diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-8.txt | 8689 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 156438 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 387607 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/38347-h.htm | 8768 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 36912 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24588 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39082 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_004.jpg | bin | 0 -> 3233 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_005.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24046 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_006.jpg | bin | 0 -> 20045 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_007.jpg | bin | 0 -> 17334 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_008.jpg | bin | 0 -> 29339 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347-h/images/ill_009.jpg | bin | 0 -> 22416 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347.txt | 8689 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38347.zip | bin | 0 -> 156416 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
18 files changed, 26162 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38347-8.txt b/38347-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a69ac8e --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8689 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Millionaire Baby, by Anna Katharine +Green, Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Millionaire Baby + + +Author: Anna Katharine Green + + + +Release Date: December 19, 2011 [eBook #38347] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE BABY*** + + +E-text prepared by Annie R. McGuire from page images generously made +available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 38347-h.htm or 38347-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38347/38347-h/38347-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38347/38347-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + http://www.archive.org/details/millionairebaby00gree + + + + + +THE MILLIONAIRE BABY + +[Illustration: "I HAVE SAID SO MUCH THAT I MUST SAY MORE. LISTEN AND BE +MY FRIEND." _p. 288_] + + +THE MILLIONAIRE BABY + +by + +ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + +Author of The Filigree Ball, +The Leavenworth Case, Etc. + +With Illustrations by Arthur I. Keller + + + + + + + +Indianapolis +The Bobbs-Merrill Company +Publishers + +Copyright 1905 +The Bobbs-Merrill Company + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I Two Little Shoes 1 + II "A Fearsome Man" 30 + III A Charming Woman 39 + IV Chalk-Marks 52 + V The Old House in Yonkers 69 + VI Doctor Pool 80 + VII "Find the Child!" 98 + VIII "Philo! Philo! Philo!" 109 + IX The Bungalow 122 + X Temptation 132 + XI The Secret of the Old Pavilion 140 + XII Behind the Wall 176 + XIII "We Shall Have to Begin Again" 196 + XIV Espionage 201 + XV A Phantasm 207 + XVI "An All-Conquering Beauty" 211 + XVII In the Green Boudoir 232 + XVIII "You Look As If--As If--" 249 + XIX Frenzy 263 + XX "What Do You Know?" 274 + XXI Providence 289 + XXII On the Second Terrace 315 + XXIII A Coral Bead 321 + XXIV "Shall I Give Him My Word, Harry?" 331 + XXV The Work of an Instant 338 + XXVI "He Will Never Forgive" 340 + XXVII The Final Struggle 350 + + + + +THE MILLIONAIRE BABY + + + + +I + +TWO LITTLE SHOES + + +The morning of August eighteenth, 190-, was a memorable one to me. For +two months I had had a run of bad luck. During that time I had failed to +score in at least three affairs of unusual importance, and the result +was a decided loss in repute as well as great financial embarrassment. +As I had a mother and two sisters to support and knew but one way to do +it, I was in a state of profound discouragement. This was before I took +up the morning papers. After I had opened and read them, not a man in +New York could boast of higher hopes or greater confidence in his power +to rise by one bold stroke from threatened bankruptcy to immediate +independence. + +The paragraph which had occasioned this amazing change must have passed +under the eyes of many of you. It created a wide-spread excitement at +the time and raised in more than one breast the hope of speedy fortune. +It was attached to, or rather introduced, the most startling feature of +the week, and it ran thus: + +A FORTUNE FOR A CHILD. + +_By cable from Southampton._ + + A reward of five thousand dollars is offered, by Philo Ocumpaugh, + to whoever will give such information as will lead to the recovery, + alive or dead, of his six-year-old daughter, Gwendolen, missing + since the afternoon of August the 16th, from her home in + ----on-the-Hudson, New York, U. S. A. + + Fifty thousand dollars additional and no questions asked if she is + restored unharmed within the week to her mother at Homewood. + + All communications to be addressed to Samuel Atwater, + ----on-the-Hudson. + +A minute description of the child followed, but this did not interest +me, and I did not linger over it. The child was no stranger to me. I +knew her well and consequently was quite aware of her personal +characteristics. It was the great amount offered for her discovery and +restoration which moved me so deeply. Fifty thousand dollars! A fortune +for any man. More than a fortune to me, who stood in such need of ready +money. I was determined to win this extraordinary sum. I had my reason +for hope and, in the light of this unexpectedly munificent reward, +decided to waive all the considerations which had hitherto prevented me +from stirring in the matter. + +There were other reasons less selfish which gave impetus to my resolve. +I had done business for the Ocumpaughs before and been well treated in +the transaction. I recognized and understood both Mr. Ocumpaugh's +peculiarities and those of his admired and devoted wife. As man and +woman they were kindly, honorable and devoted to many more interests +than those connected with their own wealth. I also knew their hearts to +be wrapped up in this child,--the sole offspring of a long and happy +union, and the actual as well as prospective inheritor of more millions +than I shall ever see thousands, unless I am fortunate enough to solve +the mystery now exercising the sympathies of the whole New York public. + +You have all heard of this child under another name. From her birth she +has been known as the Millionaire Baby, being the direct heir to three +fortunes, two of which she had already received. I saw her first when +she was three years old--a cherubic little being, lovely to look upon +and possessing unusual qualities for so young a child. Indeed, her +picturesque beauty and appealing ways would have attracted all eyes and +won all hearts, even if she had not represented in her small person the +wealth both of the Ocumpaugh and Rathbone families. There was an +individuality about her, combined with sensibilities of no ordinary +nature, which, fully accounted for the devoted affection with which she +was universally regarded; and when she suddenly disappeared, it was easy +to comprehend, if one did not share, the thrill of horror which swept +from one end of our broad continent to the other. Those who knew the +parents, and those who did not, suffered an equal pang at the awful +thought of this petted innocent lost in the depths of the great unknown, +with only the false caresses of her abductors to comfort her for the +deprivation of all those delights which love and unlimited means could +provide to make a child of her years supremely happy. + +Her father--and this was what gave the keen edge of horror to the whole +occurrence--was in Europe when she disappeared. He had been cabled at +once and his answer was the proffered reward with which I have opened +this history. An accompanying despatch to his distracted wife announced +his relinquishment of the project which had taken him abroad and his +immediate return on the next steamer sailing from Southampton. As this +chanced to be the fastest on the line, we had reason to expect him in +six days; meanwhile-- + +But to complete my personal recapitulations. When the first news of this +startling abduction flashed upon my eyes from the bulletin boards, I +looked on the matter as one of too great magnitude to be dealt with by +any but the metropolitan police; but as time passed and further details +of the strange and seemingly inexplicable affair came to light, I began +to feel the stirring of the detective instinct within me (did I say that +I was connected with a private detective agency of some note in the +metropolis?) and a desire, quite apart from any mere humane interest in +the event itself, to locate the intelligence back of such a desperate +crime: an intelligence so keen that, up to the present moment, if we may +trust the published accounts of the affair, not a clue had been +unearthed by which its author could be traced, or the means employed for +carrying off this petted object of a thousand cares. + +To be sure, there was a theory which eliminated all crime from the +occurrence as well as the intervention of any one in the child's fate: +she might have strayed down to the river and been drowned. But the +probabilities were so opposed to this supposition, that the police had +refused to embrace it, although the mother had accepted it from the +first, and up to the present moment, or so it was stated, had refused to +consider any other. As she had some basis for this conclusion--I am +still quoting the papers, you understand--I was not disposed to ignore +it in the study I proceeded to make of the situation. The details, as I +ran them over in the hurried trip I now made up the river to ----, were +as follows: + +On the afternoon of Wednesday, August sixteenth, 190-, the guests +assembled in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's white and gold music-room were suddenly +thrown into confusion by the appearance among them of a young girl in a +state of great perturbation, who, running up to the startled hostess, +announced that Gwendolen, the petted darling of the house, was missing +from the bungalow where she had been lying asleep, and could not be +found, though a dozen men had been out on search. + +The wretched mother, who, as it afterward transpired, had not only given +the orders by which the child had been thus removed from the excitement +up at the house, but had actually been herself but a few moments before +to see that the little one was well cared for and happy, seemed struck +as by a mortal blow at these words and, uttering a heart-rending scream, +ran out on the lawn. A crowd of guests rushed after her, and as they +followed her flying figure across the lawn to the small copse in which +lay hidden this favored retreat, they could hear, borne back on the +wind, the wild protests of the young nurse, that she had left the child +for a minute only and then to go no farther than the bench running along +the end of the bungalow facing the house; that she had been told she +could sit there and listen to the music, but that she never would have +left the child's side for a minute if she had not supposed she would +hear her least stir--protests which the mother scarcely seemed to heed, +and which were presently lost in the deep silence which fell on all, as, +brought to a stand in the thick shrubbery surrounding the bungalow, they +saw the mother stagger up to the door, look in and turn toward them with +death in her face. + +"The river!" she gasped, "the river!" and heedless of all attempt to +stop her, heedless even of the efforts made by the little one's nurse to +draw her attention to the nearness of a certain opening in the high +hedge marking off the Ocumpaugh grounds on this side, she ran down the +bank in the direction of the railway, but fainted before she had more +than cleared the thicket. When they lifted her up, they all saw the +reason for this. She had come upon a little shoe which she held with +frantic clutch against her breast--her child's shoe, which, as she +afterward acknowledged, she had loosened with her own hand on the little +one's foot. + +Of course, after this the whole hillside was searched down to the fence +which separated it from the railroad track. But no further trace of the +missing child was found, nor did it appear possible to any one that she +could have strayed away in this direction. For not only was the bank +exceedingly steep and the fence at its base impassable, but a gang of +men, working as good fortune would have it, at such a point on the road +below as to render it next to impossible for her to have crossed the +track within a half-mile either way without being observed, had one and +all declared that not one of them had seen her or any other person +descend the slope. + +This, however, made but little impression on the mother. She would +listen to no hints of abduction, but persisted in her declaration that +the river had swallowed her darling, and would neither rest nor turn her +head from its waters till some half a dozen men about the place had been +set systematically to work to drag the stream. + +Meanwhile, the police had been notified and the whole town aroused. The +search, which had been carried on up to this time in a frantic but +desultory way, now became methodical. Nor was it confined to the +Ocumpaugh estate. All the roads and byways within half a mile either way +were covered by a most careful investigation. All the near-by houses +were entered, especially those which the child was most in the habit of +frequenting, but no one had seen her, nor could any trace of her +presence be found. At five o'clock all hope of her return was abandoned +and, much against Mrs. Ocumpaugh's wish, who declared that the news of +the child's death would affect her father far less than the dreadful +possibilities of an abduction, the exact facts of the case had been +cabled to Mr. Ocumpaugh. + +The night and another day passed, bringing but little relief to the +situation. Not an eye had as yet been closed in Homewood, nor had the +search ceased for an instant. Not an inch of the great estate had been +overlooked, yet men could still be seen beating the bushes and peering +into all the secluded spots which once had formed the charm of this +delightful place. As on the land, so on the river. All the waters in the +dock had been dragged, yet the work went on, some said under the very +eye of Mrs. Ocumpaugh. But there was no result as yet. + +In the city the interest was intense. The telegraph at police +headquarters had been clicking incessantly for thirty-six hours under +the direction, some said, of the superintendent himself. Everything +which could be done had been done, but as yet the papers were able to +report nothing beyond some vague stories of a child, with its face very +much bound up, having been seen at the heels of a woman in the Grand +Central Station in New York, and hints of a covered wagon, with a crying +child inside, which had been driven through Westchester County at a +great pace shortly before sunset on the previous day, closely followed +by a buggy with the storm-apron up, though the sun shone and there was +not a cloud in the sky; but nothing definite, nothing which could give +hope to the distracted mother or do more than divide the attention of +the police between two different but equally tenable theories. Then came +the cablegram from Mr. Ocumpaugh, which threw amateur as well as +professional detectives into the field. Among the latter was myself; +which naturally brings me back once more to my own conclusions. + +Of one thing I felt sure. Very early in my cogitations, before we had +quitted the Park Avenue tunnel in fact, I had decided in my own mind +that if I were to succeed in locating the lost heiress, it must be by +subtler methods than lay open to the police. I was master of such +methods (in this case at least), and though one of many owning to +similar hopes on this very train which was rushing me through to +Homewood, I had no feeling but that of confidence in a final success. +How well founded this confidence was, will presently appear. + +The number of seedy-looking men with a mysterious air who alighted in my +company at ---- station and immediately proceeded to make their way up +the steep street toward Homewood, warned me that it would soon be +extremely difficult for any one to obtain access to the parties most +interested in the child's loss. Had I not possessed the advantage of +being already known to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I should have immediately given +up all hope of ever obtaining access to her presence; and even with this +fact to back me, I approached the house with very little confidence in +my ability to win my way through the high iron gates I had so +frequently passed before without difficulty. + +And indeed I found them well guarded. As I came nearer, I could see man +after man being turned away, and not till my card had been handed in, +and a hurried note to boot, did I obtain permission to pass the first +boundary. Another note secured me admission to the house, but there my +progress stopped. Mrs. Ocumpaugh had already been interviewed by five +reporters and a special agent from the New York police. She could see no +one else at present. If, however, my business was of importance, an +opportunity would be given me to see Miss Porter. Miss Porter was her +companion and female factotum. + +As I had calculated upon having a half-dozen words with the mother +herself, I was greatly thrown out by this; but going upon the principle +that "half a loaf was better than no bread," I was about to express a +desire to see Miss Porter, when an incident occurred which effectually +changed my mind in this regard. + +The hall in which I was standing and which communicated with the side +door by which I had entered, ended in a staircase, leading, as I had +reason to believe, to the smaller and less pretentious rooms in the rear +of the house. While I hesitated what reply to give the girl awaiting my +decision, I caught the sound of soft weeping from the top of this +staircase, and presently beheld the figure of a young woman coming +slowly down, clad in coat and hat and giving every evidence both in +dress and manner of leaving for good. It was Miss Graham, a young woman +who held the position of nursery-governess to the child. I had seen her +before, and had no small admiration for her, and the sensations I +experienced at the sight of her leaving the house where her services +were apparently no longer needed, proved to me, possibly for the first +time, that I had more heart in my breast than I had ever before +realized. But it was not this which led me to say to the maid standing +before me that I preferred to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself, and would call +early the next day. It was the thought that this sorrowing girl would +have to pass the gauntlet of many prying eyes on her way to the station +and that she might be glad of an escort whom she knew and had shown some +trust in. Also,--but the reasons behind that _also_ will soon become +sufficiently apparent. + +I was right in supposing that my presence on the porch outside would be +a pleasing surprise to her. Though her tears continued to flow she +accepted my proffered companionship with gratitude, and soon we were +passing side by side across the lawn toward a short cut leading down the +bank to the small flag-station used by the family and by certain favored +neighbors. As we threaded the shrubbery, which is very thick about the +place, she explained to me the cause of her abrupt departure. The sight +of her, it seems, had become insupportable to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Though no +blame could be rightfully attached to her, it was certainly true that +the child had been carried off while in her charge, and however hard it +might be for _her_, few could blame the mother for wishing her removed +from the house desolated by her lack of vigilance. But she was a good +girl and felt the humiliation of her departure almost in the light of a +disgrace. + +As we came again into an open portion of the lawn, she stopped short and +looked back. + +"Oh!" she cried, gripping me by the arm, "there is Mrs. Ocumpaugh still +at the window. All night she has stood there, except when she flew down +to the river at the sound of some imaginary call from the boats. She +believes, she really believes, that they will yet come upon Gwendolen's +body in the dock there." + +Following the direction of her glance, I looked up. Was that Mrs. +Ocumpaugh--that haggard, intent figure with eyes fixed in awful +expectancy on the sinister group I could picture to myself down at the +water's edge? Never could I have imagined such a look on features I had +always considered as cold as they were undeniably beautiful. As I took +in the misery it expressed, that awful waiting for an event momently +anticipated, and momently postponed, I found myself, without reason and +simply in response to the force of her expression, unconsciously sharing +her expectation, and with a momentary forgetfulness of all the +probabilities, was about to turn toward the spot upon which her glances +were fixed, when a touch on my arm recalled me to myself. + +"Come!" whispered my trembling companion. "She may look down and see us +here." + +I yielded to her persuasion and turned away into the cluster of trees +that lay between us and that opening in the hedge through which our +course lay. Had I been alone I should not have budged till I had seen +some change--any change--in the face whose appearance had so deeply +affected me. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh certainly believes that the body of her child lies in +the water," I remarked, as we took our way onward as rapidly as +possible. "Do you know her reasons for this?" + +"She says, and I think she is right so far, that the child has been bent +for a long time on fishing; that she has heard her father talk +repeatedly of his great luck in Canada last year and wished to try the +sport for herself; that she has been forbidden to go to the river, but +must have taken the first opportunity when no eye was on her to do so; +and--and--Mrs. Ocumpaugh shows a bit of string which she found last +night in the bushes alongside the tracks when she ran down, as I have +said, at some imaginary shout from the boats--a string which she +declares she saw rolled up in Gwendolen's hand when she went into the +bungalow to look at her. Of course, it may not be the same, but Mrs. +Ocumpaugh thinks it is, and--" + +"Do you think it possible, after all, that the child did stray down to +the water?" + +"No," was the vehement disclaimer. "Gwendolen's feet were excessively +tender. She could not have taken three steps in only one shoe. I should +have heard her cry out." + +"What if she went in some one's arms?" + +"A stranger's? She had a decided instinct against strangers. Never could +any one she did not know and like have carried her so far as that +without her waking. Then those men on the track,--they would have seen +her. No, Mr. Trevitt, it was not in _that_ direction she went." + +The force of her emphasis convinced me that she had an opinion of her +own in regard to this matter. Was it one she was ready to impart? + +"In what direction, then?" I asked, with a gentleness I hoped would +prove effective. + +Her impulse was toward a frank reply. I saw her lips part and her eyes +take on the look which precedes a direct avowal, but, as chance would +have it, we came at that moment upon the thicket inclosing the bungalow, +and the sight of its picturesque walls, showing brown through the +verdure of the surrounding shrubbery, seemed to act as a check upon her, +for, with a quick look and a certain dry accent quite new in her speech, +she suddenly inquired if I did not want to see the place from which +Gwendolen had disappeared. + +Naturally I answered in the affirmative and followed her as she turned +aside into the circular path which embraces this hidden retreat; but I +had rather have heard her answer to my question, than to have gone +anywhere or seen anything at that moment. Yet, when in full view of the +bungalow's open door, she stopped to point out to me the nearness of the +place to that opening in the hedge we had just been making for, and when +she even went so far as to indicate the tangled little path by which +that opening could be reached directly from the farther end of the +bungalow, I considered that my question had been answered, though in +another way than I anticipated, even before I noted the slight flush +which rose to her cheek under my earnest scrutiny. + +As it is important for the exact location of the bungalow to be +understood, I subjoin a diagram of this part of the grounds: + +[Illustration: LAWN EXTENDING TO THE HIGHWAY. + +A The Ocumpaugh mansion. B The Bungalow. C Mrs. Carew's house. D Private +path. E Gap in hedge leading to the Ocumpaugh grounds. F Gap leading +into Mrs. Carew's grounds. G Bench at end of bungalow.] + +As I took this all in, I ventured to ask some particulars of the family +living so near the Ocumpaughs. + +"Who occupies that house?" I asked, pointing to the sloping roofs and +ornamental chimneys arising just beyond us over the hedge-rows. + +"Oh, that is Mrs. Carew's home. She is a widow and Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +dearest friend. How she loved Gwendolen! How we all loved her! And now, +that _wretch_--" + +She burst into tears. They were genuine ones; so was her grief. + +I waited till she was calm again, then I inquired very softly: + +"What wretch?" + +"You have not been inside," she suggested, pointing sharply to the +bungalow. + +I took the implied rebuke and entered the door she indicated. A man was +sitting within, but he rose and went out when he saw us. He wore a +policeman's badge and evidently recognized her or possibly myself. I +noted, however, that he did not go far from the doorway. + +"It is only a den," remarked Miss Graham. + +I looked about me. She had described it perfectly: a place to lounge in +on an August day like the present. Walls of Georgia pine across one of +which hung a series of long dark rugs; a long, low window looking toward +the house, and a few articles of bamboo furniture describe the place. +Among the latter was a couch. It was drawn up underneath the window, on +the other side of which ran the bench where my companion declared she +had been sitting while listening to the music. + +"Wouldn't you think my attention would have been caught by the sound of +any one moving about here?" she cried, pointing to the couch and then to +the window. "But the window was closed and the door, as you see, is +round the corner from the bench." + +"A person with a very stealthy step, apparently." + +"Very," she admitted. "Oh, how can I ever forgive myself! how can I +ever, ever forgive myself!" + +As she stood wringing her hands in sight of that empty couch, I cast a +scrutinizing glance about me, which led me to remark: + +"This interior looks new; much newer than the outside. It has quite a +modern air." + +"Yes, the bungalow is old, very old; but this room, or den, or whatever +you might call it, was all remodeled and fitted up as you see it now +when the new house went up. It had long been abandoned as a place of +retreat, and had fallen into such decay that it was a perfect eyesore +to all who saw it. Now it is likely to be abandoned again, and for what +a reason! Oh, the dreadful place! How I hate it, now Gwendolen is gone!" + +"One moment. I notice another thing. This room does not occupy the whole +of the bungalow." + +Either she did not hear me or thought it unnecessary to reply; and +perceiving that her grief had now given way to an impatience to be gone, +I did not press the matter, but led the way myself to the door. As we +entered the little path which runs directly to that outlet in the hedge +marked E, I ventured to speak again: + +"You have reasons, or so it appears, for believing that the child was +carried off through this very path?" + +The reply was impetuous: + +"How else could she have been spirited away so quickly? Besides,--" here +her eye stole back at me over her shoulder,--"I have since remembered +that as I ran out of the bungalow in my fright at finding the child +gone, I heard the sound of wheels on Mrs. Carew's driveway. It did not +mean much to me then, for I expected to find the child somewhere about +the grounds; but _now_, when I come to think, it means everything, for a +child's cry mingled with it (or I imagined that it did) and that +child--" + +"But," I forcibly interposed, "the police should know this." + +"They do; and so does Mrs. Ocumpaugh; but she has only the one idea, and +nothing can move her." + +I remembered the wagon with the crying child inside which had been seen +on the roads the previous evening, and my heart fell a little in spite +of myself. + +"Couldn't Mrs. Carew tell us something about this?" I asked, with a +gesture toward the house we were now passing. + +"No. Mrs. Carew went to New York that morning and had only just returned +when we missed Gwendolen. She had been for her little nephew, who has +lately been made an orphan, and she was too busy making him feel at home +to notice if a carriage had passed through her grounds." + +"Her servants then?" + +"She had none. All had been sent away. The house was quite empty." + +I thought this rather odd, but having at this moment reached the long +flight of steps leading down the embankment, I made no reply till we +reached the foot. Then I observed: + +"I thought Mrs. Carew was very intimate with Mrs. Ocumpaugh." + +"She is; they are more like sisters than mere friends." + +"Yet she goes to New York the very day her friend gives a musicale." + +"Oh, she had good reasons for that. Mrs. Carew is planning to sail this +week for Europe, and this was her only opportunity for getting her +little nephew, who is to go with her. But I don't know as she will sail, +now. She is wild with grief over Gwendolen's loss, and will not feel +like leaving Mrs. Ocumpaugh till she knows whether we shall ever see the +dear child again. But, I shall miss my train." + +Here her step visibly hastened. + +As it was really very nearly due, I had not the heart to detain her. But +as I followed in her wake I noticed that for all her hurry a curious +hesitancy crept into her step at times, and I should not have been +surprised at any moment to see her stop and confront me on one of the +two remaining long flights of steps leading down the steep hillside. + +But we both reached the base without her having yielded to this impulse, +and presently we found ourselves in full view of the river and the small +flag-station located but a few rods away toward the left. As we turned +toward the latter, we both cast an involuntary look back at the +Ocumpaugh dock, where a dozen men could be seen at work dragging the +river-bed with grappling irons. It made a sadly suggestive picture, and +the young girl at my side shuddered violently as we noted the expression +of morbid curiosity on the faces of such onlookers, men and women, as +were drawn up at the end of the small point on which the boat-house +stood. + +But I had another reason than this for urging her on. I had noticed how, +at the sight of her slight figure descending the slope, some half-dozen +men or so had separated themselves from this group, with every +appearance of intending to waylay and question her. She noticed this +too, and drawing up more closely to my side, exclaimed with marked +feeling: + +"Save me from these men and I will tell you something that no one--" + +But here she stopped, here our very thoughts stopped. A shout had risen +from the group at the water-edge; a shout which made us both turn, and +even caused the men who had started to follow us to wheel about and rush +back to the dock with every appearance of intense excitement. + +"What is it? What can it be?" faltered my greatly-alarmed companion. + +"They have found something. See! what is that the man in the boat is +holding up? It looks like--" + +But she was already half-way to the point, outstripping the very men +whose importunities she had shrunk from a moment before. I was not far +behind her, and almost immediately we found ourselves wedged among the +agitated group leaning over the little object which had been tossed +ashore into the first hand outstretched to receive it. + +It was a second little shoe--filled with sand and dripping with water, +but recognizable as similar to the one already found on the preceding +day high up on the bank. As this fact was borne in on us all, a groan of +pity broke from more than one pair of lips, and eye after eye stole up +the hillside to that far window in the great pile above us where the +mother's form could be dimly discerned swaying in an agitation caught +from our own excitement. + +But there was one amongst us whose glance never left that little shoe. +The train she had been so anxious to take whistled and went thundering +by, but she never moved or noticed. Suddenly she reached out her hand. + +"Let me see it, please," she entreated. "I was her nurse; let me take it +in my hand." + +The man who held it passed it over. She examined it long and closely. + +"Yes, it is hers," said she. But in another moment she had laid it down +with what I thought was a very peculiar look. + +Instantly it was caught up and carried with a rush up the slope to where +Mrs. Ocumpaugh could be seen awaiting it with outstretched arms. But I +did not linger to mark her reception of it. Miss Graham had drawn me to +one side and was whispering in my ear: + +"I must talk to you. I can not keep back another moment what I think or +what I feel. Some one is playing with Mrs. Ocumpaugh's fears. That shoe +is Gwendolen's, but it is not the mate of the one found on the bank +above. That was for the left foot _and so is this one_. Did you not +notice?" + + + + +II + +"A FEARSOME MAN" + + +The effect of this statement upon me was greater than even she had +contemplated. + +"You thought the child had been stolen for the reward she would bring?" +she continued. "She was not; she was taken out of pure hate, and that is +why I suffer so. What may they not do to her! In what hole hide her! My +darling, O my darling!" + +She was going off into hysterics, but the look and touch I gave her +recalled her to herself. + +"We need to be calm," I urged. "You, because you have something of +importance to impart, and I, because of the action I must take as soon +as the facts you have concealed become known to me. What gives you such +confidence in this belief, which I am sure is not shared by the police, +and who is the _some one_ who, as you say, is playing upon Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's fears? A short time ago it was as _the wretch_ you spoke of +him. Are not _some one_ and _the wretch_ one and the same person, and +can you not give him now a name?" + +We had been moving all this time in the direction of the station and had +now reached the foot of the platform. Pausing, she cast a last look up +the bank. The trees were thick and hid from our view the Ocumpaugh +mansion, but in imagination she beheld the mother moaning over that +little shoe. + +"I shall never return there," she muttered; "why do I hesitate so to +speak!" Then in a burst, as I watched her in growing excitement: +"She--Mrs. Ocumpaugh--begged me not to tell what she believed had +nothing to do with our Gwendolen's loss. But I can not keep silence. +This proof of a conspiracy against herself certainly relieves me from +any promise I may have made her. Mr. Trevitt, I am positive that I know +who carried off Gwendolen." + +This was becoming interesting, intensely interesting to me. Glancing +about and noting that the group down at the water-edge had become +absorbed again in renewed efforts toward farther discoveries, I beckoned +her to follow me into the station. It was but a step, but it gave me +time to think. What was I encouraging this young girl to do? To reveal +to _me_, who had no claim upon her but that of friendship, a secret +which had not been given to the police? True, it might not be worth +much, but it was also true that it might be worth a great deal. Did she +know how much? I wanted money--few wanted it more--but I felt that I +could not listen to her story till I had fairly settled this point. I +therefore hastened to interpose a remark: + +"Miss Graham, you are good enough to offer to reveal some fact hitherto +concealed. Do you do this because you have no closer friend than myself, +or because you do not know what such knowledge may be worth to the +person you give it to--in money, I mean?" + +"In money? I am not thinking of money," was her amazed reply; "I am +thinking of Gwendolen." + +"I understand, but you should think of the practical results as well. +Have you not heard of the enormous reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh?" + +"No; I--" + +"Five thousand dollars for information; and fifty thousand to the one +who will bring her back within the week unharmed. Mr. Ocumpaugh cabled +to that effect yesterday." + +"It is a large sum," she faltered, and for a moment she hesitated. Then, +with a sweet and candid look which sank deep into my heart, she added +gravely: "I had rather not think of money in connection with Gwendolen. +If what I have to tell leads to her recovery, you can be trusted, I +know, to do what is right toward me. Mr. Trevitt, the man who stole her +from her couch and carried her away through Mrs. Carew's grounds in a +wagon or otherwise, is a long-haired, heavily whiskered man of sixty or +more years of age. His face is deeply wrinkled, but chiefly marked by a +long scar running down between his eyebrows, which are so shaggy that +they would quite hide his eyes if they were not lit up with an +extraordinary expression of resolution, carried almost to the point of +frenzy; a fearsome man, making your heart stand still when he pauses to +speak to you." + +Startled as I had seldom been, for reasons which will hereafter appear, +I surveyed her in mingled wonder and satisfaction. + +"His name?" I demanded. + +"I do not know his name." + +Again I stopped to look at her. + +"Does Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +"I do not think so. She only knows what I told her." + +"And what did you tell her?" + +"Ah! who are these?" + +Two or three persons had entered the station, probably to wait for the +next train. + +"No one who will molest you." + +But she was not content till we had withdrawn to where the time-table +hung up on the opposite wall. Turning about as if to consult it, she +told the following story. I never see a time-table now but I think of +her expression as she stood there looking up as if her mind were fixed +on what she probably did not see at all. + +"Last Wednesday--no, it was on the Wednesday preceding--I was taking a +ride with Gwendolen on one of the side roads branching off toward +Fordham. We were in her own little pony cart, and as we seldom rode +together like this, she had been chattering about a hundred things till +her eyes danced in her head and she looked as lovely as I had ever seen +her. But suddenly, just as we were about to cross a small wooden bridge, +I saw her turn pale and her whole sensitive form quiver. 'Some one I +don't like,' she cried. 'There is some one about whom I don't like. +Drive on, Ellie, drive on.' But before I could gather up the reins a +figure which I had not noticed before stepped from behind a tree at the +farther end of the bridge, and advancing into the middle of the road +with arms thrown out, stopped our advance. I have told you how he +looked, but I can give you no idea of the passionate fury lighting up +his eyes, or the fiery dignity with which he held his place and kept us +subdued to his will till he had looked the shrinking child all over, and +laughed, not as a madman laughs, oh, much too slow and ironically for +that! but like one who takes an unholy pleasure in mocking the happy +present with evil prophecy. Nothing that I can say will make you see him +as I saw him in that one instant, and though there was much in the +circumstance to cause fear, I think it was more awe than fright we felt, +so commanding was his whole appearance and so forcible the assurance +with which he held us there till he was ready to move. Gwendolen cried +out, but the imploring sound had no effect upon him; it only reawakened +his mirth and led him to say, in a clear, cold, mocking tone which I +hear yet, 'Cry out, little one, for your short day is nearly over. Silks +and feathers and carriages and servants will soon be a half-forgotten +memory to you; and right it is that it should be so. Ten days, little +one, only ten days more.' And with that he moved, and, slipping aside +behind the tree, allowed us to drive on. Mr. Trevitt, yesterday saw the +end of those ten days, and where is she now? Only that man knows. He is +one man in a thousand. Can not you find him?" + +She turned; a train was coming, a train which it was very evident she +felt it her duty to take. I had no right to detain her, but I found time +for a question or two. + +"And you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh this?" + +"The moment we arrived home." + +"And she? What did she think of it?" + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh is not a talkative woman. She grew very white and +clasped the child passionately in her arms. But the next minute she had +to all appearance dismissed the whole occurrence from her thoughts. +'Some socialistic fanatic,' she called him and merely advised me to stop +driving with Gwendolen for the present." + +"Didn't you recall the matter to her when you found the child missing?" + +"Yes; but then she appeared to regard it in a superstitious way only. It +was a warning of death, she said, and the man an irresponsible +clairvoyant. When I tried to urge my own idea upon her and describe how +I thought he might have obtained access to the bungalow and carried her +off, while still asleep, to some vehicle awaiting them in Mrs. Carew's +grounds, she only rebuked me for my folly and bade me keep still about +the whole occurrence, saying that I should only be getting some poor +half-demented old wretch into trouble for something for which he was not +in the least responsible." + +"A very considerate woman," I remarked; to which Miss Graham made reply +as the train came storming up: + +"Nobody knows how considerate, even if she has dismissed me rather +suddenly from her service. Don't let that wretch"--again she used the +word--"deceive her or you into thinking that the little one perished in +the water. Gwendolen is alive, I say. Find him and you will find her. I +saw his resolution in his eye." + +Here she made a rush for the cars, and I had time only to get her future +address before the train started and all further opportunity of +conversation between us was over for that day. + +I remained behind because I was by no means through with my +investigations. What she had told me only convinced me of the necessity +I had already recognized of making myself master of all that could be +learned at Homewood before undertaking the very serious business of +locating the child or even the aged man just described to me, and who I +was now sure had been the chief, if not the sole, instrument in her +abduction. + + + + +III + +A CHARMING WOMAN + + +Stopping only long enough to send a telegram to my partner in New York, +(for which purpose I had to walk along the tracks to the main station) I +returned by the short cut to Homewood. My purpose in doing this was +twofold. I should have a chance of seeing if the men were still at work +in the river, and I should also have the added opportunity of quietly +revisiting the bungalow, on the floor of which I had noted some +chalk-marks, which I felt called for a closer examination than I had +given them. As I came in view of the dock, I saw that the men were still +busy, but at a point farther out in the river, as if all hope had been +abandoned of their discovering anything more inshore. But the +chalk-marks in the bungalow were almost forgotten by me in the interest +I experienced in a certain adventure which befell me on my way there. + +I had just reached the opening in the hedge communicating with Mrs. +Carew's grounds, when I heard steps on the walk inside and a woman's +rich voice saying: + +"There, that will do. You must play on the other side of the house, +Harry. And Dinah, see that he does so, and that he does not cross the +hall again till I come back. The sight of so merry a child might kill +Mrs. Ocumpaugh if she happened to look this way." + +Moved by the tone, which was one in a thousand, I involuntarily peered +through the outlet I was passing, in the hope of catching a glimpse of +its owner, and thus was favored with the sight of a face which instantly +fixed itself in my memory as one of the most enchanting I had ever +encountered. Not from its beauty, yet it may have been beautiful; nor +from its youth, for the woman before me was not youthful, but from the +extraordinary eloquence of its expression caught at a rare moment when +the heart, which gave it life, was full. She was standing half-way down +the path, throwing kisses to a little boy who was leaning toward her +from an upper window. The child was laughing with glee, and it was this +laugh she was trying to check; but her countenance, as she made the +effort, was almost as merry as his, and yet was filled with such solemn +joy--such ecstasy of motherhood I should be inclined to call it, if I +had not been conscious that this must be Mrs. Carew and the child her +little nephew--that in my admiration for this exhibition of pure +feeling, I forgot to move on as she advanced into the hedge-row, and so +we came face to face. The result was as extraordinary to me as all the +rest. Instantly all the gay abandonment left her features, and she +showed me a grave, almost troubled, countenance, more in keeping with +her severe dress, which was as nearly like mourning as it could be and +not be made of crape. + +It was such a sudden change and of so complete a character, that I was +thrown off my guard for a moment and probably betrayed the curiosity I +undoubtedly felt; for she paused as she reached me, and, surveying me +very quietly but very scrutinizingly too, raised again that marvelous +voice of hers and pointedly observed: + +"This is a private path, sir. Only the friends of Mrs. Ocumpaugh or of +myself pass here." + +This was a speech calculated to restore my self-possession. With a bow +which evidently surprised her, I answered with just enough respect to +temper my apparent presumption: + +"I am here in the interests of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, to assist her in finding +her child. Moments are precious; so I ventured to approach by the +shorter way." + +"Pardon me!" The words did not come instantly, but after some +hesitation, during which she kept her eyes on my face in a way to rob me +of all thought save that she possessed a very strong magnetic quality, +to which it were well for a man like myself to yield. "You will be my +friend, too, if you succeed in restoring Gwendolen." Then quickly, as +she crossed to the Ocumpaugh grounds: "You do not look like a member of +the police. Are you here at Mrs. Ocumpaugh's bidding, and has she at +last given up all expectation of finding her child in the river?" + +I, too, thought a minute before answering, then I put on my most candid +expression, for was not this woman on her way to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and +would she not be likely to repeat what she heard me say? + +"I do not know how Mrs. Ocumpaugh feels at present. But I know what her +dearest wish is--to see her child again alive and well. That wish I +shall do my best to gratify. It is true that I am not a police +detective, but I have an agency of my own, well-known to both Mrs. and +Mr. Ocumpaugh. All its resources will be devoted to this business and I +hope to succeed, madam. If, as I suspect, you are on your way to Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, please tell her that Robert Trevitt, of Trevitt and Jupp, +hopes to succeed." + +"I _will_," she emphasized. Then stepping back to me in all the grace of +her thrilling personality, she eagerly added: "If there is any +information I can give, do not be afraid to ask me. I love children, and +would give anything in the world to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh as happy with +Gwendolen again as I am with my little nephew. Are you quite sure that +there is any possibility of this? I was told that the child's shoe has +been found in the river; but almost immediately following this +information came the report that there was something odd about this +shoe, and that Mrs. Ocumpaugh had gone into hysterics. Do _you_ know +what they meant by that? I was just going over to see." + +I did know what they meant, but I preferred to seem ignorant. + +"I have not seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I evasively rejoined. "But _I_ don't +look for the child to be drawn from the water." + +"Nor I," she repeated, with a hoarse catch in her breath. "It is +thirty-six hours since we lost her. Time enough for the current to have +carried her sweet little body far away from here." + +I surveyed the lady before me in amazement. + +"Then _you_ think she strayed down to the water?" + +"Yes; it would madden me to believe otherwise; loving her so well, and +her parents so well, I dare not think of a worse fate." + +Taking advantage of her amiability and the unexpected opportunity it +offered for a leading question, I hereupon ventured to say: "You were +not at home, I hear, when she vanished from the bungalow." + +"No; that is, if it happened before three o'clock. I arrived from the +station just as the clock was striking the hour, and having my little +nephew with me, I was too much occupied in reconciling him to his new +home, to hear or see anything outside. Most unfortunate!" she mourned, +"most unfortunate! I shall never cease reproaching myself. A tragedy at +my door"--here she glanced across the shrubbery at the bungalow--"and I +occupied with my own affairs!" + +With a flush, the undoubted result of her own earnestness, she turned as +if to go. But I could not let her depart without another question: + +"Excuse me, Mrs. Carew, but you gave me permission to seem importunate. +With the exception of her nurse, you were the one person nearest the +bungalow at the time. Didn't you hear a carriage drive through your +grounds at about the hour the alarm was first started? I know you have +been asked this before, but not by me; and it is a very important fact +to have settled; very important for those who wish to discover this +child at once." + +For reply she gave me a look of very honest amazement. + +"Of course I did," she replied. "I came in a carriage myself from the +station and naturally heard it drive away." + +At her look, at her word, the thread which I had seized with such +avidity seemed to slip from my fingers. Had little Miss Graham's theory +no better foundation than this? and were the wheels she heard only +those of Mrs. Carew's departing carriage? I resolved to press the matter +even if I ran the risk of displeasing her. + +"Mrs. Carew--for it must be Mrs. Carew I am addressing--did your little +nephew cry when you first brought him to the house?" + +"I think he did," she admitted slowly; "I think he did." + +I must have given evidence of the sudden discouragement this brought me, +for her lips parted and her whole frame trembled with sudden +earnestness. + +"Did you think--did any one think--that those cries came from Gwendolen? +That she was carried out through my grounds? Could any one have thought +that?" + +"I have been told that the nursery-governess did." + +"Little Miss Graham? Poor girl! she is but defending herself from +despair. She is ready to believe everything but that the child is dead." + +Was it so? Was I following the false light of a will-o'-the-wisp? No, +no; the strange coincidence of the threat made on the bridge with the +disappearance of the child on the day named, was at least real. The +thread had not altogether escaped from my hands. It was less tangible, +but it was still there. + +"You may be right," I acquiesced, for I saw that her theories were +entirely opposed to those of Miss Graham. "But we must try everything, +_everything_." + +I was about to ask whether she had ever seen in the adjoining grounds, +or on the roads about, an old man with long hair and a remarkable scar +running down between his eyebrows, when a young girl in the cap and +apron of a maid-servant came running through the shrubbery from the +Ocumpaugh house, and, seeing Mrs. Carew, panted out: + +"Oh, do come over to the house, Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Ocumpaugh has been told +that the two shoes which have been found, one on the bank and the other +in the river, are not mates, and it has quite distracted her. She has +gone to her room and will let no one else in. We can hear her moaning +and crying, but we can do nothing. Perhaps she will see you. She called +for you, I know, before she shut her door." + +"I will go." Mrs. Carew had turned quite pale, and from standing upright +in the road, had moved so as to gain support from one of the hedges. + +I expected to see her turn and go as soon as her trembling fit was over, +but she did not, though she waved the girl away as if she intended to +follow her. Had I not learned to distrust my own impression of people's +motives from their manners and conduct, I should have said that she was +waiting for me to precede her. + +"Two shoes and not mates!" she finally exclaimed. "What does she mean?" + +"Simply that another shoe has been drawn up from the river-bottom which +does not mate the one picked up near the bungalow. Both are for the left +foot." + +"Ah!" gasped this sympathetic woman. "And what inference can we draw +from that?" + +I should not have answered her; but the command in her eyes or the +thrilling effect of her manner compelled me, and I spoke the truth at +once, just as I might have done to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, or, better still, to +Mr. Ocumpaugh, if either had insisted. + +"But one," said I. "There is a conspiracy on the part of one or more +persons to delude Mrs. Ocumpaugh into believing the child dead. They +blundered over it, but they came very near succeeding." + +"Who blundered, and what is the meaning of the conspiracy you hint at? +Tell me. Tell me what such men as you think." + +Her plastic features had again shown a change. She was all anxiety now; +cheeks burning, eyes blazing--a very beautiful woman. + +"We think that the case looks serious. We think from the very mystery it +displays, that there is a keen intelligence back of this crime. I can +not go any further than that. The affair is as yet too obscure." + +"You amaze me!" she faltered, making an effort to collect her thoughts. +"I have always thought, just as Mrs. Ocumpaugh has, that the child had +somehow found her way to the water and was drowned. But if all this is +true we shall have to face a worse evil. A conspiracy against such a +tender little being as that! A conspiracy, and for what? Not to extort +money, or why these blundering efforts to make the child appear dead?" + +She was the same sympathetic woman, agitated by real feeling as before, +yet at this moment--I do not understand now just why--I became aware of +an inner movement of caution against too great a display of candor on my +own part. + +"Madam, it is all a mystery at present. I am sure that the police will +tell you the same. But another day may bring developments." + +"Let us hope so!" was her ardent reply, accompanied by a gesture, the +freedom of which suited her style and person as it would not have done +those of a less impressionable woman. And, seeing that I had no +intention of leaving the spot where I stood, she moved at last from +where she held herself upright against the hedge, and entered the +Ocumpaugh grounds. "Will you call in to see me to-morrow?" she asked, +pausing to look back at a turn in the path. "I shall not sleep to-night +for thinking of those possible developments." + +"Since you permit me," I returned; "that is, if I am still here. Affairs +may call me away at any moment." + +"Yes, and so with me. Affairs may call me away also. I was to sail on +Saturday for Liverpool. Only Mrs. Ocumpaugh's distress detains me. If +the situation lightens, if we hear any good news to-night, or even early +to-morrow, I shall continue my preparations, which will take me again +to New York." + +"I will call if you are at home." + +She gave me a slight nod and vanished. + +Why did I stand a good three minutes where she had left me, thinking, +but not getting anything from my thoughts, save that I was glad that I +had not been betrayed into speaking of the old man Miss Graham had met +on the bridge? Yet it might have been well, after all, if I had done so, +if only to discover whether Mrs. Ocumpaugh had confided this occurrence +to her most intimate friend. + + + + +IV + +CHALK-MARKS + + +My next move was toward the bungalow. Those chalk-marks still struck me +as being worthy of investigation, and not only they, but the bungalow +itself. That certainly merited a much closer inspection than I had been +able to give it under Miss Graham's eye. + +It was not quite a new place to me, nor was I so ignorant of its history +(and it had a history) as I had appeared to be in my conversation with +Miss Graham. Originally it had been a stabling place for horses; and +tradition said that it had once harbored for a week the horse of General +Washington. This was when the house on the knoll above had been the seat +and home of one of our most famous Revolutionary generals. Later, as the +trees grew up around this building, it attracted the attention of a new +owner, William Ocumpaugh, the first of that name to inhabit Homewood, +and he, being a man of reserved manners and very studious habits, +turned it into what we would now call, as Miss Graham did, a den, but +which he styled a pavilion, and used as a sort of study or reading-room. + +His son, who inherited it, Judge Philo Ocumpaugh, grandfather of the +present Philo, was as studious as his father, but preferred to read and +write in the quaint old library up at the house, famous for its wide +glass doors opening on to the lawn, and its magnificent view of the +Hudson. His desk, which many remember (it has a place in the present +house, I believe), was so located that for forty years or more he had +this prospect ever before him, a prospect which included the sight of +his own pavilion, around which, for no cause apparent to his +contemporaries, he had caused a high wall to be built, effectually +shutting in both trees and building. + +This wall has since been removed; but I have often heard it spoken of, +and always with a certain air of mystery; possibly because, as I have +said, there seemed no good reason for its erection, the place holding no +treasure and the gate standing always open; possibly because of its +having been painted, in defiance of all harmony with everything about +the place, a dazzling white; and possibly because it had not been raised +till after the death of the judge's first wife, who, some have said, +breathed her last within the precincts it inclosed. + +However that may be, there seems to be no doubt that this place exerted, +very likely against his will, for he never visited it, a singular +fascination over the secretive mind of this same upright but strangely +taciturn ancestor of the Ocumpaughs. For during the forty years in which +he wrote and read at this desk, the shutters guarding the door +overlooking those decaying walls were never drawn to, or so the +tradition runs; and when he died, it was found that, by a clause in his +will, this pavilion, hut or bungalow, all of which names it bore at +different stages of its existence, was recommended to the notice of his +heirs as an object which they were at liberty to leave in its present +forsaken condition, though he did not exact this, but which was never, +under any circumstances or to serve any purpose, to be removed from its +present site, or even to suffer any demolition save such as came with +time and the natural round of the seasons, to whose tender mercies he +advised it to be left. In other words, it was to stand, and to stand +unmolested, till it fell of its own accord, or was struck to the earth +by lightning--a tragic alternative in the judgment of those who knew it +for a structure of comparative insignificance, and one which, in the +minds of many, and perhaps I may say in my own, appeared to point to +some serious and unrevealed cause not unlinked with the almost forgotten +death of that young wife to which I have just alluded. + +This was years ago, far back in the fifties, and his son, who was a +minor at his death, grew up and assumed his natural proprietorship. The +hut--it was nothing but a hut now--had remained untouched--a ruin no +longer habitable. The spirit, as well as the letter, of that particular +clause in his father's will had so far been literally obeyed. The walls +being of stone, had withstood decay, and still rose straight and firm; +but the roof had begun to sag, and whatever of woodwork yet remained +about it had rotted and fallen away, till the building was little more +than a skeleton, with holes for its windows and an open gap for its +door. + +As for the surrounding wall, it no longer stood out, an incongruous +landmark, from its background of trees and shrubbery. Young shoots had +started up and old branches developed till brick and paint alike were +almost concealed from view by a fresh girdle of greenery. + +And now comes the second mystery. + +Sometime after this latter Ocumpaugh had attained his majority--his name +was Edwin, and he was, as you already imagine, the father of the present +Philo--he made an attempt--a daring one it was afterward called--to +brighten this neglected spot and restore it to some sort of use, by +giving a supper to his friends within its broken-down walls. + +This supper was no orgy, nor were the proprieties in any way +transgressed by so harmless a festivity; yet from this night a singular +change was observed in this man. Pleasure no longer charmed him, and +instead of repeating the experiment I have just described, he speedily +evinced such an antipathy to the scene of his late revel that only from +the greatest necessity would he ever again visit that part of the +grounds. + +What did it mean? What had occurred on that night of innocent enjoyment +to disturb or alarm him? Had some note in his own conscience been struck +by an act which, in his cooler moments, he may have looked upon as a +species of sacrilege? Or had some whisper from the past reached him amid +the feasting, the laughing and the jesting, to render these old walls +henceforth intolerable to him? He never said, but whatever the cause of +this sudden aversion, the effect was deep and promised to be lasting. +For, one morning, not long after this event, a party of workmen was seen +leaving these grounds at daybreak, and soon it was noised about that a +massive brick partition had been put up across the interior of this same +pavilion, completely shutting off, for no reason that any one could see, +some ten feet of what had been one long and undivided room. + +It was a strange act enough; but when, a few days later, it was followed +by one equally mysterious, and they saw the encircling wall which had +been so carefully raised by Judge Ocumpaugh ruthlessly pulled down, and +every sign of its former presence there destroyed, wonder filled the +highway and the curiosity of neighbors and friends passed all bounds. + +But no explanations were volunteered then or ever. People might query +and peer, but they learned nothing. What was left open to view told no +tales beyond the old one, and as for the single window which was the +sole opening into the shut-off space, it was then, as now, so completely +blocked up by a network of closely impacted vines, that it offered +little more encouragement than the wall itself to the eyes of such +curiosity-mongers as crept in by way of the hedge-rows to steal a look +at the hut, and if possible gain a glimpse of an interior which had +suddenly acquired, by the very means taken to shut it off from every +human eye, a new importance pointing very decidedly toward the tragic. + +But soon even this semblance of interest died out or was confined to +strange tales whispered under breath on weird nights at neighboring +firesides, and the old neglect prevailed once more. The whole place--new +brick and old stone--seemed doomed to a common fate under the hand of +time, when the present Philo Ocumpaugh, succeeding to the property, +brought new wealth and business enterprise into the family, and the old +house on the hill was replaced by the marble turrets of Homewood, and +this hut--or rather the portion open to improvement--was restored to +some sort of comfort, and rechristened the bungalow. + +Was fate to be appeased by this effort at forgetfulness? No. In +emulation of the long abandoned portion so hopelessly cut off by that +dividing wall, this brightly-furnished adjunct to the great house had +linked itself in the minds of men to a new mystery--the mystery which I +had come there to solve, if wit and patience could do it, aided by my +supposedly unshared knowledge of a fact connecting me with this family's +history in a way it little dreamed of. + +Naturally, my first look was at the building itself. I have described +its location and the room from which the child was lost. What I wanted +to see now, after studying those chalk-marks, was whether that partition +which had been put in, was as impassable as was supposed. + +The policeman on guard having strolled a few feet away, I approached +the open doorway without hindrance, and at once took that close look I +had promised myself, of the marks which I had observed scrawled broadly +across the floor just inside the threshold. They were as interesting and +fully as important as I had anticipated. Though nearly obliterated by +the passing of the policeman's feet across them, I was still enabled to +read the one word which appeared to me significant. + +If you will glance at the following reproduction of a snap-shot which I +took of this scrawl, you will see what I mean. + +[Illustration] + +The significant character was the 16. Taken with the "ust," there could +be no doubt that the whole writing had been a record of the date on +which the child had disappeared: August 16, 190-. + +This in itself was of small consequence if the handwriting had not +possessed those marked peculiarities which I believed belonged to but +one man--a man I had once known--a man of reverend aspect, upright +carriage and a strong distinguishing mark, like an old-time scar, +running straight down between his eyebrows. This had been my thought +when I first saw it. It was doubly so on seeing it again after the +doubts expressed by Miss Graham of a threatening old man who possessed +similar characteristics. + +Satisfied on this point, I turned my attention to what still more +seriously occupied it. The three or four long rugs, which hung from the +ceiling across the whole wall at my left, evidently concealed the +mysterious partition put up in Mr. Ocumpaugh's father's time directly +across this portion of the room. Was it a totally unbroken partition? I +had been told so; but I never accept such assertions without a personal +investigation. + +Casting a glance through the doorway and seeing that it would take my +dreaming friend, the policeman, some two or three minutes yet to find +his way back to his post, I hastily lifted these rugs aside, one after +the other, and took a look behind them. A stretch of Georgia pine, laid, +as I readily discovered by more than one rap of my knuckles, directly +over the bricks it was intended to conceal, was visible under each; +from end to end a plain partition with no indications of its having been +tampered with since the alterations were first made. + +Dismissing from my mind one of those vague possibilities, which add such +interest to the calling of a detective, I left the place, with my full +thought concentrated on the definite clue I had received from the +chalk-marks. + +But I had not walked far before I met with a surprise which possibly +possessed a significance equal to anything I had already observed, if +only I could have fully understood it. + +On the path into which I now entered, I encountered again the figure of +Mrs. Carew. Her face was turned full on mine, and she had evidently +retraced her steps to have another instant's conversation with me. The +next moment I was sure of this. Her eyes, always magnetic, shone with +increasing brightness as I advanced to meet her, and her manner, while +grave, was that of a woman quite conscious of the effect she produced by +her least word or action. + +"I have returned to tell you," said she, "that I have more confidence in +your efforts than in those of the police officers around here. If +Gwendolen's fate is determined by any one it will be by you. So I want +to be of aid to you if I can. Remember that. I may have said this to you +before, but I wish to impress it upon you." + +There was a flutter in her movements which astonished me. She was +surveying me in a straightforward way, and I could not but feel the fire +and force of her look. Happily she was no longer a young woman or I +might have misunderstood the disturbance which took place in my own +breast as I waited for the musical tones to cease. + +"You are very good," I rejoined. "I need help, and shall be only too +glad to receive your assistance." + +Yet I did question her, though I presently found myself walking toward +the house at her side. She may not have expected me to presume so far. +Certainly she showed no dissatisfaction when, at a parting in the path, +I took my leave of her and turned my face in the direction of the gates. +A strange sweet woman, with a power quite apart from the physical charms +which usually affect men of my age, but one not easily read nor parted +from unless one had an imperative errand, as I had. + +This errand was to meet and forestall the messenger boy whom I momently +expected with the answer to my telegram. That an opportunity for gossip +was likewise afforded by the motley group of men and boys drawn up near +one of the gate-posts, gave an added interest to the event which I was +quite ready to appreciate. Approaching this group, I assimilated myself +with it as speedily as possible, and, having some tact for this sort of +thing, soon found myself the recipient of various gratuitous opinions as +to the significance of the find which had offered such a problem both to +the professional and unprofessional detective. Two mismated shoes! Had +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh by any chance worn such? No--or the ones mating them +would have been found in her closet, and this, some one shouted out, had +not been done. Only the one corresponding to that fished up from the +waters of the dock had come to light; the other, the one which the child +must really have worn, was no nearer being found than the child herself. +What did it all mean? No one knew; but all attempted some sort of +hazardous guess which I was happy to see fell entirely short of the +mark. + +There was not a word of the vindictive old man described by Miss Graham, +till I myself introduced the topic. My reason or rather my excuse for +introducing it was this: + +On the gate-post near me I had observed the remnants of a strip of paper +which had been pasted there and afterward imperfectly torn off. It had +an unsightly look, but I did not pay much attention to it till some +movement in the group forced me a little nearer to the post, when I was +surprised enough to see that this scrap of paper showed signs of words, +and that these words gave evidence of being a date written in the very +hand I now had no difficulty in recognizing as that of the old man +uppermost in my own mind, even if he were not the one whom Miss Graham +had seen on the bridge. This date--strange to say--was the same +significant one already noted on the floor of the bungalow--a fact which +I felt merited an explanation if any one about me could give it. + +Waiting, therefore, for a lull in the remarks passing between the +stable-men and other employees about the place, I drew the attention of +the first man who would listen, to the half torn-off strip of paper on +the post, and asked if that was the way the Ocumpaughs gave notice of +their entertainments. + +He started, then turned his back on me. + +"That wasn't put there for the entertainment," he growled; "that was +pasted up there by some one who wanted to show off his writin'. There +don't seem to be no other reason." + +As the man who spoke these words had thereby proved himself a blockhead, +I edged away from him as soon as possible toward a very decent looking +fellow who appeared to have more brains than speech. + +"Do you know who pasted that date upon the post?" I inquired. + +He answered very directly. + +"No, or I should have been laying for him long before this. Why, it is +not only there you can see it. I found it pinned to the carriage +cushions one day just as I was going to drive Mrs. Ocumpaugh out." +(Evidently I had struck upon the coachman.) "And not only that. One of +the girls up at the house--one as I knows pretty well--tells me--I don't +care who hears it now--that it was written across a card which was left +at the door for Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and all in the same handwriting, which +is not a common one, as you can see. This means something, seeing it +was the date when our bad luck fell on us." + +He had noted that. + +"You don't mean to say that these things were written and put about +before the date you see on them." + +"But I do. Would we have noticed since? But who are you, sir, if I may +ask? One of them detective fellows? If so, I have a word to say: Find +that child or Mrs. Ocumpaugh's blood will be on your head! She'll not +live till Mr. Ocumpaugh comes home unless she can show him his child." + +"Wait!" I called out, for he was turning away toward the stable. "You +know who wrote those slips?" + +"Not a bit of it. No one does. Not that anybody thinks much about them +but me." + +"The police must," I ventured. + +"May be, but they don't say anything about it. Somehow it looks to me as +if they were all at sea." + +"Possibly they are," I remarked, letting him go as I caught sight of a +small boy coming up the road with several telegrams in his hand. + +"Is one of those directed to Robert Trevitt?" I asked, crowding up with +the rest, as his small form was allowed to slip through the gate. + +"Spec's there is," he replied, looking them over and handing me one. + +I carried it to one side and hastily tore it open. It was, as I +expected, from my partner, and read as follows: + + Man you want has just returned after two days' absence. Am on + watch. Saw him just alight from buggy with what looked like + sleeping child in his arms. Closed and fastened front door after + him. Safe for to-night. + +Did I allow my triumph to betray itself? I do not think so. The question +which kept down my elation was this: Would I be the first man to get +there? + + + + +V + +THE OLD HOUSE IN YONKERS + + +The old man whose handwriting I had now positively identified was a +former employer of mine. I had worked in his office when a lad. He was a +doctor of very fair reputation in Westchester County, and I recognized +every characteristic of his as mentioned by Miss Graham, save the frenzy +which she described as accompanying his address. + +In those days he was calm and cold and, while outwardly scrupulous, +capable of forgetting his honor as a physician under a sufficiently +strong temptation. I had left him when new prospects opened, and in the +years which had elapsed had contented myself with the knowledge that his +shingle still hung out in Yonkers, though his practice was nothing to +what it used to be when I was in his employ. Now I was going to see him +again. + +That his was the hand which had stolen Gwendolen seemed no longer open +to doubt. That she was under his care in the curious old house I +remembered in the heart of Yonkers, seemed equally probable; but why so +sordid a man--one who loved money above everything else in the +world--should retain the child one minute after the publication of the +bountiful reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh, was what I could not at first +understand. Miss Graham's theory of hate had made no impression on me. +He was heartless and not likely to be turned aside from any project he +had formed, but he was not what I considered vindictive where nothing +was to be gained. Yet my comprehension of him had been but a boy's +comprehension, and I was now prepared to put a very different estimate +on one whose character had never struck me as being an open one, even +when my own had been most credulous. + +That my enterprise, even with the knowledge I possessed of this man, +promised well or held out any prospects of easy fulfilment, I no longer +allowed myself to think. If money was his object--and what other could +influence a man of his temperament?--the sum offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh, +large though it was, had apparently not sufficed to satisfy his greed. +He was holding back the child, or so I now believed, in order to wring +a larger, possibly a double, amount from the wretched mother. Fifty +thousand was a goodly sum, but one hundred thousand was better; and this +man had gigantic ideas where his cupidity was concerned. I remember how +firmly he had once stood out for ten thousand dollars when he had been +offered five; and I began to see, though in an obscure way as yet, how +it might very easily be a part of his plan to work Mrs. Ocumpaugh up to +a positive belief in the child's death before he came down upon her for +the immense reward he had fixed his heart upon. The date he had written +all over the place might thus find some explanation in a plan to weaken +her nerve before pressing his exorbitant claims upon her. + +Nothing was clear, yet everything was possible in such a nature; and +anxious to enter upon the struggle both for my own sake and that of the +child of whose condition under that terrible eye I scarcely dared to +think, I left Homewood in haste and took the first train for Yonkers. +Though the distance was not great, I had fully arranged my plans before +entering the town where so many of my boyish years had been spent. I +knew the old fox well enough, or thought I did, to be certain that I +should have anything but an easy entrance into his house, in case it +still harbored the child whom my partner had seen carried in there. I +anticipated difficulties, but was concerned about none but the +possibility of not being able to bring myself face to face with him. +Once in his presence, the knowledge which I secretly possessed of an old +but doubtful transaction of his, would serve to make him mine even to +the point of yielding up the child he had forcibly abducted. But would +he accord me an interview? Could I, without appeal to the police--and +you can readily believe I was not anxious to allow them to put their +fingers in my pie--force him to open his door and let me into his house, +which, as I well recalled, he locked up at nine--after which he would +receive no one, not even a patient? + +It was not nine yet, but it was very near that hour. I had but twenty +minutes in which to mount the hill to the old house marked by the +doctor's sign and by another peculiarity of so distinct a nature that it +would serve to characterize a dwelling in a city as large as New +York--though I doubt if New York can show its like from the Battery to +the Bronx. The particulars of this I will mention later. I have first to +relate the relief I felt when, on entering the old neighborhood, I heard +in response to a few notes of a certain popular melody which I had +allowed to leave my lips, an added note or two which warned me that my +partner was somewhere hidden among the alleys of this very +unaristocratic quarter. Indeed, from the sound, I judged him to be in +the rear of the doctor's house and, being anxious to hear what he had to +say before advancing upon the door which might open my way to easy +fortune or complete defeat, I paused a few steps off and waited for his +appearance. + +He was at my elbow before I had either seen or heard him. He was always +light of foot, but this time he seemed to have no tread at all. + +"Still here," was his comforting assurance. + +"Both?" I whispered back. + +"Both." + +"Any one else?" + +"No. A boy drove away the buggy and has not come back. Sawbones keeps no +girl." + +"Is the child quiet? Has there been no alarm?" + +"Not a breath." + +"No cops in the neighborhood? No spies around?" + +"Not one. We've got it all this time. But--" + +"Hush!" + +"There's nobody." + +"Yes, the doctor; he's fastening up his house. I must hasten; nothing +would induce me to let that innocent remain under his roof all night." + +"It's not the windows he is at." + +"What then?" + +"The door, the big front door." + +"The--" + +"Yes." + +I gave my partner a surprised look, undoubtedly lost in the darkness, +and drew a step nearer the house. + +"It's just the same old gloom-box," I exclaimed, and paused for an +instant to mark the changes which had taken place in the surroundings. +They were very few and I turned back to fix my eye on the front door +where a rattling sound could be heard, as of some one fingering the +latch. It was this door which formed the peculiarity of the house. In +itself it was like any other that was well-fashioned and solid, but it +opened upon space--that is, if it was ever opened, which I doubted. The +stoop and even the railing which had once guarded it, had all been +removed, leaving a bare front, with this inhospitable entrance shut +against every one who had not the convenience for mounting to it by a +ladder. There was another way in, but this was round on one side, and +did not present itself to the eye unless one approached from the west +end of the street; so that to half the passers-by the house looked like +a deserted one till they came abreast of the flagged path which led to +the office door. As the windows had never been unclosed in my day and +were not now, I took it for granted that they had remained thus +inhospitably shut during all the years of my absence, which certainly +offered but little encouragement to a man bent on an errand which would +soon take him into those dismal precincts. + +"What goes on behind those shuttered windows?" thought I. "I know of one +thing, but what else?" The one thing was the counting of money and the +arranging of innumerable gold pieces on the great top of a baize-covered +table in what I should now describe as the back parlor. I remembered how +he used to do it. I caught him at it once, having crept up one windy +night from my little room off the office to see what kept the doctor up +so late. + +As I now stood listening in the dark street to those strange touches on +a door disused for years, I recalled the tremor with which I rounded the +top of the stair that night of long ago and the mingled fear and awe +with which I recognized, not only such a mint of money as I had never +seen out of the bank before, but the greedy and devouring passion with +which he pushed the glittering coins about and handled the bank-notes +and gloated over the pile it all made when drawn together by his hooked +fingers, till the sound, perhaps, of my breathing in the dark hall +startled him with a thought of discovery, and his two hands came +together over that pile with a gesture more eloquent even than the look +with which he seemed to penetrate the very shadows in the silent space +wherein I stood. It was a vision short, but inexpressibly vivid, of the +miser incarnate, and having seen it and escaped detection, as was my +undeserved luck that night, I needed never to ask again why he had been +willing to accept risks from which most men shrink from fear if not from +conscience. He loved money, not as the spender loves it, openly and +with luxurious instincts, but secretly and with a knavish dread of +discovery which spoke of treasure ill acquired. + +And now he was seeking to add to his gains, and I stood on the outside +of his house listening to sounds I did not understand, instead of +attempting to draw him to the office-door by ringing the bell he never +used to disconnect till nine. + +"Do you know that I don't quite like the noises which are being made up +there?" came in a sudden whisper to my ear. "Supposing it was the child +trying to get out! She does not know there is no stoop; she seemed +sleeping or half-dead when he carried her in, and if by any chance she +has got hold of the key and the door should open--" + +"Hush!" I cried, starting forward in horror of the thought he had +suggested. "It is opening. I see a thread of light. What does it mean, +Jupp? The child? No; there is more than a child's strength in that push. +Hist!" Here I drew him flat against the wall. The door above had swung +back and some one was stamping on the threshold over our heads in what +appeared to be an outburst of ungovernable fury. + +That it was the doctor I could not doubt. But why this anger; why this +mad gasping after breath and the half-growl, half-cry, with which he +faced the night and the quiet of a street which to his glance, passing +as it did over our heads, must have appeared altogether deserted? We +were consulting each other's faces for some explanation of this +unlooked-for outbreak, when the door above us suddenly slammed to and we +heard a renewal of that fumbling with lock and key which had first drawn +our attention. But the hand was not sure or the hall was dark, for the +key did not turn in the lock. Suddenly awake to my opportunity, I +wheeled Jupp about and, making use of his knee and back, climbed up till +I was enabled to reach the knob and turn it just as the man within had +stepped back, probably to procure more light. + +The result was that the door swung open and I stumbled in, falling +almost face downward on the marble floor faintly checkered off to my +sight in the dim light of a lamp set far back in a bare and dismal hall. +I was on my feet again in an instant and it was in this manner, and with +all the disadvantages of a hatless head and a disordered countenance, +that I encountered again my old employer after five years of absence. + +He did not recognize me. I saw it by the look of alarm which crossed his +features and the involuntary opening of his lips in what would certainly +have been a loud cry if I had not smiled and cried out with false +gaiety: + +"Excuse me, doctor, I never came in by that door before. Pardon my +awkwardness. The step is somewhat high from the street." + +My smile is my own, they say; at all events it served to enlighten him. + +"Bob Trevitt," he exclaimed, but with a growl of displeasure I could +hardly condemn under the circumstances. + +I hastened to push my advantage, for he was looking very threateningly +toward the door which was swaying gently and in an inviting way to a man +who if old, had more power in his arms than I had in my whole body. + +"_Mr._ Trevitt," I corrected; "and on a very important errand. I am here +on behalf of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose child you have at this moment under +your roof." + + + + +VI + +DOCTOR POOL + + +It was a direct attack and for a minute I doubted if I had not made a +mistake in making it so suddenly and without gloves. His face purpled, +the veins on his forehead started out, his great form shook with an ire +that in such domineering natures as his can only find relief in a blow. +But the right hand did not rise nor the heavy fist fall. With admirable +self-restraint he faced me for a moment, without attempting either +protest or denial. Then his blazing eyes cooled down, and with a sudden +gesture which at once relaxed his extreme tension of nerve and muscle, +he pointed toward the end of the hall and remarked with studied +politeness: + +"My office is below, as you know. Will you oblige me by following me +there?" + +I feared him, for I saw that studiously as he sought to hide his +impressions, he too regarded the moment as one of critical +significance. But I assumed an air of perfect confidence, merely +observing as I left the neighborhood of the front door and the proximity +of Jupp: + +"I have friends on the outside who are waiting for me; so you must not +keep me too long." + +He was bending to take up the lamp from a small table near the basement +stair as I threw out these words in apparent carelessness, and the flash +which shot from under his shaggy brows was thus necessarily heightened +by the glare in which he stood. Yet with all allowances made I marked +him down in my own mind as dangerous, and was correspondingly surprised +when he turned on the top step of the narrow staircase I remembered so +vividly from the experience I have before named, and in the mildest of +accents remarked: + +"These stairs are a trifle treacherous. Be careful to grasp the +hand-rail as you come down." + +Was the game deeper than I thought? In all my remembrance of him I had +never before seen him look benevolent, and it alarmed me, coming as it +did after the accusation I had made. I felt tempted to make a stand and +demand that the interview be held then and there. For I knew his +subterranean office very well, and how difficult it would be to raise a +cry there which could be heard by any one outside. Still, with a +muttered, "Thank you," I proceeded to follow him down, only stopping +once in the descent to listen for some sound by which I could determine +in which room of the many I knew to be on this floor the little one lay, +on whose behalf I was incurring a possible bullet from the pistol I once +saw lurking amongst bottles and corks in one of the innumerable drawers +of the doctor's table. But all was still around and overhead; too still +for my peace of mind, in which dreadful visions began to rise of a +drugged or dying child, panting out its innocent breath in darkness and +solitude. Yet no. With those thousands to be had for the asking, any man +would be a fool to injure or even seriously to frighten a child upon +whose good condition they depended; much less a miser whose whole heart +was fixed on money. + +The clock struck as I put foot on the landing; so much can happen in +twenty minutes when events crowd and the passions of men reach their +boiling-point! I expected to see the old man try that door, even to +double bolt it as in the years gone by. But he merely threw a look that +way and proceeded on down the three or four steps which led into the +species of basement where he had chosen to fix his office. In another +moment that dim and dismal room broke upon my view under the vague light +of the small and poorly-trimmed lamp he carried. I saw again its musty +walls covered with books, where there were shelves laden with bottles +and a loose array of miscellaneous objects I had often handled but out +of which I never could make any meaning. I recognized it all and +detected but few changes. But these were startling ones. The old lounge +standing under the two barred windows which I had often likened in my +own mind to those of a jail, had been recovered; and lying on the table, +which I had always regarded with a mixture of awe and apprehension, I +perceived something which I had never seen there before: a Bible, with +its edges worn and its leaves rumpled as if often and eagerly handled. + +I was so struck by this last discovery that I stopped, staring, in the +doorway, looking from the sacred volume to his worn but vigorous figure +drawn up in the middle of the room, with the lamp still in his hand and +his small but brilliant eyes fixed upon mine with a certain ironical +glitter in them, which gave me my first distrust of the part I had come +there to play. + +"We will waste no words," said he, setting down the lamp, and seizing +with his disengaged hand the long locks of his flowing beard. "In what +respect are you a messenger from Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and what makes you +think I have her child in this house?" + +I found it easier to answer the last question first. + +"I know the child is here," I replied, "because my partner saw you bring +her in. I have gone into the detective business since leaving you." + +"Ah!" + +There was an astonishing edge to his smile and I felt that I should have +to make the most of that old discovery of mine, if I were to hold my own +with this man. + +"And may I ask," he coldly continued, "how you have succeeded in +connecting me with this young child's disappearance?" + +"It's straight as a string," I retorted. "You threatened the child to +its face in the hearing of its nurse some two weeks ago, on a certain +bridge where you stopped them. You even set the day when the little +Gwendolen should pass from luxury to poverty." Here I cast an +involuntary glance about the room where the only sign of comfort was the +newly upholstered lounge. "That day was the sixteenth, and we all know +what happened on that date. If this is not plain enough--" I had seen +his lip curl--"allow me to add, by way of explanation, that you have +seen fit to threaten Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself with this date, for I know +well the hand which wrote _August 16_ on the bungalow floor and in +various other places about Homewood where her eye was likely to fall." +And I let my own fall on a sort of manuscript lying open not far from +the Bible, which still looked so out of place to me on this +pagan-hearted old miser's table. "Such chirography as yours is not to be +mistaken," I completed, with a short gesture toward the disordered +sheets he had left spread out to every eye. + +"I see. A detective without doubt. Did you play the detective here?" + +The last question leaped like a shot from his lips. + +"You have not denied the threats to which I have just called your +attention," was my cautious reply. + +"What need of that?" he retorted. "Are you not a--_detective_?" + +There was sarcasm, as well as taunt in the way he uttered that last +word. I was conscious of being at a loss, but put a bold front on the +matter and proceeded as if conscious of no secret misgiving. + +"Can you deny as well that you have been gone two days from this place? +That during this time a doctor's buggy, drawn by a horse I should know +by description, having harnessed him three times a day for two years, +was seen by more than one observer in the wake of a mysterious wagon +from the interior of which a child's crying could be heard? The wagon +did not drive up to this house to-night, but the buggy did, and from it +you carried a child which you brought with you into this house." + +With a sudden down-bringing of his old but powerful hand on the top of +the table before him, he seemed about to utter an oath or some angry +invective. But again he controlled himself, and eying me without any +show of shame or even of desire to contradict any of my assertions, he +quietly declared: + +"You are after that reward, I observe. Well, you won't get it. Like many +others of your class you can follow a trail, but the insight to start +right and to end in triumphant success is given only to a genius, and +you are not a genius." + +With a blush I could not control, I advanced upon him, crying: + +"You have forestalled me. You have telegraphed or telephoned to Mr. +Atwater--" + +"I have not left my house since I came in here three hours ago." + +"Then--" I began. + +But he hushed me with a look. + +"It is not a matter of money," he declared almost with dignity. "Those +who think to reap dollars from the distress which has come upon the +Ocumpaugh family will eat ashes for their pains. Money will be spent, +but none of it earned, unless you, or such as you, are hired at so much +an hour to--follow trails." + +Greatly astounded not only by the attitude he took, but by the calm and +almost indifferent way in which he mentioned what I had every reason to +believe to be the one burning object of his existence, I surveyed him +with undisguised astonishment till another thought, growing out of the +silence of the many-roomed house above us, gripped me with secret dread; +and I exclaimed aloud and without any attempt at subterfuge: + +"She is dead, then! the child is dead!" + +"I do not know," was his reply. + +The four words were uttered with undeniable gloom. + +"You do not know?" I echoed, conscious that my jaw had fallen, and that +I was staring at him with fright in my eyes. + +"No. I wish I did. I would give half of my small savings to know where +that innocent baby is to-night. Sit down!" he vehemently commanded. "You +do not understand me, I see. You confound the old Doctor Pool with the +new." + +"I confound nothing," I violently retorted in strong revulsion against +what I had now come to look upon as the attempt of a subtile actor to +turn aside my suspicions and brave out a dangerous situation by a +ridiculous subterfuge. "I understand the miser whom I have beheld +gloating over his hoard in the room above, and I understand the doctor +who for money could lend himself to a fraud, the secret results of which +are agitating the whole country at this moment." + +"So!" The word came with difficulty. "So you _did_ play the detective, +even as a boy. Pity I had not recognized your talents at the time. But +no--" he contradicted himself with great rapidity; "I was not a redeemed +soul then; I might have done you harm. I might have had more if not +worse sins to atone for than I have now." And with scant appearance of +having noted the doubtful manner in which I had received this +astonishing outburst, he proceeded to cry aloud and with a commanding +gesture: "Quit this. You have undertaken more than you can handle. You, +a messenger from Mrs. Ocumpaugh? Never. You are but the messenger of +your own cupidity; and cupidity leads by the straightest of roads +directly down to hell." + +"This you proved six long years ago. Lead me to the child I believe to +be in this house or I will proclaim aloud the pact you entered into +then--a pact to which I was an involuntary witness whose word, however, +will not go for less on that account. Behind the curtain still hanging +over that old closet I stood while--" + +His hand had seized my arm with a grip few could have proceeded under. + +"Do you mean--" + +The rest was whispered in my ear. + +[Illustration: "DO YOU MEAN"--THE REST WAS WHISPERED IN MY EAR.] + +I nodded and felt that he was mine now. But the laugh which the next +minute broke from his lips dashed my assurance. + +"Oh, the ways of the world!" he cried. Then in a different tone and not +without reverence: "Oh, the ways of God!" + +I made no reply. For every reason I felt that the next word must come +from him. + +It was an unexpected one. + +"That was Doctor Pool unregenerate and more heedful of the things of +this world than of those of the world to come. You have to deal with +quite a different man now. It is of that very sin I am now repenting in +sackcloth and ashes. I live but to expiate it. Something has been done +toward accomplishing this, but not enough. I have been played upon, +used. This I will avenge. New sin is a poor apology for an old one." + +I scarcely heeded him. I was again straining my ears to catch a +smothered sob or a frightened moan. + +"What are you listening for?" he asked. + +"For the sound of little Gwendolen's voice. It is worth fifty thousand +dollars, you remember. Why shouldn't I listen for it? Besides, I have a +real and uncontrollable sympathy for the child. I am determined to +restore her to her home. Your blasphemous babble of a changed heart does +not affect me. You are after a larger haul than the sum offered by Mr. +Ocumpaugh. You want some of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's fortune. I have suspected +it from the first." + +"I want? Little you know what I want"--then quickly, convincingly: "You +are strangely deceived. Little Miss Ocumpaugh is not here." + +"What is that I hear, then?" was the quick retort with which I hailed +the sigh, unmistakably from infantile lips, which now rose from some +place very much nearer us than the hollow regions overhead toward which +my ears had been so long turned. + +"That!" He flashed with uncontrollable passion, and if I am not mistaken +clenched his hands so violently as to bury his nails in his flesh. +"Would you like to see what that is? Come!"