+look at them. We made a fine mess o’ it a’.”
+
+I was sitting by a comfortable fire in the library about ten o’clock
+that morning reading a letter from my firm in Philadelphia. Its import
+was that we must find Hogarth; Europe had been combed thoroughly and
+the man must be forthcoming or an estate worth millions would go to the
+crown and incidentally we stood to lose a modest reward of $100,000.
+
+“The estate must be an immense property, considering the large sum
+offered,” I was thinking while looking idly at the pointed flames as
+they shot up from the wood, then died down to a dull glow, when the
+door quietly opened and Hugh, fully dressed, stepped in.
+
+I sprang to my feet, all excitement.
+
+“Why Hugh!” was my surprised ejaculation.
+
+“Good morning, Gordon, I owe you an apology for my conduct last
+night,” the dear fellow said and his tone and demeanor spoke
+volumes--contrition, shame, a crushed man. He hung his head.
+
+I grasped him by both arms as they hung by his sides and gently shook
+him.
+
+“Hugh, Mac and I were asses not to consult you immediately on his
+arrival; nothing to overlook in you, old man. Forgive me my stupidity.
+I must have been carried away by Mac’s cunning Scotch secretiveness.”
+
+“I wish to go over the whole matter with you, Gordon, when it is all
+clear. I can then decide on my course. Now I am rather bewildered.”
+
+I softened the story McFarlane had told me, left out all question as to
+Hugh’s paternity. Once in that hour, Elaine looked into the room, but
+as Hugh’s back was turned while I faced the door from my side of the
+hearth, I went right on talking earnestly as though not seeing her. She
+withdrew.
+
+When I touched upon the friendship of the three boys, the Craighead
+twins and Blankleigh, tears came to the eyes of my auditor and as I
+told of the shooting of one of the Craigheads, the wrong twin, he
+shuddered as though he was cold, but he listened in silence.
+
+In telling of the wrath of old man Craighead and how his solicitor paid
+over to the surviving son £50,000 with the information that his father
+gave it to him with his curse and the order that he should “never again
+darken his door, was no longer his son” I am afraid I trenched on
+dangerous ground as Hugh sprang from his chair and commenced pacing
+the floor.
+
+“It’s not that I am the son of a murderer; God knows I have nothing but
+respect for the sorrows of John Blank,” Hugh said, in a grief-laden
+voice. “Everything points to the unspeakable. I must see the newspaper
+story, if I have to tear down the old homestead to find it. Why should
+my mother’s husband shoot down a guest in his home?” and the man
+increased his strides back and forth across the room without looking at
+me.
+
+“That is what we must find out, Hugh. We must trace down the cause of
+your father’s anger.”
+
+“Yes, though it lead to hell,” Hugh whispered.
+
+There was silence for a moment or two.
+
+“I cannot talk with James just yet. There is something here,” and
+he struck his left breast, “which forbids; nor can I bear to see my
+sisters. I shall come to your room tonight. In the meantime I shall
+ride over the farm,” and he started out.
+
+“Let me go with you, Hugh.”
+
+“No, I wish to be alone,” and correctly reading my thought, added,
+“Have no anxiety, I shall join you tonight when the family has retired.”
+
+He would not permit me to accompany him, but I watched him from the
+door in the upper hall as he, waving aside a stableman, contrary to
+custom, brought out his horse and slipped the joined bridle-reins over
+the animal’s head. Slowly for him, he climbed into the saddle and rode
+away at a fast canter, out toward the wood.
+
+I took a canoe, a handline, put on one of my host’s short deerskin
+jackets which I found in the boathouse, for it was a “raw” day, and
+went after northern pike and solitude. I found both in my unconsciously
+protracted paddle upriver.
+
+The landing without net or firearm of an immense pike after over two
+hours’ struggle, the greatest fishing adventure that had up to that
+day ever befallen me, took my thoughts clear away from that which had
+obsessed and depressed me.
+
+I awaited Hugh’s coming that night until late and then went to the
+barns intending to quietly, without alarming the family, send out a
+searching party. I lied to McFarlane, saying Hugh had told me he would
+not return from the village before midnight.
+
+It was past that hour when he rode quietly into the stable where I was
+anxiously passing the time with the man in charge.
+
+“Sorry to have kept you up,” was his quietly spoken greeting and as
+he tossed me a packet of letters, “Mail for you, Gordon, you are not
+forgotten of the world it seems,” and his tone was bitter.
+
+We walked through the orchard way into the house, neither speaking.
+Hugh seemed changed, his manner held a sort of aloofness new to him
+while with me. Evidently he had either forgotten his promise given
+during the day, to confer with me, or wished to avoid the interview as
+he turned to the stairhead with a brief “Good night” and was gone.
+
+The situation was embarrassing. Merely a guest--why should I feel that
+I alone must shoulder the burden or furnish a solution. The answer
+was patent--a dream engendered by a vision of a golden-haired girl,
+walking between the poplars, listening to the prattle of a wee boy as
+he confidently held her hand, of a lithesome young body which just for
+a moment I had once held close.
+
+My own affairs entirely forgotten, I sat day-dreaming that morning when
+Hugh quietly stepped into my room, looked furtively about, saying, “Can
+we talk without being interrupted--I presume you have had breakfast.”
+
+“Certainly,” I lied, noting the absence of my host’s usual
+punctiliousness. He had forgotten to say “good morning.”
+
+I had arisen as Hugh pulled a chair up to the hearth in which a small
+fire was burning and idly opened one of the letters from the half-dozen
+brought by him the night before; casting my eye over it I was suddenly
+aroused:
+
+“Listen to this, Hugh,” I exclaimed, “Sorry to inform you that we lost
+out on the English case, the heir to the Blankleigh estate, James
+Hogarth, has turned up without our aid and is pressing his case
+through a new firm of solicitors. Bagly, Atkins and Bagly write that
+they are not prepared to compensate our firm. In fact, Hogarth their
+client of seven years ago, persistently refuses even to see them, so
+you will appreciate that it will not be necessary for you to absent
+yourself longer.”
+
+Hugh broke in on my reading.
+
+“From your firm, Gordon? My course is clear. Today we shall come to
+an agreement. I must see this man. He may clear up a lot of the dark
+spots.”
+
+“Certainly, Hugh, you must go, the property belongs to you and Mr.
+McFarlane. You owe it to your father’s memory to make claim to what was
+his.”
+
+“I owe it to myself to ascertain much more than I know now,” was the
+rather sullen answer.
+
+“Elaine?” I said, attempting to get him to look directly at me, but
+he evaded my eye saying, “No time for that now, my friend. My sisters
+shall accompany me. I’ll need them in establishing things. McFarlane
+says we must hurry and he knows nothing about Hogarth’s reappearance.”
+
+Little did Craighead know of my inner feelings. It seemed as though
+a light had been snuffed out. That I would also go to England was my
+determination.
+
+Mac was consulted finally when I balked at Hugh’s proposal that I
+remain in charge of the Craighead property. I was for going along with
+the party whether or no, but finally, on Hugh’s promise to return as
+soon as the law’s demands were met, I gave in. He had urged unfinished
+work, many poor fellows languishing in prison, who must have a friendly
+hand to pull them out into the sunshine, urged the necessity of a firm,
+kindly hand in looking after the “guests” now at the Hall, the election
+of our member of Parliament and the introduction of his bill.
+
+Emphatically, I must stay. I could not leave him helpless, but not
+a word did he say of Elaine until I had assented to the proposed
+arrangement, then, after McFarlane had gone, as we clasped hands over
+our bargain the old Hugh came back for a moment as he smiled and said,
+“I shall come back, a man again--and bring my little sister” then added
+after a hesitation, the hard look coming into his eyes, “Or I shall
+join my father in his wanderings.”
+
+McFarlane lost his Scotch imperturbability when he learned of the
+appearance in England of Hogarth and set out at once for the village to
+arrange for passage home.
+
+Hugh invited me to ride over the place with him so that I might have
+the benefit of his suggestions as to the conduct of affairs during his
+absence. I was deeply impressed with his minute knowledge of every
+detail of farm operation and listened with interest as we rode from
+field to field, to plans for keeping busy every man in his charge.
+
+“There is no tonic like work,” he said. “It builds both body and brain
+and these poor boys need help for both and God knows, so do I.”
+
+From the hilltop, near the big maple, we saw Elaine ride out with the
+hounds and, as it was getting dark, I suggested that we go to meet her.
+
+Riding down the north slope of the hill, we struck the back roadway
+which in time brought us into the road leading from the locked gate
+which had on first sight aroused in me suspicion as to my personal
+safety.
+
+Hugh was silent, abstracted, engrossed with something. My horse was
+on the left, abreast of his, but he constantly looked to the right
+and seemed to be talking to himself. The words did not reach me, only
+sounds, and my attention was soon attracted to the baying of the hounds
+not far away.
+
+Suddenly out of the semi-darkness came Elaine, and Hugh and I
+separated, each springing his mount into the undergrowth to avoid being
+run down. She gave a wild hallo as she shot past. Then came the dogs,
+evidently in playful pursuit.
+
+There were six of the brutes within twenty yards of us. We had resumed
+the roadway with one accord. The hounds suddenly stopped, stood whining
+just a second or two, then with dismal howls turned tail and fled.
+Neither Hugh’s whistle or Elaine’s who had joined us, had any effect.
+The man-chasers had gone home.
+
+“Strange,” Elaine said as soon as she got her breath after the effort
+of whistling and quieting her horse. “I never saw the hounds disobey
+before; they must be getting cowardly.”
+
+“Perhaps they saw me,” I threw back from my position a length ahead.
+
+“What are you doing out in these woods; don’t you know something might
+happen to you?” Hugh said somewhat crossly.
+
+“I knew I should meet you, Hughie,” was the reply and I noted that she
+reached over and patted Hugh’s horse on the neck.
+
+“Better keep nearer the house,” came in sullen tones from Hugh, and
+Elaine spurred her horse forward. As she passed me, I thought I heard
+a little cry as of one in pain. I did not hesitate to follow her, but
+succeeded only in finding the white-haired foreman holding her horse in
+the stable yard.
+
+It was too dark to see, but I imagined her going through the orchard
+way, hurt, sore at heart at the unaccustomed mood of a brother whom she
+worshipped.
+
+I waited, but Hugh did not come and as I passed the kennels, I saw that
+the animals were quietly lounging about their little yard. I always
+gave them a wide berth, but on this occasion looked in at the wrinkled
+old leader and spoke. He merely showed the whites of his eyes and
+walked away.
+
+Just then I heard the clump-clump of a horse’s hoofs and walked over to
+the roadway which I had so recently taken at a gallop.
+
+Two riders about a hundred yards distant came toward me as I stood on
+the smooth graveled road. The light was scant, but I could see Hugh’s
+horse distinctly, the other vaguely. The air was still. Strange that
+the hoofbeats of only one horse came to me. My hair began to rise. I
+could not have moved. In a moment they came out of the gloom, close,
+and the horse on the left as I looked at them faded and Hugh reined up
+to say in a quiet voice, “Did Elaine get in safely?”
+
+The whole pack of hounds a few yards away gave vent to the most
+lugubrious of howls, bringing from Hugh an unusual “Damn those brutes;
+I’ll send them away.”
+
+My answer was, “My God, Hugh; who was that with you? I certainly saw
+another horse.”
+
+Hugh’s horse jumped as he touched it smartly with his crop and he
+called back, “Don’t wait for me for dinner. I have work to do.”
+
+I never learned what he did or where he went that night, but McFarlane
+who was an early riser, told me he saw him come up the veranda stairs
+at daybreak.
+
+He did not speak as Hugh looked worn and haggard.
+
+“Has the mon a lassie or does he dally with the cards?” McFarlane
+queried.
+
+I kept my counsel as to Hugh’s companion of the early evening, while
+assuring McFarlane that I was not aware before that our host dissipated
+in any way.
+
+The two days intervening before the day of the exodus were busy ones
+for me. I went over accounts with the secretary, met and talked to many
+of the “guests,” endeavoring to learn how the work was distributed,
+while Hugh informed each one that he was leaving me as fully empowered
+to look after their interests as though he were present. All were busy
+making ready for the eventful Sunday morning when they would make the
+downtrain at midday.
+
+There was a hardness about Hugh that was unexplainable. He made no
+reference to his companion on the ride back from the hill and I did not
+dare again to put the question.
+
+Saturday evening we all dined together in the great hall. The long
+expanse of polished wood, stretching beyond our party of five, down
+the sombre room with the vacant chairs, seemed to accentuate a feeling
+which the others apparently shared with me that we were but a remnant
+of a noble company which must at one time have filled the room. All
+seemed depressed. Wine, of which all partook, failed in bringing
+buoyancy. To me it was a sad function and though _she_ sat beside me, I
+could neither talk nor eat.
+
+McFarlane discoursed on the subject of most interest to him, the
+reappearance of Hogarth and the necessity for hurry that no decree in
+the Blankleigh case might be entered before the true heir in person was
+presented in court. I did not follow him, nor did Hugh, apparently, and
+Elaine broke in, during one of his lengthy speeches to lay her hand on
+my arm and say, “Gordon, I am sorry we are going.”
+
+Perhaps she saw something in my eyes, for I could not reply, but only
+looked at her, for she added, “I shall come back--with Hughie, the old
+Hughie, and we shall have such good days together again.”
+
+I could only reach for her hand which had fallen below the level of the
+table and press it.
+
+I felt ashamed of my womanishness. When the others arose, I could
+scarcely stand.
+
+Said Alix: “Elaine, we have a lot of things to pack. Good night Mr.
+Montrose, see you later, Hugh,” and we three men resumed our seats only
+to listen to the Scotch solicitor’s resumption of the trend of his
+thoughts.
+
+Only for a moment, though, for Hugh, with “I have too many matters
+to attend to, tonight, boys, you will have to excuse me,” arose and
+disappeared up the stairway.
+
+The Queen Anne liqueur which had previously always added zest to my
+smoke, was bitter in my mouth, and I threw away my cigar and sought my
+room.
+
+Once in the night the lonesome baying of hounds came to my ears. I
+heard the baby cry as though in pain. The sweetness had departed
+from my life. Asleep, I saw a spectral horseman--headless, no--only
+lacking ears, but the hands that held the bridle-rein--they were strong
+hands, white, shapely, well-formed, a gentleman’s hands--and Williams
+was saying, “The house is astir early this morning, sir. You wish to
+see the party off? Shall I serve breakfast, sir? The others have all
+partaken.”
+
+“Thank you, no, I wish no breakfast, I shall be down in a minute,”
+I replied, my heart sinking as I realized that this was the hour of
+parting and I had soddenly overslept.
+
+The luggage was afloat in a batteau paddled by six men when I stepped
+through the French windows and looked toward the river. Another large
+boat was being made comfortable with cushions and a carpet of furs.
+
+I ran down the outside stair and entered the front door expecting to
+find the travelers grouped in the hall awaiting me, but it was nearly
+an hour before McFarlane appeared, carrying his bag and calling, “Come
+on, come on, an there should be a mishap, we shall miss the train.”
+
+Estelle, her arms about Elaine, Alix with Fong Wing close behind
+carrying a package of considerable proportions, but evidently light,
+came down the stairs and McFarlane, eyeing the package, said “Wifie, I
+thocht everything had gone,” bringing the reply, “Oh this, I could not
+leave these black fox skins.”
+
+“Good morning, Gordon,” Elaine extended her hand and turned aside
+her head, but I saw a tear. I grasped the hand in both of mine, half
+dragging her, I am afraid, out toward the waiting boat.
+
+Neither she nor I, it appeared, could speak a word. How strong were her
+affections for this wilderness home! If the good God had only disposed
+her toward me--no, there was boundless love for Hugh--for the Hall,
+perhaps even for her horse. Certainly she reluctantly parted from her
+servant Fong, for her last words to me were, “Gordon, be good to Fong
+until I come back.”
+
+But a wonderful memory lived with me; it buoyed me up during the long
+months that followed; it lives with me yet.
+
+When the three, no, four voyagers (I almost forgot the child, he was
+so interested and quiet) were seated in the boat with four paddlers
+in their places, Hugh came running down the gravel walk. Just before
+he reached the pier, when the men who had congregated to wave an
+adieu had stepped back and Estelle was saying goodbye to Alix, Elaine
+beckoned me with a look.
+
+I was very near, and went on one knee to hear the whisper which her
+lips indicated. Suddenly she leaned forward and kissed me full on my
+mouth, then put her hands over her face--and the boat moved out, Hugh
+calling, “Goodby, Gordon, and good luck.”
+
+Sorry for me? Yes, she pitied my loneliness. I watched the boat land
+on Verde Island. A pain indescribable possessed me, and yet that kiss,
+that little moist red mouth pressed against mine--I would not have
+changed personality or circumstance with any man in the world. Her
+friendship, her pity for my evident loneliness even, weighed more than
+all the loves of history.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Alone, all alone, I dined with Estelle, now the hostess, and her
+husband, and yet in this household I was alone. My rising hour was
+regular, now that I was in charge. Eight o’clock saw me at the stables
+or riding about the place overseeing the fall work.
+
+I cultivated the friendship of the dogs, turned them loose to accompany
+me on many a long ride, even learned to whistle so that they came at
+my call, all much to the disgust of Fong Wing who never ceased to fear
+the brutes. I used Hugh’s horse and it pained me to see Estelle astride
+Elaine’s beautiful mount, but time wears away many sharp edges.
+
+Father Nealon was a regular visitor. He never failed to interest me and
+all the men liked him. We never ventured far on theology. When I told
+him of the shadowy rider whom I saw with Hugh, he crossed himself and
+said, “‘And forthwith Jesus gave them leave and the unclean spirits
+went out and entered into the swine.’ Who am I but a servant of our
+Lord and why should I deny his works and his word? It is not given
+to me to see these things clearly, but my faith! I would have taken
+oath that I did see a spirit on the occasion of my first visit to this
+house.”
+
+November came with snow and ice. And one day came a letter
+from McFarlane, quaint and brief. The usual scold at the law’s
+circumlocutions, but full of assurances. Family all well; not a word
+in particular. Heart-beats quickened at sight of a dainty envelope
+superscribed, I knew, by a delicate white hand which I had held in my
+own on that last night. What hopes I entertained, what dreams I wove as
+I turned it over and over before courage came!
+
+Was it a joy or was it a disappointment? Here it is:
+
+“Gordon dear: I am not happy. Hughie has changed so much. We shall
+soon see the dear old Hall again. You looked so miserable but I would
+feel disappointed if you did not miss us. Teach Estelle to skate.
+We are leaving tomorrow for Scotland. Don’t write until I send our
+address--will it be Craighead Hall? Much love--from all--Elaine.
+
+“P.S. Kindly see that my tree is banked--you know--from the frost,
+and have Nell sharp-shod if Estelle uses her. My skates are in the
+boathouse, above the door. E. C.”
+
+I studied the dash preceding the “from all,” wished the last two words
+had been omitted, but then--
+
+The tree was banked and the mare re-shod. The skates even were
+retrieved and ground, but as a skater Estelle was a failure, and I
+waited patiently until December for the promised address. Then I wrote
+to her at the London address of McFarlane and waited.
+
+Time did not stand still. Surprising how many vexatious happenings can
+befall in the conduct of a large plantation, even when there exists no
+lack of funds. When winter came in earnest, we started building the
+big sawmill at Gold Creek, a mile west of the Hall. Foundations were
+in shortly after Hugh left. The dam, the race and spillway were his
+handiwork. Chisholm, one of the “guests” was a millwright, Atkinson,
+another “guest,” a carpenter contractor before misfortune overtook him.
+The men were willing workers and the building soon took form.
+
+At Christmas it was under roof. Aye, Christmas--that was a day of
+memories--memories of my boyhood home just outside the city, mother and
+father, aunt and uncle, our entire family, but always boys and girls
+and games and joy. How different this Christmas!
+
+School and college days and each Christmas at home until at twenty only
+aunt and uncle welcomed me. Both parents had passed on. At twenty-one,
+aunt had died and at twenty-five I was alone in the world without a
+relative; home sold, a city dweller, spending Christmas, my day of
+memories, in the most lonesome place in the world--a man’s club in a
+great city.
+
+That Christmas night we served a banquet. The capacity of the great
+baronial hall was taxed, for Estelle had brought in a number of girl
+friends. It was the idea of Estelle, who sat at the head of the long
+oak table, hostess in the place where _she_ belonged. The men were in
+their best clothes; there were no dinner coats. Fong Wing was ornate
+in a richly embroidered Mandarin jacket and sang a weird song of Hong
+Kong Hong Kongee to his own accompaniment on a one-stringed Chinese
+instrument.
+
+There was talent in this family of one-time derelicts, now real men of
+worth, and I thought as I looked up the table from my place at the east
+end what a noble work Hugh had undertaken.
+
+Tables are said to groan; this one was too solid for complaint, but it
+lacked nothing of the load. Great Canadian pike, baked whole, taken
+through the ice. I had watched the men in small houses on runners
+with a spear-handle protruding from the top, dangling an artificial
+minnow on the end of a line about five feet down through a hole in the
+ice; a pike would strike, down went the barbed spear and the thing
+was accomplished. Turkeys, venison, bear steak, vegetables from the
+vaults, apple--even pumpkin-pies and a great assortment of cakes, the
+especial pride of the cook, were a part of the menu.
+
+A toast to Hugh was the only drink.
+
+The Chinaman saved his glass of wine, arose and in a quavering voice
+said, “I dlink to lillee Mistless of Claighead Hall,” and every man
+stood and drained his glass.
+
+I could not have brought her name into this company, but I loved the
+Chinese boy for the act.
+
+Was it right that the long table should have been set aside that they
+should dance? I permitted it.
+
+Two well-handled violins were produced and for the first time the
+polished floor of Craighead Hall, liberally sprinkled with powder, felt
+the rhythm of feet, dainty and substantial, gliding to music over its
+smooth expanse.
+
+I wonder what Hugh would have thought had he dropped in that night.
+But was not a renewal of acquaintance with social usages a necessary
+part of the plan of the institution? I stayed in the hall until the
+table was back in place and every lady guest departed in charge of the
+hostess.
+
+That morning, before retiring, I re-read for the hundredth time my one
+letter of letters and as on many previous occasions, convinced myself
+that the returning family must be on the ocean.
+
+But March came with its winds, which swept clean the veranda of the
+snow that persisted in drifting into corners. True, I had a few letters
+from McFarlane; “Only a little while and all would be settled” the
+refrain of each.
+
+“Alix was with the child and Elaine at Sorrento, Italy; both of the
+latter were a little ‘puling’ but nothing to cause alarm;” Hugh, I
+learned, was “dour” and not fit company for “man or beast,” and with
+the work at the mill and the clearing of the ash swamp and contiguous
+woods, time slipped away until near the end of May when I learned from
+the Scot that while Alix and her consort were established at Blankleigh
+Manor, holding possession, the case was still in doubt, put over until
+a new court sitting.
+
+The interesting, the important news was that Elaine and Hugh were
+starting for home in a week.
+
+“Right at this moment she is on the ocean, coming home” and I could do
+nothing that day but sit and think.
+
+Ten days. I had lost pounds in weight, wandered over the entire place
+with my friends, the wise but wicked-looking bloodhounds, talked to the
+old wrinkle-faced Julius Caesar, told him things I knew he would not
+repeat, thoughts that burned my heart and seared my brain.
+
+Those ten days extended over a greater period than did the seven months
+during which I had kept watch and ward over her possessions.
+
+Without warning they came--in the night--I sat alone in the library,
+brooding, had made a pretense of reading, but could not hold interest
+or follow line--when about ten o’clock the door opened and Hugh stepped
+through, stopping short just inside.
+
+“Well, Gordon, you are alive,” his greeting.
+
+I sprang forward, impulsively threw my arms around him in a hug that
+seemed to embarrass, saying only, “Hugh!”
+
+He did not return the embrace. I stepped back, looking at the changes
+which a few months had wrought and said, “But you are not alone?”
+
+A little of the old Hugh flashed out as he sadly smiled, “I brought her
+back as I promised, Gordon, but a little worse for wear--both of us.
+She is upstairs with the women.”
+
+I had reached that condition of mind where nothing mattered. I must see
+her. I rushed past Hugh, who stood looking over the room, up the stairs
+and in the upper hall saw her coming toward me.
+
+Stricken dumb, I caught both her hands in mine and stood looking into
+those glorious eyes, but how big and sad they were! She had grown thin
+and pale.
+
+“Why, Gordon, have you been ill? You look like death.”
+
+I whispered her name and she shyly withdrew her hands as Estelle and a
+girl came up to us. Then she said, “Gordon, this is Fong’s successor,
+Jean,” and Jean, a highly colored Scotch lassie of seventeen or
+eighteen, made a curtsey saying to Elaine, “Your bath is ready, please.”
+
+And Estelle, the nurse again, put her arm around Elaine’s waist and
+said, “Mr. Montrose, you will please excuse her, she has had a hard day
+and needs rest.”
+
+Could I do other than say: “Certainly, certainly,” especially as she,
+Elaine, added, “Look after Hugh, Gordon. I wish to have a long talk
+with you in the morning.”
+
+When I returned to the library, Hugh was standing in the middle of
+the room, hands clasped behind his back and I distinctly heard him
+talking. I could no longer doubt that the man was in a dangerous state.
+Physically he was far under average and his display of mental breakdown
+could be deduced from changed attitude, his aloofness and habit of
+talking to himself.
+
+“Are you talking to yourself?” I ventured the question smilingly.
+
+Hugh looked fixedly at me for so long a moment that I thought his
+reply would be unpleasant. Then he said, “Gordon, you have been here
+sufficiently long to appreciate that this house holds guests whom you
+cannot see.”
+
+Purposely I evaded understanding of his meaning. “I thought that from
+the first day of my visit Hugh. Men appeared from nowhere even that
+first night.”
+
+“You understand my meaning,” Hugh coldly replied.
+
+“You know that my father made this house his home, divided his
+attentions between my sister and myself. I am never alone. I can hear
+through my brain what he says, just as he hears and answers me,” and he
+walked over to the panel in the wall; it slid back and as he stepped
+into the dark stairway he added. “Can you join me at seven thirty?
+I wish to go up to the mill and see what progress we have made in
+clearing.”
+
+Nothing for me to do on this eventful night of _her_ return but prepare
+for a new day of hard riding. I surmised that Hugh’s nerves would
+keep him moving. I was past the point where my friend’s peculiarities
+interested me as a speculation. They had become a source of fear.
+
+At seven thirty I had breakfasted and was out on the veranda ready for
+Hugh. He was astride his horse which was showing evidence of too much
+stabling. As I went down to where another mount was quietly cropping
+grass, Hugh jerking his horse almost to her haunches petulantly blurted
+out, “Why didn’t you have this beast exercised while I was away? She is
+overfed.”
+
+“Rode her every day,” I replied quietly.
+
+“Then you must have walked her,” and he gave the beast a smart blow
+with his riding crop and was off up the river road at such a pace that
+I could join him only after he had reached the mill and dismounted.
+
+We lunched at Smith’s cabin, rode the limits of the plantation, down as
+far as the ash swamp, considerable of which had been cut over. Only a
+few words of approval of my stewardship during a long busy eight months
+were spoken, though every change was noted and explained.
+
+We halted at the edge of the soft ground in the swamp. Hugh turned,
+saying, “You are all in, old man. Go on home. I shall see what the
+spring freshet has done to the creek.”
+
+“Better come with me, you are not perfectly fresh yourself,” I argued,
+but he turned and rode back over our tracks, seeking, as I sensed the
+higher ground penetrating the swamp.
+
+This was the most exhausting day’s work I had ever known. It was dark
+when I handed over my tired horse to the stableman. The hounds clamored
+for freedom as I neared the kennels. I opened the gate. They fawned on
+me as once they did on Hugh.
+
+The day had been oppressively hot and evening brought no relief. A
+storm was brewing.
+
+A cold spring-water bath and dinner clothes had a tonic effect and I
+went buoyantly downstairs, anticipating.
+
+Elaine and Estelle were there and the first greeting was “Where is
+Hughie?”
+
+I explained.
+
+“Then we shall not wait dinner,” Elaine said. “Hughie spent most of
+his days and nights riding about the country in England. I suppose
+he will do the same here,” adding, “I am very much alarmed over his
+restlessness.”
+
+She was but the shadow of the girl who had kissed me goodbye in
+November. Spirituelle, but bewitchingly beautiful. Thinness of face
+accentuated the largeness of her eyes. They represented more than the
+windows--the soul itself seemed to come out through them.
+
+I committed the error of asking Estelle if her husband would not join
+us. Her well-bred reply was, “No, Miss Craighead needs all my attention
+tonight,” and I then appreciated that the European trip had indeed
+worked sad havoc with the health of this frail girl.
+
+As thunder muttered in the distance, the sister expressed great concern
+about Hugh. She looked through the windows at the flashes of heat
+lightning, sighed and said, “He likes storms, though. They soothe him,
+he says, but I am fearful that he may be struck by lightning.”
+
+“Only electricity burning up super-heated air,” I replied as though I
+knew all about nature’s forces.
+
+When rain came down briskly, Estelle asked me to see if my windows were
+closed. Of course they were in this house of mysterious serving men,
+but “I would see.”
+
+She followed me upstairs, stopped me in the hall and said almost in a
+whisper.
+
+“Do not do anything to excite her tonight. She has been hysterical all
+day. I gave you the pleasure of her company at dinner just to help her
+regain composure. Fred has gone for the doctor.”
+
+“Good lord, Estelle, is it as bad as that?”
+
+“Yes,” she replied, “almost nervous prostration, only her spirit keeps
+her up. Gracious! even you, Mr. Montrose, look all used up and you have
+had only one day of that moonstruck brother of hers. What would you
+have been after eight months of it?” and she flew back downstairs.
+
+I looked into my room, an unnecessary precaution, hastened downstairs,
+but Elaine and the nurse were coming up.
+
+Flashes followed by thunder and the downpour of rain beating on the
+upper veranda were disquieting. Elaine resting on a divan in the upper
+hall from the exertion of climbing the stairs, chided me jokingly on
+my failure to keep our morning appointment. I was sorely tempted as
+Estelle had left us alone a moment together.
+
+The orchard door opened suddenly bringing in a sheet of rain and
+the white-haired overseer slammed shut the door and stood with water
+running from his clothing onto the rug.
+
+There was a wild look in his eyes as he directed them first to me, then
+to Elaine, then back to me where they rested for a second, before he
+said, “Mr. Montrose, I wish to see you a minute.”
+
+Elaine jumped up, crying, “Hugh! Has anything happened to Hugh?”
+
+“Not a thing, Miss, I want to talk privately with Mr. Montrose.”
+
+Estelle who just then returned, said to Elaine, “It must be something
+about storm damage; they don’t wish to worry you.” They left us.
+
+“For God’s sake, man,” I ejaculated, looking at the wild eyes of
+Stanton who said, “Hugh’s horse has come in, mud to the mane and I
+don’t know what to make of it.”
+
+“When?” I inanely exclaimed.
+
+“Just now, and the dogs are out. We cannot have them trace him.”
+
+My heart sank. The brutes always returned to their quarters for dinner.
+I turned cold, but appreciated the necessity for action.
+
+“A minute,” I said. “I know where to find him. Get a couple of men and
+I will join you at the corner of the barn.”
+
+“Man,” Stanton said, “It’s raining pitchforks.”
+
+“That’s all right,” I replied more bravely than my condition of mind
+warranted and fetched a raincoat from my room and was out in the night
+without being intercepted, as I feared.
+
+Nobody met me at the appointed place. The wind was high so I stepped
+into the shelter afforded by an angle of the barn. Just then there
+slunk by me in the darkness a procession of shadowy forms. The dogs
+were returning to their kennel.
+
+I was all impatience when four men with five horses came from the
+yard. I had difficulty in mounting; finally succeeded through one of
+the men’s putting his horse alongside mine to keep him from running
+sidewise.
+
+I led the party through the rain down to the point to which I surmised
+Hugh was making when we parted. We spread out and urged our reluctant
+beasts in the teeth of the storm into the soft swamp. There was no
+trail. Stanton and I came together where there was a narrow peninsula
+of reasonably firm ground. He called through the deafening roar of the
+wind in the trees and the beating of the torrents of rain.
+
+“If we had the dogs now we could trace him.” I made no reply.
+
+We carefully picked our way further into the swamp, both appreciating
+that at any moment our horses might disappear in the almost fathomless
+black quagmire.
+
+A wild halloo in front stopped us in our tracks. One of our men,
+afoot, came staggering out of the dark.
+
+“I’ve found him. He’s dead; all torn to pieces. The dogs, damn them,
+they did it.”
+
+We threw ourselves from the horses and followed the man to where in the
+darkness we heard running water. In a minute we crossed a narrow ridge,
+water on both sides and I recognized Hugh’s boyhood retreat which I had
+more than once visited.
+
+Hugh was lying on his back just inside the shelter. In the glare of a
+match I saw his white face. The head was turned toward his shoulder as
+though in an effort to close a gash in the right side of his neck from
+which blood still flowed. I could see only this: his eyes were closed.
+The man who found him was bending close and holding the small lights.
+
+“He is alive or the blood would not spurt like this,” he exclaimed.
+“What shall we do?”
+
+“Get your horse; take mine, and ride like hell to the woods road. The
+doctor is on his way to the Hall. If you don’t meet him, go to the
+house. If he has not arrived, ride toward the village and bring him
+here.”
+
+“Better stop up the wound with something or the doctor will not be
+needed,” he said as he hurried out into the pelting storm.
+
+Light was furnished from a burning splinter. Making a pad of a folded
+handkerchief, I tore a strip of linen from my shirt and bound the neck
+as tightly as I dared. All in a daze, breath coming with difficulty, I
+worked as quickly and effectually as I could.
+
+To wait was agony. I straightened one of his legs which was flexed and
+then noticed that the cloth of his trousers was caked with mud and my
+hands after the service were incrimsoned. Other wounds--I searched for
+them, binding up such as were bleeding.
+
+The dogs had worked sad havoc with their master. Occupation brought
+relief from the terrible tension.
+
+Hugh’s riding crop was picked up by one of the two searchers who had
+just come in. It showed evidences of a dog’s anger. I visualized the
+scene; wondered which had first sought shelter here, Hugh or the
+hounds. Probably the hounds. Hugh would, in his latterly acquired
+dislike for the animals, attempt to drive them out, probably struck
+with his riding whip and they attacked. My surmise was not far from
+being correct.
+
+Stanton busied himself in the making of a stretcher of two poles
+from the framework of the little habitation, testing their soundness
+carefully. Stirrup leathers were brought and fastened between the
+poles to form a cradle. Four coats were then similarly used. Then we
+waited in silence, watching the still form in lightning flash and the
+flickering torchlight, while the wind and rain augmented by the noise
+of the rushing waters of the swollen creek and the crashing thunder
+created a fearful pandemonium; lightning frequently illuminating the
+horror of the situation, drops of water pelted from the frail roof,
+little streamlets ran down the side walls. My rubber coat protected
+Hugh in a measure, but the leafy flooring beneath him was sadly wet.
+
+The wait was terrible; finally I gave the order, “Let us carry him
+home.”
+
+I held his head in position while the men gently laid him in his
+stretcher. He moaned once as we four traversed the narrow trail.
+
+Little did the boy dream as he brought his beloved books to this spot
+and cleared a path, that in the full day of manhood it would serve as
+a guide for the bearers of his body on a night when men’s forms six
+feet distant were undiscernible except when nature’s fearful forces
+furnished a light.
+
+Hugh’s face was covered; bended branches from his beloved beech tree
+held up the coat, giving him air to breathe.
+
+Once as we neared the main road after nearly a mile of laborious
+searching out of our way through the forest and newly cleared land,
+Hugh spoke. The voice was unnatural, husky and weak.
+
+I was on his right side, near his head and thought he spoke his
+sister’s name, but what I heard distinctly was “Hell hounds” and words
+that trailed off into nothingness. Consecutive thought would not come
+to me. The phrase “This will kill Elaine” had since my first excitement
+driven everything else from my mind.
+
+A group of men met us just after the main road was reached. They were
+all excited and crowded around us urging their services, but our burden
+was light. Not until afterwards did I think of what eight months had
+done to my friend--it required little effort to carry the light form.
+
+I gave my place to the silent Williams when we reached the east veranda
+stairway whither I directed the awed carriers after dismissing the
+other men, thinking to get Hugh to his room without carrying him
+through the house and apprising his sister of the disaster before the
+doctor came.
+
+I tiptoed up the stairs, entered Hugh’s room and spread the French
+windows wide, then pulled a divan out into the open where the stretcher
+was rested. Four of us were coatless and drenched to the skin.
+
+Up to this moment I had not felt the full force of the tragedy. My
+feelings were beyond anything my pen can describe. We stood in our
+sodden garments looking at each other. What should be the next move?
+
+Williams disappeared into the hallway. The raincoat was stripped off,
+the beech branches thrown on the floor. I examined the bandage on
+Hugh’s neck and found it saturated.
+
+Estelle, followed by Williams, came in hurriedly. Strange how trivial
+things impress; in place of the usual nurse’s white, Estelle had on a
+loose wrapper and her feet were bare.
+
+She looked at Hugh, caught a breath, then said to the bearers, “You may
+go; Mr. Montrose and Stanton stay.”
+
+The two men disappeared through the windows into the rain.
+
+“Now get these clothes off,” to us. A quick movement to Hugh’s dresser
+and she was forcing brandy into his mouth. He coughed and I could see a
+trickle of red down his breast which I had bared.
+
+“Cut off what you cannot unfasten,” the nurse ordered and presently we
+had him between the sheets of linen and she was uncovering the neck
+wound while ordering Stanton to get bandages from her room.
+
+The doctor came in through the window, piloted by a man who had waited
+in the storm to intercept him, and the messenger. Our man had found him
+under the open shed for vehicles at the little white church where he
+had taken shelter. The faithful fellow had ridden to the stables where
+he learned of the doctor’s non-appearance, then out the road through
+the woods intending to go on until the doctor was found.
+
+There was nothing I could do but stand by and watch the physician and
+nurse work over the still form. I went over and stood looking at the
+play of electricity on the tall poplars.
+
+Just as Estelle said, “There, that is the last stitch,” there was a
+deafening crash simultaneous with a blinding flash of lightning. A bolt
+seemed to stab the earth with a viciousness indescribable and the smell
+of sulphur filled the room. I was thrown back and off my balance.
+
+“Gad!” the doctor exclaimed, “we are struck. Go out, Montrose, and
+look about. This tinderbox must not burn tonight,” and he looked
+significantly at Hugh’s still form.
+
+Estelle who had been on her knees by the bedside sprang to her feet
+with, “Doctor! Doctor! Your other patient; she’ll be wild; come on,”
+and hastened from the room before my shocked senses operated to move me
+from where I stood.
+
+“Is he dead?” was my breathless query as the medic quietly removed from
+the bed to the dresser a number of shining implements.
+
+“Morphine,” was the laconic reply, “and the sister must sleep this
+night--but get out, man, you can’t get any wetter.”
+
+Outside as I circled the house from the east stairway, the storm seemed
+to have augmented in force while the darkness was so intense that I
+stepped right into the arms of another watcher coming through the
+orchard.
+
+“Struck a tree just back of the house,” he yelled through the roar of
+the storm. “Buildings all right,” and I re-entered the house through
+the orchard door and quietly went to my room.
+
+There I found Estelle’s husband.
+
+“Orders,” he said. “You are to take a hot bath, then drink this,”
+indicating a long glass of slightly ambered liquid. “Then go to bed.
+Doc Parsons says Mr. Hugh will sleep until morning.”
+
+“How about Miss Elaine?” I queried.
+
+“Asleep. She knows nothing about the accident.”
+
+Was it fatigue? The day and night had certainly wearied me, but my
+nerves were so tense that no bodily condition would have robbed me of
+wakefulness. I slept within a minute after drinking the generous potion
+prepared by Estelle--or was it the doctor--he was a great believer in
+the efficacy of the poppy in emergencies.
+
+The sun shining through parted curtains was drawing an elongated
+triangle on the polished floor of my room when I opened my eyes. It was
+late and I cursed myself while hastily dressing as thoughts of Elaine
+and Hugh and all the terrors of yesternight rushed upon me.
+
+My first action was to rush to Hugh’s room. Estelle, sitting near the
+bed, placed her finger on lips as I cautiously opened the door and
+intruded my head.
+
+Then she silently, by motion of those lips, said, “Sleeping; Elaine
+also,” and I withdrew to search for the doctor. He also was sleeping.
+
+All nature appeared to voice its thanks to the God of the universe
+for the cleansing of the atmosphere. There was a delightful odor of
+fresh earth mingled with the perfume of blossoms filling the air. The
+overseer and a couple of men were busy with pick and shovel removing
+the last traces of what was yesterday a splendid apple tree. A few
+small branches many yards away attested the violence of the shock which
+had worked the destruction.
+
+As I stood near them, one of the men said, “Ah, here is what attracted
+the lightning,” and he reached down and endeavored to pull up a pipe
+protruding from the cavity where the tree had stood.
+
+“Seems to go deep,” he grunted while exerting all his strength.
+
+“That must be a vent to one of the vaults--it is hollow,” the foreman
+remarked, and while I stood by--I felt a little dazed yet--they filled
+in and sodded the spot that nothing should mar the velvety smoothness
+of a portion of the estate to which a practical gardener and our
+Chinaman were devoted. I saw that a small opening atop the vent pipe
+was left, but the spot was scarcely noticeable.
+
+“Better,” a word common on the lips of doctor and nurse, though too
+often meaningless, as I knew, nevertheless it braced me on each
+occasion when I made inquiry as to the condition of the patients.
+
+Work must go on. Forty men must not become idle for lack of guidance
+and I was relieved when the foreman asked me to ride to the mill and to
+the logging operations. I took up my duties of the days when I managed
+the place just as naturally as though they had not been interrupted
+through Hugh’s return.
+
+The third day Hugh had a “slight fever,” and “Elaine was with him”
+relayed, was all I could learn. Thank heaven, I did not witness the
+meeting between brother and sister--it would have been too much.
+
+Trouble multiplied. McFarlane, knowing Hugh’s condition, by letter
+poured out to me his despair of winning for him his English estate.
+The court could not disregard the operation of natural law and the
+registering of birth in connection with the record of John Blankleigh’s
+incarceration following the shooting of Craighead negated the claim
+that Hugh was Blankleigh’s son.
+
+“The estate would go to the other claimant, Hogarth, who had submitted
+irrefutable proof of being the next of kin,” was Mac’s wail, but my
+worry was over the other question, legitimacy, and the present effect
+on my sick friend.
+
+Should the doctor be taken into our confidence? I determined to lay the
+whole matter before Parsons--or should I go to the priest?
+
+The doctor was calling to me, “Come up. I wish to have a word with you.”
+
+Hugh was losing his fight, did not seem to care to win, Parsons said.
+
+Then I bared the whole story. Elaine’s strange malady; the change in
+Hugh, commencing on the night when he overheard us discussing the
+family history; the spectral horseman to whom Hugh talked and the
+change in the behavior of the bloodhounds.
+
+“They evidently could see what only a few of us can,” I concluded
+lamely at least to the practical doctor’s thinking, for from a quiet,
+anxious listener, he suddenly blazed forth, “Idiot! A parcel of damned
+idiots. Why didn’t you tell me all this before? Why man, I have doubted
+my own sanity; questioned my ability as a physician; tried my damnedest
+to get to the root of things; and here I have been working to cure the
+body when the mind is deranged.
+
+“I am not one of those fool doctors who believe that the machine is
+everything. The operator is of vastly more importance. Why in--well,
+now I understand his delirium; why he sees things and talks to thin
+air. Spiritualism, rank nonsense; imagines his father is with him--”
+and abruptly Parsons left me, walked to the west end of the veranda
+with head bowed and hands clasped behind his back.
+
+Returning, he stopped and quietly said, “Do you know, Montrose, our
+think-works, the useful ones, are in the front; the sleep-works in
+the back of our heads. I saw you looking at the ceiling just now, so
+conclude you have no suggestions.”
+
+“Wrong, doctor,” I replied, accustomed to Parsons’ brusqueness; “why
+not get a surgeon from Toronto or Montreal; they have a broader
+practise than you; may know some kind of a cure for your patient’s
+hallucinations.”
+
+“All crazy here, from the Chinaman up. Come back about eleven,” and he
+went back to Hugh’s room.
+
+From eleven to twelve o’clock, I walked the upper veranda impatiently,
+cursing that habit of all the medical men of my acquaintance--they
+never once had kept an appointment or considered the other fellow’s
+feelings. Then Parsons stuck his head out of the opened window.
+
+“No time now, Montrose, am in consultation with a specialist; talk to
+you later.” My suggestion had evidently been forestalled.
+
+When, after an invitation from Parsons to join the medical men at
+dinner, I walked into the library where a table was prepared near
+the open windows, I was presented to Doctor Milne of Toronto, a man
+about forty, shrewd-looking, with keen, colorless eyes and I noted
+particularly, the longest, most slender fingers I had ever seen on a
+human hand.
+
+Parsons noted my hesitancy in taking the proffered hand of Dr. Milne
+and broke the ice in his characteristic way with, “Lucky, young man, if
+you never have to feel those fingers in anything more sensitive than
+your palm” and the specialist smilingly commented: “Very convenient,
+Mr. Montrose, yes, very convenient in delicate explorations,” holding
+up his hands; “permit an unusually small incision, unusually small,”
+and his satisfied air proclaimed to me evident pleasure in his art.
+
+Peculiar, the reasoning of most doctors. I put my questions regarding
+Hugh directly to Milne. He shifted the responsibility of reply to
+Parsons, who with apparent amusement watched the blood mantling my
+face. I was in no mental state to calmly listen to a play on words,
+however erudite, or weigh foolish professional ethics.
+
+Then Parsons said, “Montrose, don’t you know better than to question
+a consultant? It isn’t done. Hugh’s wounds are not necessarily
+fatal--infection, a little fever, nothing alarming, but the doubly
+accursed dogs bit into his voice. That’s layman’s talk, Montrose,
+the throat lesion is deep and the man may never again speak above a
+whisper; but that’s all he seems to need, a whisper in this house
+where even the living men are silent. The dead don’t need a trumpet.”
+
+Parsons leaned far back and laughed harshly, a most bitter,
+understandable laugh of commingled sorrow for patient and disgust for
+himself, his skill which could not restore.
+
+Anger seemed to fill his eyes as he tipped forward as though to
+emphasize his statement. “That’s not the worst of it. He’s crazy. When
+not confidentially whispering to some imaginary person, I know he is
+thinking talk. Usually insanity has little effect on the health, but
+this thing spiritism is different, he is wasting away.”
+
+Doctor Milne interposed, “Loss of appetite; affects the pneumogastric
+nerve, checks digestion.”
+
+“We are agreed that an operation may at least partially restore Hugh’s
+voice,” Parsons said, “but nothing will save him if he will not eat.”
+
+Then the consulting doctor disregarded me wholly and addressing Parsons
+said, “Perhaps, doctor, you have not had occasion to study that
+peculiar aberration called spiritism. I regret to say that the malady
+is becoming quite common, especially among the more serious thinkers.
+Quite a smattering are scientific men. We have found it convenient to
+attach to our hospital staff a specialist in psycho-physics; may I
+suggest Mr. Craighead’s removal to Toronto? He may possibly have both
+voice and reason benefited.”
+
+“Can’t be moved, in my judgment,” from Parsons.
+
+“Useless to discuss this further then,” said Milne. “Our Dr. Antoine
+takes his own time in bringing about cures--has clinics or classes. The
+method is peculiar. I have listened with interest on many occasions.
+He seems to adopt homeopathic methods, cures like with like, for he
+certainly teaches spiritism, is an avowed spiritualist.
+
+“I have heard him say that a thousand years hence when people become
+weaned from what he terms a silly emotional philosophy preached from
+our pulpits and learn that God is within each of them and was never
+seen in a burning bush or perched on far-away Mount Sinai, all will
+know that the dead live and are as real as those in the flesh.
+
+“He holds that lack of knowledge of spiritism in those endowed with
+a peculiar brain or subconscious attunement affording ability to
+communicate with spirits, causes many so-called mediums to sicken and
+die. The fault lies in the ignorance of the living who know nothing
+of natural laws; such laws are not taught our children because such
+teachings would controvert common understanding of so-called ‘Bible
+truths.’
+
+“He believes that ignorant submission of will-power among beginners
+through curiosity, amazement, interest in the unusual or for gain, yes,
+submission of the will of the living to the will of the spirit with
+whom the medium is in touch will cause the being within the living
+to become silent, the actual spirit to be dispossessed, driven out,
+the other to take possession but the house cannot accommodate the new
+tenant. It decays.
+
+“The life term of most mediums seldom exceeds seven years of active
+work, I have noticed. A strange world, this,” and turning to me, “Mr.
+ah--Montrose, I presume all of this is Greek to your practical mind.”
+
+“Not quite, doctor,” I replied, “and I think well of your suggestion;
+we must bring Dr. Antoine here, no matter what the cost.”
+
+“Impossible. He is peculiar, money seems to mean nothing to him; he
+treats many without charge, makes no distinction between those who
+pay and the charity patients; seems to be a part of his peculiar
+philosophy--or shall we call it religion?”
+
+“A pretty blamed dangerous philosophy, I should say,” from Parsons,
+“but any old religion that makes man feel a responsibility for his
+fellow man’s weal has my approval. I’ve watched many pass away but have
+yet to see any spooks hovering about and unless the lad upstairs gets
+help which I can’t give him--and right soon--he is a goner.”
+
+Before we left the library it was agreed that Hugh should be taken to
+Dr. Milne’s hospital as promptly as possible.
+
+The following morning Parsons, leaning over my bed, awoke me with, “No
+wonder your wits are dull; you sleep as though it were a business; now,
+boy, up and get both brother and sister into the care of this mind
+carpenter of Milne’s--can’t do either of them any great harm.”
+
+Two days later, after seeing Elaine, Hugh, Estelle, the maid and Dr.
+Parsons aboard a private car at Brenton, as I leisurely paddled my
+canoe through the twilight toward the Craighead Pier light, I thought
+of the vagaries of fate which had brought me to this place, a stranger,
+interested only in finding a client. Instead I had found a vocation,
+taken on a great responsibility--and lost myself to a woman beyond my
+reach.
+
+I had resigned my junior partnership in my law firm and now, with
+Hugh’s changed attitude toward me, I must give up this work.
+
+The Hall, with its silent “guests”--master, mistress, nurse, all gone,
+so depressed me that I welcomed work.
+
+What a blessing is work, even hard manual labor, a necessity on the
+farm. But for the urgency of necessary work on my part I should have
+become a fit subject for Dr. Antoine’s ministration.
+
+The rivermen, the boom-stringers had moved down the river, giving place
+later to gangs of drivers who swept millions of logs before a great
+sweep stretching from shore to shore, when wind and current were right.
+The boom was formed of long logs chained end to end with a staunch raft
+on either extremity, drawn forward through the turning of a capstan
+which slowly drew the sweep toward anchors carried out by boats. The
+turning of the capstan by four to six men reminded me of John Blank’s
+treadmill in Tasmania, but invariably these men sang as they worked.
+
+A short note from Dr. Parsons, who had returned to Valleyford, took
+me hot-foot to the village, where I learned that he was again back in
+Toronto--a great disappointment.
+
+In confidence from the secretary, Hunt: “Hugh has deeded to Elaine the
+entire Canadian estate accompanying the gift with an immense endowment
+in funds.”
+
+My last hope was shattered. Surely I felt impoverished, mentally and
+otherwise--what except devotion had I to offer?
+
+Parsons surprised me one hot day in July. He said he wanted a good
+day’s fishing, well knowing that a drive of logs had just passed and
+that catching fish was out of the question.
+
+I learned that both patients were “on the mend” as the doctor put
+it. “Hugh’s operation was successful but it had not had time to show
+results. He was still morose.”
+
+“Pretty lucky for Craighead, picking you out of a law office before
+you got into some penitentiary. Saved him time and money;” and
+“clodhopping, farming, rather than law was evidently my forte; he had
+heard that I had just lost a case before the Governor-General” were
+some of his good-natured jibes before I could elicit any details of the
+case obsessing my mind.
+
+Just before sundown as we were returning to the Hall after a fruitless
+four hours of fishing, Parsons reached into his pocket saying, “Here is
+a note from the young lady which I forgot to deliver.”
+
+When I snatched the envelope from his hands with an oath, the doctor
+laughed and said, “Good! I’m glad to see you have some spirit left.
+Thought this madhouse had got you.”
+
+“Dear faithful Gordon: The doctor has told you all about Hugh,
+all about me. We are promised return leave about September first.
+Faithfully, Elaine.”
+
+It was not much, but it raised my spirits.
+
+To insure the doctor’s staying that night, I had Stanton hide his horse
+and the poor vicarious liar told Parsons with a solemn face that it had
+strayed from the pasture.
+
+I learned that though Hugh’s voice was not fully restored by the
+operation, there was prospect of its becoming stronger. The young lady,
+living in the quiet sanitarium of Dr. Antoine, was in cheerful spirit
+and “getting back her roses.”
+
+“What of Hugh’s mental poise?” I queried.
+
+Parsons pondered a long minute. “Antoine is a peculiar fellow; he
+didn’t pooh-pooh Hugh’s dementia at all. Even with the staff of
+operating surgeons present he told Hugh he knew there were many living
+spirits of the dead all about us, in our homes, that the hospital was
+crowded with them. ‘Helping,’ he said.
+
+“Now, Montrose, just imagine spooks helping Milne when he uses those
+long fingers in an operation that means life or death according to
+his skill in avoiding a membrane by the vigintillienth of an inch,
+yet the fellow had an explanation, explained just as though it were
+true that ‘through electrobiologic batteries charged from the persons
+present’--whether alive or dead I don’t know,” Parsons interpolated,
+“‘the spirit within the surgeon was given an ascendancy making the
+physical for a time merely the agent of the subconscious man.’
+
+“Briefly,” Parsons added, “the operation was not performed by Milne
+alone; he was aided by the dead surgeons present,” and he laughed, then
+resumed in a more serious vein, “The strange thing about it, Montrose,
+is that Milne is different when operating with Antoine present. I have
+watched him when Antoine looked into the patient’s eyes before the
+operation as he did into Hugh’s, heard him say to the psychoanalyst,
+‘Well!’ and the answer, ‘He has or has not the will to live,’ and in
+each case the operation was successful or the reverse according to
+Antoine’s reply.
+
+“One day I asked Antoine why spirits make a rendezvous of the hospital.
+He replied seriously, ‘Every worthwhile disembodied spirit has his work
+and you doctors keep busy an army of them caring for souls released
+through your bad guessing and reckless cutting.’
+
+“I quit him then, but both Elaine and Hugh like him. Hugh has quit
+whispering to himself.”