--and taking up the lamp, he +moved, much to my surprise as well as to my intense interest, toward the +door of the small cupboard where I had myself slept when in his service. + +That he still meditated some deviltry which would call for my full +presence of mind to combat successfully, I did not in the least doubt. +Yet the agitation under which I crossed the floor was more the result of +an immediate anticipation of seeing--and in this place of all others in +the world--the child about whom my thoughts had clung so persistently +for forty-two hours, than of any results to myself in the way of injury +or misfortune. Though the room was small and my passage across it +necessarily short, I had time to remember Mrs. Ocumpaugh's pitiful +countenance as I saw it gazing in agony of expectation from her window +overlooking the river, and to catch again the sounds, less true and yet +strangely thrilling, of Mrs. Carew's voice as she said: "A tragedy at my +doors and I occupied with my own affairs!" Nor was this all. A +recollection of Miss Graham's sorrow came up before my eyes also, and, +truest of all, most penetrating to me of all the loves which seemed to +encompass this rare and winsome infant, the infinite tenderness with +which I once saw Mr. Ocumpaugh lift her to his breast, during one of my +interviews with him at Homewood. + +All this before the door had swung open. Afterward, I saw nothing and +thought of nothing but the small figure lying in the spot where I had +once pillowed my own head, and with no more luxuries or even comforts +about her than had been my lot under this broad but by no means +hospitable roof. + +A bare wall, a narrow cot, a table with a bottle and glass on it and the +child in the bed--that was all. But God knows, it was enough to me at +that breathless moment; and advancing eagerly, I was about to stoop over +the little head sunk deep in its pillow, when the old man stepped +between and with a short laugh remarked: + +"There's no such hurry. I have something to say first, in explanation of +the anger you have seen me display; an anger which is unseemly in a man +professing to have conquered the sins and passions of lost humanity. I +did follow this child. You were right in saying that it was my horse +and buggy which were seen in the wake of the wagon which came from the +region of Homewood and lost itself in the crossroads running between the +North River and the Sound. For two days and a night I followed it, +through more difficulties than I could relate in an hour, stopping in +lonely woods, or at wretched taverns, watching, waiting for the transfer +of the child, whose destination I was bound to know even if it cost me a +week of miserable travel without comfortable food or decent lodging. I +could hear the child cry out from time to time--an assurance that I was +not following a will-o'-the-wisp--but not till to-day, not till very +late to-day, did any words pass between me and the man and woman who +drove the wagon. At Fordham, just as I suspected them of making final +efforts to escape me, they came to a halt and I saw the man get out. + +"I immediately got out too. As we faced each other, I demanded what the +matter was. He appeared reckless. 'Are you a doctor?' he asked. I +assured him that I was. At which he blurted out: 'I don't know why +you've been following us so long, and I don't care. I've got a job for +you. A child in our wagon is ill.'" + +With a start I attempted to look over the old man's shoulder toward the +bed. But the deep, if irregular, breathing of the child reassured me, +and I turned to hear the doctor out. + +"This gave me my chance. 'Let me see her,' I cried. The man's eye +lowered. I did not like his face at all. 'If it's anything serious,' he +growled, 'I shall cut. It isn't my flesh and blood nor yet my old +woman's there. You'll have to find some place for the brat besides my +wagon if it's anything that won't get cured without nu'ssin'. So come +along and have a look.' I followed him, perfectly determined to take the +child under my own care, sick or well. 'Where were you going to take +her?' I asked. I didn't ask who she was; why should I? 'I don't know as +I am obliged to tell,' was his surly reply. 'Where we are going +oursel's,' he reluctantly added. 'But not to nu'ss. I've no time for +nu'ssin' brats, nor my wife neither. We have a journey to make. +Sarah!'--this to his wife, for by this time we were beside the wagon, +'lift up the flap and hold the youngster's hand out. Here's a doctor who +will tell us if it's fever or not.' A puny hand and wrist were thrust +out. I felt the pulse and then held out my arms. 'Give me the child,' I +commanded. 'She's sick enough for a hospital.' A grunt from the woman +within, an oath from the man, and a bundle was presently put in my arms, +from which a little moan escaped as I strode with it toward my buggy. 'I +do not ask your name,' I called back to the man who reluctantly followed +me. 'Mine is Doctor Pool and I live in Yonkers.' He muttered something +about not peachin' on a poor man who was really doin' an unfortunate a +kindness, and then slunk hurriedly back and was gone, wagon, wife and +all, by the time I had whipped up my tired old nag and turned about +toward Yonkers. But I had the child safe and sound in my arms, and my +fears of its fate were relieved. It was not well, but I anticipated +nothing serious. When it moaned I pressed it a little closer to my +breast and that was all. In three-quarters of an hour we were in +Yonkers. In fifteen minutes I had it on this bed, and had begun to +unroll the shawl in which it was closely wrapped. Did you ever see the +child about whom there has been all this coil?" + +"Yes, about three years ago." + +"Three years! I have seen her within a fortnight; yet I could carry +that young one in my arms for a whole hour without the least suspicion +that I was making a fool of myself." + +Quickly slipping aside, he allowed me to approach the bed and take my +first look at the sleeping child's face. It was a sweet one but I did +not need the hint he had given me to find the features strange, and +lacking every characteristic of those of Gwendolen Ocumpaugh. Yet as the +cutting off of the hair will often change the whole aspect of the +face--and this child's hair was short--I was stooping in great +excitement to notice more particularly the contour of cheek and chin +which had given individuality to the little heiress, when the doctor +touched me on the arm and drew my attention to a pair of little trousers +and a shirt which were hanging on the door behind me. + +"Those are the clothes I came upon under that great shawl. The child I +have been following and whom I have brought into my house under the +impression it was Gwendolen Ocumpaugh is not even a girl." + + + + +VII + +"FIND THE CHILD!" + + +I could well understand the wrath to which this man had given way, by +the feeling which now took hold of my own breast. + +"A boy!" I exclaimed. + +"A boy." + +Still incredulous, I leaned over the child and lifted into the full +light of the lamp one of the little hands I saw lying outside of the +coverlet. There was no mistaking it for a girl's hand, let alone a +little lady's. + +"So we are both fools!" I vociferated in my unbounded indignation, +careful however to lay the small hand gently back on the panting breast. +And turning away both from the doctor and his small patient, I strolled +back into the office. + +The bubble whose gay colors I had followed with such avidity had burst +in my face with a vengeance. + +But once from under the influence of the doctor's sarcastic eye, my +better nature reasserted itself. Wheeling about, I threw this question +back: + +"If that is a boy and a stranger, where is Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +A moan from the bed and a hurried movement on the part of the doctor, +who took this opportunity to give the child another dose of medicine, +were my sole response. Waiting till the doctor had finished his task and +drawn back from the bedside, I repeated the question and with increased +emphasis: + +"Where, then, is Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +Still the doctor did not answer, though he turned my way and even +stepped forward; his long visage, cadaverous from fatigue and the shock +of his disappointment, growing more and more somber as he advanced. + +When he came to a stand by the table, I asked again: + +"Where is the child idolized by Mr. Ocumpaugh and mourned to such a +degree by his almost maddened wife that they say she will die if the +little girl is not found?" + +The threat in my tones brought a response at last--a response which +astonished me. + +"Have I not said that I do not know? Do you not believe me? Do you think +me as blind to-day to truth and honor as I was six years ago? Have you +no idea of repentance and regeneration from sin? You are a detective. +Find me that child. You shall have money--hundreds--thousands--if you +can bring me proofs of her being yet alive. If the Hudson has swallowed +her--" here his figure rose, dilated and took on a majesty which +impressed itself upon me through all my doubts--"I will have vengeance +on whoever has thus dared the laws of God and man as I would on the +foulest murderer in the foulest slums of that city which breeds +wickedness in high places as in low. I lock hands no longer with Belial. +Find me the child, or make me at least to know the truth!" + +There was no doubting the passion which drove these words hot from his +lips. I recognized at last the fanatic whom Miss Graham had so +graphically described in relating her extraordinary adventure on the +bridge; and met him with this one question, which was certainly a vital +one: + +"Who dropped a shoe from the little one's closet, into the water under +the dock? Did you?" + +"No." His reply came quick and sharp. + +"But," I insisted, "you have had something to do with this child's +disappearance." + +He did not answer. A sullen look was displacing the fire of resolve in +the eyes I saw sinking slowly before mine. + +"I will not acknowledge it," he muttered; adding, however, in what was +little short of a growl: "Not yet, not till it becomes my duty to avenge +innocent blood." + +"You foretold the date." + +"Drop it." + +"You were in league with the abductor," I persisted. "I declare to your +face, in spite of all the vaunted scruples with which you seek to blind +me to your guilt, that you were in league with the abductor, knowing +what money Mrs. Ocumpaugh would pay. Only he was too smart for you, and +perhaps too unscrupulous. You would stop short of murder, now that you +have got religion. But his conscience is not so nice and so you fear--" + +"You do not know what I fear and I am not going to tell you. It is +enough that I am conscious of my own uprightness and that I say, Find +the child! You have incentive enough." + +It was true and it was growing stronger every minute. + +"Confine yourself to such clues as are apparent to every eye," he now +admonished me with an eagerness that seemed real. "If they are pointed +by some special knowledge you believe yourself to have gained, that is +all the better--perhaps. I do not propose to say." + +I saw that he had uttered his ultimatum. + +"Very good," said I. "I have, nevertheless, one more question to ask +which relates to those very clues. You can not refuse to answer it if +you are really desirous of aiding me in my efforts. Where did you first +come upon the wagon which you followed so many hours in the belief that +it held Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +He mused a moment with downcast head, his nervous frame trembling with +the force with which he threw his whole weight on the hand he held +outspread on the table before him. Then he calmly replied: + +"I will tell you that. At the gate of Mrs. Carew's grounds. You know +them? They adjoin the Ocumpaughs' on the left." + +My surprise made me lower my head but not so quickly that I did not +catch the oblique glint of his eye as he mentioned the name which I was +so little prepared to hear in this connection. + +"I was in my buggy on the highroad," he continued. "There was a constant +passing by of all kinds of vehicles on their way to and from the +Ocumpaugh entertainment, but none that attracted my attention till I +caught sight of the covered wagon I have endeavored to describe, being +driven out of the adjoining grounds. Then I pricked up my ears, for a +child was crying inside in the smothered way that tells of a hand laid +heavily over the mouth. I thought I knew what child this was, but you +have been a witness to my disappointment after forty-eight hours of +travel behind that wretched wagon." + +"It came out of Mrs. Carew's grounds?" I repeated, ignoring everything +but the one important fact. "And during the time, you say, when Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's guests were assembling? Did you see any other vehicle leave +by the same gate at or before that time?" + +"Yes, a carriage. It appeared to have no one in it. Indeed, I know that +it was empty, for I peered into it as it rolled by me down the street. +Of course I do not know what might have been under the seats." + +"Nothing," was my sharp retort. "That was the carriage in which Mrs. +Carew had come up from the train. Did it pass out before the wagon?" + +"Yes, by some minutes." + +"There is nothing, then, to be gained by that." + +"There does not seem to be." + +Was his accent in uttering this simple phrase peculiar? I looked up to +make sure. But his face, which had been eloquent with one feeling or +another during every minute of this long interview till the present +instant, looked strangely impassive, and I did not know how to press the +question hovering on my lips. + +"You have given me a heavy task," I finally remarked, "and you offer +very little assistance in the way of conjecture. Yet you must have +formed some." + +He toyed with his beard, combing it with his nervous, muscular fingers, +and as I watched how he lingered over the tips, caressing them before he +dropped them, I felt that he was toying with my perplexities in much the +same fashion and with an equal satisfaction. Angry and out of all +patience with him, I blurted out: + +"I will do without your aid. I will solve this mystery and earn your +money if not that of Mr. Ocumpaugh, with no assistance save that +afforded by my own wits." + +"I expect you will," he retorted; and for the first time since I burst +in upon him like one dropping from the clouds through the unapproachable +doorway on the upper floor, he lost that look of extreme tension which +had nerved his aged figure into something of the aspect of youth. With +it vanished his impressiveness. It was simply a tired old man I now +followed upstairs to the side door. As I paused to give him a final nod +and an assurance of intended good faith toward him, he made a kindly +enough gesture in the direction of my old room below and said: + +"Don't worry about the little fellow down there. He'll come out all +right. I shan't visit on him the extravagance of my own folly. I am a +Christian now." And with this encouraging remark he closed the door and +I found myself alone in the dark alley. + +My first sense of relief came from the coolness of the night air on my +flushed forehead and cheeks. After the stifling atmosphere of this +underground room, reeking with the fumes of the lamp and the heat of a +struggle which his dogged confidence in himself had made so unequal, it +was pleasurable just to sense the quiet and the cool of the night and +feel myself released from the bondage of a presence from which I had +frequently recoiled but had never thoroughly felt the force of till +to-night; my next, from the touch and voice of my partner who at that +moment rose from before the basement windows where he had evidently been +lying for a long time outstretched. + +"What have you two been doing down there?" was his very natural +complaint. "I tried to listen, I tried to see; but beyond a few +scattered words when your voices rose to an excited pitch, I have +learned nothing but that you were in no danger save from the overthrow +of your scheme. That has failed, has it not? You would have interrupted +me long ago if you had found the child." + +"Yes," I acknowledged; drawing him down the alley, "I have failed for +to-night, but I start afresh to-morrow. Though how I can rest idle for +nine hours, not knowing under what roof, if under any, that doomed +innocent may be lying, I do not know." + +"You must rest; you are staggering with fatigue now." + +"Not a bit of it, only with uncertainty. I don't see my way. Let us go +down street and see if any news has come over the wires since I left +Homewood." + +"But first, what a spooky old house that is! And what did the old +gentleman have to say of your tumbling in on him from space without a +'By your leave' or even an 'Excuse me'? Tell me about it." + +I told him enough to allay his curiosity. That was all I thought +necessary,--and he seemed satisfied. Jupp is a good fellow, quite +willing to confine himself to his particular end of the business which +does not include the thinking end. Why should it? + +There was no news--this we soon learned--only some hints of a +contemplated move on the part of the police in a district where some low +characters had been seen dragging along a resisting child of an +unexpectedly refined appearance. As no one could describe this child +and as I had refused from the first to look upon this case as one of +ordinary abduction, I laid little stress on the report, destined though +it was to appear under startling head-lines on the morrow, and startled +my more credulous partner quite out of his usual equanimity, by ordering +him on our arrival at the station to buy me a ticket for ----, as I was +going back to Homewood. + +"To Homewood, so late!" + +"Exactly. It will not be late there--or if it is, anxious hearts make +light sleepers." + +His shoulders rose a trifle, but he bought the ticket. + + + + +VIII + +"PHILO! PHILO! PHILO!" + + +Never have I felt a weirder sensation than when I stepped from the cars +on to the solitary platform from which a few hours before I had seen the +little nursery-governess depart for New York. The train, soon to +disappear in the darkness of the long perspective, was all that gave +life and light to the scene, and when it was gone, nothing remained to +relieve the gloom or to break the universal stillness save the quiet lap +of the water and the moaning of the wind through the trees which climbed +the heights to Homewood. + +I had determined to enter if possible by way of the private path, though +I expected to find it guarded against just such intrusion. In +approaching it I was given a full view of the river and thus was in a +position to note that the dock and adjoining banks were no longer bright +with lanterns in the hands of eager men bending with fixed eyes over the +flowing waters. The search which had kept so many busy at this spot for +well on to two days had been abandoned; and the darkness seemed doubly +dark and the silence doubly oppressive in contrast. + +Yet hope spoke in the abandonment; and with renewed spirit and a more +than lively courage, I turned toward the little gate through which I had +passed twice before that day. As I expected, a silent figure rose up +from the shadows to prevent me; but it fell back at the mention of my +name and business, thus proving the man to be in the confidence of Mrs. +Ocumpaugh or, at the least, in that of Miss Porter. + +"I am come for a social chat with the coachman," I explained. "Lights +burn late in such extensive stables. Don't worry about me. The people at +the house are in sympathy with my investigation." + +Thus we stretch the truth at great crises. + +"I know you," was the answer. "But keep away from the house. Our orders +are imperative to allow no one to approach it again to-night, except +with the child in hand or with such news as would gain instant +admission." + +"Trust me," said I, as I went up the steps. + +It was so dark between the hedge-rows that my ascent became mere +groping. I had a lantern in my pocket which I had taken from Jupp, but I +did not choose to make use of it. I preferred to go on and up, trusting +to my instinct to tell me when I had reached a fresh flight of steps. + +A gleam of light from Mrs. Carew's upper windows was the first +intimation I received that I was at the top of the bank, and in another +moment I was opposite the gap in the hedge opening upon her grounds. + +For no particular reason that I know of, I here paused and took a long +survey of what was, after all, nothing but a cluster of shadows broken +here and there by squares of subdued light. I felt a vague desire to +enter--to see and talk again with the charming woman whose personality +had made such an impression upon me, if only to understand the peculiar +feelings which those indistinguishable walls awakened, and why such a +sense of anticipation should disturb my admiration of this woman and the +delight which I had experienced in every accent of her trained and +exquisite voice. + +I was standing very still and in almost total darkness. The shock, +therefore, was great when, in finally making up my mind to move, I +became conscious of a presence near me, totally indiscernible and as +silent as myself. + +Whose? + +No watchman, or he would have spoken at the rustle I made stumbling back +against the hedge-row. Some marauder, then, or a detective, like myself? +I would not waste time in speculating; better to decide the question at +once, for the situation was eery, the person, whoever he was, stood so +near and so still, and so directly in the way of my advance. + +Drawing the lantern from my pocket, I pushed open the slide and flashed +the light on the immovable figure before me. The face I beheld staring +into mine was one quite unknown to me, but as I took in its expression, +my arm gradually fell, and with it the light from the man's features, +till face and form were lost again in the darkness, leaving in my +disturbed mind naught but an impression; but such an impression! + +The countenance thus flashed upon my vision must have been a haunting +one at any time, but seen as I saw it, at a moment of extreme +self-abandonment, the effect was startling. Yet I had sufficient +control over myself to utter a word or two of apology, which was not +answered, if it was even heard. + +A more exact description may be advisable. The person whom I thus +encountered hesitating before Mrs. Carew's house was a man of meager +build, sloping shoulders and handsome but painfully pinched features. +That he was a gentleman of culture and the nicest refinement was evident +at first glance; that this culture and refinement were at this moment +under the dominion of some fierce thought or resolve was equally +apparent, giving to his look an absorption which the shock attending the +glare I had thus suddenly thrown on his face could not immediately +dispel. + +Dazed by an encounter for which he seemed even less prepared than +myself, he stood with his heart in his face, if I may so speak, and only +gradually came to himself as the sense of my proximity forced itself in +upon his suffering and engrossed mind. When I saw that he had quite +emerged from his dream, I dropped the light. But I did not forget his +look; I did not forget the man, though I hastened to leave him, in my +desire to fulfill the purpose for which I had entered these grounds at +so late an hour. + +My plan was, as I have said, to visit the Ocumpaugh stables and have a +chat with the coachman. I had no doubt of my welcome and not much doubt +of myself. Yet as I left the vicinity of Mrs. Carew's cottage and came +upon the great house of the Ocumpaughs looming in the moonlight above +its marble terraces, I felt impressed as never before both by the beauty +and magnificence of the noble pile, and shrank with something like shame +from the presumption which had led me to pit my wits against a mystery +having its birth in so much grandeur and material power. The prestige of +great wealth as embodied in this superb structure well-nigh awed me from +my task and I was passing the twin pergolas and flower-bordered walks +with hesitating foot, when I heard through one of the open windows a cry +which made me forget everything but our common heritage of sorrow and +the equal hold it has on high and low. + +"Philo!" the voice rang out in a misery to wring the heart of the most +callous. "Philo! Philo!" + +Mr. Ocumpaugh's name called aloud by his suffering wife. Was she in +delirium? It would seem so; but why Philo! always Philo! and not once +Gwendolen? + +With hushed steps, ears ringing and heart palpitating with new and +indefinable sensations, I turned into the road to the stables. + +There were men about and I caught one glimpse of a maid's pretty head +looking from one of the rear windows, but no one stopped me, and I +reached the stable just as a man came sauntering out to take his final +look at the weather. + +It was the fellow I sought, Thomas the coachman. + +I had not miscalculated the nature of my man. In ten minutes we were +seated together on an open balcony, smoking and beguiling the time with +a little harmless gossip. After a free and easy discussion of the great +event, mingled with the naturally-to-be-expected criticism of the +police, we proceeded under my guidance to those particulars for which I +had risked losing this very valuable hour. + +He mentioned Mrs. Ocumpaugh; I mentioned Mrs. Carew. + +"A beautiful woman," I remarked. + +I thought he looked astonished. "_She_ beautiful?" was his doubtful +rejoinder. "What do you think of Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +"She is handsome, too, but in a different way." + +"I should think so. I've driven rich and I've driven poor. I've even sat +on the box in front of an English duchess, but never have I seen such +features as Mrs. Ocumpaugh's. That's why I consent to drive an American +millionaire's wife when I might be driving the English nobility." + +"A statue!" said I; "cold!" + +"True enough, but one you never tire of looking at. Besides, she can +light up wonderfully. I've seen her when she was all a-quiver, and +lovely as the loveliest. And when do you think that was?" + +"When she had her child in her arms." + +I spoke in lowered tones as befitted the suggestion and the +circumstances. + +"No," he drawled, between thoughtful puffs of smoke; "when Mr. Ocumpaugh +sat on the seat beside her. This, when I was driving the victoria. I +often used to make excuse for turning my head about so as to catch a +glimpse of her smile at some fine view and the way she looked up at him +to see if he was enjoying it as much as she. I like women who love their +husbands." + +"And he?" + +"Oh, she has nothing to complain of in him. He worships the ground she +walks on; and he more than worshiped the child." + +Here _his_ voice fell. + +I brought the conversation back as quickly as I could to Mrs. Carew. + +"You like pale women," said I. "Now I like a woman who looks plain one +minute, and perfectly charming the next." + +"That's what people say of Mrs. Carew. I know of lots who admire that +kind. The little girl for one." + +"Gwendolen? Was she attracted to Mrs. Carew?" + +"Attracted? I've seen her go to her from her mother's lap like a bird to +its nest. Many a time have I driven the carriage with Mrs. Ocumpaugh +sitting up straight inside, and her child curled up in this other +woman's arms with not a look or word for her mother." + +"How did Mrs. Ocumpaugh seem to like that?" I asked between puffs of my +cigar. + +"Oh, she's one of the cold ones, you know! At least you say so; but I +feel sure that for the last three years--that is, ever since this woman +came into the neighborhood--her heart has been slowly breaking. This +last blow will kill her." + +I thought of the moaning cry of "Philo! Philo!" which at intervals I +still seemed to hear issue from that upper window in the great house, +and felt that there might be truth in his fears. + +But it was of Mrs. Carew I had come to talk and not of Mrs. Ocumpaugh. + +"Children's fancies are unaccountable," I sententiously remarked; "but +perhaps there is some excuse for this one. Mrs. Carew has what you call +magnetism--a personality which I should imagine would be very appealing +to a child. I never saw such expression in a human face. Whatever her +mood, she impresses each passing feeling upon you as the one reality of +her life. I can not understand such changes, but they are very +fascinating." + +"Oh, they are easy enough to understand in her case. She was an actress +once. I myself have seen her on the stage--in London. I used to admire +her there." + +"An actress!" I repeated, somewhat taken aback. + +"Yes, I forget what name she played under. But she's a very great lady +now; in with all the swells and rich enough to own a yacht if she wanted +to." + +"But a widow." + +"Oh, yes, a widow." + +I let a moment of silence pass, then nonchalantly remarked: + +"Why is she going to Europe?" + +But this was too much for my simple-hearted friend. He neither knew nor +had any conjecture ready. But I saw that he did not deplore her resolve. +His reason for this presently appeared. + +"If the little one is found, the mother will want all her caresses. Let +Mrs. Carew hug the boy that God in his mercy has thrown into her arms +and leave other children to their mothers." + +I rose to leave, when I bethought me and stopped to ask another +question. + +"Who is the gentleman I have seen about here--a man with a handsome +face, but very pale and thin in his appearance, so much so that it is +quite noticeable?" + +"Do you mean Mr. Rathbone?" + +"I do not know his name. A light complexioned man, who looks as if +greatly afflicted by some disease or secret depression." + +"Oh, that is Mr. Rathbone, sure. He is sickly-looking enough and not +without his trouble, too. They say--but it's all gossip, of course--that +he has set his heart on the widow." + +"Mrs. Carew?" + +"Of course, who else?" + +"And she?" + +"Why, she would be a fool to care for him, unless--" + +"Unless what?" + +Thomas laughed--a little uneasily, I could not help thinking. + +"I'm afraid we're talking scandal," said he. "You know the +relationship?" + +"What relationship?" + +"Why, his relationship to the family. He is Gwendolen's cousin and I +have heard it said that he's named after her in Madam Ocumpaugh's +will." + +"O, I see! The next heir, eh?" + +"Yes, to the Rathbone property." + +"So that if she is not found--" + +"Your sickly man, in that case, would be well worth the marrying." + +"Is Mrs. Carew so fond of money as all that? I thought she was a woman +of property." + +"She is; but it takes money to make some men interesting. He isn't +handsome enough, or independent enough to go entirely on his own merits. +Besides, he has a troop of relatives hanging on to him--blood-suckers +who more than eat up his salary." + +"A business man, then?" + +"Yes, in some New York house. He was always very fond of Gwendolen, and +I am not surprised to hear that he is very much cut up by our trouble. I +always thought well of Mr. Rathbone myself,"--which same ended the +conversation so far as my interest in it was concerned. + + + + +IX + +THE BUNGALOW + + +As soon as I could break away and leave him I did, and betook myself to +Mrs. Carew's house. My resolve was taken. Late as it was, I would +attempt an interview with her. The lights still burning above and below +gave me the necessary courage. Yet I was conscious of some embarrassment +in presenting my name to the astonished maid, who was in the act of +extinguishing the hall-light when my vigorous ring prevented her. Seeing +her doubtful look and the hesitation with which she held the door, I +told her that I would wait outside on the porch till she had carried up +my name to Mrs. Carew. This seemed to relieve her and in a moment I was +standing again under the vines waiting for permission to enter the +house. It came very soon, and I had to conquer a fresh embarrassment at +the sight of Mrs. Carew's nimble and gracious figure descending the +stairs in all eagerness to greet me. + +"What is it?" she asked, running hastily forward so that we met in the +center of the hall. "Good news? Nothing else could have brought you back +again so soon--and at an hour so late." + +There was a dangerous naïveté in the way she uttered the last three +words which made me suspect the actress. Indeed I was quite conscious as +I met her thrilling and expressive glance, that I should never feel +again the same confidence in her sincerity. My judgment had been +confounded and my insight rendered helpless by what I had heard of her +art, and the fact that she had once been a capable player of "parts." + +But I was man enough and detective enough not to betray my suspicion, +now that I was brought face to face with her. It had always been latent +in my breast, even in the very midst of my greatest admiration for her. +Yet I had never acknowledged to myself of what I suspected her, nor did +I now--not quite--not enough to give that point to my attack which would +have insured me immediate victory or defeat. I was obliged to feel my +way and so answered, with every appearance of friendly confidence: + +"I fear then that I shall be obliged to ask your pardon. I have no good +news; rather what might be called, if not bad, of a very perplexing +character. The child has been traced"--here I purposely let my voice +halt for an instant--"here." + +"Here?" her eyes opened, her lips parted in a look of surprise so +ingenuous that involuntarily I felt forced to add, by way of +explanation: + +"The child, I mean, who was carried screaming along the highway in a +wagon and for whom the police--and others--have for two days been +looking." + +"Oh!" she ejaculated with a slight turn of her head aside as she +motioned me toward a chair. "And is that child Gwendolen? Or don't you +know?" She was all eagerness as she again faced me. + +"That will be known to-morrow," I rejoined, resisting the beautiful +brightness of her face with an effort that must have left its mark on my +own features; for she smiled with unconscious triumph as she held my +eyes for a minute in hers saying softly, "O how you excite me! Tell me +more. Where was the wagon found? Who is with it? And how much of all +this have you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +With the last question she had risen, involuntarily, it seemed, and as +though she would rush to her friend if I did not at once reassure her of +that friend's knowledge of a fact which seemed to throw a gleam of hope +upon a situation hitherto entirely unrelieved. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh has been told nothing," I hastily returned, answering +the last and most important question first. "Nor must she be; at least +not till certainty replaces doubt. She is in a critical state, I am +told. To rouse her hopes to-night only to dash them again to-morrow +would be cruel policy." + +With her eyes still on my face, Mrs. Carew slowly reseated herself. +"Then there are doubts," she faltered; "doubts of its being Gwendolen?" + +"There is always doubt," I replied, and openly paused in manifest +non-committal. + +"Oh!" she somewhat wildly exclaimed, covering her face with her +hands--beautiful hands covered with jewels--"what suspense! what bitter +and cruel suspense! I feel it almost as much as if it were my Harry!" +was the final cry with which she dropped them again. And she did feel +it. Her features had blanched and her form was shaking. "But you have +not answered my questions as to where this wagon is at present and under +whose care? Can't you see how anxious I must be about that--if it should +prove to be Gwendolen?" + +"Mrs. Carew, if I could tell you that, I could tell you more; we shall +both have to wait till to-morrow. Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask. Have +you by any chance the means of entrance to the bungalow? I have a great +and inappeasable desire to see for myself if all the nooks and corners +of that place have given up their secrets. It's an egotistical desire, +no doubt--and may strike you as folly of the rankest--but we detectives +have learned to trust nobody in our investigations, and I shall never be +satisfied till I have looked this whole spot over inch by inch for the +clue which may yet remain there. If there is a clue I must find it." + +"Clue?" She was looking at me a little breathlessly. "Clue to what? Then +she wasn't in the wagon; you are still seeking her--" + +"Always seeking her," I put in. + +"But surely not in the bungalow!" Mrs. Carew's expression was one of +extreme surprise. "What can you find there?" + +"I do not know. But I want to look. I can go to the house for a key, but +it is late; and it seems unpardonable to disturb Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Yet I +shall have to do this if you have not a key; for I shall not sleep till +I have satisfied myself that nothing can be discovered on the immediate +scene of Gwendolen's disappearance, to help forward the rescue we both +are so intent upon." + +"You are right," was the hesitating reply I received. "I have a key; I +will fetch it and if you do not mind, I will accompany you to the +bungalow." + +"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," I replied with my best bow; +white lies come easy in our trade. + +"I will not keep you a minute," she said, rising and going into the +hall. But in an instant she was back. "A word to my maid and a covering +for my head," she explained, "and I will be with you." Her manner +pointed unmistakably to the door. + +I had no alternative but to step out on the porch to await her. But she +was true to her word and in a moment she had joined me, with the key in +her hand. + +"Oh, what adventures!" was her breathless cry. "Shall I ever forget this +dreadful, this interminable week! But it is dark. Even the moon is +clouded over. How shall we see? There are no lights in the bungalow." + +"I have a lantern in my pocket. My only hope is that no stray gleam from +it may pierce the shrubbery and bring the police upon us." + +"Do you fear the police?" she chatted away, almost as a child might. + +"No; but I want to do my work alone. There will be little glory or +little money in it if they share any of my discoveries." + +"Ah!" It was an irrepressible exclamation, or so it seemed: but I should +not have noted it if I had not caught, or persuaded myself that I had +caught, the oblique glint from her eye which accompanied it. But it was +very dark just at this time and I could be sure of nothing but that she +kept close to my side and seemed more than once on the point of +addressing me in the short distance we traversed before reaching the +bungalow. But nothing save inarticulate murmurs left her lips and soon +we were too busy, in our endeavors to unlock the door, to think of +conversation. + +The key she had brought was rusty. Evidently she had not often made use +of it. But after a few futile efforts I succeeded in making it work, and +we stepped into the small building in a silence that was only less +profound than the darkness in which we instantly found ourselves +enveloped. Light was under my hand, however, and in another moment there +opened before us the small square room whose every feature had taken on +a ghostly and unfamiliar air from the strange hour and the unwonted +circumstances. I saw how her impressionable nature was affected by the +scene, and made haste to assume the offhand air I thought most likely to +overcome her apprehension. But the effect of the blank walls before her, +relieved, but in no reassuring way, by the long dark folds of the rugs +hanging straight down over the mysterious partition, held its own +against my well-meant efforts, and I was not surprised to hear her voice +falter as she asked what I expected to find there. + +I pointed to a chair and said: + +"If you will sit down, I will show you, not what I expect to find, but +how a detective goes about his work. Whatever our expectations, however +small or however great, we pay full attention to details. Now the detail +which has worried me in regard to this place is the existence of a +certain space in this building unaccounted for by these four walls; in +other words, the portion which lies behind these rugs,"--and throwing +aside the same, I let the flame from my lantern play over the walled-up +space which I had before examined with little satisfaction. "This +partition," I continued, "seems as firm as any of the walls, but I want +to make sure that it hides nothing. If the child should be in some hole +back of this partition, what a horror and what an outrage!" + +"But it is impossible!" came almost in a shriek from the woman behind +me. "The opening is completely walled up. I have never known of its +being otherwise. It looked like that when I came here three years ago. +There is no possible passage through that wall." + +"Why was it ever closed up? Do you know?" + +"Not exactly. The family are very reticent about it. Some fancy of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's father, I believe. He was an odd man; they tell all manner +of stories about him. If anything offended him, he rid himself of it +immediately. He took a distaste to that end of the hut, as they used to +call it in the old days before it was remodeled to suit the house, so he +had it walled up. That is all we know about it." + +"I wish I could see behind that wall," I muttered, dropping back the rug +I had all this time held in my hand. "I feel some mystery here which I +can not grasp." Then as I flashed my lantern about in every direction +with no visible result, added with the effort which accompanies such +disappointments: "There is nothing here, Mrs. Carew. Though it is the +scene of the child's disappearance it gives me nothing." + + + + +X + +TEMPTATION + + +The sharp rustle of her dress as she suddenly rose struck upon my ear. + +"Then let us go," she cried, with just a slight quiver of eagerness in +her wonderful voice. I comprehended its culture now. "The place is +ghostly at this hour of the night. I believe that I am really afraid." + +With a muttered reassurance, I allowed the full light of the lantern to +fall directly on her face. She _was_ afraid. There was no other +explanation possible for her wild staring eyes and blue quivering lips. +For the instant I hardly knew her; then her glance rose to mine and she +smiled and it was with difficulty I refrained from acknowledging in +words my appreciation of her wonderful flexibility of expression. + +"You are astonished to see me so affected," she said. "It is not so +strange as you think--it is superstition--the horror of what once +happened here--the reason for that partition--I know the whole story, +for all my attempts to deny it just now. The hour, too, is +unfortunate--the darkness--your shifting, mysterious light. It was late +like this--and dark--with just the moon to illumine the scene, when +she--Mr. Trevitt, do you want to know the story of this place?--the old, +much guessed-at, never-really-understood story which led first to its +complete abandonment, then to the building of that dividing wall and +finally to the restoration of this portion and of this alone? Do you?" + +Her eagerness, in such startling contrast to the reticence she had shown +on this very subject a few minutes before, affected me peculiarly. I +wanted to hear the story--any one would who had listened to the gossip +of this neighborhood for years, but-- + +She evidently did not mean to give me time to understand my own +hesitation. + +"I have the whole history--the touching, hardly-to-be-believed +history--up at my house at this very moment. It was written by--no, I +will let you guess." + +The naïveté of her smile made me forget the force of its late +expression. + +"Mr. Ocumpaugh?" I ventured. + +"Which Mr. Ocumpaugh? There have been so many." She began slowly, +naturally, to move toward the door. + +"I can not guess." + +"Then I shall have to tell you. It was written by the one who--Come! I +will tell you outside. I haven't any courage here." + +"But I have." + +"You haven't read the story." + +"Never mind; tell me who the writer was." + +"Mr. Ocumpaugh's father; he, by whose orders this partition was put up." + +"Oh, you have _his_ story--written--and by himself! You are fortunate, +Mrs. Carew." + +I had turned the lantern from her face, but not so far that I did not +detect the deep flush which dyed her whole countenance at these words. + +"I am," she emphatically returned, meeting my eyes with a steady look I +was not sufficiently expert with women's ways, or at all events with +this woman's ways, to understand. "Seldom has such a tale been +written--seldom, let us thank God, has there been an equal occasion for +it." + +"You interest me," I said. + +And she did. Little as this history might have to do with the finding of +Gwendolen, I felt an almost imperative necessity of satisfying my +curiosity in regard to it, though I knew she had deliberately roused +this curiosity for a purpose which, if not comprehensible to me, was of +marked importance to her and not altogether for the reason she had been +pleased to give me. Possibly it was on account of this last mentioned +conviction that I allowed myself to be so interested. + +"It is late," she murmured with a final glance towards those dismal +hangings which in my present mood I should not have been so greatly +surprised to see stir under her look. "However, if you will pardon the +hour and accept a seat in my small library, I will show you what only +one other person has seen besides myself." + +It was a temptation; for several reasons it was a temptation; yet-- + +"I want you to see why I am frightened of this place," she said, +flashing her eyes upon me with an almost girlish appeal. + +"I will go," said I; and following her quickly out, I locked the +bungalow door, and ignoring the hand she extended toward me, dropped the +key into my pocket. + +I thought I heard a little gasp--the least, the smallest of sounds +possible. But if so, the feeling which prompted it was not apparent in +her manner or her voice as she led the way back to her house, and +ushered me into a hall full of packing-boxes and the general litter +accompanying an approaching departure. + +"You will excuse the disorder," she cried as she piloted me through +these various encumbrances to a small but exquisitely furnished room +still glorying in its full complement of ornaments and pictures. "This +trouble which has come to one I love has made it very hard for me to do +anything. I feel helpless, at times, completely helpless." + +The dejection she expressed was but momentary, however. In another +instant she was pointing out a chair and begging me to make myself +comfortable while she went for the letter (I think she called it a +letter) which I had come there to read. + +What was I to think of her? What was I to think of myself? And what +would the story tell me to warrant the loss of what might have proved a +most valuable hour? I had not answered these questions when she +reëntered with a bundle in her hand of discolored--I should almost call +them mouldered--sheets of much crumpled paper. + +"These--" she began; then, seeing me look at them with something like +suspicion, she paused until she caught my eye, when she added gravely, +"these came to me from Mrs. Ocumpaugh. How she got them you will have to +ask her. I should say, judging from appearances--" Here she took a seat +opposite me at a small table near which I had been placed--"that they +must have been found in some old chest or possibly in some hidden drawer +of one of those curious antique desks of which more than one was +discovered in the garrets of the old house when it was pulled down to +give place to the new one." + +"Is this letter, as you call it, so old?" I asked. + +"It is dated thirty-five years ago." + +"The garret must have been a damp one," I remarked. + +She flashed me a look--I thought of it more than once afterward--and +asked if she should do the reading or I. + +"You," I rejoined, all afire with the prospect of listening to her +remarkable voice in what I had every reason to believe would call forth +its full expression. "Only let me look at those sheets first, and +understand as perfectly as I may, just what it is you are going to read +to me." + +"It's an explanation written for his heirs by Mr. Ocumpaugh. The story +itself," she went on, handing me over the papers she held, "begins +abruptly. From the way the sheet is torn across at the top, I judge that +the narrative itself was preceded by some introductory words now +lacking. When I have read it to you, I will tell you what I think those +introductory words were." + +I handed back the sheets. There seemed to be a spell in the +air--possibly it arose from her manner, which was one to rouse +expectation even in one whose imagination had not already been stirred +by a visit at night and in more than commonly bewildering company to the +place whose dark and hitherto unknown secret I was about to hear. + +"I am ready," I said, feeling my strange position, but not anxious to +change it just then for any other conceivable one. + +She drew a deep breath; again fixed me with her strange, compelling +eyes, and with the final remark: + +"The present no longer exists, we are back in the seventies--" began +this enthralling tale. + +I did not move till the last line dropped from her lips. + + + + +XI + +THE SECRET OF THE OLD PAVILION + + +I was as sane that night as I had ever been in my life. I am quite sure +of this, though I had had a merry time enough earlier in the evening +with my friends in the old pavilion (that time-honored retreat of my +ancestors), whose desolation I had thought to dissipate with a little +harmless revelry. Wine does not disturb my reason--the little wine I +drank under that unwholesome roof--nor am I a man given to sudden +excitements or untoward impulses. + +Yet this thing happened to me. + +It was after leaving the pavilion. My companions had all ridden away and +I was standing on the lawn beyond my library windows, recalling my +pleasure with them and gazing somewhat idly, I own, at that bare portion +of the old wall where the tree fell a year ago (the place where the moon +strikes with such a glitter when it rides high, as it did that night), +when--believe it or not, it is all one to me--I became conscious of a +sudden mental dread, inexplicable and alarming, which, seizing me after +an hour of unmixed pleasure and gaiety, took such a firm grip upon my +imagination that I fain would have turned my back upon the night and its +influences, only my eyes would not leave that open space of wall where I +now saw pass--not the shadow, but the veritable body of a large, black, +hungry-looking dog, which, while I looked, turned into the open gateway +connecting with the pavilion and disappeared. + +With it went the oppression which held me spell-bound. The ice melted +from my blood; I could move my limbs, and again control my thoughts and +exercise my will. + +Forcing a laugh, I whistled to that dog. The lights with which the +banquet had been illuminated were out, and every servant had left the +place; but the tables had not been entirely cleared, and I could well +understand what had drawn this strange animal thither. I whistled then, +and whistled peremptorily; but no dog answered my call. Angry, for the +rules are strict at my stables in regard to wandering brutes, I strode +toward the pavilion. Entering the great gap in the wall where a gate had +once hung, I surveyed the dismal interior before me, with feelings I +could not but consider odd in a strong man like myself. Though the wine +was scarcely dry in the glass which an hour before I had raised in this +very spot amid cheers and laughter, I found it a difficult matter to +reënter there now, in the dead of night, alone and without light. + +For this building, harmless as it had always seemed, had been, in a way, +cursed. For no reason that he ever gave, my father had doomed this +ancient adjunct to our home to perpetual solitude and decay. By his will +he had forbidden it to be destroyed--a wish respected by my guardians +and afterward by myself--and though there was nothing to hinder its +being cared for and in a manner used, the dismal influence which had +pervaded the place ever since his death had, under the sensations I have +mentioned, deepened into horror and an unspeakable repugnance. + +Yet never having had any reason to believe myself a coward, I took +boldly enough the few steps necessary to carry me inside its dismal +precincts; and meeting with nothing but darkness and silence, began to +whistle again for the dog I had certainly seen enter here. + +But no dog appeared. + +Hastening out, I took my way toward the stables. As I did so I glanced +back, and again my eyes fell on that place in the wall gleaming white in +the moonlight. Again I felt the chill, the horror! Again my eyes +remained glued to this one spot; and again I beheld the passing of that +dog, running with jaws extended and head held low--fearsome, uncanny, +supernaturally horrible; a thing to flee from, if one could only flee +instead of standing stock-still on the sward, gazing with eyes that +seemed starting from their sockets till it had plunged through that gap +in the wall and again disappeared. + +The occult and the imaginary have never appealed to me, and the moment I +felt myself a man again, I hurried on to the stables to call up my man +Jared. + +But half-way there I paused, struck by an odd remembrance. This father +of mine, Philo Ocumpaugh, had died, or so his old servants had said, +under peculiar circumstances. I had forgotten them till now--such +stories make poor headway with me--but if I was not mistaken, the facts +were these: + +He had been ailing long, and his nurses had got used to the sight of his +gaunt, white figure sitting propped up, but speechless, in the great bed +opposite the stretch of blank wall in the corner bedroom, where a +picture of his first wife, the wife of his youth, had once hung, but +which, for some years now, had been removed to where there were fewer +shadows and more sunlight. He had never been a talkative man, and in all +the five years of my own memory of him, I had never heard him raise his +voice except in command, or when the duties of hospitality required it. +Now, with the shadow of death upon him, he was absolutely speechless, +and his nurses were obliged to guess at his wishes by the movement of +his hands or the direction of his eyes. Yet he was not morose, and +sometimes was seen to struggle with the guards holding his tongue, as +though he would fain have loosed himself from their inexorable control. +Yet he never succeeded in doing so, and the nurses sat by and saw no +difference in him, till suddenly the candle, posed on a table near by, +flickered and went out, leaving only moonlight in the room. It was +moonlight so brilliant that the place seemed brighter than before, +though the beams were all concentrated on one spot, a blank space in the +middle of the wall upon which those two dim orbs in the bed were fixed +in an expectancy none there understood, for none knew that the summons +had come, and that for him the angel of death was at that moment +standing in the room. + +Yet as moonlight is not the natural light for a sick man's bedside, one +amongst them had risen for another candle, when something--I had never +stopped to hear them say what--made him pause and look back, when he saw +distinctly outlined upon the white wall-space I have mentioned, the +figure--the unimaginable figure of a dog, large, fierce and +hungry-looking, which dashed by and--was gone. Simultaneously a cry came +from the bed, the first words for months--"Aline!"--the name of his +girl-wife, dead and gone for years. All sprang; some to chase the dog, +one to aid and comfort the sick man. But no dog was there, nor did he +need comfort more. He had died with that cry on his lips, and as they +gazed at his face, sunk low now in his pillow as if he had started up +and fallen back, a dead weight, they felt the terror of the moment grow +upon them till they, too, were speechless. For the aged features were +drawn into lines of unspeakable anguish and horror. + +But as the night passed and morning came, all these lines smoothed out, +and when they buried him, those who had known him well talked of the +beautiful serenity which illumined the face which, since their first +remembrance of him, had carried the secret of a profound and unbroken +melancholy. Of the dog, nothing was said, even in whispers, till time +had hallowed that grave, and the little children about, grown to be men +and women. Then the garrulity of age had its way. + +This story, and the images it called up, came like a shock as I halted +there, and instead of going on to the stables, I turned my steps toward +the house, where I summoned from his bed a certain old servant who had +lived longer in the family than myself. + +Bidding him bring a lantern, I waited for him on the porch, and when he +came, I told him what I had seen. Instantly I knew that it was no new +story to him. He turned very pale and set down the lantern, which was +shaking very visibly in his hand. + +"Did you look up?" he asked; "when you were in the pavilion, I mean?" + +"No; why should I? The dog was on the ground. Besides--" + +"Let us go down to the pavilion," he whispered. "I want to see for +myself if--if--" + +"If what, Jared?" + +He turned his eyes on me, but did not answer. Stooping, I lifted the +lantern and put it in his hand. He was quaking like a leaf, but there +was a determination in his face far beyond the ordinary. What made him +quake--he who knew of this dog only by hearsay--and what, in spite of +this fear, gave him such resolution? I followed in his wake to see what +it was. + +The moon still shone clear upon the lawn, and it was with a certain +renewal of my former apprehensions that I approached the spot on the +wall where I had seen what I was satisfied not to see again. But though +I glanced that way--what man could have avoided it?--I perceived nothing +but the bare paint, and we went on and passed in without a word, Jared +leading the way. + +But once on the threshold of the pavilion itself, it was for him to show +the coward. Turning, he made me a gesture; one I did not understand; and +seeing that I did not understand it, he said, after a fearful look +around: + +"Do not mind the dog; that was but an appearance. Lift your eyes to the +ceiling--over there--at the extreme end toward the south--do you +see--_what_ do you see?" + +"Nothing," I replied, amazed at what struck me as utter folly. + +"Nothing?" he repeated in a relieved voice, as he lifted up his lantern. +"Ah!" came in a sort of muttered shriek from his lips, as he pointed up, +here and there, along the farther ceiling, over which the light now +played freely and fully. "What is that spot, and that spot, and that? +They were not there to-day. I was in here before the banquet, and _I_ +would have seen. What is it? Master, what is it? They call it--" + +"Well, well, what do they call it?" I asked impatiently. + +"Blood! Do you not see that it is blood? What else is red and shiny and +shows in such great drops--" + +"Nonsense!" I vociferated, taking the lantern in my own hand. "Blood on +the ceiling of my old pavilion? Where could it come from? There was no +quarrel, no fight; only hilarity--" + +"Where did the dog come from?" he whispered. + +I dropped my arm, staring at him in mingled anger and a certain +half-understood sympathy. + +"You think these stains--" I began. + +"Are as unreal as the dog? Yes, master." + +Feeling as if I were in a dream, I tossed up the lantern again. The +drops were still there, but no longer single or scattered. From side to +side, the ceiling at this one end of the building oozed with the thick +red moisture to which he had given so dreadful a name. + +Stepping back for fear the stains would resolve themselves into rain and +drop upon my forehead, I stared at Jared, who had now retreated toward +the door. + +"What makes you think it blood?" I demanded. + +"Because some have smelt and tasted it. We have never talked about it, +but this is not an uncommon occurrence. To-morrow all these stains will +be gone. They come when the dog circles the wall. Whence, no one knows. +It is our mystery. All the old servants have heard of it more than once. +The new ones have never been told. Nor would I have told you if you had +not seen the dog. It was a matter of honor with us." + +I looked at him, saw that he believed every word he said, threw another +glance at the ceiling, and led the way out. When we had reached the +house again, I said: + +"You are acquainted with the tradition underlying these appearances, as +you call them. What is it?" + +He could not tell me. He knew no more than he had already stated--gossip +and old wives' tales. But later, a certain manuscript came into my +possession through my lawyer, which I will append to this. + +It was written by my unhappy father, some little time before his last +illness, and given into the charge of the legal representative of our +family, with the express injunction that its seal was to remain intact +if for twenty years the apparition which had haunted him did not present +itself to the eyes of any of his children. But if within that time his +experience should repeat itself in theirs, this document was to be +handed over to the occupant of Homewood. Nineteen out of the twenty +years had elapsed, without the dog being seen or the ceiling of the +pavilion dropping blood. But not the twentieth; hence, the document was +mine. + +You can easily conceive with what feelings I opened it. It was headed +with this simple line: + +MY STORY WHICH I CAN WRITE BUT COULD NEVER TELL. + +I am cursed with an inability to speak when I am most deeply moved, +either by anger or tenderness. This misfortune has wrecked my life. On +the verge of old age, the sorrows and the mistakes of my early life fill +my thoughts so completely that I see but one face, hear but one voice; +yet when she was living--when _she_ could see and hear, my tongue was +silent and she never knew. Aline! my Aline! + +I married her when I was thirty-five and she eighteen. All the world +knows this; but what it does not know is that I loved her--toy, +plaything that she was--a body without a mind--(or, so I considered +her)--while she had but followed the wishes of her relatives in giving +her sweet youth to a cold and reticent man who might love, indeed, but +who had no power to tell that love, or even to show it in the ways which +women like, and which she liked, as I found out when it was too late. + +I could not help but love her. It was ingrained within me; a part of the +curse of my life to love this gentle, thoughtless, alluring thing to +which I had given my name. She had a smile--it did not come often--which +tore at my heart-strings as it welled up, just stirring the dimples in +her cheeks, and died away again in a strange and moving sweetness. +Though I reckoned her at her worth; knew that her charm was all +physical; that she neither did nor could understand a passion like mine, +much less return it, it was none the less irresistible, and I have known +myself to stand before a certain book-shelf in the turn of the stairway +for many minutes together, because I knew that she would soon be coming +down, and that, when she did, some ribbon from her gown would flutter by +me, and I should feel the soft contact and go away happy to my books. +Yet, if she stopped to look back at me, I could only return her look +with one she doubtless called harsh, for she had not eyes to see below +the surface. + +I tell you all this, lest you may not understand. She was not your +mother and you may begrudge me the affection I felt for her; if so, +thrust these leaves into the fire and seek not the explanation of what +has surprised you; for there is no word written here which does not find +its meaning in the intense love I bore for her, my young girl-wife, and +the tragedy which this love has brought into my life. She was slight in +body, slight in mind and of slight feeling. I first discovered this last +on the day I put my mother's ring on her finger. She laughed as I fitted +it close and kissed the little hand. Not from embarrassment or childish +impulse; I could have understood that; but indifferently, like one who +did not know and never could. Yet I married her, and for six months +lived in a fool's paradise. Then came that hall. It was held near here, +very near, at one of our neighbor's, in fact. I remember that we walked, +and that, coming to the driveway, I lifted her and carried her across. +Not with a smile--do not think it. More likely with a frown, though my +heart was warm and happy; for when I set her down, she shook herself, +and I thought she did it to hide a shudder, and then I could not have +spoken a word had my life depended on it. + +I little knew what lay back of that shudder. Even after I had seen her +dance with him, not only once, but twice, I never dreamed that her +thoughts, light though they were, were not all with me. It took that +morsel of paper and the plain words it contained to satisfy me of this, +and then-- But passion is making me incoherent. What do you know of that +scrap of paper, hidden from the whole world from the moment I first read +it till this hour of full confession? It fluttered from some one's hand +during the dance. I did not see whose. I only saw it after it had fallen +at my feet, and as it lay there open I naturally read the words. They +were written by a man to a woman, urging flight and setting the hour +and place for meeting. I was conscious of shame in reading it, and let +these last details escape me. As I put it in my pocket I remember +thinking, "Some poor devil made miserable!" for there had been hint in +it of the husband. But I had no thought--I swear it before God--of who +that husband was till I beheld her flit back through the open doorway, +with terror in her mien and searching eyes fixed on the floor. Then hell +opened before me, and I saw my happiness go down into gulfs I had never +before sounded, even in imagination. + +But even at that evil hour my countenance scarcely changed--I was +opposite a mirror, and I caught a glimpse of myself as I moved. But +there must have been some change in my voice--for when I addressed her, +she started and turned her face upon me with a wild and pathetic look +which knocked so at my heart that I wished I had never read those words, +and so could return her the paper with no misgiving as to its contents. +But having read it, I could not do this; so, beyond a petty greeting, I +said nothing and let the moment pass, and she with it; for couples were +dancing and she was soon again in the whirl. I am not a dancing man +myself, and I had leisure to think and madden myself with contemplation +of my wrecked life and questions as to what I should do to her and to +him, and to the world where such things could happen. I had forgotten +the details of time and place, or rather had put them out of my mind, +and I would not look at the words again--could not. But as the minutes +went by, the remembrance returned, startling and convincing, that the +hour was two and the place--our old pavilion. + +I walked about after that like a man in whose breast the sources of life +are frozen. I chatted--I who never chatted--with women, and with men. I +even smiled--once. That was when my little white-faced wife asked me if +it were not time to go home. Even a man under torture might find +strength to smile if the inquisitor should ask if he were not ready to +be released. + +And we went home. + +I did not carry her this time across the driveway; but when we parted in +the library, where I always spent an hour before retiring, I picked out +a lily from a vase of flowers standing on my desk and held it out to +her. She stared at it for a moment, quite as white as the lily, then she +slowly put out her hand and took it. I felt no mercy after that, and +bade her good-night with the remark that I should have to write far into +the morning, and that she need not worry over my light, which I should +not probably put out till she was half through with her night's rest. + +For answer, she dropped the lily. I found it next morning lying withered +and brown, in the hall-way. + +That light did burn far into the morning; but I was not there to trim +it. Before the fatal hour had struck, I had left the house and made my +way to the pavilion. As I crossed the sward I saw the gleam of a lantern +at the masthead of a small boat riding near our own landing-place, and I +understood where he was at this hour, and by what route he hoped to take +my darling. "A route she will never travel," thought I, striving to keep +out of my mind and conscience the vision of another route, another +travel, which that sweet young body might take if my mood held and my +purpose strengthened. + +There was no moon that night, and the copse in which our pavilion stands +was like a blot against the starless heavens. As I drew near it, my dog, +the invariable companion of my walks, lifted a short, sharp bark from +the stables. But I knew whose hand had fastened him, and I went on +without giving him a thought. At the door of the pavilion I stopped. All +was dark within as without, and the silence was something to overwhelm +the heart. She was not there then, nor was he. But he would be coming +soon, and up or down between the double hedge-rows. + +I went to meet him. It was a small detail, but possibly a necessary one. +In her eyes he was probably handsome and gifted with all that I openly +lacked. But he was shallow and small for a man like me to be concerned +about. I laughed inwardly and with very conceivable scorn as I heard the +faint fall of his footsteps in the darkness. It was nearly two and he +meant to be prompt. + +Our coming together in that narrow path was very much what I expected it +to be. I had put out my arms and touched the hedge on either side, so +that he could not escape me. When I heard him drawing close, I found +the voice I had not had for her, and observed very quietly and with the +cold politeness of a messenger: + +"My wife finds herself indisposed since the ball, and begs to be excused +from joining you in the pleasant sail you proposed to her." + +That, and no more; except that when he started and almost fell into my +arms, I found strength to add: + +"The wind blows fresh to-night; you will have no difficulty in leaving +this shore. The difficulty will be to return." + +I had no heart to kill him; he was young and he was frightened. I heard +the sob in his throat as I dropped my arm and he went flying down to the +river. + +This was child's play; the rest-- + +My portion is to tell it; forty years ago it all befell, and till now no +word of it has ever left my lips. + +There was no sound of her advancing tread across the lawn as I stepped +back into my own grounds to enter the pavilion. But as I left the path +and put foot inside the wall, I heard a far, faint sound like the harsh +closing of a door in timid hands, followed by another bark from the +dog, louder and sharper than the first--for he did not recognize my +Aline as mistress, though I had striven for six months to teach him the +place she held in my heart. + +By this I knew she was coming, and that what preparations I had to make +must be made soon. They were not many. Entering the well-known place, I +lit the lantern I had brought with me and set it down near the door. It +cast a feeble light about the entrance, but left great shadows in the +rear. This I had calculated on, and into these shadows I now stepped. + +The pavilion, as you remember it, is not what it was then. I had used it +little, fancying more my own library up at the house, but it was not +utterly without furnishings, and to young eyes might even look +attractive, with love, or fancied love, to mellow its harsh lines and +lend romance to its solitude. At this hour and under these circumstances +it was a dismal hole to me; and as I stood there waiting, I thought how +the place fitted the deed--if deed it was to be. + +I had always thought her timid, afraid of the night and all threatening +things. But as I listened to the sound of her soft footfall at the door, +I realized that even her breast could grow strong under the influence of +a real or fancied passion. It was a shock--but I did not cry out--only +set my teeth together and turned a little so that what light there was +would fall on my form rather than on my face. + +She entered; I felt rather than heard the tremulous push she gave to the +door, and the quick drawing in of her breath as she put her foot across +the threshold. These sapped my courage. This fear, this almost +hesitation, drew me from thoughts of myself to thoughts of her, and it +was in a daze of mingled purposes and regrets that I felt her at last at +my side. + +"Walter!" fell softly, doubtfully from her lips. + +It was the name of him the dip of whose oars as he made for his boat I +could now faintly hear in the river below us. + +Turning, I looked her in the face. + +"You are late," said I. God gave me words in my extremity. "Walter has +gone." Then, as the madness of terror replaced love in her eyes, I +lifted her forcibly and carried her to the window, where I drew aside +the vines. "That is his boat's lantern you see drawing away from the +dock. I bade him God-speed. He will not come again." + +Without a word she looked, then fell back on my arm. It was not life +which forsook her face, and left her whole sweet body inert--that I +could have borne, for did she not merit death who had killed my love, +killed me?--but happiness, the glow of youthful blood, the dreams of a +youthful brain. And seeing this, seeing that the heart I thought a +child's heart had gone down in this shipwreck, I felt my anger swell and +master me body and soul, and before I knew it, I was towering over her +and she was cowering at my feet, crushed and with hands held up in +defense, hands that had been like rose-leaves in my grasp, futile hands, +but raised now in entreaty for her life to me, to me who had loved her. + +Why did they not move me? Why did my muscles tighten instead of relax? I +do not know; I had never thought myself a cruel man, but at that instant +I felt that this toy of my strong manhood had done harm far beyond its +value, and that it would comfort me to break it and toss it far aside; +only I could not bear the cry which now left her lips: + +"I am so young! not yet, not yet, Philo! I am so young! Let me live a +little while." + +Was it a woman's plea, conscious of the tenderness she appealed to, or +only a child's instinctive grasping after life, just life? If it were +the first, it would be easy to finish; but a child's terror, a child's +longing--that pulled hard at my manhood, and under the possibility, my +own arm fell. + +Instantly her head drooped. No defense did she utter; no further plea +did she make; she simply waited. + +"You have deserved death." This I managed to utter. "But if you will +swear to obey me, you shall not pay your forfeit till you have had a +further taste of life. Not in my house; there is not sufficient freedom +within its walls for you; but in the broad world, where people dance and +sing and grow old at their leisure, without duty and without care. For +three months you shall have this, and have it to your heart's content. +Then you shall come back to me my true wife, if your heart so prompts; +if not, to tell me of your failure and quit me for ever. But--" Here I +fear my voice grew terrible, for her hands instinctively rose again. +"Those three months must be lived unstained. As you are in God's sight +this hour, I demand of you to swear that, if you forget this or +disregard it, or for any cause subject my name to dishonor, that you +will return unbidden at the first moment your reason returns to you, to +take what punishment I will. On this condition I send you away to-night. +Aline, will you promise?" + +She did not answer; but her face rose. I did not understand its look. +There was pathos in it, and something else. That something else troubled +me. + +"Are you dissatisfied?" I asked. "Is the time too short? Do you want +more months for dancing?" + +She shook her head and the little hands rose again: + +"Do not send me away," she faintly entreated; "I don't know why--but +I--had rather stay." + +"With me? Impossible. Are you ready to promise, Aline?" + +Then she rose and looked me in the eye with courage, almost with +resolution. + +"As I live!" said she. + +And I knew she would keep her word. + +The next thing I remember of that night was the sight of her little +white, shivering figure looking out at me from the carriage that was to +carry her away. The night was cold, and I had tucked her in with as much +care as I might have done the evening before, when I still worshiped +her, still thought her mine, or at least as much mine as she was any +one's. When I had done this and pressed a generous gift into her hand, I +stood a minute at the carriage door, in pity of her aspect. She looked +so pinched and pale, so dazed and hopeless. Had she been alone--but the +companion with whom I had provided her was at her side and my tongue was +tied. I turned, and the driver started up the horses. + +"Philo!" I heard blown by me on the wind. + +Was it she who called? No, for there was anguish in the cry, the anguish +of a woman, and she was only a frightened, disheartened child whom I had +sent away to--dance. + +One month, two months went by, and I began to take up my life. Another, +and she would be home for good or ill. I thought that I could live +through that other. I had heard of her; not from her--that I did not +require; and the stories were all of the same character. She was +enjoying life in the great city to which I had sent her; radiant at +night, if a little spiritless by day. She was at balls, at concerts and +at theaters. She wore jewels and shone with the best; I might be proud +of her conquests and the sweetness and dignity with which she bore +herself. Thus her friends wrote. + +But she wrote nothing; I had not required it. Once, some one--a visitor +at the house--spoke of having seen her. "She was surrounded with +admirers," he had said. "How early our American women ripen!" was his +comment. "She held her head like one who has held sway for years; but I +thought her a trifle worn; as if pleasure absorbed too much of her +sleep. You must look out for her, Judge." + +And I smiled grimly enough, I own, to think just how I was looking out +for her. + +Then came the thunderbolt. + +"I am told that no one ever sees her in the day-time; that she is +always busy, days. But she does not look as if she took that time for +rest. What can your little wife be doing? You ought to hurry up that +important opinion of yours and go see." + +He was right; what was she doing? And why shouldn't I go see? There was +no obstacle but my own will; but that is the greatest obstacle a man can +have. I remained at Homewood, but the four weeks of our further +probation looked like a year. + +Meanwhile, I had my way with the pavilion. I have shown you my heart, +sometimes at its best, oftenest at its worst. I will show it to you +again in this. I had a wall built round it, close against the thicket in +which it lay embedded. This wall was painted white, and near it I had +lamps placed which were lit at nightfall. Should a figure pass that wall +I could see it from my window. No one could enter that doorway now, +without running the risk of my seeing him from where I sat at my desk. + +Did I feel easier? I do not know that I did. I merely followed an +impulse I dared not name to myself. + +Two weeks of this final month went by. Then (it was in the evening) some +one came running up from the grounds, with the message that Mrs. +Ocumpaugh had ridden into the gate, but that she was not ready to enter +the house. Would I meet her at the pavilion? + +I was in the library, at my desk, with my eyes on the wall, when this +was told me. I had just seen the fierce figure of that unmanageable dog +of mine run by that white surface, and my lips were open to order him +tied up, when he, and everything else in this whole world, was forgotten +in this crushing news of her return. For the three months were not up +and her presence here could mean but one thing--she had found temptation +too much for her, and she had come back to tell me so in obedience to +her promise. + +"I will go meet Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I said. + +The man stared. + +"I will go meet Mrs. Ocumpaugh now," I repeated, and tried to rise. + +But my limbs refused; death had entered my heart, and it was some few +minutes before I found myself upon the lawn outside. + +When I got there I was trembling and so uncertain of movement that I +tottered at the gate. But seeing signs of her presence within, I +straightened myself and went in. + +[Illustration: "I SHOULD NOT HAVE KNOWN THE WOMAN WHO STOOD THERE WITH +MY NAME FORMED ON HER LIPS."] + +She was standing at the extreme end of the room when I entered, in the +full light of the solitary moonbeam which shot in at the western +casement. She had thrown aside her hat and coat, and never in all my +life had I seen anything so ethereal as the worn face and wasted form +she thus disclosed. Had it not been for the haunting and pathetic smile +which by some freak of fate gave poignancy to her otherwise infantile +beauty, I should not have known the woman who stood there with my name +formed on her lips. + +"Destroyed!" was my thought; and the rage which I felt that moment +against fate flushed my whole being, and my arms went up, not in threat +against her, but to an avenging Heaven, when I heard an impetuous rush, +an angry growl, and the delicate, trembling figure went down under the +leap of the monstrous animal which I had taught to love me, but could +never teach to love her. + +In horror and unspeakable anguish of soul I called off the dog; and, +stooping with bitter cries, I took her in my arms. + +"Hurt?" I gasped. "Hurt, Aline?" I looked at her anxiously. + +"No," she whispered, "happy." And before I realized my own feelings or +the passion with which I drew her to my breast, she had nestled her head +against my heart, smiled and died. + +The shock of the dog's onslaught had killed her. + +I would not believe it at first, but when I was quite sure, I took out +the pistol I carried in my breast and shot the cowering brute midway +between the eyes. + +When this was done, I turned back to her. There was no light but the +moon, and I needed no other. The clear beams falling on her face made +her look pure and stainless and sweet. I could almost have loved her +again as I marked the tender smile which lingered from that passing +moment on her lips. "Happy," she had said. What did she mean by that +"Happy"? As I asked myself I heard a cry. The companion who had been +with her had rushed in at the doorway, and was gazing in sorrow and +amazement at the white form lying outstretched and senseless against +that farther wall. + +"Oh," she cried, in a tone that assured me she had not seen the dog +lying in his blood at my back; "dead already? dead at the first glance? +at the first word? Ah, she knew better than I, poor lamb. I thought she +would get well if she once got home. She wearied so for you, sir, and +for Homewood!" + +I thought myself quite mad; past understanding aright the words +addressed to me. + +"She wearied--" I began. + +"With all her soul for you and Homewood," the young woman repeated. +"That is, since her illness developed." + +"Her illness?" + +"Yes, she has been ill ever since she went away. The cold of that first +journey was too much for her. But she kept up for several weeks--doing +what no other woman ever did before with so little strength and so +little hope. Danced at night and--" + +"And--and--what by day, what?" I could hardly get the words out of my +mouth. + +"Studied. Learned what she thought you would +like--French--music--politics. It was to have been a surprise. Poor +soul! it took her very life. She did not sleep-- Oh, sir, what is it?" + +I was standing over her, probably a terrifying figure. Lights were +playing before my eyes, strange sounds were in my ears, everything about +me seemed resolving itself into chaos. + +"What do you mean?" I finally gasped. "She studied--to please _me_? Why +did she come back, then, so soon--" I paused, choked. I had been about +to give away my secret. "I mean, why did she come thus suddenly, without +warning me of what I might expect? I would have gone--" + +"I told her so; but she was very determined to come to you herself--to +this very pavilion. She had set the time later, but this morning the +doctor told her that her symptoms were alarming, and without consulting +him or heeding the advice of any of us, she started for home. She was +buoyant on the way, and more than once I heard her softly repeating your +name. Her heart was very loving-- Oh, sir, you are ill!" + +"No, no," I cried, crushing my hand against my mouth to keep down the +cry of anguish and despair which tore its way up from my heart. "Before +other hands touch her, other eyes see her, tell me when she began--I +will not say to love me, but to weary for me and--Homewood." + +"Perhaps she has told you herself. Here is the letter, sir, she bade me +give you if she did not reach here alive. She wrote it this morning, +after the doctor told her what I have said." + +"Give--give--" + +She put it in my hand. I glanced at it in the moonlight, read the first +few words, and felt the world reel round me. Thrusting the letter in my +breast, I bade the woman, who watched me with fascinated eyes, to go now +and rouse the house. When she was gone I stepped back into the shadows, +and catching hold of the murderous beast, I dragged him out and about +the wall to a thick clump of bushes. Here I left him and went back to my +darling. When they came in, they found her in my arms. Her head had +fallen back and I was staring, staring, at her white throat. + +That night, when all was done for her which could be done, I shut myself +into my library and again opened that precious letter. I give it, to +show how men may be mistaken when they seek to weigh women's souls: + + _My Husband:_ + + I love you. As I shall be dead when you read this, I may say so + without fear of rebuff. I did not love you then; I did not love + anybody; I was thoughtless and fond of pleasure, and craved + affectionate words. He saw this and worked on my folly; but when + his project failed and I saw his boat creep away, I found that what + feeling I had was for the man who had thwarted him, and I felt + myself saved. + + If I had not taken cold that night I might have lived to prove + this. I know that you do not love me very much, but perhaps you + would have done so had you seen me grow a little wiser and more + like what your wife should be. I was trying when--O Philo, I can + not write--I can not think. I am coming to you--I + love--forgive--and take me back again, alive or dead. I love you--I + love-- + +As I finished, the light, which had been burning low, suddenly went out. +The window which opened before me was still unshuttered. Before me, +across the wide spaces of the lawn, shone the pavilion wall, white in +the moonlight. As I stared in horror at it, a trembling seized my whole +body, and the hair on my head rose. The dark figure of a running dog had +passed across it--_the dog which lay dead under the bushes_. + +"God's punishment," I murmured, and laid my head down on that pathetic +letter and sobbed. + +The morning found me there. It was not till later that the man sent to +bury the dog came to me with the cry, "Something is wrong with the +pavilion! When I went in to close the window I found the ceiling at that +end of the room strangely dabbled. It looks like blood. And the spots +grew as I looked." + +Aghast, bruised in spirit and broken of heart, I went down, after that +sweet body was laid in its grave, to look. The stains he had spoken of +were gone. But I lived to see them reappear,--as you have. + +God have mercy on our souls! + + + + +XII + +BEHIND THE WALL + + +"A most pathetic and awesome history!" I exclaimed, after the pause +which instinctively followed the completion of this tale, read as few of +its kind have ever been read, by this woman of infinite resources in +feeling and expression. + +"Is it not? Do you wonder that a visit in the dead of night to a spot +associated with such superstitious horrors should frighten me?" she +added as she bundled up the scattered sheets with a reckless hand. + +"I do not. I am not sure but that I am a little bit frightened myself," +I smiled, following with my eye a single sheet which had escaped to the +floor. "Allow me," I cried, stooping to lift it. As I did so I observed +that it was the first sheet, the torn one--and that a line or so of +writing was visible at the top which I was sure had not been amongst +those she had read. + +"What words are those?" I asked. + +"I don't know, they are half gone as you can see. They have nothing to +do with the story. I read you the whole of that." + +Mistress as she was of her moods and expression I detected traces of +some slight confusion. + +"The putting up of the partition is not explained," I remarked. + +"Oh, that was put up in horror of the stains which from time to time +broke out on the ceiling at that end of the room." + +I wished to ask her if this was her conclusion or if that line or two I +have mentioned was more intelligible than she had acknowledged it to be. +But I refrained from a sense of propriety. + +If she appreciated my forbearance she did not show it. Rising, she +thrust the papers into a cupboard, casting a scarcely perceptible glance +at the clock as she did so. + +I took the hint and rose. Instantly she was all smiles. + +"You have forgotten something, Mr. Trevitt. Surely you do not intend to +carry away with you my key to the bungalow." + +"I was thinking of it," I returned lightly. "I am not quite through with +that key." Then before she could recover from her surprise, I added +with such suavity as I had been able to acquire in my intercourse with +my more cultivated clients: + +"I have to thank you, Mrs. Carew, for an hour of thrilling interest. +Absorbed though I am in the present mystery, my mind has room for the +old one. Possibly because there is sometimes a marked connection between +old family events and new. There may be some such connection in this +case. I should like the opportunity of assuring myself there is not." + +She said nothing; I thought I understood why. More suavely yet, I +continued, with a slight, a very slight movement toward the door: +"Rarely have I had the pleasure of listening to such a tale read by such +an interpreter. It will always remain in my memory, Mrs. Carew. But the +episode is over and I return to my present duty and the bungalow." + +"The bungalow! You are going back to the bungalow?" + +"Immediately." + +"What for? Didn't you see all there was to see?" + +"Not quite." + +"I don't know what there can be left." + +"Nothing of consequence, most likely, but you can not wish me to have +any doubts on the subject." + +"No, no, of course not." + +The carelessness of her tone did not communicate itself to her manner. +Seeing that my unexpected proposition had roused her alarm, I grew wary +and remarked: + +"I was always overscrupulous." + +With a lift of her shoulders--a dainty gesture which I congratulated +myself I could see unmoved--she held out her hand in a mute appeal for +the key, but seeing that I was not to be shaken in my purpose, reached +for the wrap she had tossed on a chair and tied it again over her head. + +"What are you going to do?" I asked. + +"Accompany you," she declared. + +"Again? I thought the place frightened you." + +"It does," she replied. "I had rather visit any other spot in the whole +world; but if it is your intention to go back there, it is mine to go +with you." + +"You are very good," I replied. + +But I was seriously disconcerted notwithstanding. I had reckoned upon a +quiet hour in the bungalow by myself; moreover, I did not understand her +motive for never trusting me there alone. Yet as this very distrust was +suggestive, I put a good face on the matter and welcomed her company +with becoming alacrity. After all, I might gain more than I could +possibly lose by having her under my eye for a little longer. Strong as +was her self-control there were moments when the real woman showed +herself, and these moments were productive. + +As we were passing out she paused to extinguish a lamp which was +slightly smoking,--I also thought she paused an instant to listen. At +all events her ears were turned toward the stairs down which there came +the murmur of two voices, one of them the little boy's. + +"It is time Harry was asleep," she cried. "I promised to sing to him. +You won't be long, will you?" + +"You need not be very long," was my significant retort. "I can not speak +for myself." + +Was I playing with her curiosity or anxieties or whatever it was that +affected her? I hardly knew; I spoke as impulse directed and waited in +cold blood--or was it hot blood?--to see how she took it. + +Carelessly enough, for she was a famous actress except when taken by +surprise. Checking an evident desire of calling out some direction up +stairs, she followed me to the door, remarking cheerfully, "You can not +be very long either; the place is not large enough." + +My excuse--or rather the one I made to myself for thus returning to a +place I had seemingly exhausted, was this. In the quick turn I had made +in leaving on the former occasion, my foot had struck the edge of the +large rug nailed over the center of the floor, and unaccountably +loosened it. To rectify this mishap, and also to see how so slight a +shock could have lifted the large brass nails by which it had been held +down to the floor, seemed reason enough for my action. But how to draw +her attention to so insignificant a fact without incurring her ridicule +I could not decide in our brief passage back to the bungalow, and +consequently was greatly relieved when, upon opening the door and +turning my lantern on the scene, I discovered that in our absence the +rug had torn itself still farther free from the floor and now lay with +one of its corners well curled over--the corner farthest from the door +and nearest the divan where little Gwendolen had been lying when she was +lifted and carried away--where? + +Mrs. Carew saw it too and cast me a startled look which I met with a +smile possibly as ambiguous as the feeling which prompted it. + +"Who has been here?" she asked. + +"Ourselves." + +"Did we do that?" + +"I did; or rather my foot struck the edge of the rug as I turned to go +out with you. Shall I replace it and press back the nails?" + +"If you will be so good." + +Do what she would there was eagerness in her tone. Remarking this, I +decided to give another and closer look at the floor and the nails. I +found the latter had not been properly inserted; or rather that there +were two indentations for every nail, a deep one and one quite shallow. +This caused me to make some examination of the others, those which had +not been drawn from the floor, and I found that one or two of them were +equally insecure, but not all; only those about this one corner. + +Mrs. Carew, who had paused, confused and faltering in the doorway, in +her dismay at seeing me engaged in this inspection instead of in +replacing the rug as I had proposed, now advanced a step, so that our +glances met as I looked up with the remark: + +"This rug seems to have been lately raised at this corner. Do you know +if the police had it up?" + +"I don't. I believe so--oh, Mr. Trevitt," she cried, as I rose to my +feet with the corner of the rug in my hand, "what are you going to do?" + +She had run forward impetuously and was now standing close beside +me--inconveniently close. + +"I am going to raise this rug," I informed her. "That is, just at this +corner. Pardon me, I shall have to ask you to move." + +"Certainly, of course," she stammered. "Oh, what is going to happen +now?" Then as she watched me: "There is--there _is_ something under it. +A door in the floor--a--a--Mrs. Ocumpaugh never told me of this." + +"Do you suppose she knew it?" I inquired, looking up into her face, +which was very near but not near enough to be in the full light of the +lantern, which was pointed another way. + +"This rug appears to have been almost soldered to the floor, everywhere +but here. There! it is thrown back. Now, if you will be so very good as +to hold the lantern, I will try and lift up the door." + +"I can not. See, how my hands shake! What are we about to discover? +Nothing, I pray, nothing. Suspense would be better than that." + +"I think you will be able to hold it," I urged, pressing the lantern +upon her. + +"Yes; I have never been devoid of courage. But--but--don't ask me to +descend with you," she prayed, as she lifted the lantern and turned it +dexterously enough on that portion of the door where a ring lay outlined +in the depths of its outermost plank. + +"I will not; but you will come just the same; you can not help it," I +hazarded, as with the point of my knife-blade I lifted the small round +of wood which filled into the ring and thus made the floor level. + +"Now, if this door is not locked, we will have it up," I cried, pulling +at the ring with a will. The door was not locked and it came up readily +enough, discovering some half-dozen steps, down which I immediately +proceeded to climb. + +"Oh, I can not stay here alone," she protested, and prepared to follow +me in haste just as I expected her to do the moment she saw the light +withdrawn. + +"Step carefully," I enjoined. "If you will honor me with your hand--" +But she was at my side before the words were well out. + +"What is it? What kind of place do you make it out to be; and is there +anything here you--do--not--want--to see?" + +I flashed the light around and incidentally on her. She was not +trembling now. Her cheeks were red, her eyes blazing. She was looking at +me, and not at the darksome place about her. But as this was natural, it +being a woman's way to look for what she desires to learn in the face of +the man who for the moment is her protector, I shifted the light into +the nooks and corners of the low, damp cellar in which we now found +ourselves. + +"Bins for wine and beer," I observed, "but nothing in them." Then as I +measured the space before me with my eye, "It runs under the whole +house. See, it is much larger than the room above." + +"Yes," she mechanically repeated. + +I lowered the lantern to the floor but quickly raised it again. + +"What is that on the other side?" I queried. "I am sure there is a break +in the wall over in that corner." + +"I can not see," she gasped; certainly she was very much frightened. +"Are you going to cross the floor?" + +"Yes; and if you do not wish to follow me, sit down on these steps--" + +"No, I will go where you go; but this is very fearful. Why, what is the +matter?" + +I had stepped aside in order to avoid a trail of footprints I saw +extending across the cellar floor. + +"Come around this way," I urged. "If you will follow me I will keep you +from being too much frightened." + +She did as I told her. Softly her steps fell in behind mine, and thus +with wary tread and peering eyes we made our way to the remote end, +where we found--or rather where I found--that the break which I had +noticed in the uniformity of the wall was occasioned by a pile of old +boxes, arranged so as to make steps up to a hole cut through the floor +above. + +With a sharp movement I wheeled upon her. + +"Do you see that?" I asked, pointing back over my shoulder. + +"Steps," she cried, "going up into that part of the building +where--where--" + +"Will you attempt them with me? Or will you stay here, in the darkness?" + +"I--will--stay--here." + +It was said with shortened breath; but she seemed less frightened than +when we started to cross the cellar. At all events a fine look of daring +had displaced the tremulous aspect which had so changed the character of +her countenance a few minutes before. + +"I will make short work of it," I assured her as I hastily ran up the +steps. "Drop your face into your hands and you will not be conscious of +the darkness. Besides, I will talk to you all the time. There! I have +worked my way up through the hole. I have placed my lantern on the floor +above and I see-- What! are you coming?" + +"Yes, I am coming." + +Indeed, she was close beside me, maintaining her footing on the toppling +boxes by a grip on my disengaged arm. + +"Can you see?" I asked. "Wait! let me pull you up; we might as well +stand on the floor as on these boxes." + +Climbing into the room above, I offered her my hand, and in another +moment we stood together in the noisome precincts of that abominable +spot, with whose doleful story she had just made me acquainted. + +A square of impenetrable gloom confronted me at the first glance--what +might not be the result of a second? + +I turned to consult the appearance of the lady beside me before I took +this second look. Had she the strength to stand the ordeal? Was she as +much moved--or possibly more moved than myself? As a woman, and the +intimate friend of the Ocumpaughs, she should be. But I could not +perceive that she was. For some reason, once in view of this mysterious +place, she was strangely, inexplicably, impassibly calm. + +"You can bear it?" I queried. + +"I must--only end it quickly." + +"I will," I replied, and I held out my lantern. + +I am not a superstitious man, but instinctively I looked up before I +looked about me. I have no doubt that Mrs. Carew did the same. But no +stains were to be seen on those blackened boards now; or rather, they +were dark with one continuous stain; and next moment I was examining +with eager scrutiny the place itself. + +Accustomed to the appearance of the cheerful and well-furnished room on +the other side of the partition, it was a shock to me (I will not say +what it was to her) to meet the bare decaying walls and mouldering +appurtenances of this dismal hole. True, we had just come from a +description of the place in all the neglect of its many years of +desolation, yet the smart finish of the open portion we had just left +poorly prepared us for what we here encountered. + +But the first impression over--an impression which was to recur to me +many a night afterward in dreams--I remembered the nearer and more +imperative cause which had drawn us thither, and turning the light into +each and every corner, looked eagerly for what I so much dreaded to +find. + +A couch to which some old cushions still clung stood against the farther +wall. Thank God! it was empty; so were all the corners of the room. +Nothing living and--nothing dead! + +Turning quickly upon Mrs. Carew, I made haste to assure her that our +fears were quite unfounded. + +But she was not even looking my way. Her eyes were on the ground, and +she seemed merely waiting--in some impatience, evidently, but yet merely +waiting--for me to finish and be gone. + +This was certainly odd, for the place was calculated in itself to rouse +curiosity, especially in one who knew its story. A table, thick with +dust and blurred with dampness, still gave tokens of a bygone +festivity--among which a bottle and some glasses stood conspicuous. +Cards were there too, dingy and green with mould--some on the +table--some on the floor; while the open lid of a small desk pushed up +close to a book-case full of books, still held a rusty pen and the +remnants of what looked like the mouldering sheets of unused paper. As +for the rest--desolation, neglect, horror--but no _child_. + +The relief was enormous. + +"It is a dreadful place," I exclaimed; "but it might have been worse. Do +you want to see things nearer? Shall we cross the floor?" + +"No, no. We have not found Gwendolen; let us go. Oh, let us go!" + +A thrill of feeling had crept into her voice. Who could wonder? Yet I +was not ready to humor her very natural sensibilities by leaving quite +so abruptly. The floor interested me; the cushions of that old couch +interested me; the sawn boards surrounding the hole--indeed, many +things. + +"We will go in a moment," I assured her; "but, first, cast your eyes +along the floor. Don't you see that some one has preceded us here; and +that not so very long ago? Some one with dainty feet and a skirt that +fell on the ground; in short, a woman and--a lady!" + +"I don't see," she faltered, very much frightened; then quickly: "Show +me, show me." + +I pointed out the marks in the heavy dust of the long neglected floor; +they were unmistakable. + +"Oh!" she cried, "what it is to be a detective! But who could have been +here? Who would want to be here? I think it is horrible myself, and if I +were alone I should faint from terror and the close air." + +"We will not remain much longer," I assured her, going straight to the +couch. "I do not like it either, but--" + +"What have you found now?" + +Her voice seemed to come from a great distance behind me. Was this on +account of the state of her nerves or mine? I am willing to think the +latter, for at that moment my eye took in two unexpected details. A dent +as of a child's head in one of the mangy sofa-pillows and a crushed bit +of colored sugar which must once have been a bit of choice +confectionery. + +"Some one besides a lady has been here," I decided, pointing to the one +and bringing back the other. "See! this bit of candy is quite fresh. You +must acknowledge that. _This_ was not walled up years ago with the rest +of the things we see about us." + +Her eyes stared at the sugary morsel I held out toward her in my open +palm. Then she made a sudden rush which took her to the side of the +couch. + +[Illustration: "GWENDOLEN HERE?" SHE MOANED. "GWENDOLEN HERE?"] + +"Gwendolen here?" she moaned. "Gwendolen here?" + +"Yes," I began; "do not--" + +But she had already left the spot and was backing toward the opening up +which we had come. As she met my eye she made a quick turn and plunged +below. + +"I must have air," she gasped. + +With a glance at the floor over which she had so rapidly passed, I +hastily followed her, smiling grimly to myself. Intentionally or +unintentionally, she had by this quick passage to and fro effectually +confused, if not entirely obliterated, those evidences of a former +intrusion which, with misguided judgment, I had just pointed out to her. +But recalling the still more perfect line of footprints left below to +which I had not called her attention, I felt that I could afford to +ignore the present mishap. + +As I reached the cellar bottom I called to her, for she was already +half-way across. + +"Did you notice where the boards had been sawed?" I asked. "The sawdust +is still on the floor, and it smells as fresh as if the saw had been at +work there yesterday." + +"No doubt, no doubt," she answered back over her shoulder, still +hurrying on so that I had to run lest she should attempt the steps in +utter darkness. + +When I reached the floor of the bungalow she was in the open door +panting. Watching her with one eye, I drew back the trap into place and +replaced the rug and the three nails I had loosened. Then I shut the +slide of the lantern and joined her where she stood. + +"Do you feel better?" I asked. "It was a dismal quarter of an hour. But +it was not a lost one." + +She drew the door to and locked it before she answered; then it was with +a question. + +"What do you make of all this, Mr. Trevitt?" + +I replied as directly as the circumstances demanded. + +"Madam, it is a startling answer to the question you put me before we +first left your house. You asked then if the child in the wagon was +Gwendolen. How could it have been she with this evidence before us of +her having been concealed here at the very time that wagon was being +driven away from--" + +"I do not think you have reason enough--" she began and stopped, and did +not speak again till we halted at the foot of her own porch. Then with +the frank accent most in keeping with her general manner, however much I +might distrust both accent and manner, she added as if no interval had +intervened: "If those signs you noted are proofs to you that Gwendolen +was shut up in that walled-off portion of the bungalow while some were +seeking her in the water and others in the wagon, _then where is she +now_?" + + + + +XIII + +"WE SHALL HAVE TO BEGIN AGAIN" + + +It was a leading question which I was not surprised to see accompanied +by a very sharp look from beneath the cloudy wrap she had wound about +her head. + +"You suspect some one or something," continued Mrs. Carew, with a return +of the indefinable manner which had characterized her in the beginning +of our interview. "Whom? What?" + +I should have liked to answer her candidly, and in the spirit, if not +the words, of the prophet of old, but her womanliness disarmed me. With +her eyes on me I could get no further than a polite acknowledgment of +defeat. + +"Mrs. Carew, I am all at sea. We shall have to begin again." + +"Yes," she answered like an echo--was it sadly or gladly?