+
+That night before retiring, I read and re-read _her_ brief note.
+
+Reveries merged into dreams of mingled ecstacy and despondency.
+Chemical activity fading, came rapture. The subjective in command, the
+soul spoke. Then struggling came the conscious, the spoiler, and the
+vision despair.
+
+Parsons said to me next morning, “Boy! You look as though you had been
+drawn through a knot-hole.”
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+September, season of fulfillment, that seventh month of the old Roman
+calendar now held for me a wonderful significance. Here was August with
+its dusky brush spreading over field and forest a sizing of brown,
+nature’s preparation for the coating of white to be laid on only a
+couple of months later in this northern clime. Harvesting was well
+along and I had time to build on the outer end of the pier a small
+artistic summer house. There I rested evenings in the pleasantness of
+the usually-present river-cooled breezes and dreamed.
+
+News from England was disquieting. Hugh’s entailed patrimony would pass
+from the hands of the rightful heir in September and my friend would
+bear, to his death, a detested stain. Could, or rather, would he live
+his life with this mark upon him?
+
+The first of September found me in Toronto before a black-gowned judge
+pleading and not in vain, for the parole of an unfortunate. Tardy
+cutting of legal tape made my sojourn in that city so uncertain that
+there was no conveyance awaiting me at Laketon when three days later I
+arrived there; thus I resumed acquaintanceship with my driver of a year
+ago--a year, but seemingly a decade.
+
+He welcomed me to a seat on the coach beside him after stowing away the
+mail bag for Valleyford: became the questioner, reversing our previous
+roles.
+
+“What has become of Craighead?”
+
+“In Toronto recovering from an operation,” I replied and he looked the
+suspicion which he a few minutes later voiced, “Some say that he has
+been done away with and that you have taken his place; guess I need not
+have been anxious about you,” and he shifted his position further to
+the left.
+
+When we had swung across the bridge into the village, although I had
+endeavored to enlighten my friend as to the work at Craighead Hall, I
+felt doubt as to whether or not I was cleared as a murder suspect. At
+best, I remained to him a usurper.
+
+My horse, Hugh’s, was at the hotel stables. As I passed the little red
+school house and approached the white church, my mind was engrossed
+with thoughts of the events of my year’s work in this, at first, land
+of enchantment, turned place of sorrows, and through no fault of mine.
+
+Evening shadows were falling as I passed the church and cast my eyes
+over to the far corner of the little cemetery.
+
+Was I taking on Hugh’s affliction? There he was--leaning on the paling
+surrounding John Blank’s grave, just as when I first set eyes on him!
+
+I reined up my mount so violently that even before the beast could be
+quieted Hugh had walked over to the road fence, was leaning on it as
+though tired, and when I came alongside, extended his hand, listlessly
+and said something in greeting which I could not catch.
+
+At my effusive “God bless you old man, I’m glad to see you again,” he
+merely smiled a sad, wan smile.
+
+“The spirit seems to have left the man,” was my thought as we rode side
+by side, he on Elaine’s horse which had been tied in the church-shed.
+He would not trust himself on his own mount which I had proffered.
+
+It was not the Hugh of last September, neither was it the crazed man as
+he had returned from England. This cross rested heavily on his weakened
+shoulders. I would gladly have helped bear it with him.
+
+His voice was a whisper as he talked and though I learned that
+the whole party had returned two days previously, I hesitated at
+questioning, not wishing to put upon him the effort necessary in making
+reply.
+
+I could discern, even though his riding stock was high, a livid scar
+made by the teeth of his dogs, extended by the surgeons.
+
+Our ride into the plantation was almost as silent as was our first walk
+over the same road. Leaves were falling; the sadness of autumn crept
+into my blood and it was an unhappy Montrose who walked with his host
+into the upper hall. Even the thought of again seeing _her_ failed in
+dispelling a monstrous depression.
+
+She stood near the hearth in the library, one arm about Hugh, to
+whom she was talking in a low tone when, after preparation in the
+matter of dinner clothes, I went down to dine. I had never seen her
+so bewilderingly beautiful. The months in care of the mind-healer had
+certainly worked wonders and, as I took both her extended hands in
+mine, reason seemed in the balance. I had difficulty in preventing
+myself from drawing her into just one embrace, come what might.
+
+Solicitude for Hugh held her close to him and it was not until the
+following afternoon that opportunity came.
+
+She proposed that we should pick the apples from her tree; even then
+Hugh made a third party. The telling to Hugh of events intimate to last
+year’s picking brought from him a smile but he was silent and when we
+had gathered the meager crop afforded in what the gardener termed an
+off-year for fruit, and Elaine and I had each taken up two baskets,
+the total yield, and started for the vaults, he left us.
+
+Sliding back the great oak door at the north end of the east wall of
+the house we were in a corridor lighted only from the open doorway.
+On the left was solid masonry; on the right, hewn rock with doors of
+limestone showing at intervals of about twelve feet heavy wrought iron
+hinges; overhead a vaulted ceiling of stone.
+
+A number was painted on each door.
+
+“Here is my storeroom,” Elaine said, in a strained voice, holding out a
+huge key.
+
+Neither of us had spoken after we entered the vault’s corridor. I shall
+not attempt to explain the reason for her silence. I simply could not
+speak, so intense were my emotions.
+
+The key fell to the stone floor. I started toward her, whispering her
+name. She put both hands over her eyes as I stopped, then turned and
+fled down the corridor.
+
+“Fool! Fool! How I have presumed--now I must quietly slip away from
+this house and try to forget. She will never forgive what she must have
+correctly interpreted as an act beyond the bounds of good breeding,”
+was my thought.
+
+The ignominy of it; could she not trust herself alone with me, her
+brother’s friend? In my estimation, I fell far below the status of the
+most unpromising of the Hall’s “guests.”
+
+Listlessly I pulled back the vault door, deposited the baskets on the
+floor and, utterly exhausted from surcharge of feeling, leaned back
+against the door of the inner vault. My next sensation was that of a
+man struck by a falling tree.
+
+I had been pitched forward and was lying on my face, my feet pinned
+beneath some heavy weight. A musty odor came into the vault. The upper
+half of the stone door had fallen outward and only the baskets of
+apples had saved me from a terrible crushing.
+
+With difficulty I extricated myself; my first thought the apples,
+ruined irretrievably and through my carelessness. I think I endeavored
+to remove the stone, but desisted when I heard voices. No, there was
+nothing of the supernatural about one voice. The sound came from the
+inner vault.
+
+Could I mistake Dr. Parsons’ cheery tones? They came again, then all
+was silent.
+
+I pulled the lower half of the door out onto the other. It fell with a
+startling crash and a cloud of dust. Then I stepped through the portal,
+but the room was dark.
+
+I called “Dr. Parsons!” but there was no response.
+
+I struck a match and the first object that met my eye was a huddled
+form, apparently that of a man near the farther wall. The match
+expired. I turned and ran out into the open air.
+
+Hastily I went to my room via the veranda, secured two lamps and
+hurrying back down the outer stairway was greeted with “Holy virgins!
+Where are we going at four o’clock daylight with our lamps trimmed?”
+from Dr. Parsons, the man of all others whom I wished to see.
+
+“Come on, doctor, there’s a dead man in the vaults,” I exclaimed.
+
+“You look crazy but I’ll go with you,” the doctor replied and added as
+we halted on reaching the open door, to light the lamps, “Hope it’s
+only the Chinaman. Don’t like to think of any of the other fellows
+snooping around--they’re too decent.”
+
+Parsons stepped over the broken door, holding a lamp high. Quite a mass
+of debris was scattered over the floor of the northwest corner of the
+room. Near it was what appeared to be a clothed human form. I could see
+a head with reddish hair, the top of the head, as the chin rested on
+the chest and back of the object was a small brass-bound leather trunk,
+against the well.
+
+From Parsons came, “Lightning must have struck above this place,” as he
+looked at the shattered stone some of which was about the legs of the
+partially recumbent figure.
+
+“Yes, yes, last spring. It struck the air-vent when the tree was
+destroyed.” I excitedly replied and then for the first time realized
+that the voices which I had heard in the vault came through this pipe
+from the orchard above.
+
+“Then this fellow must have been in here since then. Probably killed
+him.”
+
+By this time, Parsons had his hand on the shoulder of the man and was
+saying, “Holy Joseph! This has been here a long time, mummified, cured,
+or I never saw the Catacombs of Rome.”
+
+I stood mute while my friend kept up a continuous flow of fragmentary
+remarks as he went on with his examination.
+
+“Good thing they elected me coroner; looks like murder. No, by all
+that’s holy, here we have it. A clean shot, in the right, out the left
+temple,” and he picked up from the debris a small weapon. “English,
+a bulldog, one chamber empty, a good shot,” and dropping the weapon,
+proceeded to look inside the coat.
+
+“Some sport--employed the best tailor in London ten years ago,” as he
+examined markings on a pocket.
+
+A yellowed parchment crackled as the doctor moved the form. Parsons
+picked it up.
+
+“Now what! Here is a certified copy of the birth-record of Hugh
+Hogarth Blankleigh, London, England; queer, they don’t usually carry
+credentials, these birds--”
+
+I fairly yelled.
+
+“Hogarth, James Hogarth--at last I have found you, too late, but I have
+found you,” and then it dawned on me that the claimant in England must
+be a fraud, a part of a conspiracy, that a cable to McFarlane would
+secure a postponement or if decision had been rendered, a reopening of
+the case.
+
+“Wait a minute, don’t get panicky,” the doctor called as I snatched the
+parchment from his hand and started to run from the room.
+
+I stopped, not because commanded, but because, as the doctor was
+reading the certificate I had caught on the reverse side the name
+“James Hogarth” among a dozen or so lines of writing in soft pencil.
+The name stood out as though embossed.
+
+“Here is something!” I said, trying to decipher the irregular lines.
+
+“Read it, man,” Parsons exclaimed as I stood silent, staring at the
+thing--the last words of a dying man.
+
+Turning closer to the light I read:
+
+“God how I have yelled.
+
+“Air good but so damned thirsty.
+
+“In the dark soon--somebody may hear.”
+
+The “may” was underscored and from the next writing it appeared that he
+had extinguished the light and slept.
+
+“Must be the second day or night--matches, but must save oil. It shakes
+light.
+
+“Craighead has the laugh on James Hogarth, Esq., this time.
+
+“No use yelling; I’m caught. Be a good sport, James, die game, Cousin
+John took his standing, not a peep.
+
+“He got her! God bless her; no man could have told me she was untrue
+and lived--wonder how he died. I am sorry, yes, sorry that the double
+damned door slammed.”
+
+Evidently some time elapsed before the other lines were written as the
+words were hard to decipher.
+
+“Crazy as march hare.
+
+“God! God! God! Must I die--body to the rats, soul to the devil, with
+John and Jim?
+
+“I wronged you, little Ruth, when I lied to your John, forgive--
+
+“Afire--paying--coward--a pill from five-fingered dick--no pain.
+Hurry--light splutters, but I’ll burn it.”
+
+This, as nearly as we could decipher was the last message of the source
+of all the Craighead-Blankleigh tragedy--a disappointed suitor who for
+revenge and gain, for Hogarth was the next male heir to the entailed
+estate, had evidently poisoned Blankleigh’s mind to desperation’s
+breaking point, sending the jealous husband out to commit murder.
+
+As I crouched beside the doctor, the better to get his aid in
+deciphering, he broke the trend of my thought with, “Well, the poor
+cuss, he probably deserved it, but I’m sorry. What brought him snooping
+in here to be caught like the rat he was? What was he going to burn?
+Why the birth certificate of course. That’s what brought him here.”
+
+It had just then struck me also. The record of birth of Hugh in London
+had been doctored--altered--pity I did not remember details of dates
+so frequently repeated by McFarlane--but the certificate was all
+important--it might restore Hugh to himself. That was the important
+thing. What matter the property?
+
+A great burden seemed to have fallen from my shoulders. Gladness came
+to my heart. My long sojourn at this place found an excuse. What had
+up to this moment been demanded of me seemed trivial. Here in the
+finding of Hogarth and this document was accomplishment, my excuse for
+intrusion into the intimate life of these people--the quest was ended.
+
+“Let’s take the certificate to Hugh,” I exclaimed.
+
+“Wait, Montrose, the Scotch crops out in you when money is to be
+found--I must think.”
+
+“Joy never kills; let’s find Hugh,” I said as I started up.
+
+“Parrot stuff,” Parsons ejaculated. “Trouble kills; something must be
+done with this.” Then he added, after a moment’s silence, during which
+he looked at what was once a man’s form. “Go ahead, tell Hugh, wire
+McFarlane. I’ll get Stanton; he’s silent as the grave, and this find
+will be our secret. No use harrying Hugh or Elaine with a sight of
+this; but I’ll take photographs; they may come in handy.”
+
+The parchment was folded and safely in my pocket when I walked into
+Hugh’s room. He was not about the house, so I found Hunt the secretary.
+Together we framed a long message to McFarlane, embodying the entire
+content of the birth certificate and a recital of the circumstances
+of its finding, promising the proofs by mail. A few minutes later the
+secretary was on his way to the village telegraph office.
+
+I dared not delay, even though the certificate meant nothing more than
+proof that the real claimant was here and not before the English court.
+
+I found Hugh through hearing the dogs. They were in a remote corner
+of the orchard near the river’s edge. She was sitting by his side and
+the whole pack of hounds sported about them, joyous, and showing none
+of the sense of fear which evidently brought about the tragedy in the
+swamp.
+
+“Hugh!” I called from a little distance. They were apparently talking
+seriously as they both seemed startled. Elaine gave me one quick,
+frightened glance, then hastened away, the hounds following, while Hugh
+came toward me without a word.
+
+“Important news, Hugh. I have found your birth certificate,” I blurted
+out. My friend’s face paled and his hand shook as he took the yellowed
+parchment and fairly devoured it with his eyes.
+
+“Good God!” he whispered and I put an arm about him.
+
+He staggered as though from a blow. I wondered then if joy does not
+sometimes kill.
+
+“Why, I am six months older than I thought I was” came from his lips
+and then the import of that fact seemed to strike him, for the voice,
+from a whisper broke into an unintelligible something which I cannot
+adequately describe.
+
+“I doubted her--fool--I doubted her,” was understandable, more from the
+expression of his eyes than from the words.
+
+Then he sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands.
+
+I was quietly telling him the whole truth as to how Hogarth had been
+found, reading the last expressed thoughts of that criminal, saying
+that Hunt was well on his way with the message which would secure him
+his father’s property--and name--in England.
+
+His form ceased to heave and presently he arose, placed both hands on
+my shoulders and said, the voice weak, but different.
+
+“Gordon, now I can look you in the face. The strain has been great--I
+have thought of ending it all.” Here he paused, then looking away
+added, “’Twas my little sister--the suicide’s sufferings even in the
+spirit world would have created no barrier. I thought only of her
+sorrow.”
+
+Then his mood changed and as we stood facing the broad river, the
+very soul within him seemed to expand as he told me of his plans, now
+assured for carrying out his great work in the land of his birth, all
+sense of the injustice done his father and mother which filled my
+thoughts, seemed for the moment forgotten.
+
+He was the zealot, the emancipator, the friend of the friendless, and
+his plans carried me along in the scheme.
+
+I should be master of Craighead Hall, filling it with new “guests,”
+strange faces, until the whole countryside should be peopled with
+reborn men and the Parliament forced to take notice and lend its
+approval.
+
+“And I shall return soon and you must come over and see what we have
+done at Blankleigh Manor,” brought me back to a realization of present
+things.
+
+I could not say him nay. I could not tell him then that I had made
+up my mind to go away, that life here was agony; even though I loved
+both the wonderful old plantation and the work--yes, both court and
+managerial work--but I could not live under the strain--here.
+
+Hugh was continuing, “But I must not stand idling. Dr. Parsons is
+opportunely here; he has often expressed a desire to see England again.
+I’ll take him with us and be off soon as we hear from McFarlane. I must
+go to Elaine. You haven’t told her anything?” he called back as he
+hurried toward the house while I aimlessly wandered over to the pier to
+sit in the little summer house to think and brood.
+
+After a time, as the sun sank low over the big hill where I had
+listened to Hugh’s recital of his father’s sad history, a wonderful
+picture spread itself before my senses. I could see this whole country,
+now sparsely settled, teeming with life, useful activity, mills driven
+by the harnessed power of the great river, artisans now rotting in
+prison becoming an indispensable part of a nation’s progress; engineers
+making a waterway from the upper lakes to the St. Lawrence, and power,
+unlimited power--being carried throughout the Province--all through
+my effort. And then my thoughts went back to her and I started up,
+wide-awake, as she, all in white as I had first seen her, stood in the
+open doorway.
+
+Her hands were by her sides, a wistful, pleading look was in her
+soulful, glorious eyes. I stood, irresolute.
+
+“Gordon, I have come to you,” she whispered, and waited.
+
+I could not--no I could not reply.
+
+“Hughie said I should find you here--don’t you want me?” and she held
+out her hands--
+
+As my arms encircled her in a close embrace, there came to us, through
+the quiet evening air, the song of the boom-gatherers returning from
+work.
+
+The Ave Maria, appealing, rising and falling in wonderful cadences to
+the dip-dip of many paddles--it floated to us over the still waters, a
+benison.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
+
+
+  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
+
+  Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
+
+  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
+
+  Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78254 ***
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+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78254 ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h1>SILENT GUESTS</h1>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page"></div>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="titlepage">
+<p><span class="xxlarge">SILENT<br>
+  GUESTS</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="large">By</span><br>
+<span class="xlarge">A. E. Forrest</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlelogo.jpg" alt="publisher's logo"></div>
+
+<p>CHICAGO<br>
+<span class="large">PASCAL COVICI, <i>Publisher</i></span><br>
+MCMXXVII</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1927, BY<br>
+PASCAL COVICI, PUBLISHER, INC.<br>
+<br>
+PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY<br>
+THE CUNEO PRESS, INC.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="hangingindent">
+<p>“<i>What lurks behind the curtain? Wouldst<br>
+thou learn? If thou art wise thou<br>
+wouldst not</i>—”</p>
+</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/a.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="A">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">A</span> MYSTERIOUS thing, the human
+mind. Can it keep a secret indefinitely?
+Here I find myself committing
+to paper things which I
+had determined never to divulge—sacred
+things long hidden; intimate
+privacies having their roots in the soul.</p>
+
+<p>However, these written pages shall never be
+seen by the merely inquisitive eye, but shall be
+safely hidden away and kept as a faithful attestation
+of the genesis of this house—unless fate decrees
+otherwise. I believe in fate—are we not all
+merely its playthings—toys moved hither and yon
+in Nature’s nursery?</p>
+
+<p>Was it fate that called me from my accustomed
+life and routine in a distant American city to that
+little churchyard in a secluded corner of the Canadian
+backwoods, where so trivial a thing as curiosity
+aroused by the peculiarity of an epitaph chiseled
+in a marble headstone marking the grave of
+an unknown led me into a realm of fact more
+unreal than even the wildest of dreams and unfolded
+to me in reality the pages of a weird, transcendental
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>drama? Was it predestined that I should
+leave home and friends and find in this sparsely
+settled spot an interest which inextricably drew the
+very threads of my being into the tangled skein of
+other and tragic lives?</p>
+
+<p>The mission calling me from the office of a firm
+of lawyers in Philadelphia into which I had but
+recently been admitted as junior partner was a forlorn
+search for traces of an Englishman, one James
+Hogarth, who had, while in Canada, mysteriously
+disappeared. The case was important and urgent,
+we were informed by our clients in London, as
+seven years had elapsed since Hogarth, heir to a
+large estate, had been heard from, and the property
+was about to escheat to the British crown.</p>
+
+<p>I was following a seemingly slender clue—the
+statement of a butler once in the employ of the
+Hogarth family that “some six or seven years
+previously he had seen a letter postmarked ‘Valleyford,
+Canada’ in which Hogarth made mention
+of a place called Craighead Hall.”</p>
+
+<p>On this meager thread rested our firm’s hope of
+a large fee and mine of proving my qualification as
+a worthwhile partner.</p>
+
+<p>My third day of travel on this, my first long
+journey, brought me to a village called Laketown,
+reached only by local train. This day is indelibly
+fixed in my memory. It was a bright September
+morning, and marked the last stopping point before
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>reaching my destination.</p>
+
+<p>No premonition of anything untoward troubled
+me as I rested comfortably on the cushions of an
+old-fashioned high-swung stage-coach as it rolled
+quietly along a smooth dirt road away from the
+village. My spirits were high through avid anticipations
+of success and the enjoyment of an unusual
+and well-deserved holiday.</p>
+
+<p>Alone in the coach, a long twenty-mile ride before
+me, I had ample opportunity for reflection.
+What should I find: romance, mystery, perhaps
+danger, for impulsively even before transferring
+my luggage from the depot platform to the stage-coach
+labeled “Laketown-Valleyford,” I had questioned
+the driver of the team of bays:</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know of a place called Craighead
+Hall?”</p>
+
+<p>The man had given me a peculiar inspection.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but nobody of your kind ever goes there.”</p>
+
+<p>Further inquiry brought curiosity but little satisfaction.
+“Never been there.” “No, nobody ever
+went there.” “Place was some ten miles east of the
+village.” “Was said to be a resort for criminals,
+brought there by the owner, Hugh Craighead, who
+lived with them, a sort of overlord.” “No, I have
+never seen him, but I think you run a big chance of
+being murdered,” he speculated after I had informed
+him of my errand.</p>
+
+<p>The driver had never heard of James Hogarth,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>but volunteered that he would not be surprised at
+the disappearance of anyone who visited Craighead
+Hall.</p>
+
+<p>My pulse quickened at the thought of meeting
+this overlord of criminals, but before we reach
+thirty, romanticism holds strong, especially in those
+in whose veins flows Scotch blood, and my name is
+Montrose.</p>
+
+<p>“My partners know my destination,” was my
+thought, and there was nothing to dull the keenness
+of anticipation as we jogged on, straight into
+the wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>The regular thud of hoof on soft dirt became
+monotonous and I welcomed the opportunity of
+taking a seat beside the driver when a stop was
+made that the horses might drink from a small
+fordable stream crossing the roadway. The air was
+clear and bracing and the open country with its
+evidences of a recently gathered bountiful crop of
+wheat, barley and rye, in time gave place to dense
+woods.</p>
+
+<p>We traveled miles through an unbroken forest
+of hardwood; the maples had taken on their best
+scarlet dress and the oak and beech were changing.
+We neared a river; spruce and cedar trees occasionally
+opened to furnish a glimpse of white water
+tossed into spray. A waterfall, it must have been
+of some magnitude, gave notice of its force.</p>
+
+<p>The driver, pointing to an avenue between
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>fronds of green, said “Kneeley’s Falls; the river
+drivers shoot that fall of eighteen feet. Craighead’s
+foreman tried it once—they got what was
+left of him six miles downstream.”</p>
+
+<p>Craighead again. I plied the man with questions,
+but he had no further information to impart.</p>
+
+<p>A wooded hill was on our left; not a human
+habitation had we passed in ten miles; dense thickets
+of green fringed the noisy river on the right.
+Suddenly we dropped without warning into civilization.
+We crossed on a wooden bridge about one
+hundred and fifty feet in length, a stream of water
+so black and swift that it presented the appearance
+of immobility.</p>
+
+<p>“The Ford, fifty feet deep and running like a
+millrace,” the driver volunteered, “but old Sandy
+Todd with his usual Saturday night load of gin
+aboard thought his mare could ford it.”</p>
+
+<p>The usual small town, I reflected; two main
+streets, post office at the bridge end, good brick
+buildings, one sporting four stories, at which I
+alighted. This was the Myrtle Bank Hotel, with a
+piazza a few feet above the board sidewalk.</p>
+
+<p>Though the usual small village crowd was assembled
+to witness the one exciting event of the
+day, the coach’s arrival, I was obliged to carry my
+portmanteau into the office.</p>
+
+<p>The dust of travel removed, a very fair dinner,
+then to the post office. Not the postmaster, hotel
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>proprietor, or livery-stable keeper, nor any of the
+other citizens of whom I made inquiry had ever
+heard of Hogarth or any stranger visiting this
+man’s town. Nor could I hire a vehicle which
+would take me to the Craighead “plantation” as
+it was commonly called.</p>
+
+<p>I was not more fortunate on the following
+morning—“There is a funeral out in the country,
+everything engaged,” was the excuse vouchsafed
+at the public livery office. When I insisted, I was
+informed that roads were bad and Craighead kept
+a pack of vicious hounds that roamed the woods
+out to a high fence a mile from his house and did
+not welcome strangers. No villager had entered
+the place.</p>
+
+<p>In desperation I borrowed a ride on the seat beside
+a farmer whose homing course brought him
+within three miles of Craighead’s enclosure. We
+had traveled about seven miles and had just passed
+a small white-painted church when the taciturn
+farmer, who declined my proffer of money for the
+accommodation in terms equally decisive with those
+used in refusing to discuss the Craighead menage,
+spoke, a little excitement apparent in his voice:</p>
+
+<p>“There is Hugh Craighead now,” pointing to a
+little cemetery adjoining the church on the east.
+“He is at John Blank’s grave as usual.”</p>
+
+<p>In the far corner of this little churchyard fate
+brought me face to face with Hugh Craighead. The
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>man was leaning on a white-painted paling enclosing
+an isolated grave just outside the God’s acre
+dedicated to remembrance. So absorbed in thought
+was he that he did not notice me until I was quite
+near and called him by name.</p>
+
+<p>I looked into the eyes of a man apparently in the
+early thirties; kindly yet piercing eyes, wide set in
+a strong, refined face. Tall, over six feet, symmetrical
+in build, yet showing evidence of a constitution
+none too robust. There was a something about
+his expression difficult of explanation—a sadness
+and yet not exactly that, the face of a soulful man
+with a history. Introducing myself, I stated my
+business and was pleased to hear him say: “Yes, I
+have heard the name Hogarth. James, I think it
+was.”</p>
+
+<p>My hopes of immediate success were shattered
+when he added, after a pause, “That was many
+years ago when I was abroad. The name was mentioned
+in the letter of a superintendent now dead.”</p>
+
+<p>I pushed my inquiry as far as I dared without
+appearing importunate, even suggesting that some
+old servant at his home might remember Hogarth’s
+visit. “There are no old servants at Craighead
+Hall,” he replied in a tone which forbade further
+questioning.</p>
+
+<p>Evidently feeling that his statement was inadequate,
+abrupt, he added, “You do not know of my
+establishment.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>Sensing in the man’s peculiar mien a desire perhaps
+for privacy as to his peculiar affairs, I merely
+said, as I turned from him, “I am sorry.”</p>
+
+<p>In turning, my eye was caught by a peculiarity
+in the markings on the white marble slab at the
+head of the well-kept grave within the little enclosure.
+It carried only the words:</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="large">JOHN BLANK</span></p>
+
+<p>and underneath in chiseled script these lines:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="verse"><i>Weep not for me, my children dear,</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>I am not dead, but sleeping here;</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>The day will come when I shall rise</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>To meet my loved ones in the skies.</i></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There were lacking the customary dates; neither
+birth nor death was recorded, nothing but the name
+so suggestive of desire to hide identity, and the
+meaningless verse. The grave was evidently not
+old—could it not hold the object of my search, perhaps
+masquerading under the pseudonym John
+Blank?</p>
+
+<p>“Who was this man?” I abruptly inquired of
+Craighead. “You evidently knew him well.”</p>
+
+<p>A peculiar, hunted look came into Craighead’s
+eyes as he too turned to glance at the headstone.
+“Oh yes, I knew him well, knew him during my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>childhood,” and after a pause added, “I know him
+yet, but you would not understand,” and turned
+toward the roadway as though wishing to terminate
+the interview.</p>
+
+<p>“My friend,” I said, “What was this man’s real
+name—how did he die? I am much interested.”</p>
+
+<p>Craighead appeared troubled. After a keen direct
+look, holding my eyes by something peculiar in his,
+he said, “His history is strange, most tragic. I have
+never discussed it with any person.” Then he hesitated,
+“But I rather like your manner, Mr.——”</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose. Gordon Montrose,” I hastily answered.
+“You evidently did not catch the name.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I was somewhat nonplussed when you addressed
+me. You know Hugh Craighead has few
+friends hereabout,” he said rather pridefully, I
+then thought.</p>
+
+<p>The thought persisted—“This may be acting.”</p>
+
+<p>“A relative, I presume, and a much loved one
+to bring you out to his resting place,” I ventured.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” Craighead replied, “the man was just one
+of the many unfortunates, a plaything of fate,
+whose life was a fever and whose death was a terrible
+tragedy. But,” he continued, “he did not suffer
+alone, as I find cases just as sad as his in our work.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t think I quite understand your real work,
+Mr. Craighead.”</p>
+
+<p>He smiled peculiarly. “I am doing for both body
+and soul what your ministers of the gospel claim to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>be doing for the soul. I am salving the mentality of
+the derelicts of Canada, picking up the hulks held
+in the whirlpool and those set adrift by the state to
+become a new menace to society; searching out the
+history of felons claiming innocence or justification
+and obtaining the release of the worthy; caring for
+them until self-respect returns.”</p>
+
+<p>Craighead turned toward Blank’s grave. “That
+silent sleeper there, a felon, a suicide, yet a man—every
+inch a man. Would to God I had been a
+grown man and had known his wrongs.”</p>
+
+<p>He drew his hand across his eyes as though wiping
+away a film, a vision stirred by recollection;
+then, as though exhausted, seated himself on a flat
+slab of marble covering all that was mortal of one
+who had lived and loved and was no more.</p>
+
+<p>Both of us fell silent. There was for me a moment
+of embarrassment; the man was so gentlemanly,
+so womanish and yet so strong. Nothing of
+the overlord I had pictured; my sympathies were
+keenly aroused. “I should like to hear his story,” I
+said, “maybe I can render you some assistance;” an
+attempt to break the embarrassing silence rather
+than the expression of a hope.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead looked keenly at me, seeming to wish
+to read my thought as well as character and after a
+pause, “Mr. Montrose, what is your calling?”</p>
+
+<p>“Lawyer,” I answered, “and you are also a lawyer.
+I was informed that you were interested in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>helping criminals, but did not quite grasp the nature
+of your work. I wish I could see the reformatory.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reformatory!” he shot back. “You shall. Why
+man, that word reeks of abuse, cruelty, petty graft
+and everything that is loathsome. You shall see my
+<i>home</i>, my guests, the evidence of the worth of my
+work.”</p>
+
+<p>Here he paused as I replied, promptly accepting
+the invitation. Into his eyes that were blazing crept
+a look of defeat, fear, I thought. He looked at his
+watch, glanced at the sun just disappearing behind
+the ridge of the peaked roof of the one-storied
+church. I could read a wish to recall the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Montrose, night will soon be here. You are
+seven miles from the village, without a conveyance.
+I have few callers at Craighead Hall.
+Frankly, were there any means of getting you back
+to your hotel, I should ask you to spend the day,
+rather than—” again he hesitated as though reflecting—</p>
+
+<p>“However, I shall enjoy your company tonight,”
+and his face lighted as he added, “It is long
+since I have spent an evening in the company of a
+brother in the law—and I may wish to ask your advice
+on a matter—Well, my home is but three
+miles away.”</p>
+
+<p>In silence we walked southward across fields of
+wheat stubble—across plowed land. No fenced road
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>was encountered until just before coming to a dense
+wood. We turned into a broad pathway—it was
+little more—the turf had, however, been cut by the
+wheels of vehicles.</p>
+
+<p>Save for a monosyllabic “A short cut,” from my
+host, no word passed between us. Craighead seemed
+in a brown study and I felt the intruder. We
+reached the border of the wood, a high fence
+stretched off to right and left as far as I could see.
+Craighead selected a key from a ring holding
+many of varying sizes and unlocked a small gate in
+the fence, paused for me to enter, then relocked
+the gate.</p>
+
+<p>I began to entertain misgivings. The man was
+certainly peculiar. Was he sane? What was hidden
+in this dark timber confronting us? Was I but following
+Hogarth, to disappear?</p>
+
+<p>A well-defined roadway led us into deeper shadows.
+Footsteps made scarcely a sound as they
+pressed the damp leaves under foot. The gloom
+was oppressive. The silence of the man walking
+alongside though just a step ahead, the eerie surroundings,
+all tended to stir in me a foreboding of
+evil.</p>
+
+<p>I was about to break the silence, although my
+host’s preoccupied manner indicated such an intrusion
+presumptuous, when the air was suddenly shattered
+by a most startling sound, the baying, near at
+hand, of what seemed an army of hounds.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>I stopped, frozen in my tracks. Before I could
+utter a word, Craighead placed two fingers in his
+mouth giving a shrill whistle as half-a-dozen huge,
+long-eared brown animals came hurtling into the
+roadway from all directions. We had been surrounded,
+effectually trapped.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly the animals stopped, every beast alert,
+then Craighead said gently, “Come on boys, ’tis
+only your master.”</p>
+
+<p>They crowded about him, emitting short muffled
+sounds, not touching him, just seemingly expressing
+joy and affection. I had retreated a step or
+two, involuntarily, but aside from being the recipient
+of a glance from many an upturned eye in
+which the white showed viciously from ugly, many-wrinkled
+heads, I was ignored.</p>
+
+<p>As we followed the dogs, a pack of bloodhounds
+I observed, my uneasiness increased, and the pathway
+becoming more and more obscure as twilight
+deepened into night, I thought of retreat.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead suddenly stopped, laid his hand on
+my shoulder, “Pardon my seeming boorishness,
+Mr. Montrose. I have a heavy problem; you don’t
+mind my thinking it out?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not in the least,” I replied, glad to hear his
+voice addressing me. He sent the dogs ahead of us
+with a word.</p>
+
+<p>“In my peculiar work I sometimes have to call
+on my four-footed friends here for aid in running
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>down some poor devil who in gaining physical
+freedom loses what little mental poise prison has
+left him and endeavors too early a return to old
+haunts, where he would soon become either the
+hunted or the hunter among the wolves of society,
+and eventually find his way back into confinement.</p>
+
+<p>“These are bloodhounds, most intelligent
+brutes. They will run down and hold but will not
+harm any person. You see I have many thousands
+of acres in my home; the country is sparsely settled.
+Bears, wolves and the dreaded lynx are plentiful,
+even in this wood, though we hunt them incessantly.
+Thank Heaven, though a number of men
+have run away, nobody has been eaten yet.”</p>
+
+<p>We had been walking with long strides and, just
+then, emerged from the wood into a clearing. The
+terrain rose quite rapidly as we advanced, until at
+length we were on a plateau across which we followed
+a well-made road seemingly for a long distance.
+The fading twilight could not hide the fact
+that on either side were cultivated fields and away
+to the right a dark shadow marked a hill, much
+higher than the elevation which we had attained.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead appeared to be hurrying as though
+anxious to make some goal before darkness closed
+down; there was a moon, but it had not yet arisen.</p>
+
+<p>“Here we are,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>We came abreast of and passed a number of large
+barns and a long, one-storied stable of stone. The
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>munching of hay and grain, the stamping of hoofs,
+and such usual sounds as come from a small army
+of horses housed for the night, struck my auricular
+sense as weird and untoward, so highly keyed were
+my nerves. I thought I could discern people moving
+about in the open spaces between the buildings,
+but save for the sounds made by the animals, everywhere
+was silence. A human voice, or even the barking
+of a dog would have afforded a degree of relief.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead preceding me, we soon passed a picketed
+enclosure, evidently the dog kennels. A man
+was housing the hounds. Farther along, we entered,
+through a gate, onto a white graveled walk
+which seemingly led us through an orchard, as I
+could make out the outline of trees while the
+perfumed emanations from ripe apples came to
+me soothingly.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/w.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="W">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">W</span>E STOOD before a doorway of
+dark wood, heavy but not pretentious,
+and showing some carving
+in the subdued light thrown by a
+lamp enclosed in glass and set into
+the heavy jamb on the left.</p>
+
+<p>The building seemed to be one-storied, and of
+stone. It stretched away on either side of the door
+into the night. I could not make even a guess as to
+its dimensions, but it loomed large in my imagination.</p>
+
+<p>“We are home,” Craighead said, throwing back
+the heavy oak door and holding it apparently with
+left arm outstretched and with head slightly
+bowed; a mute invitation to me to precede him
+across the portal of Craighead Hall.</p>
+
+<p>I stepped into what was evidently an upper
+reception hall, as directly in front of me was the
+top tread of a broad stairway. My host said in a
+quiet tone, “I have brought you in the nearest
+way,” closed the door and preceded me down the
+stair.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>I noted two things—the house was silent, and he
+did not lock the door.</p>
+
+<p>We descended a broad stairway with wide oak
+bannisters on either side, the lower steps flaring out
+to at least a dozen feet to the left of the center of
+a great audience hall. In front was a huge doorway,
+evidently the main entrance to the house.
+Small, diamond-shaped, leaded glass windows
+lined either side and the top of the massive two-leaved
+door; plain square cut-glass lighted lamps,
+presenting the appearance of vases, cast their glow
+to meet that of similar lamps on the staircase.
+Stretching away to the right was a table, its polished
+surface glistening as though alive, as far as
+my vision could penetrate in the subdued light
+thrown by a row of lamps set into the walls.
+Heavy black oak paneling went from polished floor
+to beamed ceiling, and apparently some fifteen to
+twenty feet away the dying embers of a wood fire
+in a mass of carving sent up little spurts of flame,
+throwing shadows back of beams that looked colossal.
+A medieval hall, lifted bodily from some old-world
+castle, an Elsinore, some Baron’s lair, where
+lolled and drank and quarreled, brutal but brave,
+a race of desperate men, happily long extinct.</p>
+
+<p>Rooted to the spot, I looked in amazement down
+the length of the polished table and the illusion
+was complete. Instantly there flashed over me the
+thought that I should witness the stately procession
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>of flunkies in crimson and yellow preceding the
+Baron and his lady, or hear the measured tramp,
+tramp of the halberdiers as they filed in and took
+their places followed by the Lord of the Castle and
+his roistering friends.</p>
+
+<p>I felt Craighead’s fingers on my shoulder, heard
+his voice say as from a distance, so absorbed was I
+in these strange surroundings, “Pardon me a moment,
+will you step into the library? I must speak
+to my sister,” and he ran lightly up the stairs, leaving
+me bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>No word of any sister or other woman in this
+strange establishment had come to me or crossed
+my mind. I had turned toward the stair when addressed,
+and as Craighead disappeared, my brain
+sharply pictured my host as at best peculiar, perhaps
+more so than that word would express.</p>
+
+<p>The library—where was it?</p>
+
+<p>As though in reply to my mental query came a
+quiet, “The library, sir,” and I turned to find a
+man standing near me, who, certainly to my thinking,
+had arisen from nowhere, a man, indicating an
+open door at some distance to the right, as I faced
+the stairway.</p>
+
+<p>The man preceded me to the door, stood and
+bowed me through. He was dressed quietly in dark
+colored tweeds.</p>
+
+<p>Some friend of my host who would join me, I
+speculated, and was surprised to hear the door close
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>without a word from him and to find myself alone
+in a large room, paneled like the hall in black oak.
+Two French windows at one end, a fireplace half-way
+down the wall opposite where I entered, a
+large screen at the farther end, a table or two,
+heavy chairs all about, a lounge and books, books
+from floor to ceiling and from end to end almost.
+Two large hunting scenes in oil covered a portion
+of one wall.</p>
+
+<p>No touch of woman’s softness was here. The
+lights, shaded to cast their full strength at certain
+points, served but to accentuate the severity of the
+room. It dawned on me, as I entered from the
+orchard, that this old-world building must sit on
+the side of a hill, that here, miles and miles from a
+railroad or access to any port—right here—was
+mystery, tragedy perhaps. A chill ran through
+me. One could fairly hear the silence of this
+mammoth house.</p>
+
+<p>I crossed to the window—its frame extended to
+the floor—drew aside a curtain, and was peering
+out onto a wide veranda. I started as though struck
+a blow as I heard my host say: “My sister presents
+her compliments and begs to be excused, Mr.——”</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose,” I replied, noting in my host an
+abstraction, an air of dejection, saddening and depressing
+beyond description. “Gordon Montrose;
+Scotch, as Scottish as your name, Craighead, would
+lead me to believe you, though your lineaments are
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>not perhaps as Scotch as mine,” and to give the man
+opportunity to find himself, I rambled on, “I have
+all the romantic leaning of the Scot and let me add,
+all his curiosity, and this house, this palace hidden
+away in the wilds of Canada, certainly arouses my
+entire inheritance in that direction. I am delighted
+to have the privilege of being your guest for the
+night.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am glad indeed to have you here,” Craighead
+interposed before I could add that the strange surroundings
+into which my search for Hogarth had
+brought me added greatly to my desire for the
+story connecting the life of this young man with
+that of the sleeper just outside the little cemetery
+whose marble marking read “John Blank.”</p>
+
+<p>Craighead continued, “This certainly is a unique
+old place when one looks at the surroundings. My
+father was, shall we say, eccentric. He loved his
+home in Scotland and transplanted to this place of
+exile as much of the inside of his boyhood home as
+was possible, but the light of day will dispel many
+of your illusions. In the meantime, let us see what
+the chef has provided for us. You must be famished
+after such an unaccustomed amount of exercise,”
+adding, “City chaps, as I well know from experience,
+seldom get the exercise required by natural
+laws.”</p>
+
+<p>As we turned toward a table evidently hidden by
+a screen which had been silently spirited away, a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>door at the end of the room opened, as though in
+answer to the inquiry. A well-dressed man with
+nothing of the butler air, entered and lowering his
+eyes to the floor said, “Served, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>The dinner was everything to be desired. Mutton
+broth with barley, fish, roast partridge, everything
+well-cooked and served from a table behind
+the large screen by the man who had opened the
+library door.</p>
+
+<p>Seated across the table from my host I could not
+avoid noting as he directed the conversation to my
+work and away from himself that he was preoccupied,
+uneasy, I thought. He looked old and care-worn
+for a man evidently not much past thirty. My
+mind was not on our conversation, nor was his. I
+wished to ply him with questions, but there was a
+something in his face which forbade a crudity.</p>
+
+<p>Who were these silent serving men? Could they
+by any possibility be manumitted criminals? No,
+their mien gave the lie to any such thought, nor did
+they carry the subservient air of house servants.</p>
+
+<p>By what magic did our food find a resting place
+behind the screen at the end of the room? I mentally
+placed the kitchen at least eighty feet away on
+what I calculated was the west end of the building,
+beyond the great hall. The house must back into the
+solid hill on the north.</p>
+
+<p>What an eery place! What tragedy in the life
+of man or woman, especially one possessing ample
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>means; for the entire inside finish of the house including
+furnishings and books by the thousand
+must have come across the Atlantic to this far-off
+spot, and this called for heavy expenditure of
+money! What state of mind could have induced
+isolation in this God-forsaken spot in the wilderness?</p>
+
+<p>All these thoughts crowded through my mind as
+we talked of affairs in the outside world, and back
+of it all was the desire for Craighead’s story.</p>
+
+<p>My ruminations were brought to a sudden stop.
+I found myself and my host standing. A panel in
+the apparently solid west wall of the room was
+open and framed an apparition, a picture in white,
+or was it a wonderfully beautiful girl just budding
+into young womanhood?</p>
+
+<p>I could not believe the picture animate until she
+spoke. The voice had that carrying quality, that
+slight terminative inflection and refinement characteristic
+of the cultured Englishwoman.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes rested for a second on my face, then
+she turned to Craighead, her lips parted and I
+heard her say, “Pardon me, Hughie, I did not
+know that you had returned.”</p>
+
+<p>My host, showing embarrassment, took her hand,
+leading her to the table, saying, “Mr. Montrose,
+my sister, Elaine.”</p>
+
+<p>Inwardly I cursed my faltering tongue as it
+stammered something unintelligible. I was no callow
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>youth, had met many beautiful women without
+embarrassment, but while heart and head made
+graceful acknowledgment of the honor, yes, even
+such response as would a Sir Galahad to the fair
+chatelaine of the castle in which he found himself
+a guest, my tongue was tied.</p>
+
+<p>I heard her, as from a great distance, say, “I trust
+you will be happy here, sir,” as she looked at me
+with interested sympathy, showing through dark
+sad eyes. Then turning to her brother she said, “I
+shall not intrude. I will have my dinner served
+upstairs.”</p>
+
+<p>Quickly as I recognized the mistake, Craighead
+forestalled me in thought. “Elaine, what a blunderer
+I am. Mr. Montrose is my friend, not one
+of our usual guests. He is engaged as we are, in
+helping unfortunates. Won’t you join us? We shall
+both be delighted to have our coffee and liqueur
+extended indefinitely for the pleasure of your
+company.”</p>
+
+<p>Gracefully the young lady came to me, offering
+her hand, and, as I bent over it, she said, “Mr.
+Montrose, may I also have the privilege of calling
+you friend? Hugh and I are so close, his friend is
+my friend.” And when she added to the little compliment
+a smile so innocent and winning, I felt that
+I had never before seen so beautiful a picture. She
+stood so slim and straight, delicate and refined, yes,
+over-refined, I thought, and yet there was lacking
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>nothing in youthful vigor and confidence; as much
+a contradiction as her brother.</p>
+
+<p>I looked into her large questioning brown eyes
+as I assured her, in a reply registering not a little
+embarrassment, that I was honored, was fortunate,
+and sincerely trusted that in some way I should be
+brought to the test that I might demonstrate my
+appreciation of the honor. Rather an unusual, but
+sincere, declaration for me, a confirmed bachelor of
+almost thirty.</p>
+
+<p>As I seated her between Mr. Craighead and myself,
+I looked down on a wonderful mass of molten
+gold crowning a well-shaped head. As we talked
+seriously, or as the conversation touched on events
+in my country, stirring or portentous, the pupils of
+her eyes dilated, changing from brown to black,
+and the white hand in which the veins showed
+faintly, would noticeably tremble. She seemed so
+deadly in earnest and so interested in world affairs
+that one forgot her youth and gave to her expressed
+opinion a weight usually reserved for that of the
+more mature.</p>
+
+<p>Never did we touch on matters intimate to the
+Craighead private life. I found the young lady
+adroit in drawing me out, making as much a study
+of me as I of her, apparently. I learned that she and
+her brother had spent many years abroad, had
+never separated, and that there was a sister then
+abroad, also.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>The brother seemed uneasy, his eyes seldom left
+his sister’s face, and I wondered if he might not
+entertain a fear that the conversation would in
+some way revert to the request “to be excused”
+which she certainly had never made. I may not say
+that the thought left me wholly free of embarrassment.
+I was sorely puzzled, amazed at meeting
+here in such strange surroundings a lady, a mere
+girl, but with all the poise of the young woman of
+society, capable of discussing interestingly questions
+far beyond the sphere of the little Canadian
+principality which it seemed they seldom left.</p>
+
+<p>We were discussing the translation into Greek
+and Coptic of the writings of Moses, about 300
+B. C. at the court of Ptolemy Philadelphus in Alexandria,
+Egypt. The brother who, I learned, held a
+Master’s degree from Edinburgh University, advanced
+the theory that Euclid, who was a dweller
+at Ptolemy’s court, had much to do with the cryptic
+figures in the Pentateuch; that the mystic numbers
+were his, and that the translation from the original
+by 72 Levites, each in a separate cell, in 72 days,
+into five books, Genesis to Deuteronomy, meant
+that the entire history of man, from the beginning,
+including all laws necessary for his guidance during
+the circle of life, was represented by Euclid in this
+way: the five books representing man’s senses, the
+circle of life 360 degrees formed by five times
+seventy-two.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>“A trick of Mr. Euclid’s,” Hugh was continuing,
+and I was thinking, “Here is a man who treats Holy
+Writ rather lightly,” and wondered to what subdivision
+of the Protestant church the brother and
+sister claimed affiliation, for I knew that the little
+edifice where I had met Craighead was not Catholic.</p>
+
+<p>I had been studying the brother’s face as he
+talked, when I was startled at seeing the sister suddenly
+straighten back in her chair, extend her right
+arm over the table with the little finger only resting
+thereon, the thumb and forefinger placed as though
+holding a pen or pencil.</p>
+
+<p>The evident rigidity of the arm and hand flashed
+over my mind’s eye. I looked into her face. To what
+could be attributed the terrible change that had
+taken place? A moment before a beautiful, vivacious
+girl, now a gray-faced woman. Beads of dew
+covered an ashen forehead. Her eyes looked
+through and past me. It seemed as though they
+pierced even the wall in the shadows at the far end
+of the room. She seemed to be listening.</p>
+
+<p>Involuntarily I placed my hand on hers. It was
+icy cold and moist. Speechless I arose, but before I
+could open my lips to tender an offer of aid, her
+brother who had not taken his gaze from his sister’s
+face nor moved, said in a low tone, “Please
+be seated. Do not touch her. My sister is subject to
+these seizures. It will pass in a little while.”</p>
+
+<p>Then she spoke, not to either of us, but as though
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>addressing somebody present who had spoken to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes, I’ll go. Yes, all right dear, though you
+are mistaken. He is Hugh’s friend and mine,” the
+last two words were hesitatingly uttered, as she
+quietly arose, turned and walked toward the west
+wall apparently unaware of the presence of either
+her brother or myself.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh preceded her and opened the panel
+through means, which my excited condition prevented
+my observing, and my hostess, my brilliant
+young chatelaine, passed from sight through the
+wall, without uttering a word, as though walking
+in a sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh stood in the opening looking up.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/w.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="W">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">W</span>HAT an unfortunate family skeleton
+I had unwittingly intruded
+upon. Evidently this was a repetition.
+What possible ailment could
+in the flash of an eye transform an
+animated girl of twenty to an
+ashen-faced woman of forty? Why should the
+blood withdraw from hand and arm, presenting the
+chill of the dead, and yet fail to interfere with the
+sense of speech, of locomotion, yes, even of direction?</p>
+
+<p>I was puzzled, embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh closed the panel and walked in silence
+back to the table, helplessness, sadness, the depths
+of pity written on his downcast face.</p>
+
+<p>I spoke first, “Mr. Craighead, we are both distressed.
+I have no desire to intrude. Doubtless you
+are needed. Please do not permit any mistaken sense
+of duty as a host to keep you from the side of your
+sister who sorely needs assistance. May I be shown
+to my room?”</p>
+
+<p>Craighead reached out his hand to meet mine;
+ensued a clasp which in the extremely tense situation
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>meant more than months of association; he at
+least had made a friend.</p>
+
+<p>Disregarding my protest, my host preceded me
+upstairs and ushering me into a spacious room, said,
+“Shall see you in the morning. We have no hours
+here, the sun will awaken you. Good night.” He
+turned, closed the door, and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Night clothes, neatly folded, spread on the
+snow-white bed coverlet, every convenience of refined
+bachelorhood in the great city whence I had
+come, was here in this remote part of demi-civilization.
+I had brought no baggage from the village.</p>
+
+<p>Alone, not a sound in the big place. I speculated
+on the strangeness of things, wished for day that I
+might get my bearings, mental and otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>In time I slept, nor did I dream in that unconscious
+period in which the battery of what is termed
+life receives its regular charge from nature’s dynamo,
+without which charge the house of the soul
+would become uninhabitable. In the twilight of
+sleep, when the subconscious was dominant, I failed
+to realize in this house of mystery anything more
+than a strange, eerie sense of the unusual, not the
+unreal.</p>
+
+<p>I slept late, and had just finished dressing when
+the serving man of the evening entered with breakfast
+on a tray.</p>
+
+<p>Was I spied upon? I had bathed and dressed
+quietly, had not given any signal, yet there was a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>silent man with breakfast. A mysterious house, certainly,
+a peculiar host and hostess. I thought while
+dressing of the embarrassment of meeting Hugh
+and inquiring about his sister.</p>
+
+<p>The servant, in silence, after a grave “good
+morning,” threw open the double French windows
+letting in the sunlight of a warm September morning,
+and retired.</p>
+
+<p>It was about ten o’clock when I walked out onto a
+broad upper veranda and made my first daylight
+survey of the surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>A broad river, almost a lake, I thought at least
+two miles wide. Away up to my right as I faced it.
+The bay narrowed or was partially closed by islands
+and to my left it stretched away to where vision was
+cut off by trees. Across was evidently an island, as
+I could see water pretty well back through the
+stumps of dead trees running from both its east and
+west points. Immediately in front of the house,
+two rows of solemn Lombardy poplars lined on east
+and west a broad graveled walk, running down to a
+pretentious boathouse and pier. Back of the poplars
+were two trellised rows of wild grape and wisteria
+vines. Hedges of clipped cedar lined a driveway
+to the beach at the right, and spruce and cedar thickets
+seemed to extend away up the shore line. An
+apple orchard to my left stretched over a rise in the
+ground out of my range of vision around the east
+end of the house.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>A perfect Canadian September day. A melodious
+voice floated up to me, “Come down and help me
+pick apples.”</p>
+
+<p>“Coming,” and I was down a stairway at the
+east end of the veranda wondering what other
+young lady the place housed, for surely the voice
+was feminine and as surely young. Thought of
+meeting my young hostess after last night never
+entered my head. She was as something a thousand
+miles removed from the commonplace of apple-picking.</p>
+
+<p>It was my hostess—radiant, smiling through eyes
+of ebullient youth from a perch at least ten feet
+from the ground in the crotch of an immense apple
+tree. Thank God, my vision of the gray-faced
+woman of last night was dispelled. She became dissociated
+from Hugh’s sister. Had the afflicted sister
+even existed?</p>
+
+<p>“Good morning, Mr. Montrose,” was Elaine’s
+greeting. “You got up just in time to help me. This
+is my own tree, you see. Every apple on it is a
+graftling, and I always pick them myself before
+the men begin.”</p>
+
+<p>I felt at home at once. I picked apples, packed
+apples in baskets, apples, the names of which I had
+never before heard, all growing on one immense
+tree, “all through the labor of love of her father,”
+I was told.</p>
+
+<p>Her father died before she was born. Hugh had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>gone to the county seat to appear in court. My luggage
+at the hotel had been sent for. I was to be
+Hughie’s guest here “until I tired of the place—and
+the society,” the last with just a little of that
+arch look which lets down bars ever so slightly and
+denies while it invites an adequate response. All so
+cheerfully and with such an air of certainty of herself,
+imparted from above and accepted by me as
+natural and conclusive.</p>
+
+<p>I marveled at the man, Montrose, staid bachelor,
+lawyer, man of affairs on a serious mission, hypnotized,
+actually carried away by the charm of a
+young girl; or was it the unusual in the situation
+that made me forget everything but the moment
+and give myself up wholly to enjoyment of an unusual
+girl’s vivacity and sweetness.</p>
+
+<p>A ripple of silvery laughter as an apple dropped
+several feet onto my uncovered head.</p>
+
+<p>“Help me down; I could not resist the temptation.