--"you will +have to begin again." Then with a regretful accent: "And I can not help +you, for I am going to sail to-morrow. I positively must go. Cablegrams +from the other side hurry me. I shall have to leave Mrs. Ocumpaugh in +the midst of her distress." + +"What time does your steamer sail, Mrs. Carew?" + +"At five o'clock in the afternoon, from the Cunard docks." + +"Nearly sixteen hours from now. Perhaps fate--or my efforts--will favor +us before then with some solution of this disheartening problem. Let us +hope so." + +A quick shudder to hide which she was reaching out her hand, when the +door behind us opened and a colored girl looked out. Instantly and with +the slightest possible loss of self-possession Mrs. Carew turned to +motion the intruder back, when the girl suddenly blurted out: + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, Harry is so restless. He is sleepy, he says." + +"I will be up instantly. Tell him that I will be up instantly." Then as +the girl disappeared, she added, with a quick smile: "You see I haven't +any toys for him. Not being a mother I forgot to put them in his +trunk." + +As though in response to these words the maid again showed herself in +the doorway. "Oh, Mrs. Carew," she eagerly exclaimed, "there's a little +toy in the hall here, brought over by one of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's maids. The +girl said that hearing that the little boy fretted, Mrs. Ocumpaugh had +picked out one of her little girl's playthings and sent it over with her +love. It's a little horse, ma'am, with curly mane and a long tail. I am +sure 'twill just please Master Harry." + +Mrs. Carew turned upon me a look brimming with feeling. + +"What thoughtfulness! What self-control!" she cried. "Take up the horse, +Dinah. It was one of Gwendolen's favorite playthings," she explained to +me as the girl vanished. + +I did not answer. I was hearing again in my mind that desolate cry of +"Philo! Philo! Philo!" which an hour or so before had rung down to me +from Mrs. Ocumpaugh's open window. There had been a wildness in the +tone, which spoke of a tossing head on a feverish pillow. Certainly an +irreconcilable picture with the one just suggested by Mrs. Carew of the +considerate friend sending out the toys of her lost one to a neighbor's +peevish child. + +Mrs. Carew appeared to notice the pre-occupation with which I lingered +on the lower step. + +"You like children," she hazarded. "Or have you interested yourself in +this matter purely from business reasons?" + +"Business reasons were sufficient," was my guarded reply. "But I like +children very much. I should be most happy if I could see this little +Harry of yours nearer. I have only seen him from a distance, you know." + +She drew back a step; then she met my look squarely in the moonlight. +Her face was flushed, but I attempted no apology for a presumption which +could have but one excuse. I meant that she should understand me if I +did not her. + +"You _must_ love children," she remarked, but not with her usual +correctness of tone. Then before I could attempt an answer to the +implied sarcasm a proud light came into her eyes, and with a gracious +bend of her fine figure she met my look with one equally as frank, and +cheerfully declared: + +"You shall. Come early in the morning." + +In another moment she had vanished inside and closed the door. I was +defeated for the nonce, or else she was all she appeared to be and I a +dreaming fool. + + + + +XIV + +ESPIONAGE + + +As I moved slowly away into the night the question thus raised in my own +mind assumed greater and more vital consequence. Was she a true woman or +what my fears pictured her--the scheming, unprincipled abductor of +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh? She looked true, sometimes acted so; but I had +heard and seen what would rouse any man's suspicions, and though I was +not in a position to say: "Mrs. Carew, this was not your first visit to +that scene of old tragedy. You have been there before, and with +Gwendolen in your arms," I was morally certain that this was so; that +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's most trusted friend was responsible for the +disappearance of her child, and I was not quite sure that the child was +not now under her very roof. + +It was very late by this time, but I meant, if possible, to settle some +of these doubts before I left the neighborhood of the cottage. + +How? By getting a glimpse of Mrs. Carew with her mask off; in the +company of the child, if I could compass it; if not, then entirely alone +with her own thoughts, plans and subtleties. + +It was an act more in line with my partner's talents than my own, but I +could not afford to let this deter me. I had had my chance with her, +face to face. For hours I had been in her company. I had seen her in +various stages of emotion, sometimes real and sometimes assumed, but at +no moment had I been sure of her, possibly because at no moment had she +been sure of me. In our first visit to the bungalow; in her own little +library, during the reading of that engrossing tale by which she had so +evidently attempted to lull my suspicions awakened by her one +irrepressible show of alarm on the scene of Gwendolen's disappearance, +and afterward when she saw that they might be so lulled but not +dispelled; in the cellar; and, above all, in that walled-off room where +we had come across the signs of Gwendolen's presence, which even she +could not disavow, she had felt my eyes upon her and made me conscious +that she had so felt them. Now she must believe them removed, and if I +could but gain the glimpse I speak of I should see this woman as she +was. + +I thought I could manage this. + +I had listened to the maid's steps as she returned up stairs, and I +believed I knew in what direction they had tended after she reached the +floor above. I would just see if one of the windows on the south side +was lighted, and, if so, if it was in any way accessible. + +To make my way through the shrubbery without rousing the attention of +any one inside or out required a circumspection that tried me greatly. +But by dint of strong self-control I succeeded in getting to the +vantage-place I sought, without attracting attention or causing a single +window to fly up. This reassured me, and perceiving a square of light in +the dark mass of wall before me I peered about among the trees +overlooking this part of the building for one I could climb without too +much difficulty. + +The one which looked most feasible was a maple with +low-growing-branches, and throwing off my coat I was soon half-way to +its top and on a level, or nearly so, with the window on which I had +fixed my eye. + +There were no curtains to this window--the house being half dismantled +in anticipation of Mrs. Carew's departure--but it was still protected by +a shade, and this was drawn down, nearly to the ledge. + +But not quite. A narrow space intervened which, to an eye placed where +mine was, offered a peep-hole of more or less satisfactory proportions, +and this space, I soon saw, widened perceptibly from time to time as the +wind caught at the shade and blew it in. + +With utmost caution I shifted my position till I could bring my eye +fairly in line with the interior of this room, and finding that the +glimpse given revealed little but a blue wall and some snowy linen, I +waited for the breeze to blow that I might see more. + +It came speedily, and in a gust which lifted the shade and thus +disclosed the whole inside of the room. It was an instantaneous glimpse, +but in that moment the picture projected upon my eye satisfied me that, +despite my doubts, despite my causes for suspicion, I had been doing +this woman the greatest injustice in supposing that her relations to +the child she had brought into her home were other than she had made +out. + +She had come up as she had promised, and had seated herself on the bed +with her face turned toward the window. I could thus catch its whole +expression--an expression this time involuntary and natural as the +feelings which prompted it. The child, with his newly-obtained toy +clutched in one hand, knelt on the coverlet with his head pressed +against her breast, saying his prayers. I could hear his soft murmur, +though I could not catch the words. + +But sweet as was the sight of his little white-clad form burying its +head, with its mass of dusky curls, against the breast in which he most +confided, it was not this alone which gave to the moment its almost +sacred character. It was the rapturous look with which Mrs. Carew gazed +down on this little head--the mother-look, which admits of nothing +false, and which when once seen on a woman's face, whether she be mother +in fact or mother only in heart--idealizes her in the mind for ever. + +Eloquent with love and holy devotion the scene flashed upon my eyes for +a moment and was gone. But that moment made its impression, and settled +for good and all the question with which I had started upon this +adventure. She _was_ the true woman and I was the dreaming fool. + +As I realized this I also realized that three days out of the seven were +gone. + + + + +XV + +A PHANTASM + + +I certainly had every right to conclude that this would end my +adventures for the day. But I soon found that I was destined to have yet +another experience before returning to my home in New York. + +The weather had changed during the last hour and at the moment I emerged +from the shadows of the hedge-row into the open space fronting the +Ocumpaugh dock, a gleam of lightning shot across the west and by it I +saw what looked like the dusky figure of a man leaning against a pile at +the extreme end of the boat-house. Something in the immobility +maintained by this figure in face of the quick flashes which from time +to time lit up the scene, reminded me of the presence I had come upon +hours before in front of Mrs. Carew's house; and moved by the instinct +of my calling, I took advantage of the few minutes yet remaining before +train time, to make my way in its direction, cautiously, of course, and +with due allowance for the possible illumination following those fitful +bursts of light which brought everything to view in one moment, only to +plunge it all back into the profoundest obscurity the next. + +I had two motives for my proceeding. One, as I say, sprang from the +natural instinct of investigation; the other was kindlier and less +personal. + +I did not understand the meaning of the posture which this person had +now assumed; nor did I like it. Why should this man--why should any man +stand like this at the dead of night staring into waters, which, if they +had their tale to tell, had not yet told it--unless his interest in the +story he read there was linked with emotions such as it was my business +to know? For those most openly concerned in Gwendolen's loss, the search +had ceased; why, then, this lone and lingering watch on the part of one +who might, for all I knew, be some over-zealous detective, but who I was +rather inclined to believe was a person much more closely concerned in +the child's fate, viz: the next heir-in-law, Mr. Rathbone. If it were +he, his presence there savored of mystery or it savored of the tragic. +The latter seemed the more likely hypothesis, judging from the +expression of his face, as seen by me under the lantern. It behooved me +then to approach him, but to approach him in the shadow of the +boat-house. + +What passed in the next few minutes seemed to me unreal and dreamlike. I +was tired, I suppose, and so more than usually susceptible. Night had no +unfamiliar effects for me, even night on the borders of this great +river; nor was my occupation a new one, or the expectation I felt, as +fearful and absorbing as that with which an hour or two before I had +raised my lantern in that room in which the doleful mystery of half a +century back, trenched upon the still more moving mystery of to-day. +Yet, that experience had the sharpness of fact; while this had only the +vagueness of a phantasm. + +I was very near him but the lightning had ceased to flash, and I found +it impossible to discern whether or not the form I had come there to +identify, yet lingered in its old position against the pile. + +I therefore awaited the next gleam with great anxiety, an anxiety only +partly alleviated by the certainty I felt of hearing the faint, scarcely +recognizable sound of his breathing. Had the storm passed over? Would no +more flashes come? Ah, he is moving--that is a sigh I hear--no +detective's exclamation of impatience, but a sufferer's sigh of +depression or remorse. What was in the man's mind? + +A steamboat or some equally brilliantly illuminated craft was passing, +far out in the channel; the shimmer of its lights gave sudden cheer to +the distant prospect; the churning of its paddles suggested life and +action and irresistibly drew my eyes that way. Would his follow? Would I +find his attitude changed? + +Ah! the long delayed flash has come and gone. He is standing there yet, +but no longer in an attitude of contemplation. On the contrary, he is +bending over the waters searching with eager aspect, where so many had +searched before him, and, in the instant, as his face and form leaped +into sight, I beheld his clenched right hand fall on his breast and +heard on his lips the one word-- + +"Guilty!" + + + + +XVI + +"AN ALL-CONQUERING BEAUTY" + + +I was one of the first to procure and read a New York paper next +morning. Would I discover in the columns any hint of the preceding day's +events in Yonkers, which, if known, must for ever upset the wagon +theory? No, that secret was still my secret, only shared by the doctor, +who, so far as I understood him, had no intention of breaking his +self-imposed silence till his fears of some disaster to the little one +had received confirmation. I had therefore several hours before me yet +for free work. + +The first thing I did was to hunt up Miss Graham. + +She met me with eagerness; an eagerness I found it difficult to dispel +with my disappointing news in regard to Doctor Pool. + +"He is not the man," said I. "Can you think of any other?" + +She shook her head, her large gray eyes showing astonishment and what I +felt bound to regard as an honest bewilderment. + +"I wish to mention a name," said I. + +"One I know?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"I know of no other person capable of wronging that child." + +"You are probably right. But there is a gentleman--one interested in the +family--a man with something to gain--" + +"Mr. Rathbone? You must not mention him in any such connection. He is +one of the best men I know--kind, good, and oh, so sensitive! A dozen +fortunes wouldn't tempt a man of his stamp to do any one living a wrong, +let alone a little innocent child." + +"I know; but there are other temptations greater than money to some men; +infinitely greater to one as sensitive as you say he is. What if he +loved a woman! What if his only hope of winning her--" + +"You must not think that of him," she again interposed. "Nothing could +make a villain of _him_. I have seen him too many times in circumstances +which show a man's character. He is good through and through, and in all +that concerns Gwendolen, honorable to the core. I once saw him save her +life at the risk of his own." + +"You did? When? Years ago?" + +"No, lately; within the last year." + +"Tell me the circumstances." + +She did. They were convincing. As I listened, the phantasm of the night +before assumed fainter and fainter proportions. When she had finished I +warmly remarked that I was glad to hear the story of so heroic an act. + +And I was. Not that I ascribed too deep a significance to the word which +had escaped Mr. Rathbone on the dock, but because I was glad to have my +instinctive confidence in the man verified by facts. + +It seemed to clear the way before me. + +"Ellie," said I (it seemed both natural and proper to call her by that +name now), "what explanation would you give if, under any circumstances +(all circumstances are possible, you know), you heard this gentleman +speak of feeling guilty in connection with Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +"I should have to know the circumstances," was her quiet answer. + +"Let me imagine some. Say that it was night, late night, at an hour when +the most hardened amongst us are in a peculiarly responsive condition; +say that he had been spending hours near the house of the woman he had +long loved but had quite despaired of winning in his greatly hampered +condition, and with the fever of this longing upon him, but restrained +by emotions the nature of which we can not surmise, had now found his +way down to the river--to the spot where boats have clustered and men +crouched in the gruesome and unavailing search we know of; say that he +hung there long over the water, gazing down in silence, in solitude, +alone, as he thought, with his own conscience and the suggestions +offered by that running stream where some still think, despite facts, +despite all the probabilities, that Gwendolen has found rest, and when +his heart was full, should be seen to strike his breast and utter, with +a quick turn of his face up the hill, this one word, 'Guilty'?" + +"What would I think? This: That being overwrought by the struggle you +mention (a struggle we can possibly understand when we consider the +unavoidable consciousness which must be his of the great change which +would be effected in all his prospects if Gwendolen should not be +found), he gave the name of guilt to feelings which some would call +simply human." + +"Ellie, you are an oracle." This thought of hers had been my thought +ever since I had had time really to reflect upon the matter. "I wonder +if you will have an equally wise reply to give to my next question?" + +"I can not say. I speak from intuition; I am not really wise." + +"Intuition is above wisdom. Does your intuition tell you that Mrs. Carew +is the true friend she professes to be to Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +"Ah, that is a different thing!" + +The clear brow I loved--there! how words escape a man!--lost its +smoothness and her eyes took on a troubled aspect, while her words came +slowly. + +"I do not know how to answer that offhand. Sometimes I have felt that +her very soul was knit to that of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and again I have had +my doubts. But never deep ones; never any such as would make it easy +for me to answer the question you have just put me." + +"Was her love for Gwendolen sincere?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes; oh, yes. That is, I always thought so, and with no +qualification, till something in her conduct when she first heard of +Gwendolen's disappearance--I can not describe it--gave me a sense of +disappointment. She was shocked, of course, and she was grieved, but not +hopelessly so. There was something lacking in her manner--we all felt +it; Mrs. Ocumpaugh felt it, and let her dear friend go the moment she +showed the slightest inclination to do so." + +"There were excuses for Mrs. Carew, just at that time," said I. "You +forget the new interest which had come into her life. It was natural +that she should be preoccupied." + +"With thoughts of her little nephew?" replied Miss Graham. "True, true; +but she had been so fond of Gwendolen! You would have thought-- But why +all this talk about Mrs. Carew? You don't believe--you surely can not +believe--" + +"That Mrs. Carew is a charming woman? Oh, yes, but I do. Mr. Rathbone +shows good taste." + +"Ah, is she the one?" + +"Did you not know it?" + +"No; yet I have seen them together many times. Now I understand much +that has always been a mystery to me. He never pressed his suit; he +loved, but never harassed her. Oh, he is a good man!" This with +emphasis. + +"Is she a good woman?" + +Miss Graham's eyes suddenly fell, then rose again until they met mine +fully and frankly. + +"I have no reason," said she, "to believe her otherwise. I have never +seen anything in her to hinder my esteem; only--" + +"Finish that 'only.'" + +"She does not appeal to me as many less gifted women do. Perhaps I am +secretly jealous of the extreme fondness Gwendolen has always shown for +her. If so, the fault is in me, not in her." + +What I said in reply is not germane to this story. + +After being assured by a few more discreet inquiries in some other +perfectly safe quarters that Miss Graham's opinion of Mr. Rathbone was +shared by those who best knew him, I returned to the one spot most +likely to afford me a clue to, if no explanation of, this elusive +mystery. + +What did I propose to myself? First, to revisit Mrs. Carew and make the +acquaintance of the boy Harry. I no longer doubted his being just what +she called him, but she had asked me to call for this purpose and I had +no excuse for declining the invitation, even if I had desired to do so. +Afterward--but first let us finish with Mrs. Carew. + +As she entered her reception-room that morning she looked so +bright--that is, with the instinctive brightness of a naturally +vivacious temperament--that I wondered if I had been mistaken in my +thought that she had had no sleep all that night, simply because many of +the lights in her house had not been put out till morning. But an +inspection of her face revealed lines of care, which only her smile +could efface, and she was not quite ready for smiles, affable and +gracious as she showed herself. + +Her first words, just as I expected, were: + +"There is nothing in the papers about the child in the wagon." + +"No; everything does not get into the papers." + +"Will what we saw and what we found in the bungalow last night?" + +"I hardly think so. That is our own special clue, Mrs. Carew--if it is a +clue." + +"You seem to regard it as such." + +With a shrug I declared that we had come upon a mystery of some kind. + +"But the child is not dead? That you feel demonstrated--or don't you?" + +"As I said last night, I do not know what to think. Ah; is that the +little boy?" + +"Yes," she gaily responded, as the glad step of a child was heard +descending the stairs. "Harry! come here, Harry!" she cried, with that +joyous accent which a child's presence seems to call out in some women. +"Here is a gentleman who would like to shake hands with you." + +A sprite of a child entered; a perfect sunbeam irradiating the whole +room. If, under the confidence induced by the vision I had had of him on +his knees the night before, any suspicion remained in my mind of his +being Gwendolen Ocumpaugh in disguise, it vanished at sight of the +fearless head, lifted high in boyish freedom, and the gay swish, swish +of the whip in his nervous little hand. + +"Harry is playing horse," he cried, galloping toward me in what he +evidently considered true jockey style. + +I made a gesture and stopped him. + +"How do you do, little man? What did you say your name is?" + +"Harry," this very stoutly. + +"Harry what? Harry Carew?" + +"No, Harry; just Harry." + +"And how do you like it here?" + +"I like it; I like it better than my old home." + +"Where was your old home?" + +"I don't know. I didn't like it." + +"He was with uncongenial people, and he is very sensitive," put in Mrs. +Carew, softly. + +"I like it here," he repeated, "and I like the big ocean. I am going on +the ocean. And I like horses. Get up, Dandy!" and he cracked his whip +and was off again on his imaginary trot. + +I felt very foolish over the doubts I had so openly evinced. This was +not only a boy to the marrow of his bones, but he was, as any eye could +see, the near relative she called him. In my embarrassment I rose; at +all events I soon found myself standing near the door with Mrs. Carew. + +"A fine fellow!" I enthusiastically exclaimed; "and startlingly like you +in expression. He is your nephew, I believe?" + +"Yes," she replied, somewhat wistfully I thought. + +I felt that I should apologize for--well, perhaps for the change she +must have discerned in my manner. + +"The likeness caused me a shock. I was not prepared for it, I suppose." + +She looked at me quite wonderingly. + +"I have never heard any one speak of it before. I am glad that you see +it." And she seemed glad, very glad. + +But I know that for some reason she was gladder yet when I turned to +depart. However, she did not hasten me. + +"What are you going to do next?" she inquired, as she courteously led +the way through the piles of heaped-up boxes and baskets, the number of +which had rather grown than diminished since my visit the evening +before. "Pardon my asking." + +"Resort to my last means," said I. "See and talk with Mrs. Ocumpaugh." + +An instant of hesitation on her part, so short, however, that I could +hardly detect it, then she declared: + +"But you can not do that." + +"Why not?" + +"She is ill; I am sure that they will let no one approach her. One of +her maids was in this morning. She did not even ask me to come over." + +"I am sorry," said I, "but I shall make the effort. The illness which +affects Mrs. Ocumpaugh can be best cured by the restoration of her +child." + +"But you have not found Gwendolen?" she replied. + +"No; but I have discovered footprints on the dust of the bungalow floor, +and, as you know, a bit of candy which looks as if it had been crushed +in a sleeping child's hand, and I am in need of every aid possible in +order to make the most of these discoveries. They may point the way to +Gwendolen's present whereabouts and they may not. But they shall be +given every chance." + +"Whoop! get up! get up!" broke in a childish voice from the upper +landing. + +"Am I not right?" I asked. + +"Always; only I am sorry for Mrs. Ocumpaugh. May I tell you--" as I laid +my hand upon the outer door-knob--"just how to approach her?" + +"Certainly, if you will be so good." + +"I would not ask for Miss Porter. Ask for Celia; she is Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +special maid. Let her carry your message--if you feel that it will do +any good to disturb her." + +"Thank you; the recommendation is valuable. Good morning, Mrs. Carew. I +may not see you again; may I wish you a safe journey?" + +"Certainly; are we not almost friends?" + +Why did I not make my bow and go? There was nothing more to be said--at +least by me. Was I held by something in her manner? Doubtless, for while +I was thus reasoning with myself she followed me out on to the porch, +and with some remark as to the beauty of the morning, led me to an +opening in the vines, whence a fine view could be caught of the river. + +But it was not for the view she had brought me there. This was evident +enough from her manner, and soon she paused in her observations on the +beauties of nature, and with a strange ringing emphasis for which I was +not altogether prepared, remarked with feeling: + +"I may be making a mistake--I was always an unconventional woman--but I +think you ought to know something of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's private history +before you see her. It is not a common one--at least it has its romantic +elements--and an acquaintance with some of its features is almost +necessary to you if you expect to approach her on so delicate a matter +with any hope of success. But perhaps you are better informed on this +subject than I supposed? Detectives are a mine of secret intelligence, I +am told; possibly you have already learned from some other source the +story of her marriage and homecoming to Homewood and the peculiar +circumstances of her early married life?" + +"No," I disclaimed in great relief, and I have no doubt with unnecessary +vivacity. "On the contrary, I have never heard anything said in regard +to it." + +"Would you like to? Men have not the curiosity of women, and I do not +wish to bore you, but--I see that I shall not do that," she exclaimed. +"Sit down, Mr. Trevitt; I shall not detain you long; I have not much +time myself." + +As she sank into a chair in saying this, I had no alternative but to +follow her example. I took pains, however, to choose one which brought +me into the shadow of the vines, for I felt some embarrassment at this +new turn in the conversation, and was conscious that I should have more +or less difficulty in hiding my only too intense interest in all that +concerned the lady of whom we were speaking. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh was a western woman," Mrs. Carew began softly; "the +oldest of five daughters. There was not much money in the family, but +she had beauty, a commanding, all-conquering beauty; not the beauty you +see in her to-day, but that exquisite, persuasive loveliness which +seizes upon the imagination as well as moves the heart. I have a picture +of her at eighteen--but never mind that." + +Was it affection for her friend which made Mrs. Carew's always rich +voice so very mellow? I wished I knew; but I was successful, I think, in +keeping that wish out of my face, and preserving my manner of the simply +polite listener. + +"Mr. Ocumpaugh was on a hunting trip," she proceeded, after a slight +glance my way. "He had traveled the world over and seen beautiful women +everywhere; but there was something in Marion Allison which he had found +in no other, and at the end of their first interview he determined to +make her his wife. A man of impulses, but also a man of steady +resolution, Mr. Trevitt. Perhaps you know this?" + +I bowed. "A strong man," I remarked. + +"And a romantic one. He had this intention from the first, as I have +said, but he wished to make himself sure of her heart. He knew how his +advantages counted; how hard it is for a woman to disassociate the man +from his belongings, and having a spirit of some daring, he resolved +that this 'pearl of the west'--so I have heard him call her--should +marry the man and not his money." + +"Was he as wealthy then as now?" + +"Almost. Possibly he was not quite such a power in the financial world, +but he had Homewood in almost as beautiful a condition as now, though +the new house was not put up till after his marriage. He courted +her--not as the landscape painter of Tennyson's poem--but as a rising +young business man who had made his way sufficiently to give her a good +home. This home he did not have to describe, since her own imagination +immediately pictured it as much below the one she lived in, as he was +years younger than her hard-worked father. Delighted with this naïveté, +he took pains not to disabuse her mind of the simple prospects with +which she was evidently so well satisfied, and succeeded in marrying her +and bringing her as far as our station below there, without her having +the least suspicion of the splendor she was destined for. And now, Mr. +Trevitt, picture, if you can, the scene of that first arrival. I have +heard it described by him and I have heard it described by her. He was +dressed plainly; so was she; and lest the surprise should come before +the proper moment, he had brought her on a train little patronized by +his friends. The sumptuousness of the solitary equipage standing at the +depot platform must, in consequence, have struck her all the more +forcibly, and when he turned and asked her if she did not admire this +fine turn-out, you can imagine the lovely smile with which she +acknowledged its splendor and then turned away to look up and down for +the street-car she expected to take with him to their bridal home. + +"He says that he caught her back with the remark that he was glad she +liked it because it was hers and many more like it. But she insists that +he did not say a word, only smiled in a way to make her see for whom the +carriage door was being held open. Such was her entrance into wealth and +love and alas! into trouble. For the latter followed hard upon the two +first. Mr. Ocumpaugh's mother, who had held sway at Homewood for thirty +years or more, was hard as the nether millstone. She was a Rathbone and +had brought both wealth and aristocratic connections into the family. +She had no sympathy for penniless beauties (she was a very plain woman +herself) and made those first few years of her daughter-in-law's life +as nearly miserable as any woman's can be who adores her husband. I have +heard that it was a common experience for this sharp-tongued old lady to +taunt her with the fact that she brought nothing into the family but +herself--not even a _towel_; and when two years passed and no child +came, the biting criticisms became so frequent that a cloud fell over +the young wife's sensitive beauty, which no after happiness has ever +succeeded in fully dispelling. Matters went better after Gwendolen came, +but in reckoning up the possible defects in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's character +you should never forget the twist that may have been given to it by that +mother-in-law." + +"I have heard of Madam Ocumpaugh," I remarked, rising, anxious to end an +interview whose purport was more or less enigmatic to me. + +"She is dead now--happily. A woman like that is accountable for much +more than she herself ever realizes. But one thing she never succeeded +in doing: she never shook Mr. Ocumpaugh's love for his wife or hers for +him. Whether it was the result of that early romantic episode of which I +have spoken, or whether their natures are peculiarly congenial, the +bond between them has been one of exceptional strength and purity." + +"It will be their comfort now," I remarked. + +Mrs. Carew smiled, but in a dubious way that added to my perplexity and +made me question more seriously than ever just what her motive had been +in subjecting me to these very intimate reminiscences of one I was about +to approach on an errand of whose purport she could have only a general +idea. + +Had she read my inmost soul? Did she wish to save her friend, or save +herself, or even to save me from the result of a blind use of such tools +as were the only ones afforded me? Impossible to determine. She was at +this present moment, as she had always been, in fact, an unsolvable +problem to me, and it was not at this hurried time and with such serious +work before me that I could venture to make any attempt to understand +her. + +"You will let me know the outcome of your talk with Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" she +cried, as I moved to the front of the porch. + +It was for me to look dubious now. I could make no such promise as +that. + +"I will let you know the instant there is any good news," I assured her. + +And with that I moved off, but not before hearing the peremptory command +with which she entered the house: + +"Now, Dinah, quick!" + +Evidently, her preparations for departure were to be pushed. + + + + +XVII + +IN THE GREEN BOUDOIR + + +So far in this narrative I have kept from the reader nothing but an old +experience of which I was now to make use. This experience involved Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, and was the cause of the confidence which I had felt from the +first in my ability to carry this search through to a successful +termination. I believed that in some secret but as yet undiscovered way, +it offered a key to this tragedy. And I still believed this, little as I +had hitherto accomplished and blind as the way continued to look before +me. + +Nevertheless, it was with anything but a cheerful heart that I advanced +that morning through the shrubbery toward the Ocumpaugh mansion. + +I dreaded the interview I had determined to seek. I was young, far too +young, to grapple with the difficulties it involved; yet I saw no way of +avoiding it, or of saving either Mrs. Ocumpaugh or myself from the +suffering it involved. + +Mrs. Carew had advised that I should first see the girl called Celia. +But Mrs. Carew knew nothing of the real situation. I did not wish to see +any girl. I felt that no such intermediary would answer in a case like +this. Nor did I choose to trust Miss Porter. Yet to Miss Porter alone +could I appeal. + +The sight of a doctor's gig standing at the side door gave me my first +shock. Mrs. Ocumpaugh was ill, then, really ill. Yet if I came to make +her better? I stood irresolute till I saw the doctor come out; then I +walked boldly up and asked for Miss Porter. + +Just what Mrs. Carew had advised me not to do. + +Miss Porter came. She recognized me, but only to express her sorrow that +Mrs. Ocumpaugh was totally unfit to see any one to-day. + +"Not if he brings news?" + +"News?" + +"I have news, but of a delicate nature. I should like the privilege of +imparting the same to Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself." + +"Impossible." + +"Excuse me, if I urge it." + +"She can not see you. The doctor who has just gone says that at all +hazards she must be kept quiet to-day. Won't Mr. Atwater do? Is it--is +it good news?" + +"That, Mrs. Ocumpaugh alone can say." + +"See Mr. Atwater; I will call him." + +"I have nothing to say to _him_." + +"But--" + +"Let me advise you. Leave it to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Take this paper up to +her--it is only a sketch--and inform her that the person who drew it has +something of importance to say either to her or to Mr. Atwater, and let +her decide which it shall be. You may, if you wish, mention my name." + +"I do not understand." + +"You hold my credentials," I said and smiled. + +She glanced at the paper I had placed in her hand. It was a folded one, +fastened something like an envelope. + +"I can not conceive,--" she began. + +I did not scruple to interrupt her. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh has a right to the privilege of seeing what I have +sketched there," I said with what impressiveness I could, though my +heart was heavy with doubt. "Will you believe that what I ask is for the +best and take this envelope to her? It may mean the ultimate restoration +of her child." + +"This paper?" + +"Yes, Miss Porter." + +She did not try to hide her incredulity. + +"I do not see how a picture--yet you seem very much in earnest--and I +know she has confidence in you, she and Mr. Ocumpaugh, too. I will take +it to her if you can assure me that good will come of it and no more +false hopes to destroy the little courage she has left." + +"I can not promise that. I believe that she will wish to receive me and +hear all I have to say after seeing what that envelope contains. That is +as far as I can honestly go." + +"It does not satisfy me. If it were not for the nearness of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's return, I would have nothing to do with it. He must hear at +Sandy Hook that some definite news has been received of his child." + +"You are right, Miss Porter, he must." + +"He idolized Gwendolen. He is a man of strong feelings; very passionate +and much given to follow the impulse of the moment. If his suspense is +not ended at the earliest possible instant, the results may be such as I +dare not contemplate." + +"I know it; that is why I have pushed matters to this point. You will +carry that up to her?" + +"Yes; and if--" + +"No ifs. Lay it before her where she sits and come away. But not beyond +call. You are a good woman--I see it in your face--do not watch her as +she unfolds this paper. Persons of her temperament do not like to have +their emotions observed, and this will cause her emotion. That can not +be helped, Miss Porter. Sincerely and honestly I tell you that it is +impossible for her best friends to keep her from suffering now; they can +only strive to keep that suffering from becoming permanent." + +"It is a hard task you have set me," complained the poor woman; "but I +will do what I can. Anything must be better for Mrs. Ocumpaugh than the +suspense she is now laboring under." + +"Remember," I enjoined, with the full force of my secret anxiety, "that +no eye but hers must fall upon this drawing. Not that it would convey +meaning to anybody but herself, but because it is her affair and her +affair only, and you are the woman to respect another person's affairs." + +She gave me a final scrutinizing look and left the room. + +"God grant that I have made no mistake!" was the inward prayer with +which I saw her depart. + +My fervency was sincere. I was myself frightened at what I had done. + +And what had I done? Sent her a sketch drawn by myself of Doctor Pool +and of his office. If it recalled to her, as I felt it must, the +remembrance of a certain memorable visit she had once paid there, she +would receive me. + +When Miss Porter reëntered some fifteen minutes later, I saw that my +hazardous attempt had been successful. + +"Come," said she; but with no cheerful alacrity, rather with an air of +gloom. + +"Was--was Mrs. Ocumpaugh very much disturbed by what she saw?" + +"I fear so. She was half-asleep when I went in, dreaming as it seemed, +and pleasantly. It was cruel to disturb her; indeed I had not the heart, +so I just laid the folded paper near her hand and waited, but not too +near, not within sight of her face. A few minutes later--interminable +minutes to me--I heard the paper rattle, but I did not move. I was where +she could see me, so she knew that she was not alone and presently I +caught the sound of a strange noise from her lips, then a low cry, then +the quick inquiry in sharper and more peremptory tones than I had ever +before heard from her, 'Where did this come from? Who has dared to send +me this?' I advanced quickly. I told her about you and your desire to +see her; how you had asked me to bring her up this little sketch so that +she would know that you had real business with her; that I regretted +troubling her when she felt so weak, but that you promised revelations +or some such thing--at which I thought she grew very pale. Are you quite +convinced that you have news of sufficient importance to warrant the +expectations you have raised in her?" + +"Let me see her," I prayed. + +She made a sign and we both left the room. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh awaited me in her own boudoir on the second floor. As we +went up the main staircase I was afforded short glimpses of room after +room of varying richness and beauty, among them, one so dainty and +delicate in its coloring that I presumed to ask if it were that of the +missing child. + +Miss Porter's look as she shook her head roused my curiosity. + +"I should be glad to see her room," I said. + +She stopped, seemed to consider the matter for a moment, then advanced +quickly and, beckoning me to follow, led me to a certain door which she +quietly opened. One look, and my astonishment became apparent. The room +before me, while large and sunny, was as simple, I had almost said as +bare, as my sister's at home. No luxurious furnishings here, no +draperies of silk and damask, no half-lights drawing richness from +stained glass, no gleam of silver or sparkle of glass on bedecked +dresser or carved mantel. Not even the tinted muslins I had seen in some +nurseries; but a plain set of furniture on a plain carpet with but one +object of real adornment within the four walls. That was a picture of +the Madonna opposite the bed, and that was beautiful. But the frame was +of the cheapest--a simple band of oak. + +Catching Miss Porter's eye as we quietly withdrew, I ventured to ask +whose taste this was. + +The answer was short and had a decided ring of disapproval in it. + +"Her mother's. Mrs. Ocumpaugh believes in simple surroundings for +children." + +"Yet she dressed Gwendolen like a princess." + +"Yes, for the world's eye. But in her own room she wore gingham aprons +which effectually covered up her ribbons and laces." + +The motive for all this was in a way evident to me, but somehow what I +had just seen did not add to my courage for the coming interview. + +We stopped at the remotest door of this long hall. As Miss Porter opened +it I summoned up all my nerve, and the next moment found myself standing +in the presence of the imposing figure of Mrs. Ocumpaugh drawn up in the +embrasure of a large window overlooking the Hudson. It was the same +window, doubtless, in which she had stood for two nights and a day +watching for some sign from the boats engaged in dragging the river-bed. +Her back was to me and she seemed to find it difficult to break away +from her fixed attitude; for several minutes elapsed before she turned +slowly about and showed me her face. + +When she did, I stood appalled. Not a vestige of color was to be seen on +cheek, lip or brow. She was the beautiful Mrs. Ocumpaugh still, but the +heart which had sent the hues of life to her features, was beating +slow--slow--and the effect was heartbreaking to one who had seen her in +her prime and the full glory of her beauty as wife and mother. + +"Pardon," I faltered out, bowing my head as if before some powerful +rebuke, though her lips were silent and her eyes pleading rather than +accusing. Truly, I had ventured far in daring to recall to this woman an +hour which at this miserable time she probably would give her very life +to forget. "Pardon," I repeated, with even a more humble intonation than +before, for she did not speak and I hardly knew how to begin the +conversation. Still she said nothing, and at last I found myself forced +to break the unbearable silence by some definite remark. + +"I have presumed," I therefore continued, advancing but a step toward +her who made no advance at all, "to send you a hurried sketch of one who +says he knows you, that you might be sure I was not one of the many +eager but irresponsible men who offer help in your great trouble without +understanding your history or that of the little one to whose seemingly +unaccountable disappearance all are seeking a clue." + +"My history!" + +The words seemed forced from her, but no change in eye or look +accompanied them; nor could I catch a motion of her lips when she +presently added in a far-away tone inexpressibly affecting, "_Her_ +history! Did he bid you say that?" + +"Doctor Pool? He has given me no commands other than to find the child. +I am not here as an agent of his. I am here in Mr. Ocumpaugh's interest +and your own; with some knowledge--a little more knowledge than others +have perhaps--to aid me in the business of recovering this child. Madam, +the police are seeking her in the holes and slums of the great city and +at the hands of desperate characters who make a living out of the +terrors and griefs of the rich. But this is not where I should look for +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh. I should look nearer, just as you have looked +nearer; and I should use means which I am sure have not commended +themselves to the police. These means you can doubtless put in my hands. +A mother knows many things in connection with her child which she +neither thinks to impart nor would, under any ordinary circumstances, +give up, especially to a stranger. I am not a stranger; you have seen me +in Mr. Ocumpaugh's confidence; will you then pardon me if I ask what may +strike you as impertinent questions, but which may lead to the discovery +of the motive if not to the method of the little one's abduction?" + +"I do not understand--" She was trying to shake off her apathy. "I feel +confused, sick, almost like one dying. How can I help? Haven't I done +everything? I believe that she strayed to the river and was drowned. I +still believe her dead. Otherwise we should have news--real news--and we +don't, we don't." + +The intensity with which she uttered the last two words brought a line +of red into her gasping lips. She was becoming human, and for a minute I +could not help drawing a comparison between her and her friend Mrs. +Carew as the latter had just appeared to me in her little half-denuded +house on the other side of the hedge-row. Both beautiful, but owing +their charms to quite different sources, I surveyed this woman, white +against the pale green of the curtain before which she stood, and +imperceptibly but surely the glowing attractions of the gay-hearted +widow who had found a child to love, faded before the cold loveliness of +this bereaved mother, wan with suffering and alive with terrors of whose +depth I could judge from the clutch with which she still held my little +sketch. + +Meanwhile I had attempted some kind of answer to Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +heart-rending appeal. + +"We do not hear because she was not taken from you simply for the money +her return would bring. Indeed, after hours of action and considerable +thinking, I am beginning to doubt if she was taken for money at all. Can +you not think of some other motive? Do you not know of some one who +wanted the child from--_love_, let us say?" + +"Love?" + +Did her lips frame it, or did I see it in her eyes? Certainly I heard no +sound, yet I was conscious that she repeated the word in her mind, if +not aloud. + +"I know I have startled you," I pursued. "But, pardon me--I can not help +my presumption--I must be personal--I must even go so far as to probe +the wound I have made. You have a claim to Gwendolen not to be doubted, +not to be gainsaid. But isn't there some one else who is conscious of +possessing certain claims also? I do not allude to Mr. Ocumpaugh." + +"You mean--some relative--aunt--cousin--" She was fully human now, and +very keenly alert. "Mr. Rathbone, perhaps?" + +"No, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, none of these." Then as the paper rattled in her +hand and I saw her eyes fall in terror on it, I said as calmly and +respectfully as I could: "You have a secret, Mrs. Ocumpaugh; that secret +I share." + +The paper trembled from her clasp and fell fluttering downward. I +pointed at it and waited till our eyes met, possibly that I might give +her some encouragement from my look if not from my words. + +"I was a boy in Doctor Pool's employ some five years ago, and one day--" + +I paused; she had made me a supplicating gesture. + +"Shall I not go on?" I finally asked. + +"Give me a minute," was her low entreaty. "O God! O God! that I should +have thought myself secure all these years, with two in the world +knowing my fatal secret!" + +"I learned it by accident," I went on, when I saw her eye turn again on +mine. "On a certain night six years ago, I was in the office behind an +old curtain--you remember the curtain hanging at the left of the +doctor's table over that break in the book-shelves. I had no business +there. I had been meddling with things which did not belong to me and, +when I heard the doctor's step at the door, was glad to shrink into this +refuge and wait for an opportunity to escape. It did not come very soon. +First he had one patient, then another. The last one was you; I heard +your name and caught a glimpse of your face as you went out. It was a +very interesting story you told him--I was touched by it though I +hardly understood." + +"Oh! oh!" + +She was swaying from side to side, swaying so heavily that I +instinctively pushed forward a chair. + +"Sit," I prayed. "You are not strong enough for this excitement." + +She glanced at me vaguely, shook her head, but made no move toward +accepting the proffered chair. She submitted, however, when I continued +to press it upon her; and I felt less a brute and hard-hearted monster +when I saw her sitting with folded hands before me. + +"I bring this up," said I, "that you may understand what I mean when I +say that some one else--another woman, in fact, may feel her claim upon +this child greater than yours." + +"You mean the real mother. Is she known? The doctor swore--" + +"I do not know the real mother. I only know that you are not; that to +win some toleration from your mother-in-law, to make sure of your +husband's lasting love, you won the doctor over to a deception which +secured a seeming heir to the Ocumpaughs. Whose child was given you, is +doubtless known to you--" + +"No, no." + +I stared, aghast. + +"What! You do not know?" + +"No, I did not wish to. Nor was she ever to know me or my name." + +"Then this hope has also failed. I thought that in this mother, we might +find the child's abductor." + + + + +XVIII + +"YOU LOOK AS IF--AS IF--" + + +I had studiously avoided looking at her while these last few words +passed between us, but as the silence which followed this final outburst +continued, I felt forced to glance her way if only to see what my next +move should be. I found her gazing straight at me with a bright spot on +either cheek, looking as if seared there by a red-hot iron. + +"You are a detective," she said, as our regards met. "You have known +this shameful secret always, yet have met my husband constantly and have +never told." + +"No, I saw no reason." + +"Did you never, when you saw how completely my husband was deceived, how +fortunes were bequeathed to Gwendolen, gifts lavished on her, her small +self made almost an idol of, because all our friends, all our relatives +saw in her a true Ocumpaugh, think it wicked to hold your peace and let +this all go on as if she were the actual offspring of my husband and +myself?" + +"No; I may have wondered at your happiness; I may have thought of the +consequences if ever he found out, but--" + +I dared not go on; the quick, the agonizing nerve of her grief and +suffering had been touched and I myself quailed at the result. +Stammering some excuse, I waited for her soundless anguish to subside; +then, when I thought she could listen, completed my sentence by saying: + +"I did not allow my thoughts to stray quite so far, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Not +till my knowledge of your secret promised to be of use did I let it rise +to any proportion in my mind. I had too much sympathy for your +difficulties; I have to-day." + +This hint of comfort, perhaps from the only source which could afford +her any, seemed to move her. + +"Do you mean that you are my friend?" she cried. "That you would help +me, if any help were possible, to keep my secret and--my husband's +love?" + +I did not know how to dash the first spark of hope I had seen in her +from the beginning of this more than painful interview. To avoid it, I +temporized a trifle and answered with ready earnestness: + +"I would do much, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, to make the consequences of your act +as ineffective as possible and still be true to the interests of Mr. +Ocumpaugh. If the child can be found--you wish that? You loved her?" + +"O yes, I loved her." There was no mistaking the wistfulness of her +tone. "Too well, far too well; only my husband more." + +"If you can find her--that is the first thing, isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +It was a faint rejoinder. I looked at her again. + +"_You do not wish her found_," I suddenly declared. + +She started, rose to her feet, then suddenly sat again as if she felt +that she could not stand. + +"What makes you say that? How dare you? how can you say that? My husband +loves her, I love her--she is our own child, if not by birth, by every +tie which endears a child to a parent. Has that wicked man--" + +"Doctor Pool!" I put in, for she stopped, gasping. + +"Yes; Doctor Pool, whom I wish to God I had never seen--has he told you +any such lies as that? the man who swore--" + +I put out my hand to calm her. I feared for her reason if not for her +life. + +"Be careful," I enjoined. "Your walls are thick but tones like yours are +penetrating." Then as I saw she would be answered, I replied to the +question still alive in her face: "No; Doctor Pool has not talked of +you. I saw it in your own manner, madam; it or something else. Perhaps +it was something else--another secret which I have not shared." + +She moistened her lips and, placing her two hands on the knobs of the +chair in which she sat, leaned passionately forward. Who could say she +was cold now? Who could see anything but a feeling heart in this woman, +beautiful beyond all precedent in her passion and her woe? + +"It is--it was--a secret. I have to confess to the abnormal. The child +did not love me; has never loved me. Lavish as I have been in my +affection and caresses, she has never done aught but endure them. +Though she believes me her own mother, she has shrunk from me with all +the might of her nature from the very first. It was God's punishment for +the lie by which I strove to make my husband believe himself the father +which in God's providence he was not. I have borne it; but my life has +been a living hell. It was that you saw in my face--nothing else." + +I was bound to believe her. The child had made her suffer, but she was +bent upon recovering her--of course. I dared not contemplate any other +alternative. Her love for her husband precluded any other desire on her +part. And so I admitted, when after a momentary survey of the task yet +before me, I ventured to remark: + +"Then we find ourselves once more at the point from which we started. +Where shall we look for his child? Mrs. Ocumpaugh, perhaps it would aid +us in deciding this question if you told me, sincerely told me, why you +had such strong belief in Gwendolen's having been drowned in the river. +You did believe this--I saw you at the window. You are not an actress +like your friend--you expected to see her body drawn from those waters. +For twenty-four hours you expected it, though every one told you it was +impossible. Why?" + +She crept a step nearer to me, her tones growing low and husky. + +"Don't you see? I--I--thought that to escape me, she might have leaped +into the water. She was capable of it. Gwendolen had a strong nature. +The struggle between duty and repulsion made havoc even in her infantile +breast. Besides, we had had a scene that morning--a secret scene in +which she showed absolute terror of me. It broke my heart, and when she +disappeared in that mysterious way--and--and--one of her shoes was found +on the slope, what was I to think but that she had chosen to end her +misery--this child! this babe I had loved as my own flesh and blood!--in +the river where she had been forbidden to go?" + +"Suicide by a child of six! You gave another reason for your persistent +belief, at the time, Mrs. Ocumpaugh." + +"Was I to give this one?" + +"No; no one could expect you to do that, even if there had been no +secret to preserve and the child had been your own. But the child did +not go to the river. You are convinced of that now, are you not?" + +"Yes." + +"Where then did she go? Or rather, to what place was she taken? +Somewhere near; somewhere within easy reach, for the alarm soon rose and +then she could not be found. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I am going to ask you an +apparently trivial and inconsequent question. Was Gwendolen very fond of +sweets?" + +"Yes." + +She was sitting upright now, staring me in the face in unconcealed +astonishment and a little fear. + +"What sort of candy--pardon me if I seem impertinent--had you in your +house on the Wednesday the child disappeared? Any which she could have +got at or the nurse given her?" + +"There were the confections brought by the caterer; none other that I +know of; I did not indulge her much in sweets." + +"Was there anything peculiar about these confections either in taste or +appearance?" + +"I didn't taste them. In appearance they were mostly round and red, with +a brandied cherry inside. Why, sir, why do you ask? What have these +miserable lumps of sugar to do with Gwendolen?" + +"Madam, do you recognize this?" + +I took from my pocket the crushed mass of colored sugar and fruit I had +picked up from the musty cushions of the old sofa in the walled-up room +of the bungalow. + +She took it and looked up, staring. + +"It is one of them," she cried. "Where did you get it? You look as +if--as if--" + +"I had come upon a clue to Gwendolen? Madam, I believe I have. This +candy has been held in a hot little hand. Miss Graham or one of the +girls must have given it to her as she ran through the dining-room or +across the side veranda on her way to the bungalow. She did not eat it +offhand; she evidently fell asleep before eating it, but she clutched it +very tight, only dropping it, I judge, when her muscles were quite +relaxed by sleep; and then not far; the folds of her dress caught it, +for--" + +"What are you telling me?" The interruption was sudden, imperative. "I +saw Gwendolen asleep; she held a string in her hand but no candy, and if +she did--" + +"Did you examine both hands, madam? Think! Great issues hang on a right +settlement of this fact. Can you declare that she did not have this +candy in one of her little hands?" + +"No, I can not declare that." + +"Then I shall always believe she did, and this same sweetmeat, this +morsel from the table set for your guests on the afternoon of the +sixteenth of this month, I found last night in the disused portion of +the bungalow walled up by Mr. Ocumpaugh's father, but made accessible +since by an opening let into the floor from the cellar. This latter I +was enabled to reach by means of a trap-door concealed under the rug in +the open part of this same building." + +"I--I am all confused. Say that again," she pleaded, starting once more +to her feet, but this time without meeting my eyes. "In the disused part +of the bungalow? How came you there? No one ever goes there--it is a +forbidden place." + +"The child has been there--and lately." + +"Oh!" her fingers began to tremble and twist themselves together. "You +have something more than this to tell me. Gwendolen has been found +and--" her looks became uncertain and wandered, as I thought, toward the +river. + +"She has not been found, but the woman who carried her into that place +will soon be discovered." + +"How? Why?" + +I had risen by this time and could answer her on a level and face to +face. + +"Because the trail of her steps leads straight along the cellar floor. +We have but to measure these footprints." + +"And what?--what?" + +"We find the abductor." + +A silence, during which one long breath issued from her lips. + +"Was it a man's or woman's steps?" she finally asked. + +"A woman's, daintily shod; a woman of about the size of--" + +"Who? Why do you play with my anguish?" + +"Because I hate to mention the name of a friend." + +"Ah! What do you know of my friends?" + +"Not much. I happened to meet one of them, and as she is a very fine +woman with exquisitely shod feet, I naturally think of her." + +"What do you mean?" Her hand was on my arm, her face close to mine. +"Speak! speak! the name!" + +"Mrs. Carew." + +I had purposely refrained up to this moment from bringing this lady, +even by a hint, into the conversation. I did it now under an inner +protest. But I had not dared to leave it out. The footprints I alluded +to were startlingly like those left by her in other parts of the cellar +floor; besides, I felt it my duty to see how Mrs. Ocumpaugh bore this +name, notwithstanding my almost completely restored confidence in its +owner. + +She did not bear it well. She flushed and turned quickly from my side, +walking away to the window, where she again took up her stand. + +"You would have shown better taste by not following your first impulse," +she remarked. "Mrs. Carew's footsteps in that old cellar! You presume, +sir, and make me lose confidence in your judgment." + +"Not at all. Mrs. Carew's feet have been all over that cellar floor. She +accompanied me through it last night, at the time I found this crushed +bonbon." + +I could see that Mrs. Ocumpaugh was amazed, well-nigh confounded, but +her manner altered from that moment. + +"Tell me about it." + +And I did. I related the doubts I had felt concerning the completeness +of the police investigation as regarded the bungalow; my visit there at +night with Mrs. Carew, and the discoveries we had made. Then I alluded +again to the footprints and the important clue they offered. + +"But the child?" she interrupted "Where is the child? If taken there, +why wasn't she found there? Don't you see that your conclusions are all +wild--incredible? A dream? An impossibility?" + +"I go by the signs," I replied. "There seems to be nothing else to go +by." + +"And you want--you intend, to measure those steps?" + +"That is why I am here, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. To request permission to +continue this investigation and to ask for the key to the bungalow. +Mrs. Carew's is no longer available; or rather, I should prefer to +proceed without it." + +With sudden impulse she advanced rapidly toward me. + +"What is Mrs. Carew doing this morning?" she asked. + +"Preparing for departure. She is quite resolved to sail to-day. Do you +wish to see her? Do you wish her confirmation of my story? I think she +will come, if you send for her." + +"There is no need." This after an instant's hesitation. "I have perfect +confidence in Mrs. Carew; and in you too," she added, with what she +meant for a kind look. She was by nature without coquetry, and this +attempt to please, in the midst of an overwhelming distress absorbing +all her faculties, struck me as the most pitiful effort I had ever seen. +My feeling for her made it very hard for me to proceed. + +"Then I may go on?" I said. + +"Of course, of course. I don't know where the key is; I shall have to +give orders. You will wait a few minutes, somewhere in one of the +adjoining rooms, while I look up Mr. Atwater?" + +"Certainly." + +She was trembling, feverish, impatient. + +"Shall _I_ not look up Mr. Atwater for you?" I asked. + +"No. I am feeling better. I can go myself." + +In another moment she had left the room, having forgotten her own +suggestion that I should await her return in some adjoining apartment. + + + + +XIX + +FRENZY + + +Five minutes--ten minutes--elapsed and I became greatly impatient. I +walked the floor; I stared from the window; I did everything I could +think of to pass away these unendurable moments of suspense with +creditable self-possession. But I failed utterly. + +As the clock ticked off the quarter hour, and then the half, I grew not +only impatient but seriously alarmed, and flinging down the book I had +taken up as a last resort, stepped from the room, in the hope of coming +across some one in the hall whom I could interrogate. + +But the house seemed strangely quiet, and when I had walked the full +length of the hall without encountering either maid or mistress, I +summoned up courage to return to the room I had left and ring the bell. + +No answer, though I waited long for it. + +Thinking that I had not pressed the button hard enough, I made a second +attempt, but again there was no answer. + +Was anything amiss? Had she-- + +My thought did not complete itself. In sudden apprehension of I knew not +what, I dashed from the room and made my way down stairs without further +ceremony. + +The unnatural stillness which had attracted my attention above was +repeated on the floor below. No one in the rooms, no one in the +passages. + +Disturbed as I had not been yet by anything which had occurred in +connection with this harrowing affair, I leaped to the nearest door and +stepped out on the lawn. + +My first glance was toward the river. All was as usual there. With my +worst fears dispelled, but still a prey to doubts for which as yet I had +no name, I moved toward the kitchen windows, expecting of course to find +some one there who would explain the situation to me. But not a head +appeared at my call. The kitchen, too, was deserted. + +"This is not chance," I involuntarily exclaimed, and was turning toward +the stables when I perceived a child, the son of one of the gardeners, +crossing the lawn at a run, and hailing him, asked where everybody had +gone that the house seemed deserted. + +He looked back but kept on running, shouting as he did so: + +"I guess they're all down at the bungalow! I'm going there. Men are +digging up the cellar. Mrs. Ocumpaugh says she's afraid Miss Gwendolen's +body is buried there." + +Aghast and perhaps a trifle conscience-stricken, I stood stock-still in +the sunshine. So this was what I had done! Driven her to frenzy; roused +her imagination to such a point that she saw her darling--always her +darling even if another woman's child--lying under the clay across which +I had attempted simply to prove that she had been carried. Or--no! I +would not think that! A detective of my experience outwitted by this +stricken, half-dead woman whom I had trembled to see try to stand upon +her feet? Impossible! Yet the thought brought the blood to my cheek. + +Digging up the bungalow cellar! That meant destroying those footprints +before I had secured a single impression of the same. I should have +roused her curiosity only, not her terror. + +Now all might be lost unless I could arrive in time to--do what? Order +the work stopped? With what face could I do that with her standing by in +all the authority of motherhood--frenzied motherhood--seeking the +possible body of her child! My affair certainly looked dubious. Yet I +started for the bungalow like the rest, and on a run, too. Perhaps +Providence would favor me and some expedient suggest itself by which I +might still save the clue upon which so many hopes hung. + +The excitement which had now drawn every person on the place in the one +direction, was at its height as I burst through the thicket into the +path running immediately about the bungalow. Those who could get in at +the door had done so, filling the room whence Gwendolen had disappeared, +with awe-struck men and chattering women. Some had been allowed to +descend through the yawning trap-door, down which all were endeavoring +to peer, and, fortified by this fact, I armed myself with an appearance +of authority despite my sense of presumption, and pushed and worked my +own way to these steps, saying that I had come to aid Mrs. Ocumpaugh, +whose attention I declared I had been the first to direct to this place. + +Struck with my manner if not with my argument, they yielded to my +importunity and allowed me to pass down. The stroke of the spade and the +harsh voice of the man directing the work greeted my disquieted ears. +With a bound I cleared the last half-dozen steps and, alighting on the +cellar bottom, was soon able, in spite of the semi-darkness, to look +about me and get some notion of the scene. + +A dozen men were working--the full corps of gardeners without doubt--and +a single glance sufficed to show me that such of the surface as had not +been upturned by their spades had been harried by their footsteps. +Useless now to promulgate my carefully formed theory, with any hope of +proof to substantiate it. The crushed bonbon, the piled-up boxes and the +freshly sawed hole were enough without doubt to establish the fact that +the child had been carried into the walled-up room above, but the link +which would have fixed the identity of the person so carrying her was +gone from my chain of evidence for ever. She who should have had the +greatest interest in establishing this evidence was leaning on the arm +of Miss Porter and directing, with wavering finger and a wild air, the +movements of the men, who, in a frenzy caught from her own, dug here and +dug there as that inexorable finger pointed. + +Sobs choked Miss Porter; but Mrs. Ocumpaugh was beyond all such signs of +grief. Her eyes moved; her breast heaved; now and then a confused +command left her lips, but that was all. Yet to me she was absolutely +terrifying, and it took all the courage left from my disappointment for +me to move so as to attract her attention. When I saw that I had +succeeded in doing this, I regretted the impulse which had led me to +break into her mood. The change which my sudden appearance caused in her +was too abrupt; too startling. I feared the effects, and put up my hand +in silent deprecation as her lips essayed to move in what might be some +very disturbing command. If she heeded it I can not say. What she said +was this: + +[Illustration: "IT'S THE CHILD--I'M LOOKING FOR THE CHILD!"] + +"It's the child--I'm looking for the child! She was brought here. You +proved that she was brought here. Then why don't we find her, or--or her +little innocent body?" + +I did not attempt an answer; I dared not--I merely turned away into a +corner, where I should be out of the way of the men. A thought was +rising in my mind; a thought which might have led to some definite +action if her voice had not risen shrilly and with a despairing +utterance in these words: + +"Useless! It is not here she will be found. I was mad to think it. Pull +up your spades and go." + +A murmur of relief from one end of the cellar to the other, and every +spade was drawn out of the ground. + +"I could have told you," ventured one more hardy than the rest, "that +there was no use disturbing this old clay for any such purpose. Any one +could see that no spade has been at work here before in years." + +"I said that I was mad," she repeated, and waved the men away. + +Slowly they retreated with clattering spades and a heavy tread. The +murmur which greeted them above slowly died out, and the bungalow was +deserted by all but our three selves. When quite sure of this, I turned, +and Miss Porter's eyes met mine with a reproachful glance easy enough +for me to understand. + +"I will go, too," whispered Mrs. Ocumpaugh. "Oh! this has been like +losing my darling for the second time!" + +Real grief is unmistakable. Recognizing the heartfelt tone in which +these words were uttered, I recurred to the idea of frenzy with all the +sympathy her situation called for. Yet I felt that I could not let her +leave before we had come to some understanding. But how express myself? +How say here and now in the presence of a sympathetic but unenlightened +third party what it would certainly be difficult enough for me to utter +to herself in the privacy of that secluded apartment in which we had met +and talked before our confidence was broken into by this impetuous act +of hers. + +Not seeing at the moment any natural way out of my difficulties, I stood +in painful confusion, conscious of Miss Porter's eyes and also conscious +that unless some miracle came to my assistance I must henceforth play +but a sorry figure in this affair, when my eyes, which had fallen to the +ground, chanced upon a morsel of paper so insignificant in size and of +such doubtful appearance that the two ladies must have wondered to see +me stoop and with ill-concealed avidity pick it up and place it in my +pocket. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose false strength was fast leaving her, now muttered +some words which were quite unintelligible to me, though they caused +Miss Porter to make me a motion very expressive of a dismissal. I did +not accept it as such, however, without making one effort to regain my +advantage. At the foot of the steps I paused and glanced back at Mrs. +Ocumpaugh. She was still looking my way, but her chin had fallen on her +breast, and she seemed to sustain herself erect only by a powerful +effort. Again her pitiable and humiliating position appealed to me, and +it was with some indication of feeling that I finally said: + +"Am I not to have an opportunity of finishing the conversation so +unhappily interrupted, Mrs. Ocumpaugh? I am not satisfied, and I do not +believe you can be, with the partial disclosures I then made. Afford me, +I pray, a continuation of that interview, if only to make plain to me +your wishes. Otherwise I may fall into some mistake--say or do something +which I might regret--for matters can not stand where they are. You know +that, do you not, madam?" + +"Adèle! go! go!" This to Miss Porter. "I must have a few words more with +Mr. Trevitt. I had forgotten what I owe him in the frenzy which +possessed me." + +"Do you wish to talk to him _here_?" asked that lady, with very marked +anxiety. + +"No, no; it is too cold, too dark. I think I can walk to Mrs. Carew's. +Will you join me there, Mr. Trevitt?" + +I bowed; but as she passed near me in going out, I whispered in her ear: + +"I should suggest that we hold our talk anywhere but at Mrs. Carew's +house, since she is liable to be the chief subject of our conversation." + +"Now?" + +"Now, more than ever. Her share in the child's disappearance was not +eliminated or affected in any way by the destruction of her +footprints." + +"I will go back to the house; I will see him in my own room," Mrs. +Ocumpaugh suddenly announced to her greatly disturbed companion. "Mr. +Trevitt will follow in a few minutes. I must have time to think--to +compose myself--to decide--" + +She was evidently thinking aloud. Anxious to save her from any +self-betrayal, I hastily interrupted her, saying quietly: + +"I will be at your boudoir door in a half-hour from now. I myself have +something to think of in the interim." + +"Be careful!" It was Miss Porter who stopped to utter this word in my +ear. "Be very careful, I entreat. Her heart-strings are strained almost +to breaking." + +I answered with a look. She could not be more conscious of this than I +was. + + + + +XX + +"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" + + +I was glad of that half-hour. I, too, wanted a free moment in which to +think and examine the small scrap of paper I had picked up from this +cellar floor. In the casual glance I had given it, it had seemed to +offer me a fresh clue, quite capable of replacing the old one; and I did +not change my mind on a second examination; the shape, the hue, the few +words written on it, even the musty smell pervading it, all going to +prove it to be the one possible link which could reunite the chain whose +continuity I had believed to be gone for ever. + +Rejoicing in my good luck, yet conscious of still moving in very +troubled waters, I cast a glance in the direction of Mrs. Carew's house, +from the door of the bungalow whence I had seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh depart, +and asked myself why Mrs. Carew, of all persons in the vicinity, had +been the only one to hang back from this scene of excitement. It was +not like her to hide herself at such a crisis (how invariably she had +followed me in each, and every visit I had paid here!), and though I +remembered all her reasons for pre-occupation, her absence under the +present conditions bore an aspect of guilt which sent my mind working in +a direction which was not entirely new to me, but which I had not as yet +resolutely faced. + +Guilt! The word recalled that other and similar one uttered by Mr. +Rathbone in that adventure which had impressed me as so unreal, and +still held its place in my mind as something I had dreamed. + +He was looking up when he said it, up the hill, up toward Mrs. Carew's +house. He had struck his own breast, but he had looked up, not down; and +though I had naturally associated the word he had used with himself--and +Miss Graham, with a womanly intuition, had supplied me with an +explanation of the same which was neither far-fetched nor unnatural, yet +all through this day of startling vicissitudes and unimaginable +interviews, faint doubts, bidden and unbidden, had visited my mind, +which at this moment culminated in what I might call the irresistible +question as to whether he might not have had in mind some one nearer and +dearer than himself when he uttered that accusing word. + +Her position, as I saw it now, did not make this supposition too +monstrous for belief; that is, if she secretly loved this man who did +not dare, or was too burdened with responsibility, to woo her. And who +can penetrate a woman's mind? To give him--possibly without his +knowledge--what every one who knew him declared him to stand in special +need of--money and relief from too exacting work--might have seemed +motive enough to one of her warm and impulsive temperament, for +eliminating the child she cared for, but not as she cared for him. It +was hard to think it; it would be harder yet to act upon it; but the +longer I stood there brooding, the more I felt my conviction grow that +from her and from her alone, we should yet obtain definite traces of the +missing child, if only Mrs. Ocumpaugh would uphold me in the attempt. + +But would Mrs. Ocumpaugh do this? I own that I had my doubts. Some +hidden cause or instinct which I had not been able to reach, though I +had plunged deep into the most galling secrets of her life, seemed to +stand in the way of her full acceptance of the injury I believed her to +have received from Mrs. Carew; or rather, in the way of her public +acknowledgment of it. Though she would fain have this upturning of the +bungalow cellar pass for an act of frenzy, I could not quite bring +myself to look upon it as such since taking a final observation of its +condition. + +Though her professed purpose had been to seek the body of her child, the +spades had not gone deeper than their length. It had been harrowing, not +digging, she had ordered, and harrowing meant nothing more than an +obliteration of the footprints which I had menaced her with comparing +with those of Mrs. Carew. Why this show of consideration to one she +might call friend, but who could hold no comparison in her mind with the +safety or recovery of the child which, if not hers, was the beloved +object of her husband's heart and only too deeply cherished by herself? +Did she fear her charming neighbor? Was the bond between them founded on +something besides love, and did she apprehend that a discovery of Mrs. +Carew's connection with Gwendolen's disappearance would only precipitate +her own disgrace and open up to public recognition the false +relationship she held toward the little heiress? Hard questions these, +but ones which must soon be faced and answered; for wretched as was Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's position and truly as I sympathized with her misery, I was +none the less resolved to force such acknowledgments from her as would +allow me to approach Mrs. Carew with a definite accusation such as even +that daring spirit could not withstand. + +Thus resolved, and resisting all temptation to hazard an interview with +the latter lady before I had seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh again, I made my way up +slowly through the grounds and entered by the side door just as my watch +told me that the half-hour of my waiting was over. + +Miss Porter was in the upper hall, but turned aside at my approach with +a meaning gesture in the direction of the boudoir. I thought that her +eyes looked red; certainly she was trembling very much; and with this +poor preparation for an interview before which the strongest and most +experienced man might quail, I advanced for the second time that morning +to the door behind which the distracted mother awaited me. + +If I knocked I do not remember it. I rather think she opened the door +for me herself upon hearing my step in the hall. At all events we were +soon standing again face to face, and the battle of our two wills--for +it would be nothing less now--had begun. + +She was the first to speak. Braving my inquiring look with eyes in whose +depths determination struggled with growing despair, she asked me +peremptorily, almost wildly: + +"Have you told any one? Do you mean to publish my shame to the world? I +see decision in your face. Does it mean that? Tell me! Does it mean +that?" + +"No, madam; far be it from me to harbor such an intention unless driven +to it by the greatest necessity. Your secret is your own; my only reason +for betraying my knowledge of it was the hope I cherished of its +affording us some clue to the identity of Gwendolen's abductor. It has +not done so yet, may never do so; then let us leave that topic and +return to the clue offered by the carrying of that child into the +long-closed room back of the bungalow. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, intentionally or +unintentionally, the proof upon which I relied for settling the identity +of the person so carrying her has been destroyed." + +With a flush which her seemingly bloodless condition made perfectly +startling, she drew back, breaking into wild disclaimers: + +"I know--I fear--I was too wild--too eager. I thought only of what might +lie under that floor." + +"In a half-foot of earth, madam? The spades did not enter any deeper." + +With a sudden access of courage, born possibly of her despair, she +sought neither to attempt denial nor palliate the fact. + +"And if this was my intention--though I don't acknowledge it--you must +recognize my reason. I do not believe--you can not make me believe--that +Gwendolen was carried into that room by Mrs. Carew. But I could see that +you believed it, and to save her the shame of such an accusation and all +that might follow from it, I--oh, Mr. Trevitt, you do not think this +possible! Do you know so little of the impulses of a mind, bewildered +as mine has been by intolerable suffering?" + +"I can understand madness, and I am willing to think that you were mad +just then--especially as no harm has been done and I can still accuse +Mrs. Carew of a visit to that room, with the proof in my hand." + +"What do you mean?" The steady voice was faltering, but I could not say +with what emotion--hope for herself--doubt of me--fear for her friend; +it might have been any of these; it might have been all. "Was there a +footprint left, then? You say proof. Do you mean proof? A detective does +not use that word lightly." + +"You may be sure that I would not," I returned. Then in answer to the +appeal of her whole attitude and expression: "No, there were no +footprints left; but I came upon something else which I have sufficient +temerity to believe will answer the same purpose. Remember that my +object is first to convince you and afterward Mrs. Carew, that it will +be useless for her to deny that she has been in that room. Once that is +understood, the rest will come easy; for we know the child was there, +and it is not a place she could have found alone." + +"The proof!" She had no strength for more than that "The proof! Mr. +Trevitt, the proof!" + +I put my hand in my pocket, then drew it out again empty, making haste, +however, to say: + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I do not want to distress you, but I must ask you a few +questions first. Do you know the secret of that strangely divided room?" + +"Only in a general way. Mr. Ocumpaugh has never told me." + +"You have not seen the written account of it?" + +"No." + +"Nor given into Mrs. Carew's hand such an account?" + +"No." + +Mrs. Carew's duplicity was assuming definite proportions. + +"Yet there is such an account and I have listened to a reading of it." + +"You?" + +"Yes, madam. Mrs. Carew read it to me last night in her own house. She +told me it came to her from your hands. You see she is not always +particular in her statements." + +A lift of the hand, whether in deprecation or appeal I could not say, +was all the answer this received. I saw that I must speak with the +utmost directness. + +"This account was in the shape of a letter on several sheets of paper. +These sheets were very old, and were torn as well as discolored. I had +them in my hand and noticed that a piece was lacking from one of them. +Mrs. Ocumpaugh, are you ready to repeat that Mrs. Carew did not receive +this old letter from you or obtain it in any way you know of from the +house we are now in?" + +"I had rather not be forced to contradict Mrs. Carew," was the low +reply; "but in justice to you I must acknowledge that I hear of this +letter for the first time. God grant--but what can any old letter have +to do with the agonizing question before us? I am not strong, Mr. +Trevitt--I am suffering--do not confuse and burden me, I pray--" + +"Pardon, I am not saying one unnecessary word. These old sheets--a +secret from the family--did not come from this house. Whence, then, did +they come into Mrs. Carew's possession? I see you have forestalled my +answer; and if you will now glance at this end of paper, picked up by me +in your presence from the cellar floor across which we both know that +her footsteps have passed, you will see that it is a proof capable of +convicting her of the fact." + +I held out the scrap I now took from my pocket. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's hand refused to take it or her eyes to consult it. + +Nevertheless I still held it out. + +"Pray read the few words you will find there," I urged. "They are in +explanation of the document itself, but they will serve to convince you +that the letter to which they were attached, and which is now in Mrs. +Carew's hands, came from that decaying room." + +"No, no!" The gesture which accompanied this exclamation was more than +one of refusal, it was that of repulse. "I can not see--I do not need +to--I am convinced." + +"Pardon me, but that is not enough, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. I want you to be +certain. Let me read these words. The story they prefaced is unknown to +you; let it remain so; all I need to tell you about it is this: that it +was written by Mr. Ocumpaugh's father--he who raised this partition and +who is the undoubted author of these lines. Remember that they headed +the letter: + +"'_Perish with the room whose ceiling oozes blood! If in time to come +any man reads these lines, he will know why I pulled down the encircling +wall built by my father, and why I raised a new one across this end of +the pavilion._'" + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's eyes opened wide in horror. + +"Blood!" she repeated. "A ceiling oozing blood!" + +"An old superstition, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, quite unworthy your attention at +this moment. Do not let your mind dwell upon that portion of what I have +read, but on the word 'room.' 'Perish with the room!' We know what room +was meant; there can be but one. I have myself seen the desk from which +these sheets were undoubtedly taken--and for them to be in the hand of +a certain person argues--" Mrs. Ocumpaugh's hand went up in dissuasion, +but I relentlessly finished--"that she has been in that room! Are you +more than convinced of this now? Are you sure?" + +She did not need to make reply; eyes and attitude spoke for her. But it +was the look and attitude of despair, not hope. Evidently she had the +very greatest reason to fear Mrs. Carew, who possibly had her hard side +as well as her charming one. + +To ease the situation, I spoke what was in both our minds. + +"I see that you are sure. That makes my duty very plain, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. +My next visit must be upon Mrs. Carew." + +The spirit which, from the beginning of this later interview, had +infused fresh strength into her feeble frame, seemed to forsake her at +this simple declaration; her whole form drooped, and the eyes, which had +rested on mine, turned in their old way to the river. + +I took advantage of this circumstance. + +"Some one who knows you well, who knows the child well, dropped the +wrong shoe into the river." + +A murmur, nothing more, from Mrs. Ocumpaugh's set lips. + +"Could it--I do not say that it was--I don't see any reason why it +should be--but could it have been Mrs. Carew?" + +Not a sound this time, not a sound. + +"She was down at the dock that night. Did you know it?" + +A gesture, but whether of assent or dissent I could not tell. + +"We know of no other person who was there but the men employed." + +"_What do you know?_" + +With all her restraint gone--a suffering and despairing woman, Mrs. +Ocumpaugh was on her knees, grasping my arm with both hands. + +"Quit this torture! tell me that you know it all and leave me +to--to--die!" + +"Madam!" + +I was confounded; and as I looked at her face, strained back in wild +appeal, I was more than confounded, I was terrified. + +"Madam, what does this mean? Are you--you--" + +"Lock the door!" she cried; "no one must come in here now. I have said +so much that I must say more. Listen and be my friend; oh, be my +friend! _Those were my footsteps you saw in the bungalow. It was I who +carried Gwendolen into that secret hole._" + + + + +XXI + +PROVIDENCE + + +Had I suspected this? Had all my efforts for the last half-hour been for +the purpose of entrapping her into some such avowal? I do not know. My +own feelings at the time are a mystery to me; I blundered on, with a +blow here and a blow there, till I hit this woman in a vital spot, and +achieved the above mentioned result. + +I was not happy when I reached it. I felt no elation; scarcely any +relief. It all seemed so impossible. She marked the signs of incredulity +in my face and spoke up quickly, almost sharply: + +"You do not believe me. I will prove the truth of what I say. +Wait--wait!"--and running to a closet, she pulled out a drawer--where +was her weakness now?--and brought from it a pair of soiled white +slippers. "If the house had been ransacked," she proceeded pantingly, +"these would have told their own tale. I was shocked when I saw their +condition, and kept my guests waiting till I changed them. Oh, they will +fit the footprints." Her smile was ghastly. Softly she set the shoes +down. "Mrs. Carew helped me; she went for the child at night. Oh, we are +in a terrible strait, we two, unless you will stand by us like a +friend--and you will do that, won't you, Mr. Trevitt? No one else knows +what I have just confessed--not even Doctor Pool, though he suspects me +in ways I never dreamed of. Money shall not stand in the way--I have a +fortune of my own now--nothing shall stand in the way, if you will have +pity on Mrs. Carew and myself and help us to preserve our secret." + +"Madam, what secret? I pray you to make me acquainted with the whole +matter in all its details before you ask my assistance." + +"Then you do not know it?" + +"Not altogether, and I must know it altogether. First, what has become +of the child?" + +"She is safe and happy. You have seen her; you mentioned doing so just +now." + +"Harry?" + +"Harry." + +I rose before her in intense excitement. What a plot! I stood aghast at +its daring and the success it had so nearly met with. + +"I've had moments of suspicion," I admitted, after a short examination +of this beautiful woman's face for the marks of strength which her part +in this plot seemed to call for. "But they all vanished before Mrs. +Carew's seemingly open manner and the perfect boyishness of the child. +Is she an actress too--Gwendolen?" + +"Not when she plays horse and Indian and other boyish games. She is only +acting out her nature. She has no girl tastes; she is all boy, and it +was by means of these instincts that Mrs. Carew won her. She promised +her that if she would leave home and go with her to Europe she would cut +her hair and call her Harry, and dress her so that every one would think +her a boy. And she promised her something else--that she should go to +her father--Gwendolen idolizes Mr. Ocumpaugh." + +"But--" + +"I know. You wonder why, if I loved my husband, I should send away the +one cherished object of his life. It is because our love was threatened +by this very object. I saw nothing but death and chaos before me if I +kept her. My husband adores the child, but he hates and despises a +falsehood and my secret was threatened by the one man who knows it--your +Doctor Pool. My accomplice once, he declared himself ready to become my +accuser if the child remained under the Ocumpaugh roof one day after the +date he fixed for her removal." + +"Ah!" I ejaculated, with sudden comprehension of the full meaning of the +scrawls I had seen in so many parts of the grounds. "And by what right +did he demand this? What excuse did he give you? His wish for money, +immense money--old miser that he is!" + +"No; for money I could have given him. His motive is a less tangible +one. He has scruples, he says--religious scruples following a change of +heart. Oh, he was a cruel man to meet, determined, inexorable. I could +not move or influence him. The proffer of money only hurt my cause. A +fraud had been perpetrated, he said, and Mr. Ocumpaugh must know it. +Would I confess the truth to him myself? No. Then he would do so for me +and bring proofs to substantiate his statements. I thought all was +lost--my husband's confidence, his love, his pleasure even in the child, +for it was his own blood that he loved in her, and her connection with +his family of whose prestige he has an exaggerated idea. Made desperate +by the thought, I faced this cruel doctor--(it was in his own office; he +had presumed upon that old secret linking us together to summon me +there)--and told him solemnly that rather than do this I would kill +myself. And he almost bade me, 'Kill!' but refrained when the word had +half left his lips and changed it to a demand for the child's immediate +removal from the benefits it enjoyed under false pretenses." + +And from this Mrs. Ocumpaugh went on to relate how he had told her that +Gwendolen had inherited fortunes because she was believed to be an +Ocumpaugh; that not being an Ocumpaugh she must never handle those +fortunes, winding up with some such language as this: "Manage it how you +will, only relieve me from the oppression of feeling myself a party to +the grossest of deceptions. Can not the child run away and be lost? I am +willing to aid you in that, even to paying for her bringing up in some +decent, respectable way, such as would probably have been her lot if you +had not interfered to place her in the way of millions." It was a mad +thought, half meant and apparently wholly impossible to carry out +without raising suspicions as damaging as confession itself. But it took +an immediate hold upon the miserable woman he addressed, though she gave +little evidence of it, for he proceeded to add in a hard tone: "That or +immediate confession to your husband, with me by to substantiate your +story. No slippery woman's tricks will go down with me. Fix the date +here and now and I promise to stand back and await the result in total +silence. Dally with it by so much as an hour, and I am at your gates +with a story that all must hear." Is it a matter of wonder that the +stricken woman, without counsel and prohibited, from the very nature of +her secret, from seeking counsel, uttered the first one that came to +mind and went home to brood over her position and plan how she could +satisfy his demands with the least cost to herself, her husband and the +child? + +Mr. Ocumpaugh was in Europe. This was her one point of comfort. What +was done could be done in his absence, and this fact greatly minimized +any risk she was likely to incur. When he returned he would find the +house in mourning, for she had already decided within herself that only +by apparent death could this child be safely robbed of her endowments as +an Ocumpaugh and an heiress. He would grieve, but his grief would lack +the sting of shame, and so in course of time would soften into a lovely +memory of one who had been as the living sunshine to him and, like the +sunshine, brief in its shining. Thus and thus only could she show her +consideration for him. For herself no consideration was possible. It +must always be her fate to know the child alive yet absolutely removed +from her. This was a sorrow capable of no alleviation, for Gwendolen was +passionately dear to her, all the dearer, perhaps, because the +mother-thirst had never been satisfied; because she had held the cup in +hand but had never been allowed to drink. The child's future--how to rob +her of all she possessed, yet secure her happiness and the prospect of +an honorable estate--ah, there was the difficulty! and one she quite +failed to solve till, in a paroxysm of terror and despair, after five +sleepless nights, she took Mrs. Carew into her confidence and implored +her aid. + +The free, resourceful, cheery nature of the broader-minded woman saw +through the difficulty at once. "Give her to me," she cried. "I love +little children passionately and have always grieved over my childless +condition. I will take Gwendolen, raise her and fill her little heart so +full of love she will never miss the magnificence she has been brought +to look upon as her birthright. Only I shall have to leave this +vicinity--perhaps the country." + +"And you would be willing?" asked the poor mother--mother by right of +many years of service, if not of blood. + +The answer broke her heart though it was only a smile. But such a +smile--confident, joyous, triumphant; the smile of a woman who has got +her heart's wish, while she, she, must henceforth live childless. + +So that was settled, but not the necessary ways and means of +accomplishment; those came only with time. The two women had always been +friends, so their frequent meetings in the green boudoir did not waken +a suspicion. A sudden trip to Europe was decided on by Mrs. Carew and by +degrees the whole plot perfected. In her eyes it looked feasible enough +and they both anticipated complete success. Having decided that the +scheme as planned by them could be best carried out in the confusion of +a great entertainment, cards were sent out for the sixteenth, the date +agreed upon in the doctor's office as the one which should see a +complete change in Gwendolen's prospects. It was also settled that on +the same day Mrs. Carew should bring home, from a certain small village +in Connecticut, her little nephew who had lately been left an orphan. +There was no deception about this nephew. Mrs. Carew had for some time +supplied his needs and paid for his board in the farm-house where he had +been left, and in the emergency which had just come up, she took care to +publish to all her friends that she was going to bring him home and take +him with her to Europe. Further, a market-man and woman with whom Mrs. +Carew had had dealings for years were persuaded to call at her house +shortly after three that afternoon, to take this nephew of hers by a +circuitous and prolonged ride through the country to an institution in +which she had had him entered under an assumed name. All this in one +day. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Carew undertook to open with her own hands a passage from +the cellar of the bungalow into the long closed room behind the +partition. This was to insure such a safe retreat for the child during +the first search, that by no possibility could anything be found to +contradict the testimony of the little shoe which Mrs. Ocumpaugh +purposed presenting to all eyes as found on the slope leading to that +great burial-place, the river. Otherwise the child might have been +passed over to Mrs. Carew at once. All this being decided upon, each +waited to perform the part assigned her--Mrs. Carew in a fever of +delight--for she was passionately devoted to Gwendolen and experienced +nothing but rapture at the prospect of having this charming child all to +herself--Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose only recompense would be freedom from a +threatening exposure which would cost her the only thing she prized, her +husband's love, in a condition of cold dread, relieved only by the +burning sense of the necessity of impressing upon the whole world, and +especially upon Mr. Ocumpaugh, an absolute belief in the child's death. + +This was her first care. To this her mind clung with an agony of purpose +which was the fittest preparation possible for real display of feeling +when the time came. But she forgot one thing--they both forgot one +thing--that chance or Providence might ordain that witnesses should be +on the road below Homewood to prove that the child did not cross the +track at the time of her disappearance. To them it seemed enough to +plead the child's love for the water, her desire to be allowed to fish, +the opportunity given her to escape, and--the little shoes. Such +short-sightedness in face of a great peril could be pardoned Mrs. +Ocumpaugh on the verge of delirium under her cold exterior, but Mrs. +Carew should have taken this possibility into account; and would have +done so, probably, had she not been completely absorbed in the part she +would be called upon to play when the exchange of children should be +made and Gwendolen be intrusted to her charge within a dozen rods of her +own home. This she could dwell on with the whole force of her mind; +this she could view in all its relations and make such a study of as to +provide herself against all contingencies. But the obvious danger of a +gang of men being placed just where they could serve as witnesses, in +contradiction of the one fact upon which the whole plot was based, never +even struck her imagination. + +The nursery-governess whose heart was divided between her duty to the +child and her strong love of music, was chosen as their unconscious +accomplice in this fraud. As the time for the great musicale approached, +she was bidden to amuse Gwendolen in the bungalow, with the +understanding that if the child fell asleep she might lay her on the +divan, and so far leave her as to take her place on the bench outside +where the notes of the solo singers could reach her. That Gwendolen +would fall asleep and fall asleep soon, the wretched mother well knew, +for she had given her a safe but potent sleeping draft which could not +fail to insure a twelve hours' undisturbed slumber to so healthy a +child. The fact that the little one had shrunk more than ever from her +attentions that morning both hurt and encouraged her. Certainly it +would make it easier for Mrs. Carew to influence Gwendolen. In her own +mind filled with terrible images of her husband's grief and her long +prospective dissimulation, one picture rose in brilliant contrast to the +dark one embodying her own miserable future and that of the soon-to-be +bereaved father. It was that of the perfect joy of the hungry-hearted +child in the arms of the woman she loved best. It brought her cheer--it +brought her anguish. It was a salve to her conscience and a mortal +thrust in an already festering wound. She shut it from her eyes as much +as possible,--and so, the hour came. + +We know its results--how far the scheme succeeded and whence its great +failure arose. Gwendolen fell asleep almost immediately on reaching the +bungalow and Miss Graham, dreaming no harm and having the most perfect +confidence in Mrs. Ocumpaugh, took advantage of the permission she had +received, and slipped outside to sit on the bench and listen to the +music. Presently Mrs. Ocumpaugh appeared, saying that she had left her +guests for a moment just to take a look at Gwendolen and see if all were +well with her. + +As she needed no attendance, Miss Graham might stay where she was. And +Miss Graham did, taking great pleasure in the music, which was the +finest she had ever heard. Meanwhile Mrs. Ocumpaugh entered the +bungalow, and, untying the child's shoes as she had frequently done +before when she found her asleep, she lifted her and carried her just as +she was down the trap, the door of which she had previously raised. The +darkness lurking in such places, a darkness which had rendered it so +impenetrable at midnight, was relieved to some extent in daylight by +means of little grated openings in the wall under the beams, so that her +chief difficulty lay in holding up her long dress and sustaining the +heavy child at the same time. But the exigency of the moment and her +apprehension lest Miss Graham should reënter the bungalow before she +could finish her task and escape, gave great precision to her movements, +and in an incredibly short space of time she had reached those musty +precincts which, if they should not prove the death of the child, would +safely shelter her from every one's eye, till the first excitement of +her loss was over, and the conviction of her death by drowning became a +settled fact in every mind. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's return was a flight. She had brought one of the little +shoes with her, concealed in a pocket she had made especially for it in +the trimmings of her elaborate gown. She found the bungalow empty, the +trap still raised, and Miss Graham, toward whom she cast a hurried look +through the window, yet in her place, listening with enthralled +attention to the great tenor upon whose magnificent singing Mrs. +Ocumpaugh had relied for the successful carrying out of what she and +Mrs. Carew considered the most critical part of the plot. So far then, +all was well. She had but to drop the trap-door carefully to its place, +replace the corner of the carpet she had pulled up, push down with her +foot the two or three nails she had previously loosened, and she would +be quite at liberty to quit the place and return to her guests. + +But she found that this was not as easy as she had imagined. The clogs +of a terrible, almost a criminal, consciousness held back her steps. She +stumbled as she left the bungalow and stopped to catch her breath as if +the oppression of the room in which she had immured her darling had +infected the sunny air of this glorious day and made free breathing an +impossibility. The weights on her feet were so palpable to her that she +unconsciously looked down at them. This was how she came to notice the +dust on her shoes. Alive to the story it told, she burst the spell which +held her and made a bound toward the house. + +Rushing to her room she shook her skirts and changed her shoes, and thus +freed from all connecting links with that secret spot, reëntered among +her guests, as beautiful and probably as wretched a woman as the world +contained that day. + +Yet not as wretched as she could be. There were depths beneath these +depths. If he should ever know! If he should ever come to look at her +with horrified, even alienated eyes! Ah, that were the end--that would +mean the river for her--the river which all were so soon to think had +swallowed the little Gwendolen. Was that Miss Graham coming? Was the +stir she now heard outside, the first indication of the hue and cry +which would soon ring through the whole place and her shrinking heart +as well? No, no, not yet. She could still smile, must smile and smite +her two glove-covered hands together in simulated applause of notes and +tones she did not even hear. And no one noted anything strange in that +smile or in that gracious bringing together of hands, which if any one +had had the impulse to touch-- + +But no one thought of doing that. A heart may bleed drop by drop to its +death in our full sight without our suspecting it, if the eyes above it +still beam with natural brightness. And hers did that. She had always +been called impassive. God be thanked that no warmth was expected from +her and that no one would suspect the death she was dying, if she did +not cry out. But the moment came when she did cry out. Miss Graham +entered, told her story, and all Mrs. Ocumpaugh's pent-up agony burst +its bounds in a scream which to others seemed but the natural outburst +of an alarmed mother. She fled to the bungalow, because that seemed the +natural thing to do, and never forgetting what was expected of her, +cried aloud in presence of its emptiness: "The river! the river!" and +went stumbling down the bank. + +The shoe was near her hand and she drew it out as she went on. When they +found her she had fainted; the excess of excitement has this natural +outcome. She did not have to play a part, the humiliation of her own +deed and the terrors yet to come were eating up her very soul. Then came +the blow, the unexpected, overwhelming blow of finding that the +deception planned with such care--a deception upon the success of which +the whole safety of the scheme depended--was likely to fail just for the +simple reason that a dozen men could swear that the child had never +crossed the track. She was dazed--confounded. Mrs. Carew was not by to +counsel her; she had her own part in this business to play; and Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, conscious of being mentally unfit for any new planning, +conscious indeed of not being able to think at all, simply followed her +instinct and held to the old cry in face of proof, of persuasion, of +reason even; and so, did the very wisest thing possible, no one +expecting reason in a mother reeling under such a vital shock. + +But the cooler, more subtile and less guilty Mrs. Carew had some +judgment left, if her friend had lost hers. Her own part had been well +played. She had brought her nephew home without giving any one, not even +the maid she had provided herself with in New York, an opportunity to +see his face; and she had passed him over, dressed in quite different +clothes, to the couple in the farm-wagon, who had carried him, as she +supposed, safely out of reach and any possibility of discovery. You see +her calculations failed here also. She did not credit the doctor with +even the little conscience he possessed, and, unconscious of his near +waiting on the highway in anxious watch for the event concerning which +he had his own secret doubts, she deluded herself into thinking that all +they had to fear was a continuation of the impression that Gwendolen had +not gone down to the river and been drowned. + +When, therefore, she had acted out her little part--received the +searching party and gone with them all over the house even to the door +of the room where she said her little nephew was resting after his +journey--(Did they look in? Perhaps, and perhaps not, it mattered +little, for the bed had been arranged against this contingency and no +one but a detective bent upon ferreting out crime would have found it +empty)--she asked herself how she could strengthen the situation and +cause the theory advanced by Mrs. Ocumpaugh to be received, +notwithstanding the evidence of seeming eye-witnesses. The result was +the throwing of a second shoe into the water as soon as it was dark +enough for her to do this unseen. As she had to approach the river by +her own grounds, and as she was obliged to choose a place sufficiently +remote from the lights about the dock not to incur the risk of being +detected in her hazardous attempt, the shoe fell at a spot farther down +stream than the searchers had yet reached, and the intense excitement I +had myself seen in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's face the day I made my first visit +to Homewood, sprang from the agony of suspense with which she watched, +after twenty-four hours of alternating expectation and disappointment, +the finding of this second shoe which, with fanatic confidence, she +hoped would bring all the confirmation to be desired of her oft-repeated +declaration that the child would yet be found in the river. + +Meanwhile, to the infinite dismay of both, the matter had been placed in +the hands of the police and word sent to Mr. Ocumpaugh, not that the +child was dead, but missing. This meant world-wide publicity and the +constant coming and going about Homewood of the very men whose insight +and surveillance were most to be dreaded. Mrs. Ocumpaugh sank under the +terrors thus accumulating upon her; but Mrs. Carew, of different +temperament and history, rose to meet them with a courage which bade +fair to carry everything before it. + +As midnight approached (the hour agreed upon in their compact) she +prepared to go for Gwendolen. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, who had not forgotten what +was expected of her at that hour, roused as the clock struck twelve, and +uttering a loud cry, rushed from her place in the window down to the +lawn, calling out that she had heard the men shout aloud from the boats. +Her plan was to draw every one who chanced to be about, down to the +river bank, in order to give Mrs. Carew full opportunity to go and come +unseen on her dangerous errand. And she apparently succeeded in this, +for by the time she had crept back in seeming disappointment to the +house, a light could be seen burning behind a pink shade in one of Mrs. +Carew's upper windows--the signal agreed upon between them of the +presence of Gwendolen in her new home. + +But small was the relief as yet. The shoe had not been found, and at any +moment some intruder might force his way into Mrs. Carew's house and, in +spite of all her precautions, succeed in obtaining a view of the little +Harry and recognize in him the missing child. + +Of these same precautions some mention must be made. The artful widow +had begun by dismissing all her help, giving as an excuse her speedy +departure for Europe, and the colored girl she had brought up from New +York saw no difference in the child running about the house in its +little velvet suit from the one who, with bound-up face and a heavy +shade over his eyes, came up in the cars with her in Mrs. Carew's lap. +Her duties being limited to a far-off watch on the child to see that it +came to no harm, she was the best witness possible in case of police +intrusion or neighborhood gossip. As for Gwendolen herself, the novelty +of the experience and the prospect held out by a speedy departure to +"papa's country" kept her amused and even hilarious. She laughed when +her hair was cut short, darkened and parted. She missed but one thing, +and that was her pet plaything which she used to carry to bed with her +at night. The lack of this caused some tears--a grief which was divined +by Mrs. Ocumpaugh, who took pains to assuage it in the manner we all +know. + +But this was after the finding of the second shoe; the event so long +anticipated and so little productive. Somehow, neither Mrs. Carew nor +Mrs. Ocumpaugh had taken into consideration the fact of the child's +shoes being rights and lefts, and when this attempt to second the first +deception was decided on, it was thought a matter of congratulation that +Gwendolen had been supplied with two pairs of the same make and that one +pair yet remained in her closet. The mate of that shown by Mrs. +Ocumpaugh was still on the child's foot in the bungalow, but there being +no difference in any of them, what was simpler than to take one of these +and fling it where it would be found. Alas! the one seized upon by Mrs. +Carew was for the same foot as that already shown and commented on, and +thus this second attempt failed even more completely than the first, and +people began to cry, "A conspiracy!" + +And a conspiracy it was, but one which might yet have succeeded if +Doctor Pool's suspicion of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's intentions, and my own +secret knowledge of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's real position toward this child, +could have been eliminated from the situation. But with those two +factors against them, detection had crept upon them in unknown ways, and +neither Mrs. Ocumpaugh's frantic clinging to the theory she had so +recklessly advanced, nor Mrs. Carew's determined effort to meet +suspicion with the brave front calculated to disarm it, was of any +avail. The truth would have its way and their secret stood revealed. + +This was the story told me by Mrs. Ocumpaugh; not in the continuous and +detailed manner I have here set down, but in disjointed sentences and +wild bursts of disordered speech. When it was finished she turned upon +me eyes full of haggard inquiry. + +"Our fate is in your hands," she falteringly declared. "What will you do +with it?" + +It was the hardest question which had ever been put me. For minutes I +contemplated her in a silence which must have been one prolonged agony +to her. I did not see my way; I did not see my duty. Then the fifty +thousand dollars! + +At last, I replied as follows: + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, if you will let me advise you, as a man intensely +interested in the happiness of yourself and husband, I would suggest +your meeting him at quarantine and telling him the whole truth." + +"I would rather die," said she. + +"Yet only by doing what I suggest can you find any peace in life. The +consciousness that others know your secret will come between you and any +satisfaction you can ever get out of your husband's continued +confidence. A wrong has been done; you are the only one to right it." + +"I can not. I can die, but I can not do that." + +And for a minute I thought she would die then and there. + +"Doctor Pool is a fanatic; he will pursue you until he is assured that +the child is in good hands." + +"You can assure him of that now." + +"Next month his exactions may take another direction. You can never +trust a man who thinks he has a mission. Pardon my presumption. No +mercenary motive prompts what I am saying now." + +"So you intend to publish my story, if I do not?" + +I hesitated again. Such questions can not be decided in a moment. Then, +with a certain consciousness of doing right, I answered earnestly: + +"To no one but to Mr. Ocumpaugh do I feel called upon to disclose what +really concerns no one but yourself and him." + +Her hands rose toward me in a gesture which may have been an expression +of gratitude or only one of simple appeal. + +"He is not due until Saturday," I added gently. + +No answer from the cold lips. I do not think she could have spoken if +she had tried. + + + + +XXII + +ON THE SECOND TERRACE + + +My first step on leaving Homewood was to seek a public telephone. +Calling up Doctor Pool in Yonkers, I assured him that he might rest easy +as to the young patient to whose doubtful condition he had called my +attention. That she was in good hands and was doing well. That I had +seen her and would give him all necessary particulars when I came to +interview him later in the day. To his uneasy questions I vouchsafed +little reply. I was by no means sure of the advisability of taking him +into my full confidence. It was enough for him to know that his demands +had been complied with without injury to the child. + +Before hanging up the receiver, I put him a question on my own behalf. +How was the boy in his charge? The growl he returned me was very +non-committal, and afforded me some food for thought as I turned back to +Mrs. Carew's cottage, where I now proposed to make a final visit. + +I entered from the road. The heavily wooded grounds looked desolate. The +copper beeches which are the glory of the place seemed to have lost +color since I last saw them above the intervening hedges. Even the +house, as it gradually emerged to view through the close shrubbery, wore +a different aspect from usual. In another moment I saw why. Every +shutter was closed and not a vestige of life was visible above or below. +Startled, for I had not expected quite so hasty a departure on her part, +I ran about to the side door where I had previously entered and rang fit +to wake the dead. Only solitary echoes came from within and I was about +to curse the time I had lost in telephoning to Doctor Pool, when I heard +a slight sound in the direction of the private path, and, leaping +hastily to the opening, caught the glimpse of something or somebody +disappearing down the first flight of steps. + +Did I run? You may believe I did, at least till I had descended the +first terrace; then my steps grew gradually wary and finally ceased; for +I could hear voices ahead of me on the second terrace to which I had +now come, and these voices came from persons standing still. If I rushed +on I should encounter these persons, and this was undesirable. I +accordingly paused just short of the top, and so heard what raised the +moment into one of tragic importance. + +One of the speakers was Mrs. Carew--there was no doubting this--the +other was Mr. Rathbone. From no other lips than his could I hope to hear +words uttered with such intensity, though he was guarded in his speech, +or thought he was, which is not always the same thing. + +He was pleading with her, and my heart stood still with the sense of +threatening catastrophe as I realized the attitude of the pair. He, as +every word showed, was still ignorant of Gwendolen's fate, consequently +of the identity of the child who I had every reason to believe was at +that very moment fluttering a few steps below in the care of the colored +maid, whose voice I could faintly hear; she, with his passion to meet +and quell, had this secret to maintain; hearing his wild entreaties with +one ear and listening for the possible outbursts of the +not-to-be-restrained child with the other; mad to go--to catch her train +before discovery overwhelmed her, yet not daring to hasten him, for his +mood was a man's mood and not to be denied. I felt sorry for her, and +cast about in my mind what aid to give the situation, when the passion +of his words seized me, and I forgot her position in the interest I +began to feel in his. + +"Valerie, Valerie," he was saying, "this is cruelty. You go with no good +cause that I can see--put the sea between us, and yet say no word to +make the parting endurable. You understand what I suffer--my hateful +thoughts, my dread, which is not so much dread as--Oh, that I should say +it! Oh, that I should feel it!--hope; guilty, unpardonable hope. Yet you +refuse me the little word, the kindly look, which would alleviate the +oppression of my feelings and give me the thought of you to counteract +this eternal brooding upon Gwendolen and her possible fate. I want a +promise--conditional, O God! but yet a promise; and you simply bid me to +have patience; to wait--as if a man could wait who sees his love, his +life, his future trembling in the balance against the fate of a little +child. If you loved me--" + +"Hush!" The feeling in that word was not for him. I felt it at once; it +was for her secret, threatened every instant she lingered there by some +move, by some word which might escape a thoughtless child. "You do not +understand me, Justin. You talk with no comprehension of myself or of +the event. Six months from now, if all goes well, you will see that I +have been kind, not cruel. I can not say any more; I should not have +said so much. Go back, dear friend, and let me take the train with +Harry. The sea is not impassable. We shall meet again, and then--" Did +she pause to look behind her down those steps--to make some gesture of +caution to the uneasy child? "you will forgive me for what seems cruelty +to you now. I can not do differently. With all the world weeping over +the doubtful fate of this little child, you can not expect me to--to +make any promise conditional upon her _death_." + +The man's cry drove the irony of the situation out of my mind. + +"Puerilities! all puerilities. A man's life--soul--are worth some +sacrifices. If you loved me--" A quick ingathering of his breath, then a +low moan, then the irrepressible cry she vainly sought to hush, "O +Valerie, you are silent! You do not love me! Two years of suffering! two +years of repression, then this delirium of hope, of possibility, and you +_silent_! I will trouble you no more. Gwendolen alive or Gwendolen dead, +what is it to me! I--" + +[Illustration: "HUSH! THERE IS NO DOUBT ON THAT TOPIC; THE CHILD IS +DEAD. LET THAT BE UNDERSTOOD BETWEEN US."] + +"Hush! there is no doubt on that topic; the child is _dead_. Let that be +understood between us." This was whispered, and whispered very low, but +the air seemed breathless at that moment and I heard her. "This is my +last word to you. You will have your fortune, whether you have my love +or not. Remember that, and--" + +"Auntie, make Dinah move away; I want to see the man you are talking +to." + +Gwendolen had spoken. + + + + +XXIII + +A CORAL BEAD + + +"What's that?" + +It was Mr. Rathbone who first found voice. + +"To what a state have I come when in every woman's face, even in hers +who is dearest, I see expressions I no longer understand, and in every +child's voice catch the sound of Gwendolen's?" + +"Harry's voice is not like Gwendolen's," came in desperate protest from +the ready widow. A daring assertion for her to make to him who had often +held this child in his arms for hours together. "You are not yourself, +Justin. I am sorry. I--I--" Almost she gave her promise, almost she +risked her future, possibly his, by saying, under the stress of her +fears, what her heart did not prompt her to, when-- + +A quick move on her part, a low cry on his, and he came rushing up the +steps. + +I had advanced at her hesitating words and shown myself. + +When Mr. Rathbone was well up the terrace (he hardly honored me with a +look as he went by), I slowly began my descent to where she stood with +her back toward me and her arms thrown round the child she had evidently +called to her in her anxiety to conceal the little beaming face from +this new intruder. + +That she had not looked as high as my face I felt assured; that she +would not show me hers unless I forced her to seemed equally certain. +Every step I took downward was consequently of moment to me. I wondered +how I should come out of this; what she would do; what I myself should +say. The bold course commended itself to me. No more circumlocution; no +more doubtful playing of the game with this woman. I would take the bull +by the horns and-- + +I had reached the step on which she crouched. I could catch sight of the +child's eyes over her shoulder, a shoulder that quivered--was it with +the storm of the last interview, or with her fear of this? I would see. + +Pausing, I said to her with every appearance of respect, but in my most +matter-of-fact tones: + +"Mrs. Carew, may I request you to send Gwendolen down to the girl I see +below there? I have something to say to you before you leave." + +_Gwendolen!_ + +With a start which showed how completely she was taken by surprise, Mrs. +Carew rose. She may have recognized my voice and she may not; it is hard +to decide in such an actress. Whether she did or not, she turned with a +frown, which gave way to a ravishing smile as her eyes met my face. + +"You?" she said, and without any betrayal in voice or gesture that she +recognized that her hopes, and those of the friend to whose safety she +had already sacrificed so much, had just received their death-blow, she +gave a quick order to the girl who, taking the child by the hand, sat +down on the steps Mrs. Carew now quitted and laid herself out to be +amusing. + +Gravely Mrs. Carew confronted me on the terrace below. + +"Explain," said she. + +"I have just come from Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I replied. + +The veiled head dropped a trifle. + +"She could not sustain herself! So all is lost?" + +"That depends. But I must request you not to leave the country till Mr. +Ocumpaugh returns." + +The flash of her eye startled me. "Who can detain me," she cried, "if I +wish to go?" + +I did not answer in kind. I had no wish to rouse this woman's +opposition. + +"I do not think you will want to go when you remember Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +condition. Would you leave her to bear the full burden of this deception +alone? She is a broken woman. Her full story is known to me. I have the +profoundest sympathy for her. She has only three days in which to decide +upon her course. I have advised her to tell the whole truth to her +husband." + +"You!" + +The word was but a breath, but I heard it. Yet I felt no resentment +against this woman. No one could, under the spell of so much spirit and +grace. + +"Did I not advise her right?" + +"Perhaps, but you must not detain _me_. You must do nothing to separate +me from this child. I will not bear it. I have experienced for days now +what motherhood might be, and nothing on earth shall rob me of my +present rights in this child." Then as she met my unmoved countenance: +"If you know Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole history, you know that neither she +nor her husband has any real claim on the child." + +"In that you are mistaken," I quickly protested. "Six years of care and +affection such as they have bestowed on Gwendolen, to say nothing of the +substantial form which these have taken from the first, constitute a +claim which all the world must recognize, if you do not. Think of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's belief in her relation to him! Think of the shock which +awaits him, when he learns that she is not of his blood and lineage!" + +"I know, I know." Her fingers worked nervously; the woman was showing +through the actress. "But I will not give up the child. Ask anything but +that." + +"Madam, I have had the honor so far to make but one requirement--that +you do not carry the child out of the country--yet." + +As I uttered this ultimatum, some influence, acting equally upon both, +caused us to turn in the direction of the river; possibly an +apprehension lest some word of this conversation might be overheard by +the child or the nurse. A surprise awaited us which effectually +prevented Mrs. Carew's reply. In the corner of the Ocumpaugh grounds +stood a man staring with all his eyes at the so-called little Harry. An +expression of doubt was on his face. I knew the minute to be critical +and was determined to make the most of it. + +"Do you know that man?" I whispered to Mrs. Carew. + +The answer was brief but suggestive of alarm. + +"Yes, one of the gardeners over there--one of whom Gwendolen is +especially fond." + +"She's the one to fear, then. Engage his attention while I divert hers." + +All this in a whisper while the man was summoning up courage to speak. + +"A pretty child," he stammered, as Mrs. Carew advanced toward him +smiling. "Is that your little nephew I've heard them tell about? Seems +to me he looks like our own little lost one; only darker and sturdier." + +"Much sturdier," I heard her say as I made haste to accost the child. + +"Harry," I cried, recalling my old address when I was in training for a +gentleman; "your aunt is in a hurry. The cars are coming; don't you hear +the whistle? Will you trust yourself to me? Let me carry you--I mean +pick-a-back, while we run for the train." + +The sweet eyes looked up--it was fortunate for Mrs. Carew that no one +but myself had ever got near enough to see those eyes or she could +hardly have kept her secret--and at first slowly, then with instinctive +trust, the little arms rose and I caught her to my breast, taking care +as I did so to turn her quite away from the man whom Mrs. Carew was +about leaving. + +"Come!" I shouted back, "we shall be late!"--and made a dash for the +gate. + +Mrs. Carew joined me, and none of us said anything till we reached the +station platform. Then as I set the child down, I gave her one look. She +was beaming with gratitude. + +"That saved us, together with the few words I could edge in between his +loud regrets at my going and his exclamations of grief over Gwendolen's +loss. On the train I shall fear nothing. If you will lift him up I will +wrap him in this shawl as if he were ill. Once in New York--are you not +going to permit me?" + +"To go to New York, yes; but not to the steamer." + +She showed anger, but also an admirable self-control. Far off we could +catch the sounding thrill of the approaching train. + +"I yield," she announced suddenly. And opening the bag at her side, she +fumbled in it for a card which she presently put in my hand. "I was +going there for lunch," she explained. "Now I will take a room and +remain until I hear from you." Here she gave me a quick look. "You do +not appear satisfied." + +"Yes, yes," I stammered, as I looked at the card and saw her name over +that of an inconspicuous hotel in the down-town portion of New York +City. "I merely--" + +The nearing of the train gave me the opportunity of cutting short the +sentence I should have found it difficult to finish. + +"Here is the child," I exclaimed, lifting the little one, whom she +immediately enveloped in the light but ample wrap she had chosen as a +disguise. + +"Good-by--Harry." + +"Good-by! I like you. Your arms are strong and you don't shake me when +you run." + +Mrs. Carew smiled. There was deep emotion in her face. "_Au revoir!_" +she murmured in a tone implying promise. Happily I understood the French +phrase. + +I bowed and drew back. Was I wrong in letting her slip from my +surveillance? The agitation I probably showed must have caused her some +thought. But she would have been more than a diviner of mysteries to +have understood its cause. Her bag, when she had opened it before my +eyes, had revealed among its contents a string of remarkable corals. A +bead similar in shape, color and marking rested at that very moment over +my own heart. Was that necklace one bead short? With a start of +conviction I began to believe so and that I was the man who could +complete it. If that was so--why, then--then-- + +It isn't often that a detective's brain reels--but mine did then. + +The train began to move-- + +This discovery, the greatest of all, if I were right, would-- + +I had no more time to think. + +Instinctively, with a quick jump, I made my place good on the rear car. + + + + +XXIV + +"SHALL I GIVE HIM MY WORD, HARRY?" + + +I did not go all the way to New York on the train which Mrs. Carew and +the child had taken. I went only as far as Yonkers. + +When I reached Doctor Pool's house, I thought it entirely empty. Even +the office seemed closed. But appearances here could not always be +trusted, and I rang the bell with a vigor which must have awakened +echoes in the uninhabited upper stories. I know that it brought the +doctor to the door, and in a state of doubtful amiability. But when he +saw who awaited him, his appearance changed and he welcomed me in with a +smile or what was as nearly like one as his austere nature would permit. + +"How now! Want your money? Seems to me you have earned it with +unexpected ease." + +"Not such great ease," I replied, as he carefully closed the door and +locked it. "I know that I feel as tired as I ever did in my life. The +child is in New York under the guardianship of a woman who is really +fond of her. You can dismiss all care concerning her." + +"I see--and who is the woman? Name her." + +"You do not trust me, I see." + +"I trust no one in business matters." + +"This is not a business matter--yet." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have not asked for money. I am not going to till I can perfectly +satisfy you that all deception is at an end so far as Mr. Ocumpaugh at +least is concerned." + +"Oh, you would play fair, I see." + +I was too interested in noting how each of his hands involuntarily +closed on itself, in his relief at not being called upon to part with +some of his hoardings, to answer with aught but a nod. + +"You have your reasons for keeping close, of course," he growled as he +led the way toward the basement stairs. "You're not out of the woods, is +that it? Or has the great lady bargained with you?--Um? Um?" + +He threw the latter ejaculations back over his shoulder as he descended +to the office. They displeased me, and I made no attempt to reply. In +fact, I had no reply ready. Had I bargained with Mrs. Ocumpaugh? Hardly. +Yet-- + +"She is handsome enough," the old man broke in sharply, cutting in two +my self-communings. "You're a fellow of some stamina, if you have got at +her secret without making her a promise. So the child is well! That's +good! There's one long black mark eliminated from my account. But I have +not closed the book, and I am not going to, till my conscience has +nothing more to regret. It is not enough that the child is handed over +to a different life; the fortunes that have been bequeathed her must be +given to him who would have inherited them had this child not been taken +for a veritable Ocumpaugh." + +"That raises a nice point," I said. + +"But one that will drag all false things to light." + +"Your action in the matter along with the rest," I suggested. + +"True! but do you think I shall stop because of that?" + +He did not look as if he would stop because of anything. + +"Do you not think Mrs. Ocumpaugh worthy some pity? Her future is a +ghastly one, whichever way you look at it." + +"She sinned," was his uncompromising reply. "The wages of sin is death." + +"But such death!" I protested; "death of the heart, which is the worst +death of all." + +He shrugged his shoulders, leading the way into the office. + +"Let her beware!" he went on surlily. "Last month I saw my duty no +further than the exaction of this child's dismissal from the home whose +benefits she enjoyed under a false name. To-day I am led further by the +inexorable guide which prompts the anxious soul. All that was wrong must +be made good. Mr. Ocumpaugh must know on whom his affections have been +lavished. I will not yield. The woman has done wrong; and she shall +suffer for it till she rises, a redeemed soul, into a state of mind that +prefers humiliation to a continuance in a life of deception. You may +tell her what I say--that is, if you enjoy the right of conversation +with her." + +The look he shot me at this was keen as hate and spite could make it. I +was glad that we were by this time in the office, and that I could +avoid his eye by a quick look about the well-remembered place. This +proof of the vindictive pursuit he had marked out for himself was no +surprise to me. I expected no less, yet it opened up difficulties which +made my way, as well as hers, look dreary in the prospect. He perceived +my despondency and smiled; then suddenly changed his tone. + +"You do not ask after the little patient I have here. Come, Harry, come; +here is some one I will let you see." + +The door of my old room swung open and I do not know which surprised me +most, the kindness in the rugged old voice I had never before heard +lifted in tenderness, or the look of confidence and joy on the face of +the little boy who now came running in. So inexorable to a remorseful +and suffering woman, and so full of consideration for a stranger's +child! + +"Almost well," pronounced the doctor, and lifted him on his knee. "Do +you know this child's parentage and condition?" he sharply inquired, +with a quick look toward me. + +I saw no reason for not telling the truth. + +"He is an orphan, and was destined for an institution." + +"You know this?" + +"Positively." + +"Then I shall keep the child. Harry, will you stay with me?" + +To my amazement, the little arms crept round his neck. A smile grim +enough, in my estimation, but not at all frightful to the child, +responded to this appeal. + +"I did not like the old man and woman," he said. + +Doctor Pool's whole manner showed triumph. "I shall treat him better +than I did you," he remarked. "I am a regenerate man now." + +I bowed; I was very uneasy; there was a question I wanted to ask and +could not in the presence of this child. + +"He is hardly of an age to take my place," I observed, still under the +spell of my surprise, for the child was handling the old man's long +beard, and seeming almost as happy as Gwendolen did in Mrs. Carew's +arms. + +"He will have one of his own," was the doctor's unexpected reply. + +I rose. I saw that he did not intend to dismiss the child. + +"I should like your word, in return for the relief I have undoubtedly +brought you, that you will not molest certain parties till the three +days are up which I have mentioned as the limit of my own silence." + +"Shall I give him my word, Harry?" + +The child, startled by the abrupt address, drew his fingers from the +long beard he was playfully stroking and, eyeing me with elfish gravity, +seemed to ponder the question as if some comprehension of its importance +had found entrance into his small brain. Annoyed at the doctor's whim, +yet trusting to the child's intuition, I waited with inner anxiety for +what those small lips would say, and felt an infinite relief, even if I +did not show it, when he finally uttered a faint "Yes," and hid his face +again on the doctor's breast. + +My last remembrance of them both was the picture they made as the doctor +closed the door upon me, with the sweet, confiding child still clasped +in his arms. + + + + +XXV + +THE WORK OF AN INSTANT + + +I did not take the car at the corner. I was sure that Jupp was somewhere +around, and I had a new mission for him of more importance than any he +could find here now. I was just looking about for him when I heard cries +and screams at my back, and, turning, saw several persons all running +one way. As that way was the one by which I had just come, I commenced +running too, and in another moment was one of a crowd collected before +the doctor's door. I mean the great front door which, to my +astonishment, I had already seen was wide open. The sight which there +met my eyes almost paralyzed me. + +Stretched on the pavement, spotted with blood, lay the two figures I had +seen within the last five minutes beaming with life and energy. The old +man was dead, the child dying, one little hand outstretched as if in +search of the sympathetic touch which had made the last few hours +perhaps the sweetest of his life. How had it happened? Was it suicide on +the doctor's part or just pure accident? Either way it was horrible, +but--I looked about me; there was a man ready to give explanations. He +had seen it all. The doctor had been racing with the child in the long +hall. He had opened the door, probably for air. A sudden dash of the +child had brought him to the verge, the doctor had plunged to save him, +and losing his balance toppled headlong to the street, carrying the +child with him. + +It was all the work of an instant. + +One moment two vigorous figures--the next, a mass of crushed humanity! + +A sight to stagger a man's soul! But the thought which came with it +staggered me still more. + +The force which had been driving Mrs. Ocumpaugh to her fate was removed. +Henceforth her secret was safe if--if I chose to have it so. + + + + +XXVI + +"HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE" + + +I was walking away when a man touched me. Some one had seen me come from +the doctor's office a few minutes before. Of course this meant detention +till the coroner should arrive. I quarreled with the circumstances but +felt forced to submit. Happily Jupp now came to the front and I was able +to send him to New York to keep that watch over Mrs. Carew, without +which I could not have rested quiet an hour. One great element of danger +was removed most remarkably, if not providentially, from the path I had +marked out for myself; but there still remained that of this woman's +possible impulses under her great determination to keep Gwendolen in her +own care. But with Jupp to watch the dock, and a man in plain clothes at +the door of the small hotel she was at present bound for, I thought I +might remain in Yonkers contentedly the whole day. + +It was not, however, till late the next afternoon that I found myself +again in Homewood. I had heard from Jupp. The steamer had sailed, but +without two passengers who had been booked for the voyage. Mrs. Carew +and the child were still at the address she had given me. All looked +well in that direction; but what was the aspect of affairs in Homewood? +I trembled in some anticipation of what these many hours of bitter +thought might have effected in Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Evidently nothing to +lessen the gloom into which the whole household had now fallen. Miss +Porter, who came in haste to greet me, wore the careworn look of a long +and unrelieved vigil. I was not astonished when she told me that she had +not slept a wink. + +"How could I," she asked, "when Mrs. Ocumpaugh did not close her eyes? +She did not even lie down, but sat all night in an arm-chair which she +had wheeled into Gwendolen's room, staring like one who sees nothing out +into the night through the window which overlooks the river. This +morning we can not make her speak. Her eyes are dry with fever; only now +and then she utters a little moan. The doctor says she will not live to +see her husband, unless something comes to rouse her. But the papers +give no news, and all the attempts of the police end in nothing. You saw +what a dismal failure their last attempt was. The child on which they +counted proved to be both red-haired and pock-marked. Gwendolen appears +to be lost, lost." + +In spite of the despair thus expressed my way seemed to open a little. + +"I think I can break Mrs. Ocumpaugh's dangerous apathy if you will let +me see her again. Will you let me try?" + +"The nurse--we have a nurse now--will not consent, I fear." + +"Then telephone to the doctor. Tell him I am the only man who can do +anything for Mrs. Ocumpaugh. This will not be an exaggeration." + +"Wait! I will get his order. I do not know why I have so much confidence +in you." + +In another fifteen minutes she came to lead me to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. + +I entered without knocking; they told me to. She was seated, as they +said, in a large chair, but with no ease to herself; for she was not +even leaning against its back, but sat with body strained forward and +eyes fixed on the ripple of the great river where, from what she had +intimated to me in our last interview, she probably saw her grave. There +was a miniature in her hand, but I saw at first glance that it was not +the face of Gwendolen over which her fingers closed so spasmodically. It +was her husband's portrait which she held, and it was his face, aroused +and full of denunciation, which she evidently saw in her fancy as I drew +nearer her in my efforts to attract her attention; for a shiver suddenly +contracted her lovely features and she threw her arms out as if to ward +from herself something which she had no power to meet. In doing this her +head turned slightly and she saw me. + +Instantly the spell under which she sat frozen yielded to a recognition +of something besides her own terrible brooding. She let her arms drop, +and the lips which had not spoken that morning moved slightly. I waited +respectfully. I saw that in another moment she would speak. + +"You have come," she panted out at last, "to hear my decision. It is +too soon. The steamer has twenty-four hours yet before it can make port. +I have not finished weighing my life against the good opinion of him I +live for." Then faintly--"Mrs. Carew has gone." + +"To New York," I finished. + +"No farther than that?" she asked anxiously. "She has not sailed?" + +"I did not see how it was compatible with my duty to let her." + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole form collapsed; the dangerous apathy was creeping +over her again. "You are deciding for me,"--she spoke very faintly--"you +and Doctor Pool." + +Should I tell her that Doctor Pool was dead? No, not yet. I wanted her +to choose the noble course for Mr. Ocumpaugh's sake--yes, and for her +own. + +"No," I ventured to rejoin. "You are the only one who can settle your +own fate. The word must come from you. I am only trying to make it +possible for you to meet your husband without any additional wrong to +blunt his possible forgiveness." + +"Oh, he will never forgive--and I have lost all." + +And the set look returned in its full force. + +I made my final attempt. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, we may never have another moment together in +confidence. There is one thing I have never told you, something which I +think you ought to know, as it may affect your whole future course. It +concerns Gwendolen's real mother. You say you do not know her." + +"No, no; do not bring up that. I do not want to know her. My darling is +happy with Mrs. Carew--too happy. O God! Give me no opportunity for +disturbing that contentment. Don't you see that I am consumed with +jealousy? That I might--" + +She was roused enough now, cheek and lip and brow were red; even her +eyes looked blood-shot. Alarmed, I put out my hand in a soothing +gesture, and when her voice stopped and her words trailed off into an +inarticulate murmur I made haste to say: + +"Listen to my little story. It will not add to your pain, rather +alleviate it. When I hid behind the curtain on that day we all regret, I +did not slip from my post at your departure. I knew that another patient +awaited the doctor's convenience in my own small room, where he had +hastily seated her when your carriage drove up. I also knew that this +patient had overheard what you said as well as I, for impervious as the +door looked I had often heard the doctor's mutterings when he thought I +was safe beyond ear-shot, if not asleep. And I wanted to see how she +would act when she rejoined the doctor; for I had heard a little of what +she had said before, and was quite aware that she could help you out of +your difficulty if she wished. She was a married woman, or rather had +been, but she had no use for a child, being very poor and anxious to +earn her own living. Would she embrace this opportunity to part with it +when it came? You may imagine my interest, boy though I was." + +"And did she? Was she--" + +"Yes. She was ready to make her compact with the doctor just as you had +done. Before she left everything was arranged for. It was her child you +took--reared--loved--and have now lost." + +At another time she might have resented these words, especially the +last; but I had roused her curiosity, her panting eager curiosity, and +she let them pass altogether unchallenged. + +"Did you see this woman? Was she of common blood, common manners? It +does not seem possible--Gwendolen is by nature so dainty in all her +ways." + +"The woman was a lady. I did not see her face, it was heavily veiled, +but I heard her voice; it was a lady's voice and--" + +"What?" + +"She wore beautiful jewels." + +"Jewels? You said she was poor." + +"So she declared herself, but she had on her neck under her coat a +string of beads which were both valuable and of exquisite workmanship. I +know, because it broke just as she was leaving, and the beads fell all +over the floor, and one rolled my way and I picked it up, scamp that I +was, when both their backs were turned in their search for the others." + +"A bead--a costly bead--and you were not found out?" + +"No, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, she never seemed to miss it. She was too excited +over what she had just done to count correctly. She thought she had +them all. But this has been in my pocket for six years. Perhaps you have +seen its like; I never have, in jeweler's shop or elsewhere, till +yesterday." + +"Yesterday?" Her great eyes, haggard with suffering, rose to mine, then +they fell on the bead which I had taken from my pocket. The cry she gave +was not loud, but it effectually settled all my doubts. + +"What did you know of Mrs. Carew before she came to ----?" I asked +impressively. + +For minutes she did not answer; she was trembling like a leaf. + +"Her mother!" she exclaimed at last. "Her mother! her own mother! And +she never hinted it to me by word or look. Oh, Valerie, Valerie, what +tortures we have both suffered! and now you are happy while I--" + +Grief seemed to engulf her. Feeling my position keenly, I walked to the +window, but soon turned and came back in response to her cry: "I must +see Mrs. Carew instantly. Give my orders. I will start at once to New +York. They will think I have gone to be on hand to meet Mr. Ocumpaugh, +and will say that I have not the strength. Override their objections. I +put my whole cause in your hands. You will go with me?" + +"With pleasure, madam." + +And thus was that terrifying apathy broken up, to be succeeded by a +spell of equally terrifying energy. + + + + +XXVII + +THE FINAL STRUGGLE + + +She, however, did not get off that night. I dared not push the matter to +the point of awakening suspicion, and when the doctor said that the ship +was not due for twenty hours and that it would be madness for her to +start without a night's rest and two or three good meals, I succumbed +and she also to the few hours' delay. More than that, she consented to +retire, and when I joined her in her carriage the following morning, it +was to find her physically stronger, even if the mind was still a prey +to deepest anguish and a torturing indecision. Her nurse accompanied us +and the maid called Celia, so conversation was impossible--a fact I did +not know whether to be thankful for or not. On the cars she was shielded +as much as possible from every one's gaze, and when we reached New York +we were driven at once to the Plaza. As I noticed the respect and +intense sympathy with which her presence was met by those who saw +nothing in her broken aspect but a mother's immeasurable grief, I +wondered at the secrets which lie deep down in the hearts of humanity, +and what the effect would be if I should suddenly shout aloud: + +"She is more wretched than you think. Her suspense is one that the +child's return would not appease. Dig deeper into mortal fear and woe if +you would know what has changed this beautiful woman into a shadow in +five days." + +And I myself did not know her mind. I could neither foresee what she +contemplated nor what the effect of seeing the child again would have +upon her. I only knew that she must never for a moment be out of sight +of some one who loved her. I myself never left the hall upon which her +room opened, a precaution for which I felt grateful when, late in the +evening, she opened the door and, seeing me, stepped out fully dressed +for the street. + +"Come and tell Sister Angelina that I may be trusted with you," she +said. Sister Angelina was the nurse. + +Of course I did as she bade me, and after some few more difficulties I +succeeded in getting her into a carriage without attracting any special +attention. Once there she breathed more easily, and so did I. + +"Now take me to _her_," she said. Whether she meant Mrs. Carew or +Gwendolen, I never knew. + +I now saw that the hour had come for telling her that she no longer need +have any fear of Doctor Pool. Whatever she contemplated must be done +with a true knowledge of where she stood and to just what extent her +secret remained endangered. I do not know if she felt grateful. I almost +think that for the first few minutes she felt rather frightened than +relieved to find herself free to act as her wishes and the preservation +of her place in her husband's heart and the world's regard impelled her. +For she never for a moment seemed to doubt that now the doctor was gone. +I would yield to her misery and prove myself the friend she had begged +me to be from the first. She turned herself toward me and sought to read +my face, but it was rather to find out what I expected of her than what +she had yet to fear from me. I noted this and muttered some words of +confidence; but her mood had already changed, and they fell on deaf +ears. + +I was not present at the meeting of the two women. That is, I remained +in what they would call a private parlor, while Mrs. Ocumpaugh passed +into the inner room, where she knew she would find Mrs. Carew and the +child. Nor did I hear much. Some words came through the partition. I +caught most of Mrs. Carew's explanation of how she came to give up her +new-born child. She was an actress at the time with a London success to +her credit, but with no hold as yet in this country. She was booked for +a tour the coming season; the husband who might have seen to the child +was dead; she had no friends, no relatives here save a brother poorer +than herself, and the mother instinct had not awakened. She bartered her +child away as she would have parted with any other encumbrance likely to +interfere with her career. But--here her voice rose and I heard +distinctly: "A fortune was suddenly left me. An old admirer dying abroad +bequeathed me two million dollars, and I found myself rich, admired and +independent, with no one on earth to care for or to share the happiness +of what seemed to me, after the brilliant life I had hitherto led, a +dreary inaction. Love had no interest for me. I had had a husband, and +that part of my nature had been satisfied. What I wanted now--and the +wish presently grew into a passion--was my child. From passion it grew +to mania. Knowing the name of her to whom I had yielded it (I had +overheard it in the doctor's office), I hunted up your residence and +came one day to Homewood. + +"Perhaps some old servant can be found there to-day who could tell you +of the strange, deeply veiled lady who was found one evening at sunset, +clinging to the gate with both hands and sobbing as she looked in at the +triumphant little heiress racing up and down the walks with the great +mastiff, Don. They will say that it was some poor crazy woman, or some +mother who had buried her own little darling; but it was I, Marion, it +was I, looking upon the child I had sold for a half-year's independence; +I who was broken-hearted now for her smiles and touches and saw them all +given to strangers, who had made her a princess, but who could never +give her such love as I felt for her then in my madness. I went away +that time, but I came again soon with the titles of the adjoining +property in my pocket. I could not keep away from the sight of her, and +felt that the torture would be less to see her in your arms than not to +see her at all." + +The answer was not audible, but I could well imagine what it was. As +every one knew, the false mother had not long held out against the +attractions of the true one. Instinct had drawn the little one to the +heart that beat responsive to its own. + +What followed I could best judge from the frightened cry which the child +suddenly gave. She had evidently waked to find both women at her +bedside. Mrs. Carew's "Hush! hush!" did not answer this time; the child +was in a frenzy, and evidently turned from one to the other, sobbing out +alternately, "I will not be a girl again. I like my horse and going to +papa and sailing on the big ocean, in trousers and a little cap," and +the softer phrases she evidently felt better suited to Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +deep distress: "Don't feel bad, mamma, you shall come see me some time. +Papa will send for you. I am going to him." Then silence, then such a +struggle of woman-heart with woman-heart as I hope never to be witness +to again. Mrs. Ocumpaugh was pleading with Mrs. Carew, not for the +child, but for her life. Mr. Ocumpaugh would be in port the next +morning; if she could show him the child all would be well. Mr. Trevitt +would manage the details; take the credit of having found Gwendolen +somewhere in this great city, and that would insure him the reward and +them his silence. (I heard this.) There was no one else to fear. Doctor +Pool, the cause of all this misery, was dead; and in the future, her +heart being set to rest about her secret, she would be happier and make +the child happier, and they could enjoy her between them, and she would +be unselfish and let Gwendolen spend an hour or more every day with Mrs. +Carew, on some such plea as lessons in vocal-training and music. + +Thus pleaded Mrs. Ocumpaugh. + +But the mother hardly listened. She had eaten with the child, slept with +the child and almost breathed with the child for three days now, and the +ecstasy of the experience had blinded her to any other claim than her +own. She pitied Mrs. Ocumpaugh, pitied most of all her deceived +husband, but no grief of theirs could equal that of Rachel crying for +her child. Let Mrs. Ocumpaugh remember that when the evil days come. She +had separated child from mother! child from mother! Oh, how the wail +swept through those two rooms! + +I dared not prophesy to myself at this point how this would end. I +simply waited. + +Their voices had sunk after each passionate outbreak, and I was only +able to catch now and then a word which told me that the struggle was +yet going on. + +But finally there came a lull, and while I wondered, the door flew +suddenly open and I saw Mrs. Ocumpaugh standing on the threshold, pallid +and stricken, looking back at the picture made by the other two as Mrs. +Carew, fallen on her knees by the bedside, held to her breast the +panting child. + +"I can not go against nature," said she. "Keep Gwendolen, and may God +have pity upon me and Philo." + +I stepped forward. Meeting my eye, she faltered this last word: + +"Your advice was good. To-morrow when I meet my husband I will tell him +who found the child and why that child is not at my side to greet him." + + * * * * * + +That night I had a vision. I saw a door--shut, ominous. Before that door +stood a woman, tall, pale, beautiful. She was there to enter, but to +what no mortal living could say. She saw nothing but loss and the +hollowness of a living death behind that closed door. + +But who knows? Angels spring up unknown on the darkest road, and +perhaps-- + +Here the vision broke; the day and its possibilities lay before me. + + +THE END + + + + +A LIST _of_ IMPORTANT FICTION +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY + + + + +A ROMANCE OF AMERICAN CHIVALRY + + * * * * * + +THE LAW +OF THE LAND + + +Of Miss Lady, whom it involved in mystery, and of +John Eddring, gentleman of the South, +who read its deeper meaning + + +By EMERSON HOUGH, Author of The Mississippi Bubble + + * * * * * + +Romantic, unhackneyed, imaginative, touched with humor, full of spirit +and dash. + + _Chicago Record Herald_ + +So virile, so strong, so full of the rare qualities of beauty and truth. + + _New York Press_ + +A powerful novel, vividly presented. The action is rapid and dramatic, +and the romance holds the reader with irresistible force. + + _Detroit Tribune_ + +Pre-eminently superior to any literary creation of the day. Its +naturalness places it on the plane of immortality. + + _New York American_ + + +Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +A THOROUGHBRED GIRL + + * * * * * + +ZELDA DAMERON + + +By MEREDITH NICHOLSON +Author of The Main Chance + + * * * * * + +Zelda Dameron is in all ways a splendid and successful story. There is +about it a sweetness, a wholesomeness and a sturdiness that will commend +it to earnest, kindly and wholesome people. + + _Boston Transcript_ + +The whole story is thoroughly American. It is lively and breezy +throughout--a graphic description of a phase of life in the Middle West. + + _Toledo Blade_ + +A love story of a peculiarly sweet and attractive sort,--the +interpretation of a girl's life, the revelation of a human heart. + + _New Orleans Picayune_ + + +With portraits of the characters in color +By John Cecil Clay + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +LOVE IN LIVERY + + * * * * * + +THE MAN +ON THE BOX + + +By HAROLD MACGRATH +Author of The Puppet Crown and The Grey Cloak + + * * * * * + +This is the brightest, most sparkling book of the season, crisp as a new +greenback, telling a most absorbing story in the most delightful way. +There never was a book which held the reader more fascinated. + + _Albany Times-Union_ + +The best novel of the year. + + _Seattle Post-Intelligencer_ + +Satire that stops short of caricature, humor that never descends to +burlesque, sentiment that is too wholesome and genuine to verge upon +sentimentality, these are reasons enough for liking The Man on the Box, +quite aside from the fact that it is a refreshing novelty in fiction. + + _New York Globe_ + + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +HEARTS, GOLD AND SPECULATION + + * * * * * + +BLACK FRIDAY + + +By FREDERIC S. ISHAM +Author of The Strollers and Under the Rose + + * * * * * + +There is much energy, much spirit, in this romance of the gold corner. +Distinctly an opulent and animated tale. + + _New York Sun_ + +Black Friday fascinates by its compelling force and grips by its human +intensity. No better or more absorbing novel has been published in a +decade. + + _Newark Advertiser_ + +The love story is handled with infinite skill. The pictures of "the +street" and its thrilling, pulsating life are given with rare power. + + _Boston Herald_ + + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +WANTED: +A COOK + + +BY ALAN DALE + + * * * * * + +An uproariously funny comedy-novel of a self-conscious couple in contact +with the servant question. Their ludicrous predicaments with their cooks +are described with a light, farcical quality and a satire that never +fail to entertain. + +"A good story well told. In every sentence a hearty laugh and many an +irrepressible chuckle of mirth." + + _New York American_ + + +Bound in decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.50 + + + + +FULL OF DAINTY CHARM + + * * * * * + +THE GIRL AND +THE KAISER + + +BY PAULINE BRADFORD MACKIE + + * * * * * + +"An amusing love story, which is certain to win instant favor. Fresh, +enthusiastic, and daintily lyrical." + + _Philadelphia Item_ + +"A charming little book, artistically made, is 'The Girl and the +Kaiser'; one that can be recommended for pleasing entertainment without +reserve." + + _St. Louis Globe-Democrat_ + +Here is a beautiful and delightfully seasonable volume that everybody +will want. The story is a bubbling romance of the German imperial court +with an American girl heroine. + + +Decorated and illustrated in color by +John Cecil Clay + +12mo, cloth, $1.50 + + + + +A STORY OF THE SIMPLE LIFE + + * * * * * + +THE +HAPPY AVERAGE + + +By BRAND WHITLOCK +Author of The 13th District and Her Infinite Variety + + * * * * * + +Mr. Whitlock has done more than simply repeat his earlier success. He +has achieved a new one. In The Happy Average he has voiced a deep-seated +human sympathy for the unheroic. + + _Life_ + +A most delightful romance that is as fresh as the flowers of May. + + _Pittsburg Leader_ + +As an example of a good, healthy, entertaining and human story, The +Happy Average must be given a place in the front rank. + + _Nashville American_ + +Not only the best book that has come from Mr. Whitlock's pen, but a +really noteworthy achievement in fiction. + + _Chicago Tribune_ + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +THE LIFE AND LOVES OF LORD BYRON + + * * * * * + +THE +CASTAWAY + + +"Three great men ruined in one year--a king, a cad and a +castaway."--_Byron_. + + +BY HALLIE ERMINIE RIVES +Author of Hearts Courageous + + * * * * * + +Lord Byron's personal beauty, his brilliancy, his genius, his possession +of a title, his love affairs, his death in a noble cause, all make him +the most magnetic figure in English literature. In Miss Rives's novel +the incidents of his career stand out in absorbing power and enthralling +force. + +The most profoundly sympathetic, vivid and true portrait of Byron ever +drawn. + + Calvin Dill Wilson, author of _Byron--Man and Poet_ + +Dramatic scenes, thrilling incidents, strenuous events follow one +another; pathos, revenge and passion; a strong love; and through all +these, under all these, is the poet, the man, George Gordon. + + _Grand Rapids Herald_ + + +With eight illustrations in color by +Howard Chandler Christy + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.00 everywhere + + + + +A BOOK TO MAKE THE SPHINX LAUGH + + * * * * * + +IN THE BISHOP'S +CARRIAGE + + +BY MIRIAM MICHELSON + + * * * * * + +From the moment when, in another girl's chinchilla coat, Nance Olden +jumps into the unknown carriage, and, snuggling up to the solemn owner, +calls him "Daddy," till she makes her final bow, a happy wife and a +triumphant actress, she holds your fancy captive and your heart in +thrall. + +If jaded novel readers want a new sensation, they will get it here. + + _Chicago Tribune_ + +For genuine, unaffected enjoyment, read the adventures of this dashing +desperado in petticoats. + + _Philadelphia Item_ + +It is beguiling, bewitching, bristling with originality; light enough +for the laziest invalid to rest his brain over, profound enough to serve +as a sermon to the humanitarian. + + _San Francisco Bulletin_ + + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +A ROMANCE OF THE DOLLAR MARK + + * * * * * + +THE COST + + +BY DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIPS +Author of Golden Fleece + + * * * * * + +A masterly novel, interesting to the point of fascination, analytic to +the point of keenness, thoroughly well written with complete +understanding, and entirely committed to advocacy of the best things in +life. + + Wallace Rice in _Chicago Examiner_ + +Rapid and vivid, sure and keen, light and graceful. + + _New York Times_ + +It is a story full of virile impulse. It treats of men of hardy +endeavor, battling for leadership in the world of commerce and politics. +If you want a novel that is intensely modern and intensely full of speed +and spirit, you have it in The Cost. + + Bailey Millard in _San Francisco Examiner_ + + +With sixteen illustrations by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +LOVE, POLITICS AND PELF + + * * * * * + +THE +GRAFTERS + + +BY FRANCIS LYNDE +Author of The Master of Appleby + + * * * * * + +One of the best examples of a new and distinctly American class of +fiction--the kind which finds romance and even sensational excitement in +business, politics, finance and law. + + _The Outlook_ + +Its sweeping sentences fire the blood like new wine. + + _Boston Post_ + +Telephone, telegraph, locomotive, skirl, click, thunder through the +pages in a way unprecedented in fiction. It is an amazingly modern book. + + _New York Times_ + +Virile, with the rugged strength of the West, The Grafters is like the +current of a deep river, vigorous and forceful. + + _Louisville Courier-Journal_ + + +Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +A GOOD DETECTIVE STORY + + * * * * * + +THE +FILIGREE BALL + + +By ANNA KATHERINE GREEN +Author of "The Leavenworth Case" + + * * * * * + +This is something more than a mere detective story; it is a thrilling +romance--a romance of mystery and crime where a shrewd detective helps +to solve the mystery. The plot is a novel and intricate one, carefully +worked out. There are constant accessions to the main mystery, so that +the reader can not possibly imagine the conclusion. The story is +clean-cut and wholesome, with a quality that might be called manly. The +characters are depicted so as to make a living impression. Cora Tuttle +is a fine creation, and the flash of love which she gives the hero is +wonderfully well done. Unlike many mystery stories The Filigree Ball is +not disappointing at the end. The characters most liked but longest +suspected are proved not only guiltless, but above suspicion. It is a +story to be read with a rush and at a sitting, for no one can put it +down until the mystery is solved. + + +Illustrated by C. M. Relyea + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +AN ANGEL OF THE TEXAS PLAINS + + * * * * * + +HULDAH + +Proprietor of the Wagon-Tire House and Genial +Philosopher of the Cattle Country + + +By ALICE MACGOWAN +and +GRACE MACGOWAN COOKE + + * * * * * + +A book that will brighten your hope, broaden your charity, and keep you +mellow with its humor. + + _Minneapolis Journal_ + +It is cram full of human nature. There is nobody like Aunt Huldah in any +other book, and it is a good thing that she got into this one. + + _Washington Times_ + +The book with its western breezes, homely philosophy, queer characters +and big hearts, is almost as exhilarating as the heroine must have been +herself. + + _Baltimore Herald_ + +Aunt Huldah is the kind of a woman loved by the whole world, and the +novel is the most attractive since the days of David Harum. + + _Indianapolis Star_ + + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + + For the man who can rejoice at a book that is not trivial; + For the man who feels the power of Egypt's marvelous past; + For the man who is stirred at heart by the great scenes of the Bible; + For the man who likes a story and knows when it is good. + + * * * * * + +THE YOKE + + +A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed +the Children of Israel from the +Bondage of Egypt + + * * * * * + +A theme that captures the imagination: Israel's deliverance from Egypt. + +Characters famous for all time: Moses, the Pharaoh, Prince Rameses. + +Scenes of natural and supernatural power; the finding of the signet, the +turning of the Nile into blood, the passage of the Red Sea. + +A background of brilliant color: the rich and varied life of Thebes and +Memphis. + +A plot of intricate interest: a love story of enduring beauty. Such is +"The Yoke." + + +Ornamental cloth binding. 626 pages + +Price $1.50 + + + + +ART AND ARIZONA + + * * * * * + +A GINGHAM +ROSE + + +By ALICE WOODS ULLMAN +Author of Edges + + * * * * * + +The author has a strange power of looking into the workings of her own +mind and heart, and of setting down what she finds there with freedom, +humor and justice. The result is "something new under the sun"--a book +with the tang of originality. Nothing could be more refreshing than this +story of a girl who turned a cad into a man and a man into a hero. + +Bizarre, fantastic, intensely individual, bright and interesting, with +characters that have a trick of saying and doing unexpected things. + + _Washington Times_ + +A remarkable book, sustained in power and interest, strong in its +characterization and picturesque in its treatment of life. It is human, +palpitating with reality, tensely alive. + + _Harper's Weekly_ + + +Frontispiece by the author + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +HER INFINITE VARIETY IS THE SPICE +OF LIFE + + * * * * * + +HER +INFINITE VARIETY + + +By BRAND WHITLOCK + + * * * * * + +Not a little of the attractiveness of Her Infinite Variety by Brand +Whitlock lies in its markedly handsome appearance. Howard Chandler +Christy's illustrations are among the best he has drawn, and are, +happily, quite numerous.--_Philadelphia Record._ + +Her Infinite Variety represents Mr. Brand Whitlock, the author, in +holiday mood. It is from first to last a clever little comedy, full of +delicious and unexpected satire, the whole thing handled with a blythe +spirit of irony.--_New York Globe._ + +The qualities which make up a good story are mingled in the most +alluring proportions in Her Infinite Variety, by Brand Whitlock. Its +humor is keen, sparkling and spontaneous.--_Boston Transcript._ + +Her Infinite Variety, by Brand Whitlock, is a delight to the eye, a +well-spring of mental recreation.--_Philadelphia North American._ + + +With 12 full-page illustrations +in photogravure by +Howard Chandler Christy + +12mo. Price $1.50 + + * * * * * + +The Bobbs-Merrill Company, _Indianapolis_ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE BABY*** + + +******* This file should be named 38347-8.txt or 38347-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/3/4/38347 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/38347-8.zip b/38347-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b141282 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-8.zip diff --git a/38347-h.zip b/38347-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ecaf7a --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h.zip diff --git a/38347-h/38347-h.htm b/38347-h/38347-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f36076 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/38347-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8768 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Millionaire Baby, by Anna Katharine Green</title> + <style type="text/css"> + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Millionaire Baby, by Anna Katharine +Green, Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Millionaire Baby</p> +<p>Author: Anna Katharine Green</p> +<p>Release Date: December 19, 2011 [eBook #38347]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE BABY***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by Annie R. McGuire<br /> + from page images generously made available by<br /> + Internet Archive<br /> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org">http://www.archive.org</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/millionairebaby00gree"> + http://www.archive.org/details/millionairebaby00gree</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 760px;"> +<img src="images/ill_001.jpg" width="380" height="600" alt="Book Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE MILLIONAIRE BABY</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 447px;"> +<img src="images/ill_002.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt=""I HAVE SAID SO MUCH THAT I MUST SAY MORE. LISTEN AND BE MY FRIEND." p. 288" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I HAVE SAID SO MUCH THAT I MUST SAY MORE. LISTEN AND BE MY FRIEND." <i>p. 288</i></span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>MILLIONAIRE BABY</h2> + +<h4><i>By</i></h4> + +<h3>ANNA KATHARINE GREEN</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Author of</i> The Filigree Ball,</p> + +<p class="center">The Leavenworth Case, Etc.</p> + +<h4><i>With Illustrations by</i></h4> + +<h3>ARTHUR I. KELLER</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>INDIANAPOLIS</h4> + +<h4>THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY</h4> + +<h4>PUBLISHERS</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright 1905</p> + +<p class="center">The Bobbs-Merrill Company</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#I"><b>I</b></a></td><td align='left'>Two Little Shoes</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#II"><b>II</b></a></td><td align='left'>"A Fearsome Man"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#III"><b>III</b></a></td><td align='left'>A Charming Woman</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#IV"><b>IV</b></a></td><td align='left'>Chalk-Marks</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#V"><b>V</b></a></td><td align='left'>The Old House in Yonkers</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VI"><b>VI</b></a></td><td align='left'>Doctor Pool</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VII"><b>VII</b></a></td><td align='left'>"Find the Child!"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VIII"><b>VIII</b></a></td><td align='left'>"Philo! Philo! Philo!"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#IX"><b>IX</b></a></td><td align='left'>The Bungalow</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#X"><b>X</b></a></td><td align='left'>Temptation</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XI"><b>XI</b></a></td><td align='left'>The Secret of the Old Pavilion</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XII"><b>XII</b></a></td><td align='left'>Behind the Wall</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XIII"><b>XIII</b></a></td><td align='left'>"We Shall Have to Begin Again"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XIV"><b>XIV</b></a></td><td align='left'>Espionage</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XV"><b>XV</b></a></td><td align='left'>A Phantasm</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XVI"><b>XVI</b></a></td><td align='left'>"An All-Conquering Beauty"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XVII"><b>XVII</b></a></td><td align='left'>In the Green Boudoir</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XVIII"><b>XVIII</b></a></td><td align='left'>"You Look As If—As If—"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XIX"><b>XIX</b></a></td><td align='left'>Frenzy</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XX"><b>XX</b></a></td><td align='left'>"What Do You Know?"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXI"><b>XXI</b></a></td><td align='left'>Providence</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXII"><b>XXII</b></a></td><td align='left'>On the Second Terrace</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXIII"><b>XXIII</b></a></td><td align='left'>A Coral Bead</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXIV"><b>XXIV</b></a></td><td align='left'>"Shall I Give Him My Word, Harry?"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXV"><b>XXV</b></a></td><td align='left'>The Work of an Instant</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXVI"><b>XXVI</b></a></td><td align='left'>"He Will Never Forgive"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#XXVII"><b>XXVII</b></a></td><td align='left'>The Final Struggle</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE MILLIONAIRE BABY</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<h3>TWO LITTLE SHOES</h3> + +<p>The morning of August eighteenth, 190-, was a memorable one to me. For +two months I had had a run of bad luck. During that time I had failed to +score in at least three affairs of unusual importance, and the result +was a decided loss in repute as well as great financial embarrassment. +As I had a mother and two sisters to support and knew but one way to do +it, I was in a state of profound discouragement. This was before I took +up the morning papers. After I had opened and read them, not a man in +New York could boast of higher hopes or greater confidence in his power +to rise by one bold stroke from threatened bankruptcy to immediate +independence.</p> + +<p>The paragraph which had occasioned this amazing change must have passed +under the eyes of many of you. It created a wide-spread<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> excitement at +the time and raised in more than one breast the hope of speedy fortune. +It was attached to, or rather introduced, the most startling feature of +the week, and it ran thus:</p> + +<h4>A FORTUNE FOR A CHILD.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>By cable from Southampton.</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A reward of five thousand dollars is offered, by Philo Ocumpaugh, +to whoever will give such information as will lead to the recovery, +alive or dead, of his six-year-old daughter, Gwendolen, missing +since the afternoon of August the 16th, from her home in +——on-the-Hudson, New York, U. S. A.</p> + +<p>Fifty thousand dollars additional and no questions asked if she is +restored unharmed within the week to her mother at Homewood.</p> + +<p>All communications to be addressed to Samuel Atwater, +——on-the-Hudson.</p></div> + +<p>A minute description of the child followed, but this did not interest +me, and I did not linger over it. The child was no stranger to me. I +knew her well and consequently was quite aware of her personal +characteristics. It was the great amount offered for her discovery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> and +restoration which moved me so deeply. Fifty thousand dollars! A fortune +for any man. More than a fortune to me, who stood in such need of ready +money. I was determined to win this extraordinary sum. I had my reason +for hope and, in the light of this unexpectedly munificent reward, +decided to waive all the considerations which had hitherto prevented me +from stirring in the matter.</p> + +<p>There were other reasons less selfish which gave impetus to my resolve. +I had done business for the Ocumpaughs before and been well treated in +the transaction. I recognized and understood both Mr. Ocumpaugh's +peculiarities and those of his admired and devoted wife. As man and +woman they were kindly, honorable and devoted to many more interests +than those connected with their own wealth. I also knew their hearts to +be wrapped up in this child,—the sole offspring of a long and happy +union, and the actual as well as prospective inheritor of more millions +than I shall ever see thousands, unless I am fortunate enough to solve +the mystery now exercising the sympathies of the whole New York public.</p> + +<p>You have all heard of this child under another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> name. From her birth she +has been known as the Millionaire Baby, being the direct heir to three +fortunes, two of which she had already received. I saw her first when +she was three years old—a cherubic little being, lovely to look upon +and possessing unusual qualities for so young a child. Indeed, her +picturesque beauty and appealing ways would have attracted all eyes and +won all hearts, even if she had not represented in her small person the +wealth both of the Ocumpaugh and Rathbone families. There was an +individuality about her, combined with sensibilities of no ordinary +nature, which, fully accounted for the devoted affection with which she +was universally regarded; and when she suddenly disappeared, it was easy +to comprehend, if one did not share, the thrill of horror which swept +from one end of our broad continent to the other. Those who knew the +parents, and those who did not, suffered an equal pang at the awful +thought of this petted innocent lost in the depths of the great unknown, +with only the false caresses of her abductors to comfort her for the +deprivation of all those delights which love and unlimited means could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +provide to make a child of her years supremely happy.</p> + +<p>Her father—and this was what gave the keen edge of horror to the whole +occurrence—was in Europe when she disappeared. He had been cabled at +once and his answer was the proffered reward with which I have opened +this history. An accompanying despatch to his distracted wife announced +his relinquishment of the project which had taken him abroad and his +immediate return on the next steamer sailing from Southampton. As this +chanced to be the fastest on the line, we had reason to expect him in +six days; meanwhile—</p> + +<p>But to complete my personal recapitulations. When the first news of this +startling abduction flashed upon my eyes from the bulletin boards, I +looked on the matter as one of too great magnitude to be dealt with by +any but the metropolitan police; but as time passed and further details +of the strange and seemingly inexplicable affair came to light, I began +to feel the stirring of the detective instinct within me (did I say that +I was connected with a private detective agency of some note in the +metropolis?) and a desire, quite apart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> from any mere humane interest in +the event itself, to locate the intelligence back of such a desperate +crime: an intelligence so keen that, up to the present moment, if we may +trust the published accounts of the affair, not a clue had been +unearthed by which its author could be traced, or the means employed for +carrying off this petted object of a thousand cares.</p> + +<p>To be sure, there was a theory which eliminated all crime from the +occurrence as well as the intervention of any one in the child's fate: +she might have strayed down to the river and been drowned. But the +probabilities were so opposed to this supposition, that the police had +refused to embrace it, although the mother had accepted it from the +first, and up to the present moment, or so it was stated, had refused to +consider any other. As she had some basis for this conclusion—I am +still quoting the papers, you understand—I was not disposed to ignore +it in the study I proceeded to make of the situation. The details, as I +ran them over in the hurried trip I now made up the river to ——, were +as follows:</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of Wednesday, August sixteenth, 190-, the guests +assembled in Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> Ocumpaugh's white and gold music-room were suddenly +thrown into confusion by the appearance among them of a young girl in a +state of great perturbation, who, running up to the startled hostess, +announced that Gwendolen, the petted darling of the house, was missing +from the bungalow where she had been lying asleep, and could not be +found, though a dozen men had been out on search.</p> + +<p>The wretched mother, who, as it afterward transpired, had not only given +the orders by which the child had been thus removed from the excitement +up at the house, but had actually been herself but a few moments before +to see that the little one was well cared for and happy, seemed struck +as by a mortal blow at these words and, uttering a heart-rending scream, +ran out on the lawn. A crowd of guests rushed after her, and as they +followed her flying figure across the lawn to the small copse in which +lay hidden this favored retreat, they could hear, borne back on the +wind, the wild protests of the young nurse, that she had left the child +for a minute only and then to go no farther than the bench running along +the end of the bungalow facing the house; that she had been told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> she +could sit there and listen to the music, but that she never would have +left the child's side for a minute if she had not supposed she would +hear her least stir—protests which the mother scarcely seemed to heed, +and which were presently lost in the deep silence which fell on all, as, +brought to a stand in the thick shrubbery surrounding the bungalow, they +saw the mother stagger up to the door, look in and turn toward them with +death in her face.</p> + +<p>"The river!" she gasped, "the river!" and heedless of all attempt to +stop her, heedless even of the efforts made by the little one's nurse to +draw her attention to the nearness of a certain opening in the high +hedge marking off the Ocumpaugh grounds on this side, she ran down the +bank in the direction of the railway, but fainted before she had more +than cleared the thicket. When they lifted her up, they all saw the +reason for this. She had come upon a little shoe which she held with +frantic clutch against her breast—her child's shoe, which, as she +afterward acknowledged, she had loosened with her own hand on the little +one's foot.</p> + +<p>Of course, after this the whole hillside was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> searched down to the fence +which separated it from the railroad track. But no further trace of the +missing child was found, nor did it appear possible to any one that she +could have strayed away in this direction. For not only was the bank +exceedingly steep and the fence at its base impassable, but a gang of +men, working as good fortune would have it, at such a point on the road +below as to render it next to impossible for her to have crossed the +track within a half-mile either way without being observed, had one and +all declared that not one of them had seen her or any other person +descend the slope.</p> + +<p>This, however, made but little impression on the mother. She would +listen to no hints of abduction, but persisted in her declaration that +the river had swallowed her darling, and would neither rest nor turn her +head from its waters till some half a dozen men about the place had been +set systematically to work to drag the stream.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the police had been notified and the whole town aroused. The +search, which had been carried on up to this time in a frantic but +desultory way, now became methodical.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> Nor was it confined to the +Ocumpaugh estate. All the roads and byways within half a mile either way +were covered by a most careful investigation. All the near-by houses +were entered, especially those which the child was most in the habit of +frequenting, but no one had seen her, nor could any trace of her +presence be found. At five o'clock all hope of her return was abandoned +and, much against Mrs. Ocumpaugh's wish, who declared that the news of +the child's death would affect her father far less than the dreadful +possibilities of an abduction, the exact facts of the case had been +cabled to Mr. Ocumpaugh.</p> + +<p>The night and another day passed, bringing but little relief to the +situation. Not an eye had as yet been closed in Homewood, nor had the +search ceased for an instant. Not an inch of the great estate had been +overlooked, yet men could still be seen beating the bushes and peering +into all the secluded spots which once had formed the charm of this +delightful place. As on the land, so on the river. All the waters in the +dock had been dragged, yet the work went on, some said under the very +eye of Mrs. Ocumpaugh. But there was no result as yet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the city the interest was intense. The telegraph at police +headquarters had been clicking incessantly for thirty-six hours under +the direction, some said, of the superintendent himself. Everything +which could be done had been done, but as yet the papers were able to +report nothing beyond some vague stories of a child, with its face very +much bound up, having been seen at the heels of a woman in the Grand +Central Station in New York, and hints of a covered wagon, with a crying +child inside, which had been driven through Westchester County at a +great pace shortly before sunset on the previous day, closely followed +by a buggy with the storm-apron up, though the sun shone and there was +not a cloud in the sky; but nothing definite, nothing which could give +hope to the distracted mother or do more than divide the attention of +the police between two different but equally tenable theories. Then came +the cablegram from Mr. Ocumpaugh, which threw amateur as well as +professional detectives into the field. Among the latter was myself; +which naturally brings me back once more to my own conclusions.