+It was the last on the tree,” came the laughing
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>“Eve was more considerate. She did not risk killing
+him,” I called back.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” she replied, “but you know men were
+scarce then,” as two small high boots slid down
+along the bole of the tree followed by knickerbockered
+limbs, a white blouse and light blue flannel
+coat. Then with “coming!” she swung out onto a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>lower limb and dropped gracefully into my extended
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>Just for the fraction of a moment I held her, for
+so brief an instant that she could not possibly have
+noted an intent and yet, frankly, there was intent.
+That was a moment of ecstasy, just to feel her lithe
+body resting against mine, to sense the innocence,
+the trust. Surely I was not in love! Did not life
+hold to sterner things?</p>
+
+<p>Was it the exertion, did the feminine sense catch
+the thrill of the moment of which I thought only
+God and I had knowledge? What was it that suffused
+her cheek and caused her to lower her eyes
+from mine which had sought them?</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” was the commonplace that brought
+back my truant senses. “Shall we walk down to the
+river? There are twelve baskets full,” she added.</p>
+
+<p>“And it is quite appropriate that we seek the two
+small fishes,” I remarked as we walked shoreward
+between the poplars.</p>
+
+<p>“That was a wonderful allegory, the loaves and
+fishes,” Elaine replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Allegory?” I queried. “I read it as a happening.”</p>
+
+<p>Laughingly she said, “You must have an orthodox
+soul, and I am just in the mood to shock it with
+a sensible interpretation of that miracle.” “You
+wouldn’t shock me at all; it would be interesting,
+even if a bit sacrilegious,” I replied and with a side
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>glance at me she said: “Well, then, I’ll take the
+risk.”</p>
+
+<p>“The fishes, you know, were to the new sect a
+symbol, representing the all, beginning and end,
+life and death. The five loaves represent the five
+senses. The Master’s sermon was the mental food
+of the multitude, and the twelve baskets full of
+bread that remained were the teachings that they
+carried home in their hearts, so that they might
+have enough food for all their lives; twelve baskets
+full, because in the circle of the Zodiac there
+are twelve signs or houses.”</p>
+
+<p>As I listened to this modern interpretation of one
+of the mysteries of my religion, trepidation seized
+me. Were we not discussing biblical matters last
+night when the awful change took place in this
+young lady? I looked anxious; perhaps I showed
+my anxiety too plainly, for as she ceased speaking
+and just as we reached a bench on the pier, she
+looked into my eyes and exclaimed, “Oh, I am
+afraid I have shocked you. You mustn’t take it to
+heart, Mr. Montrose. You see we live a very solitary
+life here, my brother and I. Visitors are rare,
+and Hugh is often away. So I turn to books for
+companionship, and more frequently than not find
+myself disagreeing with the writers. It’s good mental
+exercise, but rather doubtful as social training.
+All the same, I love it—the woods and the river
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>and the solitude. I wouldn’t leave it even to return
+to Scotland, or to—”</p>
+
+<p>She broke off suddenly, jumped up from the pier
+bench and started on a run toward the house, calling
+back to me, “Hugh is home, something must have
+happened.”</p>
+
+<p>I followed her up the walk, catching a glimpse
+of her as she disappeared through the front door.</p>
+
+<p>I walked leisurely out to the big apple tree and
+found a man whom I had not previously seen
+carrying away the apple baskets. Volunteering help,
+I took a couple of baskets and followed the man
+through a door in the cliff side, close to the east
+wall of the house. We passed several open doors
+on our right. They were the openings to vaults for
+different kinds of fruit and vegetables.</p>
+
+<p>Halting at the fifth opening, which had a huge
+door swung wide, I entered and put my baskets
+alongside of the workman’s. The room, apparently
+fifteen feet wide, was long. Many boxes bound
+with iron straps were neatly arranged on one side
+of the room and in the far end where the shadows
+were not penetrated by the light of the single lamp,
+I could dimly see the outline of another door,
+closed.</p>
+
+<p>“Where does that door lead to?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know, sir,” the man replied, “I have
+never seen it open. Mr. Craighead carries the keys.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, Montrose, has sister pressed the lawyer
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>into service?” came a greeting from Hugh who
+was standing in the doorway. We shook hands; he
+asked the man if Miss Craighead’s apples were all
+in, receiving an affirmative reply, closed and locked
+the door, suggesting that we smoke on the veranda
+while the day was still warm.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead explained that he had received a message
+at the village, enabling him to return so early,
+but gave no further information. He seemed worried,
+evidently feeling that he owed some kind of
+an explanation as to Elaine’s ailment.</p>
+
+<p>As we rested comfortably, our eyes not meeting,
+both gazing out over the bay, I could see beads of
+sweat on his face and hands. I reached over, laying
+my hand on his, saying, “Can I do anything for
+you? I would like to be a good friend; there is
+something worrying you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he replied, “I am at my wit’s end. You
+saw my sister’s serious condition last night; a recurrence,
+yes, fear for her life or worse, her sanity,
+keeps me always most anxious. God only knows
+how it will end if we do not have help.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have taken me into your confidence a little
+way,” I urged. “Tell me what the doctors say;
+how did it set up in the first place; what is the
+disease?”</p>
+
+<p>Craighead looked at me, then said, “My friend,
+you would not understand should I name the
+trouble. Our history is a peculiar one, some time I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>shall tell it to you. Elaine’s trouble dates away back
+to childhood; perhaps back of that,” and Craighead
+paused.</p>
+
+<p>I did not understand fully, but a shudder passed
+over me as I thought of epilepsy, congenital tendency
+toward insanity, a terrible heritage for this
+lovable girl. My horror must have shown on my
+face, for Hugh hastened to say, “Not that, not insanity.
+I shall tell you the story from the beginning.
+The day is before us. Elaine has gone out with the
+hounds, we shall not be interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>“It is not a pleasant story, that of the Craigheads.
+You wished to know John Blank’s history. They
+are closely knitted. In telling one, you will hear
+the other.”</p>
+
+<p>“Please begin at the beginning. I am interested
+in every detail.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/l.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="L">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">L</span>EANING back in his chair, with
+unseeing eyes cast upward, Craighead
+paused so long that I feared
+his mind had altered; then drawing
+his hand across his forehead as
+though wiping away some vision,
+his entire expression changed. He commenced as
+though still a boy.</p>
+
+<p>“This entire estate was even more on the outskirts
+of civilization when I was a boy than it is
+now. The village has grown, but it is still ten miles
+away. We had few neighbors, only one east of us,
+two miles or more away, through a black ash
+swamp, impassable even yet except when the river
+is very low, then difficult. To my knowledge, there
+was no communication between this neighbor, John
+Blank, and my family. Blank was a sort of myth to
+us, never seen, only reputed living down the ‘back
+channel.’</p>
+
+<p>“Father was a strange man, silent, austere; my
+sister, the one in Scotland, Alix, and I were in awe
+of him, but only on account of his austerity. I
+thought, even at thirteen, that this was a queer place
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>for a rich man to make a home, and wondered why
+a man of education and refinement should hide a
+wife, and a beautiful wife my mother was, away in
+this God-forsaken part of the world and bring my
+sister and myself up without girls and boys of our
+age to play with.</p>
+
+<p>“I asked mother, but she requested me never to
+refer to the subject again. We children went to the
+red school you saw a mile beyond the little church,
+when weather permitted our being carried there in
+a buckboard, and we were tutored by our mother.</p>
+
+<p>“Alix was two years my senior, very bright and a
+good pianist. I passed the high school examination
+at twelve years of age, but because of a body too
+frail, was not permitted to enter preparatory school
+as planned, with McGill and the profession of
+doctor as the ultimate. To this illness was due my
+meeting John Blank, the mythical, never visible
+but reputed at school a dangerous character, an
+ogre, without ears and with hoofs where his hands
+should have been.</p>
+
+<p>“In my wanderings through the dense woods
+that hemmed in Craighead Hall, as my father
+named this house, coming much closer then than
+now and stretching for miles around, I found in the
+border of the swamp a small knoll covered with
+beech trees at the summit, and completely hedged
+about with stunted spruce and cedar; a creek winding
+around almost the entire base. Here I secretly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>built a leafy bower, a little house, and almost daily
+from spring to fall I took a book and crossing
+nearly a mile of forest reveled in the romantic
+<i>Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage</i>, <i>Lalla Rookh</i>, <i>The
+Deformed Transformed</i>; the poets and the poetic
+my sole and beloved companions, and chameleon-like,
+I became the hero of every song and story.</p>
+
+<p>“The one disturbing thought assailing me, now
+and then becoming a haunting fear, was that I
+might some day meet John Blank. Neurotic, I
+feared that to see him meant death from terror
+and my retreat was on an upper reach of Blank’s
+creek.</p>
+
+<p>“One day the woes of <i>Little Dorrit</i> having
+aroused in me such a feeling of resentment against
+her oppressors and such a flood of sympathy that I
+was blinded by tears, I was startled to see standing
+before me in actual life, John Blank the dreaded.
+He had no ears—that registered, and as expected,
+I faded, died, just as my school companions predicted.”</p>
+
+<p>As Craighead said this preposterous thing and
+paused, I looked at him sharply, questioning his
+sanity, but he was absorbed in the recollection, was
+a boy again and resumed as though the thing had
+just then transpired.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” Craighead continued, “I died, but the
+resurrection did not wait on Old Gabriel.</p>
+
+<p>“Where was I? Snow-white linen, four posts of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>red cedar roughly hand-carved, a lamp, lighted
+but turned low, sat on a dresser near at hand. I can
+see the room now, painted a light blue. I was in
+bed, evidently not home, for we had no such room
+as this, and the aroma of roast duck came temptingly
+over the half partition beyond which I could
+hear somebody walking. I coughed involuntarily
+and sat up alarmed when the door opened and a
+not unkind but stern-faced woman about as old as
+my mother, I reflected, looked anxiously at me,
+saying,</p>
+
+<p>“‘Thanks to the good God, he’s alive. He will
+eat supper with us; then John, you must take the
+lad home; it is the only thing to do.’</p>
+
+<p>“At mention of John came an instantaneous mental
+picture, a queer fluttering in my chest and I fell
+back on the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>“A deep-toned voice came over the partition,
+‘How is the lad, Margie?’</p>
+
+<p>“There was in the voice a tone of sadness indescribable,
+yet I had heard that tone sometimes in
+the very minor chord struck by sister Alix when she
+was blue, always when I was having one of my bad
+coughing days. Byron would have analyzed the
+note was my thought. Was I not Byron only yesterday?
+I did analyze it and properly. Here was
+no ogre, but kindness, refinement, great sadness,
+and the inner sense even of precocious, adolescent,
+undernurtured youth reassured me, told me there
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>was nothing here to fear; told me that the earless
+head was living death, tragedy to this man as was
+his deformity to that other who wrote <i>The Deformed
+Transformed</i>, my hero Byron, and fear
+flew out of the window.</p>
+
+<p>“Tenderly and without offense to the exaggerated
+modesty of youth, the woman dressed me, took
+my hand and led me through the door, partially
+screening with her person the man. He stood as
+though in deep thought, head bowed, arms locked
+behind, leaning a little forward as though seeing
+something through the windows, where my gaze
+followed across a clearing, along rows of currant
+bushes down to an impenetrable swamp a few rods
+away, and growing dark in the fading twilight. I
+saw it all, and the three-quarter moon, and strange
+to say, even yet I fail to comprehend just why my
+immediate thoughts dwelt on these inconsequential
+things rather than on the man who had shocked me
+into a faint.</p>
+
+<p>“Then he extended his right hand, a flash at his
+face, a mental measurement of his stature with my
+father as the yard stick, six feet tall; my mind went
+blank for an instant. Here was no hand nor hoofs,
+only a pitiable, misshapen thing. All the fingers
+had been severed midway of the third phalanges.
+What an awful, unsightly thing, a thumb and four
+gross misshapen stubs in contact with my soft hand
+which had never known physical labor like that of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>other boys! I coughed, and the old weak feeling
+made me reel.</p>
+
+<p>“The man caught me in his arms and groaned,
+rather than said, ‘Oh, God, it can never be,’ then,
+still holding my face against his body, ‘Son, do not
+be afraid of me. I am deformed, but only in body.
+My ears and fingers, they cut them off, but they
+couldn’t destroy the will nor my heart. Son, it beats
+just like your father’s; let us be friends. My God,
+my lot is hard,’ and then he held me off and in a
+harsher voice said ‘Look at me. Once I was as
+other men. Men did this to me.’</p>
+
+<p>“A more terrifying sight for a boy never was
+presented. The face was scarred and lined, but the
+head was well-shaped and surmounted a strong
+athletic-looking body, but the pity of it—the lack
+of the accustomed semicircular protuberances on
+either side with scars marking each cheek from chin
+to temple and from nose bridge to jaw hinge, gave
+to the picture a terrifying, rather than a disgusting
+appearance. Without ears it would not have been so
+bad; the thick iron-gray bunch of hair growing
+low near the temples relieved the impression to
+some extent, but the scars, crosses carried by this
+man, not from the temple of justice to Golgotha,
+but throughout a lifetime until obliterated by post-mortem
+putrefaction! Ugh! They give me a chill
+yet! They brutalized an otherwise kindly, handsome
+face.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>“It was the eyes that saved the day, fearless, determined
+yet kindly brown eyes through which a
+man’s soul was shining. My terror was gone, I
+grasped the stumpy hand, felt drawn to the man,
+clasped him about the waist and wept. He held me
+close for a time and I could feel his body racked by
+sobs. The woman put an arm around me, saying,
+‘Supper is ready,’ and led me to the table.</p>
+
+<p>“I never ate much, nor talked during meals; was
+taught that it was unbecoming in youth to converse
+before elders, but while I then ate sparingly and
+at first with a lump in my throat, I was so drawn
+out by Blank’s quiet questioning that I was soon
+telling all about my family, all I knew. Especially
+that mother, while always appearing sad was apparently
+happy, and in reply to the direct question,
+said I, was awfully fond of father and mother as
+they would wander away together and sit on our
+veranda alone for hours.</p>
+
+<p>“I asked Blank if he knew why father with all
+his money (I had seen in the back vault a trunk
+full of gold pieces) settled here in the woods, and
+there was such a peculiar look in Blank’s eyes when
+he disclaimed any knowledge of the reason, that I
+wondered if he did not know more about our family
+than he was willing to disclose to me. He asked
+many questions about Alix and I thought I sensed
+in him a sort of yearning. Perhaps it was only because
+he had no children or had lost a daughter. I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>was not a dullard. The very seclusion of our household,
+father’s peculiar reserve and keenness seemed
+to have permeated; both Alix and I were observing
+youths.</p>
+
+<p>“Nine o’clock, and it suddenly dawned on me
+that my family would be anxious, perhaps hunting
+for me, though I had stayed as late once when I
+went to sleep in my retreat. Father would go out
+to the woods, atop the burnt hill, as we called it
+because once swept by a forest fire. Father found
+me there one day, reading Voltaire’s <i>La Pucelle</i>, a
+forbidden book and locked away thereafter.</p>
+
+<p>“Nobody knew of my bower in the creek’s embrace,
+or the joy I found in the music of the rippling
+water, the song of the birds and the whispering
+of the beech leaves. They all talked to me,
+never in words, but it seemed as though souls released
+from the body were trying to tell me the
+secrets of a hereafter. These friends knew my
+friends Byron and Shelley and many others, but
+not Voltaire, so I took him to the wood on the hill.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank took a lantern and led me by the hand
+down the lane between currant bushes right into
+the land of mystery, the impenetrable vine-tangled
+moss-hung swamp. I was surprised to find two logs
+laid lengthwise, flattened atop, on which we walked,
+the vines closing overhead. For a quarter of a mile
+or so we walked on such logs. The way led through
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>tall rushes, then shallow water smothered in wild
+rice, a dismal pathway to freedom.</p>
+
+<p>“Reeds and rice cradled a canoe well hidden. It
+was of red cedar and smooth as glass. A shove out
+and soon reeds and rice were left behind. Water-killed
+ash trees gave place to water-lily pads and
+soon we were in open water.</p>
+
+<p>“We were in the back waters of the great river
+but nearly two miles from the main stream, or bay.
+Blank paddled in silence, seemed sad or moody. I
+remember feeling that I was putting him to a great
+deal of trouble.</p>
+
+<p>“Almost at our landing, a good four miles, Blank
+spoke, ‘Son, it is better to lie a little sometimes than
+make others suffer. As you have expressed gratitude
+to me, give me your promise that you will not say
+one word about meeting me or going to my home—not
+to a living soul! I have my reasons and know
+that you will respect them if you promise.’</p>
+
+<p>“I promised. I would have promised that man
+anything and I would have kept faith—strange
+how chivalrous the age, thirteen, is in certain types.
+Wild horses could not have drawn out the truth
+as to where I spent that evening. I was ready to
+invent any story, take any censure. Neither father
+nor mother ever punished, only chided, but that
+method of correction had for me a bitter sting.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh arose without a word from me; he was
+right back to that night. Leaning over the heavy
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>railing enclosing the front veranda he drew his
+hand across his eyes as I had observed was his habit
+when trying to arouse himself and said, “Let us
+walk.”</p>
+
+<p>As we walked toward the river between the poplars,
+without preliminary, just as though he had
+not interrupted his story, Hugh, pointing to the
+left, said,</p>
+
+<p>“Blank kissed me on the brow, jumped into the
+canoe, and pushed out into the river. My father had
+never caressed me; mother often. I remember that
+while it embarrassed, the act further endeared
+Blank to me, he seemed so lonesome.</p>
+
+<p>“I circled up there through the orchard instead
+of taking the path, tiptoed up the east veranda
+stairs, pushed open the window of my room, the
+corner one next to yours, and after marveling that
+the house was so quiet, prepared to say that I had
+returned home early, fallen asleep in the orchard
+and had just awakened.</p>
+
+<p>“True, the housekeeper was worried over my
+absence but not unduly, however, as she was a
+rather placid specimen. I simply said to her that I
+was not feeling well when I returned, so did not
+wish dinner, her chief concern being that it was
+‘cold.’</p>
+
+<p>“My parents and Alix had gone to the village
+and had not yet returned. Soon they came in the
+front way; father was always so particular in matters
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>of form and deportment. I think he was endeavoring
+to teach his children through example.</p>
+
+<p>“Father said to me, ‘You look fatigued; what
+have you been doing?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Reading, sir,’ I replied.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Then go to bed,’ was his order, kindly given.</p>
+
+<p>“Alix had been led upstairs by the maid. I sorely
+wished to talk with her, as I sensed something amiss
+from the strained look on the faces of my parents.</p>
+
+<p>“Mother said,</p>
+
+<p>“‘Kiss me good night, my darling boy,’ took me
+in her arms and crying silently held me close, while
+she kissed me fervently.</p>
+
+<p>“I noticed a package of papers, one from Glasgow,
+with a fat letter with foreign postmark, which
+father had placed on the big table. Connecting
+these unusual things with father’s abrupt manner
+and mother’s tears, living over again the events of
+the evening, seeing Blank’s awful deformity, as
+though he stood beside my bed, I finally dozed off,
+sick at heart for the first time in my young life.</p>
+
+<p>“In the morning I went early to Alix’s room but
+she knew nothing, though she told me all about the
+marvels of Valleyford, its high buildings, some
+three stories higher by one than Craighead Hall,
+and neither of us was prepared for the shock when,
+noonday luncheon disposed of, father suddenly
+said, ‘Children, your grandfather, my father, in
+Scotland, is dead. Died a month ago. I am his only
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>heir. That means I inherit his property. I must
+start for Glasgow tomorrow. The property is nothing
+to me, God knows, but I must save it for you
+two bairns; mother may go with me. If she does,
+you must mind Mr. Hallowed, children, just as
+you would me. Hugh, you must give up your rambling
+in the woods. You are old enough to know
+the danger of being attacked by bears and lynx and
+timber wolves are thick this autumn.’</p>
+
+<p>“We promised. I do not think we realized in the
+slightest that our parents were going away.”</p>
+
+<p>At this point in his story, Craighead paused as
+though the recollection of the events of that long
+past day pained him immeasurably, turned his back
+to me by squaring around on the bench on the pier
+on which we had been resting, then resumed:</p>
+
+<p>“I am telling you these details with a purpose,
+Montrose; it will disclose itself in time. These
+were almost the parting words of my father, at
+least his last advice to me. He never returned from
+Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>“Mother refused to permit him to go alone.
+Heartsick at leaving her children even for a couple
+of months, she felt a duty to father, he seemed so
+strong yet so unfitted to go without her.</p>
+
+<p>“They drove away, their luggage one small
+leather trunk which father brought from the inner
+vault. I held open the great stone door which
+swung back and up so that when opened against
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>the wall it took all my strength to keep it from
+slamming shut. The staple for the hook meant to
+hold it open had loosened in the stone and father
+cautioned me not to trust it, but to brace myself
+against the open slab until he put some papers into
+the trunk.</p>
+
+<p>“I noticed that he locked the box from which he
+took the papers, that there were ribbons and big
+seals on the documents in his hands and that he
+was excited, if such a word may be applied to the
+condition of a man who was always calm. The big
+door fastened with a spring lock.</p>
+
+<p>“When I returned here five years ago, I tried
+every key, but could not unlock this vault. Some
+day I shall have a locksmith in and see what is in
+the boxes. I have put this off because of the sad
+memories stirred when I go into even the outer
+room where Elaine stores her apples.</p>
+
+<p>“Letters came; February, the long winter
+passed; there was a hitch in the estate’s settlement,
+Mother was not ill, but could not return alone, expressed
+much yearning for her children. From
+Father, admonitions as to health and conduct, directions
+to be relayed to John Hallowed, the foreman
+in charge, who watched the two of us like a
+hawk, even to seeing that we were safely tucked in
+nights, and I am afraid we led him a merry chase
+that winter, for youth’s natural trend is to be happy,
+and happiness in children means pranks and adventuring,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>distressing to elders in charge, especially
+such elders as old John, who felt a peculiar responsibility
+as our guardian.</p>
+
+<p>“In time, I confided to Alix my great adventure
+in the black ash swamp and we wove many a weird
+fiction about his life, but not even the wildest of
+our imaginings came within a thousand miles of the
+awfulness of the truth. You shall hear his story in
+good season. I am leading up to it, I cannot tell it.
+You must see for yourself. Today the whole
+strange thing would be unbelievable to you who
+know us as yet so slightly. You must stay with us
+this fall, Montrose,” Hugh added, and I replied,
+thanking him, “that I had a whole month, if he
+and Miss Craighead would not tire of me.”</p>
+
+<p>Resuming the thread of his story, Hugh said,
+“Our summons came in August. We had become
+accustomed to the Hallowed regime and there had
+grown in our young hearts the spirit of content.
+Gradually during the months there had crept upon
+us the feeling that our parents had gone on and on
+out through the wood which I had through tears
+watched them enter; the picture of both grew dim
+though Mother’s dear face came frequently into
+my thoughts. I wonder if the painful love in the
+hearts of all young people is not perhaps very much
+intensified through propinquity.</p>
+
+<p>“One evening we were here on this pier and about
+to go for a swim when we noticed a canoe put
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>straight out from Verde Island, that strip of green
+right opposite,” and Hugh pointed. “Two men
+were in the canoe, one paddling. The swim was
+postponed.</p>
+
+<p>“We speculated as to the canoe’s occupants, with
+many a pleasant anticipation, as a stranger at Craighead
+Hall was always an adventure for us children,
+old John Hallowed not being overly inclined
+socially.</p>
+
+<p>“The canoe pulled in right alongside the pier.
+The passenger was a stranger, a well-dressed man,
+I judged about twenty-five to thirty years of age,
+the paddler Big Beaver, an Indian who lived on
+the island from whom father bought furs for rugs
+and coats. Beaver was our friend. We had often
+paddled our canoes over to his house, a half dugout
+in the side of a knoll; he had permitted us to
+dig for arrowheads and flint axes in the old Indian
+burying ground on his island.</p>
+
+<p>“We greeted him joyously and his reply was a
+characteristic ‘Huh,’ but he left out his usual
+‘Huh, papooses.’</p>
+
+<p>“The stranger, carefully, with a hand on the
+pier, I noted, thinking how awkwardly he got out
+of a canoe, stood and stiffly bowed to Alix, saying,
+‘Is this Miss Alix Craighead whom I am addressing?’</p>
+
+<p>“My sister made a little bow and the stranger
+continued his accent marking his nativity as Scotch,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>‘McFarlane, Miss Craighead. I would speak with
+you and Mr. Hallowed. I come from your mother
+in Glasgow.’</p>
+
+<p>“I was awestruck with his solemnity. Alix,
+deathly pale, with a finer sensibility or as she told
+me later, a premonition of evil things, asked me to
+run up to the barn and bring Mr. Hallowed to the
+library. Before I left the pier, I saw the stranger
+take a large sealed envelope from an inner pocket
+of his coat, heard Alix ask Beaver to stay for dinner,
+heard his short ‘No,’ as he pushed back with his
+paddle, shooting his canoe out into the stream, and
+when I looked back, Alix, with bosom rising and
+falling as though in great excitement, was holding
+the letter out in both hands evidently reading it.</p>
+
+<p>“I found Hallowed dining with the men in the
+room west of the kitchen, and took him to the
+library. Alix and Mr. McFarlane were just entering
+the house, she dry-eyed but sad. Hallowed
+asked me to go back to where the men were, get
+Keith and help him take some horses back to a
+remote pasture. Pride in being of assistance on the
+farm, fatigue after the exertion of riding a mile
+and leading a horse sent me willingly to bed after
+an explanation from Hallowed who met me at the
+upstairs door, that Alix was asleep, the stranger
+fatigued, consequently it was not until next morning
+that I received my shock.</p>
+
+<p>“An unusual thing, Alix bringing my breakfast
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>on a tray. While I breakfasted, she laid out my
+best wearing apparel and stacked a full wardrobe
+on my bed. I asked if the Scotchman was royalty
+before whom I had to dress up, and she answered
+evasively.</p>
+
+<p>“When I was ready to go out and not until then
+did she tell me.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Our father has fallen from a horse and was
+seriously injured.’</p>
+
+<p>“I felt no shock. Had I not seen a man’s leg
+broken when a tree fell on him? He was working
+as usual today.</p>
+
+<p>“After a pause Alix said, ‘Father has passed
+away.’</p>
+
+<p>“The grief of a child is poignant. Stunned,
+scarcely comprehending, mine was twofold. The
+thought that I should never see father again and
+the pity I had for Alix, who at last gave full sway
+to evidences of the pangs of a stronger nature than
+mine, up to that time suppressed, made me most
+miserable. But the little lady who had, since my
+parents went away, assumed the role of mother
+protector to her younger brother, soon dried her
+tears and mine, saying that we still had mother and
+must hurry to her. That was the reason for the
+coming of McFarlane. We were to travel with him
+to Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>“In the early morning of life, nature is more
+kind to her children than during the midday or the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>afternoon; in an hour my mind was full of our
+imminent departure from the only home I had ever
+known and my heart was aflutter with the excitement
+of the adventure.</p>
+
+<p>“We left Craighead Hall before noon. Hallowed
+and his first assistant foreman, Keith, rowed
+us over to Verde Island, old Big Beaver made a
+silent sixth; as we anticipated bringing mother
+back right away we proposed leaving a boat on the
+island.</p>
+
+<p>“There is a mile of swamp back of the island,
+under water in the spring, but then dry. At the
+first house, that of a Mr. Murray, standing where
+the mainland is reached, where Mr. McFarlane
+had left a carriage seating six, we had luncheon.</p>
+
+<p>“I remember thinking about McFarlane’s extravagance,
+keeping a man and a team a whole day.
+The man surely was a sport for a Scotchman, and
+I began to admire him.</p>
+
+<p>“Hallowed was quite a talented man who had
+served grandfather before accompanying father
+across the ocean. I respected him, obeyed his instructions
+always. I knew that he was in father’s
+confidence, held almost as an equal, yet when he
+lifted Alix in his arms, held her close for a moment
+and kissed her, I was shocked. He turned to me,
+placing a hand on each of my shoulders, giving me
+a gentle shake saying, ‘Hugh Craighead, ye are
+head of the Craighead clan now. Show by being a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>man that ye be worthy the honor,’ and turned away,
+tears glistening on his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>“I never saw the faithful old retainer again. He
+died before we returned to the Hall. His body lies
+over there on the burnt hill, where if he ever visits
+his grave he may overlook the demesne in which he
+had as much pride as the owner.</p>
+
+<p>“We drove over dubious roads for hours. It was
+dark when we reached the railroad station. I had
+never consciously seen a railroad; was a baby when
+brought across the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>“Alix stood firm and calm with a hand on
+McFarlane’s arm as a great shaft of light swept
+the station platform on which we stood, while I
+cowered back against the station wall, terrified as
+the fearsome thing with a grinding noise, a great
+clanking of iron and hissing of steam passed us and
+the long line of coaches came to a stop. The thing
+seemed in pain, or in a fury; it breathed, to that
+boy of the backwoods, just like a monstrous animal,
+annoyed at being stopped in its mad journey
+through the night.</p>
+
+<p>“I was still trying to get a good look at the mastodon
+as Alix, pulling me by the hand, mounted to
+the third car, following on the heels of McFarlane.
+Then we walked back inside to the rear coach.</p>
+
+<p>“How trivialities fasten themselves in the young
+mind! I was worried, I recollect, that two strange
+boys, not much taller than I, should pick up our
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>treasured bags and those of Mr. McFarlane and
+run down the station platform. I called to McFarlane
+to stop them, but he laughed, saying,</p>
+
+<p>“‘It’s all richt, come along,’ and there were the
+bags and the two boys when we took our seats. It
+staggered me to see McFarlane pass a glittering
+shilling to each of the boys; profligate, I thought.”</p>
+
+<p>“Truants! At last I have found you,” came
+cheerful, bell-like, Elaine’s voice through the
+fringe of cedars to the left of the landing.</p>
+
+<p>A particularly vicious-looking bloodhound
+bounded in the open onto the sand, followed by the
+young lady, holding a leash.</p>
+
+<p>“Luncheon is over-ready, gentlemen,” and she
+pulled the beast back from my uncomfortable heel
+which seemed to interest him inordinately and
+laughed into my eyes as she said,</p>
+
+<p>“Now you cannot get away, Mr. Montrose. Lucifer
+has your picture, your measure,” and then addressing
+her brother, “Hughie, a messenger from
+the village has been waiting an hour with a letter
+which he would not entrust even to me.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh hurried up the avenue while Elaine and
+I walked over toward the larger roadway, she saying
+that we must take Lucifer back to his mates.</p>
+
+<p>“Has each dog a name?” I asked, looking at the
+powerful brute walking ahead of us.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” Elaine answered, laughingly, “Some of
+them two. The pack leader is Julius Caesar, not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>turned to clay, I assure you, though I think he
+would keep almost anything away should it see him
+first.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he a reincarnation?” I joked.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently seriously, she said, “Yes, dogs, like
+all other things, are born and reborn, just like
+humans, but always in their own line of vibration.”</p>
+
+<p>“So you think that this Julius Caesar, this dog,
+may be a reincarnation of the great Caesar?” I
+asked lightly, unable to determine whether or not
+she was serious.</p>
+
+<p>“Stupid! Of course not,” she shot back. “Dogs
+come back as dogs, birds as birds and man always
+as man. But the Caesar who conquered the world
+had lived many lives and crossed many Rubicons
+before he sent that historic message to Rome. Consider
+what a man he was—even if we don’t quite
+approve of him. Isn’t reincarnation the only logical
+explanation of such a product?”</p>
+
+<p>“Some day, Miss Elaine,” I ventured, “I would
+like to have you explain your theory of evolution
+as applied to the human soul. I am in earnest,” I
+added, as she gave me a quizzical glance. “The
+idea of the creation of the body from the earth and
+the breathing into it of life by the Omnipotent has
+always been accepted and I have not reasoned
+further.”</p>
+
+<p>Elaine gave me such a serio-comic pitying look,
+laughingly adding, “You dear old innocent. Once I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>thought too that we came ready-made from the
+hands of a Creator, mind and soul and body, but—”
+and she hesitated, “some day you shall have the
+evidence that man as he wills creates himself. I
+wish for Hugh’s sake and my own that we could
+confide in you. You would then at least understand
+matters better.”</p>
+
+<p>Her face had become serious, even sorrowful-looking
+as she talked and I was glad that Hugh interrupted
+just then.</p>
+
+<p>He came out the garden way as we approached
+the kennels and announced that he must go at once
+to the village and might be gone several days. As
+the carriage drove up, he kissed his sister, then
+turned to me and while holding my hand, said,
+“My friend, I am going to ask you to look after my
+little sister during my absence.”</p>
+
+<p>I ascended right then to the seventh heaven.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="T">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">T</span>HE RIVER was a sheet of glass
+that afternoon. Elaine suggested
+that we take the punt, a broad flat-bottomed,
+square-ended boat, and
+go out and spear garfish, schools of
+which were sunning their backs
+above water. She was quick and accurate in handling
+the three-tined spear and pulled in two for
+my one. The camaraderie engendered in this hour
+of sport, “ridding the river of a pest,” as Elaine
+put it, completely broke down the timidity which
+I must confess possessed me while with Elaine,
+ever since that first episode while dining with
+Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>It was about three o’clock and we were working
+fast when a bell atop a barn on the hill back of the
+house, but in plain view to us, began to ring vociferously.
+Elaine in the front of the boat, spear held
+crosswise in both hands, turned facing me, a strange
+look of fear or horror pictured in her great brown
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Another unfortunate,” she said as though
+speaking to herself, “and Hugh is away.” Quickly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>she put out the oars, motioning me back as I stepped
+forward to take them from her. I asked her what
+the bell meant, but she made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>I perforce merely steered the boat, while I
+watched the group of buildings, expecting to see a
+fire break out. Not until we were on the pier did
+Elaine vouchsafe a word, then she said, “You must
+help me with the dogs,” as we went breathlessly up
+through the house and orchard back walk to the
+dog kennels, a low stone building in a picket fence
+enclosure.</p>
+
+<p>A man with a great shock of snow-white hair and
+a young face touched his forehead and said, “Haig,
+Miss; he has been uneasy for a week,” then he
+picked up a leather boot, adding, “We changed his
+boots, Miss, since Mr. Hugh noticed his nervousness.”</p>
+
+<p>Two hounds giving evidence of having just
+abandoned their dinner came lounging forward.
+Elaine placed two fingers in her mouth and gave a
+shrill whistle, a duplicate of her brother’s signal
+when I first made the acquaintance of the pack, and
+every beast was at the fence in a jiffy.</p>
+
+<p>The white-haired man now snapped a leash onto
+the collar of the wickedest-looking of the animals,
+handed the braided strap to Elaine and surrounded
+by the dogs we went toward the wood.</p>
+
+<p>“Haig was disking in the firewood field, Miss.
+We think he took to the swamp; has been gone
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>hours probably. We missed him only after lunch-hour
+and did not wish to disturb you knowing that
+the master was away.”</p>
+
+<p>“You should have notified me at once,” Elaine
+answered, “The poor fellow is not in good health.”</p>
+
+<p>The gray-haired man left us. We soon reached
+the plow from which the horses had been turned
+loose. The half-mile walk was passed in silence except
+that Elaine talked constantly to the brutes as
+they crowded about her, whimpering replies
+strangely, seemingly comprehendingly.</p>
+
+<p>The long boot brought by the man was investigated,
+I believe, by every dog and they then spread
+out, circling over the field nearby, silently for a
+moment, then one gave vent to a prolonged howl,
+a most dismal sound, and headed off toward the
+woods on the east; the other dogs in turn found the
+scent, each giving his lugubrious signal and then
+running in silence.</p>
+
+<p>As two men on horseback came in sight over a
+rise of ground, Elaine pointed to the pack and the
+men spurred toward the swamp woods, making a
+short cut.</p>
+
+<p>As we walked back toward the house, Elaine explained
+that she and her brother entertained about
+forty “guests,” liberated from Canadian and
+American prisons, that they were constantly coming
+and going, but they all came “on condition that they
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>should stay at the Hall until Hugh gave them
+permission to go.”</p>
+
+<p>He found places for them in occupations suited
+to their condition. Some stayed permanently, working
+at farming, keeping accounts, or doing such
+work as best fitted them for the world outside.
+Most of those liberated through Hugh’s efforts
+were educated men, proven innocent of the crimes
+for which they were incarcerated or carrying unreasonably
+long sentences, all alike robbed of spirit
+through prison discipline.</p>
+
+<p>“Haig’s case?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Hugh will tell you all about it,” she evaded.</p>
+
+<p>Regulations were that each might choose his
+work and change it if it proved unsuitable. They
+were all silent men, good listeners, tractable, helpful
+to each other, timid for a time, always respectful
+to Hugh, herself, and the supervisors, who
+were all life-termers, who chose to remain permanently
+at the Hall.</p>
+
+<p>The white-haired man and the two house men
+whom I had seen were rescued from life imprisonment
+through Hugh’s efforts.</p>
+
+<p>“Was she afraid of her guests?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, only sorry for them. She wished to help
+Hugh whose ambition was to make of this work a
+national institution on a big scale.”</p>
+
+<p>The case of the runaway was unfortunate inasmuch
+as his home was in the village which he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>doubtless would attempt to reach—and he had not
+yet recovered from “prison poisoning” as Elaine
+put it.</p>
+
+<p>After six o’clock and no word from the runaway;
+Elaine had excused herself. I selected a book from
+the library and then wandered down to the river;
+the sun was behind the big hill to the west when I
+returned to the house, found that the searchers
+were still out, but that the dogs had lost the scent;
+repaired to my room to find my bags awaiting me,
+bathed, debated, then city habit winning, donned
+dinner clothes and returned to the library.</p>
+
+<p>“Miss Craighead is resting,” the “guest”-waiter
+explained; “would I prefer to wait, would I dine
+at the usual hour or await her pleasure?”</p>
+
+<p>“I would prefer to wait,” I replied.</p>
+
+<p>Though now that the sun was down, the fresh
+Canadian autumn air with a tang and the unusual
+exercise of the afternoon had aroused in me a splendid
+appetite, I would have risked starving rather
+than forego the pleasure of a tête-à-tête dinner
+with this interesting personality.</p>
+
+<p>I wandered out into the orchard, my thoughts
+drawing me to the tree of the morning’s adventure.
+The “twelve baskets” were not there, but I had no
+difficulty in finding what I wished, an apple to eat.</p>
+
+<p>I dined late, and alone; it must have been at
+least nine o’clock. Elaine offered no excuse through
+the servant.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>“She must be asleep,” I reasoned. I retired about
+midnight, ill at ease and not a little disappointed at
+the ending of a day that had begun so pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Montrose!”</p>
+
+<p>Was I dreaming? were my last thoughts on losing
+consciousness, a silvery voice from the branches
+of the apple tree, carrying me through the mystery
+period called sleep?</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Montrose!”</p>
+
+<p>I was awake now, and sprang from my bed, calling
+excitedly, “What’s wrong, what is it?” as I
+sensed anxiety or some great change in the voice of
+Elaine calling from the hallway.</p>
+
+<p>“Please dress quickly and warmly; I have found
+the runaway. He will die before morning unless we
+can get to him. I shall be in the hall downstairs or
+at the pier.”</p>
+
+<p>I dressed quickly and as I started downstairs,
+Elaine called, “Please get Stanton from the west
+corner room. I’ll be down in a minute.”</p>
+
+<p>I confess feeling panicky as I rushed through
+the upper hall, dark as a pocket, knocked, then
+without awaiting a reply, entered, to find that
+Stanton was the young-faced gray-haired man who
+had started the hunt for Haig.</p>
+
+<p>The man was ready to go almost before I could
+get out of the room and joined me at the foot of
+the stairway, just as Elaine came down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>She was clad as in the morning, but wore a
+short coat of deerskin and a close-fitting deerskin
+cap. The straight brown line of the cap crossing
+her forehead probably accentuated her paleness,
+certainly the hours of “rest” had worked on her
+sad havoc as she looked more like a spectre than the
+reality of the girl of the evening. She spoke nervously,
+authoritatively,</p>
+
+<p>“Stanton, Haig is in the old Blank house beyond
+the swamp. He needs help—pneumonia perhaps;
+bring a couple of blankets. Mr. Montrose, will you
+put on an overcoat, a sweater, that will be better,
+you will have to work. I’ll bring Hugh’s. Get the
+big canoe out,” and she ran swiftly upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>I followed, picked up my topcoat, for the night
+was chilly, and got back to the front door to see
+Elaine flying down the pathway to the landing.</p>
+
+<p>Stanton was launching a good-sized canoe, wide
+of beam, beautifully shaped from a pine tree log,
+and remarked, just as I arrived, “It will hold four,
+but why should you go, Miss. Mr. Montrose and
+I can look after him.”</p>
+
+<p>Elaine’s answer was to stoop and seize the roll
+of blankets, throw them into the bow of the canoe,
+and seat herself upon them, turning up the collar
+of her coat, as she faced the two of us, I on the
+center thwart and Stanton steering.</p>
+
+<p>As we paddled eastward in silence, my mind, I
+must say, was not on the case of Haig. A delicate
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>white throat peeping out between the upturned
+lapels of leather; the fair, wan face above it, the
+graceful outline of the girl as she half reclined in
+the narrow prow of the canoe, were of much greater
+interest than was the welfare of the fleeing ex-convict
+at two o’clock in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>I handled a paddle well, thanks to my early love
+of the open water and a light canoe. While the fast
+little craft cut through the water in the darkness,
+my mind was busy—almost to the asking point. I
+wondered how Elaine knew about the hiding place
+of Haig.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, after proceeding a long distance
+straight east as I judged the direction on swinging
+out from the pier, we veered to the left a little and
+proceeding a half-mile or so, turned sharply into
+a channel with great-limbed water-killed trees on
+either side, at first dimly outlined, then more close
+to us. How far we came I could not even guess.
+The silent night, the sombre surroundings, the
+gentle dip, dip of the paddles; the strange girl,
+seemingly asleep, but only seemingly, and I
+thought with the purpose of avoiding conversation,
+had their effect on my nerves.</p>
+
+<p>I was relieved to hear Stanton say, “We must go
+slowly here or I shall miss the channel and come
+to grief,” a long speech for a Craighead Hall
+“guest.”</p>
+
+<p>The canoe came almost to a standstill, then
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>moved sharply to the left at a paddle stroke by
+Stanton, gliding gently among the dead trees
+whose limbs seemed to reach out like living tentacles
+of the octopus, in an attempt to enfold us. Into
+the living woods, ash and willow, through lily pads
+in clusters, an almost imperceptible path in a field
+of wild rice and rushes.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh’s description of his boyhood adventure at
+Blank’s house came vividly before me as we pushed
+the canoe alongside the remnants of a crude landing
+pier. It was a pier only in semblance. Ice had loosened
+boards which time and neglect had reduced
+almost to nothingness. There were gaps and rotted
+planks; Mirza’s bridge at Bagdad was not more
+hazardous, but Elaine lightly sprang over the open
+places until she reached more solid footing on logs
+laid lengthwise. Even they were precarious as they
+also had yielded to time and the elements.</p>
+
+<p>I followed more carefully, but in the dark made
+one mistake which left me with a leg to the thigh
+dripping with water and black ooze from a spot
+that looked solid.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine waited for us, ’twas just a moment, and
+we proceeded through a tangle for a seemingly interminable
+distance. How foolish of us to have forgotten
+to bring a lantern or candle even. I had
+matches, and used a few before we came to the bottom
+of a garden in a small clearing. Even the garden
+was a labyrinth difficult of threading. All sorts
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>of vines seemed to reach up to trip us and weeds
+abounded.</p>
+
+<p>We stood before a log house, one story high with
+two small-paned windows, a door between. I could
+see the outlines of a barn or shed to the left.</p>
+
+<p>I tried the door, Stanton standing back as though
+awaiting orders, while Elaine still held the roll of
+blankets that she had elected to carry, notwithstanding
+my protest. The door withstanding all my efforts,
+refused to open; there was something more
+substantial than a lock holding it, I felt.</p>
+
+<p>At Elaine’s suggestion, I tried the window on the
+right without avail. Stanton, better riverman than
+I, had carried his paddle to help his balance on the
+pier and logs. This he inserted under the window
+frame, which raised.</p>
+
+<p>He threw up the window and called, “Haig!”</p>
+
+<p>No reply.</p>
+
+<p>“He is in there,” Elaine said, and looked at me.</p>
+
+<p>Stanton was holding up the lower frame of the
+window. I am not a coward, but I certainly had no
+relish for what was evidently my task. But had I
+known that the place was full of serpents, I would
+not have hesitated in her presence.</p>
+
+<p>I crawled awkwardly through the opening which
+was almost breast-high from the ground. Inside,
+I listened intently just a moment, then touching the
+wall with both hands, moved to the right, until I
+found the door, felt a heavy bar across, lifted one
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>end until it swung upright on a hinge and from the
+sound, snapped into a holder. I could see nothing.
+The darkness was inky.</p>
+
+<p>Stanton was trying to and finally did force the
+lock, and it was a relief to find him beside me, endeavoring
+to strike a match.</p>
+
+<p>What is there in a human habitation, long deserted,
+which brings a chill to the spine when entered
+at the darkest hour of night? Is it a rendezvous
+for the baser spirits of the departed, the outcasts
+from the civilization of the tomorrow?</p>
+
+<p>Certainly as I stood awaiting the forcing of the
+door, I could feel the foul things all about; could
+even hear them. I was not afraid, merely palsied
+with horror, quivering.</p>
+
+<p>“Bats,” Stanton said. “Please stay outside, out of
+the doorway, Miss, they will strike you,” he called
+to Elaine as his match flared up for a second, then
+went out, intensifying the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>Stanton again called. Silence, except for that indescribable
+sough produced by the wings of flying
+bats. Another match, two this time, and Stanton
+opened the nearest door in the west half partition.
+I had found my matches and before his expired
+was beside him with a fresh light. There was not
+an article of furniture in the room, but huddled in
+the far corner, in a half lying, half sitting posture,
+was Haig, a white-faced frail-looking lad, not long
+out of his teens apparently. Seemingly the spark of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>life had left him, he was so still. Elaine was on her
+knees, beside him, feeling through his wet clothes
+for heart-beats.</p>
+
+<p>“He is alive, barely alive,” she exclaimed, excitedly.
+“Make a fire of something. He will not live
+until we get him home and Hughie would never
+forgive me.”</p>
+
+<p>I wrapped one of the blankets about him, cursing
+myself for not bringing either a light or a stimulant;
+carried him out and rubbed his body vigorously
+while Stanton tore a cupboard from a corner
+of the larger room and soon had a fire going outside.</p>
+
+<p>The second blanket was warmed and replaced
+the first. As I worked over him, I wondered what
+crime this delicate boy could have committed which
+would harden the hearts of a jury of men to the
+extent of condemning so innocent-looking a youth
+to a living death in prison. I must ask Hugh about
+it.</p>
+
+<p>He opened his eyes and tried to speak. Elaine,
+who was close beside him, placed her little white
+hand over his lips and said, just as a mother would,
+“Now don’t speak. Just shut your eyes and rest.
+We shall take you home.”</p>
+
+<p>After Haig’s clothing was dry, at least thoroughly
+heated, we wrapped him in the two blankets,
+both hot, and Stanton carried him over the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>hazardous places alone, while I helped when I
+could.</p>
+
+<p>We found our way out to the open river just
+before dawn. It was bitterly cold on the water.
+Elaine wore my topcoat. When I helped her into
+it, she was tremulous, almost hysterical, now that
+the anxiety was over.</p>
+
+<p>I reached the conclusion, as I tucked the ample
+folds of the coat about her, as she sat in the bottom
+of the canoe near the bow, that here was a wonderful
+thing, a girl, a woman, such as I had never
+thought existed. I wanted to take her in my arms
+and tell her—much.</p>
+
+<p>Instead, I placed Haig’s head in her lap, at her
+demand, stretched his body back with feet under
+my seat amidship, and with Stanton paddled back
+the long four-mile detour to Craighead Hall.</p>
+
+<p>Tucked into Stanton’s bed, with a drink of
+brandy, hot water bottles about him, I left Haig
+and sought my room. I did not retire then; broad
+daylight found me pacing the floor, filled with unease,
+doubt, fear, yet with a longing unfathomable.
+I had come searching for a man astray, and had
+lost myself. What would be the sequel?</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="T">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">T</span>HE SUN was pretty well down over
+the west when I found Elaine
+in the great hall. I had slept
+through the day. She had ordered
+dinner in the library, and was
+awaiting me. “How did you know
+I should be ready at this time?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh,” she replied, “The walls of this house
+have ears. You needed a good sleep after last
+night. I feel greatly indebted to you. Our boy is
+doing splendidly.”</p>
+
+<p>What hope for a man who wishes to say something
+when a woman wills that he must not? Here
+was the woman, the lady hostess, not the approachable
+girl of the canoe voyage, and I learned a lesson
+in restraint, found myself drawn away from
+any encroachment on the personal; intensely interested
+in a rare quality of mind, beautifully, absorbingly
+unfolded. Yes, the evening was one of agony
+and I retired uncertain of myself, baffled, convinced
+that no thought of me other than as the brother’s
+friend and her guest during his absence had ever
+occurred to her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>Next day we were seated on opposite sides of a
+luncheon table on the upper veranda. The sun was
+bright. I was about to pull down the Venetian curtain,
+when Hugh, a Chinaman at his heels, bounded
+up the east stairway. After greeting his sister with
+an embrace and me with a handshake, Hugh said,</p>
+
+<p>“This is Fong Wing, who will hereafter make
+his home with us. He was legally free yesterday
+morning, but I gave him time to buy an outfit;
+Elaine, he is yours, the best lady’s maid in Canada.
+The warden’s family wished him to stay; though
+he has nominally been in prison for five years, during
+most of the time he has served as a maid in
+the family of the warden. They became much attached
+to Fong.”</p>
+
+<p>Turning to the Chinaman, Hugh said, “Fong,
+this is your new mistress, Miss Elaine. Guard her
+as you would your life, and obey her; and this is
+my friend, Mr. Montrose.”</p>
+
+<p>What is the age of a Chinaman after he has seen
+forty or fifty years? The queue was missing; shorn
+clean, his bullet head sported a million bristles
+sticking straight out. His round satin cap was in
+his hand. He bowed to me, looked with lamblike
+eyes into the face of Elaine, knelt, took her right
+hand and placing it on his bristly pate, said,</p>
+
+<p>“Missie catch one good China boy; good cook;
+good hair dresser, make good music,” arose and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>held a chair that Elaine might resume her seat at
+the table.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh took Fong along presumably to show him
+his quarters and shortly after joined us, laughingly
+saying, “At last, sister, we have one cheerful,
+talkative guest in this house of silent men. Fong is
+a talker. I would stake my life on his faithfulness.
+His parting with the warden’s three young lady
+daughters was comically pathetic.”</p>
+
+<p>“What was his crime?”</p>
+
+<p>“He was given twenty years for using a hatchet
+promiscuously on a member of a rival tong and
+glad to get out. Regards me as his benefactor and
+feels that for fifteen years I shall own him, body
+and soul.”</p>
+
+<p>Recital of the attempt of Haig to escape and details
+of the rescue seemed to sober Hugh who was
+in high spirits. I hoped he would ask Elaine how
+she knew that the runaway was at the Blank place,
+but when she mentioned that we had gone there at
+her request, Hugh’s eyes only took on a saddened
+expression as he turned them toward those of his
+sister.</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose, I shall tell you Haig’s story some
+day,” Hugh said.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine, who had been turning the leaves of a
+fashion magazine which Hugh had brought, started
+up, saying, “I must see what they’re going to wear
+this winter. Where did you put Fong?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>“In the green room, but you need not leave us.
+No secrets between Mr. Montrose and me that you
+may not hear,” Hugh replied.</p>
+
+<p>Her answer was a pat on his hand, and surprise
+of surprises, a glance at me more frank and friendly
+than she had vouchsafed during Hugh’s absence.</p>
+
+<p>We were smoking and looking out over the river,
+calm and beautiful and for a time both were silent,
+then Hugh said, “I am very glad that you saved
+Haig, Montrose. Had he gotten to his old home,
+he would have spoiled my plans. I have a fine place
+for him as soon as he regains his poise. The boy was
+innocent of any crime, the greatest piece of injustice
+and cruelty that I ever came across in the many
+cases which I have investigated.</p>
+
+<p>“You must know that in the best-managed of
+villages, vice resorts cannot be kept out. Valleyford
+is a clean village, but it once harbored one such
+place, kept by a woman who supported an innocent
+daughter at a Toronto school through the use of
+her home by girls who plied a vicious trade, alluring
+young men of the village, and many older men,
+I am afraid, for gain.</p>
+
+<p>“During the summer holiday season, Haig, who
+was only seventeen, was celebrating with four older
+boys from college. They all took several drinks and
+finally repaired to this house on the suggestion of
+one of the boys that they go to see some girls.