</p> + +<p>Of one thing I felt sure. Very early in my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> cogitations, before we had +quitted the Park Avenue tunnel in fact, I had decided in my own mind +that if I were to succeed in locating the lost heiress, it must be by +subtler methods than lay open to the police. I was master of such +methods (in this case at least), and though one of many owning to +similar hopes on this very train which was rushing me through to +Homewood, I had no feeling but that of confidence in a final success. +How well founded this confidence was, will presently appear.</p> + +<p>The number of seedy-looking men with a mysterious air who alighted in my +company at —— station and immediately proceeded to make their way up +the steep street toward Homewood, warned me that it would soon be +extremely difficult for any one to obtain access to the parties most +interested in the child's loss. Had I not possessed the advantage of +being already known to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I should have immediately given +up all hope of ever obtaining access to her presence; and even with this +fact to back me, I approached the house with very little confidence in +my ability to win my way through the high iron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> gates I had so +frequently passed before without difficulty.</p> + +<p>And indeed I found them well guarded. As I came nearer, I could see man +after man being turned away, and not till my card had been handed in, +and a hurried note to boot, did I obtain permission to pass the first +boundary. Another note secured me admission to the house, but there my +progress stopped. Mrs. Ocumpaugh had already been interviewed by five +reporters and a special agent from the New York police. She could see no +one else at present. If, however, my business was of importance, an +opportunity would be given me to see Miss Porter. Miss Porter was her +companion and female factotum.</p> + +<p>As I had calculated upon having a half-dozen words with the mother +herself, I was greatly thrown out by this; but going upon the principle +that "half a loaf was better than no bread," I was about to express a +desire to see Miss Porter, when an incident occurred which effectually +changed my mind in this regard.</p> + +<p>The hall in which I was standing and which communicated with the side +door by which I had entered, ended in a staircase, leading, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> I had +reason to believe, to the smaller and less pretentious rooms in the rear +of the house. While I hesitated what reply to give the girl awaiting my +decision, I caught the sound of soft weeping from the top of this +staircase, and presently beheld the figure of a young woman coming +slowly down, clad in coat and hat and giving every evidence both in +dress and manner of leaving for good. It was Miss Graham, a young woman +who held the position of nursery-governess to the child. I had seen her +before, and had no small admiration for her, and the sensations I +experienced at the sight of her leaving the house where her services +were apparently no longer needed, proved to me, possibly for the first +time, that I had more heart in my breast than I had ever before +realized. But it was not this which led me to say to the maid standing +before me that I preferred to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself, and would call +early the next day. It was the thought that this sorrowing girl would +have to pass the gauntlet of many prying eyes on her way to the station +and that she might be glad of an escort whom she knew and had shown some +trust in. Also,—but the reasons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> behind that <i>also</i> will soon become +sufficiently apparent.</p> + +<p>I was right in supposing that my presence on the porch outside would be +a pleasing surprise to her. Though her tears continued to flow she +accepted my proffered companionship with gratitude, and soon we were +passing side by side across the lawn toward a short cut leading down the +bank to the small flag-station used by the family and by certain favored +neighbors. As we threaded the shrubbery, which is very thick about the +place, she explained to me the cause of her abrupt departure. The sight +of her, it seems, had become insupportable to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Though no +blame could be rightfully attached to her, it was certainly true that +the child had been carried off while in her charge, and however hard it +might be for <i>her</i>, few could blame the mother for wishing her removed +from the house desolated by her lack of vigilance. But she was a good +girl and felt the humiliation of her departure almost in the light of a +disgrace.</p> + +<p>As we came again into an open portion of the lawn, she stopped short and +looked back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh!" she cried, gripping me by the arm, "there is Mrs. Ocumpaugh still +at the window. All night she has stood there, except when she flew down +to the river at the sound of some imaginary call from the boats. She +believes, she really believes, that they will yet come upon Gwendolen's +body in the dock there."</p> + +<p>Following the direction of her glance, I looked up. Was that Mrs. +Ocumpaugh—that haggard, intent figure with eyes fixed in awful +expectancy on the sinister group I could picture to myself down at the +water's edge? Never could I have imagined such a look on features I had +always considered as cold as they were undeniably beautiful. As I took +in the misery it expressed, that awful waiting for an event momently +anticipated, and momently postponed, I found myself, without reason and +simply in response to the force of her expression, unconsciously sharing +her expectation, and with a momentary forgetfulness of all the +probabilities, was about to turn toward the spot upon which her glances +were fixed, when a touch on my arm recalled me to myself.</p> + +<p>"Come!" whispered my trembling companion. "She may look down and see us +here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>I yielded to her persuasion and turned away into the cluster of trees +that lay between us and that opening in the hedge through which our +course lay. Had I been alone I should not have budged till I had seen +some change—any change—in the face whose appearance had so deeply +affected me.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh certainly believes that the body of her child lies in +the water," I remarked, as we took our way onward as rapidly as +possible. "Do you know her reasons for this?"</p> + +<p>"She says, and I think she is right so far, that the child has been bent +for a long time on fishing; that she has heard her father talk +repeatedly of his great luck in Canada last year and wished to try the +sport for herself; that she has been forbidden to go to the river, but +must have taken the first opportunity when no eye was on her to do so; +and—and—Mrs. Ocumpaugh shows a bit of string which she found last +night in the bushes alongside the tracks when she ran down, as I have +said, at some imaginary shout from the boats—a string which she +declares she saw rolled up in Gwendolen's hand when she went into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +bungalow to look at her. Of course, it may not be the same, but Mrs. +Ocumpaugh thinks it is, and—"</p> + +<p>"Do you think it possible, after all, that the child did stray down to +the water?"</p> + +<p>"No," was the vehement disclaimer. "Gwendolen's feet were excessively +tender. She could not have taken three steps in only one shoe. I should +have heard her cry out."</p> + +<p>"What if she went in some one's arms?"</p> + +<p>"A stranger's? She had a decided instinct against strangers. Never could +any one she did not know and like have carried her so far as that +without her waking. Then those men on the track,—they would have seen +her. No, Mr. Trevitt, it was not in <i>that</i> direction she went."</p> + +<p>The force of her emphasis convinced me that she had an opinion of her +own in regard to this matter. Was it one she was ready to impart?</p> + +<p>"In what direction, then?" I asked, with a gentleness I hoped would +prove effective.</p> + +<p>Her impulse was toward a frank reply. I saw her lips part and her eyes +take on the look which precedes a direct avowal, but, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> chance would +have it, we came at that moment upon the thicket inclosing the bungalow, +and the sight of its picturesque walls, showing brown through the +verdure of the surrounding shrubbery, seemed to act as a check upon her, +for, with a quick look and a certain dry accent quite new in her speech, +she suddenly inquired if I did not want to see the place from which +Gwendolen had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Naturally I answered in the affirmative and followed her as she turned +aside into the circular path which embraces this hidden retreat; but I +had rather have heard her answer to my question, than to have gone +anywhere or seen anything at that moment. Yet, when in full view of the +bungalow's open door, she stopped to point out to me the nearness of the +place to that opening in the hedge we had just been making for, and when +she even went so far as to indicate the tangled little path by which +that opening could be reached directly from the farther end of the +bungalow, I considered that my question had been answered, though in +another way than I anticipated, even before I noted the slight flush +which rose to her cheek under my earnest scrutiny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>As it is important for the exact location of the bungalow to be +understood, I subjoin a diagram of this part of the grounds:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_003.jpg" width="400" height="224" alt="LAWN EXTENDING TO THE HIGHWAY. A The Ocumpaugh mansion. B The Bungalow. C Mrs. Carew's house. D Private +path. E Gap in hedge leading to the Ocumpaugh grounds. F Gap leading +into Mrs. Carew's grounds. G Bench at end of bungalow." title="" /> +<span class="caption">LAWN EXTENDING TO THE HIGHWAY.<br /><br />A The Ocumpaugh mansion. B The Bungalow. C Mrs. Carew's house. D Private +path. E Gap in hedge leading to the Ocumpaugh grounds. F Gap leading +into Mrs. Carew's grounds. G Bench at end of bungalow.</span> +</div> + +<p>As I took this all in, I ventured to ask some particulars of the family +living so near the Ocumpaughs.</p> + +<p>"Who occupies that house?" I asked, pointing to the sloping roofs and +ornamental chimneys<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> arising just beyond us over the hedge-rows.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is Mrs. Carew's home. She is a widow and Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +dearest friend. How she loved Gwendolen! How we all loved her! And now, +that <i>wretch</i>—"</p> + +<p>She burst into tears. They were genuine ones; so was her grief.</p> + +<p>I waited till she was calm again, then I inquired very softly:</p> + +<p>"What wretch?"</p> + +<p>"You have not been inside," she suggested, pointing sharply to the +bungalow.</p> + +<p>I took the implied rebuke and entered the door she indicated. A man was +sitting within, but he rose and went out when he saw us. He wore a +policeman's badge and evidently recognized her or possibly myself. I +noted, however, that he did not go far from the doorway.</p> + +<p>"It is only a den," remarked Miss Graham.</p> + +<p>I looked about me. She had described it perfectly: a place to lounge in +on an August day like the present. Walls of Georgia pine across one of +which hung a series of long dark rugs; a long, low window looking toward +the house, and a few articles of bamboo furniture describe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> the place. +Among the latter was a couch. It was drawn up underneath the window, on +the other side of which ran the bench where my companion declared she +had been sitting while listening to the music.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you think my attention would have been caught by the sound of +any one moving about here?" she cried, pointing to the couch and then to +the window. "But the window was closed and the door, as you see, is +round the corner from the bench."</p> + +<p>"A person with a very stealthy step, apparently."</p> + +<p>"Very," she admitted. "Oh, how can I ever forgive myself! how can I +ever, ever forgive myself!"</p> + +<p>As she stood wringing her hands in sight of that empty couch, I cast a +scrutinizing glance about me, which led me to remark:</p> + +<p>"This interior looks new; much newer than the outside. It has quite a +modern air."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the bungalow is old, very old; but this room, or den, or whatever +you might call it, was all remodeled and fitted up as you see it now +when the new house went up. It had long been abandoned as a place of +retreat, and had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> fallen into such decay that it was a perfect eyesore +to all who saw it. Now it is likely to be abandoned again, and for what +a reason! Oh, the dreadful place! How I hate it, now Gwendolen is gone!"</p> + +<p>"One moment. I notice another thing. This room does not occupy the whole +of the bungalow."</p> + +<p>Either she did not hear me or thought it unnecessary to reply; and +perceiving that her grief had now given way to an impatience to be gone, +I did not press the matter, but led the way myself to the door. As we +entered the little path which runs directly to that outlet in the hedge +marked E, I ventured to speak again:</p> + +<p>"You have reasons, or so it appears, for believing that the child was +carried off through this very path?"</p> + +<p>The reply was impetuous:</p> + +<p>"How else could she have been spirited away so quickly? Besides,—" here +her eye stole back at me over her shoulder,—"I have since remembered +that as I ran out of the bungalow in my fright at finding the child +gone, I heard the sound of wheels on Mrs. Carew's driveway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> It did not +mean much to me then, for I expected to find the child somewhere about +the grounds; but <i>now</i>, when I come to think, it means everything, for a +child's cry mingled with it (or I imagined that it did) and that +child—"</p> + +<p>"But," I forcibly interposed, "the police should know this."</p> + +<p>"They do; and so does Mrs. Ocumpaugh; but she has only the one idea, and +nothing can move her."</p> + +<p>I remembered the wagon with the crying child inside which had been seen +on the roads the previous evening, and my heart fell a little in spite +of myself.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't Mrs. Carew tell us something about this?" I asked, with a +gesture toward the house we were now passing.</p> + +<p>"No. Mrs. Carew went to New York that morning and had only just returned +when we missed Gwendolen. She had been for her little nephew, who has +lately been made an orphan, and she was too busy making him feel at home +to notice if a carriage had passed through her grounds."</p> + +<p>"Her servants then?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She had none. All had been sent away. The house was quite empty."</p> + +<p>I thought this rather odd, but having at this moment reached the long +flight of steps leading down the embankment, I made no reply till we +reached the foot. Then I observed:</p> + +<p>"I thought Mrs. Carew was very intimate with Mrs. Ocumpaugh."</p> + +<p>"She is; they are more like sisters than mere friends."</p> + +<p>"Yet she goes to New York the very day her friend gives a musicale."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she had good reasons for that. Mrs. Carew is planning to sail this +week for Europe, and this was her only opportunity for getting her +little nephew, who is to go with her. But I don't know as she will sail, +now. She is wild with grief over Gwendolen's loss, and will not feel +like leaving Mrs. Ocumpaugh till she knows whether we shall ever see the +dear child again. But, I shall miss my train."</p> + +<p>Here her step visibly hastened.</p> + +<p>As it was really very nearly due, I had not the heart to detain her. But +as I followed in her wake I noticed that for all her hurry a curious +hesitancy crept into her step at times,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> and I should not have been +surprised at any moment to see her stop and confront me on one of the +two remaining long flights of steps leading down the steep hillside.</p> + +<p>But we both reached the base without her having yielded to this impulse, +and presently we found ourselves in full view of the river and the small +flag-station located but a few rods away toward the left. As we turned +toward the latter, we both cast an involuntary look back at the +Ocumpaugh dock, where a dozen men could be seen at work dragging the +river-bed with grappling irons. It made a sadly suggestive picture, and +the young girl at my side shuddered violently as we noted the expression +of morbid curiosity on the faces of such onlookers, men and women, as +were drawn up at the end of the small point on which the boat-house +stood.</p> + +<p>But I had another reason than this for urging her on. I had noticed how, +at the sight of her slight figure descending the slope, some half-dozen +men or so had separated themselves from this group, with every +appearance of intending to waylay and question her. She noticed this +too, and drawing up more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> closely to my side, exclaimed with marked +feeling:</p> + +<p>"Save me from these men and I will tell you something that no one—"</p> + +<p>But here she stopped, here our very thoughts stopped. A shout had risen +from the group at the water-edge; a shout which made us both turn, and +even caused the men who had started to follow us to wheel about and rush +back to the dock with every appearance of intense excitement.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What can it be?" faltered my greatly-alarmed companion.</p> + +<p>"They have found something. See! what is that the man in the boat is +holding up? It looks like—"</p> + +<p>But she was already half-way to the point, outstripping the very men +whose importunities she had shrunk from a moment before. I was not far +behind her, and almost immediately we found ourselves wedged among the +agitated group leaning over the little object which had been tossed +ashore into the first hand outstretched to receive it.</p> + +<p>It was a second little shoe—filled with sand and dripping with water, +but recognizable as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> similar to the one already found on the preceding +day high up on the bank. As this fact was borne in on us all, a groan of +pity broke from more than one pair of lips, and eye after eye stole up +the hillside to that far window in the great pile above us where the +mother's form could be dimly discerned swaying in an agitation caught +from our own excitement.</p> + +<p>But there was one amongst us whose glance never left that little shoe. +The train she had been so anxious to take whistled and went thundering +by, but she never moved or noticed. Suddenly she reached out her hand.</p> + +<p>"Let me see it, please," she entreated. "I was her nurse; let me take it +in my hand."</p> + +<p>The man who held it passed it over. She examined it long and closely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is hers," said she. But in another moment she had laid it down +with what I thought was a very peculiar look.</p> + +<p>Instantly it was caught up and carried with a rush up the slope to where +Mrs. Ocumpaugh could be seen awaiting it with outstretched arms. But I +did not linger to mark her reception of it. Miss Graham had drawn me to +one side and was whispering in my ear:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I must talk to you. I can not keep back another moment what I think or +what I feel. Some one is playing with Mrs. Ocumpaugh's fears. That shoe +is Gwendolen's, but it is not the mate of the one found on the bank +above. That was for the left foot <i>and so is this one</i>. Did you not +notice?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>"A FEARSOME MAN"</h3> + +<p>The effect of this statement upon me was greater than even she had +contemplated.</p> + +<p>"You thought the child had been stolen for the reward she would bring?" +she continued. "She was not; she was taken out of pure hate, and that is +why I suffer so. What may they not do to her! In what hole hide her! My +darling, O my darling!"</p> + +<p>She was going off into hysterics, but the look and touch I gave her +recalled her to herself.</p> + +<p>"We need to be calm," I urged. "You, because you have something of +importance to impart, and I, because of the action I must take as soon +as the facts you have concealed become known to me. What gives you such +confidence in this belief, which I am sure is not shared by the police, +and who is the <i>some one</i> who, as you say, is playing upon Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's fears? A short time ago it was as <i>the wretch</i> you spoke of +him. Are not <i>some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> one</i> and <i>the wretch</i> one and the same person, and +can you not give him now a name?"</p> + +<p>We had been moving all this time in the direction of the station and had +now reached the foot of the platform. Pausing, she cast a last look up +the bank. The trees were thick and hid from our view the Ocumpaugh +mansion, but in imagination she beheld the mother moaning over that +little shoe.</p> + +<p>"I shall never return there," she muttered; "why do I hesitate so to +speak!" Then in a burst, as I watched her in growing excitement: +"She—Mrs. Ocumpaugh—begged me not to tell what she believed had +nothing to do with our Gwendolen's loss. But I can not keep silence. +This proof of a conspiracy against herself certainly relieves me from +any promise I may have made her. Mr. Trevitt, I am positive that I know +who carried off Gwendolen."</p> + +<p>This was becoming interesting, intensely interesting to me. Glancing +about and noting that the group down at the water-edge had become +absorbed again in renewed efforts toward farther discoveries, I beckoned +her to follow me into the station. It was but a step, but it gave me +time to think. What was I encouraging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> this young girl to do? To reveal +to <i>me</i>, who had no claim upon her but that of friendship, a secret +which had not been given to the police? True, it might not be worth +much, but it was also true that it might be worth a great deal. Did she +know how much? I wanted money—few wanted it more—but I felt that I +could not listen to her story till I had fairly settled this point. I +therefore hastened to interpose a remark:</p> + +<p>"Miss Graham, you are good enough to offer to reveal some fact hitherto +concealed. Do you do this because you have no closer friend than myself, +or because you do not know what such knowledge may be worth to the +person you give it to—in money, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"In money? I am not thinking of money," was her amazed reply; "I am +thinking of Gwendolen."</p> + +<p>"I understand, but you should think of the practical results as well. +Have you not heard of the enormous reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>"No; I—"</p> + +<p>"Five thousand dollars for information; and fifty thousand to the one +who will bring her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> back within the week unharmed. Mr. Ocumpaugh cabled +to that effect yesterday."</p> + +<p>"It is a large sum," she faltered, and for a moment she hesitated. Then, +with a sweet and candid look which sank deep into my heart, she added +gravely: "I had rather not think of money in connection with Gwendolen. +If what I have to tell leads to her recovery, you can be trusted, I +know, to do what is right toward me. Mr. Trevitt, the man who stole her +from her couch and carried her away through Mrs. Carew's grounds in a +wagon or otherwise, is a long-haired, heavily whiskered man of sixty or +more years of age. His face is deeply wrinkled, but chiefly marked by a +long scar running down between his eyebrows, which are so shaggy that +they would quite hide his eyes if they were not lit up with an +extraordinary expression of resolution, carried almost to the point of +frenzy; a fearsome man, making your heart stand still when he pauses to +speak to you."</p> + +<p>Startled as I had seldom been, for reasons which will hereafter appear, +I surveyed her in mingled wonder and satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"His name?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"I do not know his name."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>Again I stopped to look at her.</p> + +<p>"Does Mrs. Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think so. She only knows what I told her."</p> + +<p>"And what did you tell her?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! who are these?"</p> + +<p>Two or three persons had entered the station, probably to wait for the +next train.</p> + +<p>"No one who will molest you."</p> + +<p>But she was not content till we had withdrawn to where the time-table +hung up on the opposite wall. Turning about as if to consult it, she +told the following story. I never see a time-table now but I think of +her expression as she stood there looking up as if her mind were fixed +on what she probably did not see at all.</p> + +<p>"Last Wednesday—no, it was on the Wednesday preceding—I was taking a +ride with Gwendolen on one of the side roads branching off toward +Fordham. We were in her own little pony cart, and as we seldom rode +together like this, she had been chattering about a hundred things till +her eyes danced in her head and she looked as lovely as I had ever seen +her. But suddenly, just as we were about to cross a small wooden bridge, +I saw her turn pale and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> whole sensitive form quiver. 'Some one I +don't like,' she cried. 'There is some one about whom I don't like. +Drive on, Ellie, drive on.' But before I could gather up the reins a +figure which I had not noticed before stepped from behind a tree at the +farther end of the bridge, and advancing into the middle of the road +with arms thrown out, stopped our advance. I have told you how he +looked, but I can give you no idea of the passionate fury lighting up +his eyes, or the fiery dignity with which he held his place and kept us +subdued to his will till he had looked the shrinking child all over, and +laughed, not as a madman laughs, oh, much too slow and ironically for +that! but like one who takes an unholy pleasure in mocking the happy +present with evil prophecy. Nothing that I can say will make you see him +as I saw him in that one instant, and though there was much in the +circumstance to cause fear, I think it was more awe than fright we felt, +so commanding was his whole appearance and so forcible the assurance +with which he held us there till he was ready to move. Gwendolen cried +out, but the imploring sound had no effect upon him; it only reawakened +his mirth and led him to say, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> a clear, cold, mocking tone which I +hear yet, 'Cry out, little one, for your short day is nearly over. Silks +and feathers and carriages and servants will soon be a half-forgotten +memory to you; and right it is that it should be so. Ten days, little +one, only ten days more.' And with that he moved, and, slipping aside +behind the tree, allowed us to drive on. Mr. Trevitt, yesterday saw the +end of those ten days, and where is she now? Only that man knows. He is +one man in a thousand. Can not you find him?"</p> + +<p>She turned; a train was coming, a train which it was very evident she +felt it her duty to take. I had no right to detain her, but I found time +for a question or two.</p> + +<p>"And you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh this?"</p> + +<p>"The moment we arrived home."</p> + +<p>"And she? What did she think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh is not a talkative woman. She grew very white and +clasped the child passionately in her arms. But the next minute she had +to all appearance dismissed the whole occurrence from her thoughts. +'Some socialistic fanatic,' she called him and merely advised me to stop +driving with Gwendolen for the present."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Didn't you recall the matter to her when you found the child missing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but then she appeared to regard it in a superstitious way only. It +was a warning of death, she said, and the man an irresponsible +clairvoyant. When I tried to urge my own idea upon her and describe how +I thought he might have obtained access to the bungalow and carried her +off, while still asleep, to some vehicle awaiting them in Mrs. Carew's +grounds, she only rebuked me for my folly and bade me keep still about +the whole occurrence, saying that I should only be getting some poor +half-demented old wretch into trouble for something for which he was not +in the least responsible."</p> + +<p>"A very considerate woman," I remarked; to which Miss Graham made reply +as the train came storming up:</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows how considerate, even if she has dismissed me rather +suddenly from her service. Don't let that wretch"—again she used the +word—"deceive her or you into thinking that the little one perished in +the water. Gwendolen is alive, I say. Find him and you will find her. I +saw his resolution in his eye."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here she made a rush for the cars, and I had time only to get her future +address before the train started and all further opportunity of +conversation between us was over for that day.</p> + +<p>I remained behind because I was by no means through with my +investigations. What she had told me only convinced me of the necessity +I had already recognized of making myself master of all that could be +learned at Homewood before undertaking the very serious business of +locating the child or even the aged man just described to me, and who I +was now sure had been the chief, if not the sole, instrument in her +abduction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>A CHARMING WOMAN</h3> + +<p>Stopping only long enough to send a telegram to my partner in New York, +(for which purpose I had to walk along the tracks to the main station) I +returned by the short cut to Homewood. My purpose in doing this was +twofold. I should have a chance of seeing if the men were still at work +in the river, and I should also have the added opportunity of quietly +revisiting the bungalow, on the floor of which I had noted some +chalk-marks, which I felt called for a closer examination than I had +given them. As I came in view of the dock, I saw that the men were still +busy, but at a point farther out in the river, as if all hope had been +abandoned of their discovering anything more inshore. But the +chalk-marks in the bungalow were almost forgotten by me in the interest +I experienced in a certain adventure which befell me on my way there.</p> + +<p>I had just reached the opening in the hedge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> communicating with Mrs. +Carew's grounds, when I heard steps on the walk inside and a woman's +rich voice saying:</p> + +<p>"There, that will do. You must play on the other side of the house, +Harry. And Dinah, see that he does so, and that he does not cross the +hall again till I come back. The sight of so merry a child might kill +Mrs. Ocumpaugh if she happened to look this way."</p> + +<p>Moved by the tone, which was one in a thousand, I involuntarily peered +through the outlet I was passing, in the hope of catching a glimpse of +its owner, and thus was favored with the sight of a face which instantly +fixed itself in my memory as one of the most enchanting I had ever +encountered. Not from its beauty, yet it may have been beautiful; nor +from its youth, for the woman before me was not youthful, but from the +extraordinary eloquence of its expression caught at a rare moment when +the heart, which gave it life, was full. She was standing half-way down +the path, throwing kisses to a little boy who was leaning toward her +from an upper window. The child was laughing with glee, and it was this +laugh she was trying to check; but her countenance, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> she made the +effort, was almost as merry as his, and yet was filled with such solemn +joy—such ecstasy of motherhood I should be inclined to call it, if I +had not been conscious that this must be Mrs. Carew and the child her +little nephew—that in my admiration for this exhibition of pure +feeling, I forgot to move on as she advanced into the hedge-row, and so +we came face to face. The result was as extraordinary to me as all the +rest. Instantly all the gay abandonment left her features, and she +showed me a grave, almost troubled, countenance, more in keeping with +her severe dress, which was as nearly like mourning as it could be and +not be made of crape.</p> + +<p>It was such a sudden change and of so complete a character, that I was +thrown off my guard for a moment and probably betrayed the curiosity I +undoubtedly felt; for she paused as she reached me, and, surveying me +very quietly but very scrutinizingly too, raised again that marvelous +voice of hers and pointedly observed:</p> + +<p>"This is a private path, sir. Only the friends of Mrs. Ocumpaugh or of +myself pass here."</p> + +<p>This was a speech calculated to restore my self-possession. With a bow +which evidently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> surprised her, I answered with just enough respect to +temper my apparent presumption:</p> + +<p>"I am here in the interests of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, to assist her in finding +her child. Moments are precious; so I ventured to approach by the +shorter way."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me!" The words did not come instantly, but after some +hesitation, during which she kept her eyes on my face in a way to rob me +of all thought save that she possessed a very strong magnetic quality, +to which it were well for a man like myself to yield. "You will be my +friend, too, if you succeed in restoring Gwendolen." Then quickly, as +she crossed to the Ocumpaugh grounds: "You do not look like a member of +the police. Are you here at Mrs. Ocumpaugh's bidding, and has she at +last given up all expectation of finding her child in the river?"</p> + +<p>I, too, thought a minute before answering, then I put on my most candid +expression, for was not this woman on her way to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and +would she not be likely to repeat what she heard me say?</p> + +<p>"I do not know how Mrs. Ocumpaugh feels at present. But I know what her +dearest wish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> is—to see her child again alive and well. That wish I +shall do my best to gratify. It is true that I am not a police +detective, but I have an agency of my own, well-known to both Mrs. and +Mr. Ocumpaugh. All its resources will be devoted to this business and I +hope to succeed, madam. If, as I suspect, you are on your way to Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, please tell her that Robert Trevitt, of Trevitt and Jupp, +hopes to succeed."</p> + +<p>"I <i>will</i>," she emphasized. Then stepping back to me in all the grace of +her thrilling personality, she eagerly added: "If there is any +information I can give, do not be afraid to ask me. I love children, and +would give anything in the world to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh as happy with +Gwendolen again as I am with my little nephew. Are you quite sure that +there is any possibility of this? I was told that the child's shoe has +been found in the river; but almost immediately following this +information came the report that there was something odd about this +shoe, and that Mrs. Ocumpaugh had gone into hysterics. Do <i>you</i> know +what they meant by that? I was just going over to see."</p> + +<p>I did know what they meant, but I preferred to seem ignorant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have not seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I evasively rejoined. "But <i>I</i> don't +look for the child to be drawn from the water."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," she repeated, with a hoarse catch in her breath. "It is +thirty-six hours since we lost her. Time enough for the current to have +carried her sweet little body far away from here."</p> + +<p>I surveyed the lady before me in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Then <i>you</i> think she strayed down to the water?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it would madden me to believe otherwise; loving her so well, and +her parents so well, I dare not think of a worse fate."</p> + +<p>Taking advantage of her amiability and the unexpected opportunity it +offered for a leading question, I hereupon ventured to say: "You were +not at home, I hear, when she vanished from the bungalow."</p> + +<p>"No; that is, if it happened before three o'clock. I arrived from the +station just as the clock was striking the hour, and having my little +nephew with me, I was too much occupied in reconciling him to his new +home, to hear or see anything outside. Most unfortunate!" she mourned, +"most unfortunate! I shall never cease<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> reproaching myself. A tragedy at +my door"—here she glanced across the shrubbery at the bungalow—"and I +occupied with my own affairs!"</p> + +<p>With a flush, the undoubted result of her own earnestness, she turned as +if to go. But I could not let her depart without another question:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Mrs. Carew, but you gave me permission to seem importunate. +With the exception of her nurse, you were the one person nearest the +bungalow at the time. Didn't you hear a carriage drive through your +grounds at about the hour the alarm was first started? I know you have +been asked this before, but not by me; and it is a very important fact +to have settled; very important for those who wish to discover this +child at once."</p> + +<p>For reply she gave me a look of very honest amazement.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did," she replied. "I came in a carriage myself from the +station and naturally heard it drive away."</p> + +<p>At her look, at her word, the thread which I had seized with such +avidity seemed to slip from my fingers. Had little Miss Graham's theory +no better foundation than this? and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> were the wheels she heard only +those of Mrs. Carew's departing carriage? I resolved to press the matter +even if I ran the risk of displeasing her.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carew—for it must be Mrs. Carew I am addressing—did your little +nephew cry when you first brought him to the house?"</p> + +<p>"I think he did," she admitted slowly; "I think he did."</p> + +<p>I must have given evidence of the sudden discouragement this brought me, +for her lips parted and her whole frame trembled with sudden +earnestness.</p> + +<p>"Did you think—did any one think—that those cries came from Gwendolen? +That she was carried out through my grounds? Could any one have thought +that?"</p> + +<p>"I have been told that the nursery-governess did."</p> + +<p>"Little Miss Graham? Poor girl! she is but defending herself from +despair. She is ready to believe everything but that the child is dead."</p> + +<p>Was it so? Was I following the false light of a will-o'-the-wisp? No, +no; the strange coincidence of the threat made on the bridge with the +disappearance of the child on the day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> named, was at least real. The +thread had not altogether escaped from my hands. It was less tangible, +but it was still there.</p> + +<p>"You may be right," I acquiesced, for I saw that her theories were +entirely opposed to those of Miss Graham. "But we must try everything, +<i>everything</i>."</p> + +<p>I was about to ask whether she had ever seen in the adjoining grounds, +or on the roads about, an old man with long hair and a remarkable scar +running down between his eyebrows, when a young girl in the cap and +apron of a maid-servant came running through the shrubbery from the +Ocumpaugh house, and, seeing Mrs. Carew, panted out:</p> + +<p>"Oh, do come over to the house, Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Ocumpaugh has been told +that the two shoes which have been found, one on the bank and the other +in the river, are not mates, and it has quite distracted her. She has +gone to her room and will let no one else in. We can hear her moaning +and crying, but we can do nothing. Perhaps she will see you. She called +for you, I know, before she shut her door."</p> + +<p>"I will go." Mrs. Carew had turned quite pale, and from standing upright +in the road,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> had moved so as to gain support from one of the hedges.</p> + +<p>I expected to see her turn and go as soon as her trembling fit was over, +but she did not, though she waved the girl away as if she intended to +follow her. Had I not learned to distrust my own impression of people's +motives from their manners and conduct, I should have said that she was +waiting for me to precede her.</p> + +<p>"Two shoes and not mates!" she finally exclaimed. "What does she mean?"</p> + +<p>"Simply that another shoe has been drawn up from the river-bottom which +does not mate the one picked up near the bungalow. Both are for the left +foot."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" gasped this sympathetic woman. "And what inference can we draw +from that?"</p> + +<p>I should not have answered her; but the command in her eyes or the +thrilling effect of her manner compelled me, and I spoke the truth at +once, just as I might have done to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, or, better still, to +Mr. Ocumpaugh, if either had insisted.</p> + +<p>"But one," said I. "There is a conspiracy on the part of one or more +persons to delude Mrs. Ocumpaugh into believing the child dead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> They +blundered over it, but they came very near succeeding."</p> + +<p>"Who blundered, and what is the meaning of the conspiracy you hint at? +Tell me. Tell me what such men as you think."</p> + +<p>Her plastic features had again shown a change. She was all anxiety now; +cheeks burning, eyes blazing—a very beautiful woman.</p> + +<p>"We think that the case looks serious. We think from the very mystery it +displays, that there is a keen intelligence back of this crime. I can +not go any further than that. The affair is as yet too obscure."</p> + +<p>"You amaze me!" she faltered, making an effort to collect her thoughts. +"I have always thought, just as Mrs. Ocumpaugh has, that the child had +somehow found her way to the water and was drowned. But if all this is +true we shall have to face a worse evil. A conspiracy against such a +tender little being as that! A conspiracy, and for what? Not to extort +money, or why these blundering efforts to make the child appear dead?"</p> + +<p>She was the same sympathetic woman, agitated by real feeling as before, +yet at this moment—I do not understand now just why—I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> became aware of +an inner movement of caution against too great a display of candor on my +own part.</p> + +<p>"Madam, it is all a mystery at present. I am sure that the police will +tell you the same. But another day may bring developments."</p> + +<p>"Let us hope so!" was her ardent reply, accompanied by a gesture, the +freedom of which suited her style and person as it would not have done +those of a less impressionable woman. And, seeing that I had no +intention of leaving the spot where I stood, she moved at last from +where she held herself upright against the hedge, and entered the +Ocumpaugh grounds. "Will you call in to see me to-morrow?" she asked, +pausing to look back at a turn in the path. "I shall not sleep to-night +for thinking of those possible developments."</p> + +<p>"Since you permit me," I returned; "that is, if I am still here. Affairs +may call me away at any moment."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and so with me. Affairs may call me away also. I was to sail on +Saturday for Liverpool. Only Mrs. Ocumpaugh's distress detains me. If +the situation lightens, if we hear any good news to-night, or even early +to-morrow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> I shall continue my preparations, which will take me again +to New York."</p> + +<p>"I will call if you are at home."</p> + +<p>She gave me a slight nod and vanished.</p> + +<p>Why did I stand a good three minutes where she had left me, thinking, +but not getting anything from my thoughts, save that I was glad that I +had not been betrayed into speaking of the old man Miss Graham had met +on the bridge? Yet it might have been well, after all, if I had done so, +if only to discover whether Mrs. Ocumpaugh had confided this occurrence +to her most intimate friend.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>CHALK-MARKS</h3> + +<p>My next move was toward the bungalow. Those chalk-marks still struck me +as being worthy of investigation, and not only they, but the bungalow +itself. That certainly merited a much closer inspection than I had been +able to give it under Miss Graham's eye.</p> + +<p>It was not quite a new place to me, nor was I so ignorant of its history +(and it had a history) as I had appeared to be in my conversation with +Miss Graham. Originally it had been a stabling place for horses; and +tradition said that it had once harbored for a week the horse of General +Washington. This was when the house on the knoll above had been the seat +and home of one of our most famous Revolutionary generals. Later, as the +trees grew up around this building, it attracted the attention of a new +owner, William Ocumpaugh, the first of that name to inhabit Homewood, +and he, being a man of reserved manners and very studious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> habits, +turned it into what we would now call, as Miss Graham did, a den, but +which he styled a pavilion, and used as a sort of study or reading-room.</p> + +<p>His son, who inherited it, Judge Philo Ocumpaugh, grandfather of the +present Philo, was as studious as his father, but preferred to read and +write in the quaint old library up at the house, famous for its wide +glass doors opening on to the lawn, and its magnificent view of the +Hudson. His desk, which many remember (it has a place in the present +house, I believe), was so located that for forty years or more he had +this prospect ever before him, a prospect which included the sight of +his own pavilion, around which, for no cause apparent to his +contemporaries, he had caused a high wall to be built, effectually +shutting in both trees and building.</p> + +<p>This wall has since been removed; but I have often heard it spoken of, +and always with a certain air of mystery; possibly because, as I have +said, there seemed no good reason for its erection, the place holding no +treasure and the gate standing always open; possibly because of its +having been painted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> in defiance of all harmony with everything about +the place, a dazzling white; and possibly because it had not been raised +till after the death of the judge's first wife, who, some have said, +breathed her last within the precincts it inclosed.</p> + +<p>However that may be, there seems to be no doubt that this place exerted, +very likely against his will, for he never visited it, a singular +fascination over the secretive mind of this same upright but strangely +taciturn ancestor of the Ocumpaughs. For during the forty years in which +he wrote and read at this desk, the shutters guarding the door +overlooking those decaying walls were never drawn to, or so the +tradition runs; and when he died, it was found that, by a clause in his +will, this pavilion, hut or bungalow, all of which names it bore at +different stages of its existence, was recommended to the notice of his +heirs as an object which they were at liberty to leave in its present +forsaken condition, though he did not exact this, but which was never, +under any circumstances or to serve any purpose, to be removed from its +present site, or even to suffer any demolition save such as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> came with +time and the natural round of the seasons, to whose tender mercies he +advised it to be left. In other words, it was to stand, and to stand +unmolested, till it fell of its own accord, or was struck to the earth +by lightning—a tragic alternative in the judgment of those who knew it +for a structure of comparative insignificance, and one which, in the +minds of many, and perhaps I may say in my own, appeared to point to +some serious and unrevealed cause not unlinked with the almost forgotten +death of that young wife to which I have just alluded.</p> + +<p>This was years ago, far back in the fifties, and his son, who was a +minor at his death, grew up and assumed his natural proprietorship. The +hut—it was nothing but a hut now—had remained untouched—a ruin no +longer habitable. The spirit, as well as the letter, of that particular +clause in his father's will had so far been literally obeyed. The walls +being of stone, had withstood decay, and still rose straight and firm; +but the roof had begun to sag, and whatever of woodwork yet remained +about it had rotted and fallen away, till the building was little more +than a skeleton, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> holes for its windows and an open gap for its +door.</p> + +<p>As for the surrounding wall, it no longer stood out, an incongruous +landmark, from its background of trees and shrubbery. Young shoots had +started up and old branches developed till brick and paint alike were +almost concealed from view by a fresh girdle of greenery.</p> + +<p>And now comes the second mystery.</p> + +<p>Sometime after this latter Ocumpaugh had attained his majority—his name +was Edwin, and he was, as you already imagine, the father of the present +Philo—he made an attempt—a daring one it was afterward called—to +brighten this neglected spot and restore it to some sort of use, by +giving a supper to his friends within its broken-down walls.</p> + +<p>This supper was no orgy, nor were the proprieties in any way +transgressed by so harmless a festivity; yet from this night a singular +change was observed in this man. Pleasure no longer charmed him, and +instead of repeating the experiment I have just described, he speedily +evinced such an antipathy to the scene of his late revel that only from +the greatest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> necessity would he ever again visit that part of the +grounds.</p> + +<p>What did it mean? What had occurred on that night of innocent enjoyment +to disturb or alarm him? Had some note in his own conscience been struck +by an act which, in his cooler moments, he may have looked upon as a +species of sacrilege? Or had some whisper from the past reached him amid +the feasting, the laughing and the jesting, to render these old walls +henceforth intolerable to him? He never said, but whatever the cause of +this sudden aversion, the effect was deep and promised to be lasting. +For, one morning, not long after this event, a party of workmen was seen +leaving these grounds at daybreak, and soon it was noised about that a +massive brick partition had been put up across the interior of this same +pavilion, completely shutting off, for no reason that any one could see, +some ten feet of what had been one long and undivided room.</p> + +<p>It was a strange act enough; but when, a few days later, it was followed +by one equally mysterious, and they saw the encircling wall which had +been so carefully raised by Judge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> Ocumpaugh ruthlessly pulled down, and +every sign of its former presence there destroyed, wonder filled the +highway and the curiosity of neighbors and friends passed all bounds.</p> + +<p>But no explanations were volunteered then or ever. People might query +and peer, but they learned nothing. What was left open to view told no +tales beyond the old one, and as for the single window which was the +sole opening into the shut-off space, it was then, as now, so completely +blocked up by a network of closely impacted vines, that it offered +little more encouragement than the wall itself to the eyes of such +curiosity-mongers as crept in by way of the hedge-rows to steal a look +at the hut, and if possible gain a glimpse of an interior which had +suddenly acquired, by the very means taken to shut it off from every +human eye, a new importance pointing very decidedly toward the tragic.</p> + +<p>But soon even this semblance of interest died out or was confined to +strange tales whispered under breath on weird nights at neighboring +firesides, and the old neglect prevailed once more. The whole place—new +brick and old stone—seemed doomed to a common fate under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> the hand of +time, when the present Philo Ocumpaugh, succeeding to the property, +brought new wealth and business enterprise into the family, and the old +house on the hill was replaced by the marble turrets of Homewood, and +this hut—or rather the portion open to improvement—was restored to +some sort of comfort, and rechristened the bungalow.</p> + +<p>Was fate to be appeased by this effort at forgetfulness? No. In +emulation of the long abandoned portion so hopelessly cut off by that +dividing wall, this brightly-furnished adjunct to the great house had +linked itself in the minds of men to a new mystery—the mystery which I +had come there to solve, if wit and patience could do it, aided by my +supposedly unshared knowledge of a fact connecting me with this family's +history in a way it little dreamed of.</p> + +<p>Naturally, my first look was at the building itself. I have described +its location and the room from which the child was lost. What I wanted +to see now, after studying those chalk-marks, was whether that partition +which had been put in, was as impassable as was supposed.</p> + +<p>The policeman on guard having strolled a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> feet away, I approached +the open doorway without hindrance, and at once took that close look I +had promised myself, of the marks which I had observed scrawled broadly +across the floor just inside the threshold. They were as interesting and +fully as important as I had anticipated. Though nearly obliterated by +the passing of the policeman's feet across them, I was still enabled to +read the one word which appeared to me significant.</p> + +<p>If you will glance at the following reproduction of a snap-shot which I +took of this scrawl, you will see what I mean.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/ill_004.jpg" width="300" height="47" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The significant character was the 16. Taken with the "ust," there could +be no doubt that the whole writing had been a record of the date on +which the child had disappeared: August 16, 190-.</p> + +<p>This in itself was of small consequence if the handwriting had not +possessed those marked peculiarities which I believed belonged to but +one man—a man I had once known—a man of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> reverend aspect, upright +carriage and a strong distinguishing mark, like an old-time scar, +running straight down between his eyebrows. This had been my thought +when I first saw it. It was doubly so on seeing it again after the +doubts expressed by Miss Graham of a threatening old man who possessed +similar characteristics.</p> + +<p>Satisfied on this point, I turned my attention to what still more +seriously occupied it. The three or four long rugs, which hung from the +ceiling across the whole wall at my left, evidently concealed the +mysterious partition put up in Mr. Ocumpaugh's father's time directly +across this portion of the room. Was it a totally unbroken partition? I +had been told so; but I never accept such assertions without a personal +investigation.</p> + +<p>Casting a glance through the doorway and seeing that it would take my +dreaming friend, the policeman, some two or three minutes yet to find +his way back to his post, I hastily lifted these rugs aside, one after +the other, and took a look behind them. A stretch of Georgia pine, laid, +as I readily discovered by more than one rap of my knuckles, directly +over the bricks it was intended to conceal, was visible under each;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +from end to end a plain partition with no indications of its having been +tampered with since the alterations were first made.</p> + +<p>Dismissing from my mind one of those vague possibilities, which add such +interest to the calling of a detective, I left the place, with my full +thought concentrated on the definite clue I had received from the +chalk-marks.</p> + +<p>But I had not walked far before I met with a surprise which possibly +possessed a significance equal to anything I had already observed, if +only I could have fully understood it.</p> + +<p>On the path into which I now entered, I encountered again the figure of +Mrs. Carew. Her face was turned full on mine, and she had evidently +retraced her steps to have another instant's conversation with me. The +next moment I was sure of this. Her eyes, always magnetic, shone with +increasing brightness as I advanced to meet her, and her manner, while +grave, was that of a woman quite conscious of the effect she produced by +her least word or action.</p> + +<p>"I have returned to tell you," said she, "that I have more confidence in +your efforts than in those of the police officers around here. If +Gwendolen's fate is determined by any one it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> will be by you. So I want +to be of aid to you if I can. Remember that. I may have said this to you +before, but I wish to impress it upon you."</p> + +<p>There was a flutter in her movements which astonished me. She was +surveying me in a straightforward way, and I could not but feel the fire +and force of her look. Happily she was no longer a young woman or I +might have misunderstood the disturbance which took place in my own +breast as I waited for the musical tones to cease.</p> + +<p>"You are very good," I rejoined. "I need help, and shall be only too +glad to receive your assistance."</p> + +<p>Yet I did question her, though I presently found myself walking toward +the house at her side. She may not have expected me to presume so far. +Certainly she showed no dissatisfaction when, at a parting in the path, +I took my leave of her and turned my face in the direction of the gates. +A strange sweet woman, with a power quite apart from the physical charms +which usually affect men of my age, but one not easily read nor parted +from unless one had an imperative errand, as I had.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>This errand was to meet and forestall the messenger boy whom I momently +expected with the answer to my telegram. That an opportunity for gossip +was likewise afforded by the motley group of men and boys drawn up near +one of the gate-posts, gave an added interest to the event which I was +quite ready to appreciate. Approaching this group, I assimilated myself +with it as speedily as possible, and, having some tact for this sort of +thing, soon found myself the recipient of various gratuitous opinions as +to the significance of the find which had offered such a problem both to +the professional and unprofessional detective. Two mismated shoes! Had +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh by any chance worn such? No—or the ones mating them +would have been found in her closet, and this, some one shouted out, had +not been done. Only the one corresponding to that fished up from the +waters of the dock had come to light; the other, the one which the child +must really have worn, was no nearer being found than the child herself. +What did it all mean? No one knew; but all attempted some sort of +hazardous guess which I was happy to see fell entirely short of the +mark.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was not a word of the vindictive old man described by Miss Graham, +till I myself introduced the topic. My reason or rather my excuse for +introducing it was this:</p> + +<p>On the gate-post near me I had observed the remnants of a strip of paper +which had been pasted there and afterward imperfectly torn off. It had +an unsightly look, but I did not pay much attention to it till some +movement in the group forced me a little nearer to the post, when I was +surprised enough to see that this scrap of paper showed signs of words, +and that these words gave evidence of being a date written in the very +hand I now had no difficulty in recognizing as that of the old man +uppermost in my own mind, even if he were not the one whom Miss Graham +had seen on the bridge. This date—strange to say—was the same +significant one already noted on the floor of the bungalow—a fact which +I felt merited an explanation if any one about me could give it.</p> + +<p>Waiting, therefore, for a lull in the remarks passing between the +stable-men and other employees about the place, I drew the attention of +the first man who would listen, to the half torn-off strip of paper on +the post, and asked if that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> was the way the Ocumpaughs gave notice of +their entertainments.</p> + +<p>He started, then turned his back on me.</p> + +<p>"That wasn't put there for the entertainment," he growled; "that was +pasted up there by some one who wanted to show off his writin'. There +don't seem to be no other reason."</p> + +<p>As the man who spoke these words had thereby proved himself a blockhead, +I edged away from him as soon as possible toward a very decent looking +fellow who appeared to have more brains than speech.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who pasted that date upon the post?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>He answered very directly.</p> + +<p>"No, or I should have been laying for him long before this. Why, it is +not only there you can see it. I found it pinned to the carriage +cushions one day just as I was going to drive Mrs. Ocumpaugh out." +(Evidently I had struck upon the coachman.) "And not only that. One of +the girls up at the house—one as I knows pretty well—tells me—I don't +care who hears it now—that it was written across a card which was left +at the door for Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and all in the same handwriting, which +is not a common<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> one, as you can see. This means something, seeing it +was the date when our bad luck fell on us."</p> + +<p>He had noted that.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say that these things were written and put about +before the date you see on them."</p> + +<p>"But I do. Would we have noticed since? But who are you, sir, if I may +ask? One of them detective fellows? If so, I have a word to say: Find +that child or Mrs. Ocumpaugh's blood will be on your head! She'll not +live till Mr. Ocumpaugh comes home unless she can show him his child."</p> + +<p>"Wait!" I called out, for he was turning away toward the stable. "You +know who wrote those slips?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it. No one does. Not that anybody thinks much about them +but me."</p> + +<p>"The police must," I ventured.</p> + +<p>"May be, but they don't say anything about it. Somehow it looks to me as +if they were all at sea."</p> + +<p>"Possibly they are," I remarked, letting him go as I caught sight of a +small boy coming up the road with several telegrams in his hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is one of those directed to Robert Trevitt?" I asked, crowding up with +the rest, as his small form was allowed to slip through the gate.</p> + +<p>"Spec's there is," he replied, looking them over and handing me one.</p> + +<p>I carried it to one side and hastily tore it open. It was, as I +expected, from my partner, and read as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Man you want has just returned after two days' absence. Am on +watch. Saw him just alight from buggy with what looked like +sleeping child in his arms. Closed and fastened front door after +him. Safe for to-night.</p></div> + +<p>Did I allow my triumph to betray itself? I do not think so. The question +which kept down my elation was this: Would I be the first man to get +there?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>THE OLD HOUSE IN YONKERS</h3> + +<p>The old man whose handwriting I had now positively identified was a +former employer of mine. I had worked in his office when a lad. He was a +doctor of very fair reputation in Westchester County, and I recognized +every characteristic of his as mentioned by Miss Graham, save the frenzy +which she described as accompanying his address.</p> + +<p>In those days he was calm and cold and, while outwardly scrupulous, +capable of forgetting his honor as a physician under a sufficiently +strong temptation. I had left him when new prospects opened, and in the +years which had elapsed had contented myself with the knowledge that his +shingle still hung out in Yonkers, though his practice was nothing to +what it used to be when I was in his employ. Now I was going to see him +again.</p> + +<p>That his was the hand which had stolen Gwendolen seemed no longer open +to doubt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> That she was under his care in the curious old house I +remembered in the heart of Yonkers, seemed equally probable; but why so +sordid a man—one who loved money above everything else in the +world—should retain the child one minute after the publication of the +bountiful reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh, was what I could not at first +understand. Miss Graham's theory of hate had made no impression on me. +He was heartless and not likely to be turned aside from any project he +had formed, but he was not what I considered vindictive where nothing +was to be gained. Yet my comprehension of him had been but a boy's +comprehension, and I was now prepared to put a very different estimate +on one whose character had never struck me as being an open one, even +when my own had been most credulous.</p> + +<p>That my enterprise, even with the knowledge I possessed of this man, +promised well or held out any prospects of easy fulfilment, I no longer +allowed myself to think. If money was his object—and what other could +influence a man of his temperament?—the sum offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh, +large though it was, had apparently not sufficed to satisfy his greed. +He was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> holding back the child, or so I now believed, in order to wring +a larger, possibly a double, amount from the wretched mother. Fifty +thousand was a goodly sum, but one hundred thousand was better; and this +man had gigantic ideas where his cupidity was concerned. I remember how +firmly he had once stood out for ten thousand dollars when he had been +offered five; and I began to see, though in an obscure way as yet, how +it might very easily be a part of his plan to work Mrs. Ocumpaugh up to +a positive belief in the child's death before he came down upon her for +the immense reward he had fixed his heart upon. The date he had written +all over the place might thus find some explanation in a plan to weaken +her nerve before pressing his exorbitant claims upon her.</p> + +<p>Nothing was clear, yet everything was possible in such a nature; and +anxious to enter upon the struggle both for my own sake and that of the +child of whose condition under that terrible eye I scarcely dared to +think, I left Homewood in haste and took the first train for Yonkers. +Though the distance was not great, I had fully arranged my plans before +entering the town where so many of my boyish years had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> spent. I +knew the old fox well enough, or thought I did, to be certain that I +should have anything but an easy entrance into his house, in case it +still harbored the child whom my partner had seen carried in there. I +anticipated difficulties, but was concerned about none but the +possibility of not being able to bring myself face to face with him. +Once in his presence, the knowledge which I secretly possessed of an old +but doubtful transaction of his, would serve to make him mine even to +the point of yielding up the child he had forcibly abducted. But would +he accord me an interview? Could I, without appeal to the police—and +you can readily believe I was not anxious to allow them to put their +fingers in my pie—force him to open his door and let me into his house, +which, as I well recalled, he locked up at nine—after which he would +receive no one, not even a patient?</p> + +<p>It was not nine yet, but it was very near that hour. I had but twenty +minutes in which to mount the hill to the old house marked by the +doctor's sign and by another peculiarity of so distinct a nature that it +would serve to characterize a dwelling in a city as large as New +York—though I doubt if New York can show its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> like from the Battery to +the Bronx. The particulars of this I will mention later. I have first to +relate the relief I felt when, on entering the old neighborhood, I heard +in response to a few notes of a certain popular melody which I had +allowed to leave my lips, an added note or two which warned me that my +partner was somewhere hidden among the alleys of this very +unaristocratic quarter. Indeed, from the sound, I judged him to be in +the rear of the doctor's house and, being anxious to hear what he had to +say before advancing upon the door which might open my way to easy +fortune or complete defeat, I paused a few steps off and waited for his +appearance.</p> + +<p>He was at my elbow before I had either seen or heard him. He was always +light of foot, but this time he seemed to have no tread at all.</p> + +<p>"Still here," was his comforting assurance.</p> + +<p>"Both?" I whispered back.</p> + +<p>"Both."</p> + +<p>"Any one else?"</p> + +<p>"No. A boy drove away the buggy and has not come back. Sawbones keeps no +girl."</p> + +<p>"Is the child quiet? Has there been no alarm?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not a breath."</p> + +<p>"No cops in the neighborhood? No spies around?"</p> + +<p>"Not one. We've got it all this time. But—"</p> + +<p>"Hush!"</p> + +<p>"There's nobody."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the doctor; he's fastening up his house. I must hasten; nothing +would induce me to let that innocent remain under his roof all night."</p> + +<p>"It's not the windows he is at."</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"The door, the big front door."</p> + +<p>"The—"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>I gave my partner a surprised look, undoubtedly lost in the darkness, +and drew a step nearer the house.</p> + +<p>"It's just the same old gloom-box," I exclaimed, and paused for an +instant to mark the changes which had taken place in the surroundings. +They were very few and I turned back to fix my eye on the front door +where a rattling sound could be heard, as of some one fingering the +latch. It was this door which formed the peculiarity of the house. In +itself it was like any other that was well-fashioned and solid, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> it +opened upon space—that is, if it was ever opened, which I doubted. The +stoop and even the railing which had once guarded it, had all been +removed, leaving a bare front, with this inhospitable entrance shut +against every one who had not the convenience for mounting to it by a +ladder. There was another way in, but this was round on one side, and +did not present itself to the eye unless one approached from the west +end of the street; so that to half the passers-by the house looked like +a deserted one till they came abreast of the flagged path which led to +the office door. As the windows had never been unclosed in my day and +were not now, I took it for granted that they had remained thus +inhospitably shut during all the years of my absence, which certainly +offered but little encouragement to a man bent on an errand which would +soon take him into those dismal precincts.</p> + +<p>"What goes on behind those shuttered windows?" thought I. "I know of one +thing, but what else?" The one thing was the counting of money and the +arranging of innumerable gold pieces on the great top of a baize-covered +table in what I should now describe as the back parlor. I remembered how +he used to do it. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> caught him at it once, having crept up one windy +night from my little room off the office to see what kept the doctor up +so late.</p> + +<p>As I now stood listening in the dark street to those strange touches on +a door disused for years, I recalled the tremor with which I rounded the +top of the stair that night of long ago and the mingled fear and awe +with which I recognized, not only such a mint of money as I had never +seen out of the bank before, but the greedy and devouring passion with +which he pushed the glittering coins about and handled the bank-notes +and gloated over the pile it all made when drawn together by his hooked +fingers, till the sound, perhaps, of my breathing in the dark hall +startled him with a thought of discovery, and his two hands came +together over that pile with a gesture more eloquent even than the look +with which he seemed to penetrate the very shadows in the silent space +wherein I stood. It was a vision short, but inexpressibly vivid, of the +miser incarnate, and having seen it and escaped detection, as was my +undeserved luck that night, I needed never to ask again why he had been +willing to accept risks from which most men shrink from fear if not from +conscience.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> He loved money, not as the spender loves it, openly and +with luxurious instincts, but secretly and with a knavish dread of +discovery which spoke of treasure ill acquired.</p> + +<p>And now he was seeking to add to his gains, and I stood on the outside +of his house listening to sounds I did not understand, instead of +attempting to draw him to the office-door by ringing the bell he never +used to disconnect till nine.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that I don't quite like the noises which are being made up +there?" came in a sudden whisper to my ear. "Supposing it was the child +trying to get out! She does not know there is no stoop; she seemed +sleeping or half-dead when he carried her in, and if by any chance she +has got hold of the key and the door should open—"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" I cried, starting forward in horror of the thought he had +suggested. "It is opening. I see a thread of light. What does it mean, +Jupp? The child? No; there is more than a child's strength in that push. +Hist!" Here I drew him flat against the wall. The door above had swung +back and some one was stamping on the threshold over our heads in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> what +appeared to be an outburst of ungovernable fury.</p> + +<p>That it was the doctor I could not doubt. But why this anger; why this +mad gasping after breath and the half-growl, half-cry, with which he +faced the night and the quiet of a street which to his glance, passing +as it did over our heads, must have appeared altogether deserted? We +were consulting each other's faces for some explanation of this +unlooked-for outbreak, when the door above us suddenly slammed to and we +heard a renewal of that fumbling with lock and key which had first drawn +our attention. But the hand was not sure or the hall was dark, for the +key did not turn in the lock. Suddenly awake to my opportunity, I +wheeled Jupp about and, making use of his knee and back, climbed up till +I was enabled to reach the knob and turn it just as the man within had +stepped back, probably to procure more light.</p> + +<p>The result was that the door swung open and I stumbled in, falling +almost face downward on the marble floor faintly checkered off to my +sight in the dim light of a lamp set far back in a bare and dismal hall. +I was on my feet again in an instant and it was in this manner, and with +all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> the disadvantages of a hatless head and a disordered countenance, +that I encountered again my old employer after five years of absence.</p> + +<p>He did not recognize me. I saw it by the look of alarm which crossed his +features and the involuntary opening of his lips in what would certainly +have been a loud cry if I had not smiled and cried out with false +gaiety:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, doctor, I never came in by that door before. Pardon my +awkwardness. The step is somewhat high from the street."</p> + +<p>My smile is my own, they say; at all events it served to enlighten him.</p> + +<p>"Bob Trevitt," he exclaimed, but with a growl of displeasure I could +hardly condemn under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>I hastened to push my advantage, for he was looking very threateningly +toward the door which was swaying gently and in an inviting way to a man +who if old, had more power in his arms than I had in my whole body.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mr.</i> Trevitt," I corrected; "and on a very important errand. I am here +on behalf of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose child you have at this moment under +your roof."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>DOCTOR POOL</h3> + +<p>It was a direct attack and for a minute I doubted if I had not made a +mistake in making it so suddenly and without gloves. His face purpled, +the veins on his forehead started out, his great form shook with an ire +that in such domineering natures as his can only find relief in a blow. +But the right hand did not rise nor the heavy fist fall. With admirable +self-restraint he faced me for a moment, without attempting either +protest or denial. Then his blazing eyes cooled down, and with a sudden +gesture which at once relaxed his extreme tension of nerve and muscle, +he pointed toward the end of the hall and remarked with studied +politeness:</p> + +<p>"My office is below, as you know. Will you oblige me by following me +there?"</p> + +<p>I feared him, for I saw that studiously as he sought to hide his +impressions, he too regarded the moment as one of critical +significance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> But I assumed an air of perfect confidence, merely +observing as I left the neighborhood of the front door and the proximity +of Jupp:</p> + +<p>"I have friends on the outside who are waiting for me; so you must not +keep me too long."</p> + +<p>He was bending to take up the lamp from a small table near the basement +stair as I threw out these words in apparent carelessness, and the flash +which shot from under his shaggy brows was thus necessarily heightened +by the glare in which he stood. Yet with all allowances made I marked +him down in my own mind as dangerous, and was correspondingly surprised +when he turned on the top step of the narrow staircase I remembered so +vividly from the experience I have before named, and in the mildest of +accents remarked:</p> + +<p>"These stairs are a trifle treacherous. Be careful to grasp the +hand-rail as you come down."</p> + +<p>Was the game deeper than I thought? In all my remembrance of him I had +never before seen him look benevolent, and it alarmed me, coming as it +did after the accusation I had made. I felt tempted to make a stand and +demand that the interview be held then and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> there. For I knew his +subterranean office very well, and how difficult it would be to raise a +cry there which could be heard by any one outside. Still, with a +muttered, "Thank you," I proceeded to follow him down, only stopping +once in the descent to listen for some sound by which I could determine +in which room of the many I knew to be on this floor the little one lay, +on whose behalf I was incurring a possible bullet from the pistol I once +saw lurking amongst bottles and corks in one of the innumerable drawers +of the doctor's table. But all was still around and overhead; too still +for my peace of mind, in which dreadful visions began to rise of a +drugged or dying child, panting out its innocent breath in darkness and +solitude. Yet no. With those thousands to be had for the asking, any man +would be a fool to injure or even seriously to frighten a child upon +whose good condition they depended; much less a miser whose whole heart +was fixed on money.</p> + +<p>The clock struck as I put foot on the landing; so much can happen in +twenty minutes when events crowd and the passions of men reach their +boiling-point! I expected to see the old man try that door, even to +double bolt it as in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> the years gone by. But he merely threw a look that +way and proceeded on down the three or four steps which led into the +species of basement where he had chosen to fix his office. In another +moment that dim and dismal room broke upon my view under the vague light +of the small and poorly-trimmed lamp he carried. I saw again its musty +walls covered with books, where there were shelves laden with bottles +and a loose array of miscellaneous objects I had often handled but out +of which I never could make any meaning. I recognized it all and +detected but few changes. But these were startling ones. The old lounge +standing under the two barred windows which I had often likened in my +own mind to those of a jail, had been recovered; and lying on the table, +which I had always regarded with a mixture of awe and apprehension, I +perceived something which I had never seen there before: a Bible, with +its edges worn and its leaves rumpled as if often and eagerly handled.</p> + +<p>I was so struck by this last discovery that I stopped, staring, in the +doorway, looking from the sacred volume to his worn but vigorous figure +drawn up in the middle of the room, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> the lamp still in his hand and +his small but brilliant eyes fixed upon mine with a certain ironical +glitter in them, which gave me my first distrust of the part I had come +there to play.</p> + +<p>"We will waste no words," said he, setting down the lamp, and seizing +with his disengaged hand the long locks of his flowing beard. "In what +respect are you a messenger from Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and what makes you +think I have her child in this house?"</p> + +<p>I found it easier to answer the last question first.</p> + +<p>"I know the child is here," I replied, "because my partner saw you bring +her in. I have gone into the detective business since leaving you."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>There was an astonishing edge to his smile and I felt that I should have +to make the most of that old discovery of mine, if I were to hold my own +with this man.</p> + +<p>"And may I ask," he coldly continued, "how you have succeeded in +connecting me with this young child's disappearance?"</p> + +<p>"It's straight as a string," I retorted. "You threatened the child to +its face in the hearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> of its nurse some two weeks ago, on a certain +bridge where you stopped them. You even set the day when the little +Gwendolen should pass from luxury to poverty." Here I cast an +involuntary glance about the room where the only sign of comfort was the +newly upholstered lounge. "That day was the sixteenth, and we all know +what happened on that date. If this is not plain enough—" I had seen +his lip curl—"allow me to add, by way of explanation, that you have +seen fit to threaten Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself with this date, for I know +well the hand which wrote <i>August 16</i> on the bungalow floor and in +various other places about Homewood where her eye was likely to fall." +And I let my own fall on a sort of manuscript lying open not far from +the Bible, which still looked so out of place to me on this +pagan-hearted old miser's table. "Such chirography as yours is not to be +mistaken," I completed, with a short gesture toward the disordered +sheets he had left spread out to every eye.</p> + +<p>"I see. A detective without doubt. Did you play the detective here?"</p> + +<p>The last question leaped like a shot from his lips.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have not denied the threats to which I have just called your +attention," was my cautious reply.</p> + +<p>"What need of that?" he retorted. "Are you not a—<i>detective</i>?"</p> + +<p>There was sarcasm, as well as taunt in the way he uttered that last +word. I was conscious of being at a loss, but put a bold front on the +matter and proceeded as if conscious of no secret misgiving.</p> + +<p>"Can you deny as well that you have been gone two days from this place? +That during this time a doctor's buggy, drawn by a horse I should know +by description, having harnessed him three times a day for two years, +was seen by more than one observer in the wake of a mysterious wagon +from the interior of which a child's crying could be heard? The wagon +did not drive up to this house to-night, but the buggy did, and from it +you carried a child which you brought with you into this house."</p> + +<p>With a sudden down-bringing of his old but powerful hand on the top of +the table before him, he seemed about to utter an oath or some angry +invective. But again he controlled himself, and eying me without any +show of shame<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> or even of desire to contradict any of my assertions, he +quietly declared:</p> + +<p>"You are after that reward, I observe. Well, you won't get it. Like many +others of your class you can follow a trail, but the insight to start +right and to end in triumphant success is given only to a genius, and +you are not a genius."</p> + +<p>With a blush I could not control, I advanced upon him, crying:</p> + +<p>"You have forestalled me. You have telegraphed or telephoned to Mr. +Atwater—"</p> + +<p>"I have not left my house since I came in here three hours ago."</p> + +<p>"Then—" I began.</p> + +<p>But he hushed me with a look.</p> + +<p>"It is not a matter of money," he declared almost with dignity. "Those +who think to reap dollars from the distress which has come upon the +Ocumpaugh family will eat ashes for their pains. Money will be spent, +but none of it earned, unless you, or such as you, are hired at so much +an hour to—follow trails."</p> + +<p>Greatly astounded not only by the attitude he took, but by the calm and +almost indifferent way in which he mentioned what I had every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> reason to +believe to be the one burning object of his existence, I surveyed him +with undisguised astonishment till another thought, growing out of the +silence of the many-roomed house above us, gripped me with secret dread; +and I exclaimed aloud and without any attempt at subterfuge:</p> + +<p>"She is dead, then! the child is dead!"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," was his reply.</p> + +<p>The four words were uttered with undeniable gloom.</p> + +<p>"You do not know?" I echoed, conscious that my jaw had fallen, and that +I was staring at him with fright in my eyes.</p> + +<p>"No. I wish I did. I would give half of my small savings to know where +that innocent baby is to-night. Sit down!" he vehemently commanded. "You +do not understand me, I see. You confound the old Doctor Pool with the +new."</p> + +<p>"I confound nothing," I violently retorted in strong revulsion against +what I had now come to look upon as the attempt of a subtile actor to +turn aside my suspicions and brave out a dangerous situation by a +ridiculous subterfuge. "I understand the miser whom I have beheld<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +gloating over his hoard in the room above, and I understand the doctor +who for money could lend himself to a fraud, the secret results of which +are agitating the whole country at this moment."</p> + +<p>"So!" The word came with difficulty. "So you <i>did</i> play the detective, +even as a boy. Pity I had not recognized your talents at the time. But +no—" he contradicted himself with great rapidity; "I was not a redeemed +soul then; I might have done you harm. I might have had more if not +worse sins to atone for than I have now." And with scant appearance of +having noted the doubtful manner in which I had received this +astonishing outburst, he proceeded to cry aloud and with a commanding +gesture: "Quit this. You have undertaken more than you can handle. You, +a messenger from Mrs. Ocumpaugh? Never. You are but the messenger of +your own cupidity; and cupidity leads by the straightest of roads +directly down to hell."</p> + +<p>"This you proved six long years ago. Lead me to the child I believe to +be in this house or I will proclaim aloud the pact you entered into +then—a pact to which I was an involuntary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> witness whose word, however, +will not go for less on that account. Behind the curtain still hanging +over that old closet I stood while—"</p> + +<p>His hand had seized my arm with a grip few could have proceeded under.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean—"</p> + +<p>The rest was whispered in my ear.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 368px;"> +<img src="images/ill_005.jpg" width="368" height="500" alt=""DO YOU MEAN"—THE REST WAS WHISPERED IN MY EAR." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"DO YOU MEAN"—THE REST WAS WHISPERED IN MY EAR.</span> +</div> + +<p>I nodded and felt that he was mine now. But the laugh which the next +minute broke from his lips dashed my assurance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the ways of the world!" he cried. Then in a different tone and not +without reverence: "Oh, the ways of God!"</p> + +<p>I made no reply. For every reason I felt that the next word must come +from him.</p> + +<p>It was an unexpected one.</p> + +<p>"That was Doctor Pool unregenerate and more heedful of the things of +this world than of those of the world to come. You have to deal with +quite a different man now. It is of that very sin I am now repenting in +sackcloth and ashes. I live but to expiate it. Something has been done +toward accomplishing this, but not enough. I have been played upon, +used. This I will avenge. New sin is a poor apology for an old one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>I scarcely heeded him. I was again straining my ears to catch a +smothered sob or a frightened moan.</p> + +<p>"What are you listening for?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"For the sound of little Gwendolen's voice. It is worth fifty thousand +dollars, you remember. Why shouldn't I listen for it? Besides, I have a +real and uncontrollable sympathy for the child. I am determined to +restore her to her home. Your blasphemous babble of a changed heart does +not affect me. You are after a larger haul than the sum offered by Mr. +Ocumpaugh. You want some of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's fortune. I have suspected +it from the first."</p> + +<p>"I want? Little you know what I want"—then quickly, convincingly: "You +are strangely deceived. Little Miss Ocumpaugh is not here."</p> + +<p>"What is that I hear, then?" was the quick retort with which I hailed +the sigh, unmistakably from infantile lips, which now rose from some +place very much nearer us than the hollow regions overhead toward which +my ears had been so long turned.</p> + +<p>"That!" He flashed with uncontrollable passion, and if I am not mistaken +clenched his hands so violently as to bury his nails in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> flesh. +"Would you like to see what that is? Come!"—and taking up the lamp, he +moved, much to my surprise as well as to my intense interest, toward the +door of the small cupboard where I had myself slept when in his service.</p> + +<p>That he still meditated some deviltry which would call for my full +presence of mind to combat successfully, I did not in the least doubt. +Yet the agitation under which I crossed the floor was more the result of +an immediate anticipation of seeing—and in this place of all others in +the world—the child about whom my thoughts had clung so persistently +for forty-two hours, than of any results to myself in the way of injury +or misfortune. Though the room was small and my passage across it +necessarily short, I had time to remember Mrs. Ocumpaugh's pitiful +countenance as I saw it gazing in agony of expectation from her window +overlooking the river, and to catch again the sounds, less true and yet +strangely thrilling, of Mrs. Carew's voice as she said: "A tragedy at my +doors and I occupied with my own affairs!" Nor was this all. A +recollection of Miss Graham's sorrow came up before my eyes also, and, +truest of all, most penetrating to me of all the loves which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> seemed to +encompass this rare and winsome infant, the infinite tenderness with +which I once saw Mr. Ocumpaugh lift her to his breast, during one of my +interviews with him at Homewood.</p> + +<p>All this before the door had swung open. Afterward, I saw nothing and +thought of nothing but the small figure lying in the spot where I had +once pillowed my own head, and with no more luxuries or even comforts +about her than had been my lot under this broad but by no means +hospitable roof.</p> + +<p>A bare wall, a narrow cot, a table with a bottle and glass on it and the +child in the bed—that was all. But God knows, it was enough to me at +that breathless moment; and advancing eagerly, I was about to stoop over +the little head sunk deep in its pillow, when the old man stepped +between and with a short laugh remarked:</p> + +<p>"There's no such hurry. I have something to say first, in explanation of +the anger you have seen me display; an anger which is unseemly in a man +professing to have conquered the sins and passions of lost humanity. I +did follow this child. You were right in saying that it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> was my horse +and buggy which were seen in the wake of the wagon which came from the +region of Homewood and lost itself in the crossroads running between the +North River and the Sound. For two days and a night I followed it, +through more difficulties than I could relate in an hour, stopping in +lonely woods, or at wretched taverns, watching, waiting for the transfer +of the child, whose destination I was bound to know even if it cost me a +week of miserable travel without comfortable food or decent lodging. I +could hear the child cry out from time to time—an assurance that I was +not following a will-o'-the-wisp—but not till to-day, not till very +late to-day, did any words pass between me and the man and woman who +drove the wagon. At Fordham, just as I suspected them of making final +efforts to escape me, they came to a halt and I saw the man get out.</p> + +<p>"I immediately got out too. As we faced each other, I demanded what the +matter was. He appeared reckless. 'Are you a doctor?' he asked. I +assured him that I was. At which he blurted out: 'I don't know why +you've been following us so long, and I don't care. I've got a job for +you. A child in our wagon is ill.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a start I attempted to look over the old man's shoulder toward the +bed. But the deep, if irregular, breathing of the child reassured me, +and I turned to hear the doctor out.</p> + +<p>"This gave me my chance. 'Let me see her,' I cried. The man's eye +lowered. I did not like his face at all. 'If it's anything serious,' he +growled, 'I shall cut. It isn't my flesh and blood nor yet my old +woman's there. You'll have to find some place for the brat besides my +wagon if it's anything that won't get cured without nu'ssin'. So come +along and have a look.' I followed him, perfectly determined to take the +child under my own care, sick or well. 'Where were you going to take +her?' I asked. I didn't ask who she was; why should I? 'I don't know as +I am obliged to tell,' was his surly reply. 'Where we are going +oursel's,' he reluctantly added. 'But not to nu'ss. I've no time for +nu'ssin' brats, nor my wife neither. We have a journey to make. +Sarah!'—this to his wife, for by this time we were beside the wagon, +'lift up the flap and hold the youngster's hand out. Here's a doctor who +will tell us if it's fever or not.' A puny hand and wrist were thrust +out. I felt the pulse and then held out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> my arms. 'Give me the child,' I +commanded. 'She's sick enough for a hospital.' A grunt from the woman +within, an oath from the man, and a bundle was presently put in my arms, +from which a little moan escaped as I strode with it toward my buggy. 'I +do not ask your name,' I called back to the man who reluctantly followed +me. 'Mine is Doctor Pool and I live in Yonkers.' He muttered something +about not peachin' on a poor man who was really doin' an unfortunate a +kindness, and then slunk hurriedly back and was gone, wagon, wife and +all, by the time I had whipped up my tired old nag and turned about +toward Yonkers. But I had the child safe and sound in my arms, and my +fears of its fate were relieved. It was not well, but I anticipated +nothing serious. When it moaned I pressed it a little closer to my +breast and that was all. In three-quarters of an hour we were in +Yonkers. In fifteen minutes I had it on this bed, and had begun to +unroll the shawl in which it was closely wrapped. Did you ever see the +child about whom there has been all this coil?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, about three years ago."</p> + +<p>"Three years! I have seen her within a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> fortnight; yet I could carry +that young one in my arms for a whole hour without the least suspicion +that I was making a fool of myself."</p> + +<p>Quickly slipping aside, he allowed me to approach the bed and take my +first look at the sleeping child's face. It was a sweet one but I did +not need the hint he had given me to find the features strange, and +lacking every characteristic of those of Gwendolen Ocumpaugh. Yet as the +cutting off of the hair will often change the whole aspect of the +face—and this child's hair was short—I was stooping in great +excitement to notice more particularly the contour of cheek and chin +which had given individuality to the little heiress, when the doctor +touched me on the arm and drew my attention to a pair of little trousers +and a shirt which were hanging on the door behind me.</p> + +<p>"Those are the clothes I came upon under that great shawl. The child I +have been following and whom I have brought into my house under the +impression it was Gwendolen Ocumpaugh is not even a girl."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>"FIND THE CHILD!"</h3> + +<p>I could well understand the wrath to which this man had given way, by +the feeling which now took hold of my own breast.</p> + +<p>"A boy!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"A boy."</p> + +<p>Still incredulous, I leaned over the child and lifted into the full +light of the lamp one of the little hands I saw lying outside of the +coverlet. There was no mistaking it for a girl's hand, let alone a +little lady's.</p> + +<p>"So we are both fools!" I vociferated in my unbounded indignation, +careful however to lay the small hand gently back on the panting breast. +And turning away both from the doctor and his small patient, I strolled +back into the office.</p> + +<p>The bubble whose gay colors I had followed with such avidity had burst +in my face with a vengeance.</p> + +<p>But once from under the influence of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> doctor's sarcastic eye, my +better nature reasserted itself. Wheeling about, I threw this question +back:</p> + +<p>"If that is a boy and a stranger, where is Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>A moan from the bed and a hurried movement on the part of the doctor, +who took this opportunity to give the child another dose of medicine, +were my sole response. Waiting till the doctor had finished his task and +drawn back from the bedside, I repeated the question and with increased +emphasis:</p> + +<p>"Where, then, is Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>Still the doctor did not answer, though he turned my way and even +stepped forward; his long visage, cadaverous from fatigue and the shock +of his disappointment, growing more and more somber as he advanced.</p> + +<p>When he came to a stand by the table, I asked again:</p> + +<p>"Where is the child idolized by Mr. Ocumpaugh and mourned to such a +degree by his almost maddened wife that they say she will die if the +little girl is not found?"</p> + +<p>The threat in my tones brought a response at last—a response which +astonished me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have I not said that I do not know? Do you not believe me? Do you think +me as blind to-day to truth and honor as I was six years ago? Have you +no idea of repentance and regeneration from sin? You are a detective. +Find me that child. You shall have money—hundreds—thousands—if you +can bring me proofs of her being yet alive. If the Hudson has swallowed +her—" here his figure rose, dilated and took on a majesty which +impressed itself upon me through all my doubts—"I will have vengeance +on whoever has thus dared the laws of God and man as I would on the +foulest murderer in the foulest slums of that city which breeds +wickedness in high places as in low. I lock hands no longer with Belial. +Find me the child, or make me at least to know the truth!"</p> + +<p>There was no doubting the passion which drove these words hot from his +lips. I recognized at last the fanatic whom Miss Graham had so +graphically described in relating her extraordinary adventure on the +bridge; and met him with this one question, which was certainly a vital +one:</p> + +<p>"Who dropped a shoe from the little one's closet, into the water under +the dock? Did you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No." His reply came quick and sharp.</p> + +<p>"But," I insisted, "you have had something to do with this child's +disappearance."</p> + +<p>He did not answer. A sullen look was displacing the fire of resolve in +the eyes I saw sinking slowly before mine.</p> + +<p>"I will not acknowledge it," he muttered; adding, however, in what was +little short of a growl: "Not yet, not till it becomes my duty to avenge +innocent blood."</p> + +<p>"You foretold the date."</p> + +<p>"Drop it."</p> + +<p>"You were in league with the abductor," I persisted. "I declare to your +face, in spite of all the vaunted scruples with which you seek to blind +me to your guilt, that you were in league with the abductor, knowing +what money Mrs. Ocumpaugh would pay. Only he was too smart for you, and +perhaps too unscrupulous. You would stop short of murder, now that you +have got religion. But his conscience is not so nice and so you fear—"</p> + +<p>"You do not know what I fear and I am not going to tell you. It is +enough that I am conscious of my own uprightness and that I say, Find +the child! You have incentive enough."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was true and it was growing stronger every minute.</p> + +<p>"Confine yourself to such clues as are apparent to every eye," he now +admonished me with an eagerness that seemed real. "If they are pointed +by some special knowledge you believe yourself to have gained, that is +all the better—perhaps. I do not propose to say."</p> + +<p>I saw that he had uttered his ultimatum.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said I. "I have, nevertheless, one more question to ask +which relates to those very clues. You can not refuse to answer it if +you are really desirous of aiding me in my efforts. Where did you first +come upon the wagon which you followed so many hours in the belief that +it held Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>He mused a moment with downcast head, his nervous frame trembling with +the force with which he threw his whole weight on the hand he held +outspread on the table before him. Then he calmly replied:</p> + +<p>"I will tell you that. At the gate of Mrs. Carew's grounds. You know +them? They adjoin the Ocumpaughs' on the left."</p> + +<p>My surprise made me lower my head but not so quickly that I did not +catch the oblique glint<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> of his eye as he mentioned the name which I was +so little prepared to hear in this connection.</p> + +<p>"I was in my buggy on the highroad," he continued. "There was a constant +passing by of all kinds of vehicles on their way to and from the +Ocumpaugh entertainment, but none that attracted my attention till I +caught sight of the covered wagon I have endeavored to describe, being +driven out of the adjoining grounds. Then I pricked up my ears, for a +child was crying inside in the smothered way that tells of a hand laid +heavily over the mouth. I thought I knew what child this was, but you +have been a witness to my disappointment after forty-eight hours of +travel behind that wretched wagon."</p> + +<p>"It came out of Mrs. Carew's grounds?" I repeated, ignoring everything +but the one important fact. "And during the time, you say, when Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's guests were assembling? Did you see any other vehicle leave +by the same gate at or before that time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a carriage. It appeared to have no one in it. Indeed, I know that +it was empty, for I peered into it as it rolled by me down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> street. +Of course I do not know what might have been under the seats."</p> + +<p>"Nothing," was my sharp retort. "That was the carriage in which Mrs. +Carew had come up from the train. Did it pass out before the wagon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, by some minutes."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing, then, to be gained by that."</p> + +<p>"There does not seem to be."</p> + +<p>Was his accent in uttering this simple phrase peculiar? I looked up to +make sure. But his face, which had been eloquent with one feeling or +another during every minute of this long interview till the present +instant, looked strangely impassive, and I did not know how to press the +question hovering on my lips.</p> + +<p>"You have given me a heavy task," I finally remarked, "and you offer +very little assistance in the way of conjecture. Yet you must have +formed some."</p> + +<p>He toyed with his beard, combing it with his nervous, muscular fingers, +and as I watched how he lingered over the tips, caressing them before he +dropped them, I felt that he was toying with my perplexities in much the +same fashion and with an equal satisfaction. Angry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> and out of all +patience with him, I blurted out:</p> + +<p>"I will do without your aid. I will solve this mystery and earn your +money if not that of Mr. Ocumpaugh, with no assistance save that +afforded by my own wits."</p> + +<p>"I expect you will," he retorted; and for the first time since I burst +in upon him like one dropping from the clouds through the unapproachable +doorway on the upper floor, he lost that look of extreme tension which +had nerved his aged figure into something of the aspect of youth. With +it vanished his impressiveness. It was simply a tired old man I now +followed upstairs to the side door. As I paused to give him a final nod +and an assurance of intended good faith toward him, he made a kindly +enough gesture in the direction of my old room below and said:</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about the little fellow down there. He'll come out all +right. I shan't visit on him the extravagance of my own folly. I am a +Christian now." And with this encouraging remark he closed the door and +I found myself alone in the dark alley.</p> + +<p>My first sense of relief came from the coolness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> of the night air on my +flushed forehead and cheeks. After the stifling atmosphere of this +underground room, reeking with the fumes of the lamp and the heat of a +struggle which his dogged confidence in himself had made so unequal, it +was pleasurable just to sense the quiet and the cool of the night and +feel myself released from the bondage of a presence from which I had +frequently recoiled but had never thoroughly felt the force of till +to-night; my next, from the touch and voice of my partner who at that +moment rose from before the basement windows where he had evidently been +lying for a long time outstretched.</p> + +<p>"What have you two been doing down there?" was his very natural +complaint. "I tried to listen, I tried to see; but beyond a few +scattered words when your voices rose to an excited pitch, I have +learned nothing but that you were in no danger save from the overthrow +of your scheme. That has failed, has it not? You would have interrupted +me long ago if you had found the child."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I acknowledged; drawing him down the alley, "I have failed for +to-night, but I start afresh to-morrow. Though how I can rest idle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> for +nine hours, not knowing under what roof, if under any, that doomed +innocent may be lying, I do not know."</p> + +<p>"You must rest; you are staggering with fatigue now."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it, only with uncertainty. I don't see my way. Let us go +down street and see if any news has come over the wires since I left +Homewood."</p> + +<p>"But first, what a spooky old house that is! And what did the old +gentleman have to say of your tumbling in on him from space without a +'By your leave' or even an 'Excuse me'? Tell me about it."</p> + +<p>I told him enough to allay his curiosity. That was all I thought +necessary,—and he seemed satisfied. Jupp is a good fellow, quite +willing to confine himself to his particular end of the business which +does not include the thinking end. Why should it?</p> + +<p>There was no news—this we soon learned—only some hints of a +contemplated move on the part of the police in a district where some low +characters had been seen dragging along a resisting child of an +unexpectedly refined appearance. As no one could describe this child +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> as I had refused from the first to look upon this case as one of +ordinary abduction, I laid little stress on the report, destined though +it was to appear under startling head-lines on the morrow, and startled +my more credulous partner quite out of his usual equanimity, by ordering +him on our arrival at the station to buy me a ticket for ——, as I was +going back to Homewood.</p> + +<p>"To Homewood, so late!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. It will not be late there—or if it is, anxious hearts make +light sleepers."</p> + +<p>His shoulders rose a trifle, but he bought the ticket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>"PHILO! PHILO! PHILO!"</h3> + +<p>Never have I felt a weirder sensation than when I stepped from the cars +on to the solitary platform from which a few hours before I had seen the +little nursery-governess depart for New York. The train, soon to +disappear in the darkness of the long perspective, was all that gave +life and light to the scene, and when it was gone, nothing remained to +relieve the gloom or to break the universal stillness save the quiet lap +of the water and the moaning of the wind through the trees which climbed +the heights to Homewood.</p> + +<p>I had determined to enter if possible by way of the private path, though +I expected to find it guarded against just such intrusion. In +approaching it I was given a full view of the river and thus was in a +position to note that the dock and adjoining banks were no longer bright +with lanterns in the hands of eager men bending with fixed eyes over the +flowing waters. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> search which had kept so many busy at this spot for +well on to two days had been abandoned; and the darkness seemed doubly +dark and the silence doubly oppressive in contrast.</p> + +<p>Yet hope spoke in the abandonment; and with renewed spirit and a more +than lively courage, I turned toward the little gate through which I had +passed twice before that day. As I expected, a silent figure rose up +from the shadows to prevent me; but it fell back at the mention of my +name and business, thus proving the man to be in the confidence of Mrs. +Ocumpaugh or, at the least, in that of Miss Porter.</p> + +<p>"I am come for a social chat with the coachman," I explained. "Lights +burn late in such extensive stables. Don't worry about me. The people at +the house are in sympathy with my investigation."</p> + +<p>Thus we stretch the truth at great crises.</p> + +<p>"I know you," was the answer. "But keep away from the house. Our orders +are imperative to allow no one to approach it again to-night, except +with the child in hand or with such news as would gain instant +admission."</p> + +<p>"Trust me," said I, as I went up the steps.</p> + +<p>It was so dark between the hedge-rows that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> my ascent became mere +groping. I had a lantern in my pocket which I had taken from Jupp, but I +did not choose to make use of it. I preferred to go on and up, trusting +to my instinct to tell me when I had reached a fresh flight of steps.</p> + +<p>A gleam of light from Mrs. Carew's upper windows was the first +intimation I received that I was at the top of the bank, and in another +moment I was opposite the gap in the hedge opening upon her grounds.</p> + +<p>For no particular reason that I know of, I here paused and took a long +survey of what was, after all, nothing but a cluster of shadows broken +here and there by squares of subdued light. I felt a vague desire to +enter—to see and talk again with the charming woman whose personality +had made such an impression upon me, if only to understand the peculiar +feelings which those indistinguishable walls awakened, and why such a +sense of anticipation should disturb my admiration of this woman and the +delight which I had experienced in every accent of her trained and +exquisite voice.</p> + +<p>I was standing very still and in almost total darkness. The shock, +therefore, was great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> when, in finally making up my mind to move, I +became conscious of a presence near me, totally indiscernible and as +silent as myself.</p> + +<p>Whose?</p> + +<p>No watchman, or he would have spoken at the rustle I made stumbling back +against the hedge-row. Some marauder, then, or a detective, like myself? +I would not waste time in speculating; better to decide the question at +once, for the situation was eery, the person, whoever he was, stood so +near and so still, and so directly in the way of my advance.</p> + +<p>Drawing the lantern from my pocket, I pushed open the slide and flashed +the light on the immovable figure before me. The face I beheld staring +into mine was one quite unknown to me, but as I took in its expression, +my arm gradually fell, and with it the light from the man's features, +till face and form were lost again in the darkness, leaving in my +disturbed mind naught but an impression; but such an impression!</p> + +<p>The countenance thus flashed upon my vision must have been a haunting +one at any time, but seen as I saw it, at a moment of extreme +self-abandonment, the effect was startling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> Yet I had sufficient +control over myself to utter a word or two of apology, which was not +answered, if it was even heard.</p> + +<p>A more exact description may be advisable. The person whom I thus +encountered hesitating before Mrs. Carew's house was a man of meager +build, sloping shoulders and handsome but painfully pinched features. +That he was a gentleman of culture and the nicest refinement was evident +at first glance; that this culture and refinement were at this moment +under the dominion of some fierce thought or resolve was equally +apparent, giving to his look an absorption which the shock attending the +glare I had thus suddenly thrown on his face could not immediately +dispel.</p> + +<p>Dazed by an encounter for which he seemed even less prepared than +myself, he stood with his heart in his face, if I may so speak, and only +gradually came to himself as the sense of my proximity forced itself in +upon his suffering and engrossed mind. When I saw that he had quite +emerged from his dream, I dropped the light. But I did not forget his +look; I did not forget the man, though I hastened to leave him, in my +desire to fulfill the purpose for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> which I had entered these grounds at +so late an hour.</p> + +<p>My plan was, as I have said, to visit the Ocumpaugh stables and have a +chat with the coachman. I had no doubt of my welcome and not much doubt +of myself. Yet as I left the vicinity of Mrs. Carew's cottage and came +upon the great house of the Ocumpaughs looming in the moonlight above +its marble terraces, I felt impressed as never before both by the beauty +and magnificence of the noble pile, and shrank with something like shame +from the presumption which had led me to pit my wits against a mystery +having its birth in so much grandeur and material power. The prestige of +great wealth as embodied in this superb structure well-nigh awed me from +my task and I was passing the twin pergolas and flower-bordered walks +with hesitating foot, when I heard through one of the open windows a cry +which made me forget everything but our common heritage of sorrow and +the equal hold it has on high and low.</p> + +<p>"Philo!" the voice rang out in a misery to wring the heart of the most +callous. "Philo! Philo!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Ocumpaugh's name called aloud by his suffering wife. Was she in +delirium? It would seem so; but why Philo! always Philo! and not once +Gwendolen?</p> + +<p>With hushed steps, ears ringing and heart palpitating with new and +indefinable sensations, I turned into the road to the stables.</p> + +<p>There were men about and I caught one glimpse of a maid's pretty head +looking from one of the rear windows, but no one stopped me, and I +reached the stable just as a man came sauntering out to take his final +look at the weather.</p> + +<p>It was the fellow I sought, Thomas the coachman.</p> + +<p>I had not miscalculated the nature of my man. In ten minutes we were +seated together on an open balcony, smoking and beguiling the time with +a little harmless gossip. After a free and easy discussion of the great +event, mingled with the naturally-to-be-expected criticism of the +police, we proceeded under my guidance to those particulars for which I +had risked losing this very valuable hour.</p> + +<p>He mentioned Mrs. Ocumpaugh; I mentioned Mrs. Carew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A beautiful woman," I remarked.</p> + +<p>I thought he looked astonished. "<i>She</i> beautiful?" was his doubtful +rejoinder. "What do you think of Mrs. Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>"She is handsome, too, but in a different way."</p> + +<p>"I should think so. I've driven rich and I've driven poor. I've even sat +on the box in front of an English duchess, but never have I seen such +features as Mrs. Ocumpaugh's. That's why I consent to drive an American +millionaire's wife when I might be driving the English nobility."</p> + +<p>"A statue!" said I; "cold!"</p> + +<p>"True enough, but one you never tire of looking at. Besides, she can +light up wonderfully. I've seen her when she was all a-quiver, and +lovely as the loveliest. And when do you think that was?"</p> + +<p>"When she had her child in her arms."</p> + +<p>I spoke in lowered tones as befitted the suggestion and the +circumstances.</p> + +<p>"No," he drawled, between thoughtful puffs of smoke; "when Mr. Ocumpaugh +sat on the seat beside her. This, when I was driving the victoria. I +often used to make excuse for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> turning my head about so as to catch a +glimpse of her smile at some fine view and the way she looked up at him +to see if he was enjoying it as much as she. I like women who love their +husbands."</p> + +<p>"And he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she has nothing to complain of in him. He worships the ground she +walks on; and he more than worshiped the child."</p> + +<p>Here <i>his</i> voice fell.</p> + +<p>I brought the conversation back as quickly as I could to Mrs. Carew.</p> + +<p>"You like pale women," said I. "Now I like a woman who looks plain one +minute, and perfectly charming the next."</p> + +<p>"That's what people say of Mrs. Carew. I know of lots who admire that +kind. The little girl for one."</p> + +<p>"Gwendolen? Was she attracted to Mrs. Carew?"</p> + +<p>"Attracted? I've seen her go to her from her mother's lap like a bird to +its nest. Many a time have I driven the carriage with Mrs. Ocumpaugh +sitting up straight inside, and her child curled up in this other +woman's arms with not a look or word for her mother."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How did Mrs. Ocumpaugh seem to like that?" I asked between puffs of my +cigar.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's one of the cold ones, you know! At least you say so; but I +feel sure that for the last three years—that is, ever since this woman +came into the neighborhood—her heart has been slowly breaking. This +last blow will kill her."</p> + +<p>I thought of the moaning cry of "Philo! Philo!" which at intervals I +still seemed to hear issue from that upper window in the great house, +and felt that there might be truth in his fears.</p> + +<p>But it was of Mrs. Carew I had come to talk and not of Mrs. Ocumpaugh.</p> + +<p>"Children's fancies are unaccountable," I sententiously remarked; "but +perhaps there is some excuse for this one. Mrs. Carew has what you call +magnetism—a personality which I should imagine would be very appealing +to a child. I never saw such expression in a human face. Whatever her +mood, she impresses each passing feeling upon you as the one reality of +her life. I can not understand such changes, but they are very +fascinating."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they are easy enough to understand in her case. She was an actress +once. I myself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> have seen her on the stage—in London. I used to admire +her there."</p> + +<p>"An actress!" I repeated, somewhat taken aback.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I forget what name she played under. But she's a very great lady +now; in with all the swells and rich enough to own a yacht if she wanted +to."</p> + +<p>"But a widow."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, a widow."</p> + +<p>I let a moment of silence pass, then nonchalantly remarked:</p> + +<p>"Why is she going to Europe?"</p> + +<p>But this was too much for my simple-hearted friend. He neither knew nor +had any conjecture ready. But I saw that he did not deplore her resolve. +His reason for this presently appeared.</p> + +<p>"If the little one is found, the mother will want all her caresses. Let +Mrs. Carew hug the boy that God in his mercy has thrown into her arms +and leave other children to their mothers."</p> + +<p>I rose to leave, when I bethought me and stopped to ask another +question.</p> + +<p>"Who is the gentleman I have seen about here—a man with a handsome +face, but very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> pale and thin in his appearance, so much so that it is +quite noticeable?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Mr. Rathbone?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know his name. A light complexioned man, who looks as if +greatly afflicted by some disease or secret depression."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is Mr. Rathbone, sure. He is sickly-looking enough and not +without his trouble, too. They say—but it's all gossip, of course—that +he has set his heart on the widow."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carew?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, who else?"</p> + +<p>"And she?"</p> + +<p>"Why, she would be a fool to care for him, unless—"</p> + +<p>"Unless what?"</p> + +<p>Thomas laughed—a little uneasily, I could not help thinking.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we're talking scandal," said he. "You know the +relationship?"</p> + +<p>"What relationship?"</p> + +<p>"Why, his relationship to the family. He is Gwendolen's cousin and I +have heard it said that he's named after her in Madam Ocumpaugh's +will."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, I see! The next heir, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to the Rathbone property."</p> + +<p>"So that if she is not found—"</p> + +<p>"Your sickly man, in that case, would be well worth the marrying."</p> + +<p>"Is Mrs. Carew so fond of money as all that? I thought she was a woman +of property."</p> + +<p>"She is; but it takes money to make some men interesting. He isn't +handsome enough, or independent enough to go entirely on his own merits. +Besides, he has a troop of relatives hanging on to him—blood-suckers +who more than eat up his salary."</p> + +<p>"A business man, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in some New York house. He was always very fond of Gwendolen, and +I am not surprised to hear that he is very much cut up by our trouble. I +always thought well of Mr. Rathbone myself,"—which same ended the +conversation so far as my interest in it was concerned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>THE BUNGALOW</h3> + +<p>As soon as I could break away and leave him I did, and betook myself to +Mrs. Carew's house. My resolve was taken. Late as it was, I would +attempt an interview with her. The lights still burning above and below +gave me the necessary courage. Yet I was conscious of some embarrassment +in presenting my name to the astonished maid, who was in the act of +extinguishing the hall-light when my vigorous ring prevented her. Seeing +her doubtful look and the hesitation with which she held the door, I +told her that I would wait outside on the porch till she had carried up +my name to Mrs. Carew. This seemed to relieve her and in a moment I was +standing again under the vines waiting for permission to enter the +house. It came very soon, and I had to conquer a fresh embarrassment at +the sight of Mrs. Carew's nimble and gracious figure descending the +stairs in all eagerness to greet me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked, running hastily forward so that we met in the +center of the hall. "Good news? Nothing else could have brought you back +again so soon—and at an hour so late."</p> + +<p>There was a dangerous naïveté in the way she uttered the last three +words which made me suspect the actress. Indeed I was quite conscious as +I met her thrilling and expressive glance, that I should never feel +again the same confidence in her sincerity. My judgment had been +confounded and my insight rendered helpless by what I had heard of her +art, and the fact that she had once been a capable player of "parts."</p> + +<p>But I was man enough and detective enough not to betray my suspicion, +now that I was brought face to face with her. It had always been latent +in my breast, even in the very midst of my greatest admiration for her. +Yet I had never acknowledged to myself of what I suspected her, nor did +I now—not quite—not enough to give that point to my attack which would +have insured me immediate victory or defeat. I was obliged to feel my +way and so answered, with every appearance of friendly confidence:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I fear then that I shall be obliged to ask your pardon. I have no good +news; rather what might be called, if not bad, of a very perplexing +character. The child has been traced"—here I purposely let my voice +halt for an instant—"here."</p> + +<p>"Here?" her eyes opened, her lips parted in a look of surprise so +ingenuous that involuntarily I felt forced to add, by way of +explanation:</p> + +<p>"The child, I mean, who was carried screaming along the highway in a +wagon and for whom the police—and others—have for two days been +looking."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she ejaculated with a slight turn of her head aside as she +motioned me toward a chair. "And is that child Gwendolen? Or don't you +know?" She was all eagerness as she again faced me.</p> + +<p>"That will be known to-morrow," I rejoined, resisting the beautiful +brightness of her face with an effort that must have left its mark on my +own features; for she smiled with unconscious triumph as she held my +eyes for a minute in hers saying softly, "O how you excite me! Tell me +more. Where was the wagon found?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> Who is with it? And how much of all +this have you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>With the last question she had risen, involuntarily, it seemed, and as +though she would rush to her friend if I did not at once reassure her of +that friend's knowledge of a fact which seemed to throw a gleam of hope +upon a situation hitherto entirely unrelieved.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh has been told nothing," I hastily returned, answering +the last and most important question first. "Nor must she be; at least +not till certainty replaces doubt. She is in a critical state, I am +told. To rouse her hopes to-night only to dash them again to-morrow +would be cruel policy."</p> + +<p>With her eyes still on my face, Mrs. Carew slowly reseated herself. +"Then there are doubts," she faltered; "doubts of its being Gwendolen?"</p> + +<p>"There is always doubt," I replied, and openly paused in manifest +non-committal.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she somewhat wildly exclaimed, covering her face with her +hands—beautiful hands covered with jewels—"what suspense! what bitter +and cruel suspense! I feel it almost as much as if it were my Harry!" +was the final cry with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> which she dropped them again. And she did feel +it. Her features had blanched and her form was shaking. "But you have +not answered my questions as to where this wagon is at present and under +whose care? Can't you see how anxious I must be about that—if it should +prove to be Gwendolen?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carew, if I could tell you that, I could tell you more; we shall +both have to wait till to-morrow. Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask. Have +you by any chance the means of entrance to the bungalow? I have a great +and inappeasable desire to see for myself if all the nooks and corners +of that place have given up their secrets. It's an egotistical desire, +no doubt—and may strike you as folly of the rankest—but we detectives +have learned to trust nobody in our investigations, and I shall never be +satisfied till I have looked this whole spot over inch by inch for the +clue which may yet remain there. If there is a clue I must find it."</p> + +<p>"Clue?" She was looking at me a little breathlessly. "Clue to what? Then +she wasn't in the wagon; you are still seeking her—"</p> + +<p>"Always seeking her," I put in.</p> + +<p>"But surely not in the bungalow!" Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> Carew's expression was one of +extreme surprise. "What can you find there?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. But I want to look. I can go to the house for a key, but +it is late; and it seems unpardonable to disturb Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Yet I +shall have to do this if you have not a key; for I shall not sleep till +I have satisfied myself that nothing can be discovered on the immediate +scene of Gwendolen's disappearance, to help forward the rescue we both +are so intent upon."</p> + +<p>"You are right," was the hesitating reply I received. "I have a key; I +will fetch it and if you do not mind, I will accompany you to the +bungalow."</p> + +<p>"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," I replied with my best bow; +white lies come easy in our trade.</p> + +<p>"I will not keep you a minute," she said, rising and going into the +hall. But in an instant she was back. "A word to my maid and a covering +for my head," she explained, "and I will be with you." Her manner +pointed unmistakably to the door.</p> + +<p>I had no alternative but to step out on the porch to await her. But she +was true to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> word and in a moment she had joined me, with the key in +her hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what adventures!" was her breathless cry. "Shall I ever forget this +dreadful, this interminable week! But it is dark. Even the moon is +clouded over. How shall we see? There are no lights in the bungalow."</p> + +<p>"I have a lantern in my pocket. My only hope is that no stray gleam from +it may pierce the shrubbery and bring the police upon us."</p> + +<p>"Do you fear the police?" she chatted away, almost as a child might.</p> + +<p>"No; but I want to do my work alone. There will be little glory or +little money in it if they share any of my discoveries."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" It was an irrepressible exclamation, or so it seemed: but I should +not have noted it if I had not caught, or persuaded myself that I had +caught, the oblique glint from her eye which accompanied it. But it was +very dark just at this time and I could be sure of nothing but that she +kept close to my side and seemed more than once on the point of +addressing me in the short distance we traversed before reaching the +bungalow. But nothing save inarticulate murmurs left her lips and soon +we were too busy, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> our endeavors to unlock the door, to think of +conversation.</p> + +<p>The key she had brought was rusty. Evidently she had not often made use +of it. But after a few futile efforts I succeeded in making it work, and +we stepped into the small building in a silence that was only less +profound than the darkness in which we instantly found ourselves +enveloped. Light was under my hand, however, and in another moment there +opened before us the small square room whose every feature had taken on +a ghostly and unfamiliar air from the strange hour and the unwonted +circumstances. I saw how her impressionable nature was affected by the +scene, and made haste to assume the offhand air I thought most likely to +overcome her apprehension. But the effect of the blank walls before her, +relieved, but in no reassuring way, by the long dark folds of the rugs +hanging straight down over the mysterious partition, held its own +against my well-meant efforts, and I was not surprised to hear her voice +falter as she asked what I expected to find there.</p> + +<p>I pointed to a chair and said:</p> + +<p>"If you will sit down, I will show you, not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> what I expect to find, but +how a detective goes about his work. Whatever our expectations, however +small or however great, we pay full attention to details. Now the detail +which has worried me in regard to this place is the existence of a +certain space in this building unaccounted for by these four walls; in +other words, the portion which lies behind these rugs,"—and throwing +aside the same, I let the flame from my lantern play over the walled-up +space which I had before examined with little satisfaction. "This +partition," I continued, "seems as firm as any of the walls, but I want +to make sure that it hides nothing. If the child should be in some hole +back of this partition, what a horror and what an outrage!"</p> + +<p>"But it is impossible!" came almost in a shriek from the woman behind +me. "The opening is completely walled up. I have never known of its +being otherwise. It looked like that when I came here three years ago. +There is no possible passage through that wall."</p> + +<p>"Why was it ever closed up? Do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. The family are very reticent about it. Some fancy of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's father, I believe. He was an odd man; they tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> all manner +of stories about him. If anything offended him, he rid himself of it +immediately. He took a distaste to that end of the hut, as they used to +call it in the old days before it was remodeled to suit the house, so he +had it walled up. That is all we know about it."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could see behind that wall," I muttered, dropping back the rug +I had all this time held in my hand. "I feel some mystery here which I +can not grasp." Then as I flashed my lantern about in every direction +with no visible result, added with the effort which accompanies such +disappointments: "There is nothing here, Mrs. Carew. Though it is the +scene of the child's disappearance it gives me nothing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<h3>TEMPTATION</h3> + +<p>The sharp rustle of her dress as she suddenly rose struck upon my ear.</p> + +<p>"Then let us go," she cried, with just a slight quiver of eagerness in +her wonderful voice. I comprehended its culture now. "The place is +ghostly at this hour of the night. I believe that I am really afraid."</p> + +<p>With a muttered reassurance, I allowed the full light of the lantern to +fall directly on her face. She <i>was</i> afraid. There was no other +explanation possible for her wild staring eyes and blue quivering lips. +For the instant I hardly knew her; then her glance rose to mine and she +smiled and it was with difficulty I refrained from acknowledging in +words my appreciation of her wonderful flexibility of expression.</p> + +<p>"You are astonished to see me so affected," she said. "It is not so +strange as you think—it is superstition—the horror of what once +happened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> here—the reason for that partition—I know the whole story, +for all my attempts to deny it just now. The hour, too, is +unfortunate—the darkness—your shifting, mysterious light. It was late +like this—and dark—with just the moon to illumine the scene, when +she—Mr. Trevitt, do you want to know the story of this place?—the old, +much guessed-at, never-really-understood story which led first to its +complete abandonment, then to the building of that dividing wall and +finally to the restoration of this portion and of this alone? Do you?"</p> + +<p>Her eagerness, in such startling contrast to the reticence she had shown +on this very subject a few minutes before, affected me peculiarly. I +wanted to hear the story—any one would who had listened to the gossip +of this neighborhood for years, but—</p> + +<p>She evidently did not mean to give me time to understand my own +hesitation.</p> + +<p>"I have the whole history—the touching, hardly-to-be-believed +history—up at my house at this very moment. It was written by—no, I +will let you guess."</p> + +<p>The naïveté of her smile made me forget the force of its late +expression.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mr. Ocumpaugh?" I ventured.</p> + +<p>"Which Mr. Ocumpaugh? There have been so many." She began slowly, +naturally, to move toward the door.</p> + +<p>"I can not guess."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall have to tell you. It was written by the one who—Come! I +will tell you outside. I haven't any courage here."</p> + +<p>"But I have."</p> + +<p>"You haven't read the story."</p> + +<p>"Never mind; tell me who the writer was."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ocumpaugh's father; he, by whose orders this partition was put up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have <i>his</i> story—written—and by himself! You are fortunate, +Mrs. Carew."</p> + +<p>I had turned the lantern from her face, but not so far that I did not +detect the deep flush which dyed her whole countenance at these words.</p> + +<p>"I am," she emphatically returned, meeting my eyes with a steady look I +was not sufficiently expert with women's ways, or at all events with +this woman's ways, to understand. "Seldom has such a tale been +written—seldom, let us thank God, has there been an equal occasion for +it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You interest me," I said.</p> + +<p>And she did. Little as this history might have to do with the finding of +Gwendolen, I felt an almost imperative necessity of satisfying my +curiosity in regard to it, though I knew she had deliberately roused +this curiosity for a purpose which, if not comprehensible to me, was of +marked importance to her and not altogether for the reason she had been +pleased to give me. Possibly it was on account of this last mentioned +conviction that I allowed myself to be so interested.</p> + +<p>"It is late," she murmured with a final glance towards those dismal +hangings which in my present mood I should not have been so greatly +surprised to see stir under her look. "However, if you will pardon the +hour and accept a seat in my small library, I will show you what only +one other person has seen besides myself."</p> + +<p>It was a temptation; for several reasons it was a temptation; yet—</p> + +<p>"I want you to see why I am frightened of this place," she said, +flashing her eyes upon me with an almost girlish appeal.</p> + +<p>"I will go," said I; and following her quickly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> out, I locked the +bungalow door, and ignoring the hand she extended toward me, dropped the +key into my pocket.</p> + +<p>I thought I heard a little gasp—the least, the smallest of sounds +possible. But if so, the feeling which prompted it was not apparent in +her manner or her voice as she led the way back to her house, and +ushered me into a hall full of packing-boxes and the general litter +accompanying an approaching departure.</p> + +<p>"You will excuse the disorder," she cried as she piloted me through +these various encumbrances to a small but exquisitely furnished room +still glorying in its full complement of ornaments and pictures. "This +trouble which has come to one I love has made it very hard for me to do +anything. I feel helpless, at times, completely helpless."</p> + +<p>The dejection she expressed was but momentary, however. In another +instant she was pointing out a chair and begging me to make myself +comfortable while she went for the letter (I think she called it a +letter) which I had come there to read.</p> + +<p>What was I to think of her? What was I to think of myself? And what +would the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> story tell me to warrant the loss of what might have proved a +most valuable hour? I had not answered these questions when she +reëntered with a bundle in her hand of discolored—I should almost call +them mouldered—sheets of much crumpled paper.</p> + +<p>"These—" she began; then, seeing me look at them with something like +suspicion, she paused until she caught my eye, when she added gravely, +"these came to me from Mrs. Ocumpaugh. How she got them you will have to +ask her. I should say, judging from appearances—" Here she took a seat +opposite me at a small table near which I had been placed—"that they +must have been found in some old chest or possibly in some hidden drawer +of one of those curious antique desks of which more than one was +discovered in the garrets of the old house when it was pulled down to +give place to the new one."</p> + +<p>"Is this letter, as you call it, so old?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"It is dated thirty-five years ago."</p> + +<p>"The garret must have been a damp one," I remarked.</p> + +<p>She flashed me a look—I thought of it more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> than once afterward—and +asked if she should do the reading or I.</p> + +<p>"You," I rejoined, all afire with the prospect of listening to her +remarkable voice in what I had every reason to believe would call forth +its full expression. "Only let me look at those sheets first, and +understand as perfectly as I may, just what it is you are going to read +to me."</p> + +<p>"It's an explanation written for his heirs by Mr. Ocumpaugh. The story +itself," she went on, handing me over the papers she held, "begins +abruptly. From the way the sheet is torn across at the top, I judge that +the narrative itself was preceded by some introductory words now +lacking. When I have read it to you, I will tell you what I think those +introductory words were."</p> + +<p>I handed back the sheets. There seemed to be a spell in the +air—possibly it arose from her manner, which was one to rouse +expectation even in one whose imagination had not already been stirred +by a visit at night and in more than commonly bewildering company to the +place whose dark and hitherto unknown secret I was about to hear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am ready," I said, feeling my strange position, but not anxious to +change it just then for any other conceivable one.</p> + +<p>She drew a deep breath; again fixed me with her strange, compelling +eyes, and with the final remark:</p> + +<p>"The present no longer exists, we are back in the seventies—" began +this enthralling tale.</p> + +<p>I did not move till the last line dropped from her lips.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>THE SECRET OF THE OLD PAVILION</h3> + +<p>I was as sane that night as I had ever been in my life. I am quite sure +of this, though I had had a merry time enough earlier in the evening +with my friends in the old pavilion (that time-honored retreat of my +ancestors), whose desolation I had thought to dissipate with a little +harmless revelry. Wine does not disturb my reason—the little wine I +drank under that unwholesome roof—nor am I a man given to sudden +excitements or untoward impulses.</p> + +<p>Yet this thing happened to me.</p> + +<p>It was after leaving the pavilion. My companions had all ridden away and +I was standing on the lawn beyond my library windows, recalling my +pleasure with them and gazing somewhat idly, I own, at that bare portion +of the old wall where the tree fell a year ago (the place where the moon +strikes with such a glitter when it rides high, as it did that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> night), +when—believe it or not, it is all one to me—I became conscious of a +sudden mental dread, inexplicable and alarming, which, seizing me after +an hour of unmixed pleasure and gaiety, took such a firm grip upon my +imagination that I fain would have turned my back upon the night and its +influences, only my eyes would not leave that open space of wall where I +now saw pass—not the shadow, but the veritable body of a large, black, +hungry-looking dog, which, while I looked, turned into the open gateway +connecting with the pavilion and disappeared.</p> + +<p>With it went the oppression which held me spell-bound. The ice melted +from my blood; I could move my limbs, and again control my thoughts and +exercise my will.</p> + +<p>Forcing a laugh, I whistled to that dog. The lights with which the +banquet had been illuminated were out, and every servant had left the +place; but the tables had not been entirely cleared, and I could well +understand what had drawn this strange animal thither. I whistled then, +and whistled peremptorily; but no dog answered my call. Angry, for the +rules are strict at my stables in regard to wandering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> brutes, I strode +toward the pavilion. Entering the great gap in the wall where a gate had +once hung, I surveyed the dismal interior before me, with feelings I +could not but consider odd in a strong man like myself. Though the wine +was scarcely dry in the glass which an hour before I had raised in this +very spot amid cheers and laughter, I found it a difficult matter to +reënter there now, in the dead of night, alone and without light.</p> + +<p>For this building, harmless as it had always seemed, had been, in a way, +cursed. For no reason that he ever gave, my father had doomed this +ancient adjunct to our home to perpetual solitude and decay. By his will +he had forbidden it to be destroyed—a wish respected by my guardians +and afterward by myself—and though there was nothing to hinder its +being cared for and in a manner used, the dismal influence which had +pervaded the place ever since his death had, under the sensations I have +mentioned, deepened into horror and an unspeakable repugnance.</p> + +<p>Yet never having had any reason to believe myself a coward, I took +boldly enough the few steps necessary to carry me inside its dismal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +precincts; and meeting with nothing but darkness and silence, began to +whistle again for the dog I had certainly seen enter here.</p> + +<p>But no dog appeared.</p> + +<p>Hastening out, I took my way toward the stables. As I did so I glanced +back, and again my eyes fell on that place in the wall gleaming white in +the moonlight. Again I felt the chill, the horror! Again my eyes +remained glued to this one spot; and again I beheld the passing of that +dog, running with jaws extended and head held low—fearsome, uncanny, +supernaturally horrible; a thing to flee from, if one could only flee +instead of standing stock-still on the sward, gazing with eyes that +seemed starting from their sockets till it had plunged through that gap +in the wall and again disappeared.</p> + +<p>The occult and the imaginary have never appealed to me, and the moment I +felt myself a man again, I hurried on to the stables to call up my man +Jared.</p> + +<p>But half-way there I paused, struck by an odd remembrance. This father +of mine, Philo Ocumpaugh, had died, or so his old servants had said, +under peculiar circumstances. I had forgotten them till now—such +stories<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> make poor headway with me—but if I was not mistaken, the facts +were these:</p> + +<p>He had been ailing long, and his nurses had got used to the sight of his +gaunt, white figure sitting propped up, but speechless, in the great bed +opposite the stretch of blank wall in the corner bedroom, where a +picture of his first wife, the wife of his youth, had once hung, but +which, for some years now, had been removed to where there were fewer +shadows and more sunlight. He had never been a talkative man, and in all +the five years of my own memory of him, I had never heard him raise his +voice except in command, or when the duties of hospitality required it. +Now, with the shadow of death upon him, he was absolutely speechless, +and his nurses were obliged to guess at his wishes by the movement of +his hands or the direction of his eyes. Yet he was not morose, and +sometimes was seen to struggle with the guards holding his tongue, as +though he would fain have loosed himself from their inexorable control. +Yet he never succeeded in doing so, and the nurses sat by and saw no +difference in him, till suddenly the candle, posed on a table near by, +flickered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> and went out, leaving only moonlight in the room. It was +moonlight so brilliant that the place seemed brighter than before, +though the beams were all concentrated on one spot, a blank space in the +middle of the wall upon which those two dim orbs in the bed were fixed +in an expectancy none there understood, for none knew that the summons +had come, and that for him the angel of death was at that moment +standing in the room.</p> + +<p>Yet as moonlight is not the natural light for a sick man's bedside, one +amongst them had risen for another candle, when something—I had never +stopped to hear them say what—made him pause and look back, when he saw +distinctly outlined upon the white wall-space I have mentioned, the +figure—the unimaginable figure of a dog, large, fierce and +hungry-looking, which dashed by and—was gone. Simultaneously a cry came +from the bed, the first words for months—"Aline!"—the name of his +girl-wife, dead and gone for years. All sprang; some to chase the dog, +one to aid and comfort the sick man. But no dog was there, nor did he +need comfort more. He had died with that cry on his lips, and as they +gazed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> at his face, sunk low now in his pillow as if he had started up +and fallen back, a dead weight, they felt the terror of the moment grow +upon them till they, too, were speechless. For the aged features were +drawn into lines of unspeakable anguish and horror.</p> + +<p>But as the night passed and morning came, all these lines smoothed out, +and when they buried him, those who had known him well talked of the +beautiful serenity which illumined the face which, since their first +remembrance of him, had carried the secret of a profound and unbroken +melancholy. Of the dog, nothing was said, even in whispers, till time +had hallowed that grave, and the little children about, grown to be men +and women. Then the garrulity of age had its way.</p> + +<p>This story, and the images it called up, came like a shock as I halted +there, and instead of going on to the stables, I turned my steps toward +the house, where I summoned from his bed a certain old servant who had +lived longer in the family than myself.</p> + +<p>Bidding him bring a lantern, I waited for him on the porch, and when he +came, I told him what I had seen. Instantly I knew that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> it was no new +story to him. He turned very pale and set down the lantern, which was +shaking very visibly in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Did you look up?" he asked; "when you were in the pavilion, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"No; why should I? The dog was on the ground. Besides—"</p> + +<p>"Let us go down to the pavilion," he whispered. "I want to see for +myself if—if—"</p> + +<p>"If what, Jared?"</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes on me, but did not answer. Stooping, I lifted the +lantern and put it in his hand. He was quaking like a leaf, but there +was a determination in his face far beyond the ordinary. What made him +quake—he who knew of this dog only by hearsay—and what, in spite of +this fear, gave him such resolution? I followed in his wake to see what +it was.</p> + +<p>The moon still shone clear upon the lawn, and it was with a certain +renewal of my former apprehensions that I approached the spot on the +wall where I had seen what I was satisfied not to see again. But though +I glanced that way—what man could have avoided it?—I perceived nothing +but the bare paint, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> we went on and passed in without a word, Jared +leading the way.</p> + +<p>But once on the threshold of the pavilion itself, it was for him to show +the coward. Turning, he made me a gesture; one I did not understand; and +seeing that I did not understand it, he said, after a fearful look +around:</p> + +<p>"Do not mind the dog; that was but an appearance. Lift your eyes to the +ceiling—over there—at the extreme end toward the south—do you +see—<i>what</i> do you see?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," I replied, amazed at what struck me as utter folly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing?" he repeated in a relieved voice, as he lifted up his lantern. +"Ah!" came in a sort of muttered shriek from his lips, as he pointed up, +here and there, along the farther ceiling, over which the light now +played freely and fully. "What is that spot, and that spot, and that? +They were not there to-day. I was in here before the banquet, and <i>I</i> +would have seen. What is it? Master, what is it? They call it—"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, what do they call it?" I asked impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Blood! Do you not see that it is blood?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> What else is red and shiny and +shows in such great drops—"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" I vociferated, taking the lantern in my own hand. "Blood on +the ceiling of my old pavilion? Where could it come from? There was no +quarrel, no fight; only hilarity—"</p> + +<p>"Where did the dog come from?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>I dropped my arm, staring at him in mingled anger and a certain +half-understood sympathy.</p> + +<p>"You think these stains—" I began.</p> + +<p>"Are as unreal as the dog? Yes, master."</p> + +<p>Feeling as if I were in a dream, I tossed up the lantern again. The +drops were still there, but no longer single or scattered. From side to +side, the ceiling at this one end of the building oozed with the thick +red moisture to which he had given so dreadful a name.</p> + +<p>Stepping back for fear the stains would resolve themselves into rain and +drop upon my forehead, I stared at Jared, who had now retreated toward +the door.</p> + +<p>"What makes you think it blood?" I demanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because some have smelt and tasted it. We have never talked about it, +but this is not an uncommon occurrence. To-morrow all these stains will +be gone. They come when the dog circles the wall. Whence, no one knows. +It is our mystery. All the old servants have heard of it more than once. +The new ones have never been told. Nor would I have told you if you had +not seen the dog. It was a matter of honor with us."</p> + +<p>I looked at him, saw that he believed every word he said, threw another +glance at the ceiling, and led the way out. When we had reached the +house again, I said:</p> + +<p>"You are acquainted with the tradition underlying these appearances, as +you call them. What is it?"</p> + +<p>He could not tell me. He knew no more than he had already stated—gossip +and old wives' tales. But later, a certain manuscript came into my +possession through my lawyer, which I will append to this.</p> + +<p>It was written by my unhappy father, some little time before his last +illness, and given into the charge of the legal representative of our +family, with the express injunction that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> its seal was to remain intact +if for twenty years the apparition which had haunted him did not present +itself to the eyes of any of his children. But if within that time his +experience should repeat itself in theirs, this document was to be +handed over to the occupant of Homewood. Nineteen out of the twenty +years had elapsed, without the dog being seen or the ceiling of the +pavilion dropping blood. But not the twentieth; hence, the document was +mine.</p> + +<p>You can easily conceive with what feelings I opened it. It was headed +with this simple line:</p> + +<h4>MY STORY WHICH I CAN WRITE BUT COULD NEVER TELL.</h4> + +<p>I am cursed with an inability to speak when I am most deeply moved, +either by anger or tenderness. This misfortune has wrecked my life. On +the verge of old age, the sorrows and the mistakes of my early life fill +my thoughts so completely that I see but one face, hear but one voice; +yet when she was living—when <i>she</i> could see and hear, my tongue was +silent and she never knew. Aline! my Aline!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>I married her when I was thirty-five and she eighteen. All the world +knows this; but what it does not know is that I loved her—toy, +plaything that she was—a body without a mind—(or, so I considered +her)—while she had but followed the wishes of her relatives in giving +her sweet youth to a cold and reticent man who might love, indeed, but +who had no power to tell that love, or even to show it in the ways which +women like, and which she liked, as I found out when it was too late.</p> + +<p>I could not help but love her. It was ingrained within me; a part of the +curse of my life to love this gentle, thoughtless, alluring thing to +which I had given my name. She had a smile—it did not come often—which +tore at my heart-strings as it welled up, just stirring the dimples in +her cheeks, and died away again in a strange and moving sweetness. +Though I reckoned her at her worth; knew that her charm was all +physical; that she neither did nor could understand a passion like mine, +much less return it, it was none the less irresistible, and I have known +myself to stand before a certain book-shelf in the turn of the stairway +for many minutes together,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> because I knew that she would soon be coming +down, and that, when she did, some ribbon from her gown would flutter by +me, and I should feel the soft contact and go away happy to my books. +Yet, if she stopped to look back at me, I could only return her look +with one she doubtless called harsh, for she had not eyes to see below +the surface.</p> + +<p>I tell you all this, lest you may not understand. She was not your +mother and you may begrudge me the affection I felt for her; if so, +thrust these leaves into the fire and seek not the explanation of what +has surprised you; for there is no word written here which does not find +its meaning in the intense love I bore for her, my young girl-wife, and +the tragedy which this love has brought into my life. She was slight in +body, slight in mind and of slight feeling. I first discovered this last +on the day I put my mother's ring on her finger. She laughed as I fitted +it close and kissed the little hand. Not from embarrassment or childish +impulse; I could have understood that; but indifferently, like one who +did not know and never could. Yet I married her, and for six months +lived in a fool's paradise. Then came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> that hall. It was held near here, +very near, at one of our neighbor's, in fact. I remember that we walked, +and that, coming to the driveway, I lifted her and carried her across. +Not with a smile—do not think it. More likely with a frown, though my +heart was warm and happy; for when I set her down, she shook herself, +and I thought she did it to hide a shudder, and then I could not have +spoken a word had my life depended on it.</p> + +<p>I little knew what lay back of that shudder. Even after I had seen her +dance with him, not only once, but twice, I never dreamed that her +thoughts, light though they were, were not all with me. It took that +morsel of paper and the plain words it contained to satisfy me of this, +and then— But passion is making me incoherent. What do you know of that +scrap of paper, hidden from the whole world from the moment I first read +it till this hour of full confession? It fluttered from some one's hand +during the dance. I did not see whose. I only saw it after it had fallen +at my feet, and as it lay there open I naturally read the words. They +were written by a man to a woman, urging flight and setting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> the hour +and place for meeting. I was conscious of shame in reading it, and let +these last details escape me. As I put it in my pocket I remember +thinking, "Some poor devil made miserable!" for there had been hint in +it of the husband. But I had no thought—I swear it before God—of who +that husband was till I beheld her flit back through the open doorway, +with terror in her mien and searching eyes fixed on the floor. Then hell +opened before me, and I saw my happiness go down into gulfs I had never +before sounded, even in imagination.</p> + +<p>But even at that evil hour my countenance scarcely changed—I was +opposite a mirror, and I caught a glimpse of myself as I moved. But +there must have been some change in my voice—for when I addressed her, +she started and turned her face upon me with a wild and pathetic look +which knocked so at my heart that I wished I had never read those words, +and so could return her the paper with no misgiving as to its contents. +But having read it, I could not do this; so, beyond a petty greeting, I +said nothing and let the moment pass, and she with it; for couples were +dancing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> and she was soon again in the whirl. I am not a dancing man +myself, and I had leisure to think and madden myself with contemplation +of my wrecked life and questions as to what I should do to her and to +him, and to the world where such things could happen. I had forgotten +the details of time and place, or rather had put them out of my mind, +and I would not look at the words again—could not. But as the minutes +went by, the remembrance returned, startling and convincing, that the +hour was two and the place—our old pavilion.</p> + +<p>I walked about after that like a man in whose breast the sources of life +are frozen. I chatted—I who never chatted—with women, and with men. I +even smiled—once. That was when my little white-faced wife asked me if +it were not time to go home. Even a man under torture might find +strength to smile if the inquisitor should ask if he were not ready to +be released.</p> + +<p>And we went home.</p> + +<p>I did not carry her this time across the driveway; but when we parted in +the library, where I always spent an hour before retiring, I picked out +a lily from a vase of flowers standing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> on my desk and held it out to +her. She stared at it for a moment, quite as white as the lily, then she +slowly put out her hand and took it. I felt no mercy after that, and +bade her good-night with the remark that I should have to write far into +the morning, and that she need not worry over my light, which I should +not probably put out till she was half through with her night's rest.</p> + +<p>For answer, she dropped the lily. I found it next morning lying withered +and brown, in the hall-way.</p> + +<p>That light did burn far into the morning; but I was not there to trim +it. Before the fatal hour had struck, I had left the house and made my +way to the pavilion. As I crossed the sward I saw the gleam of a lantern +at the masthead of a small boat riding near our own landing-place, and I +understood where he was at this hour, and by what route he hoped to take +my darling. "A route she will never travel," thought I, striving to keep +out of my mind and conscience the vision of another route, another +travel, which that sweet young body might take if my mood held and my +purpose strengthened.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was no moon that night, and the copse in which our pavilion stands +was like a blot against the starless heavens. As I drew near it, my dog, +the invariable companion of my walks, lifted a short, sharp bark from +the stables. But I knew whose hand had fastened him, and I went on +without giving him a thought. At the door of the pavilion I stopped. All +was dark within as without, and the silence was something to overwhelm +the heart. She was not there then, nor was he. But he would be coming +soon, and up or down between the double hedge-rows.</p> + +<p>I went to meet him. It was a small detail, but possibly a necessary one. +In her eyes he was probably handsome and gifted with all that I openly +lacked. But he was shallow and small for a man like me to be concerned +about. I laughed inwardly and with very conceivable scorn as I heard the +faint fall of his footsteps in the darkness. It was nearly two and he +meant to be prompt.</p> + +<p>Our coming together in that narrow path was very much what I expected it +to be. I had put out my arms and touched the hedge on either side, so +that he could not escape me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> When I heard him drawing close, I found +the voice I had not had for her, and observed very quietly and with the +cold politeness of a messenger:</p> + +<p>"My wife finds herself indisposed since the ball, and begs to be excused +from joining you in the pleasant sail you proposed to her."</p> + +<p>That, and no more; except that when he started and almost fell into my +arms, I found strength to add:</p> + +<p>"The wind blows fresh to-night; you will have no difficulty in leaving +this shore. The difficulty will be to return."</p> + +<p>I had no heart to kill him; he was young and he was frightened. I heard +the sob in his throat as I dropped my arm and he went flying down to the +river.</p> + +<p>This was child's play; the rest—</p> + +<p>My portion is to tell it; forty years ago it all befell, and till now no +word of it has ever left my lips.</p> + +<p>There was no sound of her advancing tread across the lawn as I stepped +back into my own grounds to enter the pavilion. But as I left the path +and put foot inside the wall, I heard a far, faint sound like the harsh +closing of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> door in timid hands, followed by another bark from the +dog, louder and sharper than the first—for he did not recognize my +Aline as mistress, though I had striven for six months to teach him the +place she held in my heart.</p> + +<p>By this I knew she was coming, and that what preparations I had to make +must be made soon. They were not many. Entering the well-known place, I +lit the lantern I had brought with me and set it down near the door. It +cast a feeble light about the entrance, but left great shadows in the +rear. This I had calculated on, and into these shadows I now stepped.</p> + +<p>The pavilion, as you remember it, is not what it was then. I had used it +little, fancying more my own library up at the house, but it was not +utterly without furnishings, and to young eyes might even look +attractive, with love, or fancied love, to mellow its harsh lines and +lend romance to its solitude. At this hour and under these circumstances +it was a dismal hole to me; and as I stood there waiting, I thought how +the place fitted the deed—if deed it was to be.</p> + +<p>I had always thought her timid, afraid of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> the night and all threatening +things. But as I listened to the sound of her soft footfall at the door, +I realized that even her breast could grow strong under the influence of +a real or fancied passion. It was a shock—but I did not cry out—only +set my teeth together and turned a little so that what light there was +would fall on my form rather than on my face.</p> + +<p>She entered; I felt rather than heard the tremulous push she gave to the +door, and the quick drawing in of her breath as she put her foot across +the threshold. These sapped my courage. This fear, this almost +hesitation, drew me from thoughts of myself to thoughts of her, and it +was in a daze of mingled purposes and regrets that I felt her at last at +my side.</p> + +<p>"Walter!" fell softly, doubtfully from her lips.</p> + +<p>It was the name of him the dip of whose oars as he made for his boat I +could now faintly hear in the river below us.</p> + +<p>Turning, I looked her in the face.</p> + +<p>"You are late," said I. God gave me words in my extremity. "Walter has +gone." Then, as the madness of terror replaced love in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> eyes, I +lifted her forcibly and carried her to the window, where I drew aside +the vines. "That is his boat's lantern you see drawing away from the +dock. I bade him God-speed. He will not come again."</p> + +<p>Without a word she looked, then fell back on my arm. It was not life +which forsook her face, and left her whole sweet body inert—that I +could have borne, for did she not merit death who had killed my love, +killed me?—but happiness, the glow of youthful blood, the dreams of a +youthful brain. And seeing this, seeing that the heart I thought a +child's heart had gone down in this shipwreck, I felt my anger swell and +master me body and soul, and before I knew it, I was towering over her +and she was cowering at my feet, crushed and with hands held up in +defense, hands that had been like rose-leaves in my grasp, futile hands, +but raised now in entreaty for her life to me, to me who had loved her.</p> + +<p>Why did they not move me? Why did my muscles tighten instead of relax? I +do not know; I had never thought myself a cruel man, but at that instant +I felt that this toy of my strong manhood had done harm far beyond<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> its +value, and that it would comfort me to break it and toss it far aside; +only I could not bear the cry which now left her lips:</p> + +<p>"I am so young! not yet, not yet, Philo! I am so young! Let me live a +little while."</p> + +<p>Was it a woman's plea, conscious of the tenderness she appealed to, or +only a child's instinctive grasping after life, just life? If it were +the first, it would be easy to finish; but a child's terror, a child's +longing—that pulled hard at my manhood, and under the possibility, my +own arm fell.</p> + +<p>Instantly her head drooped. No defense did she utter; no further plea +did she make; she simply waited.</p> + +<p>"You have deserved death." This I managed to utter. "But if you will +swear to obey me, you shall not pay your forfeit till you have had a +further taste of life. Not in my house; there is not sufficient freedom +within its walls for you; but in the broad world, where people dance and +sing and grow old at their leisure, without duty and without care. For +three months you shall have this, and have it to your heart's content. +Then you shall come back to me my true wife, if your heart so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> prompts; +if not, to tell me of your failure and quit me for ever. But—" Here I +fear my voice grew terrible, for her hands instinctively rose again. +"Those three months must be lived unstained. As you are in God's sight +this hour, I demand of you to swear that, if you forget this or +disregard it, or for any cause subject my name to dishonor, that you +will return unbidden at the first moment your reason returns to you, to +take what punishment I will. On this condition I send you away to-night. +Aline, will you promise?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer; but her face rose. I did not understand its look. +There was pathos in it, and something else. That something else troubled +me.</p> + +<p>"Are you dissatisfied?" I asked. "Is the time too short? Do you want +more months for dancing?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head and the little hands rose again:</p> + +<p>"Do not send me away," she faintly entreated; "I don't know why—but +I—had rather stay."</p> + +<p>"With me? Impossible. Are you ready to promise, Aline?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then she rose and looked me in the eye with courage, almost with +resolution.</p> + +<p>"As I live!" said she.</p> + +<p>And I knew she would keep her word.</p> + +<p>The next thing I remember of that night was the sight of her little +white, shivering figure looking out at me from the carriage that was to +carry her away. The night was cold, and I had tucked her in with as much +care as I might have done the evening before, when I still worshiped +her, still thought her mine, or at least as much mine as she was any +one's. When I had done this and pressed a generous gift into her hand, I +stood a minute at the carriage door, in pity of her aspect. She looked +so pinched and pale, so dazed and hopeless. Had she been alone—but the +companion with whom I had provided her was at her side and my tongue was +tied. I turned, and the driver started up the horses.</p> + +<p>"Philo!" I heard blown by me on the wind.</p> + +<p>Was it she who called? No, for there was anguish in the cry, the anguish +of a woman, and she was only a frightened, disheartened child whom I had +sent away to—dance.</p> + +<p>One month, two months went by, and I began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> to take up my life. Another, +and she would be home for good or ill. I thought that I could live +through that other. I had heard of her; not from her—that I did not +require; and the stories were all of the same character. She was +enjoying life in the great city to which I had sent her; radiant at +night, if a little spiritless by day. She was at balls, at concerts and +at theaters. She wore jewels and shone with the best; I might be proud +of her conquests and the sweetness and dignity with which she bore +herself. Thus her friends wrote.</p> + +<p>But she wrote nothing; I had not required it. Once, some one—a visitor +at the house—spoke of having seen her. "She was surrounded with +admirers," he had said. "How early our American women ripen!" was his +comment. "She held her head like one who has held sway for years; but I +thought her a trifle worn; as if pleasure absorbed too much of her +sleep. You must look out for her, Judge."</p> + +<p>And I smiled grimly enough, I own, to think just how I was looking out +for her.</p> + +<p>Then came the thunderbolt.</p> + +<p>"I am told that no one ever sees her in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> day-time; that she is +always busy, days. But she does not look as if she took that time for +rest. What can your little wife be doing? You ought to hurry up that +important opinion of yours and go see."</p> + +<p>He was right; what was she doing? And why shouldn't I go see? There was +no obstacle but my own will; but that is the greatest obstacle a man can +have. I remained at Homewood, but the four weeks of our further +probation looked like a year.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, I had my way with the pavilion. I have shown you my heart, +sometimes at its best, oftenest at its worst. I will show it to you +again in this. I had a wall built round it, close against the thicket in +which it lay embedded. This wall was painted white, and near it I had +lamps placed which were lit at nightfall. Should a figure pass that wall +I could see it from my window. No one could enter that doorway now, +without running the risk of my seeing him from where I sat at my desk.</p> + +<p>Did I feel easier? I do not know that I did. I merely followed an +impulse I dared not name to myself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>Two weeks of this final month went by. Then (it was in the evening) some +one came running up from the grounds, with the message that Mrs. +Ocumpaugh had ridden into the gate, but that she was not ready to enter +the house. Would I meet her at the pavilion?</p> + +<p>I was in the library, at my desk, with my eyes on the wall, when this +was told me. I had just seen the fierce figure of that unmanageable dog +of mine run by that white surface, and my lips were open to order him +tied up, when he, and everything else in this whole world, was forgotten +in this crushing news of her return. For the three months were not up +and her presence here could mean but one thing—she had found temptation +too much for her, and she had come back to tell me so in obedience to +her promise.</p> + +<p>"I will go meet Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I said.</p> + +<p>The man stared.</p> + +<p>"I will go meet Mrs. Ocumpaugh now," I repeated, and tried to rise.</p> + +<p>But my limbs refused; death had entered my heart, and it was some few +minutes before I found myself upon the lawn outside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>When I got there I was trembling and so uncertain of movement that I +tottered at the gate. But seeing signs of her presence within, I +straightened myself and went in.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ill_006.jpg" width="500" height="371" alt=""I SHOULD NOT HAVE KNOWN THE WOMAN WHO STOOD THERE WITH MY NAME FORMED ON HER LIPS."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I SHOULD NOT HAVE KNOWN THE WOMAN WHO STOOD THERE WITH MY NAME FORMED ON HER LIPS."</span> +</div> + +<p>She was standing at the extreme end of the room when I entered, in the +full light of the solitary moonbeam which shot in at the western +casement. She had thrown aside her hat and coat, and never in all my +life had I seen anything so ethereal as the worn face and wasted form +she thus disclosed. Had it not been for the haunting and pathetic smile +which by some freak of fate gave poignancy to her otherwise infantile +beauty, I should not have known the woman who stood there with my name +formed on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Destroyed!" was my thought; and the rage which I felt that moment +against fate flushed my whole being, and my arms went up, not in threat +against her, but to an avenging Heaven, when I heard an impetuous rush, +an angry growl, and the delicate, trembling figure went down under the +leap of the monstrous animal which I had taught to love me, but could +never teach to love her.</p> + +<p>In horror and unspeakable anguish of soul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> I called off the dog; and, +stooping with bitter cries, I took her in my arms.</p> + +<p>"Hurt?" I gasped. "Hurt, Aline?" I looked at her anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No," she whispered, "happy." And before I realized my own feelings or +the passion with which I drew her to my breast, she had nestled her head +against my heart, smiled and died.</p> + +<p>The shock of the dog's onslaught had killed her.</p> + +<p>I would not believe it at first, but when I was quite sure, I took out +the pistol I carried in my breast and shot the cowering brute midway +between the eyes.</p> + +<p>When this was done, I turned back to her. There was no light but the +moon, and I needed no other. The clear beams falling on her face made +her look pure and stainless and sweet. I could almost have loved her +again as I marked the tender smile which lingered from that passing +moment on her lips. "Happy," she had said. What did she mean by that +"Happy"? As I asked myself I heard a cry. The companion who had been +with her had rushed in at the doorway, and was gazing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> in sorrow and +amazement at the white form lying outstretched and senseless against +that farther wall.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she cried, in a tone that assured me she had not seen the dog +lying in his blood at my back; "dead already? dead at the first glance? +at the first word? Ah, she knew better than I, poor lamb. I thought she +would get well if she once got home. She wearied so for you, sir, and +for Homewood!"</p> + +<p>I thought myself quite mad; past understanding aright the words +addressed to me.</p> + +<p>"She wearied—" I began.</p> + +<p>"With all her soul for you and Homewood," the young woman repeated. +"That is, since her illness developed."</p> + +<p>"Her illness?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she has been ill ever since she went away. The cold of that first +journey was too much for her. But she kept up for several weeks—doing +what no other woman ever did before with so little strength and so +little hope. Danced at night and—"</p> + +<p>"And—and—what by day, what?" I could hardly get the words out of my +mouth.</p> + +<p>"Studied. Learned what she thought you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> would +like—French—music—politics. It was to have been a surprise. Poor +soul! it took her very life. She did not sleep— Oh, sir, what is it?"</p> + +<p>I was standing over her, probably a terrifying figure. Lights were +playing before my eyes, strange sounds were in my ears, everything about +me seemed resolving itself into chaos.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" I finally gasped. "She studied—to please <i>me</i>? Why +did she come back, then, so soon—" I paused, choked. I had been about +to give away my secret. "I mean, why did she come thus suddenly, without +warning me of what I might expect? I would have gone—"</p> + +<p>"I told her so; but she was very determined to come to you herself—to +this very pavilion. She had set the time later, but this morning the +doctor told her that her symptoms were alarming, and without consulting +him or heeding the advice of any of us, she started for home. She was +buoyant on the way, and more than once I heard her softly repeating your +name. Her heart was very loving— Oh, sir, you are ill!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, no," I cried, crushing my hand against my mouth to keep down the +cry of anguish and despair which tore its way up from my heart. "Before +other hands touch her, other eyes see her, tell me when she began—I +will not say to love me, but to weary for me and—Homewood."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has told you herself. Here is the letter, sir, she bade me +give you if she did not reach here alive. She wrote it this morning, +after the doctor told her what I have said."</p> + +<p>"Give—give—"</p> + +<p>She put it in my hand. I glanced at it in the moonlight, read the first +few words, and felt the world reel round me. Thrusting the letter in my +breast, I bade the woman, who watched me with fascinated eyes, to go now +and rouse the house. When she was gone I stepped back into the shadows, +and catching hold of the murderous beast, I dragged him out and about +the wall to a thick clump of bushes. Here I left him and went back to my +darling. When they came in, they found her in my arms. Her head had +fallen back and I was staring, staring, at her white throat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>That night, when all was done for her which could be done, I shut myself +into my library and again opened that precious letter. I give it, to +show how men may be mistaken when they seek to weigh women's souls:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>My Husband:</i></p> + +<p>I love you. As I shall be dead when you read this, I may say so +without fear of rebuff. I did not love you then; I did not love +anybody; I was thoughtless and fond of pleasure, and craved +affectionate words. He saw this and worked on my folly; but when +his project failed and I saw his boat creep away, I found that what +feeling I had was for the man who had thwarted him, and I felt +myself saved.</p> + +<p>If I had not taken cold that night I might have lived to prove +this. I know that you do not love me very much, but perhaps you +would have done so had you seen me grow a little wiser and more +like what your wife should be. I was trying when—O Philo, I can +not write—I can not think. I am coming to you—I +love—forgive—and take me back again, alive or dead. I love you—I +love—</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>As I finished, the light, which had been burning low, suddenly went out. +The window which opened before me was still unshuttered. Before me, +across the wide spaces of the lawn, shone the pavilion wall, white in +the moonlight. As I stared in horror at it, a trembling seized my whole +body, and the hair on my head rose. The dark figure of a running dog had +passed across it—<i>the dog which lay dead under the bushes</i>.</p> + +<p>"God's punishment," I murmured, and laid my head down on that pathetic +letter and sobbed.</p> + +<p>The morning found me there. It was not till later that the man sent to +bury the dog came to me with the cry, "Something is wrong with the +pavilion! When I went in to close the window I found the ceiling at that +end of the room strangely dabbled. It looks like blood. And the spots +grew as I looked."</p> + +<p>Aghast, bruised in spirit and broken of heart, I went down, after that +sweet body was laid in its grave, to look. The stains he had spoken of +were gone. But I lived to see them reappear,—as you have.</p> + +<p>God have mercy on our souls!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>BEHIND THE WALL</h3> + +<p>"A most pathetic and awesome history!" I exclaimed, after the pause +which instinctively followed the completion of this tale, read as few of +its kind have ever been read, by this woman of infinite resources in +feeling and expression.</p> + +<p>"Is it not? Do you wonder that a visit in the dead of night to a spot +associated with such superstitious horrors should frighten me?" she +added as she bundled up the scattered sheets with a reckless hand.</p> + +<p>"I do not. I am not sure but that I am a little bit frightened myself," +I smiled, following with my eye a single sheet which had escaped to the +floor. "Allow me," I cried, stooping to lift it. As I did so I observed +that it was the first sheet, the torn one—and that a line or so of +writing was visible at the top which I was sure had not been amongst +those she had read.</p> + +<p>"What words are those?" I asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know, they are half gone as you can see. They have nothing to +do with the story. I read you the whole of that."</p> + +<p>Mistress as she was of her moods and expression I detected traces of +some slight confusion.</p> + +<p>"The putting up of the partition is not explained," I remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was put up in horror of the stains which from time to time +broke out on the ceiling at that end of the room."</p> + +<p>I wished to ask her if this was her conclusion or if that line or two I +have mentioned was more intelligible than she had acknowledged it to be. +But I refrained from a sense of propriety.</p> + +<p>If she appreciated my forbearance she did not show it. Rising, she +thrust the papers into a cupboard, casting a scarcely perceptible glance +at the clock as she did so.</p> + +<p>I took the hint and rose. Instantly she was all smiles.</p> + +<p>"You have forgotten something, Mr. Trevitt. Surely you do not intend to +carry away with you my key to the bungalow."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of it," I returned lightly. "I am not quite through with +that key." Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> before she could recover from her surprise, I added +with such suavity as I had been able to acquire in my intercourse with +my more cultivated clients:</p> + +<p>"I have to thank you, Mrs. Carew, for an hour of thrilling interest. +Absorbed though I am in the present mystery, my mind has room for the +old one. Possibly because there is sometimes a marked connection between +old family events and new. There may be some such connection in this +case. I should like the opportunity of assuring myself there is not."</p> + +<p>She said nothing; I thought I understood why. More suavely yet, I +continued, with a slight, a very slight movement toward the door: +"Rarely have I had the pleasure of listening to such a tale read by such +an interpreter. It will always remain in my memory, Mrs. Carew. But the +episode is over and I return to my present duty and the bungalow."</p> + +<p>"The bungalow! You are going back to the bungalow?"</p> + +<p>"Immediately."</p> + +<p>"What for? Didn't you see all there was to see?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know what there can be left."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of consequence, most likely, but you can not wish me to have +any doubts on the subject."</p> + +<p>"No, no, of course not."</p> + +<p>The carelessness of her tone did not communicate itself to her manner. +Seeing that my unexpected proposition had roused her alarm, I grew wary +and remarked:</p> + +<p>"I was always overscrupulous."</p> + +<p>With a lift of her shoulders—a dainty gesture which I congratulated +myself I could see unmoved—she held out her hand in a mute appeal for +the key, but seeing that I was not to be shaken in my purpose, reached +for the wrap she had tossed on a chair and tied it again over her head.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Accompany you," she declared.</p> + +<p>"Again? I thought the place frightened you."</p> + +<p>"It does," she replied. "I had rather visit any other spot in the whole +world; but if it is your intention to go back there, it is mine to go +with you."</p> + +<p>"You are very good," I replied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>But I was seriously disconcerted notwithstanding. I had reckoned upon a +quiet hour in the bungalow by myself; moreover, I did not understand her +motive for never trusting me there alone. Yet as this very distrust was +suggestive, I put a good face on the matter and welcomed her company +with becoming alacrity. After all, I might gain more than I could +possibly lose by having her under my eye for a little longer. Strong as +was her self-control there were moments when the real woman showed +herself, and these moments were productive.</p> + +<p>As we were passing out she paused to extinguish a lamp which was +slightly smoking,—I also thought she paused an instant to listen. At +all events her ears were turned toward the stairs down which there came +the murmur of two voices, one of them the little boy's.</p> + +<p>"It is time Harry was asleep," she cried. "I promised to sing to him. +You won't be long, will you?"</p> + +<p>"You need not be very long," was my significant retort. "I can not speak +for myself."</p> + +<p>Was I playing with her curiosity or anxieties or whatever it was that +affected her? I hardly knew; I spoke as impulse directed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> waited in +cold blood—or was it hot blood?—to see how she took it.</p> + +<p>Carelessly enough, for she was a famous actress except when taken by +surprise. Checking an evident desire of calling out some direction up +stairs, she followed me to the door, remarking cheerfully, "You can not +be very long either; the place is not large enough."</p> + +<p>My excuse—or rather the one I made to myself for thus returning to a +place I had seemingly exhausted, was this. In the quick turn I had made +in leaving on the former occasion, my foot had struck the edge of the +large rug nailed over the center of the floor, and unaccountably +loosened it. To rectify this mishap, and also to see how so slight a +shock could have lifted the large brass nails by which it had been held +down to the floor, seemed reason enough for my action. But how to draw +her attention to so insignificant a fact without incurring her ridicule +I could not decide in our brief passage back to the bungalow, and +consequently was greatly relieved when, upon opening the door and +turning my lantern on the scene, I discovered that in our absence the +rug had torn itself still farther free from the floor and now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> lay with +one of its corners well curled over—the corner farthest from the door +and nearest the divan where little Gwendolen had been lying when she was +lifted and carried away—where?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew saw it too and cast me a startled look which I met with a +smile possibly as ambiguous as the feeling which prompted it.</p> + +<p>"Who has been here?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Did we do that?"</p> + +<p>"I did; or rather my foot struck the edge of the rug as I turned to go +out with you. Shall I replace it and press back the nails?"</p> + +<p>"If you will be so good."</p> + +<p>Do what she would there was eagerness in her tone. Remarking this, I +decided to give another and closer look at the floor and the nails. I +found the latter had not been properly inserted; or rather that there +were two indentations for every nail, a deep one and one quite shallow. +This caused me to make some examination of the others, those which had +not been drawn from the floor, and I found that one or two of them were +equally insecure, but not all; only those about this one corner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew, who had paused, confused and faltering in the doorway, in +her dismay at seeing me engaged in this inspection instead of in +replacing the rug as I had proposed, now advanced a step, so that our +glances met as I looked up with the remark:</p> + +<p>"This rug seems to have been lately raised at this corner. Do you know +if the police had it up?"</p> + +<p>"I don't. I believe so—oh, Mr. Trevitt," she cried, as I rose to my +feet with the corner of the rug in my hand, "what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>She had run forward impetuously and was now standing close beside +me—inconveniently close.</p> + +<p>"I am going to raise this rug," I informed her. "That is, just at this +corner. Pardon me, I shall have to ask you to move."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, of course," she stammered. "Oh, what is going to happen +now?" Then as she watched me: "There is—there <i>is</i> something under it. +A door in the floor—a—a—Mrs. Ocumpaugh never told me of this."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose she knew it?" I inquired, looking up into her face, +which was very near<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> but not near enough to be in the full light of the +lantern, which was pointed another way.</p> + +<p>"This rug appears to have been almost soldered to the floor, everywhere +but here. There! it is thrown back. Now, if you will be so very good as +to hold the lantern, I will try and lift up the door."</p> + +<p>"I can not. See, how my hands shake! What are we about to discover? +Nothing, I pray, nothing. Suspense would be better than that."</p> + +<p>"I think you will be able to hold it," I urged, pressing the lantern +upon her.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I have never been devoid of courage. But—but—don't ask me to +descend with you," she prayed, as she lifted the lantern and turned it +dexterously enough on that portion of the door where a ring lay outlined +in the depths of its outermost plank.</p> + +<p>"I will not; but you will come just the same; you can not help it," I +hazarded, as with the point of my knife-blade I lifted the small round +of wood which filled into the ring and thus made the floor level.</p> + +<p>"Now, if this door is not locked, we will have it up," I cried, pulling +at the ring with a will.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> The door was not locked and it came up readily +enough, discovering some half-dozen steps, down which I immediately +proceeded to climb.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can not stay here alone," she protested, and prepared to follow +me in haste just as I expected her to do the moment she saw the light +withdrawn.</p> + +<p>"Step carefully," I enjoined. "If you will honor me with your hand—" +But she was at my side before the words were well out.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What kind of place do you make it out to be; and is there +anything here you—do—not—want—to see?"</p> + +<p>I flashed the light around and incidentally on her. She was not +trembling now. Her cheeks were red, her eyes blazing. She was looking at +me, and not at the darksome place about her. But as this was natural, it +being a woman's way to look for what she desires to learn in the face of +the man who for the moment is her protector, I shifted the light into +the nooks and corners of the low, damp cellar in which we now found +ourselves.</p> + +<p>"Bins for wine and beer," I observed, "but nothing in them." Then as I +measured the space before me with my eye, "It runs under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> the whole +house. See, it is much larger than the room above."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she mechanically repeated.</p> + +<p>I lowered the lantern to the floor but quickly raised it again.</p> + +<p>"What is that on the other side?" I queried. "I am sure there is a break +in the wall over in that corner."</p> + +<p>"I can not see," she gasped; certainly she was very much frightened. +"Are you going to cross the floor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and if you do not wish to follow me, sit down on these steps—"</p> + +<p>"No, I will go where you go; but this is very fearful. Why, what is the +matter?"</p> + +<p>I had stepped aside in order to avoid a trail of footprints I saw +extending across the cellar floor.</p> + +<p>"Come around this way," I urged. "If you will follow me I will keep you +from being too much frightened."</p> + +<p>She did as I told her. Softly her steps fell in behind mine, and thus +with wary tread and peering eyes we made our way to the remote end, +where we found—or rather where I found—that the break which I had +noticed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> in the uniformity of the wall was occasioned by a pile of old +boxes, arranged so as to make steps up to a hole cut through the floor +above.</p> + +<p>With a sharp movement I wheeled upon her.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that?" I asked, pointing back over my shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Steps," she cried, "going up into that part of the building +where—where—"</p> + +<p>"Will you attempt them with me? Or will you stay here, in the darkness?"</p> + +<p>"I—will—stay—here."</p> + +<p>It was said with shortened breath; but she seemed less frightened than +when we started to cross the cellar. At all events a fine look of daring +had displaced the tremulous aspect which had so changed the character of +her countenance a few minutes before.