+Unfortunately, the daughter had unexpectedly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>reached home that evening and met three nice appearing
+girl boarders and received the five boy
+callers, innocent of the evil calling of her companions,
+the mother being at the grocer’s. The obvious
+happened; the daughter was abused, warrants for
+the five were issued next day at the mother’s
+instance.</p>
+
+<p>“James Haig, on hearing of the warrant, walked
+into the sheriff’s office; his brother, nineteen, resisted
+arrest in Manitoba and was killed; another
+of the boys after wounding a policeman in Sarnia
+was shot and died before the other three were
+placed on trial. The trio was convicted and sentenced
+to twenty years in the penitentiary though
+the four girls, and all three boys testified that Jimmie
+Haig merely met the girls, had been so desperately
+ill that he lay out on the porch until supported
+home by his brother. This was his first experience
+with liquor.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh paused, added in an aside, “What a terrible
+curse is liquor. It has filled penitentiaries. I
+wish it could be abolished,” then resumed:</p>
+
+<p>“The crime is a serious one and is severely punished
+in Canada, but there were mitigating circumstances
+and I shall never rest until I have the other
+two boys under this roof. The stern old Scot who
+passed sentence on these youths seemed to take a
+vicious delight in disregarding a recommendation
+to mercy for James Haig, made by the equally stern
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>jury of farmers. The poor boy was in hell for five
+years as a punishment for taking a drink. None of
+the boys was vicious; they were only foolish.</p>
+
+<p>“I saw the mother of these two lost sons die of
+grief, followed soon after by the proud father
+whose spirit was broken by the disgrace and when
+six months ago after nearly three years’ effort, I
+brought Haig across the river here, a frail, broken
+young man, parents dead, home and inheritance
+lost, no spirit, I felt no elation; felt that there was
+scant justice in the world. This case as no other
+made me appreciate that truly ‘man’s inhumanity
+to man makes countless millions mourn.’</p>
+
+<p>“Think of this boy facing his schoolmates; while
+absolutely innocent of any crime he carries the
+prison stigma; people not fit to tie his shoe-laces
+will shun him as a jailbird. ‘Oh justice, how many
+crimes are committed in thy name!’”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh had arisen and walked the veranda in long
+strides; pity mingled with passion seemed to almost
+overpower him. I hastened to suggest that we go
+and cheer up the boy, adding, “and tonight I wish
+to discuss with you another subject.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon,” Hugh said, and I was pleased at the
+use of my Christian name, “I have got to tell you
+the whole story. Strange that we humans should
+find relief in sharing with others our worries,” and
+he put his arm over my shoulder as we went into
+the house.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>“Thank you, Hugh,” I replied, feeling my
+duplicity. I wished to discuss Elaine, not her
+strange malady. I had decided that I had found
+the only woman in the world beside whom I would
+be satisfied to walk through life and whatever her
+trouble might be, I wanted her. Forgotten her
+seizure, the fact that I knew so little of her, everything
+save that I longed to have the privilege of
+caring for her.</p>
+
+<p>A man whom I had noticed working about the
+boathouse intercepted us as we were in the upper
+hall, asking Hugh’s permission for the “guests”
+to try a night at spearing fish. Hugh readily assented
+and suggested that possibly I might like to
+take a hand in the sport, explaining that a flat-bottomed
+boat would be used; a “jack,” a sort of
+cradle fixed about four feet high from the boat’s
+bow, filled with pine knots, furnished the light, the
+spearmen stood forward and could easily see the
+fish through six feet of water.</p>
+
+<p>We reached Haig’s room and I marvelled at the
+man Craighead as he took the boy’s hand, chiding
+him as gently as though he were his son, though
+the difference in years as between the two was not
+great. I was taken into the conversation and gleaned
+much of interest regarding Hugh’s work.</p>
+
+<p>Later in the men’s dining room, I listened after
+introduction to at least twenty men ranging in age
+from possibly twenty-five to sixty, to Hugh’s interesting
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>talk to these “guests.” Inquiry as to work,
+how the fall plowing, the land clearing, road building,
+ditch digging and dairying were progressing.
+I thought what a splendid thing this salving of
+human souls was, what a wonderful thing, if all
+ex-convicts on regaining freedom could be taken
+to a retreat like this and kept until the prison pallor
+was replaced by sunburn, until the broken will was
+re-established and at least a measure of self-respect
+attained.</p>
+
+<p>No! Society had not yet awakened to the advantages
+of such humanitarianism. It remained for an
+individual fortunately provided with the means as
+well as the will to furnish a haven for these social
+outcasts who otherwise with poisoned minds and
+shrunken souls would slink back to the old haunts,
+re-enact their crime, or failing in vicious courage,
+live as best they could, the prey of every minion
+of the guardians of society; fortunate if permitted
+to remain at large, slinking through the world
+carrying always on face or in walk, the mark of
+Cain.</p>
+
+<p>We had watched the boat’s lights as the men
+went joyously out into the quiet river. I found that
+they talked and jested; the older “guests” seemingly
+endeavoring to draw out the later recruits in
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>I preferred to try my luck at the sport later on.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine, with a peculiar look at her brother, absent-minded,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>it appeared, had excused herself
+while Hugh and I were smoking over our coffee,
+before walking down to the landing. A slight chill
+was in the air.</p>
+
+<p>Ten o’clock found us in the library. Lying back
+on the pillows of a couch in the shadowy room,
+with hands clasped back of his head, Hugh said
+reminiscently.</p>
+
+<p>“McFarlane was a splendid fellow, seemed old
+to me at the time, though not more than thirty; on
+the train, the ship, he looked after our comfort;
+kept both Alix and myself much interested through
+his own curiosity and peculiar remarks on what he
+observed.</p>
+
+<p>“When greatly interested or excited, he lapsed
+into Scotch so broad that the words were almost
+unintelligible to me. Craighead affairs were not
+discussed, though I remember endeavoring to learn
+something about my forebears.</p>
+
+<p>“When we reached Glasgow, it was night. We
+were bundled into a four-wheeled carriage, McFarlane
+giving the driver directions, and I caught
+the name Hill Head, a name which I had heard
+father and John Hallowed mention occasionally.
+It rained slightly, and the air seemed hollow. I can
+even now distinctly hear the hoofbeats of the
+horses as we crossed the wooden bridge over the
+little Kelvin River separating the city from Hill
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>Head borough, also McFarlane’s voice saying, ‘We
+are a’most there the noo.’</p>
+
+<p>“My nerves were tense as we drove through a
+gateway with stone pillars in a high brick wall hiding
+from our view a great square three-story building
+until we were right upon it. The house was
+dark, except for a glimmer through diamond-shaped
+panes of glass, on each side a massive door
+opening onto a stone-paved terrace.</p>
+
+<p>“We alighted and waited until McFarlane spoke
+to our coachman, then walked across the stone flagging
+to the door which a dour-faced man was holding
+open.</p>
+
+<p>“As we children entered, a sad-eyed, middle-aged
+woman in nurse’s attire looked at us sharply
+and said, ‘Puir bairnies, puir bairnies, and the
+mither buried this day week.’</p>
+
+<p>“Alix screamed.</p>
+
+<p>“‘What do you mean?’ McFarlane exclaimed,
+‘Dead? Mrs. Craighead dead?’</p>
+
+<p>“And the woman said, ‘Dead, aye, dead puir
+thing, gang awa’ hame to her mon when the wee
+ane came.’</p>
+
+<p>“I lost consciousness; with the exhaustion of
+hurried travel, seasickness, the terrible shock of
+hearing that my sainted mother was no more;
+what could be expected?</p>
+
+<p>“When I recovered my senses after a night’s
+rest, the first thing that greeted me was Alix, swollen-eyed,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>holding close to her face a wee baby in a
+knitted white something.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh paused, a look indescribable came into his
+eyes raised to mine and he said, “Gordon, this was
+Elaine, thus named in compliance with mother’s
+expressed wish. Elaine, the finest, bravest little
+comforter that God ever gave to a brother. I resented
+at that time the ‘will of God’ as the nurse
+put it in saying that mother gave her life that this
+little thing might live, but from the day that her
+little fingers grasped mine, to this hour, I have had
+no love for any creature on earth approaching my
+love for my little sister.</p>
+
+<p>“McFarlane took entire charge of the little family
+of three. We had plenty of money on which to
+live nicely and travel; always McFarlane, Alix,
+baby, and nurse and myself.</p>
+
+<p>“We stayed in the great gloomy house for
+months, then went to southern France. I was out of
+school for a year, sickly. Finally we took a small
+residence in Edinburgh where I attended school.</p>
+
+<p>“During all the years until I was twenty-one and
+had my A. B. degree, McFarlane evaded my every
+question as to my family history. He had had himself
+appointed our legal guardian and had mapped
+out my career. I was to be a lawyer, as we call it.</p>
+
+<p>“I had now reached man’s estate, a citizen of the
+City of Edinburgh, studious, a dreamer rather than
+a doer, my mind always painting pictures of the old
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>place, reverting frequently to John Blank and I
+had always determined that I should come back
+when Elaine grew up.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine was a bright youngster, ‘muckle tae
+bricht,’ old nurse would say. Though frail in appearance,
+she had wonderful vitality, was a good
+student, her mind as she came into her teens running
+to the queer things in literature and history.
+She studied especially the old Bible, the edition
+with the apocrypha, the fourteen books of the Septuagint
+and the Vulgate, added to the Hebrew
+scriptures, the net result being avoidance of
+churches and preaching, a most awful thing to McFarlane
+and to the local dominie, who assured
+Alix, the little mother of the household, that the
+‘girlie was headed straicht for Hell.’</p>
+
+<p>“Alix was a splendid woman, with many friends,
+but McFarlane’s business interviews with her were
+so frequent that all suitors were discouraged. The
+course of our lives ran smoothly and we were very
+happy together.</p>
+
+<p>“One day, McFarlane on returning from a two-hour
+business engagement with Alix, as he explained
+it, asked me to accompany him to Glasgow
+that I might sign some papers connected with my
+father’s estate.</p>
+
+<p>“Arrived at the gloomy city, dreading a visit to
+the ugly house of my forefathers, I was surprised
+and pleased when we alighted at a clean, bright-looking
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>hotel where we shared a room, repairing
+next morning to the city hall, where I signed, McFarlane
+signed, a clerk witnessed, another official
+signed and put a great blue seal with ribbons on a
+number of papers.</p>
+
+<p>“To another room, where a more important, if
+possible, personage than the blue seal handler, critically
+examined every paper presented; I remember
+feeling an anxiety equalling that of examination
+day when my coveted A. B. was in the balance and
+was greatly relieved when the judge finally affixed
+his signature to one of the documents, shoved all of
+them over to a clerk at a desk on a lower level and
+told McFarlane, ‘You have been a good steward,
+sir,’ and looking keenly at me, added, ‘and this is
+the young man, and no blood of his, who has circumvented
+the iron will of old Alexander Craighead;
+the old man will turn in his grave tonight.’</p>
+
+<p>“I almost ran from the building, urging McFarlane
+for an explanation of the judge’s remarks.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Naething, naething at a’; the auld judge is
+garrulous,’ was all I could elicit.</p>
+
+<p>“It never occurred to me to read what I was
+signing, but when in our hotel room, McFarlane
+spread before me what he explained was a power
+of attorney, giving him authority to handle my
+affairs until I should revoke it; I read the document
+carefully and knowing nothing of business, balked
+at signing. Finally I signed, after McFarlane produced
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>a document of similar import bearing Alix’s
+signature and I returned to Edinburgh alone, the
+master of a property about which I knew nothing,
+nor did I care, as life went along as before.</p>
+
+<p>“I took my post-graduate course, graduated at
+law, spent six months traveling in Europe and yet
+I had no idea as to the extent of my inheritance.
+You may think, friend Montrose, that for a man
+holding a Master’s degree I was a dullard; the fact
+is, Alix mothered me, managed, I thought, all business
+matters, though it was really McFarlane’s
+steady head that did everything needful.</p>
+
+<p>“I was twenty-four; my time was almost wholly
+devoted to study. We always called our friend ‘Mr.
+McFarlane,’ though once I overheard Alix use his
+Christian name, saying,</p>
+
+<p>“‘No, James, time enough when we must tell
+him.’</p>
+
+<p>“I sensed an understanding between my elder
+sister and McFarlane, even surmised that they
+might marry, thought the secret they were keeping
+from me was an engagement, as they were much
+together when McFarlane was not away in Glasgow.</p>
+
+<p>“Alix did not wish me to return to Canada, but
+while in Europe, I planned a visit to Craighead
+Hall before taking a place in a law office secured
+through our faithful friend’s influence.</p>
+
+<p>“Faithful old John Hallowed’s letters and accounts
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>had all through the years kept us in touch
+with the old place.</p>
+
+<p>“Strange that Elaine, who had never seen this
+old mansion should have developed a greater interest
+in it than either Alix or I retained. She knew
+how many acres had been cleared, all about the enlargement
+of the orchard and the wonderful success
+of the fruit grafting. We talked over every item in
+Hallowed’s reports, otherwise I fear my interest
+might have flagged.</p>
+
+<p>“John Blank had become almost a myth. One
+day I was crossing from Calais to Dover, homeward
+bound after seeing the world; sitting in one of the
+uncomfortable chairs on deck I found myself looking
+at the profile of an old lady—the young ones
+failed to interest me even then.</p>
+
+<p>“Something in the half face before me carried
+me back to a deft blue room and the block house
+down the back channel and the woman who dressed
+me, whom John Blank called Margie. Ridiculous,
+I thought. This plainly but handsomely gowned
+lady could not be the roughly dressed woman of
+the long ago. I walked past her and inspection only
+tended to confirm my first thought.</p>
+
+<p>“My interest was such that it attracted her attention
+and fearing that my actions would justly lay
+me under a charge of rudeness, at least, I stepped
+up to her, bowed and said, ‘Madam, pardon me,
+are you not Mrs. Blank from Canada?’</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>“She paled, appeared annoyed, rather seemed
+startled, then after hesitating while we looked at
+each other, eye to eye, said, ‘No, young man, I am
+not Mrs. Blank of Canada,’ arose and disappeared
+in the boat’s interior.</p>
+
+<p>“I stammered an apology wholly lost on her.</p>
+
+<p>“Going directly to London I was surprised but
+delighted to meet McFarlane at the hotel. He said
+Alix had informed him of the probable date of my
+arrival there and as we were talking in the lounge
+even before I had been assigned a room, two men
+whom I would have sworn were Scotland Yard
+operatives appeared and he excused himself saying
+they were friends with whom he wished to discuss
+some private matters.</p>
+
+<p>“At dinner that night I mentioned the episode on
+the boat. When the name Mrs. Blank was mentioned,
+McFarlane started, almost leaving his chair
+and had me repeat the exact language used by the
+lady and myself. I inquired as to his interest. He
+had calmed, said it merely related to my oft repeated
+story of my adventure in the home of the
+deformed man and changed the subject, informing
+me that he had to meet an old friend and was
+already a little late.</p>
+
+<p>“I finished dinner alone, thinking that the canny
+Scot was not very cordial, considering our extended
+separation.</p>
+
+<p>“Next day, McFarlane pleaded a bit of urgent
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>business; we were to have returned together to
+Edinburgh. He had to stay in London. I could not
+wait, must see my sisters, so I traveled alone. What
+joy in that reunion! Alix was even more beautiful
+than when I had left home. Elaine was a tall,
+ethereal, big-eyed child.</p>
+
+<p>“I took my place at a high desk and for three
+years devoted myself assiduously to running errands,
+copying bills, then briefs, doing the grinding,
+gruelling inside work considered a necessary
+stepping-stone to the lower round of the ladder
+which all solicitors must climb, and my ambition
+did not stop there. I wished to become an advocate,
+a barrister. I worked hard, devoted much time previously
+spent with my sisters to study after work
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>“One day Alix told me that Elaine was fourteen.
+I awoke to the realization that here was a young
+lady, almost; I thought her beautiful, as I do now;
+apparently she was delicate; she never tired of
+study, was an omnivorous reader and a good listener,
+especially when matters pertaining to Craighead
+Hall were discussed.</p>
+
+<p>“In this year came the turning point in her life
+and mine.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh sighed, looked dreamily at the long shadows
+thrown on a bookcase by the leading running
+perpendicularly with the flame of the one lamp,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>which, with one other, served to remove the library
+from total darkness, hesitated, then said,</p>
+
+<p>“It seems a sacrilege to open up even to your
+friendly, yes, I venture to say more than friendly—sympathetic—ears,
+even the first chapter in our
+book of secrets.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine is more to me than is existence. Her infirmity,
+for I cannot now regard it as other than a
+terrible affliction, though once, God forgive me, I
+looked upon her peculiar ability to penetrate the
+impenetrable, to draw aside the veil separating the
+here from the hereafter and receive messages from
+the dead—I looked upon this unheard of ability as
+a gift—a sacred thing, sacred,” and Hugh’s voice
+trailed off into a low sibilance.</p>
+
+<p>The light over the fireplace sputtered and went
+out. Everything was in shadow, a mist seemed to
+gather about Hugh’s reclining form—or was it the
+change wrought through lessening of the light?
+I, Gordon Montrose, saw, or thought I saw, a man
+of fifty or more years of age bending over Hugh.
+I missed his features, they were indistinct.</p>
+
+<p>In my excitement I started to my feet, calling,
+“Hugh! Hugh!” and then only we two men, I
+standing all a-tremble, Hugh calm, but sitting up,
+were in the room.</p>
+
+<p>“Let us retire, Gordon,” Hugh said. “I cannot
+go on tonight.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>Excitedly I asked, “Did you see the man bending
+over you?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I seldom see him,” Hugh replied, smiling
+wanly.</p>
+
+<p>“Then,” I answered, “am I taking on the spirit
+of this haunted old place? Perhaps I am only like
+many good Scots, seeing my weird,” and I think
+I laughed lowly, half-heartedly, the sound an apology,
+for Hugh was silent and his manner embarrassed,
+while it kept me from further comment or
+inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh gave no sign, but took the one remaining
+lamp from its setting, preceded me upstairs, opened
+my bedroom door, and said, “Good night—and
+good morning,” and still carrying the lamp, my
+room being lighted, walked down the corridor
+out of sight.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/s.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="S">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">S</span>LEEP would not come. Were they
+all crazy in this mysterious house?
+Had I, through contact, lost my
+sense of reality? I certainly saw a
+shadowy man standing over Hugh,
+yet how could such a thing be?
+Penetrating beyond death. One reads about such
+things; reads of the Christ in person appearing on
+the third day after crucifixion, yes, and I had never
+thought sufficiently deeply to determine whether or
+not I believed this. Was it not labeled Gospel? And
+on other occasions the Master appeared. I thought
+of all recorded appearance of spirits as I remembered
+my Bible, all the old superstitions as we
+call them. Then my mind came back to Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>What, exactly, did Hugh mean by drawing aside
+the veil? Second sight perhaps, but second sight is
+not a malady, it is a gift, if there is such a thing, an
+extra sense. I thought of her beautiful, spirituelle
+face, speaking eyes, golden bronze hair, then of
+the aged, ashen face of the girl in white, felt her
+pressed against me as she dropped from the apple
+tree.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>I awoke with the sun shining in my window,
+facing south—late. Hugh in riding clothes, was
+standing beside a saddled horse, held by one of
+the silent men. The horse was a beautiful beast, one
+could almost use his polished flank for a mirror.</p>
+
+<p>I called a greeting and Hugh called back, “Hope
+you had a good rest,” as he came across the yard and
+as he reached the veranda stairhead, “Sorry I cannot
+stay to entertain you today. I have had breakfast
+and must go to the village; urgent call and cannot
+say when I shall be back. Elaine excuses herself
+this morning. Will be with you shortly, I trust;
+amuse yourself and prowl about, there are many
+oddities about the old place worth investigating.”</p>
+
+<p>We shook hands and I assured him that I felt
+quite at home, secretly rejoicing in anticipation of
+a day alone with my young hostess.</p>
+
+<p>My breakfast came shortly after Hugh had
+mounted his horse, waved to me with his riding
+crop, and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>The day was warm and windless; a boatload of
+rivermen was the only thing moving on the placid
+water in front. These men were taking in and
+piling in great piles, on the shore of the next point
+of land to the east, the long logs, called booms,
+which had served to keep the timber floating down
+the river, out of the shallow water dotted with trees
+among which they would otherwise lodge.</p>
+
+<p>I whiled away the morning, going no farther
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>afield than the landing pier, always keeping an eye
+on the house, momentarily hoping that Elaine
+would present herself on the veranda.</p>
+
+<p>Luncheon over; I dined alone, again sought the
+pier where I could have a good view of the house.
+What a formidable affair it was, rising through its
+entire length of fully 120 feet, two high stories
+and a Tudor style palisade atop, all tooled gray
+limestone, upper and lower veranda stretched
+across its front for about eighty feet to a tower
+coming out to the twelve-foot verandas’ width,
+serving to break the severity of the facade. The
+house shut off a view of the rise of the hill into the
+side of which it was fitted.</p>
+
+<p>Disinclined to intrude through inquiry as to the
+welfare of my hostess, I nevertheless felt quite
+anxious and finally repaired to the house.</p>
+
+<p>I was shocked on entering the great hall; an
+unmistakable odor of something afire assailed me.
+I took the stairs in a few bounds, ran through the
+hall following my sense of smell until it brought
+me to the room which I knew was being occupied by
+Fong Wing, the Chinaman.</p>
+
+<p>Without ceremony I swung open the door and
+burst in upon the celestial, to find Fong on hands
+and knees on the floor, before him an improvised
+shrine, a Buddha, black with age, an oblong plate
+in front, full of burning punk sticks, the room full
+of smoke and scattered about in orderly disorder,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>thousands of small discs of paper, white and pink.</p>
+
+<p>“What in heaven’s name—” here I stopped.
+Another worshipper, another religion, a devotee as
+earnest and orthodox as could be found in any
+Catholic, Protestant or offshoot branch of the
+Christian church; a heathen, and yet was there to
+the Deity anything in his manner of worship differentiating
+his supplication or thank-offering from
+that of the Christian?</p>
+
+<p>Fong, as becomes any worshipper disturbed in
+his devotions who naturally does not wish to break
+off the established connection abruptly, took his
+time and while I stood, open-mouthed, arose.</p>
+
+<p>I apologized, “Fong, I’m sorry, I thought the
+house was afire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Allee light, allee light, Mista Montlose.”</p>
+
+<p>“What the devil are you doing with all this
+paper stuff? You’ll set the house ablaze same day,”
+I retorted.</p>
+
+<p>“Dlive away devil-man makee li’l Missie sick.
+We ketchee him last night,” Fong replied.</p>
+
+<p>Fong’s eyes were big and startled as he sputtered
+out, “No, no! No see him, quick devil-man come,
+Missie talk, talk, bymby nearly all night. Soon
+Missie die; Fong dlive devil-man away, maybe.”</p>
+
+<p>The doubt in the “maybe” registered despair,
+question as to the efficacy of his supplication. There
+flashed through my mind the prayer of the Christian,
+the penance, the intermediary, Mary, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>Saints, Jesus, Buddha, Confucius; the blood offering
+of the Hebrews, the burning punk wood of the
+Chinaman; wherein lies the difference? Is it not
+in fact in the reflex, is not the end attained in the
+act itself? Else why should this heathen pray, this
+one of the five hundred millions of Chinese now
+living and condemned as we are told to an eternity
+in Hell. Is religion merely an emotion? Does devotion
+have its genesis in fear?</p>
+
+<p>“How is your little mistress?” I asked the innocent-faced
+Chinaman, whom I regarded much as
+I would a child.</p>
+
+<p>“Velly bad, velly bad. Velly sick. Not eat, while
+lookee allee same die, last night, today, now
+maybe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Take me to her,” I ordered, peremptorily, forgetting
+propriety or anything except that I must
+get help.</p>
+
+<p>Fong opened a door in the side of his room,
+crossed a hallway, quietly swung wide another door
+and I stepped into Elaine’s chamber.</p>
+
+<p>My heart stopped beating. She was lying on a
+great high mahogany bed with four carved posts
+marking the corners rising half-way to the room’s
+ceiling. The westering sun slanting across the
+white bed-covering caught her face in its full
+light. She was as motionless as the dead; gray with
+the pallor of death, there was no rise and fall of the
+chest, not even a quiver of the throat.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>I thought her dead as I stood for a moment looking
+not at the girl Elaine as I carried her in my
+heart but at that other ashen-faced woman into
+whom Elaine was unaccountably metamorphosed
+on my first night’s sojourn at Craighead Hall.</p>
+
+<p>Gently I placed my hand on her brow, it was
+cold—but moist—wet in fact.</p>
+
+<p>“This is not death,” I said aloud, though I had
+forgotten Fong who stood about six feet away with
+hands clenched together and raised above and in
+front of his head.</p>
+
+<p>She was lying on her back, arms outstretched. I
+hastily placed a finger on her left wrist. Thank
+God! a pulse, feeble heart-beats, regular, in contrast
+with mine!</p>
+
+<p>Fong, trained lady’s maid of the prison warden’s
+feminine household, was at home in this emergency.
+The Chinaman brought cold water, laved
+her brow, face and throat, talking an unintelligible
+jargon in low crooning tones.</p>
+
+<p>I stood silent and helpless until Fong directed
+me to perform a similar office with hands and arms,
+applying linen wrung out in cold water and rubbing
+vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>A faint tinge of color gradually replaced the
+pallor. She sighed, suddenly sat up, eyes wide open
+and lips apart as though in alarm. She threw out
+her hands, palms outward as though to ward off—Fong
+dropped to his knees. I think he thanked some
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>deity, perhaps only the intermediary; it was in
+Chinese; as for me, I thanked God direct and in
+good Anglo-Saxon and so loudly that it seemed
+to arouse Elaine and explain to her the cause of
+the intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>“Why the reception?” came in a hysterical, whispered
+laugh from Elaine, her big eyes resting on
+mine, then she sank back onto the pillows, the eyes
+closed; she seemed utterly exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall go for a doctor,” I urged, but she shook
+her head.</p>
+
+<p>“No! No doctor can do anything. I shall be all
+right in a little while,” and she seemed to fall
+asleep as I stood irresolute, not knowing whether
+to obey or go at once to the village for a physician.</p>
+
+<p>I turned on hearing a rustling as of paper being
+gathered together, to find the Celestial with a sheaf
+of leaves in his hands, moon-eyed as he looked at
+me saying, “Devil-liting, Missie liting to Devil-man,
+allee time talk, talk, talk.”</p>
+
+<p>I took the sheaf of papers from Fong’s hand.
+There was no writing, nothing but almost perpendicular
+strokes on them. These strokes were usually
+from left to right across the page and while they
+all ran together in unbroken order, there seemed a
+semblance of word form. Opposite is a facsimile of
+one paragraph that struck my eye.</p>
+
+<p>At first meaningless, God help us, I thought, it is
+a mental disorder, possibly incurable; then my eye
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>caught in the pencil-strokes the words “No the
+old life.” I followed, partially guessing, partially
+deciphering, until I had the whole paragraph. This
+one read:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p99.jpg" alt="handwritten paragraph"></div>
+
+<p>“No the old life was too hard but until in this
+life I did not know what the true meaning was—”</p>
+
+<p>Great heavens, I had never suspected. I had read
+of mediums, automatic writings—men and women
+allegedly possessing the gift of transcribing without
+volition messages from the dead. Could such
+a thing be possible? I had never given the absurd
+claim a serious thought. ’Twas beyond the range of
+the possible, yet here in my hands under my very
+eyes was evidence that such a thing existed. Evidence,
+not proof, I reflected. Recollection of descriptions
+of the medium’s physical manifestations
+when the desire or urge to write came fitted this
+case.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>I glanced over to where Elaine lay, her face
+calm and turned slightly away from me; the rise
+and fall of the coverlet showed an easy breathing.
+Gone all semblance of death, a girl again, she
+peacefully slept. What was the cause? Why should
+a mental impairment take this peculiar phase, create
+this ability to put on paper what a dormant physical
+consciousness permits the subconscious to receive
+and through the pliant physical, transcribe? Did
+Elaine desire to write? No, I preferred the thought
+that some peculiar complex brought the urge and
+that she was helpless. Was she a “medium?” Surely
+the symptoms, the pallor, the unnatural in every
+respect; did they not resemble very closely those
+described in what I had at various times read and
+cast aside as fanciful?</p>
+
+<p>All delicate scruples were cast to the winds. I
+shamelessly took a pile of written pages of this
+seemingly meaningless tracery, sat at the little mahogany
+desk and painstakingly traced the lines.</p>
+
+<p>Fong placed a shaded lamp on the desk top,
+carefully seeing that no ray of light fell on the
+quiet sleeper, his little mistress, and left the room.
+Strange how noiseless a Chinaman can be. I scarcely
+sensed that he was in the room, so absorbed was I
+in deciphering the writing, evidently traced for
+the full line without removal of pencil from the
+paper. No crossed t’s or dotted i’s, but words stood
+out as legibly as though in print.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>As I read, hour after hour, with no realization as
+to the passing of time or thought as to my indelicate
+act, I became more and more mystified. Why
+should Elaine’s pencil trace such things?</p>
+
+<p>Here apparently was something urging my hostess
+to “send me away; keep me away from Hugh.”</p>
+
+<p>The name “Hogarth” drew my attention; it
+seemed to stand out as though written in India ink
+on a sheet lying on the desk which had fallen from
+my hand and my errand to this house, which I must
+admit had become a secondary matter, came sharply
+before me.</p>
+
+<p>“Send him away, he cannot find Hogarth. He
+must go away.”</p>
+
+<p>Evidently a question had been asked then. Did
+Elaine talk or merely think the question?</p>
+
+<p>The next line, “No, you never heard of him, he
+is nothing to you, he will never be found.”</p>
+
+<p>Another question, a new line, “yes, gone away,
+can never be found. No, I cannot find him here.”</p>
+
+<p>I searched for further mention of Hogarth
+through the entire pile of written sheets, went back
+to where I had left off.</p>
+
+<p>One line said “Hugh must be warned, wait for
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>Were these lines written while Hugh and I sat
+in the library on the previous evening? Was the
+shadowy form that I had seen bending over Hugh
+the dictator of these alleged messages? Was there
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>then in this thing something more tangible than
+the meanderings of a mind asleep, even deranged?
+What did this girl know about Hogarth? Surely
+I had gleaned from Hugh that the man was unknown
+to him and therefore Elaine could not have
+had him in mind. The name Hogarth held only in
+dim recollection, that uncertain, was all that Hugh
+had, and of that I was convinced.</p>
+
+<p>I could feel a peculiar chill as of fear as I sat
+in the semi-darkness of this silent night, a silence
+so intense as to be oppressive. Not a sound came
+from the sleeper. For the first time there dawned
+on my consciousness the thought, “Perhaps this is
+reality.”</p>
+
+<p>The words of Paul came to me “If Christ be
+not risen, then is our preaching vain and your faith
+is also vain.” “Christ is risen, Christ is risen,” sung
+by many a sweet-voiced choir had passed me by,
+the story of the resurrection accepted as a matter
+spiritual, not as conscious life after death. Was my
+mind willing to accept such a thing as a spirit, a living
+entity after death, knowing the things of life,
+earthly life, seeing the happenings of today’s
+events, remembering the past, just as though alive
+in the flesh?</p>
+
+<p>“Go to the Bible for help in all dilemmas,” was
+my mother’s adjuration. “There you shall learn
+the truth.”</p>
+
+<p>At fourteen, had I been a Catholic, I should have
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>been known as an oblate, so possessed was I with
+religious fervor and I knew my Holy Bible thoroughly.
+That I should cast back at this hour for
+negation or affirmation of a new and somewhat
+terrifying thought to a book which I had for years
+neglected to use did not occur to me as strange. Do
+we not, almost to a man, when dire trouble overtakes
+us, go to God as we know him through the
+teachings during our youth?</p>
+
+<p>The words of Saul “Seek me a woman that hath
+a familiar spirit that I may go to her and inquire of
+her,” and the reply, “Behold there is a woman that
+hath a familiar spirit at Endor,” floated to my consciousness.
+And Samuel through this medium
+talked with Saul, told him things as they were.</p>
+
+<p>Could I question the inspired word of God? No!
+The medium saw and identified Samuel to Saul.
+God’s laws being unchangeable, man being the
+same today as in Saul’s time, natural law unchanged,
+spirits released from the body must today
+exist as they did before Christ came, and if they
+could communicate then, they can communicate
+now and as I thought of the events of last night,
+fear smote me hard.</p>
+
+<p>How long I pondered these things I know not,
+nor did I notice, except vaguely that the Chinaman
+had noiselessly entered and as quietly left the room.
+Hours must have passed. I remember thinking:</p>
+
+<p>“What change in humanity might be wrought
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>through the conviction, no, the knowledge, that one
+was never alone, always accompanied by the spirit
+of a friend who had passed on.”</p>
+
+<p>Should one know his every act was seen by somebody
+would the world not walk more circumspectly?
+Would not crime be lessened and life rendered
+sweeter?</p>
+
+<p>Things seemed unreal. I fancied an influence
+strange and new to me, which I did not try to
+analyze, drawing me on to a point where superstition
+superseded my usual common sense, and I do
+not know where my thoughts would have carried
+me had not Fong Wing quietly entered the room
+with a tray, an eggnog, a bowl of broth and three
+strips of brown toast; an immaterial observation,
+everything considered, but something real, tangible.</p>
+
+<p>Fong spoke, “Dlink this, Missie,” presenting the
+tray.</p>
+
+<p>Then I awoke to the fact that Elaine, awake and
+questioning-eyed was looking at me.</p>
+
+<p>I sprang to the bedside, “Elaine! Elaine! You
+have been desperately ill,” I almost shouted and at
+the same time realized I had addressed her thus
+familiarly.</p>
+
+<p>She did not seem to notice the use of her Christian
+name, merely smiled and said as she took the
+drink from Fong’s hands, “I’m awfully sorry to
+have worried you. Really, I’ve slept wonderfully.
+Where is Hughie?”</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>Then without awaiting an answer to her query,
+while looking intently past me at her desk, added,</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you for your consideration. I had a miserable
+headache, but am much—”</p>
+
+<p>At that moment she must have seen the sheets of
+paper which I had absent-mindedly kept in hand
+for her expression suddenly changed.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot describe the change. Have you ever
+wounded a doe, run her to exhaustion’s point and
+just before using the huntsman’s knife to end her
+misery, caught the look in your victim’s eyes? If
+so, you then have seen what I saw as I looked at
+my hostess; a beseeching, wounded, pleading look
+which imposed its force on every fibre of my being
+and brought me to my knees beside the bed asking
+forgiveness, asking for her confidence, bringing in
+the name of Hugh, help for her, my anxiety, everything
+except the one emotion obsessing me, the
+wish consuming me, everything but the whole
+truth, that I loved her and was cold with the fear
+that I had unforgivably offended.</p>
+
+<p>I felt her small hand laid lightly on my bowed
+head, heard a low pleading voice say, “Please go.”</p>
+
+<p>I do not know how I got out of her presence, nor
+why I should have walked so far through the night.
+Dawn came while I was atop a high hill a mile at
+least from the house, with thoughts inchoate but
+even yet holding to the night’s events and their
+possible sequel.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>I must have slept all day. Hugh had returned,
+for my first sensation on awakening was hearing
+him call from the orchard, “A beautiful sunset,
+John.”</p>
+
+<p>With spirits at low ebb, realizing that I must
+give an explanation and offer an apology to the
+brother of the young lady whose privacy I had encroached
+upon in the desperation of good purpose,
+I dressed hastily and went down to the orchard,
+thinking that my status at the Craighead home
+would be altered, yes, possibly my visit abridged
+through the untoward events of the night.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh, standing head bared under an apple tree,
+called out a quiet, “Hello, Gordon, glad to see you
+out,” gave me courage and when he, looking
+frankly and with friendship in the look, held out
+his hand, I could not suppress the moisture which
+shut him from my vision as my hand clasped his
+and his left arm went over my shoulders, giving
+me a little familiar pull toward him.</p>
+
+<p>“We must save her, Gordon,” and “Yes, Hugh,”
+was all that was said, but it filled my very soul with
+gladness.</p>
+
+<p>I excused myself to return to my room to change
+for dinner as Hugh informed me, “We shall have
+the little girl’s company at dinner this evening.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/s.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="S">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">S</span>UMMONED half an hour later
+by the Chinaman, all smiles, I met
+Elaine and Hugh at the foot of
+the grand stairway, an embarrassing
+moment for me. A momentary
+casting down of her eyes, then
+they were raised in all their glory to mine and I
+grasped a little warm extended hand which nestled
+in mine with just the hint of a returned pressure,
+but the day was saved, it spelled forgiveness.</p>
+
+<p>Our hostess was pale, but in good spirit. During
+dinner, Hugh explained that his urgent call to the
+village was to see the member of Parliament from
+his district making a flying visit home; in the interest
+of a proposed law touching on prison reform
+generally and in particular the establishment by
+the province of a provincial home for released prisoners.
+He had not accomplished anything definite,
+but had arranged for the care of Haig, had seen the
+Presbyterian minister, the Reeve, Sheriff and the
+Postmaster and thought he had paved the way for
+the boy’s return without more embarrassment to the
+unfortunate youth than could naturally be avoided.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>These and other topics while the serving man
+was present. We three alone, an embarrassing
+silence ensued.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine broke the spell.</p>
+
+<p>“Hughie, I am glad that Mr. Montrose—”</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon,” Hugh interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Gordon, then,” she said, looking at me
+smilingly, “knows our secret. I wish you would tell
+him everything—how at first we enjoyed the novelty,
+experimented with it, played with the fire
+until we were burned. We never even suspected
+danger. I was as eager for the experiment as the
+others. But now it possesses me, controls me, and
+I am powerless. He found me in Scotland, now he
+lives right here, right here beside me.”</p>
+
+<p>Her voice rose as she continued, “The man
+wanted to get through a message, many messages
+relating to Hugh’s affairs. Gradually he unfolded
+secrets, family secrets, things not known to Alix
+and Hughie or myself. I was only a child. Then
+later when we heard his dreadful story we were so
+moved that it seemed cruel to refuse to listen to
+him.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh spoke. “I encouraged the damnable practice.”</p>
+
+<p>“Because we were in the dark,” Elaine continued,
+becoming more calm. “The thing was so unbelievable!
+A dead man, buried in that little enclosure
+where you and Hughie met, sending his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>messages telling his history, and always keeping
+back something, just as though he were alive and
+talking to me. Don’t think him tyrannical or unkind.
+He is unhappy. He has not changed in the
+spirit world. He guides us, helps us through his
+messages. It was he who urged Hugh to take up
+this work.”</p>
+
+<p>“I—lose myself often. I can’t help listening to
+him. I don’t need to write, I can repeat the words
+as they come to me. When I’m awake, I can keep
+away from it by sheer will-power, but when I’m
+asleep, or just falling asleep, I can’t help myself.
+I must get up and write. That was the first stage—questioning
+aloud and writing the answers, and
+now I can’t stop. My right arm is cold this minute.”</p>
+
+<p>Her face was white, not the ashen hue of the
+first visitation, her right arm extended, the first
+finger and thumb pressed together as though holding
+a pencil and rotating rapidly as though drawing
+many small circles. I had seen many of these circles
+among the automatic writings last night and wondered
+as to their significance.</p>
+
+<p>“Save me, Hughie,” she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh sat as though petrified, gazing at the
+extended hand. Was there too much light, or did
+Hugh see the form of his old friend? I do not
+know, but if not actually visible, doubtless from
+memory’s storehouse there came to Hugh the vision
+of the deformed John Blank to paralyze action.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>I grasped Elaine’s cold hand, seized her arm,
+brought her to her feet and shook her violently before
+realizing what I was doing. Then remembering
+the treatment administered the evening before,
+rubbed her arm vigorously for a minute until
+warmth, imagined if not real, was there.</p>
+
+<p>The blood returned to the girl’s face. Embarrassed,
+we looked at each other and she and I
+laughed. Mine was certainly not my usual exhibition
+of hilarity.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh put his arm about his sister’s waist and
+half carried her to a large easy-chair where she sat
+on the great leather arm with one white arm about
+his neck.</p>
+
+<p>“Exorcising a devil,” was my first coherent
+thought. Christ driving out evil spirits from humans
+into swine, a queer proceeding. He must have
+a super-mind—strong—did not Elaine say she
+kept Blank away through exercise of will-power—Luther
+seeing the evil one, <i>D’Evil</i>, <i>sans apostrophe</i>,
+Devil, and throwing his inkwell at his Satanic
+majesty, effectively putting him to flight, else we
+would all, I presume, still be Catholic; these measures,
+the methods applied, crowded in on me as I
+moved from the table to a seat near Hugh and
+Elaine. My brain was chaotically striving for a
+defensive weapon for Elaine’s protection.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank God I never see him. I should die of
+fright. Hughie has described him to me, but oh,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>how I pity him, even now. He is so sad, so unhappy
+in a state where we think our worries are over.”</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for a moment, then she resumed,</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know, Mr.——, do you know, Gordon,
+I am told that we do not change when our bodies
+die; we awaken to find ourselves just as we were,
+knowing nothing more than when we lived. We are
+cared for until able to care for ourselves, influenced
+by those with whom we come in contact, and just as
+here, there are the good and the bad. Some day I
+shall show you the messages.”</p>
+
+<p>I sat spellbound. A little hand came out toward
+me which I eagerly grasped and touched with my
+lips. I think pity inspired her gracious act for certainly
+I felt woebegone and probably looked it.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that what we call Heaven, or is it Hell?” I
+managed to say.</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps we should call it Purgatory as there
+seem to be conditions or places which my friend
+cannot reach,” Elaine replied gravely, then, in a
+lighter tone, “I shall be in no hurry to make the
+change. I like life here pretty well, just Hugh and
+I and our work and the great outdoors,” and she
+gave her brother a hug which seemed to bring him
+back to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Make it a trinity, take me into the circle, I implore,”
+I said earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine twisted Hugh’s face upward playfully so
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>that she might see his eyes and said, “Perhaps we
+shall, Hughie, after he knows all about us, though
+our skeleton may scare him away back to Pennsylvania.
+I wish you would go on and tell Gordon the
+rest of our history; I shall stay and correct you,
+should you malign your infant sister too frequently.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh promptly commenced. “I think I was telling
+you of this girl’s abnormality; the first signs,
+when the lamp went out. One evening in June,
+Elaine and a girl-friend were playing with a new
+toy, a planchette. For a time only undecipherable
+scribblings resulted, then there was written: ‘I wish
+to speak with Hugh.’</p>
+
+<p>“The girl came into the study calling: ‘Mr.
+Hugh, somebody on the planchette is calling for
+you.’</p>
+
+<p>“I answered, ‘Show him in, I am busy.’</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine then called me and the pencil certainly
+wrote, ‘I must give Hugh a message.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘I am not consciously guiding the thing,’ Elaine
+said, and while Alix, McFarlane and I looked on,
+the pencil wrote, but not in Elaine’s square-topped
+letters, rather more like a man’s handwriting, ‘Hallowed
+is dying. You are needed at Craighead Hall.’</p>
+
+<p>“McFarlane said, ‘Drop the dratted thing. It
+is a machination of the devil.’</p>
+
+<p>“I urged Elaine to try again but she could get
+only nonsensical things, some vile words, yet even
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>these were a source of wonder to us as they could
+not have originated in the brain of my little sister.</p>
+
+<p>“That evening we were discussing the peculiarity
+of thought transference; McFarlane said she had
+been thinking about the old man at the Hall. We
+talked of Mesmer and his peculiar gift.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine suddenly exclaimed, ‘Hugh, Hugh,
+look what the board has written; I wonder if I
+guided it.’</p>
+
+<p>“There it was in the same handwriting, ‘Tell
+Hugh, John Blank says Hallowed is dead. Hugh
+should come at once.’</p>
+
+<p>“We were mystified, did not think to ask any
+question of thin air. It would at that stage of inexperience
+and ignorance have seemed to all of us
+a silly proceeding.</p>
+
+<p>“We all, except McFarlane, tried the board with
+no result. Elaine, accused of hoaxing, was advised
+not unkindly by her sister to devote her energies
+to the piano or her books. We were always kindly
+toward each other and the incident evidently hurt
+this tender flower for she said nothing further
+about the planchette, though I learned later that
+during the month following she still played with
+the board.</p>
+
+<p>“One day there came a letter from one Alexander
+Douglas of Valleyford, saying that he had officiated
+at the burial of John Hallowed two days
+previously and was writing at the request of Lindsay
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>Micklejohn who had worked under Hallowed.</p>
+
+<p>“I remembered Lindsay whose education was
+nil, my first thought being, ‘How will he run the
+place? He cannot write.’</p>
+
+<p>“Alix was the first of us to hark back to the message.
+We compared dates, then stood looking stupidly
+at each other. Elaine had not said a word.
+Now she quietly told us that she had received many
+repetitions of the statement that Hallowed was
+dead, that she had asked aloud while alone as one
+of the messages came, ‘Where are you?’ and the
+pencil wrote: ‘Right here’ and described a lot of
+circles.</p>
+
+<p>“She went to her room and brought quite a number
+of sheets of paper, timidly, yet I thought feeling
+rather proud of her gift and gratified that the
+genuineness of the message had been established.
+She was in good health, though at times Alix chided
+her for not getting outdoors more. She looked pale
+and did not eat much.</p>
+
+<p>“McFarlane who came in as usual that evening
+was dumbfounded; I think he was more shocked
+than any of us. He kept his eyes on Elaine as
+though she was something set apart.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Uncanny,’ I heard him muttering to himself,
+and caught the words ‘a witch, that leetle
+young ane.’</p>
+
+<p>“Now came trouble. Elaine just would accompany
+me; all our joint protests were vain. Alix
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>asked McFarlane to go with us. He protested that
+he could not go and added, ‘Neither can you, lass,’
+and I was surprised to see the masterful Alix accept
+the verdict without protest.</p>
+
+<p>“Hysterics, oceans of tears, a fainting spell and
+the little minx had her way. My employers accepted
+my resignation, giving me a ‘to whom it may
+concern’ recommendation, carefully, I noted,
+weighing its wording so that no responsibility
+would rest on them should I go wrong. Bless them,
+theirs was a splendid school for a youth; the chalk-line
+was never permitted to fade and the work habit
+was taught every day.</p>
+
+<p>“We four were on the dock at Liverpool when
+McFarlane exploded his bombshell. He put his
+arm around Alix’ waist, held out his hand to me
+and said, ‘For sax year gane, Hugh, this wee girlie
+has been me wedded wifie; she wadna permeet me
+to tell.’</p>
+
+<p>“He was all excitement and as usual lapsed into
+his natural tongue.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Is it true?’ to Alix, was all I could say.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it was true; Alix exacted secrecy because
+she was the little mother to Elaine and myself;
+looking back now I think she mothered McFarlane
+also and did not wish our close relationship and
+happy home disturbed. I was glad; so was Elaine,
+that during my absence Alix had a protector, a man
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>I liked; he seemed more like a father than a
+brother.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine put her arms about her sister, cried a
+little, but incongruously said, ‘Now I shall have
+Hughie all to myself. You have James.’</p>
+
+<p>“After goodbyes had been spoken, Elaine aboard
+and I just about to step onto the deck of the lighter
+which was to carry us to the waiting ship, my newly
+found brother-in-law whispered in my ear while
+holding my hand, ‘Anoo ye’ll ken why Alix canna
+gae. Ye’ll hae a neephe an ye return.’”</p>
+
+<p>One of McFarlane’s injunctions laid when he
+knew I was going back to Canada was that I should
+immediately seek out John Blank, get his full history
+and relay it to him promptly. We had all settled
+on the theory that Blank had been able to project
+his thoughts through space into the mind of
+Elaine who automatically transcribed them. This
+theory was strengthened when Elaine informed us
+that she had discarded the planchette and wrote
+just as easily without it, but always in a handwriting
+different from hers.</p>
+
+<p>“The sea took its toll of both Elaine and myself.
+We were rejoiced after the long voyage to find ourselves
+with our two small traveling trunks at the
+station where fifteen years before I first saw a locomotive.
+A carriage and an express wagon conveyed
+us clear across the old-time swamp to Verde Island.
+A new corduroy road, while rather uncomfortable,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>was much better than walking.</p>
+
+<p>“Big Beaver, a shriveled old Indian then, and
+he is alive yet, deigned to take my hand, said ‘How’
+and grimaced, one could scarcely call it smiled, at
+Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>“When well out in the river in the same canoe
+that had brought McFarlane and his sad tidings to
+us, Beaver said, ‘Where other girl?’</p>
+
+<p>“I told him about Alix and McFarlane, also who
+Elaine was, but it is difficult to say whether or not
+an Indian is interested. Beaver merely grunted and
+when we reached a point in the river where Elaine
+first saw the old pile of stone here, the Indian said,
+‘She tip,’ as the child jumped to her feet with an
+‘Oh, oh, that’s beautiful. I’ll never leave that wonderful
+fairy castle.’</p>
+
+<p>“I told her to sit quietly or we would never reach
+it.</p>
+
+<p>“Micklejohn was awaiting us, big, kindly, raw-boned
+fellow that he was. He sleeps beside Hallowed
+over on the ‘burnt hill,’ as we call it,
+drowned in a dare-devil attempt to shoot the rapids
+below the village.</p>
+
+<p>“I missed Hallowed, felt sad, but Elaine’s gladness
+cheered me. She was all over the house during
+the first few days; explored from cellar to garret,
+had to have explained how the water that comes out
+of the rock under the kitchen in a big stream is
+pumped by its own force through the use of an engine
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>called a ‘ram’ set away back in a rock chamber.
+The water is raised to the stone tower on the west
+of the house and from there flows with some force
+throughout the whole place including the garden
+and stables.</p>
+
+<p>“On making an inspection of the vaults in which
+vegetables and fruit were stored, the third day
+after our arrival, I heard voices in the vault in
+which father kept his private boxes and papers and
+on looking in, found Elaine, the cook and the
+housemaid before the door of the inner vault which
+father had always kept locked. The cook had inserted
+the hooked end of the grate poker into a
+hole where a big brass bolt had served as a handle
+in pulling the massive stone door open.</p>
+
+<p>“‘What is in here, Hugh?’ Elaine asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I told her of its previous use and that it was
+empty and Micklejohn who was with me explained
+that he had found the lock broken but sprung; he
+had endeavored to get the door open and failed.
+The bolt had been removed, in the belief that by
+putting a hook through to the inside the lock could
+be forced, but the bolt went in only about six inches
+and the door was a foot thick. Elaine appropriated
+this vault as her own because of the inner door
+being closed.</p>
+
+<p>“Hallowed had added at least two hundred acres
+to the cleared land. There was quite a sum to my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>credit in the bank at Valleyford and over a thousand
+dollars in currency in the oak chest.</p>
+
+<p>“My first work was in identifying myself at the
+bank, accomplished without difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>“A week from the day I reached home I started
+in to comply with McFarlane’s injunction to interview
+John Blank.</p>
+
+<p>“I took the small canoe one afternoon and found
+my way through the back channel to Blank’s landing,
+somewhat in need of repair; walked slowly
+through the deep shade of the ash swamp and up
+through the rows of currant bushes, thinking how
+I would be met by the unfortunate man and the
+kindly wife and of what he would say to me.</p>
+
+<p>“I intended asking all about his wonderful gift
+of thought transference.</p>
+
+<p>“The house had that deserted appearance which
+chills the blood. I rapped on the door several times,
+called, ‘Mr. Blank.’</p>
+
+<p>“Not a sound. Somewhere out on the river a loon
+sent up its lonesome cry. It threatened rain. After
+a time I tried to open the door. Something held it
+firm. The window—I could see that a hickory peg
+slipped through a hole in the sash into the jamb,
+secured it. Finally I broke one of the small panes
+of glass, slipped my arm in and pulled the peg. I
+called again through the open pane. The door and
+window, being fastened from the inside, added to
+my conviction that the man was there, perhaps very
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>ill, so I pushed open the window and managed to
+crawl through, letting it slip down into place as
+quietly as possible, though it made a disquieting
+noise.</p>
+
+<p>“The day was cloudy and though the room
+where I had once sat with Mr. and Mrs. Blank at
+dinner was in order, the light was dim. I felt like
+a burglar, called a couple of times, then opened the
+door of the south room where you found Haig.”</p>
+
+<p>Here Hugh stopped, looked at Elaine, who had
+been quietly sleeping for some time, looked at me,
+shifted his sister to a more comfortable position. I
+merely nodded and Hugh continued.</p>
+
+<p>“There was nothing but the little white dresser,
+bed and blue furniture there. Then I lifted the
+latch of the north room door. It was fastened from
+the inside. Placing a chair against the door I stood
+upon it and looked over the top of the partition; a
+long, square cornered box of cedar was on the floor,
+a small pine box, open and half full of something
+white resembling in the dim light flour or chalk
+stood close beside it and there was some of the
+white substance on the floor. The braided wool mat
+was covered with it. Otherwise the room was in
+order, the bed ‘made up.’</p>
+
+<p>“Nobody was in the house. I was about to withdraw,
+had even thought of the note of apology for
+housebreaking that I should leave with an invitation
+to come to the Hall, when my eye caught a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>piece of white paper tacked onto the top of the
+chest.</p>
+
+<p>“I swung over the partition and landed almost
+atop the small box. On the card, tacked at its four
+corners, I found written:</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="large">JOHN BLANK</span></p>
+
+<p>and underneath was the verse which you read on
+his tombstone the day we met. On a folded sheet
+of paper, slipped partially under the tacked card
+was written in bold though cramped handwriting,</p>
+
+<p>“‘Life is intolerable, sleep the only solace.
+There is no God of mercy, my life is proof positive.
+No more sorrow, no more yearning, only sleep.
+Why not sleep? This is my will and testament that
+all I possess shall be the property of one Hugh
+Craighead of Edinburgh, Scotland. I make no conditions
+but pray that he may make use of his vast
+inheritance in searching prisons for the unhappy
+victims of circumstances such as I, that they may
+have wrongs righted. Stranger, show mercy in
+death to one to whom mercy in life has never been
+shown. Bury me as I am.’</p>
+
+<p>“I never was a coward, yet some feeling other
+than horror took possession of me. I unbolted the
+bedroom door, fled across the outer room, raised
+the bar and swung the front door wide; getting
+outside was my first thought, for I did not doubt
+that the body of Blank was in the big chest and the
+thought unmanned me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>“A thin misty rain was falling, but I sat head in
+hands on a crude seat fashioned from a section of a
+tree, unmindful; anything was better than this horrible
+house.</p>
+
+<p>“My inheritance. The pity of it, the poor fellow
+giving all he had to the boy who had not repulsed
+him, the deformed.</p>
+
+<p>“Then came unworthy thoughts. If a body was
+in that box, it could not be that of Blank for Elaine
+had caught his thought message. The message had
+said he was right there in Edinburgh. Probably he
+was there now, certainly this house had been closed
+for some weeks. The dust on my clothing attested
+this, but why this mockery, a hoax. I should find
+nothing alarming in the chest.</p>
+
+<p>“I applied a match to the carefully trimmed wick
+of a tallow dip sitting on the table, walked boldly
+into the room, examined the white substance. It was
+lime, but that spoke nothing. I took hold of the top
+of the chest, seemingly a loose lid as it overlapped
+the lower box, raised it while standing at the south
+end, perhaps a foot, then dropped it quickly, reeled
+from the room, ran from the house down through
+the garden and was in my canoe before I remembered
+the door. It was open.</p>
+
+<p>“Had the house been afire—perhaps it was as I
+had left the light on the little stand—I could not
+have forced myself back.</p>
+
+<p>“As I paddled my canoe over the long four miles
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>through the quietly falling rain, night came and
+with it a sense of my responsibility as a citizen. The
+coroner must come. I must again see this awful evidence
+of a tragedy. Who but I, last in the thoughts
+of this man, should see his earthly house decently
+interred; but Elaine’s happiness must not be encroached
+upon. I must ride to the village. Lindsay
+would not do. Elaine must be made to think I had
+an urgent call, a veterinary for one of the horses;
+no, one of the men could go for such a thing as
+that; the night was bad; I had it—Smith up the
+river road had sent an Indian for me. Elaine did
+not know of my visit to the Blank place, otherwise
+she would have insisted upon accompanying me.</p>
+
+<p>“I found my little sister asleep on a divan, looking
+unusually pale; a book, the family Bible, was
+on the floor. There was also a couple of small
+sheets of my mother’s writing paper there and a
+pencil beside her hand. The paper was covered with
+that peculiar, perpendicular writing which I had
+not seen since we left Edinburgh. Hard to decipher
+but finally after repairing to my lighted room I
+traced the words: ‘Hugh must respect my request.’</p>
+
+<p>“Another line, ‘He will know. Hugh must keep
+secret.’</p>
+
+<p>“I did not attempt to read further but returned
+at once to Elaine’s room and quietly shook her.
+Wide-awake and wild-eyed she looked at me a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>second, then exclaimed, ‘My, what a terrible
+dream! Why should he follow me here?’</p>
+
+<p>“Gently I put an arm about her; told her she
+must stay out in the open air more. She replied,
+‘I was out in the woods, just before the mist became
+rain. I was enjoying the quiet and the damp
+smell, when a feeling that I must return to the
+house came over me. I thought something might
+have happened to you, but when I reached my room
+I knew—you know the rest Hughie—and he
+seemed so anxious. The words just came into my
+head, repeated over and over. Don’t you see,
+Hughie, that the writing is just like that through
+the planchette? What is it? What does it all mean?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Just a troublesome dream, child,’ was all I
+could say. I told her I must ride up to Smith’s on
+some urgent call or he would not have sent for me,
+sent the maid to her room and, supperless, rode out
+through the dark woods.</p>
+
+<p>“That was a long, hard ride. Village lights
+looked good when I reached the top of the last
+hill. My thoughts had not been friendly companions.
+I was disobeying a written request of the dead
+and Elaine’s writings troubled me. Somehow in the
+light of events, thought transference did not fit.
+The man, John Blank, was dead, had been, to my
+thinking, dead for weeks. I could not fathom it.</p>
+
+<p>“I sought out the doctor who served as coroner.
+He listened in silence to my story, then went to a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>cupboard in the corner of the office, took out a bottle,
+poured two generous portions of the contents,
+handed one glass to me saying, ‘Take another
+drink, young man, ’twill clear your brain,’ adding
+after he had swallowed the entire contents of his
+glass, ‘Damn me if I believe a word of it; how
+could a man murder himself and put the body in a
+coffin? Put that under your belt and you’ll feel
+better.’</p>
+
+<p>“Alcohol and I were almost strangers but I took
+the doctor’s advice and drank most of the stuff.
+Scotch, he called it. The result was I heard the
+doctor’s voice as though from a distance saying that
+Sandy Campbell said that while hunting he had
+once seen Blank on the river, that some years ago
+somebody had said in the post office that he had
+seen Blank and a woman taking a train at Beauville,
+but he, the doctor-coroner, had never set eyes on
+him, did not really believe the county harbored
+such a person.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Why, he must have been either a ticket-of-leave
+man or an escaped criminal.’</p>
+
+<p>“Vaguely I gleaned that the doctor with some
+villagers would come to the Hall on the morrow,
+take boats and hold an inquest, should he find that
+I was sane and had seen what I stated.</p>
+
+<p>“Long after midnight I aroused a stable boy to
+care for my horse. The road home was heavy but
+the rain had ceased falling. I came in through the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>orchard way, slipped quietly into Elaine’s room,
+found her sleeping like a baby and retired, wondering
+if I had done right in summoning the official
+or if I should not rather have taken a spade, dug
+a grave and covered from an unsympathetic world
+all that was left of my friend John Blank.</p>
+
+<p>“They came next day about eleven o’clock, a
+joking, inquisitive lot. None had ever seen Craighead
+Hall. My father always stood aloof from the
+people of the village and township. To a man these
+seven were silenced when ushered through the
+front door. I felt a pang of regret. Father would
+have dined these yokels in the servants’ hall instead
+of here. To carry out the deception which I had
+practised on Elaine, we took fishing tackle in the
+boats. Micklejohn, I took into my confidence and
+he accompanied the jury with the doctor and myself.</p>
+
+<p>“The door stood ajar as when I had fled Blank’s
+house. The air was less oppressive than when I had
+entered the day before. The tallow dip, exhausted
+of fuel, had harmlessly burned the wick and gone
+out.</p>
+
+<p>“The coroner, erstwhile jocular and careless, became
+now the public officer, swore his jury of six,
+examined the room thoroughly, felt the lime in
+the box, rubbed it between finger and thumb, lifted,
+as I had, the box lid and closed it as quickly. The
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>box was carried by the six men and placed on the
+dining table.</p>
+
+<p>“When the jury was seated, I read the letter,
+then made a plea that its request be heeded and that
+no further examination be made. I identified the
+body as that of John Blank. The old doctor merely
+shook his head, removed the lid of the chest and
+I turned my back and looked out the window
+through the long rows of current bushes down to
+the dismal black ash swamp and thought of the
+dead years that had passed since my memorable
+evening as a guest in this place.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Ingenious’ the coroner called it, could one
+believe the evidence of one’s eyes. Could any man
+deliberately prepare in this way to cut the thread
+of life, fashion out a box, fill it with quicklime, pile
+it over his person, keep at his side enough to fill out
+the spaces, leaving only a hand and face clear? The
+cover was doubtless kept up at the end where the
+head rested through the use of a neatly fashioned
+prop, fitting into a slight groove in the top of the
+right side of the box. A slight jar only was necessary
+to dislodge the prop permitting the cover to
+close down into place. The verdict was suicide by
+the taking of cyanide of potassium.</p>
+
+<p>“Inwardly I mentally apologized; the villagers
+were after all, kindly fellows, sobered and shocked.
+They volunteered aid in taking the body away from
+this almost inaccessible spot. Micklejohn and I led
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>the sad procession of canoes homeward and we carried
+with us in our canoe all that was mortal of one
+of God’s creatures who was glad to exchange the
+certainties of life for the unknown beyond.</p>
+
+<p>“We did not go near the Hall. With the aid of
+the young men, we conveyed the remains to the
+little church on the main road, got the sexton to
+open the church door, but could not arrange for a
+plot of ground for burial.</p>
+
+<p>“Next day by appointment the six young men
+met us and for the first time I learned that God
+frowns on a suicide and that the sacred half-acre
+could not be his resting place. Indignant, I sought
+among the curious onlookers who had sprung from
+nowhere apparently, for the owner of the land adjoining
+the little cemetery, and pressing on him a
+banknote of such size that cupidity overcame disinclination,
+I secured the little six by ten plot where
+you found me. I declined the aid of the minister;
+helped dig the grave and without so much as a
+prayer laid to rest the stranger whose life was a
+living death, to whom death in a terrible form
+came as a relief.</p>
+
+<p>“I wrote McFarlane details of the matter, visited
+the county seat and found that the government
+had never given title to the Blank place. Through
+purchase I added over a thousand acres, good and
+bad, to my estate.</p>
+
+<p>“In due season a letter came from McFarlane
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>urging me to comply with Blank’s request—fit up
+the farm as a refuge, apply my talent as a barrister,
+he called it, in releasing prisoners unjustly or
+overly punished—and enclosing a £5,000 draft.</p>
+
+<p>“I filled out the Craighead estate to its present
+proportions and while at the village one day purchasing
+material for the building of the surrounding
+fence, I sat in court and heard Haig and his
+companions sentenced. This decided me. I worked
+on Haig’s case first, but fruitlessly, until justice as
+the Canadians see it, was satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>“Many sad cases came to my attention. In five
+years I have given aid to nearly two hundred unfortunates.
+Some day the province will be moved
+to a sense of justice and we shall have a commission
+carrying on the work on a large scale. My work
+is insignificant. I must see our representative soon
+and secure his aid in the next sitting of Parliament.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh interrupted his story here to look at Elaine
+who had moved uneasily and said, “Gordon, this
+child is more to me than sister. She seems to like
+you. Can’t you manage to spend the fall and winter
+with us?”</p>
+
+<p>My heart seemed to stop functioning. “This is
+my opportunity,” flashed through my brain, but
+the struggle for speech was apparently so strenuous
+that it attracted from Hugh a surprised glance at
+me. Haltingly I answered, “Nothing would please
+me better, provided my firm will let me off. They
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>certainly sent me on a wild goose chase. Hogarth
+seems to have vanished into thin air from here and
+he stayed here only one afternoon.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps if you arranged to spend a few months
+at the Hall you might by visiting the neighboring
+villages and railway points, even going to Montreal
+and Quebec, our foreign shipping ports, find
+some trace of the man. He certainly would eventually
+return to England,” Hugh said, then added,
+“I must get this youngster to bed. Fong has peeked
+in here twice to see what has become of his charge.”</p>
+
+<p>I offered to assist, but without knowing just how.
+Hugh, frail-appearing, just picked her up in his
+arms, saying, “I shall be back,” opened the panel
+and disappeared.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="I">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">I</span> SOLVED the mystery of the opening
+of the sliding door while Hugh
+was absent. As he had not used
+his hands, I tried out treading on
+different spots on a Persian rug
+lying in front of where the panel
+opened and was startled on planting my toe firmly
+on a tree pattern on the right hand side to see the
+wall glide to the right in front of me. Instantly removing
+the pressure, the panel slipped back into
+place but not before I had glimpsed in the shadows
+of the staircase the form of a man, dim, merely an
+outline, but certainly it was a man’s outline and
+nobody was there when Hugh had gone up those
+stairs a few moments ago.</p>
+
+<p>I was feeling for the particular spot on the tree
+pattern rug when Hugh opened the door of the
+library, evidently having used the front stairway.
+“You look startled,” he said as he came near where
+I was standing looking at the wall.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a man in there,” I exclaimed. “I saw
+him when I stepped on the rug and the panel
+opened.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>Hugh laid a hand on my shoulder and said in a
+quiet, even voice, “Don’t let these apparitions
+worry you, my friend. They come and go, but they
+can do you no harm. The dead roam at will. I have
+seen my father in this room since my return but
+have never had a word from him.”</p>
+
+<p>We sat in silence for a few minutes; Hugh deliberately
+filled his pipe. He had not smoked while
+Elaine was with us. I watched him spread the
+mouth of a deerskin tobacco bag, pour tobacco into
+the palm of his left hand, roll it, then fill a large
+English briar pipe.</p>
+
+<p>“My father’s,” he said, holding up the pipe before
+applying a match which gave out a blue flame
+as the sulphur burned. “Often I have watched
+father sit here and fill this pipe; he would sit for
+hours after mother retired and seldom spoke.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you favor him or your mother?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“My mother,” he replied. “I have none of his
+features. He had a hawk’s beak of a nose and the
+high cheek-bones of a Scot. Mother sang beautifully.”</p>
+
+<p>There came a silence, then Hugh resumed reminiscently,
+“Father used to sing a doleful little song
+to us children. It ran thus,” and Hugh, in a deep
+low voice false in tone, sang,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“‘<i>There was a little dog and his name was Bopeep,</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>He waded in the waters so deep, deep, deep.</i></div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>
+<div class="verse"><i>He climbed up the mountains so high, high, high,</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>And the poor little doggie had only one eye!</i>’</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“That’s the only song I ever heard father sing,”
+Hugh said, “but let me relieve your mind. I see
+you eyeing the panel,” and he walked over to the
+wall and the panel opened wide. There was nothing
+there but the little square at the foot of a stair
+going up to the right from the opening. Closing
+the panel, Hugh said, while resuming his seat, “Nature
+is peculiar. There is nothing between us in life
+and those whom we call the dead. People talk about
+a veil, as though a gauze, something, hung between.
+We make our own veil; we living ones; the other
+fellow can see us but we interpose the flesh, the
+earthly, the human part of us between our subconscious
+self, our silent guest, and the living entities
+who choose to make our home theirs,” adding,
+“Do you know, Gordon, the heathen Japs, the
+Shintoists who place food with their dead are nearer
+the truth than we Christians? We call them forefather
+worshippers. Nonsense! They venerate the
+spirit of their fathers, recognizing their existence.”</p>
+
+<p>“What about food placed on graves?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Not without reason,” Hugh replied, “A reborn
+spirit carries with it enough of the fleshly life to
+set up a desire for sustenance; the emanations from
+food are sufficient, the use of the food itself is not
+expected. Many an old skinflint who has during
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>his life grudgingly given of his plenty for the support
+of proselyting missionaries to Japan and China
+will have a great shock when the doctor has made
+his last guess and the minister has said his last
+prayer and he awakens to things as they are and
+many such fellows will try to find a medium
+through which he may warn his pet heir not to
+follow in his foolish footsteps, and squander his
+patrimony. Much better to use that money helping
+the unfortunates all about him,” Hugh added.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we retire or do you wish me to go on with
+our history?” Hugh asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I could not possibly sleep a wink. Go ahead, you
+were telling me about hearing Haig sentenced and
+taking up your present work,” I responded.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” Hugh commenced, “you of the city
+may wonder what there was for a girl of fifteen
+and a man grown, to interest them. Our servants
+fled when the nature of our ‘guests’ became known.
+The white-haired man, Stanton, was the first to
+come. Others followed. The cook and the maid
+quit as did gradually many of the farm hands. The
+‘guests’ replaced them until after Micklejohn’s untimely
+death almost every member of my household,
+if I may so term them, was an ex-convict.</p>
+
+<p>“Did that alarm Elaine? No indeed. She and I
+enjoyed life in our own way. We canoed, fished,
+hunted. Many a bear and wolf has fallen to her
+rifle and the killing of our most dangerous pest, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>wily lynx, was our greatest adventure. The wolves
+often chased deer across the ice to the great tamarack
+swamp up the river and we acquired many a
+wolf pelt in the deer path. Fall, with the whole
+river a sheet of glass before the snow came, found
+both of us skating for miles, exploring shorelines
+up to where the rapids made the ice dangerous and
+down seven miles to the rapids below us. We heard
+from Alix and McFarlane and in due time came
+news of a Hugh McFarlane, the promised nephew.</p>
+
+<p>“Constant exercise, pleasurable yet hard, toughened
+both my sister and myself. Neither of us knew
+fear though wild animals abounded, many like the
+gray wolf and the lynx, dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>“In the fall of our second year here, a matter of
+land title took me to Cobourg. The journey was
+shortened many miles through the use of the river
+road instead of the main thoroughfare through
+Valleyford, but night travel over the short cut was
+not safe. I thought to try it once as I wished to make
+home that night. There was no moon; no road,
+merely a bridle-path, but my mare was surefooted
+and we were within four miles of home before I
+heard anything worse than a wolf howl and the cry
+of lynx at a distance.</p>
+
+<p>“Something told me to turn in at the Smith cabin
+about five miles up the river, but I had promised
+Elaine that I would return that night, so I rode on
+into a stretch of dense timber where objects at
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>arm’s length were undiscernible and I knew this
+particular stretch of wood as the haunt of numerous
+lynx. I was unarmed, except for a riding crop.</p>
+
+<p>“Cries like those of an infant in pain came from a
+point just passed, then an answer from directly
+ahead. My mare stopped short in her rapid walk,
+snorted and sprang sidewise, almost unseating me.
+At the same instant a great bulk catapulted from
+the limb of a tree overhead, alighting on the mare’s
+back just behind me. I could feel the horse flesh
+under me wince and in the same split second came
+a terrific shock from right shoulder to hip. The right
+hip was thrown up in my effort to retain my saddle
+when my mount had jumped to the right and the
+teeth of the brute had evidently missed a vital part
+as I could feel them tear through my flesh as the
+mare pivoted, again to the right, throwing the
+beast off and I lay low on her neck as she ran madly
+back over the road, dark as a pocket, through which
+we had just picked our way carefully.</p>
+
+<p>“The whole misadventure happened in less time
+than it takes to tell of it and in a few minutes I
+found myself at the door of Smith’s cabin, nearly
+a mile from the place of the accident; even before
+I half fell from the saddle I felt faint but attributed
+the feeling to excitement, but as I staggered to
+the cabin door I realized that my boot was full of
+blood and that I must have help quickly.</p>
+
+<p>“Smith opened the door as my hand reached it
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>and I fell in, knocking a rifle from the hands of
+my host. You must know, Gordon, that my neighbors
+were always afraid of my ex-convict ‘guests.’
+They could not believe in the harmlessness of the
+poor broken fellows.</p>
+
+<p>“‘A bad tear’ Smith called my wound. The paw
+of the lynx had scored me deeply from shoulder
+to thigh; that was nothing. The animal’s teeth had
+sunk to the bone of the right thigh and had torn
+clean out through the flesh and clothing and the
+rough surgery of my kindly neighbor did not effectually
+stop the loss of blood.</p>
+
+<p>“I wished to take a lantern and get on home in
+some way, but Smith bound me so tightly in strips
+torn from his cotton sheets that I could not move;
+while I slept and before dawn the good fellow rode
+my mare to the Hall and I awoke to find a couple
+of men standing over me in the little one-roomed
+cabin.</p>
+
+<p>“I had to be carried to the creek where two of my
+men in a canoe met us.</p>
+
+<p>“I am telling you of this incident, Gordon, as it
+marked a new phase in our lives at the Hall.</p>
+
+<p>“The men carried me to my room; I marveled
+that Elaine was not about, though Micklejohn said
+they had not disturbed her. One maid was still with
+us. I had her summoned and sent her to Elaine to
+say that I was home, had been detained through a
+slight accident but was all right.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>“The maid returned, wild-eyed, saying the Miss
+was lying on the floor with a lot of letters scattered
+about and could not be awakened. With the maid’s
+help I got to Elaine’s room and fainted from pain
+and weakness.</p>
+
+<p>“There the doctor found us and I shall never
+forget the shocked look in my sister’s eyes as she
+saw my ensanguined garments. The doctor had
+ministered only to me. She awoke as though from
+a troubled sleep, gave a little cry, pillowed my head
+in her lap and said, ‘I know all about it, Hughie.
+It is all written there. John Blank told me about
+your accident; that you were at the Smith cabin
+and a lot of other things before that. We must look
+into this thing when you are well, Hughie.’</p>
+
+<p>“I shall never forget that morning, Gordon. The
+mystery of the thing overpowered me. You must
+remember that Elaine had had, subsequent to the
+date of his body’s burial, no message from Blank.”</p>
+
+<p>As Hugh got to this point the clock in the great
+hall boomed the hour of midnight.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we woo the gentle goddess Nephe?”
+Hugh said quietly. “I do not feel like going further
+with my story tonight; merely thinking of my
+lack of good sense during the days that followed
+will keep me awake for hours.”</p>
+
+<p>I breakfasted in my room, having learned from a
+silent young man, who had evidently been awaiting
+my awakening from an eight-hour sleep that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>“Mr. and Miss Craighead had arisen early and
+gone to inspect the work being done on an outlying
+farm.”</p>
+
+<p>I wrote my firm in Philadelphia asking for an
+indefinite leave of absence, that “I might search
+the vicinity for trace of the missing Hogarth.”</p>
+
+<p>The truth is, however, that I wished an excuse to
+prolong my visit at Craighead Hall. I even thought
+seriously of tendering my resignation and offering
+Craighead my services for what they might be
+worth. The work was to my liking but I knew
+while I wrote and reflected that I was lying to myself;
+that my great desire to stay on at Craighead
+Hall was actuated by one and only one thought—and
+I could not under any circumstances put that
+thought into words until I was better known to
+both Hugh and Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>At dinner that evening I heard about the new
+house on a farm, a mile or was it two or more miles
+away? My thoughts were not on farms and improvements.
+Could it be possible that the animated
+girl sitting opposite me had any affliction—certainly
+she showed no traces—seemed much interested in
+every subject under discussion and expressed genuine
+pleasure when I told of writing for a prolonged
+leave of absence from my office.</p>
+
+<p>“We shall have lots of fun gathering the annual
+crop of hazelnuts from the plains up the river, and
+I know you will enjoy skating when the ice first
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>forms, it is so thrilling to feel it bend underfoot,
+though it is quite safe,” Elaine remarked and Hugh
+said, “Gordon, I wish you would consider seriously
+a proposition to become a member of the firm of
+Craighead and Montrose, two Scots, good and true,
+though Scotch people say I am more English than
+Scotch in my tastes and manners.”</p>
+
+<p>I answered that it would be difficult to drive me
+away just now and I ventured a glance at Elaine,
+alas, unconscious of my real meaning—though she
+did look at me slightly quizzically. I took it that
+she thought my remark merely politeness.</p>
+
+<p>I expressed a desire that Hugh should continue
+his story.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh looked at his sister saying, “Suppose we
+walk down by the river, the evening is so glorious.
+Will you come along, Elaine?”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, no,” Elaine said. “I must finish
+some sewing,” and turning to me, “You see, Gordon,
+young ladies must dress even in the wilderness.
+I think Fong is going to prove a good seamstress,”
+and curtseying in an old-fashioned way, as children
+sometimes do even today, she blew a kiss to Hugh
+and ran lightly up the path to the house. We had
+been dining in the little bower in the orchard.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh sent the man in for topcoats and presently
+we were at the pier. I suggested a quiet canoe ride
+and that I should wield the paddle. Hugh reclined
+on cushions forward. His eyes seemed to be searching
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>out some spot in the starry heavens. Perhaps
+they saw nothing.</p>
+
+<p>We were on a lake of glass; the night was warm
+for September. Our house lights had disappeared.
+It was as though there were no other of God’s creatures
+within a thousand miles.</p>
+
+<p>Silence intense; the canoe drifted; I was startled
+when I heard Hugh say, evidently soliloquizing:</p>
+
+<p>“Guests star-scattered on the grass—the atheistic
+tent-maker. He believed and yet did not believe.
+Like all of us, his naturally searching soul was
+shackled through involuntary absorption of false
+interpretations of truths revealed, given cryptically,
+grudgingly it seems, as though the intention is that
+we shall use our own God-given intelligence; we
+must choose at the crossroads. Others may not furnish
+the finger-boards, though that is just what our
+numerous creedists are doing and what they were
+doing for old Omar. Graves arranged in the order
+of the constellations. What we term religion is
+probably co-eval with thinking man, yet how many
+different gestures we find in an identical purpose,
+worship of God.</p>
+
+<p>“Why should a Being Supreme demand worship—the
+thought implies a weakness in the all-strong.
+Laws, by whomsoever or by whatsoever Ruler or
+Force, laws under which man was brought from
+the lower form to his present estate, tried and not
+found wanting, demand respect, obedience, but servility—no!
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>such a thought is repugnant. Perhaps
+old Moses slipped in the little line anent ‘bowing
+down and worshipping’ during the darkness between
+electric flashes on Sinai, just to make his own
+task easier. The Israelites of the Exodus differed
+little from the masses of religionists of today. They
+required a good scare to keep them in line.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh suddenly sat upright and addressed me.</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon, I am going to tell you a strange story—the
+real history of John Blank, covering a decade
+or more of his life. The terrible method adopted in
+his passing out and the mental anguish entailed in
+the contemplation are as nothing compared with the
+man’s sufferings during the period which I shall
+cover. Every word that I shall say to you I implicitly
+believe and so will you, Gordon, when I tell
+you how the story came to me.</p>
+
+<p>“The wound made by the teeth of the lynx was
+slow in healing; it was three months before I left
+my room. Those were momentous months. Neither
+Elaine nor I knew that we were saddling upon her
+a burden seemingly impossible of removal. We
+knew nothing about what is called a medium—one
+through whose peculiarly attuned subconscious
+messages from those known as the dead are transmitted
+to the living. We knew nothing about the
+danger to the medium of the loss of his or her personality
+or that reason itself is endangered through
+such practice. We learned in time that the work affects
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>the medium’s health distressingly but we
+could not quit—every word of this history was
+written by Elaine while under a mental stress which
+neither she nor I could explain.</p>
+
+<p>“At first her appearance was merely such as undue
+excitement would naturally produce. As the
+daily seances continued into weeks, months, she
+gradually paled, faded, lost her appetite, her interest
+in everything except this one obsession.</p>
+
+<p>“The culmination was six months of serious illness,
+until spring came and I carried her to this
+canoe and spent weeks, in fact, the whole summer,
+in diverting her mind. Gradually youth won back;
+lapses were infrequent, but, friend Gordon, she is
+still in danger and somehow I feel that in sharing
+with you our troubles, we shall find relief—”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh paused because I had impulsively reached
+forward and grasped his hand, stammering, “With
+God’s help, Hugh, we shall save her—I love her—give
+her to me. We can travel to cities where there
+must be psychiatrists who have cured other cases.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh looked nonplussed.</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon,” he said, taking my hand, “I never
+dreamed the slightest thing about your caring for
+my little sister. She is only a child; have you spoken
+to her?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not a word; I would not dare, yet,” I replied,
+“I want your assent; I shall stay here until I win
+her.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>Hugh made no reply for so long a period that I
+doubted the wisdom of my impulsiveness. Then he
+said, “You know, Gordon, I am my sister’s only
+guardian. I like you. I do not know much about
+you—but I like you. You will not object to my investigating
+you. I have the means in Philadelphia.
+Supposing we let it rest here.”</p>
+
+<p>Then, after a pause, “I never thought about
+Elaine’s marrying—I shall never marry. My
+chosen work shall be my spouse. Better not say anything
+to Elaine. She likes you but I’ll warrant no
+thought of marriage has ever entered her head.”</p>
+
+<p>My reply was the answer of Jacob to his uncle
+Laban—“Seven years or twice seven would be a
+short term to serve.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh said then, “You must hear Blank’s story.
+Elaine and I are, in some way as yet unknown,
+involved. There is some connection as McFarlane
+has urged further questioning—urged without
+knowing what it means to Elaine; that we
+learn more of Blank’s early life—says it is important
+to all of us—though I cannot conceive why.”</p>
+
+<p>I replied to Hugh, “I shall be patient, and I
+shall not interrupt while you proceed,” and Hugh
+lay back on the cushions and resumed his recital:</p>
+
+<p>“My sister who always hated a lie, told me just
+after the surgeon had left me, sewed, plastered
+and strapped, on my back in bed, that she was sitting
+up awaiting my return from Cobourg when she
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>became possessed with a desire to write a message
+that repeated itself in her brain; she was in her
+room, her account-book was at hand. You see she
+was trying to become of use to me in the handling
+of the place.</p>
+
+<p>“The first message she involuntarily wrote was,
+‘Hugh is at the Smith cabin and will not be home
+tonight.’</p>
+
+<p>“She said she cried aloud, ‘Why?’ and into her
+brain one word at a time came the answer, she received
+just as a stenographer receives dictation,
+without knowing the full message until she had
+written:</p>
+
+<p>“‘Hugh has met with an accident, not serious,
+will not be home tonight.’</p>
+
+<p>“Remember my sister knew at the time that John
+Blank was dead but we had not reasoned as to date
+or thought about the message that came the day I
+found his body.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine said she talked with John Blank; wrote
+the incredible information that he had been with
+me in the woods—had been with me all day; had
+endeavored to influence me to stop at the Smith
+place before entering the wood; could not get the
+warning message to me; that had she been with me
+he could have told her—every detail of the incident
+in the inky darkness was there before me,
+written in that peculiar vertical-stroke writing.</p>
+
+<p>“Some of the messages were repeated and Elaine
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>wrote in for me the questions asked. I was convinced.
+No person on earth could have been privy
+to the circumstances set forth; in fact, I could not
+have furnished details more exactly.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine had slept through sheer exhaustion. At
+daybreak she had awakened, excitedly re-read the
+messages, seized paper and pencil and feeling weak,
+returned to her bed, called aloud, ‘Mr. Blank, are
+you here?’</p>
+
+<p>“Promptly the pencil wrote, ‘Yes,’ and circled
+in a score of minute circles, then wrote, ‘All is well.’</p>
+
+<p>“A sort of obligation, a relationship into which
+gratitude entered largely, established itself in Elaine.
+She had lost all embarrassment at questioning aloud
+and seemed to regard her correspondent as somebody
+really existing.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine had drawn a couch to my bedside on the
+following evening and while again reading the
+messages, suggested that she get in touch with and
+ask Mr. Blank any questions I wished to propound.
+The minx had paper and pencil with her and asked,
+at my suggestion, ‘How were you mutilated?’</p>
+
+<p>“The pencil wrote, ‘The events were too terrible.’</p>
+
+<p>“From that moment I urged Elaine to get his
+history and before we realized it, hours had passed.
+Strange things were being set forth on the many
+sheets of paper that fell from the hands of Elaine.
+As darkness clouded my bedroom I thought I could
+see behind Elaine a shadowy form. My mind pictured
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>John Blank as I had seen him in the flesh;
+but there was no repugnant feeling for the distorted,
+mutilated face. I felt only a great surge of
+pity, even though I did not know at that time all
+that had been written.</p>
+
+<p>“We both became absorbed in the story as it unfolded
+and I feel shame in saying that I failed to
+interrupt as my sister’s face became drawn and colorless.
+She worked until exhausted and slept or at
+least seemed to sleep. I also slept, I think with the
+aid of the drug administered by the surgeon.</p>
+
+<p>“For weeks this was repeated until we had the
+entire story and I laboriously wrote it out for transmission
+to McFarlane while still confined to my
+bed.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh sat up in the canoe and looked shoreward.</p>
+
+<p>“We have drifted past the landing,” he said, and
+I took up my paddle and turned the boat about.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we go in? I’m afraid my sister may be
+waiting for us,” and as I gently propelled the light
+little craft upstream, Hugh mused, rather than
+spoke to me, “The living dead do not seem to differ
+much from the living. They seem to hold on to
+what we regard as the shortcomings of the flesh—even
+to a show of cunning in evading questions
+which they do not or cannot answer; in short they
+are just what they were in the body—no better, no
+worse—but with the ability, apparently, of moving
+with the velocity of light or electricity. It would
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>appear that we are, dead, of the same mental calibre
+as when living, apparently a little more subdued, a
+little awed, as though aware of a loss of something
+possessed when alive in the flesh.</p>
+
+<p>“There was nothing assertive, nothing to indicate
+a greater nobility such as we are accustomed
+to attributing to our dead throughout Blank’s recital
+of his misfortunes. This case may be exceptional;
+the man was a suicide and this has been my
+only experience. I may err in estimating the changes
+ordained by nature for every living creature. There
+are, doubtless, degrees of intelligence and perhaps
+station.”</p>
+
+<p>As the boat quietly glided alongside the pier,
+Elaine, with a cheery hallo of welcome, came running
+down the parkway from the house and walked
+between Hugh and myself. I could feel the warmth
+of her body as we strolled houseward, or was it the
+quickening of my own blood circulation through
+accelerated heart-beats as I thought, “Now there
+is another holding my secret.”</p>
+
+<p>But Hugh gave no sign.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="I">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">I</span>&#8202; WAS awakened by the yelping of
+hounds; my windows, extending to
+the floor, were open. As I stepped
+out onto the veranda in front,
+Elaine’s silvery laugh floated up.
+I peered through the railing and
+backed into my room for obvious reasons, not wishing
+to be seen, dressed as I was.</p>
+
+<p>I had seen the young lady running down the
+pathway to the river with a half-dozen of the
+long-eared, slack-lipped brown man-chasers bounding
+about her. The dogs were evidently getting
+a scent from the blue jacket which she carried in her
+hand, as during the momentary view which I had,
+they started running ahead of her and the tone
+of each held a different note from the yelp of play;
+a sinister sound meaning business I determined, and
+I dressed hastily thinking something was amiss,
+notwithstanding the evident cheerfulness of my
+little hostess.</p>
+
+<p>The dogs had gone upshore, I was certain and as
+I reached the water’s edge, I saw Elaine’s white
+dress a quarter of a mile away; its contrast with the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>fringe of green spruce trees bordering the waterfront
+rendered any mistake impossible. She was
+evidently standing still but I could not make out
+what it was all about. I reached the point which I
+had marked but she had vanished.</p>
+
+<p>I stopped running as a most choice jumble of
+Pidgin English, Cantonese and possibly other varieties
+of Chinese epithets met my ear.</p>
+
+<p>In the precarious upper crotch of a wild cherry
+tree, looking down, his usually sallow face empurpled,
+his eyes like twin moons at the full; indignation,
+joy or fear, I could not determine which,
+was the moving cause until it suddenly occurred to
+me that Fong’s little missie was evidently having
+some sport at his expense.</p>
+
+<p>Seriously I called, “What is the matter, Fong?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mlatta, mlatta,” came irritably from the Chinaman,
+“Plitty soon mad dogs eat this Chinaman
+plenty up.”</p>
+
+<p>I asked where Miss Elaine had gone and Fong
+pointed out through the spruce thicket, “Mlissie,
+dogs all gone same way; soon Fong come down,
+Mlissie say,” and I gathered that the young lady
+was prone to amuse herself as though no black
+cloud hung about. Youth irrepressible, flaring up,
+had brought about Fong’s discomfiture.</p>
+
+<p>He had depreciated the dogs’ ability—in his
+opinion their most useful occupation was meat-eating
+and Elaine was proving him in error by running
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>him to cover and then she had called off the
+hunt and informed Fong that he was at liberty after
+a half-hour or so.</p>
+
+<p>Should I walk back with Fong or should I follow
+the little path through the thicket and walk
+with Elaine? Was it timidity of the dogs? A quarter-mile
+walk with her—it was worth the venture,
+though I doubted not I stood a good chance of
+being eaten alive by the brute escort. My hesitation
+was only momentary. I plunged into the dense
+fringe of spruce and walking rapidly soon came out
+into a more open wood, where hickory and butternut
+trees abounded.</p>
+
+<p>She was on her knees before a great tangle of
+hazel bushes and I stopped just for a second—“What
+shall I say or do?”</p>
+
+<p>She arose, her white skirt gathered by her left
+hand into a receptacle for the hazelnuts which she
+was gathering.</p>
+
+<p>A little startled scream; the skirt fluttered from
+her fingers and the gathered hazelnuts piled in a
+scattered heap on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“A thousand pardons—the picture was so charming—I’m
+sorry,” I stammered.</p>
+
+<p>The startled look left Elaine’s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“There,” she laughingly said, “You may retrieve
+my treasures. I had just commenced picking.
+Did you see anything of poor Fong?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” I replied, “Up a tree.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>She laughed heartily, throwing her bare white
+arms up in an effort to adjust some little strands
+of dark gold, disarranged in the flight after the
+hounds.</p>
+
+<p>“That China boy is a dear; he will never again
+doubt the usefulness of my canine friends; was he
+still afraid?”</p>
+
+<p>“Could not be persuaded to come down for half
+an hour.”</p>
+
+<p>Then she said, “I hope I have not really alarmed
+him; let us return and take him back to the Hall.”</p>
+
+<p>I ventured a protest; could see my chances for a
+walk with her in the balance. I was busily stuffing
+prickly husks into the patch-pockets of my Norfolk
+when Elaine asked, “Why up so early this morning?”</p>
+
+<p>It was not the words. Something in the quizzical
+tone, the look, the thought that back of the question
+was an interest meant much at that moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Your laugh pulled me right across the veranda,
+over the rail, right up to Fong’s perch,” I replied,
+and she said, archly, “Do I laugh so rarely that it
+has such a terrible effect on our friends?”</p>
+
+<p>Then she laughed gaily and for one glorious
+hour before we reached the Hall I watched her
+every word and mood for indication of interest in
+me or a motion that might be interpreted into something
+deeper than the sentiment called friendship.</p>
+
+<p>When we entered the house, loaded with floral
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>trophies, wild and tame, I was still wholly in the
+dark as to whether or not this girl had ever given
+me a thought other than as a guest of her brother—her
+brother—that was it; he seemed to be her great,
+her only interest—her heart was his and no other
+man had as yet made even a dent in it—yet I was
+not discouraged.</p>
+
+<p>I decided I would spend the winter at Craighead
+Hall. My excellent chances with my firm at home
+might go hang; for one hour, responsibility was
+cast aside; there was for me only one desideratum.</p>
+
+<p>That day and evening, Elaine was brilliant, joyful;
+her beautiful, expressive eyes fairly danced.
+One could not bring oneself to believe that she ever
+had a care or an anxious thought. I fervently offered
+a silent supplication to the great God in
+heaven that she should always be just as she was
+that night.</p>
+
+<p>Under the wideflung branches of a lone giant
+maple atop the big hill to the west, Hugh resumed
+his story.</p>
+
+<p>Not a word had been spoken as we leisurely
+tramped up the river’s edge, out through a fringe
+of woods, across a cultivated field, then up, up by
+a zigzag pathway, little used, to the hill’s crest.
+Hugh was unusually preoccupied; he walked the
+last stretch ahead of me and seated himself on a
+bank of green. Pretty well winded by the climb, I
+threw myself down a few feet from him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>Faintly then floated up to us the voices of rivermen
+in song. They were taking in the booms used
+during high water when lumber drives were floated
+down the river.</p>
+
+<p>With chin resting on the palms of both hands and
+elbows on his knees, Hugh sat pensively looking
+out across his demesne of field and forest to where
+the castellated hall of the Craigheads, a set diamond
+in a circle of greenery, gleamed white in the
+evening sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>“I do not wonder,” he said, “that my father
+objected to my reading Voltaire. This is where I
+read <i>La Pucelle</i>—what a terrible impression of the
+saintly Joan it leaves with you! What an egoist
+Voltaire was and yet what a great mind! He
+thought independently, fearlessly. How he ridiculed
+religion! His satire was cutting. Religion, a
+contradictory emotion—dying, tortured, hundreds
+of thousands miserably perishing on rack and in
+dungeon because of a belief.</p>
+
+<p>“What do we Christians really believe? That
+God Almighty threw the unlimited universe—or
+at least our solar system—out of gear that a thieving
+band of unwashed nomads might have light
+for their massacre of tens of thousands of women
+and innocent children?</p>
+
+<p>“This is anthropomorphizing God with a vengeance,
+but the Israelite could not look higher than
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>the wandering old Arab Abraham or the cunning
+Jacob, a wily trader, but God’s chosen who easily
+outwitted his crafty uncle! That’s a long way back,
+Gordon, but the faith and the trait survive—we
+need religion, ready-made. Hundreds of millions
+are comforted by it, whether Christian, Mohammedan,
+Shinto, Buddhist or Voodoo, and all, even
+you my friend, come within its control.</p>
+
+<p>“What is your idea of God? For years I carried
+in my head the picture, a woodcut of a stern-visaged
+old man with whiskers. I saw it in the kirk at
+White’s Corners when a wee lad. I can see it even
+now, yes, and hear the old dominie thunder out a
+denunciation of the ‘use of stringed instruments.’</p>
+
+<p>“Ezra was a plagiarist, Babylon, his birth-place,
+borrowed from the Persian Vedas its story of
+Adamus and Procriti, antedating Moses fifteen
+hundred years, and Ezra borrowed from Babylon
+to furnish a beginning to our book of books on
+which all our hope of heaven is founded. Borrowed
+its garden on the Tigris but shifted to a different
+locale, characteristically purloining the snake, the
+tree and all, but the versatile Babylonian Jew,
+contrary to the ancient Babylonian teaching, made
+a transposition of personages; he pictured man in
+the image of God instead of the reverse.</p>
+
+<p>“I do not feel, Gordon, that Mr. Ezra improved
+things; I cannot conceive of God as a man; that is
+debasing to a low level a Power—the marvelous
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>something ruling the limitless universe with its intelligent
+laws. There is a Supreme Power. Call it
+God or Law, it is in every soul, in every breath that
+sustains life and in every spirit even after the great
+transformation.</p>
+
+<p>“The old Persian version was better; man could
+draw his own picture, make his God as beautiful, as
+sympathetic, as consoling as the case demanded, but
+Ezra, abetted by Moses’ ideas, left us only the
+jealous, vengeful Jehovah to appease and to worship
+through groveling. God is in everything. The
+law plays no favorites; observance brings our meed
+of happiness, health of mind and body; infraction
+brings the reverse.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder what unfortunate cross-current my
+poor friend Blank ran counter to that he should
+have had such an existence on earth and yet should
+find no happiness in the spirit.</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon,” said Hugh, lying back on the grass,
+“The life history of John Blank as revealed
+through his messages to Elaine is incomplete; I
+can give you only that part of the picture showing
+him a man married and having one child, a girl,
+two years of age. The canvas to the left of this point
+is blank. Doubtless many incidents were scamped in
+the fragmentary recital because our sessions—or
+shall we call them seances—were necessarily interrupted
+for sleep and meals—details, often amplifications,
+interested Elaine, who did most of the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>questioning and, of course, all of the writing; consequently,
+I shall tell you perhaps more than is
+necessary for the satisfying of your curiosity as to
+how Blank was mutilated and how he happened to
+become our neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine drew his tale from him reluctantly, it
+seemed to both of us, because he told of his sufferings
+during days of recitals before we got to the
+beginning of his troubles, but I have collated and
+arranged the story in regular sequence as to time
+and events.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank’s home was not many miles from Southampton,
+England. His father had been a rich landowner;
+both father and mother dead, a sister two
+years his junior, a wife and child as I have told you.
+He was apprehended on the Strand in London and
+imprisoned, charged with murder, would not admit
+his guilt, nor could Elaine or I obtain from him a
+denial. He was tried in the Old Bailey, made no
+defense, his counsel pled for mitigation and the
+judge sent him to Tasmania—he called it Van
+Diemen’s Land—for life.</p>
+
+<p>“After sentence, his mind benumbed, he found
+himself aboard the convict ship Success. His cell
+was so small and crowded that he could scarcely
+stand upright; a chain with a heavy iron ball was
+attached to his right ankle. The night was cold and
+rainy and the ship tossed about as it made its initial
+step in the long voyage half around the world.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>“Insensibility mercifully blotted out his first
+agonies. Harsh voices aroused him; dawn had come.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Up on deck’ was the order and as the door of
+his den was thrown open he gathered the ball and
+chain in his arms and joined a procession in the
+enclosed way leading forward. On deck he stood in
+line watching in horror the hideous work going on.</p>
+
+<p>“A nauseous odor reached even down the companionway—burning
+flesh. He could not appreciate
+that men could do such awful mischief to man. The
+open deck was an inferno. Guards with cutlass and
+gun were all about. Two furnaces, red-hot, were
+having thrust into them branding irons. Men
+stripped to the waist were being thrown on the
+deck; irons were plucked out of the furnaces glowing
+and pressed to the palm of the right hand and
+to the back of each prostrate man, leaving a livid
+arrow where white flesh had gleamed.</p>
+
+<p>“Some screamed, many fainted, all were dragged
+to their feet, walked or were carried forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank’s time came; his coat, vest and shirt were
+torn off; even then he did not appreciate that such
+indignity could be put upon him—him, the scion
+of an honorable house, delicately reared, highly
+educated—he was lying on his face; a blow behind
+the ear had ended an attempt to resist; no feeling
+accompanied the burning.</p>
+
+<p>“He found himself on the foredeck, still on his
+face, his back wet with salt water which was being
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>thrown indiscriminately on the score or more victims
+lying near.</p>
+
+<p>“Bread and water only were served him. On the
+third day out he was again hustled on deck, a slip-noose
+passed around both wrists, then drawn up to
+a triangle, and he was lashed with a cat-o’-nine-tails
+until the blood ran down his back, then immersed in
+a tank of saltwater.</p>
+
+<p>“He marveled that he stood a daily repetition of
+this scourging; tried to die as he saw many a strong
+man succumb, the body being pitched overboard.
+Sharks followed the ship on its tedious voyage and
+few days passed without the consignment of some
+fortunate to their mercy. The flogging was a regulation;
+it was imposed on all life prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>“Six months or so later, the prisoner who had,
+from a wish to die, passed to a hunger to kill, locked
+in his filthy den with three others, felt the ship
+come to anchor.</p>
+
+<p>“Hours later he heard the voices of his brutal
+keepers ordering all men to line up for debarkation.
+His door was thrown open. Both hands carried the
+thirty-pound ball as he stepped into line upon deck,
+over the ship’s side—the earth again underfoot.</p>
+
+<p>“Then between files of guards, a wabbling
+march, legs refusing to properly function.</p>
+
+<p>“The march seemed endless. Then through a
+postern, a large yard, into a gloomy hall, when
+nature defaulted and he sank to the stone floor.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>“Dimly he could feel lashes applied to his back,
+but all sense of suffering was absent. He revived to
+find himself in a stone cell, a plank for a bed,
+though he was then on the floor. A window, barred,
+but at least twelve feet from the floor, threw a dim
+slanting light on the cold gray wall. This was home—a
+six by eight room, but Paradise compared with
+the cell on the ‘Success.’</p>
+
+<p>“An officer with two subalterns stood in the cell;
+one had a book, the other a gun and sword. As
+Blank endeavored to arise, the officer said, ‘Name
+and previous station.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘John Blank—’ was as far as he got, and the
+name was so recorded. He fainted through pain
+and weakness.</p>
+
+<p>“Days of stupor followed but after a time he
+took his place with the other convicts on the stone
+pile with a hammer; guards all about, ever watching
+for an infraction of regulations; ever ready to
+lash out with a heavy black bull hide whip if labor
+was not incessant, or if one convict as much as exchanged
+a sign with another.</p>
+
+<p>“Month after month of this until, his health restored,
+his vigor regained, he commenced to entertain
+thoughts of escape.</p>
+
+<p>“One day a convict near Blank, while working
+with head bowed over his pile of stone whispered,
+‘My last week; I sail on the next boat.’</p>
+
+<p>“Blank whispered back, ‘£1,000 if you will take
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>a message to my sister,’ at the same time looking
+involuntarily toward his neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>“A guard back of them plied his whip over both
+backs.</p>
+
+<p>“A flat piece of stone was the medium of communication.
+Secreting it in his clothing, he managed,
+while in his cell by the use of the tongue on
+his belt-buckle to scratch on the stone, ‘Pay £1,000,
+Bring ship,’ and his sister’s address.</p>
+
+<p>“Hiding the stone, he managed to slip it to the
+other convict while in the yard, but in so doing, lost
+his place in the line. A guard noticed his effort to
+regain his assigned position and he drew a month
+at the barrow transferring crushed stone. Dozens of
+other convicts were similarly punished for slight
+infractions of prison rules.</p>
+
+<p>“For a month at a stretch, then back to breaking
+stone, then for another month, he made one of six
+men to strain on a tread-wheel used to turn the
+gears of a mill, walked hundreds of miles without
+advancing three feet because he answered in kind
+when called an offensive name by a guard.</p>
+
+<p>“The work in six-hour stretches toughened and
+the better fitted him for the enterprise always in
+his mind—escape at any risk. The thought of escape
+kept him alive.</p>
+
+<p>“Six months passed with no sign from his sister.
+One day while working in the woods he overheard
+two guards discussing the arrival of a strange ship
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>bound for Australia, blown out of her course. She
+had taken on fresh water, but after staying in port
+until ordered out, she continued to cruise back and
+forth within view of shore.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank dragged the thirty-pound ball attached
+to his ankle nearer and nearer to the fringe of
+woods, ostensibly to roll out cut logs just felled.
+Suddenly he picked up the ball and made a dash
+into the thicket. A bullet stung his shoulder but he
+ran for an hour, ran until, through loss of blood, he
+became faint, halted to staunch the blood flow and
+heard the baying of hounds. He brained one of the
+dogs with the cant-hook which he still carried but
+the balance of the pack had him on his back in a
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Next morning, trussed up to a triangle in the
+jail enclosure, with two hundred prisoners looking
+on, he received forty lashes from a cat-o’-nine-tails
+and scarcely felt any pain when a guard passed a
+lancet down the left side of his head, completely
+shearing off his ear.</p>
+
+<p>“Days unrecorded and without care, for hope
+had fled, passed in a dark cell, then one day he was
+driven, chained in a gang of six, away from the
+prison. Whisperings in prison told of a terrible
+place from which there was no chance of escape.</p>
+
+<p>“There was a narrow spit of land jutting out into
+the ocean, a neck about one hundred and fifty yards
+across guarded by a barracks house, two smaller
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>guard-houses, all of stone and beyond, chained so
+that their muzzles almost met, were two rows of
+ferocious dogs—bull and mastiff.</p>
+
+<p>“The prisoners were marched through a gate between
+the buildings, the dogs were held back and
+Blank found himself one of a company of perhaps
+one hundred men all of whom had lost one or both
+ears; still carrying the iron ball, but free to mingle
+with his miserable companions.</p>
+
+<p>“The freedom of the open space was a joy; no
+restraint as to speaking. The retreat was safe—man-eating
+sharks infested the water on all sides
+and there was not a stick of timber on the little
+peninsula sufficiently heavy for use in making a
+boat.</p>
+
+<p>“A shelter of stone one story in height housed
+about half of the prisoners; the others lived in the
+open, in the broiling sun, except for caves dug in
+the sand, into which they crawled.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank and his five companions slept on the sand
+the first night, then through the attraction of like
+for like, he paired off with a man about fifty years
+of age, a college man, a physician, there for murder
+which he denied having committed.</p>
+
+<p>“They dug a pit near the outer point of the spit,
+using a part of their clothing to hold the sand in
+place. Then commenced the task of wearing away
+the links in the chains attached to their legs.</p>
+
+<p>“Months passed in this way. Finally they were
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>both free of the iron ball but still carried the iron
+bracelets on their ankles and the tedious work of
+relieving themselves of these irons was a not unwelcome
+task; it kept mind and body in action.</p>
+
+<p>“Bread, water and meat, twice a week, placed
+within the line of dogs, kept them alive.</p>
+
+<p>“An organization of the prisoners had been
+formed; a hierarchy of the most desperate; despotic
+but effectual, at least insofar as proper distribution
+of food and the keeping clean of their
+small world was concerned. A patrol of guards,
+twenty in number, inspected the camp twice a week
+but no smaller number ever ventured inside the
+line of animals.</p>
+
+<p>“Killings among the prisoners were common and
+passed unnoted apparently. This devoted colony
+contained the very worst of the condemned desperadoes
+of Tasmania. No man who passed onto the
+spit had ever left there alive. Attempts to rush the
+guards had met with failure and served as an excuse
+for the lessening of the country’s burden
+through the shooting down of all participants.</p>
+
+<p>“The seemingly unguarded mainland less than
+a thousand yards away was ever in Blank’s mind.
+How to get there was his problem. He could swim
+it, but the tribe of finny sentinels showed a dorsal
+and a great swirl if so small a thing as a meat-bone
+was tossed from shore.</p>
+
+<p>“A year went by; the doctor and Blank had hidden
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>away in their cave a mattress of reeds and bits
+of flotsam gathered from the shore at night. When
+tried in the water, it would support only one man;
+they drew straws and Blank won.</p>
+
+<p>“On a moonless night with wind blowing across
+the point and slightly inshore, Blank said goodbye
+to his companion who shoved the raft off.</p>
+
+<p>“Lying on his flimsy support he aided the light
+wind through using his hands as paddles, frequently
+having to jerk them out of the proximity
+of a shark’s teeth as they sported all about him.</p>
+
+<p>“He drifted ashore just at dawn about five miles
+from Eagle Hawk Neck, his recent home and
+found a company of musketeers awaiting him.</p>
+
+<p>“Roughly handled by a petty officer he was glad
+of a two-day respite in a windowless dungeon.</p>
+
+<p>“On the third morning at daybreak they led him
+back of a guardhouse, whipped him into insensibility
+and he awoke inside the line of dogs with his
+friend the doctor bandaging a hand with strips torn
+from a shirt—all the fingers of both hands had
+been cut away, deep gashes were in both cheeks
+and the other ear was missing.</p>
+
+<p>“Despair possessed him; his spirit was crushed.</p>
+
+<p>“Could the wife and child whom he had last
+seen; could they ever again look upon him with
+anything but loathing if he escaped? That head
+without ears—grotesque—those livid scars on face—those
+stumps which once were shapely hands.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>“He kept no record of time. Years passed. The
+doctor died and he guarded his dugout alone. The
+chains and leg circlets provided him a much treasured
+weapon.</p>
+
+<p>“Strange how death passed him by. For months
+he longed for an end to his mental agony but the
+body was strong. He became an officer of the ‘Society
+of the Damned,’ as their organization was
+named.</p>
+
+<p>“Gradually, in whispers, a plot to rush the
+guards was hatched. Almost the entire colony was
+enrolled in the movement. A few of the weaker
+ones were not invited to participate and they were
+kept in ignorance of what was afoot.</p>
+
+<p>“Death sure and swift was agreed upon as the
+price of any act tending to divulge the plan.</p>
+
+<p>“Six months after the first meeting of the conspirators
+all had been provided with weapons,
+mainly a stone to be tied in a trouser leg or shirt;
+nakedness adding to chances of swift running; some
+with sticks and many with shackles hidden carefully
+away underground—a precious possession.</p>
+
+<p>“They patiently awaited a propitious night.
+With a gale blowing from the sea driving sheets of
+rain toward the barracks, the only thing to give
+warning the bright flashes of lightning, the Chief
+sent out his call and over eighty half-naked men
+lined up at the outer end of the prisoners’ quarters.</p>
+
+<p>“All knew that the chances of success were
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>slight, but few of these men even dreaded the shock
+of a bullet or the quick stab of a bayonet—either
+was preferable to suicide.</p>
+
+<p>“An earless man, almost a giant, the leader,
+armed with a camp poker, stepped alongside Blank
+and according to arrangement previously agreed
+upon, the company divided into a line on either side
+of the long building and while stooping low,
+formed two wedges. Blank and the giant formed
+the point of the left wedge and all went forward
+in the darkness across the hundred yards or so of
+space between the building and the dogs.</p>
+
+<p>“The howling of the wind, the downpouring rain
+and the almost constant roll of thunder would, but
+for the dogs, have made success easy.</p>
+
+<p>“Fifteen feet or more from the double line of
+bull and mastiff—a sharp warning bark told of discovery—instantly
+every man rushed forward. A
+rifle cracked. A quick swing of his weapon, another,
+and Blank was through the line of dogs, the leader
+beside him—they knew the weakest spot—the gate.
+Scattering spurts of flame showed that the guards
+were firing but thunder drowned the reports.</p>
+
+<p>“A soldier stood before the gate, his gun at
+present. Blank heard a loud ‘Ah!’ from his companion
+as the gun flashed—all while a streak of
+lightning made things near at hand momentarily
+visible. A swing of the chain with two shackles at
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>the end and the soldier went down. Then he was
+over the gate and running. He was alone.</p>
+
+<p>“The sound of regular volleys and scattering
+shots came back on the wind serving only to urge
+him to greater speed. He made for the sea, ran in
+shallow water for a mile or so, followed an inlet to
+a creek up which he waded until it entered a thicket
+so dense that he could swing himself from one
+tree to another and traveled thus until daylight
+came.</p>
+
+<p>“Rain was still falling. He prayed that it might
+continue and wash away the scent. The trees were
+getting larger; one served him as a resting place
+while he ate the chunk of meat carried in a trouser
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>“Coatless, hatless and with bare feet, he was,
+nevertheless, exultant; the fate of the others did
+not concern him. The years had made of the English
+gentleman a something akin to the most dangerous
+of brutes. One thought obsessed him—escape—the
+life of anything tending to thwart his
+purpose was forfeit.</p>
+
+<p>“He must have walked over a hundred miles,
+going ahead by night, hiding by day, feeding like
+the animal he had become, on roots and berries.</p>
+
+<p>“He reached a broad river and skulked through
+the wood well away from its bank, toward the
+mouth, knowing that it must lead to the sea.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>“He made a wide detour when smoke indicated
+the presence of man.</p>
+
+<p>“One day he saw out in the stream a slovenly-looking
+four-masted ship evidently awaiting the
+rise of the tide. She was headed downstream.</p>
+
+<p>“That was his anxious hour; to show himself
+meant to return to be executed.</p>
+
+<p>“Transportation to a home on Tasmania was
+the penalty meted out to any ship master aiding in
+an escape. Should the flood-tide precede darkness
+he was doomed.</p>
+
+<p>“Darkness found him swimming low in the
+water. Noiselessly he grasped the rudder and
+climbed up onto the beam above it, huddling as
+close as possible to the ship’s stern.</p>
+
+<p>“The ship was well out to sea and it was not far
+from daybreak when he stood up, facing a sleepy
+steersman resting on a wheel that needed little attention
+because of the light but steady breeze
+prevailing.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank said, ‘Speak and you are a dead man.’
+Then he told the helmsman that he could have
+£1,000 if he would hide him until he could talk to
+the captain.</p>
+
+<p>“The sailor said, ‘Take the helm, stand with your
+back to the lookout, he’s likely asleep and I’ll bring
+the captain,’ and threw his oilskin coat over Blank’s
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“‘£1,000 to the captain,’ Blank whispered.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>“The captain and the steersman came separately.
+There was a plea for sympathy, an offer of all the
+money the captain would ask—the purchase outright
+of a ship that the captain might put the ocean
+between himself and old England.</p>
+
+<p>“Blank was installed in the captain’s cabin,
+bathed, clothed, ate a part of the captain’s meals
+and notwithstanding his deformities was almost
+happy during the long voyage around the Cape of
+Good Hope and up the coast of Africa.</p>
+
+<p>“At Southampton, Blank was hidden, his sister
+sent for. You can imagine the meeting? The sister
+was not lacking in fidelity; the disfiguration of the
+beloved brother meant to her merely a call for
+more love, more fortitude.</p>
+
+<p>“The captain resigned his employment, purchased
+for cash at the owner’s asking price, a trim
+little three-master lying in port, became captain of
+his own ship and cleared for Quebec, Canada.</p>
+
+<p>“Two hooded and veiled women, apparently,
+boarded and the vessel went on its way to a strange
+land. Neither Blank nor his sister appeared on deck
+during the six weeks before the frowning citadel at
+Quebec, guarding the waters of the St. Lawrence
+was reached and passed.</p>
+
+<p>“A few miles up the river, beyond the plains of
+Abraham, Blank and his sister Margaret bade the
+Captain goodbye.</p>
+
+<p>“Each carried a heavy pack as they stepped into
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>a small boat and were rowed ashore by the same
+helmsman who first saw Blank on the rudder, back
+in the waters of far-away Tasmania.</p>
+
+<p>“Reasoning that safety was to be found only
+through hiding far from the sea, the brother and
+sister followed the river, making wide detours
+whenever hamlets or settlements intervened.</p>
+
+<p>“It was May when they first set foot on Canadian
+soil. When the leaves began to take on a russet hue,
+they found what appeared to them a perfect hiding
+place.</p>
+
+<p>“To their surprise, perhaps, their guide, the
+river, broadened into an inland sea and they found
+that settlements, cities even, dotted the shores of
+both river and lake. They struck back, following a
+turbulent stream, and found it led them into a real
+wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>“Margaret made purchases of necessities while
+John was always hiding. They existed in constant
+fear of discovery. No spot on earth would prove
+safe for the condemned. The offense against society
+would never outlaw.</p>
+
+<p>“An abandoned canoe, washed up on the shore
+of a back-water or channel back of an island in this
+river encountered in their wanderings, was used.
+They had not seen a village or even a human habitation
+in three days’ walk through dense brush and
+open wood. A paddle was improvised through the
+use of the light ax carried.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>“For miles up the dark stream, sometimes widening
+to a couple of hundred yards, but usually so
+narrow and grown with weeds as to be wellnigh
+impassable, they proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>“A landing had to be made as night was near.
+They pushed the canoe through a labyrinth of
+water-deadened trees, with outreaching arms suggestive
+of myriad gibbets, until they found the
+shore thicket for which they were looking and thus
+they came home.</p>
+
+<p>“Home—home from the proud old family mansion
+in well-settled England to a spot where the
+foot of white-faced man had apparently never been
+planted.</p>
+
+<p>“Difficulty of getting to solid ground, inspired
+the thought of making this stopping place their
+permanent abode, and led to a survey of the entire
+surroundings. It was an almost inaccessible island,
+surrounded not by open water, but by an impassable
+swamp.</p>
+
+<p>“The dugout on Hawk’s Neck, Tasmania, inspired
+their first attempt at a dwelling-place.</p>
+
+<p>“Stealthily, gradually, from a distant village,
+Margaret gathered such few tools as permitted
+the building of a cabin. She bought such seedlings
+as enabled them to plant a garden. A gun became
+part of their outfit and the following spring found
+them busily engaged in making comfortable their
+retreat.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>“As the years passed Margaret dared to go
+openly to a village many miles away. In time they
+learned from newspapers which they bought that
+the prison colony on Tasmania was abolished and
+though Blank’s status was still uncertain, a sense
+of security was established—but from something
+that John Blank’s living spirit would not disclose
+through Elaine, a new cause of sorrow and discontent
+came into his miserable existence; I am sure
+of that,” Hugh said, turning on me his gaze which
+during this long recital had been fixed on the wood
+beyond the open fields and I knew that he was not
+on the hilltop where we sat but at that lonesome
+cabin back of the black ash swamp.</p>
+
+<p>“What a fearful life and what a terrible ending,”
+I ventured. “What became of the sister?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know,” Hugh replied, “but I would
+swear I saw her on the Dover boat, though it may
+have been my imagination only.”</p>
+
+<p>As we walked homeward, our backs to the setting
+sun, we discussed the brutality of the British penal
+system of the first half of the nineteenth century
+and I was surprised to hear Hugh put up a plea in
+extenuation of what to me was unthinkable in a
+civilization so far advanced—a system instituted
+and maintained as late as 1854 by a Christian country
+furnishing us the very laws which I, as an officer
+of the courts, was sworn to respect.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh calmly said, “Yes, the punishment of offenders
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>against society’s laws was as horrible as any
+demon incarnate could invent, though I have a
+conviction that neither the Home authorities nor
+the English people had any idea as to the depths
+to which human nature, both in keepers and convicts,
+descended.</p>
+
+<p>“Abandon hope, except of forcing freedom and
+the criminal becomes extremely dangerous. Consider
+the plight of the keepers, outnumbered by
+their charges, months removed from home and
+help; they could expect no quarter—could they
+give it?</p>
+
+<p>“Fear is contagious; the guards were not of the
+higher type of Anglo-Saxon. They doubtless were
+rightly afraid of the army of the abandoned and
+from the ignorant and doubtless cowardly private,
+the feeling of insecurity crept up through the ranks
+even to the governor himself. I believe that the
+horrors of the rack, with its stretchers, breakers, hot
+irons and lancet was a natural corollary; brutality
+was supreme on the island, though I find no excuse
+for the arrow-branding and flogging on shipboard.”</p>
+
+<p>“Remember, Gordon,” Hugh added, “We owe
+to the severity of the Anglo-Saxon laws the fact
+that we find today more native honesty of mind in
+the Anglo-Saxon than in either the Latin or the
+Slav. The hangings for petty theft—the poaching
+of a rabbit and such delinquencies as would now, in
+our Canadian and American courts, invite a fine or
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>at the worst a jail sentence—bred through generations
+of English mothers a more honest race. Let
+us be thankful—we shall live to see capital punishment
+a rarity. Even my poor friend Blank did
+not suffer altogether in vain.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="T">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">T</span>WO WEEKS—the day had passed
+so rapidly—there was so much to
+observe—this peculiar household
+of ex-convicts, so quiet, so well-ordered;
+a great farm producing
+a good revenue, as attested by the
+immense bins of grain which I had inspected with
+Hugh and Elaine and the many mows packed with
+hay, the ample straw-stacks, well-fed cattle and
+spirited horses—all gave evidence of earnest desire
+to make good on the part of the “guests” who spent
+their evening in reading, debating, and discussion
+of present work and future prospects.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead Hall seemed sufficient unto itself.
+The world outside the enclosure seemed remote
+and yet Hugh’s mail was voluminous; it was sorted
+and cared for by Fred Hunt, his secretary, a fair-haired
+youth who had served time for alleged
+forgery, though to me he protested innocence. I
+mixed freely with the “guests.” To the last man
+they were interesting; they came from the better
+class—educated, many refined; bitterness, hatred
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>of fellowman who had “persecuted” them was
+rare. They were getting a new start in life.</p>
+
+<p>I was surprised to find most of them young in
+years, especially those convicted of crimes of violence—unchecked
+anger. I never arose early
+enough to find the house asleep, and, while on
+duty, the prison habit of silence seemed to cling
+to them—no, not to all—I am forgetting the
+Chinaman.</p>
+
+<p>He talked as freely as though he had always been
+at liberty with boon companions and he was a splendid
+maid-servant and devoted to both Hugh and
+his sister—and I was not a little pleased at the
+attention he extended to me. He was an expert
+clothes-presser—even ironed out my neck-scarfs
+and laundered my collars.</p>
+
+<p>I was at ease, save for one perplexing obsession;
+I lived in a dream—the great mansion with the
+rows of whispering poplars and the mysterious river
+in front, sombre woods all around, enclosing us as in
+an embrace. I lost all worldly perspective; life’s
+accustomed activities became remote—for hours at
+a time my mind would dwell on the strange phenomenon
+observed in Elaine’s condition.</p>
+
+<p>That the dead could communicate with the living
+was contrary to all my teachings, my belief. I asked
+Hugh for the “spirit writings” from which he got
+the details of Blank’s strange story. They were voluminous
+and in a handwriting distinctly different
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>from Elaine’s clean-cut chirography which followed
+the English, square-topped letters.</p>
+
+<p>Everything and more of John Blank’s life history
+as told by Hugh was there; many repetitions,
+as though a question had been repeated; answers
+irrelevant; for instance, a statement from Blank
+that he did not realize that he had passed from life
+through what we call death, until he found himself
+among many strangers; that he had lingered near
+his body, returned to his old home after visiting
+Craighead Hall; he had seen nothing of either
+heaven or hell and was still a dweller on earth with
+man embodied and disembodied and was not happier
+than while in the flesh. In fact, from the disjointed
+writings, I gathered that he was more
+timid and fearful of the world about him than
+when walking the earth.</p>
+
+<p>He had not changed mentally. He had sought
+Hugh and Alix in Scotland, his sister in England,
+could not communicate with her, but “found in the
+little half-sister a real friend.”</p>
+
+<p>Evidently Hugh or Elaine had asked what he
+meant by this statement, as there followed a line—“We
+are all looking for half-sisters or brothers
+who can take messages.”</p>
+
+<p>He was reasonably happy near Hugh and Elaine,
+it appeared, and Craighead Hall was his home.</p>
+
+<p>“Great Heavens!” I thought; “One more silent
+guest in this strange place.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>Had he walked down the broad staircase one
+bright morning I would not have been taken aback
+and, after reading this mass of evidence far into the
+night, I could fairly feel his presence.</p>
+
+<p>I felt that Blank resented my intrusion into the
+affairs of this family and its relationship with him.
+I became an expert in deciphering the difficult writing
+which ran all together with no dots or crosses
+and I left no scrap unread.</p>
+
+<p>Doubt as to the genuineness of Elaine’s communications
+with the spirit fled—but my Sunday-school
+teachings kept bobbing into my head—I
+could not, even at two o’clock in the afternoon,
+while sitting alone in the great sombre library, help
+offering up a silent supplication to the Son of the
+Father for guidance.</p>
+
+<p>There was a stirring of the air in the room; in
+just that mental condition which induces one to
+expect the impossible, I jumped from my chair and
+turned toward the light to which my back had been
+that I might the better read, fully expecting to meet
+the earless phantom.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” I exclaimed and almost collapsed through
+sheer nervous weakness. Elaine, in riding clothes,
+had playfully tiptoed into the room. A vision of
+beauty, but as startling an apparition as would have
+been John Blank in person, so foreign to my expectation
+was this visit.</p>
+
+<p>“What in the world,” Elaine exclaimed, seeing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>my blanched face; then she gravely laughed, if I
+may so describe it, saying, “Throw away those papers;
+don’t let them bother you; they have upset
+you. I asked Hughie not to let you worry over
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>I could not speak for a moment, so great had
+been my shock and Elaine seemingly appreciative
+of my condition, went on, “Hugh and I are riding
+to the village;” and with a mischievous smile, “If
+you could sit a horse for twenty miles and still
+wish to live tomorrow, I would ask instead of one,
+two escorts all through the lonely wood.”</p>
+
+<p>Elaine looked more than surprised when I
+sprang quickly to her and took her disengaged hand—one
+held a riding crop—in both of mine.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Hugh stepped into the room calling,
+“Elaine, we’ll be late returning—” stopped with
+an “Oh, I did not know Gordon was here.”</p>
+
+<p>My reply was to drop her hand, push Hugh aside
+in my excitement and rush for the stair calling
+back, “Wait just a moment while I change.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hold up,” Hugh called, “You haven’t any riding
+breeches. I’ll get you my Sunday-go-to-meeting
+pair; they are too grand for any city bridle-path
+equestrian, but Elaine’s knight-errants must be
+fittingly clad while on exhibition at the village.”</p>
+
+<p>I was upstairs when the last of this good-humored
+speech reached me but it was pleasing—Hugh
+had not resented the familiarity witnessed.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>Hugh brought the breeches and a coat as well, told
+me to wear my vest as the night would be chilly.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m as nervous as a fish,” I said to Hugh as he
+waited while I struggled with a row of buttons on
+the trouser leg and clasped on a pair of my host’s
+puttees.</p>
+
+<p>“Pshaw, man,” Hugh retorted, “There is nothing
+in a twenty-mile ride to get excited about,
+especially while there are three of us,” he added,
+glancing sideways at me.</p>
+
+<p>“It is the Blank writings,” I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh that is it; well you must not let things of
+that nature worry you; they are—that’s all—just
+accept and forget them.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh, on a splendid mount, set an easy pace,
+riding a few yards ahead. I rode beside Elaine.
+The dogs set up a howl as we passed the kennels;
+open fields were traversed; the wood road was
+beautiful; my heart sang.</p>
+
+<p>A verse from a book of my childhood floated
+into my memory—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="verse"><i>I saw the sunlight through the trees,</i></div>
+<div class="indent"><i>Checkering the grassy earth;</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>I felt the breath of the summer breeze</i></div>
+<div class="indent"><i>And my spirit was full of mirth.</i></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The padlocked gate, a road which Elaine explained
+was the “concession line.” What that meant
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>was nothing, but I dwelt on the voice as though
+an angel had spoken.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh had spurred on ahead when we reached
+the main road, and as we approached the cemetery,
+I saw that he had dismounted and was leaning just
+as when I saw him first, on the white paling of the
+little plot outside the cemetery’s far corner.</p>
+
+<p>As Elaine did not check her horse or give more
+than a glance toward Hugh, I made no comment
+but kept beside her. Truth is, I was not a finished
+horseman and had to watch my step with the rather
+mettlesome black under me.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is where Hughie went to school,” Elaine
+said as we came abreast a clapboarded, one-story,
+red-painted, neat little building perched atop a
+considerable hill; the first break in a silence commencing
+at the cemetery.</p>
+
+<p>My answer was cut short through a determined
+but most ungraceful attempt to avoid landing on
+my head on the roadway. My horse had set a front
+foot on a rolling stone as we took the down-grade
+of the hill. He went on one knee before recovering
+to break into a run—and I had my arms around his
+neck—a rather undignified figure, everything
+considered.</p>
+
+<p>When my companion came alongside, she was
+laughing. The gloom gathered at the cemetery was
+dispelled and though the expense was mine, I was
+glad.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>“You should always keep a tight rein while
+going downhill,” she twitted me on my horsemanship;
+solemnly advised me at the next hill then in
+sight; there was light badinage which I answered
+in kind to the best of my ability while we covered
+many miles; but I was always kept aloof from
+anything approaching sentimentality.</p>
+
+<p>A step on the ladder of my dreams—I had called
+her Elaine and she dropped the Mr. and my name
+Gordon from her lips took on a new sound.</p>
+
+<p>Rows of houses with gardens began to show the
+proximity of the village. Hugh rode with us. He
+pointed out the tall spire of the church on top of
+the hill beneath which the village nestles, saying,
+“Four lads in their early teens got ninety days each
+in the ‘Black Hole,’ the village lockup, for shooting
+up that spire when I was a boy.</p>
+
+<p>“Father pleaded for them before the squire, I
+remember; he was the judge who later sentenced
+Haig, but though the lads were merely trying out
+a new rifle and were greatly alarmed when they
+found how far it would carry—they shot from the
+hill across the river—no mercy was shown.”</p>
+
+<p>We were going down the hill; I held a tight
+rein and stole a glance at Elaine; she was looking at
+me and smiling. Hugh knew nothing of my mishap
+and kept on talking.</p>
+
+<p>We tied our mounts in the open shed in the rear
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>yard of the “Myrtle Bank.” Where the name originated,
+I cannot say.</p>
+
+<p>Both Hugh and his sister were afoot before I
+could get out of the saddle. As we walked toward
+Front Street, Hugh was accosted by a scholarly-looking
+stranger and excused himself, saying,
+“Meet you at the post office in half an hour,” meantime
+looking at a thick timepiece.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine dismissed me at the first and almost only
+dry goods store saying that “she did not wish to
+display to me her vanity.”</p>
+
+<p>From my vantage point at the end of the bridge
+near the post office I watched Hugh approach. He
+looked neither to right nor left, though people,
+neighbors, almost, were passing and eyeing him; a
+fine upstanding figure, but the face was solemn,
+aloof, but, I thought, purposeful.</p>
+
+<p>We entered the post office together. Hugh shook
+hands with an alert-looking young man, saying,
+“Mr. Montrose, this is our Postmaster, Mr. Harris.
+I am looking for your father, Mr. Harris.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harris acknowledged my greeting with a
+real, political, come-along handshake, saying to
+Hugh, “The governor will be out in a few minutes,”
+and we turned to see Elaine at the post
+wicket talking to the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>She turned to me, “You remember Mr. Haig?”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Haig, the transformed, was a government
+employee. Certainly Hugh had done a good work
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>here, for the young man, salved and reclaimed,
+held an air of confidence, though I noted the deferential
+manner when he greeted Hugh who put his
+hand through the wicket to Haig.</p>
+
+<p>“Doing splendidly, sir, and all thanks to you,
+Mr. Craighead, and to you and Mr. Montrose,”
+he added, looking at Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>Stepping back out of sight, Haig reappeared
+with a good-sized bundle of letters tied in a package
+and said, “A busy day, Mr. Craighead, I kept
+this one out as it was ‘Special.’”</p>
+
+<p>I noted that it carried foreign postage stamps.
+Hugh started to open the letter, then stuck it in a
+side pocket of his coat as an important-looking
+gentleman came up with hand extended and greeted
+Hugh, who drew him aside, literally by the coat
+lapel, and called me by a glance.</p>
+
+<p>“Senator Harris, Mr. Montrose,” Hugh was
+saying, “a Philadelphia lawyer, sojourning with
+us at the Hall. You will be interested in him. I
+hope to induce Mr. Montrose to associate himself
+with me in my reform work. He will stay with us
+and we shall enlarge our force just as soon as you
+put through my bill.”</p>
+
+<p>The Senator was cold-eyed.</p>
+
+<p>“My dream is that the government of Canada
+will set an example for the United States through
+taking up the work on a proper scale,” Hugh
+resumed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>“I can only operate in a small way. Every man
+turned out of a prison should have a home such
+as Craighead Hall where he can rest and get back
+some of his self-respect, be taught to be decent,
+shown that the world is for or against him only as
+he chooses. The Member who is instrumental in
+passing this measure will have the gratitude of
+thousands now living and a thousand thousand
+unborn.</p>
+
+<p>“Millions of dollars lost under present systems
+of turning sewage right back into the streets will
+be saved to taxpayers through the lessening of
+crime, for I note, Senator, that most of our court
+and policing cost is expended on ex-criminals who
+repeat. Come to the Hall and see a model institution.”</p>
+
+<p>The Senator, an influential member of the Upper
+Parliament I learned later, a typical Canadian politician
+whose very soul would revolt at the mention
+of graft—and yet who could see no impropriety
+in securing for his own son the best that the government
+could give in the way of plums, the postmastership;
+good-natured, but reserved in manner and
+speech, exceedingly proud of self and position, kept
+on smiling.</p>
+
+<p>“I have for some time been thinking of affording
+myself the pleasure of calling on you and your
+charming sister,” the Senator said in a quiet but
+attractive voice which I mentally contrasted with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>the reply which would have been made by a member
+of our Congress not so affable; he would have
+said “All right, Hugh,” with mental reservation
+perhaps and, if no votes were involved, would have
+had ready a good alibi for their next meeting.</p>
+
+<p>Not so this Canadian statesman. There are no
+politicians in Parliament, Upper or Lower, I have
+found—all statesmen.</p>
+
+<p>When invited for a specific date, he urged
+“pressure of business,” coldly, I thought, though
+taking the number of a Canadian Member is difficult.
+He proceeded: “Precedence of other measures
+must be carefully considered before I undertake
+the introduction of such a radical bill—no, radical
+is perhaps the wrong appellation; I think well of
+the scheme, yet it would appeal to many of my
+colleagues as revolutionary.”</p>
+
+<p>I thought Hugh was urging too earnestly. He
+put the direct question finally, “Will you or will
+you not,” in his own straightforward way.</p>
+
+<p>The Senator turned aside and looked down
+through a window at the black stream carrying all
+the waters of a great river between rock walls not
+over a hundred and fifty feet apart—waters that
+moved so rapidly that the surface looked motionless,
+like glass; it required a bit of flotsam, shooting
+past one’s vision, gone in a second of time, to
+dispel the illusion.</p>
+
+<p>The Senator spoke:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>“Gentlemen, the power of that stream is nothing,
+it may be harnessed by man; what power can check
+the human torrent called the mind of the multitude?
+I value my seat. The unthinking, perhaps,
+among my constituents, complain of the inadequacy
+of our laws and courts in punishing crime;
+what would be the fate of a measure in amelioration?</p>
+
+<p>“I but represent the wishes of my people. Petition—give
+me a request in writing from a safe
+majority and I will act.”</p>
+
+<p>He addressed me. “Our laws are respected here;
+punishment for infraction is sure and swift. We
+have only a few, compared with the many varying
+statutes of each state of the United States opposing
+obstacles to the prompt meting out of justice. Our
+criminal laws are good, our judges are fearless
+and our juries seldom permit sentiment to sway
+them. Except in Quebec, our population is Anglo-Saxon—honesty
+and respect for law is a birthright,
+let the Frenchman adjust his own affairs in conformity
+with his moral view; our old Covenanting
+Scotchman would certainly resent the coddling of
+a criminal, even with ‘ex-’ prefixed; our Irish are
+generous, though they make the greater noise and
+cry louder for condign punishment; on impulse
+they would forgive.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Craighead, go after the many Irish in this
+district. Avoid the Scotch and pick your Englishman—a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>few are impossible, many reasonable, but,
+my boy, all are pigheaded and must be properly
+approached or they will never sign up on your
+petition.</p>
+
+<p>“Show every man how the meager tax he now
+pays may be wiped out almost to the vanishing
+point, leaving just enough to afford him a subject
+for complaint, and you will succeed.”</p>
+
+<p>The Senator examined his watch, shot out his
+hand to Hugh, then to me and vanished through a
+swinging door. “I can’t see it,” Hugh said and I
+knew that Elaine, who had just joined us, saw as
+I did a great disappointment settle on Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>We took tea, a light dinner and learned from
+Hugh that he had arranged with a traveling
+preacher to come to the Hall and lecture; I think
+he would have said preach had he not caught some
+understandable light in the eyes of his sister. A
+priest also was coming—it was not fair to “guests”
+of the Catholic faith that they should have no
+opportunity of conforming to their teachings.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh, when Elaine protested at the teaching
+of impossibilities, stressed the point that man must
+have his religion and that he had not found the
+Joss of Fong missing when last he visited his room.</p>
+
+<p>From the backs of our moving horses at the top
+of the hill where the Catholic Church stands sentinel
+over its little army below, lights seemed to
+dance like fireflies.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>Hugh was silent, apparently depressed but
+doubtless thinking out a way for the furthering
+of his work.</p>
+
+<p>As we rode on through the miles, Hugh, a
+horse’s length ahead, only the diapason of hoofbeats
+and the pleasant creaking of leathers conforming
+to the horses’ motions, broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>“She” was near me. I was happy and yet most
+miserably unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>Once, as we came in through the silence of the
+dense woods, I reached across and laid my hand on
+the sleeve of her riding coat. She permitted the
+caress, understood it, I think, for she leaned a little
+forward in the saddle and turned her face toward
+me as though in acknowledgment. I wished then
+that I could have seen her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>It was merely a touch of the hand on her sleeve,
+but the harmonies were awake.</p>
+
+<p>“Jehovah,” I kept repeating, “is in His place in
+heaven,” and the ten long miles were all too short.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="T">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">T</span>HE lecturer did not present an appearance
+but the priest came on
+Friday contrary to Hugh’s understanding.
+The day set was Sunday
+but nevertheless, he was heartily
+welcomed, his horse stabled and
+Hugh proceeded at once to call in the “guests.”</p>
+
+<p>The big bell atop the barn tolled seven strokes
+and within three-quarters of an hour nearly forty
+men were assembled in the great hall awaiting the
+pleasure of the father. Each man was introduced
+by Hugh and I marvelled that he could remember
+their names.</p>
+
+<p>Is there in the physiognomy of the Catholic a
+mark through which one of the same faith may distinguish
+him from the Protestant?</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon, a comparatively young man, certainly
+under forty, went about his work in a brisk,
+businesslike manner, picking out those of his faith.</p>
+
+<p>About one-third of the “guests” were confessed—a
+strange proceeding, transmitting to the Most
+High, through the successor of Peter, the innermost
+secrets, believing that a mortal man has the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>vicarious authority to forgive or at least in a measure
+absolve.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the men went about their duties or
+read; some wandered down to the river to see that
+the boats were securely under shelter as the day
+had grown sullen and the wind had risen to almost
+a gale.</p>
+
+<p>They reassembled later in the evening, before
+the usual dinner hour. The entire household was
+there except the Chinaman and I would not say
+that the Celestial was not hidden within earshot.</p>
+
+<p>In a fine manly way the father talked—not of
+heaven or purgatory but on things present; duty,
+cultivation of respect for self, for others, for society’s
+laws, forgetfulness of old ideas, appreciation
+of a newly regained citizenship—as fine a discourse
+as I had ever heard.</p>
+
+<p>He admonished the men to cling to the faith of
+their childhood, though those of his faith in the
+audience were in the minority and closed by offering
+up a very understandable prayer, full of feeling,
+a sort of summing up, I thought, into which
+he brought the name of Hugh as a benefactor.</p>
+
+<p>I was impressed with the genuineness of the man,
+especially after the “guests” had left the hall.
+Without apology, even hesitation, he accepted and
+drank a sizable potion of Scotch whiskey, declining
+water with the remark that “such a wonderful concoction
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>should, like everything in nature, be kept
+pure.”</p>
+
+<p>Night had fallen and the storm had increased in
+fury. Rain in sheets on the breast of the wind, the
+darkness outside stabbed frequently through by
+flashes of lightning.</p>
+
+<p>“The last of our warm weather; the electricity
+will cool things off,” Hugh suggested as we walked
+upstairs that we might all make preparations for
+dinner.</p>
+
+<p>The father needed no urging to stay overnight,
+but said that he welcomed an opportunity of “taking
+a good look at such a magic palace in such a
+setting.”</p>
+
+<p>We dined much later than usual. There were
+four of us and Hugh suggested the library as more
+cozy than the great hall on such a stormy night. It
+must have been nearly eleven o’clock when Elaine
+excused herself.</p>
+
+<p>The discourse during dinner turned mainly on
+Hugh’s work and his effort to make the salving of
+ex-criminals institutional through an act of Parliament.</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon expressed himself as completely
+won over to a cause which had theretofore appeared
+to him chimerical, if not positively wrong and a
+menace to public order. He pledged himself to the
+cause and it meant much to Hugh as the district
+held many Catholics.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>Hugh, when we three were alone, prepared a
+night-cap of old brandy from the vault. It was, I
+can testify, smooth, but to me, rather heavy and as,
+safe from the howling wind outside, we smoked and
+sipped the mild-tasting amber nectar I could feel
+that Hugh was being drawn into a discussion of his
+peculiar faith, or rather lack of it.</p>
+
+<p>The priest had a splendid fund of good-nature
+and dry wit, but in the background there seemed
+to be an earnestness of purpose which doubtless was
+inherent or the result of seminary teaching, and I
+doubted the wisdom of Hugh’s probable disclosure
+of the fact that he was anything but a churchman;
+it might prejudice the goodly man of the church
+against an accepted responsibility.</p>
+
+<p>First, Hugh confessed that since viewing the
+cathedrals of Europe he had not been within a
+church. Then came the assertion that organized
+churches and such control as they wielded were essential
+to good government as then conducted; then
+he claimed that of course religious teachings other
+than that golden rule of “doing unto others as you
+would that others should do unto you” had no bearing
+as claimed on the “fate of the soul.”</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon seemed to chuckle inwardly as he
+said, “Well, thanks be! I thought you would be
+denying a soul to us poor mortals.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed,” Hugh replied, “I do deny, however,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>that the soul was breathed into Adam or any
+other ready-made human as your Bible claims.”</p>
+
+<p>The father leaned far back in the big leather
+chair, turned roguish eyes to me and said, “Now,
+friend Montrose, we shall just sit and listen while
+Mr. Craighead tells us how we became the possessors
+of souls, for a soul we have, to be saved or
+damned.”</p>
+
+<p>“Too long a story, father,” Hugh replied,
+“though I feel that having committed myself I
+should give you my views, rather, my convictions;
+they certainly do not coincide with yours and I do
+not ask you to give them any weight, but you ask
+for them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never fear,” the priest replied, “though my
+faith is founded on a rock, nevertheless, I want to
+learn the genealogy of the most precious of my possessions.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then listen, Mr. Priest,” Hugh began, “listen,
+not to me, but to your native, unwarped intelligence,
+for, freed from mistaken inculcations you
+have a splendid brain and a wonderful soul within
+you. This intelligence must say that, like the body,
+the soul is an evolved product of nature’s laws. Do
+you suppose that the first vertebrate biped known
+as man carried within him such a soul as you possess?
+How many changes has the body undergone
+since its habitat was the water, the cooling gases
+sweated out from a cooling planet? Many, you will
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>grant, and the soul has not undergone any less in
+number.</p>
+
+<p>“The soul’s origin? In fact it always was, just
+as everything in the universe always existed, but
+everything in the universe, save only the law eternal,
+changes. We do not live from within. We inspire
+life with every breath. The unmeasurable universe
+is as an entity, alive and sending out throughout
+its entirety, life—millions of different forms of
+life have lived and disappeared entirely. Only the
+fittest survive and this law holds today and will
+hold in the ultimate for all eternity, beyond the
+grave.”</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon loudly interjected: “Do you
+mean to tell me that the soul is not everlasting? For
+argument’s sake, but for the sake of argument only,
+I’ll grant you that man came up from the fishes;
+though I don’t believe a word of it; souls are immortal!”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh smiled, saying, “Your Vulgate teachings
+will not permit you to think clearly, I see. Let us
+reason that out. We may only use analogy as a
+guide. Is anything, from planets to that which nature
+builds through aggregation on planets, eternal?
+The soul is as much a planetary product as the
+body. The body of man has attained its present proportions
+through a process of unfolding. How
+many promising bodies involuted and disappeared
+during the life of our world? We find them in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>rocks. The survival of man’s body is probably due
+to the presence therein as a necessary integral of
+the evolved soul and spirit which sustains, yes,
+moulds it. One leans upon the other and helps build
+the whole. If the body may involute, why not the
+soul?”</p>
+
+<p>The father, all attention, exclaimed, “Ah! Now
+I believe you not only read profane writings,
+but you have studied what the New Testament
+teaches. Paul distinguishes the soul from both spirit
+and body, but just what is the soul and what the
+spirit?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” Hugh replied, “and the crucified Teacher
+of the doctrine of love pointed out the absurdity
+of the soul’s awakening only after the bones are
+gathered together on the last day when He said,
+according to Matthew, ‘Fear not them which kill
+the body but are not able to kill the soul.’</p>
+
+<p>“I would say that anything possessing intelligence,
+the ability to reason, has a soul. Reasoning
+has built up a carrier, we call it a mind; whether in
+one part or in the whole of the body. The reasoning
+mind has evolved the soul of man into the purposeful
+entity of today, built it up through aggregation
+just as our planet was assembled. Can you,
+Father Nealon, conceive of man’s wonderful soul
+as possessed by his progenitors of a lower order—back
+to the fish?</p>
+
+<p>“Man reasons through the brain and telegraphs
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>sinews, muscles and organs through the nerves, but
+many times he acts contrary to the promptings of
+an as yet unsubjugated soul, what we recognize as
+our subconscious self—an inner man, the spiritual
+man, in some degree always subject to the flesh
+man, his partner in this life only.</p>
+
+<p>“The degree of subjugation of the subconscious,
+a part of the body of man, yet perhaps eons of years
+older, constitutes the measurement of his evolution
+or involution.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen to the soundless voice of the inner
+man and you will not go far astray. The goal is the
+acquiring of knowledge, therefore, of an all-embracing
+power, though there is no absolute, but we
+are a long way back of it, thanks in some measure
+to untrue religious teachings throughout the world.
+We lean too much. ‘Believe in me and ye shall
+never die,’ as interpreted by the church is stultifying.</p>
+
+<p>“You, father, teach the worship of the God-man,
+Jesus, or at least your teachings are so interpreted
+while the Christ—Truth—only should we
+consider.”</p>
+
+<p>“But the spirit,” the father persisted, and the
+reply came, “A thorough and complete body, Mr.
+Priest, a crystallization of the electrons of an atom,
+perhaps, but we shall never know until Eos throws
+open to us the gates of dawn and then perhaps we
+may not have revealed to us many more of nature’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>secrets than we now know. <i>That</i> I would judge will
+depend on the progress made in our many journeys
+from here to the hereafter and back again.”</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon sat bolt upright. “Do you, Mr.
+Craighead, presume to say that souls come back
+from heaven or hell to this earth and enter into a
+new body? Preposterous! You must have been imbibing
+of the doctrines of Mormon or are you a
+Theosophist?”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh shot back: “Better a book of Mormon or
+Theosophy than the deductions from that other
+book, misinterpreted and spread broadcast during
+nearly two thousand years by ignorant satellites of
+the higher-ups seeking aggrandizement; poisoning
+the minds and bodies—the terms are synonymous—of
+our children; sowing the seeds of fear so thoroughly
+that the child draws it into his being with
+the mother’s milk. Fear, the most horrible of diseases,
+for it affects the mind and the body and the
+soul; fear of God, of punishment; fear of father
+and mother, teacher, the world, himself—throw
+away your doctrine of darkness and fear that the
+mothers of a thousand years hence may have no
+phobia when of their bodies they build a house for
+the stranger; once a dweller on earth, seeking as
+he must another opportunity for advancement in
+the science of nature’s manifestations.”</p>
+
+<p>Here, as a vivid flash of lightning brightly illuminating
+the front of the room was followed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>instantaneously by a crack of thunder, we all stood
+tense.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh leaned forward with right arm extended
+and finger pointing at the father, “Know you,
+father, not in the spiritual essence of the universe,
+not in the natural law, is there jealousy, hate or
+fear, nor hypocrisy. You profess belief that the
+Spirit of Christ walked the earth, that Abraham
+and the prophets became visible, yet if I should say
+to you that the spirit of the living dead has appeared
+in this room—”</p>
+
+<p>At that instant the left panel of the huge French
+window was flung back and there came into the
+room a sheet of water borne on a burst of wind.
+The lamps in their brackets sent up each chimney a
+wisp of smoke and went out; the chimney-place
+gave out a fitful flickering light as the draft brought
+a dying flame to life. I was drenched to the skin
+when I turned from shooting the bolt in the closed
+window.</p>
+
+<p>An awed, shrill cry, “Hugh! Hugh!” rang in my
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>I saw two figures standing just out from the
+wall-panel opening—both in white—Elaine it certainly
+was, but the other figure, a man’s ghostly
+contour—Hugh stepped clean through the man
+and I could see Hugh’s dark clothing as though
+obscured by a mist as he took his sister’s form in his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>arms and without a word disappeared in the opening
+in the wall which closed behind them.</p>
+
+<p>The good father stood crossing himself. He
+made the sign of the cross half-a-dozen times, a
+weird figure in the dying light of the open grate,
+now that the draft was excluded.</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon looked at the spot where the
+specter had stood, looked at the blank wall where
+Hugh and the other specter with bronze-gold hair
+all about the white shoulders above her robe of
+white had passed, and almost shouted: “What is
+this? Am I crazy—am I blind? What manner of
+theatrical chicanery has this crazy man invented?”
+and he rubbed his eyes as though he had been
+asleep and strode over to the fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing to cause you any alarm, Reverend,” I
+said, “that was Hugh’s sister evidently walking in
+her sleep—many people do that.”</p>
+
+<p>I put fresh fuel on the fire and removed my wet
+coat.</p>
+
+<p>Silence for a moment, then the father said,
+“Mysterious! I did not see Mr. Hugh go after that
+voice called his name—where is he? But then I
+saw nothing but the other. My friend, what did you
+make of it?”</p>
+
+<p>“What?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Why! the man who stood beside the girl, the
+big fellow who looked unreal. If I ever hope to
+see a ghost he was here tonight.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>“Miss Elaine was very real; Hugh carried her
+out through a secret entrance; nothing of mystery
+about that; someone left the window unlatched and
+the wind forced it open—”</p>
+
+<p>I was interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>“Man, man, didn’t you see something like a man
+standing to the right of the girl—and that Craighead
+should walk right through it—I saw him or
+I was dreaming,” and Nealon walked over to the
+table, held the brandy bottle between his eyes and
+the fire, saying, “Only a thimbleful gone; not
+enough to liven a sparrow and yet I believe by my
+soul I have imagined everything since the venison
+was served.”</p>
+
+<p>He poured out a brimming glass; it was a wine-glass,
+fortunately, and drank it off, without a moment’s
+hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we seek sleep that our heads may be clear
+on the morrow, Mr. Montrose? We can make our
+apologies in the morning. Probably our host will
+feel relieved at our taking this liberty.”</p>
+
+<p>I readily acquiesced, banked the fire as the wind
+was even higher than when the window blew open
+and the draft was strong, walked upstairs with our
+friend and bade him good night and pleasant
+dreams, at his door.</p>
+
+<p>Far into the small hours of the morning, in his
+room adjoining mine, I could hear him pacing the
+floor. My estimate of this man was unchanged—one
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>of the finest, most manly of men. A good
+teacher, a well-beloved pastor of a devoted flock.
+I wished him for a friend and must say that though
+years have passed, time has only the more closely
+cemented a mutual respect and liking begun on this
+first of his many visits to Craighead Hall. And he
+kept faith with Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>Sleep and I were strangers until dawn. I thought
+of all the tragic things which might have ensued
+since Elaine’s startling visit to the library, yet I
+dared not disturb the quiet of the household.</p>
+
+<p>I prayed—yes, I asked the Almighty to spare
+her—and in the midst of my silent prayer thought
+of Hugh’s contempt for religious convictions—but
+I was only asking aid. The tramp-tramp next door
+became monotonous. The priest was badly shaken.</p>
+
+<p>Day must have dawned—a little rivulet came
+creeping out upon the polished floor, the leaded
+windows were letting in the driving equinoxial
+rain. Slowly, so slowly it crept out and out as I
+watched. Noon was not far off when I awoke.</p>
+
+<p>Rain was still falling, but the wind had moderated.
+As I stood on the veranda sheltered from
+both rain and wind, the latter having veered to the
+north, bringing a most disagreeable chill to the atmosphere,
+I saw the farm carryall, a three-seated
+vehicle with springs, driven up to the front door.
+The curtains parted and there alighted two cloaked
+and hooded women and a man carrying a small
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>black bag, whom I correctly guessed was a doctor.
+She must be ill indeed for Hugh to have other
+women about the Hall—and a doctor.</p>
+
+<p>I found Hugh pacing the upper hall a half-hour
+later.</p>
+
+<p>“High fever, unconscious since a few moments
+after I carried her to her room,” Hugh said in answer
+to my unspoken question, then added, “The
+doctor and nurses are with her.”</p>
+
+<p>“What was the cause?” I inanely asked.</p>
+
+<p>“A dream,” Hugh replied. “One of those terrible
+visitations—said Alix must have died as she
+had seen her on a boat with water all about; you
+know, Gordon, how unnatural she becomes during
+one of those visitations. Well, this was the strangest
+condition of mind I have ever witnessed in her.
+Seemed as though she was absolutely asleep downstairs
+and when I laid her on her bed and drew the
+blanket over her she was cold and still.</p>
+
+<p>“I tell you, man, I was alarmed until I saw her
+eyelids quiver—then she said, ‘Alix is dead; I saw
+her on a boat; water all about,’ then became unconscious
+but her breathing deceived me into thinking
+she was as usual after a visitation, merely sleeping
+and I think I slept while watching her.</p>
+
+<p>“This morning at daybreak, her flushed face and
+pulse spelled fever; I sent for a doctor and day
+and night nurses. This may be serious.</p>
+
+<p>“I believe that in some way her spirit crossed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>over to Scotland, was out of her body for a time,
+though I have never heard of such a thing—”</p>
+
+<p>The doctor approached, coming from the corridor
+leading to Elaine’s room.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Montrose, Dr. Parsons,” Hugh introduced
+us.</p>
+
+<p>The medical man of middle age carrying a
+stethoscope in his left hand extended to me his
+right, saying more to Hugh than to me, “Organically
+perfect; the cerebro-spinal axis appears to be
+the seat of the trouble; I find no indication of infection.
+Can you send blood samples to my laboratory
+assistant?”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh said, “Certainly, at once,” and I insisted
+upon being the messenger; said it would ease my
+mind, and the doctor interposed, while looking me
+over critically, “Let him go, Mr. Craighead. The
+analyst may say something which he would not
+write in his report, besides your friend needs a few
+hours in which to pick himself up. Where do I
+camp? I shall stay here tonight,” the doctor added.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh turned to me. “Will you show him to the
+room adjoining yours?”</p>
+
+<p>“The priest?” I queried.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Father Nealon went in the carryall this
+morning; I shall send his horse as soon as weather
+permits,” Hugh replied.</p>
+
+<p>I was pulling on a raincoat when the doctor unceremoniously
+opened my door and without any
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>preliminary, said, “Young man, there is something
+peculiar about this young person’s case. Has she
+had some great shock—exhaustion of nerves; unaccountably
+high fever with no history—the mariner
+cannot navigate without his chart—out with
+it—I can see it in your eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>Should I let another, a stranger from the world
+outside into the close-guarded, secret affliction? I
+weighed the matter a moment, then said, “Doctor,
+the young lady is evidently a sleep-walker; she
+came into the library last night, sound asleep.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes,” he replied, “but there is something
+back of that; I’ll have to quiz Craighead. Now off
+with you and get back pronto,” and he whisked out
+of my room.</p>
+
+<p>Every mile of the way recalled that recent joyous
+ride of but a few days ago; but the rain continued
+to beat upon the supposedly waterproof covering
+of the wagon.</p>
+
+<p>I sat with the driver and scarcely a word was
+spoken. Wet through, I hastened to Dr. Parsons’
+office and handed the small box entrusted to my
+care to a thin-faced, spectacled young man. I fully
+expected a shock. It seemed to me that I was carrying
+the life-blood of her whom I worshipped.
+There was only a small piece of lint—I did not
+even see the blood smear on it.</p>
+
+<p>“Hurry with this,” I said to the analyst who,
+in reply, merely looked me over through his spectacles,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>turned on his heel and passed into an inner
+room.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours later, stiff and annoyed, I got painfully
+to my feet as the man came into the cold,
+comfortless office and handed me a sealed letter directed
+to Dr. A. W. Parsons.</p>
+
+<p>“What did you find?” I queried. “All in there,”
+the man returned, pointing to the letter, adding as
+he turned about, “Good day.”</p>
+
+<p>The wagonette awaiting me under the hotel shed
+set off homeward at once. About three miles out
+the road passed through a cedar swamp. I remember
+noting the drooping, forlorn appearance of the
+trees as I peered out between the curtains. Their
+bleak outline took on many fantastic shapes, all
+gloomy. A sharp pain shot through under my left
+shoulder blade and I remembered nothing more
+until a week later when I opened my eyes to find
+a pleasant-faced young woman standing beside my
+bed, a bottle in one hand and a spoon in the other.
+I tried to sit up, but while I willed to do so, my
+body did not move; nor could I recognize my
+feeble voice as my own when I essayed to speak.</p>
+
+<p>The nurse put her finger on her lips and said,
+“Quiet; not a word; do not try to move;” then,
+turning toward a couch out of my line of vision,
+“Doctor.”</p>
+
+<p>I could hear a grunt as though of somebody just
+awakened.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>“Doctor, the brandy did it; he is conscious,” and
+next moment the doctor, Parsons, had fingers on
+my wrist and stood over me looking at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to ask, but “Elaine” was all that I could
+whisper. The doctor’s heavy black eyebrows seemed
+to meet, notwithstanding the great gulf I thought
+had once separated them as he looked fiercely at
+me and said, “Young man, if I hear a peep out of
+you again for twenty-four hours, I’ll take away this
+good-looking young lady and leave you to Fong
+Wing with his devil papers and punk sticks.</p>
+
+<p>“Estelle,” he added, addressing the nurse, “did
+you smell that devilish heathen’s incense? I threw
+the whole mess, god and all, out the window.”</p>
+
+<p>The nurse leaned over near me and said, “Miss
+Elaine is well out of danger but you have had a
+serious week—pneumonia—but the fever has
+broken; you will be able to convalesce together.
+Now take this and go to sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was in next day. The doctor seemed to
+blame me for keeping him prisoner at the Hall.
+Strength to get out of bed had not returned. I kept
+no account of the passing of time. Sleep—I seemed
+to sleep always, but one memorable day, I started
+wide awake to find <i>her</i> sitting on the outer edge
+of my bed.</p>
+
+<p>I spoke her name. She was so fragile, so pale,
+the great mass of gold coiled about her white brow
+accentuated the size and luster of her glorious
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>eyes. If there was ever a face that showed a soul in
+agony, I was gazing into it.</p>
+
+<p>She laid her little white hand on mine and whispered
+rather than spoke, “Oh, Gordon, I’m so glad
+you are going to be well soon,” and when I tried to
+say what was in my heart—just “I love you,” the
+words would not come.</p>
+
+<p>She placed the palm of her hand on my lips and
+held it there a moment and then I sensed rather
+than heard others come into the room. There was
+a glad cry, a woman’s voice, an answering hysterical,
+“Alix! Alix!” the semblance of a struggle and the
+other woman calling frantically, “Hugh, Hugh,
+James!” laid Elaine in a dead faint across the foot
+of my bed.</p>
+
+<p>I sat up and looked first at Elaine, then at the
+frantic woman almost lying upon her, with both
+hands holding tight Elaine’s white face. Hugh followed
+by a stranger ran into the room. Hugh
+looked just an instant, then pulled Alix aside, but
+it was the Chinaman who appeared from nowhere
+with a glass of water, a portion of which he dashed
+into Elaine’s face. I had made such headway
+toward recovery that the nurse had gone downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>The others gone, the stranger lingered, pulled
+a chair to my bedside and introduced himself
+quietly as though nothing had happened.</p>
+
+<p>“James McFarlane,” he said. “We came over
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>the river a few minutes ago and walked in on Hugh
+at lunch. My wifie couldn’t wait; the girl was daft
+to see her little sister; she made a mess of it, but—”
+he added, “it’s a natural emotion.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope it will not give her a setback,” I replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Never fear; joy does not kill,” he answered,
+then, taking a good look at me, said, “Mon, ye look
+peaked. When ye are weal enow I want a talk wi’
+ye about Hugh and his affairs. The lad needs a
+friend.”</p>
+
+<p>I assured him that I was fit, but he said the morrow
+or next day would do, carefully adjusted the
+covering on my bed, put the chairs back in place
+and as the nurse came in said, “I shall resign now
+that ye hae better company,” bowing toward tyrannical
+Estelle who doped me with eggnog, fixed my
+pillows so that I could sit up and then at my request,
+sought out the other invalid and brought me the
+reassuring message that Miss Elaine was none the
+worse for her experience and was busy in converse
+with her sister.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/e.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="E">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">E</span>LAINE came next day, but not
+alone. The sister was more like
+Hugh; had blue eyes and dark hair—a
+beautiful woman whose thirty-odd
+years—I shall not be too exact—with
+their inevitable accumulation
+of weight had merely rounded out a splendid
+figure and, in my judgment, accentuated rather
+than diminished her attractiveness.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh had no recollection of getting any letter
+from McFarlane notifying him that the family
+was about to sail for Canada until I mentioned the
+official-looking document with foreign stamps
+which he had put in a side pocket of his coat while
+we were in the post office. A search was made but
+it could not be found.</p>
+
+<p>“Mac” as I mentally dubbed him—though in
+our frequent meetings during the week before he
+sought me out for counsel I always addressed him
+as Mr. McFarlane—“Mac” readily explained
+seemingly to his own satisfaction though not to
+mine, that Elaine’s vision was but a dream, a coincidence,
+“maybe a sort of thought transference,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>as he put it.</p>
+
+<p>By appointment made the day previous I met
+Mac in the library where, as he expressed it, “we
+shall be oot o’ earshot o’ a’ the pryin’ silent anes
+wha spring oot o’ the floor and harry the nerves
+o’ ane.”</p>
+
+<p>The reunited family was at the village. The
+“wee bairnie,” a lusty youngster, much taken with
+Fong, was out at the stables with the Chinaman
+who seemed to have transferred his allegiance from
+Elaine to the rosy-cheeked young Scot.</p>
+
+<p>I must confess that for a whole week I had
+thought of little else than that something portentous
+was impending which would disturb the
+promise to me of an ideal life here at Craighead
+Hall. I had builded many a castle but they were all
+of limestone and set into the side of a hill.</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane’s manner was constrained. “Mr.
+Montrose, I hae deliberated long, hae sounded
+Hugh as to his feelin’s toward ye, looked at the
+situation from all angles and now, mon, I ask ye
+as a counsellor and as a friend of all parties in interest
+for your best advice,” was the opening.</p>
+
+<p>“Trust me fully,” was my reply, the thought
+arising that some crime or physical taint attaching
+to Hugh was about to be disclosed. It surely could
+not involve Elaine?</p>
+
+<p>Mac shifted his position from the use of a polished
+oak table as a rest for his elbows to one in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>which he leaned back in the large chair, placing his
+face in shadow.</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose, are ye capable o’ carryin’ on here
+should Hugh be called away?”</p>
+
+<p>My worst imaginings almost confirmed, I asked
+anxiously, “What has Hugh done?”</p>
+
+<p>I could not see the expression on Mac’s face until
+he leaned forward; then I read doubt as to whether
+or not I was the right person in whom to confide.</p>
+
+<p>“Dash it, Montrose, ye hae the wrong slant. I
+merely wish to know if ye think yoursel’ capable o’
+carryin’ on the farm’s management and keepin’
+the pack o’ malefactors from killin’ ane anither
+durin’ Hugh’s absence.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh yes, I could do that if necessary, but why
+should Hugh give up his work?”</p>
+
+<p>“A’ in good time, my friend; I’ll tell ye a’; but
+do ye think ye could do what Hugh is doin’, help
+more o’ the rascals to an easy berth?” he came back.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, my practise is criminal law. I would like
+that work, but I am no farmer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then ye could trust the farm management to
+a gude overseer such as old Hallowed was when I
+took Hugh and Alix to Scotland,” Mac said, adding,
+“That settled, I’ll proceed—but ye must hae
+patience and don’t interrupt.”</p>
+
+<p>I settled back, prepared to curb my impatience;
+it seemed the only way. McFarlane at times lapsing
+into broad Scotch, continued, “Hugh Craighead’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>father, like Hugh, was a graduate of Edinburgh
+University. There were two Craigheads, Alexander
+Junior and James, twins, and they, as far as I can
+learn, were well-behaved lads, brought up i’ the
+fear o’ God by old Alexander, a regular Covenanter
+who lived in Hill Head, just across the Kelvin
+from Glasgow.</p>
+
+<p>“The father was a stern parent, exacting, intolerant
+and unforgiving; a bad combination as ye
+shall witness as I proceed, friend Montrose.</p>
+
+<p>“Another lad about the same age lived with the
+boys in the same dormitory, the object being to cut
+down expenses so that something of the old man’s
+allowance would be left them.</p>
+
+<p>“Alexander Senior was a close-fisted old Scotchman
+though he had plenty and to spare. The three
+boys became close friends and graduated together.
+Before separating, the Craigheads to return to
+Glasgow and the other lad to England, they agreed
+to return to the university for a post-graduate
+course.</p>
+
+<p>“The Craigheads returned, but their friend met
+a young lady in London and married. He took
+quarters in London and the boys received frequent
+invitations to come there as his guest. He wished to
+have them meet his wife of whose beauty of soul
+and body he filled his letters.</p>
+
+<p>“Later the urge was stronger; a little girl had
+been born and pride in paternity made him even
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>more insistent. The Craigheads had never been in
+London. They were boning down on a course in
+law; the old man would not appreciate their natural
+desire to take even a week’s holiday. To him it
+would have meant a useless waste of good money.
+No man needed any friend other than Pounds Sterling
+was his theory, so the boys having a few pounds
+saved up, hied themselves southwestward, failing
+to let the old man know that they were not busy in
+Edinburgh.</p>
+
+<p>“Their visit to the college chum was necessarily
+brief, but so pleasant that when vacation season
+came and they were furnished with funds for a
+continental trip as a part of their educational course,
+they spent three days in Paris; the fourth found
+them with Mr. and Mrs. Blankleigh in London.”</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane at this point paused and with inquiry
+in his eyes glanced keenly at me but as nothing he
+had recounted was startling I was all impatient to
+learn where Hugh’s connection commenced.</p>
+
+<p>Then he resumed: “London, with its fingerprints
+of history reaching away back through centuries,
+its gay night life; and the affection the twins
+felt for their host and hostess kept them in the old
+city for over two months while the grim old man
+at Hill Head speculated on how much they were
+absorbing of continental affairs that would be of
+utility in increasing their ability to make money.</p>
+
+<p>“Of the two boys perhaps the hostess preferred
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>the company of Alexander—‘Sandy’ his friends
+called him. They frequently visited points of interest
+together, while James and John after visiting
+the office of the latter would attend a boxing match
+or visit a variety show matinee.</p>
+
+<p>“Because the hostess preferred home and her
+baby girl, she seldom accompanied the boys in their
+night prowls and frequently Sandy stayed at home
+for company.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Mr. Montrose, God knows that was
+natural enough, as James had a bent for pokin’ into
+the odd places at night. John was of the same mind.
+You must remember that he was newly married,
+only a little more than a couple of years and until
+his friends came, London at night was to him as
+much an unknown country as it was to the Craigheads.
+Newmarket, Chinese runaways, the quarters
+of sailors near the river, the underworld of a great
+metropolis, kept these two boys absorbed; often
+times they were out most of the night. Alexander
+seemed to care nothing for all this, preferring a
+quiet evening at home.</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose, I’m not a suspicious mon,” McFarlane
+shot at me as though I had questioned the
+propriety of Alexander’s spending his evenings
+with his hostess, “and, Montrose, I’m not criticizin’
+onybody, nor makin’ aspersions,” he resumed, “but
+one night when both Craighead boys were out,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>John, havin’ stayed at home, a terrible thing happened.</p>
+
+<p>“James Craighead was leavin’ a theater on the
+Strand about eleven o’clock that night; just as he
+stepped across the walk to enter a cab, his friend
+Blankleigh, with eyes blazin’ like a madman’s, eyewitnesses
+testified, shot him through the heart, then
+threw the pistol into the gutter and stood wi’ arms
+folded until seized by a policeman.</p>
+
+<p>“When the murdered mon, who the witnesses
+said was facin’ the murderer and smilin’, fell on
+his face, his head a’most touched Blankleigh; somebody
+turned him onto his back and when Blankleigh
+saw the face of the twin and recognized that
+it was James, he said, ‘My God! what hae I done,’
+and struggled to recover the weapon but the police
+snapped handirons on and carried him off to prison.</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose, I spent months gettin’ all the details
+o’ this period in the life and trial of John Hogarth
+Blankleigh—”</p>
+
+<p>“Hogarth!” I yelled, bringing McFarlane fairly
+out of his chair; “Hogarth! why Hogarth is my
+reason for being here; what is his connection with
+this history?”</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane leaned forward saying, “Mon, mon,
+ye’re overly excited; perhaps ye are too late ailin’
+to hae the judgment ye need to advise me.”</p>
+
+<p>He listened patiently while I explained my errand
+to Craighead Hall, then said, “It’s merely a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>middle name; there are aplenty o’ Hogarths in
+England. If ye interrupt me like that ye’ll never
+hear me through.</p>
+
+<p>“It seems,” he resumed, “that John intended the
+bullet for Alexander; the boys were verra much
+alike in height and build and probably, though
+there was no evidence adduced at the trial, he was
+crazed through jealousy of Alexander. He rotted
+in prison for months, never speakin’ to a soul;
+would not permit his wife e’en to see him when
+she recovered from an almost fatal sickness.</p>
+
+<p>“At the bar of Old Bailey he pleaded guilty and
+was sentenced to spend the remainder of his life
+in the penal colony called Van Diemen’s Land—he
+never saw wife or child again.”</p>
+
+<p>As McFarlane talked, my mind traveled back to
+Hugh’s story. I heard and yet did not hear the
+Scotchman speaking. Things began to piece themselves
+together in my brain—a patchwork quilt.</p>
+
+<p>I sat dreaming, but Mac’s eyes were evidently
+upon me as he said, “Mon, mon, are ye heedin’ me;
+ye ken this John Hogarth Blankleigh was your
+John Blank, Hugh’s friend and I hae his story,
+e’en to his queer doin’s since his death, though I
+don’t hold to such things—they are uncanny
+machinations of auld clutie.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go ahead,” I said, “I am all attention and shall
+not interrupt again.”</p>
+
+<p>Mac settled back, saying, “Ye didna interrupt,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>but ye canna sense a thing when your wits are awa’
+wool-gatherin’.”</p>
+
+<p>I remained quiet.</p>
+
+<p>“The deeil was to pay at Hill Head when the
+auld man Craighead got word that his son James
+was deed,” resumed McFarlane.</p>
+
+<p>“The newspapers printed the usual sensational
+news. Nobody saw the bereaved auld mon when he
+read that the cause of his son’s death was jealousy,
+though Blankleigh had ne’er said ane word but
+‘Guilty,’ the papers made out that it was well
+founded, Alexander and Mrs. Blankleigh havin’
+been seen togither overmuch.</p>
+
+<p>“We may only guess at the old man’s line of
+reasonin’. Every copy of the London and Glasgow
+papers containin’ anythin’ aboot the case was carefully
+filed and rested in his strong box at the time
+of the death—yes, and long after.</p>
+
+<p>“Think of the shock; he thought of his boys
+about to return, broadened through the experience
+that comes of continental travel, and learned that
+they had been in London all the time. Nobody
+ever knew his feelin’s. Doubtless in his stern way,
+his twin boys, for whom the mother had given her
+life, meant as much to this lone auld mon as do
+children to other parents, but he was silent.</p>
+
+<p>“He sent for his solicitor, willed awa’ all property
+not subject to entail; disinherited the survivin’
+son after givin’ him fifty thousand pounds
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>sterlin’—and his curse. He refused to see Alexander
+who went home to seek forgiveness; had him
+turned awa’ at the gates which were locked against
+every man, with instructions to see his solicitor.</p>
+
+<p>“He died some fifteen or saxteen years afterward
+never havin’ set eyes on his boy from the day
+the twins left for the Hook of Holland on their
+holiday trip.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Mr. Montrose, pay attention; here is the
+delicate and most difficult business that brought me
+across the water. Over nine months, the register
+says, after the date of the murder of James Craighead,
+Ruth Blankleigh gave birth to a boy—that
+boy is known to you as Hugh Craighead.”</p>
+
+<p>“My God, McFarlane, can this be possible?” I
+said in an awed whisper. “Illegitimate—Hugh illegitimate?
+Why the man is noble, proud—what
+will this mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, that’s the rub, mon, that’s what I’m askin’
+ye—how can we break it to him?” McFarlane dejectedly
+replied. “I’m marrit to his sister, Blankleigh’s
+first born, but oh, mon, she’s made o’ different
+stuff. Ye ken Hugh was alys pulin’ as a boy.
+I reared him wi’ the help o’ God and his sister Alix,
+frae a wee laddie to man’s estate. He was always
+a sensitive youth—even Alix doesna ken how to
+deal wi’ him.”</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane fell into a moody silence, then added,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>“The birth-register; an’ I could hae laid eyes on it
+first, the date would not hae so registered.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me all,” I said, “Did Craighead acknowledge
+him as his son?”</p>
+
+<p>Yet, I reflected, which was the more consoling
+thought, to acknowledge sonship to a man humiliated
+as Blank had been or to bear the stain of illegitimacy?
+Then the mother, the sainted mother of
+Hugh’s tenderest memory—what of her? And I
+could see no light.</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane was again proceeding in his inimitable,
+even, yet jerky enunciation. “A year later,
+Alexander Craighead married the widow of John
+Hogarth Blankleigh, for the law of England held
+the felon as dead as though sax feet beneath the
+sod. He adopted both children, Alix and Hugh,
+and the papers in the proceedin’ affirm that both
+are the issue of John and Ruth Blankleigh and by
+my hope of heaven, Montrose, I believe this true,
+save for the pesky birth-book—but how to make
+the world believe it is beyond me and I am afraid
+of how Hugh will take it.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is very much a man,” I interposed, “though
+the stain on his mother’s name is a bad feature.”</p>
+
+<p>“Weel, weel,” McFarlane resumed. “We shall
+see. Anyway, the young ane was Craighead’s chield,
+that’s certain. She doesna resemble either Hugh or
+my wife; I refer to Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>“When Hugh’s father—by adoption I mean,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>corrected Mac, “came over to Scotland on learnin’
+that the auld mon was deed, he found the property
+so tied up that he couldna get anywhere in a settlement.
+I think hadna auld Alexander died suddenly,
+he would hae had Hill Head plastered with squatter’s
+titles as a hindrance to his son’s succession.</p>
+
+<p>“I was employed by Hugh’s adopted father in
+the disentanglement of his affairs and we were in
+the midst of the work when my client was found
+dead on the far side of the sheep pasture. He had
+been thrown from a horse that he had ridden for
+months. The beast was grazin’ nearby when the
+shepherd saw him—no accountin’ for such things.</p>
+
+<p>“Poor Mrs. Craighead, husband gone, children
+in Canada, and about to become a mother. The
+shock killed her, Montrose. She wouldna hear of
+anythin’ except that I go bring her bairns, just as
+though they were in the next shire.</p>
+
+<p>“That was a great adventure for me, and oh
+mon, when I set eyes on that girl Alix down at the
+pier at this very spot; when I saw how masterful
+she was, my mind was made up; she should be
+mine, whether or no. She took a lot of persuadin’
+though, and would not permit me to become a comfortable
+married man for years.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hugh has recounted the bringing up of Elaine
+and himself,” I said.</p>
+
+<p>“You should hae seen the boy take o’er the property
+of auld Sandy Craighead though,” the Scot
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>resumed. “The old surrogate was opposed to it, but
+the law was wi’ me and at that time, three hundred
+thousand pounds came to Hugh—yes, the children
+are rich beyond their needs, but there is anither
+estate that belongs to Hugh—the estate of old
+John Blankleigh, through his son John H., who
+lost his entail, it was claimed when he was declared
+a felon.</p>
+
+<p>“It was a pretty pickle I found when I first
+undertook to unravel the thing. Hugh, if legitimate,
+was, in law, a posthumous child as he came to
+the mother after the father’s conviction and there’s
+the damnable birth-record which must be corrected,
+and that’s what will save the estate or I am no
+solicitor.</p>
+
+<p>“He must go to England and lay claim to his
+own and it’s a pretty property, a thousand broad
+acres and a manor-house that puts this old castle
+to shame.”</p>
+
+<p>“When did you first learn that the children were
+adopted son and daughter?” I interposed.</p>
+
+<p>“An auld servant gave me the first hint,” Mac
+responded. “When I came here after the children
+they were Craigheads as far as I knew; though I
+was his counsellor he never said otherwise—had I
+not been clean daft coortin’ Alix for years I would
+hae been wise to the situation much earlier.</p>
+
+<p>“I found in an old strong box the newspaper
+articles relatin’ to the case of John Blankleigh and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>pieced the whole thing together. The record of
+adoption was in London. Hugh was Alexander’s
+legal heir and he is also the legal heir of Blankleigh.</p>
+
+<p>“At first when I investigated at Blankleigh’s
+home, a woman lived there; the house was never
+closed, though this woman, a sister of Blankleigh’s,
+later disappeared. A couple, man and wife,
+old servants, looked after the house. All the tenements
+were let, nobody knew where Margaret
+Blankleigh was, all knew that John was in Tasmania
+or dead, but this old couple answered all
+inquiries by sayin’ that Miss Margaret was travelin’
+on the continent and frequently they kept off
+trouble-makers by reportin’ that she had been home
+but had just gone abroad again.</p>
+
+<p>“Hugh saw her once on a channel boat. Of
+course, after John escaped and went to Canada, he
+had to keep in hidin’. I think, Montrose, that the
+brother and sister died about the same time. She was
+buried from her home.</p>
+
+<p>“Then the trouble began. A scamp of a cousin
+filed a claim as heir to the Blankleigh estate. I was
+near comin’ to get Hugh then, though not ready,
+but on interviewin’ the cousin’s solicitors I learned
+that their client could not be found,” and here McFarlane
+stopped short, grasped a handful of his
+curly hair and gave it a sharp pull, his eyes riveted
+on mine seemed to expand. Quietly he said, “Gordon
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>Montrose, what did ye say was the name of the
+mon ye were searchin’ for?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hogarth, James Hogarth, Winchester, England,”
+I replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Then by the Hall of Holyrood, they are ane
+and the same,” Mac boomed at me. “James Hogarth,
+son o’ the brither o’ John Hogarth Blankleigh’s
+mother, Hugh’s cousin and a bad mon, a
+ne’er-do-well, who gambled and dissipated. He
+made the claim and disappeared.”</p>
+
+<p>I sat silent, thinking, piecing together the
+threads. McFarlane gazed at the ceiling for a moment
+or so, then said, “What did the veelin come
+snoopin’ round here for? Ye were on the right
+track, Montrose, but verra late; seven years will
+soon be here since the claim was filed and unless
+Hugh’s heirship is presented and proven the British
+Crown will be soon the richer by hundreds of
+thousands of pounds sterlin’. ’Twould be a pity,
+mon, to let that get oot o’ the family,” and the Scot
+solicitor got up and paced the floor.</p>
+
+<p>My mind was harking back to a lone cabin beyond
+the ash swamp to a night described by Hugh,
+when he found himself in the embrace of John
+Blank. What must have been the anguish of that
+father, realizing that his own son fainted at sight
+of his terrible deformities? Providence was certainly
+in a grim mood when it brought within three
+miles of each other John Blankleigh and Alexander
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>Craighead—Blankleigh a felon, hiding from God
+and the world, Craighead, disgraced, disinherited
+by an aggrieved father, fleeing to the wilderness
+with the woman of his heart and her two innocent
+children.</p>
+
+<p>A picture of the verse on John Blank’s tombstone
+came before my eyes,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“<i>The day will come when I shall rise,</i></div>
+<div class="verse"><i>And meet my dear ones in the skies.</i>”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It was not meaningless to the despairing father—nor
+to me now.</p>
+
+<p>Craighead could not have been a bad-intentioned
+man. Love is a strange emotion—all barriers give
+way, be it strong enough; anything short of taking
+life is excusable.</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane broke in on me, “Montrose, God
+Almighty brought these people together in this
+out-of-the-world place for a purpose. It is up to us
+to find out what that purpose was,” adding as he
+took up and started to put on his topcoat which had
+been draped into his chair, “Alix will fash me when
+she espies the wrinkles in this; I’m goin’ oot to admire
+the dawgs and think on it.”</p>
+
+<p>What a peculiar character I thought; used good
+English when on guard—reverted to his native
+tongue when aroused—a good clear thinker.
+Doubtless he would find the way to approach Hugh
+on the delicate subject that we had discussed.</p>
+
+<p>As for my telling that sensitive fellow that his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>paternity was in question—why, the thought was
+revolting—yet it must be done.</p>
+
+<p>I met them at the stairtop, Hugh’s arm encircling
+the waist of Elaine. Back at the doorway
+from the orchard, Mac and Alix were evidently
+exchanging hurried confidences, and there followed
+Estelle, my erstwhile nurse, and the red-haired
+secretary Hunt, carrying a portmanteau.</p>
+
+<p>They were all evidently in high spirit. Hugh
+called: “Hello, Gordon, here you are, come and
+kiss the first bride to enter Craighead Hall; may
+there soon be another.” And he whirled Elaine
+away and pulled me forward to where Estelle was
+standing, a blush that would have shamed many a
+rose on her fair face. I kissed her and congratulated
+the secretary—I could not remember his name at
+the moment, but I shook his hand so heartily and
+for such an extended period that both Hugh and
+Mac rallied me, “I believe the man is envious”
+from Hugh and from Mac, “Methinks he doth
+congratulate too much; he is embarrassed.”</p>
+
+<p>Elaine had disappeared. Alix took the bride to
+a room which adjoined that usually occupied by the
+secretary; then we four men repaired to the Hall
+where Hugh poured out four generous drinks and
+we toasted the groom.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh jokingly admonished the newly-wedded
+man that in this house of men he must prove himself
+a super-husband or risk losing his treasure and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>adding with a wink at Mac, “You must be especially
+alert while Mr. Montrose is about—he is a very
+attractive and susceptible young fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>Of course I joined in the laughter, but I kept
+thinking: “If Hugh but knew!” He revered his
+mother; his sensitive soul would perish at the
+parallel being drawn here, the Craighead boys’
+visit to the bride and groom in England in the long
+ago and the sequence.</p>
+
+<p>Late that night, McFarlane gently tapped at my
+door. “I hae a monstrous proposal to make to ye,
+mon,” was his greeting as he stepped inside the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>“Not murder, I hope,” I returned lightly, he
+looked so serious.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Montrose, worse than that. I’m contemplatin’
+traffic with the deeil.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you presume that I am a more fit intermediary
+than you. That’s flattering,” I replied.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m serious, mon,” he replied, “we want John
+Blank’s shade to come oot o’ his grave just this
+once to tell Hugh why he thought his wife untrue
+to him,” continuing, “Hugh ne’er wrote ane word
+on that i’ all his report of Blank’s communications,
+which I feel is mighty peculiar; though I don’t
+believe i’ the thing—not a whit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rather inconsistent for a solicitor. If you do
+not believe the communications, why try now to
+get others?” I rejoined.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>“Oh weel,” he replied, “i’ a case o’ this kind ane
+must perforce get a’ ane can on the subject. ’Tis
+goin’ straicht against a’ my beliefs, though the
+writin’s o’ Elaine are well borne oot by the evidence.</p>
+
+<p>“God save us! I hope the Almighty will not
+take offense that a gude churchman should so disrespect
+the Holy Word as to hae dealin’s wi’ the
+minions o’ the Fallen Ane,” and the religious
+Scot looked piously up at the black beams in the
+high ceiling, doubtless with an unspoken prayer in
+his heart.</p>
+
+<p>“But, Montrose, what now suggests itself is,
+can ye not hae Elaine call up the speerit just this
+once and ask it just ane question which ye and I
+shall prepare in writin’? I suspect the mind o’ John
+Hogarth Blankleigh was tampered with or he never
+would hae gone huntin’ for Craighead wi’ murderous
+intention.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not for a thousand Hughs and all the property
+in England,” I heatedly replied. “I would not
+see the face of that girl blanched to a death-mask
+if I knew that everything could be satisfactorily explained
+and James Craighead brought back to life.
+Why man, you are asking something preposterous.”</p>
+
+<p>“Weel, weel, then what hae ye to suggest? It
+goes sorely against my religious beliefs, the tryin’
+o’ the experiment.”</p>
+
+<p>At the moment I despised the Scot for the exposition
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>of his selfish reason for a willingness to
+abandon the project. It was not on Elaine’s account.
+His mawkish fear of God dissuaded him,
+though his next words, in a measure, reinstated him
+in my esteem.</p>
+
+<p>“I would risk the damnation of my immortal
+soul, friend Montrose, and the little girl is just as
+much my baby as she is Hugh’s. The guid Lord
+knows an I thocht there was any risk to Elaine
+girlie I’d cut off my richt hand before I’d write
+oot any question, real or hypothetical,” and his
+face spoke the truth of his expressions.</p>
+
+<p>Mac was a fanatically religious Scotchman who
+would doubt verified messages from the dead, but
+who, if shown a weather-beaten olive-wood stick
+tapering at both ends and informed by an ordained
+Presbyterian minister that it was a “round from
+Jacob’s ladder” would probably have said, “Praised
+be God, the truths of Holy Writ cannot be refuted.”</p>
+
+<p>We parted without perfecting any plan, concluding
+to sleep on the subject and I retired sad at
+heart. Unaccountable, but the woes of this family
+had gotten into my blood and I had not had even a
+glimpse of <i>her</i> since Hugh swung her from his
+arm down the hallway.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="I">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">I</span>&#8202; WAS pressed into service next day.
+The priest had sent for Hugh and
+requested that I come along. We
+set out early; the men were silently
+going about their work. It was a
+relief to hear one call to the other
+occasionally, and Hugh, it seemed, was trying to
+bring back the habit of sociability lost in prison for
+he had a cheerful word for those whom we met.</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon greeted us like brothers and proceeded
+like the business man he was, to relate his
+plans for getting signatures to Hugh’s petition, saying
+that he had had an interview with the Honorable
+Mr. Harris and received his unqualified promise
+of support of Hugh’s bill for enlarging his
+prison work. In return the father had promised to
+insure the return of Harris to his seat in Parliament.
+It appeared that an opponent showing great
+strength was in the field.</p>
+
+<p>The peculiar experiences of that week’s work—for
+it was work—unceasing far into each night,
+were novel and interesting. We slept where it was
+convenient for the farmer to “sleep” us.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>Hugh and a young assistant to Father Nealon
+worked the “Irish Settlement” while an Archie
+Graham and I called on every farmer of Scotch
+lineage in the district from Blink Bonny to Devil’s
+Valley, a hilly country closely settled by Scots.</p>
+
+<p>The hills and valleys probably kept in mind the
+Highlands of their old home country. I concluded
+that should I ever seek political office anywhere, I
+shall first enlist the clergy’s sympathy and interest,
+for let it be recorded here, the petition held the
+names of two-thirds of the voters in the Honorable
+Mr. Harris’ district. The gentleman was elected,
+presented Hugh’s draft of a statute, which was
+buried under an avalanche of adverse criticism.</p>
+
+<p>The argument prevailed that prisons were meant
+to be places to which a man once liberated would
+rather die than return, but Hugh was far away
+when the fate of his idea was, at least for a season,
+sealed.</p>
+
+<p>Roughing it had toughened me and Hugh and
+I returned to Craighead Hall, he elated and in
+high spirits, I dreading the overdue disclosure,
+“time meanin’ muckle” as McFarlane had put it.</p>
+
+<p>Three newly pardoned “guests” had arrived during
+our absence; short-haired, furtive-eyed, pitiable
+spectacles, seemingly out of place, even among
+those who boasted only a few months’ residence at
+the Hall.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was all sympathy for them and I saw very
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>little of him that Saturday night except at dinner.
+McFarlane looked anxious and I thought a little
+desirous of avoiding my eye.</p>
+
+<p>Alix and Elaine were both, as always, gracious,
+and I was surprised and delighted when Elaine, on
+leaving the dining table, beckoned me with her
+eyes. I could scarcely credit my senses but noted
+that she turned at the doorway and meaningly
+looked at me.</p>
+
+<p>I escorted Alix to the stair, then with a muttered
+apology for leaving her, stepped through the
+open library door.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine was standing on the hearth, looking pensively
+into the blaze in the fireplace. As I spoke her
+name, she laid a finger on her lips, motioning
+silence or secrecy.</p>
+
+<p>She stopped me with a low-spoken, “Gordon, I
+must talk with you. James has told me everything
+and I am going to try, though I have not had any
+call to write for weeks—not since, no, not even that
+night when I had the dream about Alix.”</p>
+
+<p>I was taken aback, dumbfounded, could have
+cursed McFarlane to his face. I did protest to
+Elaine that she should not have been worried with
+the matter and called McFarlane a blundering old
+fogey.</p>
+
+<p>She ignored my railing.</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon, it has to be, I wish you would come
+here about midnight. I have tried, tried hard to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>find John Blank,” and she placed her hands over
+her eyes and whispered. “I cannot think of him as—I
+cannot call him Hugh’s father. The thought is
+too awful. A murderer, a convict—I never thought
+of him in that light before.</p>
+
+<p>“I must be alone until then; he will come here
+when it is quiet, if he will ever come, but you be
+here at twelve. Alix does not know that James has
+talked to me. He and you and I, Gordon, are confederates.
+You should know as soon as possible.”</p>
+
+<p>I tried to take her hand, but seemingly the effort
+passed unnoticed as she turned from me, saying,
+“Now, Gordon, I wish to be alone; will you
+please throw the catch on the door. I want only the
+light of the fire,” as I looked toward the unlighted
+lamp.</p>
+
+<p>I slipped out, up the stairs and to my room, feeling
+that I must avoid seeing McFarlane or he
+would insist on accompanying me to the midnight
+tryst. Four hours—an eternity, and yet what might
+not happen. Alternations of hope and fear—I did
+not pray.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the place settled to a stillness. The
+frail girl and myself in the lonesome gloom of the
+library were the only two souls in that household
+of nearly half a hundred, who had not surrendered
+physical consciousness into the keeping of the inner
+being who never wholly sleeps—the engineer of
+that wonderful machine, the body, the whisperer
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>who gives the signals, but cannot, alas, always force
+obedience on its twin, the physical being.</p>
+
+<p>At three minutes before twelve I was stealing
+down the broad stairway; a single light in the great
+hall was sufficient only to make the gloom in the
+corners more intense. I quietly turned the doorknob,
+forgetting that I had thrown the catch, then
+rapped gently, then more urgently as no response
+came.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the door was opened. Elaine, whose
+back-tilted head and bright eyes certainly negatived
+any visitation, said quietly, “Come in, and you too,
+James,” and then I noticed McFarlane at my elbow.</p>
+
+<p>Seated near the chimney-place, without light
+other than that given off by the slow-burning fire,
+we must indeed have appeared like three conspirators
+or that unfortunate triangle—two men courting
+the same girl.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine said regretfully, “I’m afraid my muse has
+fled, my gift has gone. I have even tried my old
+friend, the planchette. No use, I am just an ordinary
+girl again,” and smilingly she pointed to pencil
+and paper and the aid to beginners in mysticism
+which were lying on the table.</p>
+
+<p>We had talked probably ten minutes.</p>
+
+<p>“Montrose, you are the man to tell him,” McFarlane
+insisted, “but ye must be carefu’ not to go
+into the matter o’ the newspaper reports.”</p>
+
+<p>A voice from the darkness near the door, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>voice of a stranger, said quietly, but as though
+under strain, “I shall know every word from beginning
+to end.”</p>
+
+<p>We three started to our feet to behold Hugh, a
+long dark figure in dressing gown and slippers,
+standing in the room. He was leaning forward, his
+left hand clenched and in his right a murderous-looking,
+long-barreled cavalry pistol.</p>
+
+<p>While for the fraction of a second I was too
+stunned even to speak, not so Elaine; she flew across
+the room, grabbed the pistol-hand and had the
+weapon in her possession in the twinkling of an eye.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh laughed; the sound was not pleasant. The
+man was unnatural; held in his eyes, as one saw at
+close quarters, such a glare as is seen in the eyes of
+a wild animal caught in a trap.</p>
+
+<p>“Not yet, child,” he said, looking fixedly at
+Elaine, then again the same loud, mirthless laugh.
+“I was looking for prowlers, thieves,” then he
+gravely bowed to his two silent male auditors, saying,
+“I beg the pardon of every manumitted unfortunate
+under this roof. What of the story you
+have been rehearsing, you poor child and you two
+cowards? Do you think me so weak a creature that
+I cannot be told openly what you have been whispering
+for a fortnight? That I am a bastard, the
+son of a wanton? Well, by God, I’ll have the truth
+and before we leave this room,” and he turned and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>slammed shut the door with such force that the
+very bookshelves felt the jar.</p>
+
+<p>None of us had a chance to speak. Elaine, wild-eyed,
+threw herself onto Hugh’s breast, her arms
+about his neck, as he turned to face us. He caught
+her up, walked with long strides down the room to
+the panel in the wall which opened at his tread,
+stood the scared girl on her feet and said, “To your
+room, girl—go to your room, and on your life,
+not a word to your sister.”</p>
+
+<p>The panel closed, there was a muffled sound, an
+ineffectual effort at opening the panel from the
+other side, a pounding of small fists. Hugh had
+secured the door.</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the table, took off the shade from
+the lamp, calmly picked out a match from the
+holder, struck it and held it to the turned-up wick;
+then, without speaking, motioned to Mac and me
+as though we were two culprits, to be seated.</p>
+
+<p>I had noted from the corner of an eye that Mac
+had stooped and picked up the pistol from a huge
+black bearskin rug near where Elaine had been
+standing before she flung herself at Hugh and as
+the Scot, in obedience to Hugh’s unspoken command,
+moved to the big leather chair designated,
+the inconsequential thought: “What will happen if
+the chair is too narrow to admit Mac with that big
+gun protruding from his trousers pocket?” ran
+through my brain.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>All three seated, Hugh at the table like a judge
+and we two about six feet distant in chairs, Mac
+and I simultaneously started to speak. I do not
+know what I intended saying, as Hugh, as alert as
+a madman and having every appearance of derangement,
+held up a hand saying, “One at a time.
+Now, James McFarlane, make your accusation, but
+before God, if you as much as breathe calumny
+against my mother, I shall strangle you with these
+hands,” and he leaned forward, eyes glaring, with
+fists clenched and muscles strained just as though
+about to spring at the poor Scotchman who sat
+forward in his place, scared, shocked, but with a
+look of determination on his set face.</p>
+
+<p>I was alarmed as to the possible denouement.
+The storm was not blowing my way, but I felt
+cheapened and deeply sorrowful. Matters had
+taken an unfortunate trend. We had blundered and
+I reproached myself as a fool.</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane was speaking.</p>
+
+<p>“Mon, there’s naethin’ to worry aboot—’tis only
+this: your mither and Alix’ mither, the poor dear,
+was marrit to your father before she marrit Alexander
+Craighead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who was my father then?” demanded Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold a moment,” Mac returned. “Not so fast
+my boy, ye ken Alix and I reared ye. My wifie kens
+the whole story and she is just as happy.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>“No,” Hugh replied. “She has not been herself.
+She has not been happy since she came here.”</p>
+
+<p>“No wonder,” Mac argued, and I could see in
+him a quality, a calm persistence which, under the
+circumstances, drew my admiration.</p>
+
+<p>“Knowin’ that ye would be unduly disturbed at
+learnin’ the truth—”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh interrupted—“The truth, that’s what I
+want—the truth. I overheard enough. You said
+illegitimate,” pointing at Mac.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, nay, mon, we were speakin’ o’ the way ye
+inherited auld Sandy Craighead’s property—the
+means, mon. Calm yoursel’, ye were his grandson
+by adoption only.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh’s face had, from a flush, become deathly
+pale.</p>
+
+<p>“My father; out with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” Mac said, nodding his head without
+pause. “Yes, your faither was the last of a fine auld
+English family who killed a mon—John Hogarth
+Blankleigh, and no relation of auld Sandy Craighead,
+and was deported.”</p>
+
+<p>“My mother?” and Hugh seemed to wail out the
+words.</p>
+
+<p>“Your mither marrit Craighead after the deportation
+to Tasmania. I hae been tryin’ to tell ye.”</p>
+
+<p>Something seemed to break in on Hugh’s senses.
+From straining forward in his chair toward Mac he
+suddenly sat bolt upright, said in a vacant manner:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>“Strange! Illusions that oft repeat themselves,
+fantasies which will not down. My God! John
+Blank!” and the man suddenly fell forward on his
+face.</p>
+
+<p>I thought him dead as we laid him on the lounge.</p>
+
+<p>Hurriedly I ran for Alix, I don’t know why. I
+did not have to go far. She and Elaine were just
+outside in the hall. They both rushed in and I
+turned my back on the family of four, so closely
+knit and yet at the moment, one member so metamorphosed
+by shock out of all semblance of the
+affectionate, considerate brother of a few short
+hours ago that he had become an alien—a stranger,
+to be tenderly handled, loved, yet held in awe if
+still alive, reverenced if dead.</p>
+
+<p>My thoughts were broken in upon by a petulant,
+peremptory order from Alix, bending over Hugh,
+“Go and get Estelle. Hurry—what are you standing
+there for?” and I recognized nerves, a tension
+to the breaking point, unconsciously seizing the
+first vent available for the release of surcharged
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>We carried Hugh, still unconscious, to his room.
+Estelle was putting in order the bed from which
+Hugh had arisen to investigate the reason for the
+sounds of footsteps in this gaunt house, when we
+entered and as the covers were drawn over him, he
+opened his eyes, looking wildly first at Alix, then
+at Elaine, but the efficient Estelle, the physician
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>among us, unflinchingly applied a hypodermic
+needle and my friend went to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>We were a sad couple at breakfast, McFarlane
+and I.</p>
+
+<p>“The doctor is here but muckle guid it does.
+Hugh will speak to nobody,” McFarlane told me,
+“and the women are about daft. He won’t look at
+them. We made a fine mess o’ it a’.”</p>
+
+<p>I was sitting by a comfortable fire in the library
+about ten o’clock that morning reading a letter from
+my firm in Philadelphia. Its import was that we
+must find Hogarth; Europe had been combed thoroughly
+and the man must be forthcoming or an
+estate worth millions would go to the crown and
+incidentally we stood to lose a modest reward of
+$100,000.</p>
+
+<p>“The estate must be an immense property, considering
+the large sum offered,” I was thinking
+while looking idly at the pointed flames as they
+shot up from the wood, then died down to a dull
+glow, when the door quietly opened and Hugh,
+fully dressed, stepped in.</p>
+
+<p>I sprang to my feet, all excitement.</p>
+
+<p>“Why Hugh!” was my surprised ejaculation.</p>
+
+<p>“Good morning, Gordon, I owe you an apology
+for my conduct last night,” the dear fellow said
+and his tone and demeanor spoke volumes—contrition,
+shame, a crushed man. He hung his head.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>I grasped him by both arms as they hung by his
+sides and gently shook him.</p>
+
+<p>“Hugh, Mac and I were asses not to consult you
+immediately on his arrival; nothing to overlook in
+you, old man. Forgive me my stupidity. I must
+have been carried away by Mac’s cunning Scotch
+secretiveness.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish to go over the whole matter with you,
+Gordon, when it is all clear. I can then decide on
+my course. Now I am rather bewildered.”</p>
+
+<p>I softened the story McFarlane had told me, left
+out all question as to Hugh’s paternity. Once in
+that hour, Elaine looked into the room, but as
+Hugh’s back was turned while I faced the door
+from my side of the hearth, I went right on talking
+earnestly as though not seeing her. She withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>When I touched upon the friendship of the three
+boys, the Craighead twins and Blankleigh, tears
+came to the eyes of my auditor and as I told of the
+shooting of one of the Craigheads, the wrong twin,
+he shuddered as though he was cold, but he listened
+in silence.</p>
+
+<p>In telling of the wrath of old man Craighead and
+how his solicitor paid over to the surviving son
+£50,000 with the information that his father gave
+it to him with his curse and the order that he should
+“never again darken his door, was no longer his
+son” I am afraid I trenched on dangerous ground
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>as Hugh sprang from his chair and commenced
+pacing the floor.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s not that I am the son of a murderer; God
+knows I have nothing but respect for the sorrows
+of John Blank,” Hugh said, in a grief-laden voice.
+“Everything points to the unspeakable. I must see
+the newspaper story, if I have to tear down the old
+homestead to find it. Why should my mother’s
+husband shoot down a guest in his home?” and the
+man increased his strides back and forth across the
+room without looking at me.</p>
+
+<p>“That is what we must find out, Hugh. We must
+trace down the cause of your father’s anger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, though it lead to hell,” Hugh whispered.</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for a moment or two.</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot talk with James just yet. There is
+something here,” and he struck his left breast,
+“which forbids; nor can I bear to see my sisters. I
+shall come to your room tonight. In the meantime
+I shall ride over the farm,” and he started out.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me go with you, Hugh.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I wish to be alone,” and correctly reading
+my thought, added, “Have no anxiety, I shall join
+you tonight when the family has retired.”</p>
+
+<p>He would not permit me to accompany him, but
+I watched him from the door in the upper hall as
+he, waving aside a stableman, contrary to custom,
+brought out his horse and slipped the joined bridle-reins
+over the animal’s head. Slowly for him, he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>climbed into the saddle and rode away at a fast
+canter, out toward the wood.</p>
+
+<p>I took a canoe, a handline, put on one of my
+host’s short deerskin jackets which I found in the
+boathouse, for it was a “raw” day, and went after
+northern pike and solitude. I found both in my
+unconsciously protracted paddle upriver.</p>
+
+<p>The landing without net or firearm of an immense
+pike after over two hours’ struggle, the
+greatest fishing adventure that had up to that day
+ever befallen me, took my thoughts clear away
+from that which had obsessed and depressed me.</p>
+
+<p>I awaited Hugh’s coming that night until late
+and then went to the barns intending to quietly,
+without alarming the family, send out a searching
+party. I lied to McFarlane, saying Hugh had told
+me he would not return from the village before
+midnight.</p>
+
+<p>It was past that hour when he rode quietly into
+the stable where I was anxiously passing the time
+with the man in charge.</p>
+
+<p>“Sorry to have kept you up,” was his quietly
+spoken greeting and as he tossed me a packet of
+letters, “Mail for you, Gordon, you are not forgotten
+of the world it seems,” and his tone was
+bitter.</p>
+
+<p>We walked through the orchard way into the
+house, neither speaking. Hugh seemed changed, his
+manner held a sort of aloofness new to him while
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>with me. Evidently he had either forgotten his
+promise given during the day, to confer with me,
+or wished to avoid the interview as he turned to
+the stairhead with a brief “Good night” and was
+gone.</p>
+
+<p>The situation was embarrassing. Merely a guest—why
+should I feel that I alone must shoulder the
+burden or furnish a solution. The answer was patent—a
+dream engendered by a vision of a golden-haired
+girl, walking between the poplars, listening
+to the prattle of a wee boy as he confidently held
+her hand, of a lithesome young body which just for
+a moment I had once held close.</p>
+
+<p>My own affairs entirely forgotten, I sat day-dreaming
+that morning when Hugh quietly stepped
+into my room, looked furtively about, saying, “Can
+we talk without being interrupted—I presume you
+have had breakfast.”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly,” I lied, noting the absence of my
+host’s usual punctiliousness. He had forgotten to
+say “good morning.”</p>
+
+<p>I had arisen as Hugh pulled a chair up to the
+hearth in which a small fire was burning and idly
+opened one of the letters from the half-dozen
+brought by him the night before; casting my eye
+over it I was suddenly aroused:</p>
+
+<p>“Listen to this, Hugh,” I exclaimed, “Sorry to
+inform you that we lost out on the English case, the
+heir to the Blankleigh estate, James Hogarth, has
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>turned up without our aid and is pressing his case
+through a new firm of solicitors. Bagly, Atkins and
+Bagly write that they are not prepared to compensate
+our firm. In fact, Hogarth their client of seven
+years ago, persistently refuses even to see them, so
+you will appreciate that it will not be necessary for
+you to absent yourself longer.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh broke in on my reading.</p>
+
+<p>“From your firm, Gordon? My course is clear.
+Today we shall come to an agreement. I must see
+this man. He may clear up a lot of the dark spots.”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, Hugh, you must go, the property
+belongs to you and Mr. McFarlane. You owe it to
+your father’s memory to make claim to what was
+his.”</p>
+
+<p>“I owe it to myself to ascertain much more than
+I know now,” was the rather sullen answer.</p>
+
+<p>“Elaine?” I said, attempting to get him to look
+directly at me, but he evaded my eye saying, “No
+time for that now, my friend. My sisters shall accompany
+me. I’ll need them in establishing things.
+McFarlane says we must hurry and he knows nothing
+about Hogarth’s reappearance.”</p>
+
+<p>Little did Craighead know of my inner feelings.
+It seemed as though a light had been snuffed out.
+That I would also go to England was my determination.</p>
+
+<p>Mac was consulted finally when I balked at
+Hugh’s proposal that I remain in charge of the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>Craighead property. I was for going along with the
+party whether or no, but finally, on Hugh’s promise
+to return as soon as the law’s demands were met, I
+gave in. He had urged unfinished work, many poor
+fellows languishing in prison, who must have a
+friendly hand to pull them out into the sunshine,
+urged the necessity of a firm, kindly hand in looking
+after the “guests” now at the Hall, the election
+of our member of Parliament and the introduction
+of his bill.</p>
+
+<p>Emphatically, I must stay. I could not leave him
+helpless, but not a word did he say of Elaine until
+I had assented to the proposed arrangement, then,
+after McFarlane had gone, as we clasped hands
+over our bargain the old Hugh came back for a
+moment as he smiled and said, “I shall come back,
+a man again—and bring my little sister” then
+added after a hesitation, the hard look coming into
+his eyes, “Or I shall join my father in his wanderings.”</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane lost his Scotch imperturbability when
+he learned of the appearance in England of Hogarth
+and set out at once for the village to arrange
+for passage home.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh invited me to ride over the place with him
+so that I might have the benefit of his suggestions
+as to the conduct of affairs during his absence. I
+was deeply impressed with his minute knowledge of
+every detail of farm operation and listened with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>interest as we rode from field to field, to plans for
+keeping busy every man in his charge.</p>
+
+<p>“There is no tonic like work,” he said. “It builds
+both body and brain and these poor boys need help
+for both and God knows, so do I.”</p>
+
+<p>From the hilltop, near the big maple, we saw
+Elaine ride out with the hounds and, as it was getting
+dark, I suggested that we go to meet her.</p>
+
+<p>Riding down the north slope of the hill, we
+struck the back roadway which in time brought us
+into the road leading from the locked gate which
+had on first sight aroused in me suspicion as to my
+personal safety.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was silent, abstracted, engrossed with
+something. My horse was on the left, abreast of
+his, but he constantly looked to the right and
+seemed to be talking to himself. The words did not
+reach me, only sounds, and my attention was soon
+attracted to the baying of the hounds not far away.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly out of the semi-darkness came Elaine,
+and Hugh and I separated, each springing his
+mount into the undergrowth to avoid being run
+down. She gave a wild hallo as she shot past. Then
+came the dogs, evidently in playful pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>There were six of the brutes within twenty yards
+of us. We had resumed the roadway with one accord.
+The hounds suddenly stopped, stood whining
+just a second or two, then with dismal howls turned
+tail and fled. Neither Hugh’s whistle or Elaine’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>who had joined us, had any effect. The man-chasers
+had gone home.</p>
+
+<p>“Strange,” Elaine said as soon as she got her
+breath after the effort of whistling and quieting
+her horse. “I never saw the hounds disobey before;
+they must be getting cowardly.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps they saw me,” I threw back from my
+position a length ahead.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing out in these woods; don’t
+you know something might happen to you?” Hugh
+said somewhat crossly.</p>
+
+<p>“I knew I should meet you, Hughie,” was the
+reply and I noted that she reached over and patted
+Hugh’s horse on the neck.</p>
+
+<p>“Better keep nearer the house,” came in sullen
+tones from Hugh, and Elaine spurred her horse
+forward. As she passed me, I thought I heard a
+little cry as of one in pain. I did not hesitate to
+follow her, but succeeded only in finding the white-haired
+foreman holding her horse in the stable
+yard.</p>
+
+<p>It was too dark to see, but I imagined her going
+through the orchard way, hurt, sore at heart at the
+unaccustomed mood of a brother whom she worshipped.</p>
+
+<p>I waited, but Hugh did not come and as I passed
+the kennels, I saw that the animals were quietly
+lounging about their little yard. I always gave them
+a wide berth, but on this occasion looked in at the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>wrinkled old leader and spoke. He merely showed
+the whites of his eyes and walked away.</p>
+
+<p>Just then I heard the clump-clump of a horse’s
+hoofs and walked over to the roadway which I had
+so recently taken at a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>Two riders about a hundred yards distant came
+toward me as I stood on the smooth graveled road.
+The light was scant, but I could see Hugh’s horse
+distinctly, the other vaguely. The air was still.
+Strange that the hoofbeats of only one horse came
+to me. My hair began to rise. I could not have
+moved. In a moment they came out of the gloom,
+close, and the horse on the left as I looked at them
+faded and Hugh reined up to say in a quiet voice,
+“Did Elaine get in safely?”</p>
+
+<p>The whole pack of hounds a few yards away
+gave vent to the most lugubrious of howls, bringing
+from Hugh an unusual “Damn those brutes;
+I’ll send them away.”</p>
+
+<p>My answer was, “My God, Hugh; who was that
+with you? I certainly saw another horse.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh’s horse jumped as he touched it smartly
+with his crop and he called back, “Don’t wait for
+me for dinner. I have work to do.”</p>
+
+<p>I never learned what he did or where he went
+that night, but McFarlane who was an early riser,
+told me he saw him come up the veranda stairs at
+daybreak.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>He did not speak as Hugh looked worn and
+haggard.</p>
+
+<p>“Has the mon a lassie or does he dally with the
+cards?” McFarlane queried.</p>
+
+<p>I kept my counsel as to Hugh’s companion of the
+early evening, while assuring McFarlane that I was
+not aware before that our host dissipated in any
+way.</p>
+
+<p>The two days intervening before the day of the
+exodus were busy ones for me. I went over accounts
+with the secretary, met and talked to many of the
+“guests,” endeavoring to learn how the work was
+distributed, while Hugh informed each one that
+he was leaving me as fully empowered to look after
+their interests as though he were present. All were
+busy making ready for the eventful Sunday morning
+when they would make the downtrain at
+midday.</p>
+
+<p>There was a hardness about Hugh that was unexplainable.
+He made no reference to his companion
+on the ride back from the hill and I did not dare
+again to put the question.</p>
+
+<p>Saturday evening we all dined together in the
+great hall. The long expanse of polished wood,
+stretching beyond our party of five, down the sombre
+room with the vacant chairs, seemed to accentuate
+a feeling which the others apparently shared
+with me that we were but a remnant of a noble
+company which must at one time have filled the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>room. All seemed depressed. Wine, of which all
+partook, failed in bringing buoyancy. To me it was
+a sad function and though <i>she</i> sat beside me, I
+could neither talk nor eat.</p>
+
+<p>McFarlane discoursed on the subject of most
+interest to him, the reappearance of Hogarth and
+the necessity for hurry that no decree in the Blankleigh
+case might be entered before the true heir
+in person was presented in court. I did not follow
+him, nor did Hugh, apparently, and Elaine broke
+in, during one of his lengthy speeches to lay her
+hand on my arm and say, “Gordon, I am sorry we
+are going.”</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps she saw something in my eyes, for I
+could not reply, but only looked at her, for she
+added, “I shall come back—with Hughie, the old
+Hughie, and we shall have such good days together
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>I could only reach for her hand which had fallen
+below the level of the table and press it.</p>
+
+<p>I felt ashamed of my womanishness. When the
+others arose, I could scarcely stand.</p>
+
+<p>Said Alix: “Elaine, we have a lot of things to
+pack. Good night Mr. Montrose, see you later,
+Hugh,” and we three men resumed our seats only
+to listen to the Scotch solicitor’s resumption of the
+trend of his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Only for a moment, though, for Hugh, with “I
+have too many matters to attend to, tonight, boys,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>you will have to excuse me,” arose and disappeared
+up the stairway.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen Anne liqueur which had previously
+always added zest to my smoke, was bitter in my
+mouth, and I threw away my cigar and sought my
+room.</p>
+
+<p>Once in the night the lonesome baying of hounds
+came to my ears. I heard the baby cry as though in
+pain. The sweetness had departed from my life.
+Asleep, I saw a spectral horseman—headless, no—only
+lacking ears, but the hands that held the bridle-rein—they
+were strong hands, white, shapely, well-formed,
+a gentleman’s hands—and Williams was
+saying, “The house is astir early this morning, sir.
+You wish to see the party off? Shall I serve breakfast,
+sir? The others have all partaken.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, no, I wish no breakfast, I shall be
+down in a minute,” I replied, my heart sinking as
+I realized that this was the hour of parting and I
+had soddenly overslept.</p>
+
+<p>The luggage was afloat in a batteau paddled by
+six men when I stepped through the French windows
+and looked toward the river. Another large
+boat was being made comfortable with cushions and
+a carpet of furs.</p>
+
+<p>I ran down the outside stair and entered the front
+door expecting to find the travelers grouped in the
+hall awaiting me, but it was nearly an hour before
+McFarlane appeared, carrying his bag and calling,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>“Come on, come on, an there should be a mishap,
+we shall miss the train.”</p>
+
+<p>Estelle, her arms about Elaine, Alix with Fong
+Wing close behind carrying a package of considerable
+proportions, but evidently light, came down
+the stairs and McFarlane, eyeing the package, said
+“Wifie, I thocht everything had gone,” bringing
+the reply, “Oh this, I could not leave these black
+fox skins.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good morning, Gordon,” Elaine extended her
+hand and turned aside her head, but I saw a tear. I
+grasped the hand in both of mine, half dragging
+her, I am afraid, out toward the waiting boat.</p>
+
+<p>Neither she nor I, it appeared, could speak a
+word. How strong were her affections for this
+wilderness home! If the good God had only disposed
+her toward me—no, there was boundless love
+for Hugh—for the Hall, perhaps even for her
+horse. Certainly she reluctantly parted from her
+servant Fong, for her last words to me were, “Gordon,
+be good to Fong until I come back.”</p>
+
+<p>But a wonderful memory lived with me; it
+buoyed me up during the long months that followed;
+it lives with me yet.</p>
+
+<p>When the three, no, four voyagers (I almost forgot
+the child, he was so interested and quiet) were
+seated in the boat with four paddlers in their places,
+Hugh came running down the gravel walk. Just
+before he reached the pier, when the men who had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>congregated to wave an adieu had stepped back and
+Estelle was saying goodbye to Alix, Elaine beckoned
+me with a look.</p>
+
+<p>I was very near, and went on one knee to hear
+the whisper which her lips indicated. Suddenly she
+leaned forward and kissed me full on my mouth,
+then put her hands over her face—and the boat
+moved out, Hugh calling, “Goodby, Gordon, and
+good luck.”</p>
+
+<p>Sorry for me? Yes, she pitied my loneliness. I
+watched the boat land on Verde Island. A pain
+indescribable possessed me, and yet that kiss, that
+little moist red mouth pressed against mine—I
+would not have changed personality or circumstance
+with any man in the world. Her friendship,
+her pity for my evident loneliness even, weighed
+more than all the loves of history.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/a.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="A">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">A</span>LONE, all alone, I dined with Estelle,
+now the hostess, and her husband,
+and yet in this household I
+was alone. My rising hour was regular,
+now that I was in charge.
+Eight o’clock saw me at the stables
+or riding about the place overseeing the fall work.</p>
+
+<p>I cultivated the friendship of the dogs, turned
+them loose to accompany me on many a long ride,
+even learned to whistle so that they came at my
+call, all much to the disgust of Fong Wing who
+never ceased to fear the brutes. I used Hugh’s
+horse and it pained me to see Estelle astride
+Elaine’s beautiful mount, but time wears away
+many sharp edges.</p>
+
+<p>Father Nealon was a regular visitor. He never
+failed to interest me and all the men liked him.
+We never ventured far on theology. When I told
+him of the shadowy rider whom I saw with Hugh,
+he crossed himself and said, “‘And forthwith Jesus
+gave them leave and the unclean spirits went out
+and entered into the swine.’ Who am I but a servant
+of our Lord and why should I deny his works and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>his word? It is not given to me to see these things
+clearly, but my faith! I would have taken oath that
+I did see a spirit on the occasion of my first visit
+to this house.”</p>
+
+<p>November came with snow and ice. And one day
+came a letter from McFarlane, quaint and brief.
+The usual scold at the law’s circumlocutions, but
+full of assurances. Family all well; not a word in
+particular. Heart-beats quickened at sight of a
+dainty envelope superscribed, I knew, by a delicate
+white hand which I had held in my own on that last
+night. What hopes I entertained, what dreams I
+wove as I turned it over and over before courage
+came!</p>
+
+<p>Was it a joy or was it a disappointment? Here
+it is:</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon dear: I am not happy. Hughie has
+changed so much. We shall soon see the dear old
+Hall again. You looked so miserable but I would
+feel disappointed if you did not miss us. Teach
+Estelle to skate. We are leaving tomorrow for Scotland.
+Don’t write until I send our address—will it
+be Craighead Hall? Much love—from all—Elaine.</p>
+
+<p>“P.S. Kindly see that my tree is banked—you
+know—from the frost, and have Nell sharp-shod
+if Estelle uses her. My skates are in the boathouse,
+above the door. E. C.”</p>
+
+<p>I studied the dash preceding the “from all,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>wished the last two words had been omitted, but
+then—</p>
+
+<p>The tree was banked and the mare re-shod. The
+skates even were retrieved and ground, but as a
+skater Estelle was a failure, and I waited patiently
+until December for the promised address. Then I
+wrote to her at the London address of McFarlane
+and waited.</p>
+
+<p>Time did not stand still. Surprising how many
+vexatious happenings can befall in the conduct of
+a large plantation, even when there exists no lack
+of funds. When winter came in earnest, we started
+building the big sawmill at Gold Creek, a mile west
+of the Hall. Foundations were in shortly after
+Hugh left. The dam, the race and spillway were
+his handiwork. Chisholm, one of the “guests” was
+a millwright, Atkinson, another “guest,” a carpenter
+contractor before misfortune overtook him. The
+men were willing workers and the building soon
+took form.</p>
+
+<p>At Christmas it was under roof. Aye, Christmas—that
+was a day of memories—memories of
+my boyhood home just outside the city, mother and
+father, aunt and uncle, our entire family, but always
+boys and girls and games and joy. How different
+this Christmas!</p>
+
+<p>School and college days and each Christmas at
+home until at twenty only aunt and uncle welcomed
+me. Both parents had passed on. At twenty-one,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>aunt had died and at twenty-five I was alone in the
+world without a relative; home sold, a city dweller,
+spending Christmas, my day of memories, in the
+most lonesome place in the world—a man’s club
+in a great city.</p>
+
+<p>That Christmas night we served a banquet. The
+capacity of the great baronial hall was taxed, for
+Estelle had brought in a number of girl friends.
+It was the idea of Estelle, who sat at the head of the
+long oak table, hostess in the place where <i>she</i> belonged.
+The men were in their best clothes; there
+were no dinner coats. Fong Wing was ornate in a
+richly embroidered Mandarin jacket and sang a
+weird song of Hong Kong Hong Kongee to his
+own accompaniment on a one-stringed Chinese
+instrument.</p>
+
+<p>There was talent in this family of one-time derelicts,
+now real men of worth, and I thought as I
+looked up the table from my place at the east end
+what a noble work Hugh had undertaken.</p>
+
+<p>Tables are said to groan; this one was too solid
+for complaint, but it lacked nothing of the load.
+Great Canadian pike, baked whole, taken through
+the ice. I had watched the men in small houses on
+runners with a spear-handle protruding from the
+top, dangling an artificial minnow on the end of
+a line about five feet down through a hole in the
+ice; a pike would strike, down went the barbed
+spear and the thing was accomplished. Turkeys,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>venison, bear steak, vegetables from the vaults,
+apple—even pumpkin-pies and a great assortment
+of cakes, the especial pride of the cook, were
+a part of the menu.</p>
+
+<p>A toast to Hugh was the only drink.</p>
+
+<p>The Chinaman saved his glass of wine, arose and
+in a quavering voice said, “I dlink to lillee Mistless
+of Claighead Hall,” and every man stood and
+drained his glass.</p>
+
+<p>I could not have brought her name into this
+company, but I loved the Chinese boy for the act.</p>
+
+<p>Was it right that the long table should have been
+set aside that they should dance? I permitted it.</p>
+
+<p>Two well-handled violins were produced and for
+the first time the polished floor of Craighead
+Hall, liberally sprinkled with powder, felt the
+rhythm of feet, dainty and substantial, gliding to
+music over its smooth expanse.</p>
+
+<p>I wonder what Hugh would have thought had he
+dropped in that night. But was not a renewal of
+acquaintance with social usages a necessary part of
+the plan of the institution? I stayed in the hall until
+the table was back in place and every lady guest
+departed in charge of the hostess.</p>
+
+<p>That morning, before retiring, I re-read for the
+hundredth time my one letter of letters and as on
+many previous occasions, convinced myself that the
+returning family must be on the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>But March came with its winds, which swept
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>clean the veranda of the snow that persisted in
+drifting into corners. True, I had a few letters from
+McFarlane; “Only a little while and all would be
+settled” the refrain of each.</p>
+
+<p>“Alix was with the child and Elaine at Sorrento,
+Italy; both of the latter were a little ‘puling’ but
+nothing to cause alarm;” Hugh, I learned, was
+“dour” and not fit company for “man or beast,”
+and with the work at the mill and the clearing of
+the ash swamp and contiguous woods, time slipped
+away until near the end of May when I learned
+from the Scot that while Alix and her consort were
+established at Blankleigh Manor, holding possession,
+the case was still in doubt, put over until a new
+court sitting.</p>
+
+<p>The interesting, the important news was that
+Elaine and Hugh were starting for home in a week.</p>
+
+<p>“Right at this moment she is on the ocean, coming
+home” and I could do nothing that day but sit
+and think.</p>
+
+<p>Ten days. I had lost pounds in weight, wandered
+over the entire place with my friends, the wise but
+wicked-looking bloodhounds, talked to the old
+wrinkle-faced Julius Caesar, told him things I
+knew he would not repeat, thoughts that burned
+my heart and seared my brain.</p>
+
+<p>Those ten days extended over a greater period
+than did the seven months during which I had
+kept watch and ward over her possessions.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>Without warning they came—in the night—I
+sat alone in the library, brooding, had made a pretense
+of reading, but could not hold interest or
+follow line—when about ten o’clock the door
+opened and Hugh stepped through, stopping short
+just inside.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Gordon, you are alive,” his greeting.</p>
+
+<p>I sprang forward, impulsively threw my arms
+around him in a hug that seemed to embarrass,
+saying only, “Hugh!”</p>
+
+<p>He did not return the embrace. I stepped back,
+looking at the changes which a few months had
+wrought and said, “But you are not alone?”</p>
+
+<p>A little of the old Hugh flashed out as he sadly
+smiled, “I brought her back as I promised, Gordon,
+but a little worse for wear—both of us. She is upstairs
+with the women.”</p>
+
+<p>I had reached that condition of mind where
+nothing mattered. I must see her. I rushed past
+Hugh, who stood looking over the room, up the
+stairs and in the upper hall saw her coming toward
+me.</p>
+
+<p>Stricken dumb, I caught both her hands in mine
+and stood looking into those glorious eyes, but how
+big and sad they were! She had grown thin and
+pale.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Gordon, have you been ill? You look like
+death.”</p>
+
+<p>I whispered her name and she shyly withdrew
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>her hands as Estelle and a girl came up to us. Then
+she said, “Gordon, this is Fong’s successor, Jean,”
+and Jean, a highly colored Scotch lassie of seventeen
+or eighteen, made a curtsey saying to Elaine,
+“Your bath is ready, please.”</p>
+
+<p>And Estelle, the nurse again, put her arm around
+Elaine’s waist and said, “Mr. Montrose, you will
+please excuse her, she has had a hard day and
+needs rest.”</p>
+
+<p>Could I do other than say: “Certainly, certainly,”
+especially as she, Elaine, added, “Look
+after Hugh, Gordon. I wish to have a long talk
+with you in the morning.”</p>
+
+<p>When I returned to the library, Hugh was standing
+in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind
+his back and I distinctly heard him talking. I could
+no longer doubt that the man was in a dangerous
+state. Physically he was far under average and his
+display of mental breakdown could be deduced
+from changed attitude, his aloofness and habit of
+talking to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you talking to yourself?” I ventured the
+question smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh looked fixedly at me for so long a moment
+that I thought his reply would be unpleasant. Then
+he said, “Gordon, you have been here sufficiently
+long to appreciate that this house holds guests
+whom you cannot see.”</p>
+
+<p>Purposely I evaded understanding of his meaning.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>“I thought that from the first day of my visit
+Hugh. Men appeared from nowhere even that
+first night.”</p>
+
+<p>“You understand my meaning,” Hugh coldly
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>“You know that my father made this house his
+home, divided his attentions between my sister and
+myself. I am never alone. I can hear through my
+brain what he says, just as he hears and answers
+me,” and he walked over to the panel in the wall;
+it slid back and as he stepped into the dark stairway
+he added. “Can you join me at seven thirty? I wish
+to go up to the mill and see what progress we have
+made in clearing.”</p>
+
+<p>Nothing for me to do on this eventful night of
+<i>her</i> return but prepare for a new day of hard riding.
+I surmised that Hugh’s nerves would keep him
+moving. I was past the point where my friend’s
+peculiarities interested me as a speculation. They
+had become a source of fear.</p>
+
+<p>At seven thirty I had breakfasted and was out on
+the veranda ready for Hugh. He was astride his
+horse which was showing evidence of too much
+stabling. As I went down to where another mount
+was quietly cropping grass, Hugh jerking his horse
+almost to her haunches petulantly blurted out,
+“Why didn’t you have this beast exercised while I
+was away? She is overfed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rode her every day,” I replied quietly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>“Then you must have walked her,” and he gave
+the beast a smart blow with his riding crop and was
+off up the river road at such a pace that I could join
+him only after he had reached the mill and dismounted.</p>
+
+<p>We lunched at Smith’s cabin, rode the limits of
+the plantation, down as far as the ash swamp, considerable
+of which had been cut over. Only a few
+words of approval of my stewardship during a long
+busy eight months were spoken, though every
+change was noted and explained.</p>
+
+<p>We halted at the edge of the soft ground in the
+swamp. Hugh turned, saying, “You are all in, old
+man. Go on home. I shall see what the spring
+freshet has done to the creek.”</p>
+
+<p>“Better come with me, you are not perfectly
+fresh yourself,” I argued, but he turned and rode
+back over our tracks, seeking, as I sensed the higher
+ground penetrating the swamp.</p>
+
+<p>This was the most exhausting day’s work I had
+ever known. It was dark when I handed over my
+tired horse to the stableman. The hounds clamored
+for freedom as I neared the kennels. I opened the
+gate. They fawned on me as once they did on
+Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>The day had been oppressively hot and evening
+brought no relief. A storm was brewing.</p>
+
+<p>A cold spring-water bath and dinner clothes had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>a tonic effect and I went buoyantly downstairs,
+anticipating.</p>
+
+<p>Elaine and Estelle were there and the first greeting
+was “Where is Hughie?”</p>
+
+<p>I explained.</p>
+
+<p>“Then we shall not wait dinner,” Elaine said.
+“Hughie spent most of his days and nights riding
+about the country in England. I suppose he will do
+the same here,” adding, “I am very much alarmed
+over his restlessness.”</p>
+
+<p>She was but the shadow of the girl who had
+kissed me goodbye in November. Spirituelle, but
+bewitchingly beautiful. Thinness of face accentuated
+the largeness of her eyes. They represented
+more than the windows—the soul itself seemed to
+come out through them.</p>
+
+<p>I committed the error of asking Estelle if her
+husband would not join us. Her well-bred reply
+was, “No, Miss Craighead needs all my attention
+tonight,” and I then appreciated that the European
+trip had indeed worked sad havoc with the health
+of this frail girl.</p>
+
+<p>As thunder muttered in the distance, the sister
+expressed great concern about Hugh. She looked
+through the windows at the flashes of heat lightning,
+sighed and said, “He likes storms, though.
+They soothe him, he says, but I am fearful that he
+may be struck by lightning.”</p>
+
+<p>“Only electricity burning up super-heated air,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>I replied as though I knew all about nature’s forces.</p>
+
+<p>When rain came down briskly, Estelle asked me
+to see if my windows were closed. Of course they
+were in this house of mysterious serving men, but
+“I would see.”</p>
+
+<p>She followed me upstairs, stopped me in the hall
+and said almost in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>“Do not do anything to excite her tonight. She
+has been hysterical all day. I gave you the pleasure
+of her company at dinner just to help her regain
+composure. Fred has gone for the doctor.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good lord, Estelle, is it as bad as that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” she replied, “almost nervous prostration,
+only her spirit keeps her up. Gracious! even you,
+Mr. Montrose, look all used up and you have had
+only one day of that moonstruck brother of hers.
+What would you have been after eight months of
+it?” and she flew back downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>I looked into my room, an unnecessary precaution,
+hastened downstairs, but Elaine and the nurse
+were coming up.</p>
+
+<p>Flashes followed by thunder and the downpour
+of rain beating on the upper veranda were disquieting.
+Elaine resting on a divan in the upper hall
+from the exertion of climbing the stairs, chided me
+jokingly on my failure to keep our morning appointment.
+I was sorely tempted as Estelle had left
+us alone a moment together.</p>
+
+<p>The orchard door opened suddenly bringing in a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>sheet of rain and the white-haired overseer
+slammed shut the door and stood with water running
+from his clothing onto the rug.</p>
+
+<p>There was a wild look in his eyes as he directed
+them first to me, then to Elaine, then back to me
+where they rested for a second, before he said,
+“Mr. Montrose, I wish to see you a minute.”</p>
+
+<p>Elaine jumped up, crying, “Hugh! Has anything
+happened to Hugh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not a thing, Miss, I want to talk privately with
+Mr. Montrose.”</p>
+
+<p>Estelle who just then returned, said to Elaine,
+“It must be something about storm damage; they
+don’t wish to worry you.” They left us.</p>
+
+<p>“For God’s sake, man,” I ejaculated, looking at
+the wild eyes of Stanton who said, “Hugh’s horse
+has come in, mud to the mane and I don’t know
+what to make of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“When?” I inanely exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>“Just now, and the dogs are out. We cannot have
+them trace him.”</p>
+
+<p>My heart sank. The brutes always returned to
+their quarters for dinner. I turned cold, but appreciated
+the necessity for action.</p>
+
+<p>“A minute,” I said. “I know where to find him.
+Get a couple of men and I will join you at the
+corner of the barn.”</p>
+
+<p>“Man,” Stanton said, “It’s raining pitchforks.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all right,” I replied more bravely than
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>my condition of mind warranted and fetched a raincoat
+from my room and was out in the night without
+being intercepted, as I feared.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody met me at the appointed place. The wind
+was high so I stepped into the shelter afforded by
+an angle of the barn. Just then there slunk by me
+in the darkness a procession of shadowy forms.
+The dogs were returning to their kennel.</p>
+
+<p>I was all impatience when four men with five
+horses came from the yard. I had difficulty in
+mounting; finally succeeded through one of the
+men’s putting his horse alongside mine to keep him
+from running sidewise.</p>
+
+<p>I led the party through the rain down to the
+point to which I surmised Hugh was making when
+we parted. We spread out and urged our reluctant
+beasts in the teeth of the storm into the soft swamp.
+There was no trail. Stanton and I came together
+where there was a narrow peninsula of reasonably
+firm ground. He called through the deafening roar
+of the wind in the trees and the beating of the torrents
+of rain.</p>
+
+<p>“If we had the dogs now we could trace him.”
+I made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>We carefully picked our way further into the
+swamp, both appreciating that at any moment our
+horses might disappear in the almost fathomless
+black quagmire.</p>
+
+<p>A wild halloo in front stopped us in our tracks.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>One of our men, afoot, came staggering out of the
+dark.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve found him. He’s dead; all torn to pieces.
+The dogs, damn them, they did it.”</p>
+
+<p>We threw ourselves from the horses and followed
+the man to where in the darkness we heard
+running water. In a minute we crossed a narrow
+ridge, water on both sides and I recognized Hugh’s
+boyhood retreat which I had more than once visited.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was lying on his back just inside the shelter.
+In the glare of a match I saw his white face.
+The head was turned toward his shoulder as though
+in an effort to close a gash in the right side of his
+neck from which blood still flowed. I could see
+only this: his eyes were closed. The man who found
+him was bending close and holding the small lights.</p>
+
+<p>“He is alive or the blood would not spurt like
+this,” he exclaimed. “What shall we do?”</p>
+
+<p>“Get your horse; take mine, and ride like hell
+to the woods road. The doctor is on his way to the
+Hall. If you don’t meet him, go to the house. If he
+has not arrived, ride toward the village and bring
+him here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Better stop up the wound with something or
+the doctor will not be needed,” he said as he hurried
+out into the pelting storm.</p>
+
+<p>Light was furnished from a burning splinter.
+Making a pad of a folded handkerchief, I tore a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>strip of linen from my shirt and bound the neck as
+tightly as I dared. All in a daze, breath coming with
+difficulty, I worked as quickly and effectually as I
+could.</p>
+
+<p>To wait was agony. I straightened one of his legs
+which was flexed and then noticed that the cloth of
+his trousers was caked with mud and my hands
+after the service were incrimsoned. Other wounds—I
+searched for them, binding up such as were
+bleeding.</p>
+
+<p>The dogs had worked sad havoc with their master.
+Occupation brought relief from the terrible
+tension.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh’s riding crop was picked up by one of the
+two searchers who had just come in. It showed evidences
+of a dog’s anger. I visualized the scene;
+wondered which had first sought shelter here,
+Hugh or the hounds. Probably the hounds. Hugh
+would, in his latterly acquired dislike for the animals,
+attempt to drive them out, probably struck
+with his riding whip and they attacked. My surmise
+was not far from being correct.</p>
+
+<p>Stanton busied himself in the making of a
+stretcher of two poles from the framework of the
+little habitation, testing their soundness carefully.
+Stirrup leathers were brought and fastened between
+the poles to form a cradle. Four coats were then
+similarly used. Then we waited in silence, watching
+the still form in lightning flash and the flickering
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>torchlight, while the wind and rain augmented by
+the noise of the rushing waters of the swollen creek
+and the crashing thunder created a fearful pandemonium;
+lightning frequently illuminating the
+horror of the situation, drops of water pelted from
+the frail roof, little streamlets ran down the side
+walls. My rubber coat protected Hugh in a measure,
+but the leafy flooring beneath him was sadly
+wet.</p>
+
+<p>The wait was terrible; finally I gave the order,
+“Let us carry him home.”</p>
+
+<p>I held his head in position while the men gently
+laid him in his stretcher. He moaned once as we
+four traversed the narrow trail.</p>
+
+<p>Little did the boy dream as he brought his beloved
+books to this spot and cleared a path, that in
+the full day of manhood it would serve as a guide
+for the bearers of his body on a night when men’s
+forms six feet distant were undiscernible except
+when nature’s fearful forces furnished a light.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh’s face was covered; bended branches from
+his beloved beech tree held up the coat, giving him
+air to breathe.</p>
+
+<p>Once as we neared the main road after nearly a
+mile of laborious searching out of our way through
+the forest and newly cleared land, Hugh spoke.
+The voice was unnatural, husky and weak.</p>
+
+<p>I was on his right side, near his head and thought
+he spoke his sister’s name, but what I heard distinctly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>was “Hell hounds” and words that trailed
+off into nothingness. Consecutive thought would
+not come to me. The phrase “This will kill Elaine”
+had since my first excitement driven everything
+else from my mind.</p>
+
+<p>A group of men met us just after the main road
+was reached. They were all excited and crowded
+around us urging their services, but our burden was
+light. Not until afterwards did I think of what
+eight months had done to my friend—it required
+little effort to carry the light form.</p>
+
+<p>I gave my place to the silent Williams when we
+reached the east veranda stairway whither I directed
+the awed carriers after dismissing the other
+men, thinking to get Hugh to his room without
+carrying him through the house and apprising his
+sister of the disaster before the doctor came.</p>
+
+<p>I tiptoed up the stairs, entered Hugh’s room and
+spread the French windows wide, then pulled a
+divan out into the open where the stretcher was
+rested. Four of us were coatless and drenched to
+the skin.</p>
+
+<p>Up to this moment I had not felt the full force
+of the tragedy. My feelings were beyond anything
+my pen can describe. We stood in our sodden garments
+looking at each other. What should be the
+next move?</p>
+
+<p>Williams disappeared into the hallway. The
+raincoat was stripped off, the beech branches thrown
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>on the floor. I examined the bandage on Hugh’s
+neck and found it saturated.</p>
+
+<p>Estelle, followed by Williams, came in hurriedly.
+Strange how trivial things impress; in place
+of the usual nurse’s white, Estelle had on a loose
+wrapper and her feet were bare.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at Hugh, caught a breath, then said
+to the bearers, “You may go; Mr. Montrose and
+Stanton stay.”</p>
+
+<p>The two men disappeared through the windows
+into the rain.</p>
+
+<p>“Now get these clothes off,” to us. A quick movement
+to Hugh’s dresser and she was forcing brandy
+into his mouth. He coughed and I could see a
+trickle of red down his breast which I had bared.</p>
+
+<p>“Cut off what you cannot unfasten,” the nurse
+ordered and presently we had him between the
+sheets of linen and she was uncovering the neck
+wound while ordering Stanton to get bandages
+from her room.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor came in through the window, piloted
+by a man who had waited in the storm to intercept
+him, and the messenger. Our man had found him
+under the open shed for vehicles at the little white
+church where he had taken shelter. The faithful
+fellow had ridden to the stables where he learned
+of the doctor’s non-appearance, then out the road
+through the woods intending to go on until the doctor
+was found.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>There was nothing I could do but stand by and
+watch the physician and nurse work over the still
+form. I went over and stood looking at the play of
+electricity on the tall poplars.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Estelle said, “There, that is the last
+stitch,” there was a deafening crash simultaneous
+with a blinding flash of lightning. A bolt seemed to
+stab the earth with a viciousness indescribable and
+the smell of sulphur filled the room. I was thrown
+back and off my balance.</p>
+
+<p>“Gad!” the doctor exclaimed, “we are struck.
+Go out, Montrose, and look about. This tinderbox
+must not burn tonight,” and he looked significantly
+at Hugh’s still form.</p>
+
+<p>Estelle who had been on her knees by the bedside
+sprang to her feet with, “Doctor! Doctor!
+Your other patient; she’ll be wild; come on,” and
+hastened from the room before my shocked senses
+operated to move me from where I stood.</p>
+
+<p>“Is he dead?” was my breathless query as the
+medic quietly removed from the bed to the dresser
+a number of shining implements.</p>
+
+<p>“Morphine,” was the laconic reply, “and the sister
+must sleep this night—but get out, man, you
+can’t get any wetter.”</p>
+
+<p>Outside as I circled the house from the east stairway,
+the storm seemed to have augmented in force
+while the darkness was so intense that I stepped
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>right into the arms of another watcher coming
+through the orchard.</p>
+
+<p>“Struck a tree just back of the house,” he yelled
+through the roar of the storm. “Buildings all
+right,” and I re-entered the house through the
+orchard door and quietly went to my room.</p>
+
+<p>There I found Estelle’s husband.</p>
+
+<p>“Orders,” he said. “You are to take a hot bath,
+then drink this,” indicating a long glass of slightly
+ambered liquid. “Then go to bed. Doc Parsons says
+Mr. Hugh will sleep until morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“How about Miss Elaine?” I queried.</p>
+
+<p>“Asleep. She knows nothing about the accident.”</p>
+
+<p>Was it fatigue? The day and night had certainly
+wearied me, but my nerves were so tense that no
+bodily condition would have robbed me of wakefulness.
+I slept within a minute after drinking the
+generous potion prepared by Estelle—or was it the
+doctor—he was a great believer in the efficacy of the
+poppy in emergencies.</p>
+
+<p>The sun shining through parted curtains was
+drawing an elongated triangle on the polished floor
+of my room when I opened my eyes. It was late and
+I cursed myself while hastily dressing as thoughts
+of Elaine and Hugh and all the terrors of yesternight
+rushed upon me.</p>
+
+<p>My first action was to rush to Hugh’s room. Estelle,
+sitting near the bed, placed her finger on lips
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>as I cautiously opened the door and intruded my
+head.</p>
+
+<p>Then she silently, by motion of those lips, said,
+“Sleeping; Elaine also,” and I withdrew to search
+for the doctor. He also was sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>All nature appeared to voice its thanks to the
+God of the universe for the cleansing of the atmosphere.
+There was a delightful odor of fresh earth
+mingled with the perfume of blossoms filling the
+air. The overseer and a couple of men were busy
+with pick and shovel removing the last traces of
+what was yesterday a splendid apple tree. A few
+small branches many yards away attested the violence
+of the shock which had worked the destruction.</p>
+
+<p>As I stood near them, one of the men said, “Ah,
+here is what attracted the lightning,” and he
+reached down and endeavored to pull up a pipe
+protruding from the cavity where the tree had
+stood.</p>
+
+<p>“Seems to go deep,” he grunted while exerting
+all his strength.</p>
+
+<p>“That must be a vent to one of the vaults—it is
+hollow,” the foreman remarked, and while I stood
+by—I felt a little dazed yet—they filled in and
+sodded the spot that nothing should mar the velvety
+smoothness of a portion of the estate to which
+a practical gardener and our Chinaman were devoted.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>I saw that a small opening atop the vent
+pipe was left, but the spot was scarcely noticeable.</p>
+
+<p>“Better,” a word common on the lips of doctor
+and nurse, though too often meaningless, as I knew,
+nevertheless it braced me on each occasion when I
+made inquiry as to the condition of the patients.</p>
+
+<p>Work must go on. Forty men must not become
+idle for lack of guidance and I was relieved when
+the foreman asked me to ride to the mill and to the
+logging operations. I took up my duties of the days
+when I managed the place just as naturally as
+though they had not been interrupted through
+Hugh’s return.</p>
+
+<p>The third day Hugh had a “slight fever,” and
+“Elaine was with him” relayed, was all I could
+learn. Thank heaven, I did not witness the meeting
+between brother and sister—it would have been
+too much.</p>
+
+<p>Trouble multiplied. McFarlane, knowing Hugh’s
+condition, by letter poured out to me his despair of
+winning for him his English estate. The court
+could not disregard the operation of natural law
+and the registering of birth in connection with the
+record of John Blankleigh’s incarceration following
+the shooting of Craighead negated the claim that
+Hugh was Blankleigh’s son.</p>
+
+<p>“The estate would go to the other claimant, Hogarth,
+who had submitted irrefutable proof of being
+the next of kin,” was Mac’s wail, but my worry
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>was over the other question, legitimacy, and the
+present effect on my sick friend.</p>
+
+<p>Should the doctor be taken into our confidence? I
+determined to lay the whole matter before Parsons—or
+should I go to the priest?</p>
+
+<p>The doctor was calling to me, “Come up. I wish
+to have a word with you.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was losing his fight, did not seem to care
+to win, Parsons said.</p>
+
+<p>Then I bared the whole story. Elaine’s strange
+malady; the change in Hugh, commencing on the
+night when he overheard us discussing the family
+history; the spectral horseman to whom Hugh
+talked and the change in the behavior of the bloodhounds.</p>
+
+<p>“They evidently could see what only a few of us
+can,” I concluded lamely at least to the practical
+doctor’s thinking, for from a quiet, anxious listener,
+he suddenly blazed forth, “Idiot! A parcel of
+damned idiots. Why didn’t you tell me all this before?
+Why man, I have doubted my own sanity;
+questioned my ability as a physician; tried my
+damnedest to get to the root of things; and here I
+have been working to cure the body when the mind
+is deranged.</p>
+
+<p>“I am not one of those fool doctors who believe
+that the machine is everything. The operator is of
+vastly more importance. Why in—well, now I understand
+his delirium; why he sees things and talks
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>to thin air. Spiritualism, rank nonsense; imagines
+his father is with him—” and abruptly Parsons left
+me, walked to the west end of the veranda with
+head bowed and hands clasped behind his back.</p>
+
+<p>Returning, he stopped and quietly said, “Do you
+know, Montrose, our think-works, the useful ones,
+are in the front; the sleep-works in the back of our
+heads. I saw you looking at the ceiling just now, so
+conclude you have no suggestions.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wrong, doctor,” I replied, accustomed to Parsons’
+brusqueness; “why not get a surgeon from
+Toronto or Montreal; they have a broader practise
+than you; may know some kind of a cure for
+your patient’s hallucinations.”</p>
+
+<p>“All crazy here, from the Chinaman up. Come
+back about eleven,” and he went back to Hugh’s
+room.</p>
+
+<p>From eleven to twelve o’clock, I walked the upper
+veranda impatiently, cursing that habit of all
+the medical men of my acquaintance—they never
+once had kept an appointment or considered the
+other fellow’s feelings. Then Parsons stuck his
+head out of the opened window.</p>
+
+<p>“No time now, Montrose, am in consultation
+with a specialist; talk to you later.” My suggestion
+had evidently been forestalled.</p>
+
+<p>When, after an invitation from Parsons to join
+the medical men at dinner, I walked into the library
+where a table was prepared near the open
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>windows, I was presented to Doctor Milne of Toronto,
+a man about forty, shrewd-looking, with
+keen, colorless eyes and I noted particularly, the
+longest, most slender fingers I had ever seen on a
+human hand.</p>
+
+<p>Parsons noted my hesitancy in taking the proffered
+hand of Dr. Milne and broke the ice in his
+characteristic way with, “Lucky, young man, if you
+never have to feel those fingers in anything more
+sensitive than your palm” and the specialist smilingly
+commented: “Very convenient, Mr. Montrose,
+yes, very convenient in delicate explorations,”
+holding up his hands; “permit an unusually small
+incision, unusually small,” and his satisfied air proclaimed
+to me evident pleasure in his art.</p>
+
+<p>Peculiar, the reasoning of most doctors. I put my
+questions regarding Hugh directly to Milne. He
+shifted the responsibility of reply to Parsons, who
+with apparent amusement watched the blood mantling
+my face. I was in no mental state to calmly
+listen to a play on words, however erudite, or weigh
+foolish professional ethics.</p>
+
+<p>Then Parsons said, “Montrose, don’t you know
+better than to question a consultant? It isn’t done.
+Hugh’s wounds are not necessarily fatal—infection,
+a little fever, nothing alarming, but the
+doubly accursed dogs bit into his voice. That’s layman’s
+talk, Montrose, the throat lesion is deep and
+the man may never again speak above a whisper;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>but that’s all he seems to need, a whisper in this
+house where even the living men are silent. The
+dead don’t need a trumpet.”</p>
+
+<p>Parsons leaned far back and laughed harshly, a
+most bitter, understandable laugh of commingled
+sorrow for patient and disgust for himself, his
+skill which could not restore.</p>
+
+<p>Anger seemed to fill his eyes as he tipped forward
+as though to emphasize his statement. “That’s
+not the worst of it. He’s crazy. When not confidentially
+whispering to some imaginary person, I know
+he is thinking talk. Usually insanity has little effect
+on the health, but this thing spiritism is different,
+he is wasting away.”</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Milne interposed, “Loss of appetite; affects
+the pneumogastric nerve, checks digestion.”</p>
+
+<p>“We are agreed that an operation may at least
+partially restore Hugh’s voice,” Parsons said, “but
+nothing will save him if he will not eat.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the consulting doctor disregarded me
+wholly and addressing Parsons said, “Perhaps, doctor,
+you have not had occasion to study that peculiar
+aberration called spiritism. I regret to say that the
+malady is becoming quite common, especially
+among the more serious thinkers. Quite a smattering
+are scientific men. We have found it convenient
+to attach to our hospital staff a specialist
+in psycho-physics; may I suggest Mr. Craighead’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>removal to Toronto? He may possibly have both
+voice and reason benefited.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t be moved, in my judgment,” from Parsons.</p>
+
+<p>“Useless to discuss this further then,” said
+Milne. “Our Dr. Antoine takes his own time in
+bringing about cures—has clinics or classes. The
+method is peculiar. I have listened with interest on
+many occasions. He seems to adopt homeopathic
+methods, cures like with like, for he certainly
+teaches spiritism, is an avowed spiritualist.</p>
+
+<p>“I have heard him say that a thousand years
+hence when people become weaned from what he
+terms a silly emotional philosophy preached from
+our pulpits and learn that God is within each of
+them and was never seen in a burning bush or
+perched on far-away Mount Sinai, all will know
+that the dead live and are as real as those in the
+flesh.</p>
+
+<p>“He holds that lack of knowledge of spiritism in
+those endowed with a peculiar brain or subconscious
+attunement affording ability to communicate with
+spirits, causes many so-called mediums to sicken
+and die. The fault lies in the ignorance of the living
+who know nothing of natural laws; such laws
+are not taught our children because such teachings
+would controvert common understanding of so-called
+‘Bible truths.’</p>
+
+<p>“He believes that ignorant submission of will-power
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>among beginners through curiosity, amazement,
+interest in the unusual or for gain, yes, submission
+of the will of the living to the will of the
+spirit with whom the medium is in touch will cause
+the being within the living to become silent, the
+actual spirit to be dispossessed, driven out, the other
+to take possession but the house cannot accommodate
+the new tenant. It decays.</p>
+
+<p>“The life term of most mediums seldom exceeds
+seven years of active work, I have noticed. A
+strange world, this,” and turning to me, “Mr. ah—Montrose,
+I presume all of this is Greek to your
+practical mind.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not quite, doctor,” I replied, “and I think well
+of your suggestion; we must bring Dr. Antoine
+here, no matter what the cost.”</p>
+
+<p>“Impossible. He is peculiar, money seems to
+mean nothing to him; he treats many without
+charge, makes no distinction between those who pay
+and the charity patients; seems to be a part of his
+peculiar philosophy—or shall we call it religion?”</p>
+
+<p>“A pretty blamed dangerous philosophy, I
+should say,” from Parsons, “but any old religion
+that makes man feel a responsibility for his fellow
+man’s weal has my approval. I’ve watched many
+pass away but have yet to see any spooks hovering
+about and unless the lad upstairs gets help which
+I can’t give him—and right soon—he is a goner.”</p>
+
+<p>Before we left the library it was agreed that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>Hugh should be taken to Dr. Milne’s hospital as
+promptly as possible.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning Parsons, leaning over
+my bed, awoke me with, “No wonder your wits are
+dull; you sleep as though it were a business; now,
+boy, up and get both brother and sister into the care
+of this mind carpenter of Milne’s—can’t do either
+of them any great harm.”</p>
+
+<p>Two days later, after seeing Elaine, Hugh, Estelle,
+the maid and Dr. Parsons aboard a private
+car at Brenton, as I leisurely paddled my canoe
+through the twilight toward the Craighead Pier
+light, I thought of the vagaries of fate which had
+brought me to this place, a stranger, interested only
+in finding a client. Instead I had found a vocation,
+taken on a great responsibility—and lost myself to
+a woman beyond my reach.</p>
+
+<p>I had resigned my junior partnership in my law
+firm and now, with Hugh’s changed attitude
+toward me, I must give up this work.</p>
+
+<p>The Hall, with its silent “guests”—master, mistress,
+nurse, all gone, so depressed me that I welcomed
+work.</p>
+
+<p>What a blessing is work, even hard manual
+labor, a necessity on the farm. But for the urgency
+of necessary work on my part I should have become
+a fit subject for Dr. Antoine’s ministration.</p>
+
+<p>The rivermen, the boom-stringers had moved
+down the river, giving place later to gangs of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>drivers who swept millions of logs before a great
+sweep stretching from shore to shore, when wind
+and current were right. The boom was formed of
+long logs chained end to end with a staunch raft on
+either extremity, drawn forward through the turning
+of a capstan which slowly drew the sweep
+toward anchors carried out by boats. The turning of
+the capstan by four to six men reminded me of
+John Blank’s treadmill in Tasmania, but invariably
+these men sang as they worked.</p>
+
+<p>A short note from Dr. Parsons, who had returned
+to Valleyford, took me hot-foot to the village,
+where I learned that he was again back in
+Toronto—a great disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>In confidence from the secretary, Hunt: “Hugh
+has deeded to Elaine the entire Canadian estate
+accompanying the gift with an immense endowment
+in funds.”</p>
+
+<p>My last hope was shattered. Surely I felt impoverished,
+mentally and otherwise—what except
+devotion had I to offer?</p>
+
+<p>Parsons surprised me one hot day in July. He
+said he wanted a good day’s fishing, well knowing
+that a drive of logs had just passed and that catching
+fish was out of the question.</p>
+
+<p>I learned that both patients were “on the mend”
+as the doctor put it. “Hugh’s operation was successful
+but it had not had time to show results. He was
+still morose.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>“Pretty lucky for Craighead, picking you out of
+a law office before you got into some penitentiary.
+Saved him time and money;” and “clodhopping,
+farming, rather than law was evidently my forte;
+he had heard that I had just lost a case before the
+Governor-General” were some of his good-natured
+jibes before I could elicit any details of the case
+obsessing my mind.</p>
+
+<p>Just before sundown as we were returning to the
+Hall after a fruitless four hours of fishing, Parsons
+reached into his pocket saying, “Here is a note
+from the young lady which I forgot to deliver.”</p>
+
+<p>When I snatched the envelope from his hands
+with an oath, the doctor laughed and said, “Good!
+I’m glad to see you have some spirit left. Thought
+this madhouse had got you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dear faithful Gordon: The doctor has told you
+all about Hugh, all about me. We are promised
+return leave about September first. Faithfully,
+Elaine.”</p>
+
+<p>It was not much, but it raised my spirits.</p>
+
+<p>To insure the doctor’s staying that night, I had
+Stanton hide his horse and the poor vicarious liar
+told Parsons with a solemn face that it had strayed
+from the pasture.</p>
+
+<p>I learned that though Hugh’s voice was not fully
+restored by the operation, there was prospect of its
+becoming stronger. The young lady, living in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>quiet sanitarium of Dr. Antoine, was in cheerful
+spirit and “getting back her roses.”</p>
+
+<p>“What of Hugh’s mental poise?” I queried.</p>
+
+<p>Parsons pondered a long minute. “Antoine is a
+peculiar fellow; he didn’t pooh-pooh Hugh’s dementia
+at all. Even with the staff of operating surgeons
+present he told Hugh he knew there were
+many living spirits of the dead all about us, in our
+homes, that the hospital was crowded with them.
+‘Helping,’ he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Montrose, just imagine spooks helping
+Milne when he uses those long fingers in an operation
+that means life or death according to his skill
+in avoiding a membrane by the vigintillienth of an
+inch, yet the fellow had an explanation, explained
+just as though it were true that ‘through electrobiologic
+batteries charged from the persons present’—whether
+alive or dead I don’t know,” Parsons
+interpolated, “‘the spirit within the surgeon was
+given an ascendancy making the physical for a
+time merely the agent of the subconscious man.’</p>
+
+<p>“Briefly,” Parsons added, “the operation was not
+performed by Milne alone; he was aided by the
+dead surgeons present,” and he laughed, then resumed
+in a more serious vein, “The strange thing
+about it, Montrose, is that Milne is different when
+operating with Antoine present. I have watched
+him when Antoine looked into the patient’s eyes
+before the operation as he did into Hugh’s, heard
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>him say to the psychoanalyst, ‘Well!’ and the answer,
+‘He has or has not the will to live,’ and in each
+case the operation was successful or the reverse according
+to Antoine’s reply.</p>
+
+<p>“One day I asked Antoine why spirits make a
+rendezvous of the hospital. He replied seriously,
+‘Every worthwhile disembodied spirit has his work
+and you doctors keep busy an army of them caring
+for souls released through your bad guessing and
+reckless cutting.’</p>
+
+<p>“I quit him then, but both Elaine and Hugh like
+him. Hugh has quit whispering to himself.”</p>
+
+<p>That night before retiring, I read and re-read
+<i>her</i> brief note.</p>
+
+<p>Reveries merged into dreams of mingled ecstacy
+and despondency. Chemical activity fading,
+came rapture. The subjective in command, the soul
+spoke. Then struggling came the conscious, the
+spoiler, and the vision despair.</p>
+
+<p>Parsons said to me next morning, “Boy! You
+look as though you had been drawn through a knot-hole.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/chapdeco.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/s.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="S">
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="drop-cap">S</span>EPTEMBER, season of fulfillment,
+that seventh month of the
+old Roman calendar now held for
+me a wonderful significance. Here
+was August with its dusky brush
+spreading over field and forest a
+sizing of brown, nature’s preparation for the coating
+of white to be laid on only a couple of months
+later in this northern clime. Harvesting was well
+along and I had time to build on the outer end of
+the pier a small artistic summer house. There I
+rested evenings in the pleasantness of the usually-present
+river-cooled breezes and dreamed.</p>
+
+<p>News from England was disquieting. Hugh’s
+entailed patrimony would pass from the hands of
+the rightful heir in September and my friend
+would bear, to his death, a detested stain. Could,
+or rather, would he live his life with this mark upon
+him?</p>
+
+<p>The first of September found me in Toronto before
+a black-gowned judge pleading and not in
+vain, for the parole of an unfortunate. Tardy cutting
+of legal tape made my sojourn in that city so
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>uncertain that there was no conveyance awaiting me
+at Laketon when three days later I arrived there;
+thus I resumed acquaintanceship with my driver of
+a year ago—a year, but seemingly a decade.</p>
+
+<p>He welcomed me to a seat on the coach beside
+him after stowing away the mail bag for Valleyford:
+became the questioner, reversing our previous
+roles.</p>
+
+<p>“What has become of Craighead?”</p>
+
+<p>“In Toronto recovering from an operation,”
+I replied and he looked the suspicion which he a
+few minutes later voiced, “Some say that he has
+been done away with and that you have taken his
+place; guess I need not have been anxious about
+you,” and he shifted his position further to the
+left.</p>
+
+<p>When we had swung across the bridge into the
+village, although I had endeavored to enlighten
+my friend as to the work at Craighead Hall, I felt
+doubt as to whether or not I was cleared as a murder
+suspect. At best, I remained to him a usurper.</p>
+
+<p>My horse, Hugh’s, was at the hotel stables. As
+I passed the little red school house and approached
+the white church, my mind was engrossed with
+thoughts of the events of my year’s work in this, at
+first, land of enchantment, turned place of sorrows,
+and through no fault of mine.</p>
+
+<p>Evening shadows were falling as I passed the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>church and cast my eyes over to the far corner of
+the little cemetery.</p>
+
+<p>Was I taking on Hugh’s affliction? There he was—leaning
+on the paling surrounding John Blank’s
+grave, just as when I first set eyes on him!</p>
+
+<p>I reined up my mount so violently that even before
+the beast could be quieted Hugh had walked
+over to the road fence, was leaning on it as though
+tired, and when I came alongside, extended his
+hand, listlessly and said something in greeting
+which I could not catch.</p>
+
+<p>At my effusive “God bless you old man, I’m glad
+to see you again,” he merely smiled a sad, wan
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>“The spirit seems to have left the man,” was my
+thought as we rode side by side, he on Elaine’s
+horse which had been tied in the church-shed. He
+would not trust himself on his own mount which
+I had proffered.</p>
+
+<p>It was not the Hugh of last September, neither
+was it the crazed man as he had returned from
+England. This cross rested heavily on his weakened
+shoulders. I would gladly have helped bear
+it with him.</p>
+
+<p>His voice was a whisper as he talked and though
+I learned that the whole party had returned two
+days previously, I hesitated at questioning, not
+wishing to put upon him the effort necessary in
+making reply.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>I could discern, even though his riding stock was
+high, a livid scar made by the teeth of his dogs,
+extended by the surgeons.</p>
+
+<p>Our ride into the plantation was almost as silent
+as was our first walk over the same road. Leaves
+were falling; the sadness of autumn crept into my
+blood and it was an unhappy Montrose who walked
+with his host into the upper hall. Even the thought
+of again seeing <i>her</i> failed in dispelling a monstrous
+depression.</p>
+
+<p>She stood near the hearth in the library, one arm
+about Hugh, to whom she was talking in a low tone
+when, after preparation in the matter of dinner
+clothes, I went down to dine. I had never seen her
+so bewilderingly beautiful. The months in care of
+the mind-healer had certainly worked wonders and,
+as I took both her extended hands in mine, reason
+seemed in the balance. I had difficulty in preventing
+myself from drawing her into just one embrace,
+come what might.</p>
+
+<p>Solicitude for Hugh held her close to him and it
+was not until the following afternoon that opportunity
+came.</p>
+
+<p>She proposed that we should pick the apples
+from her tree; even then Hugh made a third party.
+The telling to Hugh of events intimate to last
+year’s picking brought from him a smile but he was
+silent and when we had gathered the meager crop
+afforded in what the gardener termed an off-year
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>for fruit, and Elaine and I had each taken up two
+baskets, the total yield, and started for the vaults,
+he left us.</p>
+
+<p>Sliding back the great oak door at the north end
+of the east wall of the house we were in a corridor
+lighted only from the open doorway. On the left
+was solid masonry; on the right, hewn rock with
+doors of limestone showing at intervals of about
+twelve feet heavy wrought iron hinges; overhead
+a vaulted ceiling of stone.</p>
+
+<p>A number was painted on each door.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is my storeroom,” Elaine said, in a
+strained voice, holding out a huge key.</p>
+
+<p>Neither of us had spoken after we entered the
+vault’s corridor. I shall not attempt to explain the
+reason for her silence. I simply could not speak,
+so intense were my emotions.</p>
+
+<p>The key fell to the stone floor. I started toward
+her, whispering her name. She put both hands over
+her eyes as I stopped, then turned and fled down
+the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>“Fool! Fool! How I have presumed—now I
+must quietly slip away from this house and try to
+forget. She will never forgive what she must have
+correctly interpreted as an act beyond the bounds
+of good breeding,” was my thought.</p>
+
+<p>The ignominy of it; could she not trust herself
+alone with me, her brother’s friend? In my estimation,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>I fell far below the status of the most unpromising
+of the Hall’s “guests.”</p>
+
+<p>Listlessly I pulled back the vault door, deposited
+the baskets on the floor and, utterly exhausted from
+surcharge of feeling, leaned back against the door
+of the inner vault. My next sensation was that of a
+man struck by a falling tree.</p>
+
+<p>I had been pitched forward and was lying on my
+face, my feet pinned beneath some heavy weight.
+A musty odor came into the vault. The upper half
+of the stone door had fallen outward and only the
+baskets of apples had saved me from a terrible
+crushing.</p>
+
+<p>With difficulty I extricated myself; my first
+thought the apples, ruined irretrievably and
+through my carelessness. I think I endeavored to
+remove the stone, but desisted when I heard voices.
+No, there was nothing of the supernatural about
+one voice. The sound came from the inner vault.</p>
+
+<p>Could I mistake Dr. Parsons’ cheery tones? They
+came again, then all was silent.</p>
+
+<p>I pulled the lower half of the door out onto the
+other. It fell with a startling crash and a cloud of
+dust. Then I stepped through the portal, but the
+room was dark.</p>
+
+<p>I called “Dr. Parsons!” but there was no
+response.</p>
+
+<p>I struck a match and the first object that met my
+eye was a huddled form, apparently that of a man
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>near the farther wall. The match expired. I turned
+and ran out into the open air.</p>
+
+<p>Hastily I went to my room via the veranda,
+secured two lamps and hurrying back down the
+outer stairway was greeted with “Holy virgins!
+Where are we going at four o’clock daylight with
+our lamps trimmed?” from Dr. Parsons, the man
+of all others whom I wished to see.</p>
+
+<p>“Come on, doctor, there’s a dead man in the
+vaults,” I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>“You look crazy but I’ll go with you,” the doctor
+replied and added as we halted on reaching the
+open door, to light the lamps, “Hope it’s only the
+Chinaman. Don’t like to think of any of the other
+fellows snooping around—they’re too decent.”</p>
+
+<p>Parsons stepped over the broken door, holding
+a lamp high. Quite a mass of debris was scattered
+over the floor of the northwest corner of the room.
+Near it was what appeared to be a clothed human
+form. I could see a head with reddish hair, the top
+of the head, as the chin rested on the chest and back
+of the object was a small brass-bound leather
+trunk, against the well.</p>
+
+<p>From Parsons came, “Lightning must have
+struck above this place,” as he looked at the shattered
+stone some of which was about the legs of the
+partially recumbent figure.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes, last spring. It struck the air-vent when
+the tree was destroyed.” I excitedly replied and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>then for the first time realized that the voices which
+I had heard in the vault came through this pipe
+from the orchard above.</p>
+
+<p>“Then this fellow must have been in here since
+then. Probably killed him.”</p>
+
+<p>By this time, Parsons had his hand on the shoulder
+of the man and was saying, “Holy Joseph! This
+has been here a long time, mummified, cured, or I
+never saw the Catacombs of Rome.”</p>
+
+<p>I stood mute while my friend kept up a continuous
+flow of fragmentary remarks as he went on with
+his examination.</p>
+
+<p>“Good thing they elected me coroner; looks like
+murder. No, by all that’s holy, here we have it. A
+clean shot, in the right, out the left temple,” and
+he picked up from the debris a small weapon.
+“English, a bulldog, one chamber empty, a good
+shot,” and dropping the weapon, proceeded to look
+inside the coat.</p>
+
+<p>“Some sport—employed the best tailor in London
+ten years ago,” as he examined markings on a
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>A yellowed parchment crackled as the doctor
+moved the form. Parsons picked it up.</p>
+
+<p>“Now what! Here is a certified copy of the birth-record
+of Hugh Hogarth Blankleigh, London,
+England; queer, they don’t usually carry credentials,
+these birds—”</p>
+
+<p>I fairly yelled.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span>“Hogarth, James Hogarth—at last I have found
+you, too late, but I have found you,” and then it
+dawned on me that the claimant in England must
+be a fraud, a part of a conspiracy, that a cable to
+McFarlane would secure a postponement or if decision
+had been rendered, a reopening of the case.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait a minute, don’t get panicky,” the doctor
+called as I snatched the parchment from his hand
+and started to run from the room.</p>
+
+<p>I stopped, not because commanded, but because,
+as the doctor was reading the certificate I had
+caught on the reverse side the name “James Hogarth”
+among a dozen or so lines of writing in soft
+pencil. The name stood out as though embossed.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is something!” I said, trying to decipher
+the irregular lines.</p>
+
+<p>“Read it, man,” Parsons exclaimed as I stood
+silent, staring at the thing—the last words of a
+dying man.</p>
+
+<p>Turning closer to the light I read:</p>
+
+<p>“God how I have yelled.</p>
+
+<p>“Air good but so damned thirsty.</p>
+
+<p>“In the dark soon—somebody may hear.”</p>
+
+<p>The “may” was underscored and from the next
+writing it appeared that he had extinguished the
+light and slept.</p>
+
+<p>“Must be the second day or night—matches, but
+must save oil. It shakes light.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>“Craighead has the laugh on James Hogarth,
+Esq., this time.</p>
+
+<p>“No use yelling; I’m caught. Be a good sport,
+James, die game, Cousin John took his standing,
+not a peep.</p>
+
+<p>“He got her! God bless her; no man could have
+told me she was untrue and lived—wonder how
+he died. I am sorry, yes, sorry that the double
+damned door slammed.”</p>
+
+<p>Evidently some time elapsed before the other
+lines were written as the words were hard to decipher.</p>
+
+<p>“Crazy as march hare.</p>
+
+<p>“God! God! God! Must I die—body to the
+rats, soul to the devil, with John and Jim?</p>
+
+<p>“I wronged you, little Ruth, when I lied to your
+John, forgive—</p>
+
+<p>“Afire—paying—coward—a pill from five-fingered
+dick—no pain. Hurry—light splutters, but
+I’ll burn it.”</p>
+
+<p>This, as nearly as we could decipher was the last
+message of the source of all the Craighead-Blankleigh
+tragedy—a disappointed suitor who for revenge
+and gain, for Hogarth was the next male heir
+to the entailed estate, had evidently poisoned
+Blankleigh’s mind to desperation’s breaking point,
+sending the jealous husband out to commit murder.</p>
+
+<p>As I crouched beside the doctor, the better to get
+his aid in deciphering, he broke the trend of my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>thought with, “Well, the poor cuss, he probably
+deserved it, but I’m sorry. What brought him
+snooping in here to be caught like the rat he was?
+What was he going to burn? Why the birth certificate
+of course. That’s what brought him here.”</p>
+
+<p>It had just then struck me also. The record of
+birth of Hugh in London had been doctored—altered—pity
+I did not remember details of dates so
+frequently repeated by McFarlane—but the certificate
+was all important—it might restore Hugh to
+himself. That was the important thing. What matter
+the property?</p>
+
+<p>A great burden seemed to have fallen from my
+shoulders. Gladness came to my heart. My long
+sojourn at this place found an excuse. What had up
+to this moment been demanded of me seemed trivial.
+Here in the finding of Hogarth and this document
+was accomplishment, my excuse for intrusion
+into the intimate life of these people—the quest
+was ended.</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s take the certificate to Hugh,” I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait, Montrose, the Scotch crops out in you
+when money is to be found—I must think.”</p>
+
+<p>“Joy never kills; let’s find Hugh,” I said as I
+started up.</p>
+
+<p>“Parrot stuff,” Parsons ejaculated. “Trouble
+kills; something must be done with this.” Then he
+added, after a moment’s silence, during which he
+looked at what was once a man’s form. “Go ahead,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>tell Hugh, wire McFarlane. I’ll get Stanton; he’s
+silent as the grave, and this find will be our secret.
+No use harrying Hugh or Elaine with a sight of
+this; but I’ll take photographs; they may come in
+handy.”</p>
+
+<p>The parchment was folded and safely in my
+pocket when I walked into Hugh’s room. He was
+not about the house, so I found Hunt the secretary.
+Together we framed a long message to McFarlane,
+embodying the entire content of the birth certificate
+and a recital of the circumstances of its finding,
+promising the proofs by mail. A few minutes later
+the secretary was on his way to the village telegraph
+office.</p>
+
+<p>I dared not delay, even though the certificate
+meant nothing more than proof that the real claimant
+was here and not before the English court.</p>
+
+<p>I found Hugh through hearing the dogs. They
+were in a remote corner of the orchard near the
+river’s edge. She was sitting by his side and the
+whole pack of hounds sported about them, joyous,
+and showing none of the sense of fear which evidently
+brought about the tragedy in the swamp.</p>
+
+<p>“Hugh!” I called from a little distance. They
+were apparently talking seriously as they both
+seemed startled. Elaine gave me one quick, frightened
+glance, then hastened away, the hounds following,
+while Hugh came toward me without a
+word.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>“Important news, Hugh. I have found your
+birth certificate,” I blurted out. My friend’s face
+paled and his hand shook as he took the yellowed
+parchment and fairly devoured it with his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Good God!” he whispered and I put an arm
+about him.</p>
+
+<p>He staggered as though from a blow. I wondered
+then if joy does not sometimes kill.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, I am six months older than I thought I
+was” came from his lips and then the import of that
+fact seemed to strike him, for the voice, from a
+whisper broke into an unintelligible something
+which I cannot adequately describe.</p>
+
+<p>“I doubted her—fool—I doubted her,” was understandable,
+more from the expression of his eyes
+than from the words.</p>
+
+<p>Then he sank to the ground, burying his face in
+his hands.</p>
+
+<p>I was quietly telling him the whole truth as to
+how Hogarth had been found, reading the last expressed
+thoughts of that criminal, saying that Hunt
+was well on his way with the message which would
+secure him his father’s property—and name—in
+England.</p>
+
+<p>His form ceased to heave and presently he arose,
+placed both hands on my shoulders and said, the
+voice weak, but different.</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon, now I can look you in the face. The
+strain has been great—I have thought of ending it
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>all.” Here he paused, then looking away added,
+“’Twas my little sister—the suicide’s sufferings even
+in the spirit world would have created no barrier. I
+thought only of her sorrow.”</p>
+
+<p>Then his mood changed and as we stood facing
+the broad river, the very soul within him seemed
+to expand as he told me of his plans, now assured
+for carrying out his great work in the land of his
+birth, all sense of the injustice done his father and
+mother which filled my thoughts, seemed for the
+moment forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>He was the zealot, the emancipator, the friend
+of the friendless, and his plans carried me along in
+the scheme.</p>
+
+<p>I should be master of Craighead Hall, filling it
+with new “guests,” strange faces, until the whole
+countryside should be peopled with reborn men and
+the Parliament forced to take notice and lend its
+approval.</p>
+
+<p>“And I shall return soon and you must come over
+and see what we have done at Blankleigh Manor,”
+brought me back to a realization of present things.</p>
+
+<p>I could not say him nay. I could not tell him
+then that I had made up my mind to go away, that
+life here was agony; even though I loved both the
+wonderful old plantation and the work—yes, both
+court and managerial work—but I could not live
+under the strain—here.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was continuing, “But I must not stand
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>idling. Dr. Parsons is opportunely here; he has
+often expressed a desire to see England again. I’ll
+take him with us and be off soon as we hear from
+McFarlane. I must go to Elaine. You haven’t told
+her anything?” he called back as he hurried toward
+the house while I aimlessly wandered over to the
+pier to sit in the little summer house to think and
+brood.</p>
+
+<p>After a time, as the sun sank low over the big hill
+where I had listened to Hugh’s recital of his father’s
+sad history, a wonderful picture spread itself
+before my senses. I could see this whole country,
+now sparsely settled, teeming with life, useful activity,
+mills driven by the harnessed power of the
+great river, artisans now rotting in prison becoming
+an indispensable part of a nation’s progress; engineers
+making a waterway from the upper lakes to
+the St. Lawrence, and power, unlimited power—being
+carried throughout the Province—all
+through my effort. And then my thoughts went
+back to her and I started up, wide-awake, as she, all
+in white as I had first seen her, stood in the open
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands were by her sides, a wistful, pleading
+look was in her soulful, glorious eyes. I stood,
+irresolute.</p>
+
+<p>“Gordon, I have come to you,” she whispered,
+and waited.</p>
+
+<p>I could not—no I could not reply.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span>“Hughie said I should find you here—don’t you
+want me?” and she held out her hands—</p>
+
+<p>As my arms encircled her in a close embrace,
+there came to us, through the quiet evening air, the
+song of the boom-gatherers returning from work.</p>
+
+<p>The Ave Maria, appealing, rising and falling in
+wonderful cadences to the dip-dip of many paddles—it
+floated to us over the still waters, a benison.</p>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="transnote">
+<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p>
+
+<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
+
+<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78254 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #78254
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78254)