</p> + +<p>"I will make short work of it," I assured her as I hastily ran up the +steps. "Drop your face into your hands and you will not be conscious of +the darkness. Besides, I will talk to you all the time. There! I have +worked my way up through the hole. I have placed my lantern on the floor +above and I see— What! are you coming?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am coming."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>Indeed, she was close beside me, maintaining her footing on the toppling +boxes by a grip on my disengaged arm.</p> + +<p>"Can you see?" I asked. "Wait! let me pull you up; we might as well +stand on the floor as on these boxes."</p> + +<p>Climbing into the room above, I offered her my hand, and in another +moment we stood together in the noisome precincts of that abominable +spot, with whose doleful story she had just made me acquainted.</p> + +<p>A square of impenetrable gloom confronted me at the first glance—what +might not be the result of a second?</p> + +<p>I turned to consult the appearance of the lady beside me before I took +this second look. Had she the strength to stand the ordeal? Was she as +much moved—or possibly more moved than myself? As a woman, and the +intimate friend of the Ocumpaughs, she should be. But I could not +perceive that she was. For some reason, once in view of this mysterious +place, she was strangely, inexplicably, impassibly calm.</p> + +<p>"You can bear it?" I queried.</p> + +<p>"I must—only end it quickly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will," I replied, and I held out my lantern.</p> + +<p>I am not a superstitious man, but instinctively I looked up before I +looked about me. I have no doubt that Mrs. Carew did the same. But no +stains were to be seen on those blackened boards now; or rather, they +were dark with one continuous stain; and next moment I was examining +with eager scrutiny the place itself.</p> + +<p>Accustomed to the appearance of the cheerful and well-furnished room on +the other side of the partition, it was a shock to me (I will not say +what it was to her) to meet the bare decaying walls and mouldering +appurtenances of this dismal hole. True, we had just come from a +description of the place in all the neglect of its many years of +desolation, yet the smart finish of the open portion we had just left +poorly prepared us for what we here encountered.</p> + +<p>But the first impression over—an impression which was to recur to me +many a night afterward in dreams—I remembered the nearer and more +imperative cause which had drawn us thither, and turning the light into +each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> and every corner, looked eagerly for what I so much dreaded to +find.</p> + +<p>A couch to which some old cushions still clung stood against the farther +wall. Thank God! it was empty; so were all the corners of the room. +Nothing living and—nothing dead!</p> + +<p>Turning quickly upon Mrs. Carew, I made haste to assure her that our +fears were quite unfounded.</p> + +<p>But she was not even looking my way. Her eyes were on the ground, and +she seemed merely waiting—in some impatience, evidently, but yet merely +waiting—for me to finish and be gone.</p> + +<p>This was certainly odd, for the place was calculated in itself to rouse +curiosity, especially in one who knew its story. A table, thick with +dust and blurred with dampness, still gave tokens of a bygone +festivity—among which a bottle and some glasses stood conspicuous. +Cards were there too, dingy and green with mould—some on the +table—some on the floor; while the open lid of a small desk pushed up +close to a book-case full of books, still held a rusty pen and the +remnants of what looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> like the mouldering sheets of unused paper. As +for the rest—desolation, neglect, horror—but no <i>child</i>.</p> + +<p>The relief was enormous.</p> + +<p>"It is a dreadful place," I exclaimed; "but it might have been worse. Do +you want to see things nearer? Shall we cross the floor?"</p> + +<p>"No, no. We have not found Gwendolen; let us go. Oh, let us go!"</p> + +<p>A thrill of feeling had crept into her voice. Who could wonder? Yet I +was not ready to humor her very natural sensibilities by leaving quite +so abruptly. The floor interested me; the cushions of that old couch +interested me; the sawn boards surrounding the hole—indeed, many +things.</p> + +<p>"We will go in a moment," I assured her; "but, first, cast your eyes +along the floor. Don't you see that some one has preceded us here; and +that not so very long ago? Some one with dainty feet and a skirt that +fell on the ground; in short, a woman and—a lady!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see," she faltered, very much frightened; then quickly: "Show +me, show me."</p> + +<p>I pointed out the marks in the heavy dust<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> of the long neglected floor; +they were unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she cried, "what it is to be a detective! But who could have been +here? Who would want to be here? I think it is horrible myself, and if I +were alone I should faint from terror and the close air."</p> + +<p>"We will not remain much longer," I assured her, going straight to the +couch. "I do not like it either, but—"</p> + +<p>"What have you found now?"</p> + +<p>Her voice seemed to come from a great distance behind me. Was this on +account of the state of her nerves or mine? I am willing to think the +latter, for at that moment my eye took in two unexpected details. A dent +as of a child's head in one of the mangy sofa-pillows and a crushed bit +of colored sugar which must once have been a bit of choice +confectionery.</p> + +<p>"Some one besides a lady has been here," I decided, pointing to the one +and bringing back the other. "See! this bit of candy is quite fresh. You +must acknowledge that. <i>This</i> was not walled up years ago with the rest +of the things we see about us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>"</p> + +<p>Her eyes stared at the sugary morsel I held out toward her in my open +palm. Then she made a sudden rush which took her to the side of the +couch.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ill_007.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt=""GWENDOLEN HERE?" SHE MOANED. "GWENDOLEN HERE?"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"GWENDOLEN HERE?" SHE MOANED. "GWENDOLEN HERE?"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Gwendolen here?" she moaned. "Gwendolen here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I began; "do not—"</p> + +<p>But she had already left the spot and was backing toward the opening up +which we had come. As she met my eye she made a quick turn and plunged +below.</p> + +<p>"I must have air," she gasped.</p> + +<p>With a glance at the floor over which she had so rapidly passed, I +hastily followed her, smiling grimly to myself. Intentionally or +unintentionally, she had by this quick passage to and fro effectually +confused, if not entirely obliterated, those evidences of a former +intrusion which, with misguided judgment, I had just pointed out to her. +But recalling the still more perfect line of footprints left below to +which I had not called her attention, I felt that I could afford to +ignore the present mishap.</p> + +<p>As I reached the cellar bottom I called to her, for she was already +half-way across.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you notice where the boards had been sawed?" I asked. "The sawdust +is still on the floor, and it smells as fresh as if the saw had been at +work there yesterday."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, no doubt," she answered back over her shoulder, still +hurrying on so that I had to run lest she should attempt the steps in +utter darkness.</p> + +<p>When I reached the floor of the bungalow she was in the open door +panting. Watching her with one eye, I drew back the trap into place and +replaced the rug and the three nails I had loosened. Then I shut the +slide of the lantern and joined her where she stood.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel better?" I asked. "It was a dismal quarter of an hour. But +it was not a lost one."</p> + +<p>She drew the door to and locked it before she answered; then it was with +a question.</p> + +<p>"What do you make of all this, Mr. Trevitt?"</p> + +<p>I replied as directly as the circumstances demanded.</p> + +<p>"Madam, it is a startling answer to the question you put me before we +first left your house. You asked then if the child in the wagon was +Gwendolen. How could it have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> been she with this evidence before us of +her having been concealed here at the very time that wagon was being +driven away from—"</p> + +<p>"I do not think you have reason enough—" she began and stopped, and did +not speak again till we halted at the foot of her own porch. Then with +the frank accent most in keeping with her general manner, however much I +might distrust both accent and manner, she added as if no interval had +intervened: "If those signs you noted are proofs to you that Gwendolen +was shut up in that walled-off portion of the bungalow while some were +seeking her in the water and others in the wagon, <i>then where is she +now</i>?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>"WE SHALL HAVE TO BEGIN AGAIN"</h3> + +<p>It was a leading question which I was not surprised to see accompanied +by a very sharp look from beneath the cloudy wrap she had wound about +her head.</p> + +<p>"You suspect some one or something," continued Mrs. Carew, with a return +of the indefinable manner which had characterized her in the beginning +of our interview. "Whom? What?"</p> + +<p>I should have liked to answer her candidly, and in the spirit, if not +the words, of the prophet of old, but her womanliness disarmed me. With +her eyes on me I could get no further than a polite acknowledgment of +defeat.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carew, I am all at sea. We shall have to begin again."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered like an echo—was it sadly or gladly?—"you will +have to begin again." Then with a regretful accent: "And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> I can not help +you, for I am going to sail to-morrow. I positively must go. Cablegrams +from the other side hurry me. I shall have to leave Mrs. Ocumpaugh in +the midst of her distress."</p> + +<p>"What time does your steamer sail, Mrs. Carew?"</p> + +<p>"At five o'clock in the afternoon, from the Cunard docks."</p> + +<p>"Nearly sixteen hours from now. Perhaps fate—or my efforts—will favor +us before then with some solution of this disheartening problem. Let us +hope so."</p> + +<p>A quick shudder to hide which she was reaching out her hand, when the +door behind us opened and a colored girl looked out. Instantly and with +the slightest possible loss of self-possession Mrs. Carew turned to +motion the intruder back, when the girl suddenly blurted out:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Carew, Harry is so restless. He is sleepy, he says."</p> + +<p>"I will be up instantly. Tell him that I will be up instantly." Then as +the girl disappeared, she added, with a quick smile: "You see I haven't +any toys for him. Not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> being a mother I forgot to put them in his +trunk."</p> + +<p>As though in response to these words the maid again showed herself in +the doorway. "Oh, Mrs. Carew," she eagerly exclaimed, "there's a little +toy in the hall here, brought over by one of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's maids. The +girl said that hearing that the little boy fretted, Mrs. Ocumpaugh had +picked out one of her little girl's playthings and sent it over with her +love. It's a little horse, ma'am, with curly mane and a long tail. I am +sure 'twill just please Master Harry."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew turned upon me a look brimming with feeling.</p> + +<p>"What thoughtfulness! What self-control!" she cried. "Take up the horse, +Dinah. It was one of Gwendolen's favorite playthings," she explained to +me as the girl vanished.</p> + +<p>I did not answer. I was hearing again in my mind that desolate cry of +"Philo! Philo! Philo!" which an hour or so before had rung down to me +from Mrs. Ocumpaugh's open window. There had been a wildness in the +tone, which spoke of a tossing head on a feverish pillow. Certainly an +irreconcilable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> picture with the one just suggested by Mrs. Carew of the +considerate friend sending out the toys of her lost one to a neighbor's +peevish child.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew appeared to notice the pre-occupation with which I lingered +on the lower step.</p> + +<p>"You like children," she hazarded. "Or have you interested yourself in +this matter purely from business reasons?"</p> + +<p>"Business reasons were sufficient," was my guarded reply. "But I like +children very much. I should be most happy if I could see this little +Harry of yours nearer. I have only seen him from a distance, you know."</p> + +<p>She drew back a step; then she met my look squarely in the moonlight. +Her face was flushed, but I attempted no apology for a presumption which +could have but one excuse. I meant that she should understand me if I +did not her.</p> + +<p>"You <i>must</i> love children," she remarked, but not with her usual +correctness of tone. Then before I could attempt an answer to the +implied sarcasm a proud light came into her eyes, and with a gracious +bend of her fine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> figure she met my look with one equally as frank, and +cheerfully declared:</p> + +<p>"You shall. Come early in the morning."</p> + +<p>In another moment she had vanished inside and closed the door. I was +defeated for the nonce, or else she was all she appeared to be and I a +dreaming fool.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>ESPIONAGE</h3> + +<p>As I moved slowly away into the night the question thus raised in my own +mind assumed greater and more vital consequence. Was she a true woman or +what my fears pictured her—the scheming, unprincipled abductor of +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh? She looked true, sometimes acted so; but I had +heard and seen what would rouse any man's suspicions, and though I was +not in a position to say: "Mrs. Carew, this was not your first visit to +that scene of old tragedy. You have been there before, and with +Gwendolen in your arms," I was morally certain that this was so; that +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's most trusted friend was responsible for the +disappearance of her child, and I was not quite sure that the child was +not now under her very roof.</p> + +<p>It was very late by this time, but I meant, if possible, to settle some +of these doubts before I left the neighborhood of the cottage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>How? By getting a glimpse of Mrs. Carew with her mask off; in the +company of the child, if I could compass it; if not, then entirely alone +with her own thoughts, plans and subtleties.</p> + +<p>It was an act more in line with my partner's talents than my own, but I +could not afford to let this deter me. I had had my chance with her, +face to face. For hours I had been in her company. I had seen her in +various stages of emotion, sometimes real and sometimes assumed, but at +no moment had I been sure of her, possibly because at no moment had she +been sure of me. In our first visit to the bungalow; in her own little +library, during the reading of that engrossing tale by which she had so +evidently attempted to lull my suspicions awakened by her one +irrepressible show of alarm on the scene of Gwendolen's disappearance, +and afterward when she saw that they might be so lulled but not +dispelled; in the cellar; and, above all, in that walled-off room where +we had come across the signs of Gwendolen's presence, which even she +could not disavow, she had felt my eyes upon her and made me conscious +that she had so felt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> them. Now she must believe them removed, and if I +could but gain the glimpse I speak of I should see this woman as she +was.</p> + +<p>I thought I could manage this.</p> + +<p>I had listened to the maid's steps as she returned up stairs, and I +believed I knew in what direction they had tended after she reached the +floor above. I would just see if one of the windows on the south side +was lighted, and, if so, if it was in any way accessible.</p> + +<p>To make my way through the shrubbery without rousing the attention of +any one inside or out required a circumspection that tried me greatly. +But by dint of strong self-control I succeeded in getting to the +vantage-place I sought, without attracting attention or causing a single +window to fly up. This reassured me, and perceiving a square of light in +the dark mass of wall before me I peered about among the trees +overlooking this part of the building for one I could climb without too +much difficulty.</p> + +<p>The one which looked most feasible was a maple with +low-growing-branches, and throwing off my coat I was soon half-way to +its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> top and on a level, or nearly so, with the window on which I had +fixed my eye.</p> + +<p>There were no curtains to this window—the house being half dismantled +in anticipation of Mrs. Carew's departure—but it was still protected by +a shade, and this was drawn down, nearly to the ledge.</p> + +<p>But not quite. A narrow space intervened which, to an eye placed where +mine was, offered a peep-hole of more or less satisfactory proportions, +and this space, I soon saw, widened perceptibly from time to time as the +wind caught at the shade and blew it in.</p> + +<p>With utmost caution I shifted my position till I could bring my eye +fairly in line with the interior of this room, and finding that the +glimpse given revealed little but a blue wall and some snowy linen, I +waited for the breeze to blow that I might see more.</p> + +<p>It came speedily, and in a gust which lifted the shade and thus +disclosed the whole inside of the room. It was an instantaneous glimpse, +but in that moment the picture projected upon my eye satisfied me that, +despite my doubts, despite my causes for suspicion, I had been doing +this woman the greatest injustice in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> supposing that her relations to +the child she had brought into her home were other than she had made +out.</p> + +<p>She had come up as she had promised, and had seated herself on the bed +with her face turned toward the window. I could thus catch its whole +expression—an expression this time involuntary and natural as the +feelings which prompted it. The child, with his newly-obtained toy +clutched in one hand, knelt on the coverlet with his head pressed +against her breast, saying his prayers. I could hear his soft murmur, +though I could not catch the words.</p> + +<p>But sweet as was the sight of his little white-clad form burying its +head, with its mass of dusky curls, against the breast in which he most +confided, it was not this alone which gave to the moment its almost +sacred character. It was the rapturous look with which Mrs. Carew gazed +down on this little head—the mother-look, which admits of nothing +false, and which when once seen on a woman's face, whether she be mother +in fact or mother only in heart—idealizes her in the mind for ever.</p> + +<p>Eloquent with love and holy devotion the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> scene flashed upon my eyes for +a moment and was gone. But that moment made its impression, and settled +for good and all the question with which I had started upon this +adventure. She <i>was</i> the true woman and I was the dreaming fool.</p> + +<p>As I realized this I also realized that three days out of the seven were +gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>A PHANTASM</h3> + +<p>I certainly had every right to conclude that this would end my +adventures for the day. But I soon found that I was destined to have yet +another experience before returning to my home in New York.</p> + +<p>The weather had changed during the last hour and at the moment I emerged +from the shadows of the hedge-row into the open space fronting the +Ocumpaugh dock, a gleam of lightning shot across the west and by it I +saw what looked like the dusky figure of a man leaning against a pile at +the extreme end of the boat-house. Something in the immobility +maintained by this figure in face of the quick flashes which from time +to time lit up the scene, reminded me of the presence I had come upon +hours before in front of Mrs. Carew's house; and moved by the instinct +of my calling, I took advantage of the few minutes yet remaining before +train time, to make my way in its direction, cautiously, of course, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +with due allowance for the possible illumination following those fitful +bursts of light which brought everything to view in one moment, only to +plunge it all back into the profoundest obscurity the next.</p> + +<p>I had two motives for my proceeding. One, as I say, sprang from the +natural instinct of investigation; the other was kindlier and less +personal.</p> + +<p>I did not understand the meaning of the posture which this person had +now assumed; nor did I like it. Why should this man—why should any man +stand like this at the dead of night staring into waters, which, if they +had their tale to tell, had not yet told it—unless his interest in the +story he read there was linked with emotions such as it was my business +to know? For those most openly concerned in Gwendolen's loss, the search +had ceased; why, then, this lone and lingering watch on the part of one +who might, for all I knew, be some over-zealous detective, but who I was +rather inclined to believe was a person much more closely concerned in +the child's fate, viz: the next heir-in-law, Mr. Rathbone. If it were +he, his presence there savored of mystery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> or it savored of the tragic. +The latter seemed the more likely hypothesis, judging from the +expression of his face, as seen by me under the lantern. It behooved me +then to approach him, but to approach him in the shadow of the +boat-house.</p> + +<p>What passed in the next few minutes seemed to me unreal and dreamlike. I +was tired, I suppose, and so more than usually susceptible. Night had no +unfamiliar effects for me, even night on the borders of this great +river; nor was my occupation a new one, or the expectation I felt, as +fearful and absorbing as that with which an hour or two before I had +raised my lantern in that room in which the doleful mystery of half a +century back, trenched upon the still more moving mystery of to-day. +Yet, that experience had the sharpness of fact; while this had only the +vagueness of a phantasm.</p> + +<p>I was very near him but the lightning had ceased to flash, and I found +it impossible to discern whether or not the form I had come there to +identify, yet lingered in its old position against the pile.</p> + +<p>I therefore awaited the next gleam with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> great anxiety, an anxiety only +partly alleviated by the certainty I felt of hearing the faint, scarcely +recognizable sound of his breathing. Had the storm passed over? Would no +more flashes come? Ah, he is moving—that is a sigh I hear—no +detective's exclamation of impatience, but a sufferer's sigh of +depression or remorse. What was in the man's mind?</p> + +<p>A steamboat or some equally brilliantly illuminated craft was passing, +far out in the channel; the shimmer of its lights gave sudden cheer to +the distant prospect; the churning of its paddles suggested life and +action and irresistibly drew my eyes that way. Would his follow? Would I +find his attitude changed?</p> + +<p>Ah! the long delayed flash has come and gone. He is standing there yet, +but no longer in an attitude of contemplation. On the contrary, he is +bending over the waters searching with eager aspect, where so many had +searched before him, and, in the instant, as his face and form leaped +into sight, I beheld his clenched right hand fall on his breast and +heard on his lips the one word—</p> + +<p>"Guilty!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>"AN ALL-CONQUERING BEAUTY"</h3> + +<p>I was one of the first to procure and read a New York paper next +morning. Would I discover in the columns any hint of the preceding day's +events in Yonkers, which, if known, must for ever upset the wagon +theory? No, that secret was still my secret, only shared by the doctor, +who, so far as I understood him, had no intention of breaking his +self-imposed silence till his fears of some disaster to the little one +had received confirmation. I had therefore several hours before me yet +for free work.</p> + +<p>The first thing I did was to hunt up Miss Graham.</p> + +<p>She met me with eagerness; an eagerness I found it difficult to dispel +with my disappointing news in regard to Doctor Pool.</p> + +<p>"He is not the man," said I. "Can you think of any other?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head, her large gray eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> showing astonishment and what I +felt bound to regard as an honest bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"I wish to mention a name," said I.</p> + +<p>"One I know?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I know of no other person capable of wronging that child."</p> + +<p>"You are probably right. But there is a gentleman—one interested in the +family—a man with something to gain—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rathbone? You must not mention him in any such connection. He is +one of the best men I know—kind, good, and oh, so sensitive! A dozen +fortunes wouldn't tempt a man of his stamp to do any one living a wrong, +let alone a little innocent child."</p> + +<p>"I know; but there are other temptations greater than money to some men; +infinitely greater to one as sensitive as you say he is. What if he +loved a woman! What if his only hope of winning her—"</p> + +<p>"You must not think that of him," she again interposed. "Nothing could +make a villain of <i>him</i>. I have seen him too many times in circumstances +which show a man's character. He is good through and through, and in all +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> concerns Gwendolen, honorable to the core. I once saw him save her +life at the risk of his own."</p> + +<p>"You did? When? Years ago?"</p> + +<p>"No, lately; within the last year."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the circumstances."</p> + +<p>She did. They were convincing. As I listened, the phantasm of the night +before assumed fainter and fainter proportions. When she had finished I +warmly remarked that I was glad to hear the story of so heroic an act.</p> + +<p>And I was. Not that I ascribed too deep a significance to the word which +had escaped Mr. Rathbone on the dock, but because I was glad to have my +instinctive confidence in the man verified by facts.</p> + +<p>It seemed to clear the way before me.</p> + +<p>"Ellie," said I (it seemed both natural and proper to call her by that +name now), "what explanation would you give if, under any circumstances +(all circumstances are possible, you know), you heard this gentleman +speak of feeling guilty in connection with Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>"I should have to know the circumstances," was her quiet answer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me imagine some. Say that it was night, late night, at an hour when +the most hardened amongst us are in a peculiarly responsive condition; +say that he had been spending hours near the house of the woman he had +long loved but had quite despaired of winning in his greatly hampered +condition, and with the fever of this longing upon him, but restrained +by emotions the nature of which we can not surmise, had now found his +way down to the river—to the spot where boats have clustered and men +crouched in the gruesome and unavailing search we know of; say that he +hung there long over the water, gazing down in silence, in solitude, +alone, as he thought, with his own conscience and the suggestions +offered by that running stream where some still think, despite facts, +despite all the probabilities, that Gwendolen has found rest, and when +his heart was full, should be seen to strike his breast and utter, with +a quick turn of his face up the hill, this one word, 'Guilty'?"</p> + +<p>"What would I think? This: That being overwrought by the struggle you +mention (a struggle we can possibly understand when we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> consider the +unavoidable consciousness which must be his of the great change which +would be effected in all his prospects if Gwendolen should not be +found), he gave the name of guilt to feelings which some would call +simply human."</p> + +<p>"Ellie, you are an oracle." This thought of hers had been my thought +ever since I had had time really to reflect upon the matter. "I wonder +if you will have an equally wise reply to give to my next question?"</p> + +<p>"I can not say. I speak from intuition; I am not really wise."</p> + +<p>"Intuition is above wisdom. Does your intuition tell you that Mrs. Carew +is the true friend she professes to be to Mrs. Ocumpaugh?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is a different thing!"</p> + +<p>The clear brow I loved—there! how words escape a man!—lost its +smoothness and her eyes took on a troubled aspect, while her words came +slowly.</p> + +<p>"I do not know how to answer that offhand. Sometimes I have felt that +her very soul was knit to that of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and again I have had +my doubts. But never deep ones;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> never any such as would make it easy +for me to answer the question you have just put me."</p> + +<p>"Was her love for Gwendolen sincere?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; oh, yes. That is, I always thought so, and with no +qualification, till something in her conduct when she first heard of +Gwendolen's disappearance—I can not describe it—gave me a sense of +disappointment. She was shocked, of course, and she was grieved, but not +hopelessly so. There was something lacking in her manner—we all felt +it; Mrs. Ocumpaugh felt it, and let her dear friend go the moment she +showed the slightest inclination to do so."</p> + +<p>"There were excuses for Mrs. Carew, just at that time," said I. "You +forget the new interest which had come into her life. It was natural +that she should be preoccupied."</p> + +<p>"With thoughts of her little nephew?" replied Miss Graham. "True, true; +but she had been so fond of Gwendolen! You would have thought— But why +all this talk about Mrs. Carew? You don't believe—you surely can not +believe—"</p> + +<p>"That Mrs. Carew is a charming woman?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> Oh, yes, but I do. Mr. Rathbone +shows good taste."</p> + +<p>"Ah, is she the one?"</p> + +<p>"Did you not know it?"</p> + +<p>"No; yet I have seen them together many times. Now I understand much +that has always been a mystery to me. He never pressed his suit; he +loved, but never harassed her. Oh, he is a good man!" This with +emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Is she a good woman?"</p> + +<p>Miss Graham's eyes suddenly fell, then rose again until they met mine +fully and frankly.</p> + +<p>"I have no reason," said she, "to believe her otherwise. I have never +seen anything in her to hinder my esteem; only—"</p> + +<p>"Finish that 'only.'"</p> + +<p>"She does not appeal to me as many less gifted women do. Perhaps I am +secretly jealous of the extreme fondness Gwendolen has always shown for +her. If so, the fault is in me, not in her."</p> + +<p>What I said in reply is not germane to this story.</p> + +<p>After being assured by a few more discreet inquiries in some other +perfectly safe quarters that Miss Graham's opinion of Mr. Rathbone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> was +shared by those who best knew him, I returned to the one spot most +likely to afford me a clue to, if no explanation of, this elusive +mystery.</p> + +<p>What did I propose to myself? First, to revisit Mrs. Carew and make the +acquaintance of the boy Harry. I no longer doubted his being just what +she called him, but she had asked me to call for this purpose and I had +no excuse for declining the invitation, even if I had desired to do so. +Afterward—but first let us finish with Mrs. Carew.</p> + +<p>As she entered her reception-room that morning she looked so +bright—that is, with the instinctive brightness of a naturally +vivacious temperament—that I wondered if I had been mistaken in my +thought that she had had no sleep all that night, simply because many of +the lights in her house had not been put out till morning. But an +inspection of her face revealed lines of care, which only her smile +could efface, and she was not quite ready for smiles, affable and +gracious as she showed herself.</p> + +<p>Her first words, just as I expected, were:</p> + +<p>"There is nothing in the papers about the child in the wagon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; everything does not get into the papers."</p> + +<p>"Will what we saw and what we found in the bungalow last night?"</p> + +<p>"I hardly think so. That is our own special clue, Mrs. Carew—if it is a +clue."</p> + +<p>"You seem to regard it as such."</p> + +<p>With a shrug I declared that we had come upon a mystery of some kind.</p> + +<p>"But the child is not dead? That you feel demonstrated—or don't you?"</p> + +<p>"As I said last night, I do not know what to think. Ah; is that the +little boy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she gaily responded, as the glad step of a child was heard +descending the stairs. "Harry! come here, Harry!" she cried, with that +joyous accent which a child's presence seems to call out in some women. +"Here is a gentleman who would like to shake hands with you."</p> + +<p>A sprite of a child entered; a perfect sunbeam irradiating the whole +room. If, under the confidence induced by the vision I had had of him on +his knees the night before, any suspicion remained in my mind of his +being Gwendolen Ocumpaugh in disguise, it vanished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> at sight of the +fearless head, lifted high in boyish freedom, and the gay swish, swish +of the whip in his nervous little hand.</p> + +<p>"Harry is playing horse," he cried, galloping toward me in what he +evidently considered true jockey style.</p> + +<p>I made a gesture and stopped him.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, little man? What did you say your name is?"</p> + +<p>"Harry," this very stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Harry what? Harry Carew?"</p> + +<p>"No, Harry; just Harry."</p> + +<p>"And how do you like it here?"</p> + +<p>"I like it; I like it better than my old home."</p> + +<p>"Where was your old home?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I didn't like it."</p> + +<p>"He was with uncongenial people, and he is very sensitive," put in Mrs. +Carew, softly.</p> + +<p>"I like it here," he repeated, "and I like the big ocean. I am going on +the ocean. And I like horses. Get up, Dandy!" and he cracked his whip +and was off again on his imaginary trot.</p> + +<p>I felt very foolish over the doubts I had so openly evinced. This was +not only a boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> to the marrow of his bones, but he was, as any eye could +see, the near relative she called him. In my embarrassment I rose; at +all events I soon found myself standing near the door with Mrs. Carew.</p> + +<p>"A fine fellow!" I enthusiastically exclaimed; "and startlingly like you +in expression. He is your nephew, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied, somewhat wistfully I thought.</p> + +<p>I felt that I should apologize for—well, perhaps for the change she +must have discerned in my manner.</p> + +<p>"The likeness caused me a shock. I was not prepared for it, I suppose."</p> + +<p>She looked at me quite wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"I have never heard any one speak of it before. I am glad that you see +it." And she seemed glad, very glad.</p> + +<p>But I know that for some reason she was gladder yet when I turned to +depart. However, she did not hasten me.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do next?" she inquired, as she courteously led +the way through the piles of heaped-up boxes and baskets, the number of +which had rather grown than diminished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> since my visit the evening +before. "Pardon my asking."</p> + +<p>"Resort to my last means," said I. "See and talk with Mrs. Ocumpaugh."</p> + +<p>An instant of hesitation on her part, so short, however, that I could +hardly detect it, then she declared:</p> + +<p>"But you can not do that."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"She is ill; I am sure that they will let no one approach her. One of +her maids was in this morning. She did not even ask me to come over."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said I, "but I shall make the effort. The illness which +affects Mrs. Ocumpaugh can be best cured by the restoration of her +child."</p> + +<p>"But you have not found Gwendolen?" she replied.</p> + +<p>"No; but I have discovered footprints on the dust of the bungalow floor, +and, as you know, a bit of candy which looks as if it had been crushed +in a sleeping child's hand, and I am in need of every aid possible in +order to make the most of these discoveries. They may point the way to +Gwendolen's present<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> whereabouts and they may not. But they shall be +given every chance."</p> + +<p>"Whoop! get up! get up!" broke in a childish voice from the upper +landing.</p> + +<p>"Am I not right?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Always; only I am sorry for Mrs. Ocumpaugh. May I tell you—" as I laid +my hand upon the outer door-knob—"just how to approach her?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you will be so good."</p> + +<p>"I would not ask for Miss Porter. Ask for Celia; she is Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +special maid. Let her carry your message—if you feel that it will do +any good to disturb her."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; the recommendation is valuable. Good morning, Mrs. Carew. I +may not see you again; may I wish you a safe journey?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; are we not almost friends?"</p> + +<p>Why did I not make my bow and go? There was nothing more to be said—at +least by me. Was I held by something in her manner? Doubtless, for while +I was thus reasoning with myself she followed me out on to the porch, +and with some remark as to the beauty of the morning, led me to an +opening in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> vines, whence a fine view could be caught of the river.</p> + +<p>But it was not for the view she had brought me there. This was evident +enough from her manner, and soon she paused in her observations on the +beauties of nature, and with a strange ringing emphasis for which I was +not altogether prepared, remarked with feeling:</p> + +<p>"I may be making a mistake—I was always an unconventional woman—but I +think you ought to know something of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's private history +before you see her. It is not a common one—at least it has its romantic +elements—and an acquaintance with some of its features is almost +necessary to you if you expect to approach her on so delicate a matter +with any hope of success. But perhaps you are better informed on this +subject than I supposed? Detectives are a mine of secret intelligence, I +am told; possibly you have already learned from some other source the +story of her marriage and homecoming to Homewood and the peculiar +circumstances of her early married life?"</p> + +<p>"No," I disclaimed in great relief, and I have no doubt with unnecessary +vivacity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> "On the contrary, I have never heard anything said in regard +to it."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to? Men have not the curiosity of women, and I do not +wish to bore you, but—I see that I shall not do that," she exclaimed. +"Sit down, Mr. Trevitt; I shall not detain you long; I have not much +time myself."</p> + +<p>As she sank into a chair in saying this, I had no alternative but to +follow her example. I took pains, however, to choose one which brought +me into the shadow of the vines, for I felt some embarrassment at this +new turn in the conversation, and was conscious that I should have more +or less difficulty in hiding my only too intense interest in all that +concerned the lady of whom we were speaking.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh was a western woman," Mrs. Carew began softly; "the +oldest of five daughters. There was not much money in the family, but +she had beauty, a commanding, all-conquering beauty; not the beauty you +see in her to-day, but that exquisite, persuasive loveliness which +seizes upon the imagination as well as moves the heart. I have a picture +of her at eighteen—but never mind that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>Was it affection for her friend which made Mrs. Carew's always rich +voice so very mellow? I wished I knew; but I was successful, I think, in +keeping that wish out of my face, and preserving my manner of the simply +polite listener.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ocumpaugh was on a hunting trip," she proceeded, after a slight +glance my way. "He had traveled the world over and seen beautiful women +everywhere; but there was something in Marion Allison which he had found +in no other, and at the end of their first interview he determined to +make her his wife. A man of impulses, but also a man of steady +resolution, Mr. Trevitt. Perhaps you know this?"</p> + +<p>I bowed. "A strong man," I remarked.</p> + +<p>"And a romantic one. He had this intention from the first, as I have +said, but he wished to make himself sure of her heart. He knew how his +advantages counted; how hard it is for a woman to disassociate the man +from his belongings, and having a spirit of some daring, he resolved +that this 'pearl of the west'—so I have heard him call her—should +marry the man and not his money."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was he as wealthy then as now?"</p> + +<p>"Almost. Possibly he was not quite such a power in the financial world, +but he had Homewood in almost as beautiful a condition as now, though +the new house was not put up till after his marriage. He courted +her—not as the landscape painter of Tennyson's poem—but as a rising +young business man who had made his way sufficiently to give her a good +home. This home he did not have to describe, since her own imagination +immediately pictured it as much below the one she lived in, as he was +years younger than her hard-worked father. Delighted with this naïveté, +he took pains not to disabuse her mind of the simple prospects with +which she was evidently so well satisfied, and succeeded in marrying her +and bringing her as far as our station below there, without her having +the least suspicion of the splendor she was destined for. And now, Mr. +Trevitt, picture, if you can, the scene of that first arrival. I have +heard it described by him and I have heard it described by her. He was +dressed plainly; so was she; and lest the surprise should come before +the proper moment, he had brought her on a train little patronized<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> by +his friends. The sumptuousness of the solitary equipage standing at the +depot platform must, in consequence, have struck her all the more +forcibly, and when he turned and asked her if she did not admire this +fine turn-out, you can imagine the lovely smile with which she +acknowledged its splendor and then turned away to look up and down for +the street-car she expected to take with him to their bridal home.</p> + +<p>"He says that he caught her back with the remark that he was glad she +liked it because it was hers and many more like it. But she insists that +he did not say a word, only smiled in a way to make her see for whom the +carriage door was being held open. Such was her entrance into wealth and +love and alas! into trouble. For the latter followed hard upon the two +first. Mr. Ocumpaugh's mother, who had held sway at Homewood for thirty +years or more, was hard as the nether millstone. She was a Rathbone and +had brought both wealth and aristocratic connections into the family. +She had no sympathy for penniless beauties (she was a very plain woman +herself) and made those first few years of her daughter-in-law's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> life +as nearly miserable as any woman's can be who adores her husband. I have +heard that it was a common experience for this sharp-tongued old lady to +taunt her with the fact that she brought nothing into the family but +herself—not even a <i>towel</i>; and when two years passed and no child +came, the biting criticisms became so frequent that a cloud fell over +the young wife's sensitive beauty, which no after happiness has ever +succeeded in fully dispelling. Matters went better after Gwendolen came, +but in reckoning up the possible defects in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's character +you should never forget the twist that may have been given to it by that +mother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of Madam Ocumpaugh," I remarked, rising, anxious to end an +interview whose purport was more or less enigmatic to me.</p> + +<p>"She is dead now—happily. A woman like that is accountable for much +more than she herself ever realizes. But one thing she never succeeded +in doing: she never shook Mr. Ocumpaugh's love for his wife or hers for +him. Whether it was the result of that early romantic episode of which I +have spoken, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> whether their natures are peculiarly congenial, the +bond between them has been one of exceptional strength and purity."</p> + +<p>"It will be their comfort now," I remarked.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew smiled, but in a dubious way that added to my perplexity and +made me question more seriously than ever just what her motive had been +in subjecting me to these very intimate reminiscences of one I was about +to approach on an errand of whose purport she could have only a general +idea.</p> + +<p>Had she read my inmost soul? Did she wish to save her friend, or save +herself, or even to save me from the result of a blind use of such tools +as were the only ones afforded me? Impossible to determine. She was at +this present moment, as she had always been, in fact, an unsolvable +problem to me, and it was not at this hurried time and with such serious +work before me that I could venture to make any attempt to understand +her.</p> + +<p>"You will let me know the outcome of your talk with Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" she +cried, as I moved to the front of the porch.</p> + +<p>It was for me to look dubious now. I could make no such promise as +that.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will let you know the instant there is any good news," I assured her.</p> + +<p>And with that I moved off, but not before hearing the peremptory command +with which she entered the house:</p> + +<p>"Now, Dinah, quick!"</p> + +<p>Evidently, her preparations for departure were to be pushed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>IN THE GREEN BOUDOIR</h3> + +<p>So far in this narrative I have kept from the reader nothing but an old +experience of which I was now to make use. This experience involved Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, and was the cause of the confidence which I had felt from the +first in my ability to carry this search through to a successful +termination. I believed that in some secret but as yet undiscovered way, +it offered a key to this tragedy. And I still believed this, little as I +had hitherto accomplished and blind as the way continued to look before +me.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, it was with anything but a cheerful heart that I advanced +that morning through the shrubbery toward the Ocumpaugh mansion.</p> + +<p>I dreaded the interview I had determined to seek. I was young, far too +young, to grapple with the difficulties it involved; yet I saw no way of +avoiding it, or of saving either Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> Ocumpaugh or myself from the +suffering it involved.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew had advised that I should first see the girl called Celia. +But Mrs. Carew knew nothing of the real situation. I did not wish to see +any girl. I felt that no such intermediary would answer in a case like +this. Nor did I choose to trust Miss Porter. Yet to Miss Porter alone +could I appeal.</p> + +<p>The sight of a doctor's gig standing at the side door gave me my first +shock. Mrs. Ocumpaugh was ill, then, really ill. Yet if I came to make +her better? I stood irresolute till I saw the doctor come out; then I +walked boldly up and asked for Miss Porter.</p> + +<p>Just what Mrs. Carew had advised me not to do.</p> + +<p>Miss Porter came. She recognized me, but only to express her sorrow that +Mrs. Ocumpaugh was totally unfit to see any one to-day.</p> + +<p>"Not if he brings news?"</p> + +<p>"News?"</p> + +<p>"I have news, but of a delicate nature. I should like the privilege of +imparting the same to Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself."</p> + +<p>"Impossible."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Excuse me, if I urge it."</p> + +<p>"She can not see you. The doctor who has just gone says that at all +hazards she must be kept quiet to-day. Won't Mr. Atwater do? Is it—is +it good news?"</p> + +<p>"That, Mrs. Ocumpaugh alone can say."</p> + +<p>"See Mr. Atwater; I will call him."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to say to <i>him</i>."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Let me advise you. Leave it to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Take this paper up to +her—it is only a sketch—and inform her that the person who drew it has +something of importance to say either to her or to Mr. Atwater, and let +her decide which it shall be. You may, if you wish, mention my name."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand."</p> + +<p>"You hold my credentials," I said and smiled.</p> + +<p>She glanced at the paper I had placed in her hand. It was a folded one, +fastened something like an envelope.</p> + +<p>"I can not conceive,—" she began.</p> + +<p>I did not scruple to interrupt her.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh has a right to the privilege of seeing what I have +sketched there,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> I said with what impressiveness I could, though my +heart was heavy with doubt. "Will you believe that what I ask is for the +best and take this envelope to her? It may mean the ultimate restoration +of her child."</p> + +<p>"This paper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Porter."</p> + +<p>She did not try to hide her incredulity.</p> + +<p>"I do not see how a picture—yet you seem very much in earnest—and I +know she has confidence in you, she and Mr. Ocumpaugh, too. I will take +it to her if you can assure me that good will come of it and no more +false hopes to destroy the little courage she has left."</p> + +<p>"I can not promise that. I believe that she will wish to receive me and +hear all I have to say after seeing what that envelope contains. That is +as far as I can honestly go."</p> + +<p>"It does not satisfy me. If it were not for the nearness of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's return, I would have nothing to do with it. He must hear at +Sandy Hook that some definite news has been received of his child."</p> + +<p>"You are right, Miss Porter, he must."</p> + +<p>"He idolized Gwendolen. He is a man of strong feelings; very passionate +and much given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> to follow the impulse of the moment. If his suspense is +not ended at the earliest possible instant, the results may be such as I +dare not contemplate."</p> + +<p>"I know it; that is why I have pushed matters to this point. You will +carry that up to her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and if—"</p> + +<p>"No ifs. Lay it before her where she sits and come away. But not beyond +call. You are a good woman—I see it in your face—do not watch her as +she unfolds this paper. Persons of her temperament do not like to have +their emotions observed, and this will cause her emotion. That can not +be helped, Miss Porter. Sincerely and honestly I tell you that it is +impossible for her best friends to keep her from suffering now; they can +only strive to keep that suffering from becoming permanent."</p> + +<p>"It is a hard task you have set me," complained the poor woman; "but I +will do what I can. Anything must be better for Mrs. Ocumpaugh than the +suspense she is now laboring under."</p> + +<p>"Remember," I enjoined, with the full force<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> of my secret anxiety, "that +no eye but hers must fall upon this drawing. Not that it would convey +meaning to anybody but herself, but because it is her affair and her +affair only, and you are the woman to respect another person's affairs."</p> + +<p>She gave me a final scrutinizing look and left the room.</p> + +<p>"God grant that I have made no mistake!" was the inward prayer with +which I saw her depart.</p> + +<p>My fervency was sincere. I was myself frightened at what I had done.</p> + +<p>And what had I done? Sent her a sketch drawn by myself of Doctor Pool +and of his office. If it recalled to her, as I felt it must, the +remembrance of a certain memorable visit she had once paid there, she +would receive me.</p> + +<p>When Miss Porter reëntered some fifteen minutes later, I saw that my +hazardous attempt had been successful.</p> + +<p>"Come," said she; but with no cheerful alacrity, rather with an air of +gloom.</p> + +<p>"Was—was Mrs. Ocumpaugh very much disturbed by what she saw?"</p> + +<p>"I fear so. She was half-asleep when I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> went in, dreaming as it seemed, +and pleasantly. It was cruel to disturb her; indeed I had not the heart, +so I just laid the folded paper near her hand and waited, but not too +near, not within sight of her face. A few minutes later—interminable +minutes to me—I heard the paper rattle, but I did not move. I was where +she could see me, so she knew that she was not alone and presently I +caught the sound of a strange noise from her lips, then a low cry, then +the quick inquiry in sharper and more peremptory tones than I had ever +before heard from her, 'Where did this come from? Who has dared to send +me this?' I advanced quickly. I told her about you and your desire to +see her; how you had asked me to bring her up this little sketch so that +she would know that you had real business with her; that I regretted +troubling her when she felt so weak, but that you promised revelations +or some such thing—at which I thought she grew very pale. Are you quite +convinced that you have news of sufficient importance to warrant the +expectations you have raised in her?"</p> + +<p>"Let me see her," I prayed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>She made a sign and we both left the room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ocumpaugh awaited me in her own boudoir on the second floor. As we +went up the main staircase I was afforded short glimpses of room after +room of varying richness and beauty, among them, one so dainty and +delicate in its coloring that I presumed to ask if it were that of the +missing child.</p> + +<p>Miss Porter's look as she shook her head roused my curiosity.</p> + +<p>"I should be glad to see her room," I said.</p> + +<p>She stopped, seemed to consider the matter for a moment, then advanced +quickly and, beckoning me to follow, led me to a certain door which she +quietly opened. One look, and my astonishment became apparent. The room +before me, while large and sunny, was as simple, I had almost said as +bare, as my sister's at home. No luxurious furnishings here, no +draperies of silk and damask, no half-lights drawing richness from +stained glass, no gleam of silver or sparkle of glass on bedecked +dresser or carved mantel. Not even the tinted muslins I had seen in some +nurseries; but a plain set of furniture on a plain carpet with but one +object of real adornment within the four walls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> That was a picture of +the Madonna opposite the bed, and that was beautiful. But the frame was +of the cheapest—a simple band of oak.</p> + +<p>Catching Miss Porter's eye as we quietly withdrew, I ventured to ask +whose taste this was.</p> + +<p>The answer was short and had a decided ring of disapproval in it.</p> + +<p>"Her mother's. Mrs. Ocumpaugh believes in simple surroundings for +children."</p> + +<p>"Yet she dressed Gwendolen like a princess."</p> + +<p>"Yes, for the world's eye. But in her own room she wore gingham aprons +which effectually covered up her ribbons and laces."</p> + +<p>The motive for all this was in a way evident to me, but somehow what I +had just seen did not add to my courage for the coming interview.</p> + +<p>We stopped at the remotest door of this long hall. As Miss Porter opened +it I summoned up all my nerve, and the next moment found myself standing +in the presence of the imposing figure of Mrs. Ocumpaugh drawn up in the +embrasure of a large window overlooking the Hudson. It was the same +window, doubtless,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> in which she had stood for two nights and a day +watching for some sign from the boats engaged in dragging the river-bed. +Her back was to me and she seemed to find it difficult to break away +from her fixed attitude; for several minutes elapsed before she turned +slowly about and showed me her face.</p> + +<p>When she did, I stood appalled. Not a vestige of color was to be seen on +cheek, lip or brow. She was the beautiful Mrs. Ocumpaugh still, but the +heart which had sent the hues of life to her features, was beating +slow—slow—and the effect was heartbreaking to one who had seen her in +her prime and the full glory of her beauty as wife and mother.</p> + +<p>"Pardon," I faltered out, bowing my head as if before some powerful +rebuke, though her lips were silent and her eyes pleading rather than +accusing. Truly, I had ventured far in daring to recall to this woman an +hour which at this miserable time she probably would give her very life +to forget. "Pardon," I repeated, with even a more humble intonation than +before, for she did not speak and I hardly knew how to begin the +conversation. Still she said nothing, and at last I found myself forced +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> break the unbearable silence by some definite remark.</p> + +<p>"I have presumed," I therefore continued, advancing but a step toward +her who made no advance at all, "to send you a hurried sketch of one who +says he knows you, that you might be sure I was not one of the many +eager but irresponsible men who offer help in your great trouble without +understanding your history or that of the little one to whose seemingly +unaccountable disappearance all are seeking a clue."</p> + +<p>"My history!"</p> + +<p>The words seemed forced from her, but no change in eye or look +accompanied them; nor could I catch a motion of her lips when she +presently added in a far-away tone inexpressibly affecting, "<i>Her</i> +history! Did he bid you say that?"</p> + +<p>"Doctor Pool? He has given me no commands other than to find the child. +I am not here as an agent of his. I am here in Mr. Ocumpaugh's interest +and your own; with some knowledge—a little more knowledge than others +have perhaps—to aid me in the business of recovering this child. Madam, +the police are seeking her in the holes and slums of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> great city and +at the hands of desperate characters who make a living out of the +terrors and griefs of the rich. But this is not where I should look for +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh. I should look nearer, just as you have looked +nearer; and I should use means which I am sure have not commended +themselves to the police. These means you can doubtless put in my hands. +A mother knows many things in connection with her child which she +neither thinks to impart nor would, under any ordinary circumstances, +give up, especially to a stranger. I am not a stranger; you have seen me +in Mr. Ocumpaugh's confidence; will you then pardon me if I ask what may +strike you as impertinent questions, but which may lead to the discovery +of the motive if not to the method of the little one's abduction?"</p> + +<p>"I do not understand—" She was trying to shake off her apathy. "I feel +confused, sick, almost like one dying. How can I help? Haven't I done +everything? I believe that she strayed to the river and was drowned. I +still believe her dead. Otherwise we should have news—real news—and we +don't, we don't."</p> + +<p>The intensity with which she uttered the last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> two words brought a line +of red into her gasping lips. She was becoming human, and for a minute I +could not help drawing a comparison between her and her friend Mrs. +Carew as the latter had just appeared to me in her little half-denuded +house on the other side of the hedge-row. Both beautiful, but owing +their charms to quite different sources, I surveyed this woman, white +against the pale green of the curtain before which she stood, and +imperceptibly but surely the glowing attractions of the gay-hearted +widow who had found a child to love, faded before the cold loveliness of +this bereaved mother, wan with suffering and alive with terrors of whose +depth I could judge from the clutch with which she still held my little +sketch.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile I had attempted some kind of answer to Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +heart-rending appeal.</p> + +<p>"We do not hear because she was not taken from you simply for the money +her return would bring. Indeed, after hours of action and considerable +thinking, I am beginning to doubt if she was taken for money at all. Can +you not think of some other motive? Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> not know of some one who +wanted the child from—<i>love</i>, let us say?"</p> + +<p>"Love?"</p> + +<p>Did her lips frame it, or did I see it in her eyes? Certainly I heard no +sound, yet I was conscious that she repeated the word in her mind, if +not aloud.</p> + +<p>"I know I have startled you," I pursued. "But, pardon me—I can not help +my presumption—I must be personal—I must even go so far as to probe +the wound I have made. You have a claim to Gwendolen not to be doubted, +not to be gainsaid. But isn't there some one else who is conscious of +possessing certain claims also? I do not allude to Mr. Ocumpaugh."</p> + +<p>"You mean—some relative—aunt—cousin—" She was fully human now, and +very keenly alert. "Mr. Rathbone, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, none of these." Then as the paper rattled in her +hand and I saw her eyes fall in terror on it, I said as calmly and +respectfully as I could: "You have a secret, Mrs. Ocumpaugh; that secret +I share."</p> + +<p>The paper trembled from her clasp and fell fluttering downward. I +pointed at it and waited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> till our eyes met, possibly that I might give +her some encouragement from my look if not from my words.</p> + +<p>"I was a boy in Doctor Pool's employ some five years ago, and one day—"</p> + +<p>I paused; she had made me a supplicating gesture.</p> + +<p>"Shall I not go on?" I finally asked.</p> + +<p>"Give me a minute," was her low entreaty. "O God! O God! that I should +have thought myself secure all these years, with two in the world +knowing my fatal secret!"</p> + +<p>"I learned it by accident," I went on, when I saw her eye turn again on +mine. "On a certain night six years ago, I was in the office behind an +old curtain—you remember the curtain hanging at the left of the +doctor's table over that break in the book-shelves. I had no business +there. I had been meddling with things which did not belong to me and, +when I heard the doctor's step at the door, was glad to shrink into this +refuge and wait for an opportunity to escape. It did not come very soon. +First he had one patient, then another. The last one was you; I heard +your name and caught a glimpse of your face as you went out. It was a +very interesting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> story you told him—I was touched by it though I +hardly understood."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>She was swaying from side to side, swaying so heavily that I +instinctively pushed forward a chair.</p> + +<p>"Sit," I prayed. "You are not strong enough for this excitement."</p> + +<p>She glanced at me vaguely, shook her head, but made no move toward +accepting the proffered chair. She submitted, however, when I continued +to press it upon her; and I felt less a brute and hard-hearted monster +when I saw her sitting with folded hands before me.</p> + +<p>"I bring this up," said I, "that you may understand what I mean when I +say that some one else—another woman, in fact, may feel her claim upon +this child greater than yours."</p> + +<p>"You mean the real mother. Is she known? The doctor swore—"</p> + +<p>"I do not know the real mother. I only know that you are not; that to +win some toleration from your mother-in-law, to make sure of your +husband's lasting love, you won the doctor over to a deception which +secured a seeming heir to the Ocumpaughs. Whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> child was given you, is +doubtless known to you—"</p> + +<p>"No, no."</p> + +<p>I stared, aghast.</p> + +<p>"What! You do not know?"</p> + +<p>"No, I did not wish to. Nor was she ever to know me or my name."</p> + +<p>"Then this hope has also failed. I thought that in this mother, we might +find the child's abductor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>"YOU LOOK AS IF—AS IF—"</h3> + +<p>I had studiously avoided looking at her while these last few words +passed between us, but as the silence which followed this final outburst +continued, I felt forced to glance her way if only to see what my next +move should be. I found her gazing straight at me with a bright spot on +either cheek, looking as if seared there by a red-hot iron.</p> + +<p>"You are a detective," she said, as our regards met. "You have known +this shameful secret always, yet have met my husband constantly and have +never told."</p> + +<p>"No, I saw no reason."</p> + +<p>"Did you never, when you saw how completely my husband was deceived, how +fortunes were bequeathed to Gwendolen, gifts lavished on her, her small +self made almost an idol of, because all our friends, all our relatives +saw in her a true Ocumpaugh, think it wicked to hold your peace and let +this all go on as if she were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> the actual offspring of my husband and +myself?"</p> + +<p>"No; I may have wondered at your happiness; I may have thought of the +consequences if ever he found out, but—"</p> + +<p>I dared not go on; the quick, the agonizing nerve of her grief and +suffering had been touched and I myself quailed at the result. +Stammering some excuse, I waited for her soundless anguish to subside; +then, when I thought she could listen, completed my sentence by saying:</p> + +<p>"I did not allow my thoughts to stray quite so far, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Not +till my knowledge of your secret promised to be of use did I let it rise +to any proportion in my mind. I had too much sympathy for your +difficulties; I have to-day."</p> + +<p>This hint of comfort, perhaps from the only source which could afford +her any, seemed to move her.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you are my friend?" she cried. "That you would help +me, if any help were possible, to keep my secret and—my husband's +love?"</p> + +<p>I did not know how to dash the first spark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> of hope I had seen in her +from the beginning of this more than painful interview. To avoid it, I +temporized a trifle and answered with ready earnestness:</p> + +<p>"I would do much, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, to make the consequences of your act +as ineffective as possible and still be true to the interests of Mr. +Ocumpaugh. If the child can be found—you wish that? You loved her?"</p> + +<p>"O yes, I loved her." There was no mistaking the wistfulness of her +tone. "Too well, far too well; only my husband more."</p> + +<p>"If you can find her—that is the first thing, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>It was a faint rejoinder. I looked at her again.</p> + +<p>"<i>You do not wish her found</i>," I suddenly declared.</p> + +<p>She started, rose to her feet, then suddenly sat again as if she felt +that she could not stand.</p> + +<p>"What makes you say that? How dare you? how can you say that? My husband +loves her, I love her—she is our own child, if not by birth, by every +tie which endears a child to a parent. Has that wicked man—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Doctor Pool!" I put in, for she stopped, gasping.</p> + +<p>"Yes; Doctor Pool, whom I wish to God I had never seen—has he told you +any such lies as that? the man who swore—"</p> + +<p>I put out my hand to calm her. I feared for her reason if not for her +life.</p> + +<p>"Be careful," I enjoined. "Your walls are thick but tones like yours are +penetrating." Then as I saw she would be answered, I replied to the +question still alive in her face: "No; Doctor Pool has not talked of +you. I saw it in your own manner, madam; it or something else. Perhaps +it was something else—another secret which I have not shared."</p> + +<p>She moistened her lips and, placing her two hands on the knobs of the +chair in which she sat, leaned passionately forward. Who could say she +was cold now? Who could see anything but a feeling heart in this woman, +beautiful beyond all precedent in her passion and her woe?</p> + +<p>"It is—it was—a secret. I have to confess to the abnormal. The child +did not love me; has never loved me. Lavish as I have been in my +affection and caresses, she has never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> done aught but endure them. +Though she believes me her own mother, she has shrunk from me with all +the might of her nature from the very first. It was God's punishment for +the lie by which I strove to make my husband believe himself the father +which in God's providence he was not. I have borne it; but my life has +been a living hell. It was that you saw in my face—nothing else."</p> + +<p>I was bound to believe her. The child had made her suffer, but she was +bent upon recovering her—of course. I dared not contemplate any other +alternative. Her love for her husband precluded any other desire on her +part. And so I admitted, when after a momentary survey of the task yet +before me, I ventured to remark:</p> + +<p>"Then we find ourselves once more at the point from which we started. +Where shall we look for his child? Mrs. Ocumpaugh, perhaps it would aid +us in deciding this question if you told me, sincerely told me, why you +had such strong belief in Gwendolen's having been drowned in the river. +You did believe this—I saw you at the window. You are not an actress +like your friend—you expected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> to see her body drawn from those waters. +For twenty-four hours you expected it, though every one told you it was +impossible. Why?"</p> + +<p>She crept a step nearer to me, her tones growing low and husky.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? I—I—thought that to escape me, she might have leaped +into the water. She was capable of it. Gwendolen had a strong nature. +The struggle between duty and repulsion made havoc even in her infantile +breast. Besides, we had had a scene that morning—a secret scene in +which she showed absolute terror of me. It broke my heart, and when she +disappeared in that mysterious way—and—and—one of her shoes was found +on the slope, what was I to think but that she had chosen to end her +misery—this child! this babe I had loved as my own flesh and blood!—in +the river where she had been forbidden to go?"</p> + +<p>"Suicide by a child of six! You gave another reason for your persistent +belief, at the time, Mrs. Ocumpaugh."</p> + +<p>"Was I to give this one?"</p> + +<p>"No; no one could expect you to do that, even if there had been no +secret to preserve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> and the child had been your own. But the child did +not go to the river. You are convinced of that now, are you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where then did she go? Or rather, to what place was she taken? +Somewhere near; somewhere within easy reach, for the alarm soon rose and +then she could not be found. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I am going to ask you an +apparently trivial and inconsequent question. Was Gwendolen very fond of +sweets?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>She was sitting upright now, staring me in the face in unconcealed +astonishment and a little fear.</p> + +<p>"What sort of candy—pardon me if I seem impertinent—had you in your +house on the Wednesday the child disappeared? Any which she could have +got at or the nurse given her?"</p> + +<p>"There were the confections brought by the caterer; none other that I +know of; I did not indulge her much in sweets."</p> + +<p>"Was there anything peculiar about these confections either in taste or +appearance?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't taste them. In appearance they were mostly round and red, with +a brandied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> cherry inside. Why, sir, why do you ask? What have these +miserable lumps of sugar to do with Gwendolen?"</p> + +<p>"Madam, do you recognize this?"</p> + +<p>I took from my pocket the crushed mass of colored sugar and fruit I had +picked up from the musty cushions of the old sofa in the walled-up room +of the bungalow.</p> + +<p>She took it and looked up, staring.</p> + +<p>"It is one of them," she cried. "Where did you get it? You look as +if—as if—"</p> + +<p>"I had come upon a clue to Gwendolen? Madam, I believe I have. This +candy has been held in a hot little hand. Miss Graham or one of the +girls must have given it to her as she ran through the dining-room or +across the side veranda on her way to the bungalow. She did not eat it +offhand; she evidently fell asleep before eating it, but she clutched it +very tight, only dropping it, I judge, when her muscles were quite +relaxed by sleep; and then not far; the folds of her dress caught it, +for—"</p> + +<p>"What are you telling me?" The interruption was sudden, imperative. "I +saw Gwendolen asleep; she held a string in her hand but no candy, and if +she did—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you examine both hands, madam? Think! Great issues hang on a right +settlement of this fact. Can you declare that she did not have this +candy in one of her little hands?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can not declare that."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall always believe she did, and this same sweetmeat, this +morsel from the table set for your guests on the afternoon of the +sixteenth of this month, I found last night in the disused portion of +the bungalow walled up by Mr. Ocumpaugh's father, but made accessible +since by an opening let into the floor from the cellar. This latter I +was enabled to reach by means of a trap-door concealed under the rug in +the open part of this same building."</p> + +<p>"I—I am all confused. Say that again," she pleaded, starting once more +to her feet, but this time without meeting my eyes. "In the disused part +of the bungalow? How came you there? No one ever goes there—it is a +forbidden place."</p> + +<p>"The child has been there—and lately."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" her fingers began to tremble and twist themselves together. "You +have something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> more than this to tell me. Gwendolen has been found +and—" her looks became uncertain and wandered, as I thought, toward the +river.</p> + +<p>"She has not been found, but the woman who carried her into that place +will soon be discovered."</p> + +<p>"How? Why?"</p> + +<p>I had risen by this time and could answer her on a level and face to +face.</p> + +<p>"Because the trail of her steps leads straight along the cellar floor. +We have but to measure these footprints."</p> + +<p>"And what?—what?"</p> + +<p>"We find the abductor."</p> + +<p>A silence, during which one long breath issued from her lips.</p> + +<p>"Was it a man's or woman's steps?" she finally asked.</p> + +<p>"A woman's, daintily shod; a woman of about the size of—"</p> + +<p>"Who? Why do you play with my anguish?"</p> + +<p>"Because I hate to mention the name of a friend."</p> + +<p>"Ah! What do you know of my friends?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not much. I happened to meet one of them, and as she is a very fine +woman with exquisitely shod feet, I naturally think of her."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Her hand was on my arm, her face close to mine. +"Speak! speak! the name!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carew."</p> + +<p>I had purposely refrained up to this moment from bringing this lady, +even by a hint, into the conversation. I did it now under an inner +protest. But I had not dared to leave it out. The footprints I alluded +to were startlingly like those left by her in other parts of the cellar +floor; besides, I felt it my duty to see how Mrs. Ocumpaugh bore this +name, notwithstanding my almost completely restored confidence in its +owner.</p> + +<p>She did not bear it well. She flushed and turned quickly from my side, +walking away to the window, where she again took up her stand.</p> + +<p>"You would have shown better taste by not following your first impulse," +she remarked. "Mrs. Carew's footsteps in that old cellar! You presume, +sir, and make me lose confidence in your judgment."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not at all. Mrs. Carew's feet have been all over that cellar floor. She +accompanied me through it last night, at the time I found this crushed +bonbon."</p> + +<p>I could see that Mrs. Ocumpaugh was amazed, well-nigh confounded, but +her manner altered from that moment.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it."</p> + +<p>And I did. I related the doubts I had felt concerning the completeness +of the police investigation as regarded the bungalow; my visit there at +night with Mrs. Carew, and the discoveries we had made. Then I alluded +again to the footprints and the important clue they offered.</p> + +<p>"But the child?" she interrupted "Where is the child? If taken there, +why wasn't she found there? Don't you see that your conclusions are all +wild—incredible? A dream? An impossibility?"</p> + +<p>"I go by the signs," I replied. "There seems to be nothing else to go +by."</p> + +<p>"And you want—you intend, to measure those steps?"</p> + +<p>"That is why I am here, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. To request permission to +continue this investigation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> and to ask for the key to the bungalow. +Mrs. Carew's is no longer available; or rather, I should prefer to +proceed without it."</p> + +<p>With sudden impulse she advanced rapidly toward me.</p> + +<p>"What is Mrs. Carew doing this morning?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Preparing for departure. She is quite resolved to sail to-day. Do you +wish to see her? Do you wish her confirmation of my story? I think she +will come, if you send for her."</p> + +<p>"There is no need." This after an instant's hesitation. "I have perfect +confidence in Mrs. Carew; and in you too," she added, with what she +meant for a kind look. She was by nature without coquetry, and this +attempt to please, in the midst of an overwhelming distress absorbing +all her faculties, struck me as the most pitiful effort I had ever seen. +My feeling for her made it very hard for me to proceed.</p> + +<p>"Then I may go on?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course. I don't know where the key is; I shall have to +give orders. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> will wait a few minutes, somewhere in one of the +adjoining rooms, while I look up Mr. Atwater?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>She was trembling, feverish, impatient.</p> + +<p>"Shall <i>I</i> not look up Mr. Atwater for you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No. I am feeling better. I can go myself."</p> + +<p>In another moment she had left the room, having forgotten her own +suggestion that I should await her return in some adjoining apartment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + +<h3>FRENZY</h3> + +<p>Five minutes—ten minutes—elapsed and I became greatly impatient. I +walked the floor; I stared from the window; I did everything I could +think of to pass away these unendurable moments of suspense with +creditable self-possession. But I failed utterly.</p> + +<p>As the clock ticked off the quarter hour, and then the half, I grew not +only impatient but seriously alarmed, and flinging down the book I had +taken up as a last resort, stepped from the room, in the hope of coming +across some one in the hall whom I could interrogate.</p> + +<p>But the house seemed strangely quiet, and when I had walked the full +length of the hall without encountering either maid or mistress, I +summoned up courage to return to the room I had left and ring the bell.</p> + +<p>No answer, though I waited long for it.</p> + +<p>Thinking that I had not pressed the button<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> hard enough, I made a second +attempt, but again there was no answer.</p> + +<p>Was anything amiss? Had she—</p> + +<p>My thought did not complete itself. In sudden apprehension of I knew not +what, I dashed from the room and made my way down stairs without further +ceremony.</p> + +<p>The unnatural stillness which had attracted my attention above was +repeated on the floor below. No one in the rooms, no one in the +passages.</p> + +<p>Disturbed as I had not been yet by anything which had occurred in +connection with this harrowing affair, I leaped to the nearest door and +stepped out on the lawn.</p> + +<p>My first glance was toward the river. All was as usual there. With my +worst fears dispelled, but still a prey to doubts for which as yet I had +no name, I moved toward the kitchen windows, expecting of course to find +some one there who would explain the situation to me. But not a head +appeared at my call. The kitchen, too, was deserted.</p> + +<p>"This is not chance," I involuntarily exclaimed, and was turning toward +the stables when I perceived a child, the son of one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> the gardeners, +crossing the lawn at a run, and hailing him, asked where everybody had +gone that the house seemed deserted.</p> + +<p>He looked back but kept on running, shouting as he did so:</p> + +<p>"I guess they're all down at the bungalow! I'm going there. Men are +digging up the cellar. Mrs. Ocumpaugh says she's afraid Miss Gwendolen's +body is buried there."</p> + +<p>Aghast and perhaps a trifle conscience-stricken, I stood stock-still in +the sunshine. So this was what I had done! Driven her to frenzy; roused +her imagination to such a point that she saw her darling—always her +darling even if another woman's child—lying under the clay across which +I had attempted simply to prove that she had been carried. Or—no! I +would not think that! A detective of my experience outwitted by this +stricken, half-dead woman whom I had trembled to see try to stand upon +her feet? Impossible! Yet the thought brought the blood to my cheek.</p> + +<p>Digging up the bungalow cellar! That meant destroying those footprints +before I had secured a single impression of the same.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> I should have +roused her curiosity only, not her terror.</p> + +<p>Now all might be lost unless I could arrive in time to—do what? Order +the work stopped? With what face could I do that with her standing by in +all the authority of motherhood—frenzied motherhood—seeking the +possible body of her child! My affair certainly looked dubious. Yet I +started for the bungalow like the rest, and on a run, too. Perhaps +Providence would favor me and some expedient suggest itself by which I +might still save the clue upon which so many hopes hung.</p> + +<p>The excitement which had now drawn every person on the place in the one +direction, was at its height as I burst through the thicket into the +path running immediately about the bungalow. Those who could get in at +the door had done so, filling the room whence Gwendolen had disappeared, +with awe-struck men and chattering women. Some had been allowed to +descend through the yawning trap-door, down which all were endeavoring +to peer, and, fortified by this fact, I armed myself with an appearance +of authority despite my sense of presumption, and pushed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> worked my +own way to these steps, saying that I had come to aid Mrs. Ocumpaugh, +whose attention I declared I had been the first to direct to this place.</p> + +<p>Struck with my manner if not with my argument, they yielded to my +importunity and allowed me to pass down. The stroke of the spade and the +harsh voice of the man directing the work greeted my disquieted ears. +With a bound I cleared the last half-dozen steps and, alighting on the +cellar bottom, was soon able, in spite of the semi-darkness, to look +about me and get some notion of the scene.</p> + +<p>A dozen men were working—the full corps of gardeners without doubt—and +a single glance sufficed to show me that such of the surface as had not +been upturned by their spades had been harried by their footsteps. +Useless now to promulgate my carefully formed theory, with any hope of +proof to substantiate it. The crushed bonbon, the piled-up boxes and the +freshly sawed hole were enough without doubt to establish the fact that +the child had been carried into the walled-up room above, but the link +which would have fixed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> the identity of the person so carrying her was +gone from my chain of evidence for ever. She who should have had the +greatest interest in establishing this evidence was leaning on the arm +of Miss Porter and directing, with wavering finger and a wild air, the +movements of the men, who, in a frenzy caught from her own, dug here and +dug there as that inexorable finger pointed.</p> + +<p>Sobs choked Miss Porter; but Mrs. Ocumpaugh was beyond all such signs of +grief. Her eyes moved; her breast heaved; now and then a confused +command left her lips, but that was all. Yet to me she was absolutely +terrifying, and it took all the courage left from my disappointment for +me to move so as to attract her attention. When I saw that I had +succeeded in doing this, I regretted the impulse which had led me to +break into her mood. The change which my sudden appearance caused in her +was too abrupt; too startling. I feared the effects, and put up my hand +in silent deprecation as her lips essayed to move in what might be some +very disturbing command. If she heeded it I can not say. What she said +was this:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ill_008.jpg" width="500" height="373" alt=""IT'S THE CHILD—I'M LOOKING FOR THE CHILD!"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"IT'S THE CHILD—I'M LOOKING FOR THE CHILD!"</span> +</div> + +<p>"It's the child—I'm looking for the child! She was brought here. You +proved that she was brought here. Then why don't we find her, or—or her +little innocent body?"</p> + +<p>I did not attempt an answer; I dared not—I merely turned away into a +corner, where I should be out of the way of the men. A thought was +rising in my mind; a thought which might have led to some definite +action if her voice had not risen shrilly and with a despairing +utterance in these words:</p> + +<p>"Useless! It is not here she will be found. I was mad to think it. Pull +up your spades and go."</p> + +<p>A murmur of relief from one end of the cellar to the other, and every +spade was drawn out of the ground.</p> + +<p>"I could have told you," ventured one more hardy than the rest, "that +there was no use disturbing this old clay for any such purpose. Any one +could see that no spade has been at work here before in years."</p> + +<p>"I said that I was mad," she repeated, and waved the men away.</p> + +<p>Slowly they retreated with clattering spades and a heavy tread. The +murmur which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> greeted them above slowly died out, and the bungalow was +deserted by all but our three selves. When quite sure of this, I turned, +and Miss Porter's eyes met mine with a reproachful glance easy enough +for me to understand.</p> + +<p>"I will go, too," whispered Mrs. Ocumpaugh. "Oh! this has been like +losing my darling for the second time!"</p> + +<p>Real grief is unmistakable. Recognizing the heartfelt tone in which +these words were uttered, I recurred to the idea of frenzy with all the +sympathy her situation called for. Yet I felt that I could not let her +leave before we had come to some understanding. But how express myself? +How say here and now in the presence of a sympathetic but unenlightened +third party what it would certainly be difficult enough for me to utter +to herself in the privacy of that secluded apartment in which we had met +and talked before our confidence was broken into by this impetuous act +of hers.</p> + +<p>Not seeing at the moment any natural way out of my difficulties, I stood +in painful confusion, conscious of Miss Porter's eyes and also conscious +that unless some miracle came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> to my assistance I must henceforth play +but a sorry figure in this affair, when my eyes, which had fallen to the +ground, chanced upon a morsel of paper so insignificant in size and of +such doubtful appearance that the two ladies must have wondered to see +me stoop and with ill-concealed avidity pick it up and place it in my +pocket.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose false strength was fast leaving her, now muttered +some words which were quite unintelligible to me, though they caused +Miss Porter to make me a motion very expressive of a dismissal. I did +not accept it as such, however, without making one effort to regain my +advantage. At the foot of the steps I paused and glanced back at Mrs. +Ocumpaugh. She was still looking my way, but her chin had fallen on her +breast, and she seemed to sustain herself erect only by a powerful +effort. Again her pitiable and humiliating position appealed to me, and +it was with some indication of feeling that I finally said:</p> + +<p>"Am I not to have an opportunity of finishing the conversation so +unhappily interrupted, Mrs. Ocumpaugh? I am not satisfied,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> and I do not +believe you can be, with the partial disclosures I then made. Afford me, +I pray, a continuation of that interview, if only to make plain to me +your wishes. Otherwise I may fall into some mistake—say or do something +which I might regret—for matters can not stand where they are. You know +that, do you not, madam?"</p> + +<p>"Adèle! go! go!" This to Miss Porter. "I must have a few words more with +Mr. Trevitt. I had forgotten what I owe him in the frenzy which +possessed me."</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to talk to him <i>here</i>?" asked that lady, with very marked +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"No, no; it is too cold, too dark. I think I can walk to Mrs. Carew's. +Will you join me there, Mr. Trevitt?"</p> + +<p>I bowed; but as she passed near me in going out, I whispered in her ear:</p> + +<p>"I should suggest that we hold our talk anywhere but at Mrs. Carew's +house, since she is liable to be the chief subject of our conversation."</p> + +<p>"Now?"</p> + +<p>"Now, more than ever. Her share in the child's disappearance was not +eliminated or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> affected in any way by the destruction of her +footprints."</p> + +<p>"I will go back to the house; I will see him in my own room," Mrs. +Ocumpaugh suddenly announced to her greatly disturbed companion. "Mr. +Trevitt will follow in a few minutes. I must have time to think—to +compose myself—to decide—"</p> + +<p>She was evidently thinking aloud. Anxious to save her from any +self-betrayal, I hastily interrupted her, saying quietly:</p> + +<p>"I will be at your boudoir door in a half-hour from now. I myself have +something to think of in the interim."</p> + +<p>"Be careful!" It was Miss Porter who stopped to utter this word in my +ear. "Be very careful, I entreat. Her heart-strings are strained almost +to breaking."</p> + +<p>I answered with a look. She could not be more conscious of this than I +was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + +<h3>"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?"</h3> + +<p>I was glad of that half-hour. I, too, wanted a free moment in which to +think and examine the small scrap of paper I had picked up from this +cellar floor. In the casual glance I had given it, it had seemed to +offer me a fresh clue, quite capable of replacing the old one; and I did +not change my mind on a second examination; the shape, the hue, the few +words written on it, even the musty smell pervading it, all going to +prove it to be the one possible link which could reunite the chain whose +continuity I had believed to be gone for ever.</p> + +<p>Rejoicing in my good luck, yet conscious of still moving in very +troubled waters, I cast a glance in the direction of Mrs. Carew's house, +from the door of the bungalow whence I had seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh depart, +and asked myself why Mrs. Carew, of all persons in the vicinity, had +been the only one to hang back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> from this scene of excitement. It was +not like her to hide herself at such a crisis (how invariably she had +followed me in each, and every visit I had paid here!), and though I +remembered all her reasons for pre-occupation, her absence under the +present conditions bore an aspect of guilt which sent my mind working in +a direction which was not entirely new to me, but which I had not as yet +resolutely faced.</p> + +<p>Guilt! The word recalled that other and similar one uttered by Mr. +Rathbone in that adventure which had impressed me as so unreal, and +still held its place in my mind as something I had dreamed.</p> + +<p>He was looking up when he said it, up the hill, up toward Mrs. Carew's +house. He had struck his own breast, but he had looked up, not down; and +though I had naturally associated the word he had used with himself—and +Miss Graham, with a womanly intuition, had supplied me with an +explanation of the same which was neither far-fetched nor unnatural, yet +all through this day of startling vicissitudes and unimaginable +interviews, faint doubts, bidden and unbidden, had visited my mind, +which at this moment culminated in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> what I might call the irresistible +question as to whether he might not have had in mind some one nearer and +dearer than himself when he uttered that accusing word.</p> + +<p>Her position, as I saw it now, did not make this supposition too +monstrous for belief; that is, if she secretly loved this man who did +not dare, or was too burdened with responsibility, to woo her. And who +can penetrate a woman's mind? To give him—possibly without his +knowledge—what every one who knew him declared him to stand in special +need of—money and relief from too exacting work—might have seemed +motive enough to one of her warm and impulsive temperament, for +eliminating the child she cared for, but not as she cared for him. It +was hard to think it; it would be harder yet to act upon it; but the +longer I stood there brooding, the more I felt my conviction grow that +from her and from her alone, we should yet obtain definite traces of the +missing child, if only Mrs. Ocumpaugh would uphold me in the attempt.</p> + +<p>But would Mrs. Ocumpaugh do this? I own that I had my doubts. Some +hidden cause or instinct which I had not been able<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> to reach, though I +had plunged deep into the most galling secrets of her life, seemed to +stand in the way of her full acceptance of the injury I believed her to +have received from Mrs. Carew; or rather, in the way of her public +acknowledgment of it. Though she would fain have this upturning of the +bungalow cellar pass for an act of frenzy, I could not quite bring +myself to look upon it as such since taking a final observation of its +condition.</p> + +<p>Though her professed purpose had been to seek the body of her child, the +spades had not gone deeper than their length. It had been harrowing, not +digging, she had ordered, and harrowing meant nothing more than an +obliteration of the footprints which I had menaced her with comparing +with those of Mrs. Carew. Why this show of consideration to one she +might call friend, but who could hold no comparison in her mind with the +safety or recovery of the child which, if not hers, was the beloved +object of her husband's heart and only too deeply cherished by herself? +Did she fear her charming neighbor? Was the bond between them founded on +something besides love, and did she apprehend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> that a discovery of Mrs. +Carew's connection with Gwendolen's disappearance would only precipitate +her own disgrace and open up to public recognition the false +relationship she held toward the little heiress? Hard questions these, +but ones which must soon be faced and answered; for wretched as was Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's position and truly as I sympathized with her misery, I was +none the less resolved to force such acknowledgments from her as would +allow me to approach Mrs. Carew with a definite accusation such as even +that daring spirit could not withstand.</p> + +<p>Thus resolved, and resisting all temptation to hazard an interview with +the latter lady before I had seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh again, I made my way up +slowly through the grounds and entered by the side door just as my watch +told me that the half-hour of my waiting was over.</p> + +<p>Miss Porter was in the upper hall, but turned aside at my approach with +a meaning gesture in the direction of the boudoir. I thought that her +eyes looked red; certainly she was trembling very much; and with this +poor preparation for an interview before which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> the strongest and most +experienced man might quail, I advanced for the second time that morning +to the door behind which the distracted mother awaited me.</p> + +<p>If I knocked I do not remember it. I rather think she opened the door +for me herself upon hearing my step in the hall. At all events we were +soon standing again face to face, and the battle of our two wills—for +it would be nothing less now—had begun.</p> + +<p>She was the first to speak. Braving my inquiring look with eyes in whose +depths determination struggled with growing despair, she asked me +peremptorily, almost wildly:</p> + +<p>"Have you told any one? Do you mean to publish my shame to the world? I +see decision in your face. Does it mean that? Tell me! Does it mean +that?"</p> + +<p>"No, madam; far be it from me to harbor such an intention unless driven +to it by the greatest necessity. Your secret is your own; my only reason +for betraying my knowledge of it was the hope I cherished of its +affording us some clue to the identity of Gwendolen's abductor. It has +not done so yet, may never do so; then let us leave that topic and +return<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> to the clue offered by the carrying of that child into the +long-closed room back of the bungalow. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, intentionally or +unintentionally, the proof upon which I relied for settling the identity +of the person so carrying her has been destroyed."</p> + +<p>With a flush which her seemingly bloodless condition made perfectly +startling, she drew back, breaking into wild disclaimers:</p> + +<p>"I know—I fear—I was too wild—too eager. I thought only of what might +lie under that floor."</p> + +<p>"In a half-foot of earth, madam? The spades did not enter any deeper."</p> + +<p>With a sudden access of courage, born possibly of her despair, she +sought neither to attempt denial nor palliate the fact.</p> + +<p>"And if this was my intention—though I don't acknowledge it—you must +recognize my reason. I do not believe—you can not make me believe—that +Gwendolen was carried into that room by Mrs. Carew. But I could see that +you believed it, and to save her the shame of such an accusation and all +that might follow from it, I—oh, Mr. Trevitt, you do not think this +possible! Do you know so little of the impulses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> of a mind, bewildered +as mine has been by intolerable suffering?"</p> + +<p>"I can understand madness, and I am willing to think that you were mad +just then—especially as no harm has been done and I can still accuse +Mrs. Carew of a visit to that room, with the proof in my hand."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" The steady voice was faltering, but I could not say +with what emotion—hope for herself—doubt of me—fear for her friend; +it might have been any of these; it might have been all. "Was there a +footprint left, then? You say proof. Do you mean proof? A detective does +not use that word lightly."</p> + +<p>"You may be sure that I would not," I returned. Then in answer to the +appeal of her whole attitude and expression: "No, there were no +footprints left; but I came upon something else which I have sufficient +temerity to believe will answer the same purpose. Remember that my +object is first to convince you and afterward Mrs. Carew, that it will +be useless for her to deny that she has been in that room. Once that is +understood, the rest will come easy; for we know the child<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> was there, +and it is not a place she could have found alone."</p> + +<p>"The proof!" She had no strength for more than that "The proof! Mr. +Trevitt, the proof!"</p> + +<p>I put my hand in my pocket, then drew it out again empty, making haste, +however, to say:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I do not want to distress you, but I must ask you a few +questions first. Do you know the secret of that strangely divided room?"</p> + +<p>"Only in a general way. Mr. Ocumpaugh has never told me."</p> + +<p>"You have not seen the written account of it?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Nor given into Mrs. Carew's hand such an account?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew's duplicity was assuming definite proportions.</p> + +<p>"Yet there is such an account and I have listened to a reading of it."</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam. Mrs. Carew read it to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> last night in her own house. She +told me it came to her from your hands. You see she is not always +particular in her statements."</p> + +<p>A lift of the hand, whether in deprecation or appeal I could not say, +was all the answer this received. I saw that I must speak with the +utmost directness.</p> + +<p>"This account was in the shape of a letter on several sheets of paper. +These sheets were very old, and were torn as well as discolored. I had +them in my hand and noticed that a piece was lacking from one of them. +Mrs. Ocumpaugh, are you ready to repeat that Mrs. Carew did not receive +this old letter from you or obtain it in any way you know of from the +house we are now in?"</p> + +<p>"I had rather not be forced to contradict Mrs. Carew," was the low +reply; "but in justice to you I must acknowledge that I hear of this +letter for the first time. God grant—but what can any old letter have +to do with the agonizing question before us? I am not strong, Mr. +Trevitt—I am suffering—do not confuse and burden me, I pray—"</p> + +<p>"Pardon, I am not saying one unnecessary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> word. These old sheets—a +secret from the family—did not come from this house. Whence, then, did +they come into Mrs. Carew's possession? I see you have forestalled my +answer; and if you will now glance at this end of paper, picked up by me +in your presence from the cellar floor across which we both know that +her footsteps have passed, you will see that it is a proof capable of +convicting her of the fact."</p> + +<p>I held out the scrap I now took from my pocket.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ocumpaugh's hand refused to take it or her eyes to consult it.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless I still held it out.</p> + +<p>"Pray read the few words you will find there," I urged. "They are in +explanation of the document itself, but they will serve to convince you +that the letter to which they were attached, and which is now in Mrs. +Carew's hands, came from that decaying room."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" The gesture which accompanied this exclamation was more than +one of refusal, it was that of repulse. "I can not see—I do not need +to—I am convinced."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, but that is not enough, Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> Ocumpaugh. I want you to be +certain. Let me read these words. The story they prefaced is unknown to +you; let it remain so; all I need to tell you about it is this: that it +was written by Mr. Ocumpaugh's father—he who raised this partition and +who is the undoubted author of these lines. Remember that they headed +the letter:</p> + +<p>"'<i>Perish with the room whose ceiling oozes blood! If in time to come +any man reads these lines, he will know why I pulled down the encircling +wall built by my father, and why I raised a new one across this end of +the pavilion.</i>'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ocumpaugh's eyes opened wide in horror.</p> + +<p>"Blood!" she repeated. "A ceiling oozing blood!"</p> + +<p>"An old superstition, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, quite unworthy your attention at +this moment. Do not let your mind dwell upon that portion of what I have +read, but on the word 'room.' 'Perish with the room!' We know what room +was meant; there can be but one. I have myself seen the desk from which +these sheets were undoubtedly taken—and for them to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> in the hand of +a certain person argues—" Mrs. Ocumpaugh's hand went up in dissuasion, +but I relentlessly finished—"that she has been in that room! Are you +more than convinced of this now? Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>She did not need to make reply; eyes and attitude spoke for her. But it +was the look and attitude of despair, not hope. Evidently she had the +very greatest reason to fear Mrs. Carew, who possibly had her hard side +as well as her charming one.</p> + +<p>To ease the situation, I spoke what was in both our minds.</p> + +<p>"I see that you are sure. That makes my duty very plain, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. +My next visit must be upon Mrs. Carew."</p> + +<p>The spirit which, from the beginning of this later interview, had +infused fresh strength into her feeble frame, seemed to forsake her at +this simple declaration; her whole form drooped, and the eyes, which had +rested on mine, turned in their old way to the river.</p> + +<p>I took advantage of this circumstance.</p> + +<p>"Some one who knows you well, who knows the child well, dropped the +wrong shoe into the river."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>A murmur, nothing more, from Mrs. Ocumpaugh's set lips.</p> + +<p>"Could it—I do not say that it was—I don't see any reason why it +should be—but could it have been Mrs. Carew?"</p> + +<p>Not a sound this time, not a sound.</p> + +<p>"She was down at the dock that night. Did you know it?"</p> + +<p>A gesture, but whether of assent or dissent I could not tell.</p> + +<p>"We know of no other person who was there but the men employed."</p> + +<p>"<i>What do you know?</i>"</p> + +<p>With all her restraint gone—a suffering and despairing woman, Mrs. +Ocumpaugh was on her knees, grasping my arm with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Quit this torture! tell me that you know it all and leave me +to—to—die!"</p> + +<p>"Madam!"</p> + +<p>I was confounded; and as I looked at her face, strained back in wild +appeal, I was more than confounded, I was terrified.</p> + +<p>"Madam, what does this mean? Are you—you—"</p> + +<p>"Lock the door!" she cried; "no one must come in here now. I have said +so much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> that I must say more. Listen and be my friend; oh, be my +friend! <i>Those were my footsteps you saw in the bungalow. It was I who +carried Gwendolen into that secret hole.</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + +<h3>PROVIDENCE</h3> + +<p>Had I suspected this? Had all my efforts for the last half-hour been for +the purpose of entrapping her into some such avowal? I do not know. My +own feelings at the time are a mystery to me; I blundered on, with a +blow here and a blow there, till I hit this woman in a vital spot, and +achieved the above mentioned result.</p> + +<p>I was not happy when I reached it. I felt no elation; scarcely any +relief. It all seemed so impossible. She marked the signs of incredulity +in my face and spoke up quickly, almost sharply:</p> + +<p>"You do not believe me. I will prove the truth of what I say. +Wait—wait!"—and running to a closet, she pulled out a drawer—where +was her weakness now?—and brought from it a pair of soiled white +slippers. "If the house had been ransacked," she proceeded pantingly, +"these would have told their own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> tale. I was shocked when I saw their +condition, and kept my guests waiting till I changed them. Oh, they will +fit the footprints." Her smile was ghastly. Softly she set the shoes +down. "Mrs. Carew helped me; she went for the child at night. Oh, we are +in a terrible strait, we two, unless you will stand by us like a +friend—and you will do that, won't you, Mr. Trevitt? No one else knows +what I have just confessed—not even Doctor Pool, though he suspects me +in ways I never dreamed of. Money shall not stand in the way—I have a +fortune of my own now—nothing shall stand in the way, if you will have +pity on Mrs. Carew and myself and help us to preserve our secret."</p> + +<p>"Madam, what secret? I pray you to make me acquainted with the whole +matter in all its details before you ask my assistance."</p> + +<p>"Then you do not know it?"</p> + +<p>"Not altogether, and I must know it altogether. First, what has become +of the child?"</p> + +<p>"She is safe and happy. You have seen her; you mentioned doing so just +now."</p> + +<p>"Harry?"</p> + +<p>"Harry."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<p>I rose before her in intense excitement. What a plot! I stood aghast at +its daring and the success it had so nearly met with.</p> + +<p>"I've had moments of suspicion," I admitted, after a short examination +of this beautiful woman's face for the marks of strength which her part +in this plot seemed to call for. "But they all vanished before Mrs. +Carew's seemingly open manner and the perfect boyishness of the child. +Is she an actress too—Gwendolen?"</p> + +<p>"Not when she plays horse and Indian and other boyish games. She is only +acting out her nature. She has no girl tastes; she is all boy, and it +was by means of these instincts that Mrs. Carew won her. She promised +her that if she would leave home and go with her to Europe she would cut +her hair and call her Harry, and dress her so that every one would think +her a boy. And she promised her something else—that she should go to +her father—Gwendolen idolizes Mr. Ocumpaugh."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"I know. You wonder why, if I loved my husband, I should send away the +one cherished object of his life. It is because our love was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> threatened +by this very object. I saw nothing but death and chaos before me if I +kept her. My husband adores the child, but he hates and despises a +falsehood and my secret was threatened by the one man who knows it—your +Doctor Pool. My accomplice once, he declared himself ready to become my +accuser if the child remained under the Ocumpaugh roof one day after the +date he fixed for her removal."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" I ejaculated, with sudden comprehension of the full meaning of the +scrawls I had seen in so many parts of the grounds. "And by what right +did he demand this? What excuse did he give you? His wish for money, +immense money—old miser that he is!"</p> + +<p>"No; for money I could have given him. His motive is a less tangible +one. He has scruples, he says—religious scruples following a change of +heart. Oh, he was a cruel man to meet, determined, inexorable. I could +not move or influence him. The proffer of money only hurt my cause. A +fraud had been perpetrated, he said, and Mr. Ocumpaugh must know it. +Would I confess the truth to him myself? No. Then he would do so for me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +and bring proofs to substantiate his statements. I thought all was +lost—my husband's confidence, his love, his pleasure even in the child, +for it was his own blood that he loved in her, and her connection with +his family of whose prestige he has an exaggerated idea. Made desperate +by the thought, I faced this cruel doctor—(it was in his own office; he +had presumed upon that old secret linking us together to summon me +there)—and told him solemnly that rather than do this I would kill +myself. And he almost bade me, 'Kill!' but refrained when the word had +half left his lips and changed it to a demand for the child's immediate +removal from the benefits it enjoyed under false pretenses."</p> + +<p>And from this Mrs. Ocumpaugh went on to relate how he had told her that +Gwendolen had inherited fortunes because she was believed to be an +Ocumpaugh; that not being an Ocumpaugh she must never handle those +fortunes, winding up with some such language as this: "Manage it how you +will, only relieve me from the oppression of feeling myself a party to +the grossest of deceptions. Can not the child run away and be lost? I am +willing to aid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> you in that, even to paying for her bringing up in some +decent, respectable way, such as would probably have been her lot if you +had not interfered to place her in the way of millions." It was a mad +thought, half meant and apparently wholly impossible to carry out +without raising suspicions as damaging as confession itself. But it took +an immediate hold upon the miserable woman he addressed, though she gave +little evidence of it, for he proceeded to add in a hard tone: "That or +immediate confession to your husband, with me by to substantiate your +story. No slippery woman's tricks will go down with me. Fix the date +here and now and I promise to stand back and await the result in total +silence. Dally with it by so much as an hour, and I am at your gates +with a story that all must hear." Is it a matter of wonder that the +stricken woman, without counsel and prohibited, from the very nature of +her secret, from seeking counsel, uttered the first one that came to +mind and went home to brood over her position and plan how she could +satisfy his demands with the least cost to herself, her husband and the +child?</p> + +<p>Mr. Ocumpaugh was in Europe. This was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> her one point of comfort. What +was done could be done in his absence, and this fact greatly minimized +any risk she was likely to incur. When he returned he would find the +house in mourning, for she had already decided within herself that only +by apparent death could this child be safely robbed of her endowments as +an Ocumpaugh and an heiress. He would grieve, but his grief would lack +the sting of shame, and so in course of time would soften into a lovely +memory of one who had been as the living sunshine to him and, like the +sunshine, brief in its shining. Thus and thus only could she show her +consideration for him. For herself no consideration was possible. It +must always be her fate to know the child alive yet absolutely removed +from her. This was a sorrow capable of no alleviation, for Gwendolen was +passionately dear to her, all the dearer, perhaps, because the +mother-thirst had never been satisfied; because she had held the cup in +hand but had never been allowed to drink. The child's future—how to rob +her of all she possessed, yet secure her happiness and the prospect of +an honorable estate—ah, there was the difficulty! and one she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> quite +failed to solve till, in a paroxysm of terror and despair, after five +sleepless nights, she took Mrs. Carew into her confidence and implored +her aid.</p> + +<p>The free, resourceful, cheery nature of the broader-minded woman saw +through the difficulty at once. "Give her to me," she cried. "I love +little children passionately and have always grieved over my childless +condition. I will take Gwendolen, raise her and fill her little heart so +full of love she will never miss the magnificence she has been brought +to look upon as her birthright. Only I shall have to leave this +vicinity—perhaps the country."</p> + +<p>"And you would be willing?" asked the poor mother—mother by right of +many years of service, if not of blood.</p> + +<p>The answer broke her heart though it was only a smile. But such a +smile—confident, joyous, triumphant; the smile of a woman who has got +her heart's wish, while she, she, must henceforth live childless.</p> + +<p>So that was settled, but not the necessary ways and means of +accomplishment; those came only with time. The two women had always been +friends, so their frequent meetings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> in the green boudoir did not waken +a suspicion. A sudden trip to Europe was decided on by Mrs. Carew and by +degrees the whole plot perfected. In her eyes it looked feasible enough +and they both anticipated complete success. Having decided that the +scheme as planned by them could be best carried out in the confusion of +a great entertainment, cards were sent out for the sixteenth, the date +agreed upon in the doctor's office as the one which should see a +complete change in Gwendolen's prospects. It was also settled that on +the same day Mrs. Carew should bring home, from a certain small village +in Connecticut, her little nephew who had lately been left an orphan. +There was no deception about this nephew. Mrs. Carew had for some time +supplied his needs and paid for his board in the farm-house where he had +been left, and in the emergency which had just come up, she took care to +publish to all her friends that she was going to bring him home and take +him with her to Europe. Further, a market-man and woman with whom Mrs. +Carew had had dealings for years were persuaded to call at her house +shortly after three that afternoon, to take this nephew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> of hers by a +circuitous and prolonged ride through the country to an institution in +which she had had him entered under an assumed name. All this in one +day.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Carew undertook to open with her own hands a passage from +the cellar of the bungalow into the long closed room behind the +partition. This was to insure such a safe retreat for the child during +the first search, that by no possibility could anything be found to +contradict the testimony of the little shoe which Mrs. Ocumpaugh +purposed presenting to all eyes as found on the slope leading to that +great burial-place, the river. Otherwise the child might have been +passed over to Mrs. Carew at once. All this being decided upon, each +waited to perform the part assigned her—Mrs. Carew in a fever of +delight—for she was passionately devoted to Gwendolen and experienced +nothing but rapture at the prospect of having this charming child all to +herself—Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose only recompense would be freedom from a +threatening exposure which would cost her the only thing she prized, her +husband's love, in a condition of cold dread, relieved only by the +burning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> sense of the necessity of impressing upon the whole world, and +especially upon Mr. Ocumpaugh, an absolute belief in the child's death.</p> + +<p>This was her first care. To this her mind clung with an agony of purpose +which was the fittest preparation possible for real display of feeling +when the time came. But she forgot one thing—they both forgot one +thing—that chance or Providence might ordain that witnesses should be +on the road below Homewood to prove that the child did not cross the +track at the time of her disappearance. To them it seemed enough to +plead the child's love for the water, her desire to be allowed to fish, +the opportunity given her to escape, and—the little shoes. Such +short-sightedness in face of a great peril could be pardoned Mrs. +Ocumpaugh on the verge of delirium under her cold exterior, but Mrs. +Carew should have taken this possibility into account; and would have +done so, probably, had she not been completely absorbed in the part she +would be called upon to play when the exchange of children should be +made and Gwendolen be intrusted to her charge within a dozen rods of her +own home. This she could dwell on with the whole force<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> of her mind; +this she could view in all its relations and make such a study of as to +provide herself against all contingencies. But the obvious danger of a +gang of men being placed just where they could serve as witnesses, in +contradiction of the one fact upon which the whole plot was based, never +even struck her imagination.</p> + +<p>The nursery-governess whose heart was divided between her duty to the +child and her strong love of music, was chosen as their unconscious +accomplice in this fraud. As the time for the great musicale approached, +she was bidden to amuse Gwendolen in the bungalow, with the +understanding that if the child fell asleep she might lay her on the +divan, and so far leave her as to take her place on the bench outside +where the notes of the solo singers could reach her. That Gwendolen +would fall asleep and fall asleep soon, the wretched mother well knew, +for she had given her a safe but potent sleeping draft which could not +fail to insure a twelve hours' undisturbed slumber to so healthy a +child. The fact that the little one had shrunk more than ever from her +attentions that morning both hurt and encouraged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> her. Certainly it +would make it easier for Mrs. Carew to influence Gwendolen. In her own +mind filled with terrible images of her husband's grief and her long +prospective dissimulation, one picture rose in brilliant contrast to the +dark one embodying her own miserable future and that of the soon-to-be +bereaved father. It was that of the perfect joy of the hungry-hearted +child in the arms of the woman she loved best. It brought her cheer—it +brought her anguish. It was a salve to her conscience and a mortal +thrust in an already festering wound. She shut it from her eyes as much +as possible,—and so, the hour came.</p> + +<p>We know its results—how far the scheme succeeded and whence its great +failure arose. Gwendolen fell asleep almost immediately on reaching the +bungalow and Miss Graham, dreaming no harm and having the most perfect +confidence in Mrs. Ocumpaugh, took advantage of the permission she had +received, and slipped outside to sit on the bench and listen to the +music. Presently Mrs. Ocumpaugh appeared, saying that she had left her +guests for a moment just to take a look at Gwendolen and see if all were +well with her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> + +<p>As she needed no attendance, Miss Graham might stay where she was. And +Miss Graham did, taking great pleasure in the music, which was the +finest she had ever heard. Meanwhile Mrs. Ocumpaugh entered the +bungalow, and, untying the child's shoes as she had frequently done +before when she found her asleep, she lifted her and carried her just as +she was down the trap, the door of which she had previously raised. The +darkness lurking in such places, a darkness which had rendered it so +impenetrable at midnight, was relieved to some extent in daylight by +means of little grated openings in the wall under the beams, so that her +chief difficulty lay in holding up her long dress and sustaining the +heavy child at the same time. But the exigency of the moment and her +apprehension lest Miss Graham should reënter the bungalow before she +could finish her task and escape, gave great precision to her movements, +and in an incredibly short space of time she had reached those musty +precincts which, if they should not prove the death of the child, would +safely shelter her from every one's eye, till the first excitement of +her loss was over, and the conviction of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> death by drowning became a +settled fact in every mind.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ocumpaugh's return was a flight. She had brought one of the little +shoes with her, concealed in a pocket she had made especially for it in +the trimmings of her elaborate gown. She found the bungalow empty, the +trap still raised, and Miss Graham, toward whom she cast a hurried look +through the window, yet in her place, listening with enthralled +attention to the great tenor upon whose magnificent singing Mrs. +Ocumpaugh had relied for the successful carrying out of what she and +Mrs. Carew considered the most critical part of the plot. So far then, +all was well. She had but to drop the trap-door carefully to its place, +replace the corner of the carpet she had pulled up, push down with her +foot the two or three nails she had previously loosened, and she would +be quite at liberty to quit the place and return to her guests.</p> + +<p>But she found that this was not as easy as she had imagined. The clogs +of a terrible, almost a criminal, consciousness held back her steps. She +stumbled as she left the bungalow and stopped to catch her breath as if +the oppression<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> of the room in which she had immured her darling had +infected the sunny air of this glorious day and made free breathing an +impossibility. The weights on her feet were so palpable to her that she +unconsciously looked down at them. This was how she came to notice the +dust on her shoes. Alive to the story it told, she burst the spell which +held her and made a bound toward the house.</p> + +<p>Rushing to her room she shook her skirts and changed her shoes, and thus +freed from all connecting links with that secret spot, reëntered among +her guests, as beautiful and probably as wretched a woman as the world +contained that day.</p> + +<p>Yet not as wretched as she could be. There were depths beneath these +depths. If he should ever know! If he should ever come to look at her +with horrified, even alienated eyes! Ah, that were the end—that would +mean the river for her—the river which all were so soon to think had +swallowed the little Gwendolen. Was that Miss Graham coming? Was the +stir she now heard outside, the first indication of the hue and cry +which would soon ring through the whole place and her shrinking heart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +as well? No, no, not yet. She could still smile, must smile and smite +her two glove-covered hands together in simulated applause of notes and +tones she did not even hear. And no one noted anything strange in that +smile or in that gracious bringing together of hands, which if any one +had had the impulse to touch—</p> + +<p>But no one thought of doing that. A heart may bleed drop by drop to its +death in our full sight without our suspecting it, if the eyes above it +still beam with natural brightness. And hers did that. She had always +been called impassive. God be thanked that no warmth was expected from +her and that no one would suspect the death she was dying, if she did +not cry out. But the moment came when she did cry out. Miss Graham +entered, told her story, and all Mrs. Ocumpaugh's pent-up agony burst +its bounds in a scream which to others seemed but the natural outburst +of an alarmed mother. She fled to the bungalow, because that seemed the +natural thing to do, and never forgetting what was expected of her, +cried aloud in presence of its emptiness: "The river! the river!" and +went stumbling down the bank.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p> + +<p>The shoe was near her hand and she drew it out as she went on. When they +found her she had fainted; the excess of excitement has this natural +outcome. She did not have to play a part, the humiliation of her own +deed and the terrors yet to come were eating up her very soul. Then came +the blow, the unexpected, overwhelming blow of finding that the +deception planned with such care—a deception upon the success of which +the whole safety of the scheme depended—was likely to fail just for the +simple reason that a dozen men could swear that the child had never +crossed the track. She was dazed—confounded. Mrs. Carew was not by to +counsel her; she had her own part in this business to play; and Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, conscious of being mentally unfit for any new planning, +conscious indeed of not being able to think at all, simply followed her +instinct and held to the old cry in face of proof, of persuasion, of +reason even; and so, did the very wisest thing possible, no one +expecting reason in a mother reeling under such a vital shock.</p> + +<p>But the cooler, more subtile and less guilty Mrs. Carew had some +judgment left, if her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> friend had lost hers. Her own part had been well +played. She had brought her nephew home without giving any one, not even +the maid she had provided herself with in New York, an opportunity to +see his face; and she had passed him over, dressed in quite different +clothes, to the couple in the farm-wagon, who had carried him, as she +supposed, safely out of reach and any possibility of discovery. You see +her calculations failed here also. She did not credit the doctor with +even the little conscience he possessed, and, unconscious of his near +waiting on the highway in anxious watch for the event concerning which +he had his own secret doubts, she deluded herself into thinking that all +they had to fear was a continuation of the impression that Gwendolen had +not gone down to the river and been drowned.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, she had acted out her little part—received the +searching party and gone with them all over the house even to the door +of the room where she said her little nephew was resting after his +journey—(Did they look in? Perhaps, and perhaps not, it mattered +little, for the bed had been arranged against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> this contingency and no +one but a detective bent upon ferreting out crime would have found it +empty)—she asked herself how she could strengthen the situation and +cause the theory advanced by Mrs. Ocumpaugh to be received, +notwithstanding the evidence of seeming eye-witnesses. The result was +the throwing of a second shoe into the water as soon as it was dark +enough for her to do this unseen. As she had to approach the river by +her own grounds, and as she was obliged to choose a place sufficiently +remote from the lights about the dock not to incur the risk of being +detected in her hazardous attempt, the shoe fell at a spot farther down +stream than the searchers had yet reached, and the intense excitement I +had myself seen in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's face the day I made my first visit +to Homewood, sprang from the agony of suspense with which she watched, +after twenty-four hours of alternating expectation and disappointment, +the finding of this second shoe which, with fanatic confidence, she +hoped would bring all the confirmation to be desired of her oft-repeated +declaration that the child would yet be found in the river.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile, to the infinite dismay of both, the matter had been placed in +the hands of the police and word sent to Mr. Ocumpaugh, not that the +child was dead, but missing. This meant world-wide publicity and the +constant coming and going about Homewood of the very men whose insight +and surveillance were most to be dreaded. Mrs. Ocumpaugh sank under the +terrors thus accumulating upon her; but Mrs. Carew, of different +temperament and history, rose to meet them with a courage which bade +fair to carry everything before it.</p> + +<p>As midnight approached (the hour agreed upon in their compact) she +prepared to go for Gwendolen. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, who had not forgotten what +was expected of her at that hour, roused as the clock struck twelve, and +uttering a loud cry, rushed from her place in the window down to the +lawn, calling out that she had heard the men shout aloud from the boats. +Her plan was to draw every one who chanced to be about, down to the +river bank, in order to give Mrs. Carew full opportunity to go and come +unseen on her dangerous errand. And she apparently succeeded in this, +for by the time she had crept back in seeming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> disappointment to the +house, a light could be seen burning behind a pink shade in one of Mrs. +Carew's upper windows—the signal agreed upon between them of the +presence of Gwendolen in her new home.</p> + +<p>But small was the relief as yet. The shoe had not been found, and at any +moment some intruder might force his way into Mrs. Carew's house and, in +spite of all her precautions, succeed in obtaining a view of the little +Harry and recognize in him the missing child.</p> + +<p>Of these same precautions some mention must be made. The artful widow +had begun by dismissing all her help, giving as an excuse her speedy +departure for Europe, and the colored girl she had brought up from New +York saw no difference in the child running about the house in its +little velvet suit from the one who, with bound-up face and a heavy +shade over his eyes, came up in the cars with her in Mrs. Carew's lap. +Her duties being limited to a far-off watch on the child to see that it +came to no harm, she was the best witness possible in case of police +intrusion or neighborhood gossip. As for Gwendolen herself, the novelty +of the experience and the prospect held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> out by a speedy departure to +"papa's country" kept her amused and even hilarious. She laughed when +her hair was cut short, darkened and parted. She missed but one thing, +and that was her pet plaything which she used to carry to bed with her +at night. The lack of this caused some tears—a grief which was divined +by Mrs. Ocumpaugh, who took pains to assuage it in the manner we all +know.</p> + +<p>But this was after the finding of the second shoe; the event so long +anticipated and so little productive. Somehow, neither Mrs. Carew nor +Mrs. Ocumpaugh had taken into consideration the fact of the child's +shoes being rights and lefts, and when this attempt to second the first +deception was decided on, it was thought a matter of congratulation that +Gwendolen had been supplied with two pairs of the same make and that one +pair yet remained in her closet. The mate of that shown by Mrs. +Ocumpaugh was still on the child's foot in the bungalow, but there being +no difference in any of them, what was simpler than to take one of these +and fling it where it would be found. Alas! the one seized upon by Mrs. +Carew was for the same foot as that already shown and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> commented on, and +thus this second attempt failed even more completely than the first, and +people began to cry, "A conspiracy!"</p> + +<p>And a conspiracy it was, but one which might yet have succeeded if +Doctor Pool's suspicion of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's intentions, and my own +secret knowledge of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's real position toward this child, +could have been eliminated from the situation. But with those two +factors against them, detection had crept upon them in unknown ways, and +neither Mrs. Ocumpaugh's frantic clinging to the theory she had so +recklessly advanced, nor Mrs. Carew's determined effort to meet +suspicion with the brave front calculated to disarm it, was of any +avail. The truth would have its way and their secret stood revealed.</p> + +<p>This was the story told me by Mrs. Ocumpaugh; not in the continuous and +detailed manner I have here set down, but in disjointed sentences and +wild bursts of disordered speech. When it was finished she turned upon +me eyes full of haggard inquiry.</p> + +<p>"Our fate is in your hands," she falteringly declared. "What will you do +with it?"</p> + +<p>It was the hardest question which had ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> been put me. For minutes I +contemplated her in a silence which must have been one prolonged agony +to her. I did not see my way; I did not see my duty. Then the fifty +thousand dollars!</p> + +<p>At last, I replied as follows:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, if you will let me advise you, as a man intensely +interested in the happiness of yourself and husband, I would suggest +your meeting him at quarantine and telling him the whole truth."</p> + +<p>"I would rather die," said she.</p> + +<p>"Yet only by doing what I suggest can you find any peace in life. The +consciousness that others know your secret will come between you and any +satisfaction you can ever get out of your husband's continued +confidence. A wrong has been done; you are the only one to right it."</p> + +<p>"I can not. I can die, but I can not do that."</p> + +<p>And for a minute I thought she would die then and there.</p> + +<p>"Doctor Pool is a fanatic; he will pursue you until he is assured that +the child is in good hands."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You can assure him of that now."</p> + +<p>"Next month his exactions may take another direction. You can never +trust a man who thinks he has a mission. Pardon my presumption. No +mercenary motive prompts what I am saying now."</p> + +<p>"So you intend to publish my story, if I do not?"</p> + +<p>I hesitated again. Such questions can not be decided in a moment. Then, +with a certain consciousness of doing right, I answered earnestly:</p> + +<p>"To no one but to Mr. Ocumpaugh do I feel called upon to disclose what +really concerns no one but yourself and him."</p> + +<p>Her hands rose toward me in a gesture which may have been an expression +of gratitude or only one of simple appeal.</p> + +<p>"He is not due until Saturday," I added gently.</p> + +<p>No answer from the cold lips. I do not think she could have spoken if +she had tried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + +<h3>ON THE SECOND TERRACE</h3> + +<p>My first step on leaving Homewood was to seek a public telephone. +Calling up Doctor Pool in Yonkers, I assured him that he might rest easy +as to the young patient to whose doubtful condition he had called my +attention. That she was in good hands and was doing well. That I had +seen her and would give him all necessary particulars when I came to +interview him later in the day. To his uneasy questions I vouchsafed +little reply. I was by no means sure of the advisability of taking him +into my full confidence. It was enough for him to know that his demands +had been complied with without injury to the child.</p> + +<p>Before hanging up the receiver, I put him a question on my own behalf. +How was the boy in his charge? The growl he returned me was very +non-committal, and afforded me some food for thought as I turned back to +Mrs. Carew's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> cottage, where I now proposed to make a final visit.</p> + +<p>I entered from the road. The heavily wooded grounds looked desolate. The +copper beeches which are the glory of the place seemed to have lost +color since I last saw them above the intervening hedges. Even the +house, as it gradually emerged to view through the close shrubbery, wore +a different aspect from usual. In another moment I saw why. Every +shutter was closed and not a vestige of life was visible above or below. +Startled, for I had not expected quite so hasty a departure on her part, +I ran about to the side door where I had previously entered and rang fit +to wake the dead. Only solitary echoes came from within and I was about +to curse the time I had lost in telephoning to Doctor Pool, when I heard +a slight sound in the direction of the private path, and, leaping +hastily to the opening, caught the glimpse of something or somebody +disappearing down the first flight of steps.</p> + +<p>Did I run? You may believe I did, at least till I had descended the +first terrace; then my steps grew gradually wary and finally ceased; for +I could hear voices ahead of me on the second<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> terrace to which I had +now come, and these voices came from persons standing still. If I rushed +on I should encounter these persons, and this was undesirable. I +accordingly paused just short of the top, and so heard what raised the +moment into one of tragic importance.</p> + +<p>One of the speakers was Mrs. Carew—there was no doubting this—the +other was Mr. Rathbone. From no other lips than his could I hope to hear +words uttered with such intensity, though he was guarded in his speech, +or thought he was, which is not always the same thing.</p> + +<p>He was pleading with her, and my heart stood still with the sense of +threatening catastrophe as I realized the attitude of the pair. He, as +every word showed, was still ignorant of Gwendolen's fate, consequently +of the identity of the child who I had every reason to believe was at +that very moment fluttering a few steps below in the care of the colored +maid, whose voice I could faintly hear; she, with his passion to meet +and quell, had this secret to maintain; hearing his wild entreaties with +one ear and listening for the possible outbursts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> of the +not-to-be-restrained child with the other; mad to go—to catch her train +before discovery overwhelmed her, yet not daring to hasten him, for his +mood was a man's mood and not to be denied. I felt sorry for her, and +cast about in my mind what aid to give the situation, when the passion +of his words seized me, and I forgot her position in the interest I +began to feel in his.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 382px;"> +<img src="images/ill_009.jpg" width="382" height="500" alt=""HUSH! THERE IS NO DOUBT ON THAT TOPIC; THE CHILD IS DEAD. LET THAT BE UNDERSTOOD BETWEEN US."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"HUSH! THERE IS NO DOUBT ON THAT TOPIC; THE CHILD IS DEAD. LET THAT BE UNDERSTOOD BETWEEN US."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Valerie, Valerie," he was saying, "this is cruelty. You go with no good +cause that I can see—put the sea between us, and yet say no word to +make the parting endurable. You understand what I suffer—my hateful +thoughts, my dread, which is not so much dread as—Oh, that I should say +it! Oh, that I should feel it!—hope; guilty, unpardonable hope. Yet you +refuse me the little word, the kindly look, which would alleviate the +oppression of my feelings and give me the thought of you to counteract +this eternal brooding upon Gwendolen and her possible fate. I want a +promise—conditional, O God! but yet a promise; and you simply bid me to +have patience; to wait—as if a man could wait who sees his love, his +life, his future trembling in the balance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> against the fate of a little +child. If you loved me—"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" The feeling in that word was not for him. I felt it at once; it +was for her secret, threatened every instant she lingered there by some +move, by some word which might escape a thoughtless child. "You do not +understand me, Justin. You talk with no comprehension of myself or of +the event. Six months from now, if all goes well, you will see that I +have been kind, not cruel. I can not say any more; I should not have +said so much. Go back, dear friend, and let me take the train with +Harry. The sea is not impassable. We shall meet again, and then—" Did +she pause to look behind her down those steps—to make some gesture of +caution to the uneasy child? "you will forgive me for what seems cruelty +to you now. I can not do differently. With all the world weeping over +the doubtful fate of this little child, you can not expect me to—to +make any promise conditional upon her <i>death</i>."</p> + +<p>The man's cry drove the irony of the situation out of my mind.</p> + +<p>"Puerilities! all puerilities. A man's life—soul—are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> worth some +sacrifices. If you loved me—" A quick ingathering of his breath, then a +low moan, then the irrepressible cry she vainly sought to hush, "O +Valerie, you are silent! You do not love me! Two years of suffering! two +years of repression, then this delirium of hope, of possibility, and you +<i>silent</i>! I will trouble you no more. Gwendolen alive or Gwendolen dead, +what is it to me! I—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! there is no doubt on that topic; the child is <i>dead</i>. Let that be +understood between us." This was whispered, and whispered very low, but +the air seemed breathless at that moment and I heard her. "This is my +last word to you. You will have your fortune, whether you have my love +or not. Remember that, and—"</p> + +<p>"Auntie, make Dinah move away; I want to see the man you are talking +to."</p> + +<p>Gwendolen had spoken.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + +<h3>A CORAL BEAD</h3> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>It was Mr. Rathbone who first found voice.</p> + +<p>"To what a state have I come when in every woman's face, even in hers +who is dearest, I see expressions I no longer understand, and in every +child's voice catch the sound of Gwendolen's?"</p> + +<p>"Harry's voice is not like Gwendolen's," came in desperate protest from +the ready widow. A daring assertion for her to make to him who had often +held this child in his arms for hours together. "You are not yourself, +Justin. I am sorry. I—I—" Almost she gave her promise, almost she +risked her future, possibly his, by saying, under the stress of her +fears, what her heart did not prompt her to, when—</p> + +<p>A quick move on her part, a low cry on his, and he came rushing up the +steps.</p> + +<p>I had advanced at her hesitating words and shown myself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Mr. Rathbone was well up the terrace (he hardly honored me with a +look as he went by), I slowly began my descent to where she stood with +her back toward me and her arms thrown round the child she had evidently +called to her in her anxiety to conceal the little beaming face from +this new intruder.</p> + +<p>That she had not looked as high as my face I felt assured; that she +would not show me hers unless I forced her to seemed equally certain. +Every step I took downward was consequently of moment to me. I wondered +how I should come out of this; what she would do; what I myself should +say. The bold course commended itself to me. No more circumlocution; no +more doubtful playing of the game with this woman. I would take the bull +by the horns and—</p> + +<p>I had reached the step on which she crouched. I could catch sight of the +child's eyes over her shoulder, a shoulder that quivered—was it with +the storm of the last interview, or with her fear of this? I would see.</p> + +<p>Pausing, I said to her with every appearance of respect, but in my most +matter-of-fact tones:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carew, may I request you to send Gwendolen down to the girl I see +below there? I have something to say to you before you leave."</p> + +<p><i>Gwendolen!</i></p> + +<p>With a start which showed how completely she was taken by surprise, Mrs. +Carew rose. She may have recognized my voice and she may not; it is hard +to decide in such an actress. Whether she did or not, she turned with a +frown, which gave way to a ravishing smile as her eyes met my face.</p> + +<p>"You?" she said, and without any betrayal in voice or gesture that she +recognized that her hopes, and those of the friend to whose safety she +had already sacrificed so much, had just received their death-blow, she +gave a quick order to the girl who, taking the child by the hand, sat +down on the steps Mrs. Carew now quitted and laid herself out to be +amusing.</p> + +<p>Gravely Mrs. Carew confronted me on the terrace below.</p> + +<p>"Explain," said she.</p> + +<p>"I have just come from Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I replied.</p> + +<p>The veiled head dropped a trifle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She could not sustain herself! So all is lost?"</p> + +<p>"That depends. But I must request you not to leave the country till Mr. +Ocumpaugh returns."</p> + +<p>The flash of her eye startled me. "Who can detain me," she cried, "if I +wish to go?"</p> + +<p>I did not answer in kind. I had no wish to rouse this woman's +opposition.</p> + +<p>"I do not think you will want to go when you remember Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +condition. Would you leave her to bear the full burden of this deception +alone? She is a broken woman. Her full story is known to me. I have the +profoundest sympathy for her. She has only three days in which to decide +upon her course. I have advised her to tell the whole truth to her +husband."</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>The word was but a breath, but I heard it. Yet I felt no resentment +against this woman. No one could, under the spell of so much spirit and +grace.</p> + +<p>"Did I not advise her right?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, but you must not detain <i>me</i>. You must do nothing to separate +me from this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> child. I will not bear it. I have experienced for days now +what motherhood might be, and nothing on earth shall rob me of my +present rights in this child." Then as she met my unmoved countenance: +"If you know Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole history, you know that neither she +nor her husband has any real claim on the child."</p> + +<p>"In that you are mistaken," I quickly protested. "Six years of care and +affection such as they have bestowed on Gwendolen, to say nothing of the +substantial form which these have taken from the first, constitute a +claim which all the world must recognize, if you do not. Think of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's belief in her relation to him! Think of the shock which +awaits him, when he learns that she is not of his blood and lineage!"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know." Her fingers worked nervously; the woman was showing +through the actress. "But I will not give up the child. Ask anything but +that."</p> + +<p>"Madam, I have had the honor so far to make but one requirement—that +you do not carry the child out of the country—yet."</p> + +<p>As I uttered this ultimatum, some influence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> acting equally upon both, +caused us to turn in the direction of the river; possibly an +apprehension lest some word of this conversation might be overheard by +the child or the nurse. A surprise awaited us which effectually +prevented Mrs. Carew's reply. In the corner of the Ocumpaugh grounds +stood a man staring with all his eyes at the so-called little Harry. An +expression of doubt was on his face. I knew the minute to be critical +and was determined to make the most of it.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that man?" I whispered to Mrs. Carew.</p> + +<p>The answer was brief but suggestive of alarm.</p> + +<p>"Yes, one of the gardeners over there—one of whom Gwendolen is +especially fond."</p> + +<p>"She's the one to fear, then. Engage his attention while I divert hers."</p> + +<p>All this in a whisper while the man was summoning up courage to speak.</p> + +<p>"A pretty child," he stammered, as Mrs. Carew advanced toward him +smiling. "Is that your little nephew I've heard them tell about? Seems +to me he looks like our own little lost one; only darker and sturdier."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Much sturdier," I heard her say as I made haste to accost the child.</p> + +<p>"Harry," I cried, recalling my old address when I was in training for a +gentleman; "your aunt is in a hurry. The cars are coming; don't you hear +the whistle? Will you trust yourself to me? Let me carry you—I mean +pick-a-back, while we run for the train."</p> + +<p>The sweet eyes looked up—it was fortunate for Mrs. Carew that no one +but myself had ever got near enough to see those eyes or she could +hardly have kept her secret—and at first slowly, then with instinctive +trust, the little arms rose and I caught her to my breast, taking care +as I did so to turn her quite away from the man whom Mrs. Carew was +about leaving.</p> + +<p>"Come!" I shouted back, "we shall be late!"—and made a dash for the +gate.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew joined me, and none of us said anything till we reached the +station platform. Then as I set the child down, I gave her one look. She +was beaming with gratitude.</p> + +<p>"That saved us, together with the few words I could edge in between his +loud regrets at my going and his exclamations of grief over Gwendolen's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +loss. On the train I shall fear nothing. If you will lift him up I will +wrap him in this shawl as if he were ill. Once in New York—are you not +going to permit me?"</p> + +<p>"To go to New York, yes; but not to the steamer."</p> + +<p>She showed anger, but also an admirable self-control. Far off we could +catch the sounding thrill of the approaching train.</p> + +<p>"I yield," she announced suddenly. And opening the bag at her side, she +fumbled in it for a card which she presently put in my hand. "I was +going there for lunch," she explained. "Now I will take a room and +remain until I hear from you." Here she gave me a quick look. "You do +not appear satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," I stammered, as I looked at the card and saw her name over +that of an inconspicuous hotel in the down-town portion of New York +City. "I merely—"</p> + +<p>The nearing of the train gave me the opportunity of cutting short the +sentence I should have found it difficult to finish.</p> + +<p>"Here is the child," I exclaimed, lifting the little one, whom she +immediately enveloped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> in the light but ample wrap she had chosen as a +disguise.</p> + +<p>"Good-by—Harry."</p> + +<p>"Good-by! I like you. Your arms are strong and you don't shake me when +you run."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carew smiled. There was deep emotion in her face. "<i>Au revoir!</i>" +she murmured in a tone implying promise. Happily I understood the French +phrase.</p> + +<p>I bowed and drew back. Was I wrong in letting her slip from my +surveillance? The agitation I probably showed must have caused her some +thought. But she would have been more than a diviner of mysteries to +have understood its cause. Her bag, when she had opened it before my +eyes, had revealed among its contents a string of remarkable corals. A +bead similar in shape, color and marking rested at that very moment over +my own heart. Was that necklace one bead short? With a start of +conviction I began to believe so and that I was the man who could +complete it. If that was so—why, then—then—</p> + +<p>It isn't often that a detective's brain reels—but mine did then.</p> + +<p>The train began to move<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>This discovery, the greatest of all, if I were right, would—</p> + +<p>I had no more time to think.</p> + +<p>Instinctively, with a quick jump, I made my place good on the rear car.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + +<h3>"SHALL I GIVE HIM MY WORD, HARRY?"</h3> + +<p>I did not go all the way to New York on the train which Mrs. Carew and +the child had taken. I went only as far as Yonkers.</p> + +<p>When I reached Doctor Pool's house, I thought it entirely empty. Even +the office seemed closed. But appearances here could not always be +trusted, and I rang the bell with a vigor which must have awakened +echoes in the uninhabited upper stories. I know that it brought the +doctor to the door, and in a state of doubtful amiability. But when he +saw who awaited him, his appearance changed and he welcomed me in with a +smile or what was as nearly like one as his austere nature would permit.</p> + +<p>"How now! Want your money? Seems to me you have earned it with +unexpected ease."</p> + +<p>"Not such great ease," I replied, as he carefully closed the door and +locked it. "I know that I feel as tired as I ever did in my life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> The +child is in New York under the guardianship of a woman who is really +fond of her. You can dismiss all care concerning her."</p> + +<p>"I see—and who is the woman? Name her."</p> + +<p>"You do not trust me, I see."</p> + +<p>"I trust no one in business matters."</p> + +<p>"This is not a business matter—yet."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I have not asked for money. I am not going to till I can perfectly +satisfy you that all deception is at an end so far as Mr. Ocumpaugh at +least is concerned."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you would play fair, I see."</p> + +<p>I was too interested in noting how each of his hands involuntarily +closed on itself, in his relief at not being called upon to part with +some of his hoardings, to answer with aught but a nod.</p> + +<p>"You have your reasons for keeping close, of course," he growled as he +led the way toward the basement stairs. "You're not out of the woods, is +that it? Or has the great lady bargained with you?—Um? Um?"</p> + +<p>He threw the latter ejaculations back over his shoulder as he descended +to the office. They displeased me, and I made no attempt to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> reply. In +fact, I had no reply ready. Had I bargained with Mrs. Ocumpaugh? Hardly. +Yet—</p> + +<p>"She is handsome enough," the old man broke in sharply, cutting in two +my self-communings. "You're a fellow of some stamina, if you have got at +her secret without making her a promise. So the child is well! That's +good! There's one long black mark eliminated from my account. But I have +not closed the book, and I am not going to, till my conscience has +nothing more to regret. It is not enough that the child is handed over +to a different life; the fortunes that have been bequeathed her must be +given to him who would have inherited them had this child not been taken +for a veritable Ocumpaugh."</p> + +<p>"That raises a nice point," I said.</p> + +<p>"But one that will drag all false things to light."</p> + +<p>"Your action in the matter along with the rest," I suggested.</p> + +<p>"True! but do you think I shall stop because of that?"</p> + +<p>He did not look as if he would stop because of anything.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you not think Mrs. Ocumpaugh worthy some pity? Her future is a +ghastly one, whichever way you look at it."</p> + +<p>"She sinned," was his uncompromising reply. "The wages of sin is death."</p> + +<p>"But such death!" I protested; "death of the heart, which is the worst +death of all."</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, leading the way into the office.</p> + +<p>"Let her beware!" he went on surlily. "Last month I saw my duty no +further than the exaction of this child's dismissal from the home whose +benefits she enjoyed under a false name. To-day I am led further by the +inexorable guide which prompts the anxious soul. All that was wrong must +be made good. Mr. Ocumpaugh must know on whom his affections have been +lavished. I will not yield. The woman has done wrong; and she shall +suffer for it till she rises, a redeemed soul, into a state of mind that +prefers humiliation to a continuance in a life of deception. You may +tell her what I say—that is, if you enjoy the right of conversation +with her."</p> + +<p>The look he shot me at this was keen as hate and spite could make it. I +was glad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> that we were by this time in the office, and that I could +avoid his eye by a quick look about the well-remembered place. This +proof of the vindictive pursuit he had marked out for himself was no +surprise to me. I expected no less, yet it opened up difficulties which +made my way, as well as hers, look dreary in the prospect. He perceived +my despondency and smiled; then suddenly changed his tone.</p> + +<p>"You do not ask after the little patient I have here. Come, Harry, come; +here is some one I will let you see."</p> + +<p>The door of my old room swung open and I do not know which surprised me +most, the kindness in the rugged old voice I had never before heard +lifted in tenderness, or the look of confidence and joy on the face of +the little boy who now came running in. So inexorable to a remorseful +and suffering woman, and so full of consideration for a stranger's +child!</p> + +<p>"Almost well," pronounced the doctor, and lifted him on his knee. "Do +you know this child's parentage and condition?" he sharply inquired, +with a quick look toward me.</p> + +<p>I saw no reason for not telling the truth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He is an orphan, and was destined for an institution."</p> + +<p>"You know this?"</p> + +<p>"Positively."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall keep the child. Harry, will you stay with me?"</p> + +<p>To my amazement, the little arms crept round his neck. A smile grim +enough, in my estimation, but not at all frightful to the child, +responded to this appeal.</p> + +<p>"I did not like the old man and woman," he said.</p> + +<p>Doctor Pool's whole manner showed triumph. "I shall treat him better +than I did you," he remarked. "I am a regenerate man now."</p> + +<p>I bowed; I was very uneasy; there was a question I wanted to ask and +could not in the presence of this child.</p> + +<p>"He is hardly of an age to take my place," I observed, still under the +spell of my surprise, for the child was handling the old man's long +beard, and seeming almost as happy as Gwendolen did in Mrs. Carew's +arms.</p> + +<p>"He will have one of his own," was the doctor's unexpected reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> + +<p>I rose. I saw that he did not intend to dismiss the child.</p> + +<p>"I should like your word, in return for the relief I have undoubtedly +brought you, that you will not molest certain parties till the three +days are up which I have mentioned as the limit of my own silence."</p> + +<p>"Shall I give him my word, Harry?"</p> + +<p>The child, startled by the abrupt address, drew his fingers from the +long beard he was playfully stroking and, eyeing me with elfish gravity, +seemed to ponder the question as if some comprehension of its importance +had found entrance into his small brain. Annoyed at the doctor's whim, +yet trusting to the child's intuition, I waited with inner anxiety for +what those small lips would say, and felt an infinite relief, even if I +did not show it, when he finally uttered a faint "Yes," and hid his face +again on the doctor's breast.</p> + +<p>My last remembrance of them both was the picture they made as the doctor +closed the door upon me, with the sweet, confiding child still clasped +in his arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> + +<h3>THE WORK OF AN INSTANT</h3> + +<p>I did not take the car at the corner. I was sure that Jupp was somewhere +around, and I had a new mission for him of more importance than any he +could find here now. I was just looking about for him when I heard cries +and screams at my back, and, turning, saw several persons all running +one way. As that way was the one by which I had just come, I commenced +running too, and in another moment was one of a crowd collected before +the doctor's door. I mean the great front door which, to my +astonishment, I had already seen was wide open. The sight which there +met my eyes almost paralyzed me.</p> + +<p>Stretched on the pavement, spotted with blood, lay the two figures I had +seen within the last five minutes beaming with life and energy. The old +man was dead, the child dying, one little hand outstretched as if in +search of the sympathetic touch which had made the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> last few hours +perhaps the sweetest of his life. How had it happened? Was it suicide on +the doctor's part or just pure accident? Either way it was horrible, +but—I looked about me; there was a man ready to give explanations. He +had seen it all. The doctor had been racing with the child in the long +hall. He had opened the door, probably for air. A sudden dash of the +child had brought him to the verge, the doctor had plunged to save him, +and losing his balance toppled headlong to the street, carrying the +child with him.</p> + +<p>It was all the work of an instant.</p> + +<p>One moment two vigorous figures—the next, a mass of crushed humanity!</p> + +<p>A sight to stagger a man's soul! But the thought which came with it +staggered me still more.</p> + +<p>The force which had been driving Mrs. Ocumpaugh to her fate was removed. +Henceforth her secret was safe if—if I chose to have it so.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> + +<h3>"HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE"</h3> + +<p>I was walking away when a man touched me. Some one had seen me come from +the doctor's office a few minutes before. Of course this meant detention +till the coroner should arrive. I quarreled with the circumstances but +felt forced to submit. Happily Jupp now came to the front and I was able +to send him to New York to keep that watch over Mrs. Carew, without +which I could not have rested quiet an hour. One great element of danger +was removed most remarkably, if not providentially, from the path I had +marked out for myself; but there still remained that of this woman's +possible impulses under her great determination to keep Gwendolen in her +own care. But with Jupp to watch the dock, and a man in plain clothes at +the door of the small hotel she was at present bound for, I thought I +might remain in Yonkers contentedly the whole day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not, however, till late the next afternoon that I found myself +again in Homewood. I had heard from Jupp. The steamer had sailed, but +without two passengers who had been booked for the voyage. Mrs. Carew +and the child were still at the address she had given me. All looked +well in that direction; but what was the aspect of affairs in Homewood? +I trembled in some anticipation of what these many hours of bitter +thought might have effected in Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Evidently nothing to +lessen the gloom into which the whole household had now fallen. Miss +Porter, who came in haste to greet me, wore the careworn look of a long +and unrelieved vigil. I was not astonished when she told me that she had +not slept a wink.</p> + +<p>"How could I," she asked, "when Mrs. Ocumpaugh did not close her eyes? +She did not even lie down, but sat all night in an arm-chair which she +had wheeled into Gwendolen's room, staring like one who sees nothing out +into the night through the window which overlooks the river. This +morning we can not make her speak. Her eyes are dry with fever; only now +and then she utters a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> moan. The doctor says she will not live to +see her husband, unless something comes to rouse her. But the papers +give no news, and all the attempts of the police end in nothing. You saw +what a dismal failure their last attempt was. The child on which they +counted proved to be both red-haired and pock-marked. Gwendolen appears +to be lost, lost."</p> + +<p>In spite of the despair thus expressed my way seemed to open a little.</p> + +<p>"I think I can break Mrs. Ocumpaugh's dangerous apathy if you will let +me see her again. Will you let me try?"</p> + +<p>"The nurse—we have a nurse now—will not consent, I fear."</p> + +<p>"Then telephone to the doctor. Tell him I am the only man who can do +anything for Mrs. Ocumpaugh. This will not be an exaggeration."</p> + +<p>"Wait! I will get his order. I do not know why I have so much confidence +in you."</p> + +<p>In another fifteen minutes she came to lead me to Mrs. Ocumpaugh.</p> + +<p>I entered without knocking; they told me to. She was seated, as they +said, in a large chair, but with no ease to herself; for she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> not +even leaning against its back, but sat with body strained forward and +eyes fixed on the ripple of the great river where, from what she had +intimated to me in our last interview, she probably saw her grave. There +was a miniature in her hand, but I saw at first glance that it was not +the face of Gwendolen over which her fingers closed so spasmodically. It +was her husband's portrait which she held, and it was his face, aroused +and full of denunciation, which she evidently saw in her fancy as I drew +nearer her in my efforts to attract her attention; for a shiver suddenly +contracted her lovely features and she threw her arms out as if to ward +from herself something which she had no power to meet. In doing this her +head turned slightly and she saw me.</p> + +<p>Instantly the spell under which she sat frozen yielded to a recognition +of something besides her own terrible brooding. She let her arms drop, +and the lips which had not spoken that morning moved slightly. I waited +respectfully. I saw that in another moment she would speak.</p> + +<p>"You have come," she panted out at last,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> "to hear my decision. It is +too soon. The steamer has twenty-four hours yet before it can make port. +I have not finished weighing my life against the good opinion of him I +live for." Then faintly—"Mrs. Carew has gone."</p> + +<p>"To New York," I finished.</p> + +<p>"No farther than that?" she asked anxiously. "She has not sailed?"</p> + +<p>"I did not see how it was compatible with my duty to let her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole form collapsed; the dangerous apathy was creeping +over her again. "You are deciding for me,"—she spoke very faintly—"you +and Doctor Pool."</p> + +<p>Should I tell her that Doctor Pool was dead? No, not yet. I wanted her +to choose the noble course for Mr. Ocumpaugh's sake—yes, and for her +own.</p> + +<p>"No," I ventured to rejoin. "You are the only one who can settle your +own fate. The word must come from you. I am only trying to make it +possible for you to meet your husband without any additional wrong to +blunt his possible forgiveness."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he will never forgive—and I have lost all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the set look returned in its full force.</p> + +<p>I made my final attempt.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, we may never have another moment together in +confidence. There is one thing I have never told you, something which I +think you ought to know, as it may affect your whole future course. It +concerns Gwendolen's real mother. You say you do not know her."</p> + +<p>"No, no; do not bring up that. I do not want to know her. My darling is +happy with Mrs. Carew—too happy. O God! Give me no opportunity for +disturbing that contentment. Don't you see that I am consumed with +jealousy? That I might—"</p> + +<p>She was roused enough now, cheek and lip and brow were red; even her +eyes looked blood-shot. Alarmed, I put out my hand in a soothing +gesture, and when her voice stopped and her words trailed off into an +inarticulate murmur I made haste to say:</p> + +<p>"Listen to my little story. It will not add to your pain, rather +alleviate it. When I hid behind the curtain on that day we all regret, I +did not slip from my post at your departure. I knew that another patient +awaited the doctor's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> convenience in my own small room, where he had +hastily seated her when your carriage drove up. I also knew that this +patient had overheard what you said as well as I, for impervious as the +door looked I had often heard the doctor's mutterings when he thought I +was safe beyond ear-shot, if not asleep. And I wanted to see how she +would act when she rejoined the doctor; for I had heard a little of what +she had said before, and was quite aware that she could help you out of +your difficulty if she wished. She was a married woman, or rather had +been, but she had no use for a child, being very poor and anxious to +earn her own living. Would she embrace this opportunity to part with it +when it came? You may imagine my interest, boy though I was."</p> + +<p>"And did she? Was she—"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She was ready to make her compact with the doctor just as you had +done. Before she left everything was arranged for. It was her child you +took—reared—loved—and have now lost."</p> + +<p>At another time she might have resented these words, especially the +last; but I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> roused her curiosity, her panting eager curiosity, and +she let them pass altogether unchallenged.</p> + +<p>"Did you see this woman? Was she of common blood, common manners? It +does not seem possible—Gwendolen is by nature so dainty in all her +ways."</p> + +<p>"The woman was a lady. I did not see her face, it was heavily veiled, +but I heard her voice; it was a lady's voice and—"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"She wore beautiful jewels."</p> + +<p>"Jewels? You said she was poor."</p> + +<p>"So she declared herself, but she had on her neck under her coat a +string of beads which were both valuable and of exquisite workmanship. I +know, because it broke just as she was leaving, and the beads fell all +over the floor, and one rolled my way and I picked it up, scamp that I +was, when both their backs were turned in their search for the others."</p> + +<p>"A bead—a costly bead—and you were not found out?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, she never seemed to miss it. She was too excited +over what she had just done to count correctly. She thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> she had +them all. But this has been in my pocket for six years. Perhaps you have +seen its like; I never have, in jeweler's shop or elsewhere, till +yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday?" Her great eyes, haggard with suffering, rose to mine, then +they fell on the bead which I had taken from my pocket. The cry she gave +was not loud, but it effectually settled all my doubts.</p> + +<p>"What did you know of Mrs. Carew before she came to ——?" I asked +impressively.</p> + +<p>For minutes she did not answer; she was trembling like a leaf.</p> + +<p>"Her mother!" she exclaimed at last. "Her mother! her own mother! And +she never hinted it to me by word or look. Oh, Valerie, Valerie, what +tortures we have both suffered! and now you are happy while I—"</p> + +<p>Grief seemed to engulf her. Feeling my position keenly, I walked to the +window, but soon turned and came back in response to her cry: "I must +see Mrs. Carew instantly. Give my orders. I will start at once to New +York. They will think I have gone to be on hand to meet Mr. Ocumpaugh, +and will say that I have not the strength. Override their objections.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> I +put my whole cause in your hands. You will go with me?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, madam."</p> + +<p>And thus was that terrifying apathy broken up, to be succeeded by a +spell of equally terrifying energy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> + +<h3>THE FINAL STRUGGLE</h3> + +<p>She, however, did not get off that night. I dared not push the matter to +the point of awakening suspicion, and when the doctor said that the ship +was not due for twenty hours and that it would be madness for her to +start without a night's rest and two or three good meals, I succumbed +and she also to the few hours' delay. More than that, she consented to +retire, and when I joined her in her carriage the following morning, it +was to find her physically stronger, even if the mind was still a prey +to deepest anguish and a torturing indecision. Her nurse accompanied us +and the maid called Celia, so conversation was impossible—a fact I did +not know whether to be thankful for or not. On the cars she was shielded +as much as possible from every one's gaze, and when we reached New York +we were driven at once to the Plaza. As I noticed the respect and +intense sympathy with which her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> presence was met by those who saw +nothing in her broken aspect but a mother's immeasurable grief, I +wondered at the secrets which lie deep down in the hearts of humanity, +and what the effect would be if I should suddenly shout aloud:</p> + +<p>"She is more wretched than you think. Her suspense is one that the +child's return would not appease. Dig deeper into mortal fear and woe if +you would know what has changed this beautiful woman into a shadow in +five days."</p> + +<p>And I myself did not know her mind. I could neither foresee what she +contemplated nor what the effect of seeing the child again would have +upon her. I only knew that she must never for a moment be out of sight +of some one who loved her. I myself never left the hall upon which her +room opened, a precaution for which I felt grateful when, late in the +evening, she opened the door and, seeing me, stepped out fully dressed +for the street.</p> + +<p>"Come and tell Sister Angelina that I may be trusted with you," she +said. Sister Angelina was the nurse.</p> + +<p>Of course I did as she bade me, and after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> some few more difficulties I +succeeded in getting her into a carriage without attracting any special +attention. Once there she breathed more easily, and so did I.</p> + +<p>"Now take me to <i>her</i>," she said. Whether she meant Mrs. Carew or +Gwendolen, I never knew.</p> + +<p>I now saw that the hour had come for telling her that she no longer need +have any fear of Doctor Pool. Whatever she contemplated must be done +with a true knowledge of where she stood and to just what extent her +secret remained endangered. I do not know if she felt grateful. I almost +think that for the first few minutes she felt rather frightened than +relieved to find herself free to act as her wishes and the preservation +of her place in her husband's heart and the world's regard impelled her. +For she never for a moment seemed to doubt that now the doctor was gone. +I would yield to her misery and prove myself the friend she had begged +me to be from the first. She turned herself toward me and sought to read +my face, but it was rather to find out what I expected of her than what +she had yet to fear from me. I noted this and muttered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> some words of +confidence; but her mood had already changed, and they fell on deaf +ears.</p> + +<p>I was not present at the meeting of the two women. That is, I remained +in what they would call a private parlor, while Mrs. Ocumpaugh passed +into the inner room, where she knew she would find Mrs. Carew and the +child. Nor did I hear much. Some words came through the partition. I +caught most of Mrs. Carew's explanation of how she came to give up her +new-born child. She was an actress at the time with a London success to +her credit, but with no hold as yet in this country. She was booked for +a tour the coming season; the husband who might have seen to the child +was dead; she had no friends, no relatives here save a brother poorer +than herself, and the mother instinct had not awakened. She bartered her +child away as she would have parted with any other encumbrance likely to +interfere with her career. But—here her voice rose and I heard +distinctly: "A fortune was suddenly left me. An old admirer dying abroad +bequeathed me two million dollars, and I found myself rich, admired and +independent, with no one on earth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> to care for or to share the happiness +of what seemed to me, after the brilliant life I had hitherto led, a +dreary inaction. Love had no interest for me. I had had a husband, and +that part of my nature had been satisfied. What I wanted now—and the +wish presently grew into a passion—was my child. From passion it grew +to mania. Knowing the name of her to whom I had yielded it (I had +overheard it in the doctor's office), I hunted up your residence and +came one day to Homewood.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps some old servant can be found there to-day who could tell you +of the strange, deeply veiled lady who was found one evening at sunset, +clinging to the gate with both hands and sobbing as she looked in at the +triumphant little heiress racing up and down the walks with the great +mastiff, Don. They will say that it was some poor crazy woman, or some +mother who had buried her own little darling; but it was I, Marion, it +was I, looking upon the child I had sold for a half-year's independence; +I who was broken-hearted now for her smiles and touches and saw them all +given to strangers, who had made her a princess, but who could never +give her such love as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> felt for her then in my madness. I went away +that time, but I came again soon with the titles of the adjoining +property in my pocket. I could not keep away from the sight of her, and +felt that the torture would be less to see her in your arms than not to +see her at all."</p> + +<p>The answer was not audible, but I could well imagine what it was. As +every one knew, the false mother had not long held out against the +attractions of the true one. Instinct had drawn the little one to the +heart that beat responsive to its own.</p> + +<p>What followed I could best judge from the frightened cry which the child +suddenly gave. She had evidently waked to find both women at her +bedside. Mrs. Carew's "Hush! hush!" did not answer this time; the child +was in a frenzy, and evidently turned from one to the other, sobbing out +alternately, "I will not be a girl again. I like my horse and going to +papa and sailing on the big ocean, in trousers and a little cap," and +the softer phrases she evidently felt better suited to Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +deep distress: "Don't feel bad, mamma, you shall come see me some time. +Papa will send for you. I am going to him." Then silence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> then such a +struggle of woman-heart with woman-heart as I hope never to be witness +to again. Mrs. Ocumpaugh was pleading with Mrs. Carew, not for the +child, but for her life. Mr. Ocumpaugh would be in port the next +morning; if she could show him the child all would be well. Mr. Trevitt +would manage the details; take the credit of having found Gwendolen +somewhere in this great city, and that would insure him the reward and +them his silence. (I heard this.) There was no one else to fear. Doctor +Pool, the cause of all this misery, was dead; and in the future, her +heart being set to rest about her secret, she would be happier and make +the child happier, and they could enjoy her between them, and she would +be unselfish and let Gwendolen spend an hour or more every day with Mrs. +Carew, on some such plea as lessons in vocal-training and music.</p> + +<p>Thus pleaded Mrs. Ocumpaugh.</p> + +<p>But the mother hardly listened. She had eaten with the child, slept with +the child and almost breathed with the child for three days now, and the +ecstasy of the experience had blinded her to any other claim than her +own.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> She pitied Mrs. Ocumpaugh, pitied most of all her deceived +husband, but no grief of theirs could equal that of Rachel crying for +her child. Let Mrs. Ocumpaugh remember that when the evil days come. She +had separated child from mother! child from mother! Oh, how the wail +swept through those two rooms!</p> + +<p>I dared not prophesy to myself at this point how this would end. I +simply waited.</p> + +<p>Their voices had sunk after each passionate outbreak, and I was only +able to catch now and then a word which told me that the struggle was +yet going on.</p> + +<p>But finally there came a lull, and while I wondered, the door flew +suddenly open and I saw Mrs. Ocumpaugh standing on the threshold, pallid +and stricken, looking back at the picture made by the other two as Mrs. +Carew, fallen on her knees by the bedside, held to her breast the +panting child.</p> + +<p>"I can not go against nature," said she. "Keep Gwendolen, and may God +have pity upon me and Philo."</p> + +<p>I stepped forward. Meeting my eye, she faltered this last word:</p> + +<p>"Your advice was good. To-morrow when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> I meet my husband I will tell him +who found the child and why that child is not at my side to greet him."</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>That night I had a vision. I saw a door—shut, ominous. Before that door +stood a woman, tall, pale, beautiful. She was there to enter, but to +what no mortal living could say. She saw nothing but loss and the +hollowness of a living death behind that closed door.</p> + +<p>But who knows? Angels spring up unknown on the darkest road, and +perhaps—</p> + +<p>Here the vision broke; the day and its possibilities lay before me.</p> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A LIST <i>of</i> IMPORTANT FICTION</h2> + +<h2>THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A ROMANCE OF AMERICAN CHIVALRY</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE LAW</h2> + +<h2>OF THE LAND</h2> + +<p class="center">Of Miss Lady, whom it involved in mystery, and of</p> + +<p class="center">John Eddring, gentleman of the South,</p> + +<p class="center">who read its deeper meaning</p> + +<h3>By EMERSON HOUGH, Author of The Mississippi Bubble</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Romantic, unhackneyed, imaginative, touched with humor, full of spirit +and dash.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Chicago Record Herald</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>So virile, so strong, so full of the rare qualities of beauty and truth.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York Press</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>A powerful novel, vividly presented. The action is rapid and dramatic, +and the romance holds the reader with irresistible force.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Detroit Tribune</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Pre-eminently superior to any literary creation of the day. Its +naturalness places it on the plane of immortality.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York American</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A THOROUGHBRED GIRL</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>ZELDA DAMERON</h2> + +<h3>By MEREDITH NICHOLSON</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of The Main Chance</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Zelda Dameron is in all ways a splendid and successful story. There is +about it a sweetness, a wholesomeness and a sturdiness that will commend +it to earnest, kindly and wholesome people.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Boston Transcript</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The whole story is thoroughly American. It is lively and breezy +throughout—a graphic description of a phase of life in the Middle West.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Toledo Blade</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>A love story of a peculiarly sweet and attractive sort,—the +interpretation of a girl's life, the revelation of a human heart.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New Orleans Picayune</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">With portraits of the characters in color</p> + +<p class="center">By John Cecil Clay</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Indianapolis</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>LOVE IN LIVERY</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE MAN</h2> + +<h2>ON THE BOX</h2> + +<h3>By HAROLD M<span class="smcap">ac</span>GRATH</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of The Puppet Crown and The Grey Cloak</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>This is the brightest, most sparkling book of the season, crisp as a new +greenback, telling a most absorbing story in the most delightful way. +There never was a book which held the reader more fascinated.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Albany Times-Union</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The best novel of the year.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Seattle Post-Intelligencer</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Satire that stops short of caricature, humor that never descends to +burlesque, sentiment that is too wholesome and genuine to verge upon +sentimentality, these are reasons enough for liking The Man on the Box, +quite aside from the fact that it is a refreshing novelty in fiction.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York Globe</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by Harrison Fisher</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>HEARTS, GOLD AND SPECULATION</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>BLACK FRIDAY</h2> + +<h3>By FREDERIC S. ISHAM</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of The Strollers and Under the Rose</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>There is much energy, much spirit, in this romance of the gold corner. +Distinctly an opulent and animated tale.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York Sun</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Black Friday fascinates by its compelling force and grips by its human +intensity. No better or more absorbing novel has been published in a +decade.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Newark Advertiser</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The love story is handled with infinite skill. The pictures of "the +street" and its thrilling, pulsating life are given with rare power.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Boston Herald</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by Harrison Fisher</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>WANTED:</h2> + +<h2>A COOK</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> ALAN DALE</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>An uproariously funny comedy-novel of a self-conscious couple in contact +with the servant question. Their ludicrous predicaments with their cooks +are described with a light, farcical quality and a satire that never +fail to entertain.</p> + +<p>"A good story well told. In every sentence a hearty laugh and many an +irrepressible chuckle of mirth."</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York American</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Bound in decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>FULL OF DAINTY CHARM</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE GIRL AND</h2> + +<h2>THE KAISER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> PAULINE BRADFORD MACKIE</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>"An amusing love story, which is certain to win instant favor. Fresh, +enthusiastic, and daintily lyrical."</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Philadelphia Item</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"A charming little book, artistically made, is 'The Girl and the +Kaiser'; one that can be recommended for pleasing entertainment without +reserve."</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>St. Louis Globe-Democrat</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Here is a beautiful and delightfully seasonable volume that everybody +will want. The story is a bubbling romance of the German imperial court +with an American girl heroine.</p> + +<p class="center">Decorated and illustrated in color by</p> + +<p class="center">John Cecil Clay</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A STORY OF THE SIMPLE LIFE</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>HAPPY AVERAGE</h2> + +<h3>By BRAND WHITLOCK</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of The 13th District and Her Infinite Variety</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Mr. Whitlock has done more than simply repeat his earlier success. He +has achieved a new one. In The Happy Average he has voiced a deep-seated +human sympathy for the unheroic.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Life</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>A most delightful romance that is as fresh as the flowers of May.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Pittsburg Leader</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>As an example of a good, healthy, entertaining and human story, The +Happy Average must be given a place in the front rank.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Nashville American</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Not only the best book that has come from Mr. Whitlock's pen, but a +really noteworthy achievement in fiction.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Chicago Tribune</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE LIFE AND LOVES OF LORD BYRON</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>CASTAWAY</h2> + +<p class="center">"Three great men ruined in one year—a king, a cad and a +castaway."—<i>Byron</i>.</p> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> HALLIE ERMINIE RIVES</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of Hearts Courageous</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Lord Byron's personal beauty, his brilliancy, his genius, his possession +of a title, his love affairs, his death in a noble cause, all make him +the most magnetic figure in English literature. In Miss Rives's novel +the incidents of his career stand out in absorbing power and enthralling +force.</p> + +<p>The most profoundly sympathetic, vivid and true portrait of Byron ever +drawn.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 40em;">Calvin Dill Wilson, author of <i>Byron—Man and Poet</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Dramatic scenes, thrilling incidents, strenuous events follow one +another; pathos, revenge and passion; a strong love; and through all +these, under all these, is the poet, the man, George Gordon.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Grand Rapids Herald</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">With eight illustrations in color by</p> + +<p class="center">Howard Chandler Christy</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.00 everywhere</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A BOOK TO MAKE THE SPHINX LAUGH</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>IN THE BISHOP'S</h2> + +<h2>CARRIAGE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> MIRIAM MICHELSON</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>From the moment when, in another girl's chinchilla coat, Nance Olden +jumps into the unknown carriage, and, snuggling up to the solemn owner, +calls him "Daddy," till she makes her final bow, a happy wife and a +triumphant actress, she holds your fancy captive and your heart in +thrall.</p> + +<p>If jaded novel readers want a new sensation, they will get it here.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Chicago Tribune</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>For genuine, unaffected enjoyment, read the adventures of this dashing +desperado in petticoats.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Philadelphia Item</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>It is beguiling, bewitching, bristling with originality; light enough +for the laziest invalid to rest his brain over, profound enough to serve +as a sermon to the humanitarian.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>San Francisco Bulletin</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by Harrison Fisher</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A ROMANCE OF THE DOLLAR MARK</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE COST</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIPS</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of Golden Fleece</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>A masterly novel, interesting to the point of fascination, analytic to +the point of keenness, thoroughly well written with complete +understanding, and entirely committed to advocacy of the best things in +life.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;">Wallace Rice in <i>Chicago Examiner</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Rapid and vivid, sure and keen, light and graceful.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York Times</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>It is a story full of virile impulse. It treats of men of hardy +endeavor, battling for leadership in the world of commerce and politics. +If you want a novel that is intensely modern and intensely full of speed +and spirit, you have it in The Cost.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;">Bailey Millard in <i>San Francisco Examiner</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">With sixteen illustrations by Harrison Fisher</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>LOVE, POLITICS AND PELF</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>GRAFTERS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> FRANCIS LYNDE</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of The Master of Appleby</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>One of the best examples of a new and distinctly American class of +fiction—the kind which finds romance and even sensational excitement in +business, politics, finance and law.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>The Outlook</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Its sweeping sentences fire the blood like new wine.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Boston Post</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Telephone, telegraph, locomotive, skirl, click, thunder through the +pages in a way unprecedented in fiction. It is an amazingly modern book.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>New York Times</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Virile, with the rugged strength of the West, The Grafters is like the +current of a deep river, vigorous and forceful.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Louisville Courier-Journal</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A GOOD DETECTIVE STORY</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>FILIGREE BALL</h2> + +<h3>By ANNA KATHERINE GREEN</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of "The Leavenworth Case"</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>This is something more than a mere detective story; it is a thrilling +romance—a romance of mystery and crime where a shrewd detective helps +to solve the mystery. The plot is a novel and intricate one, carefully +worked out. There are constant accessions to the main mystery, so that +the reader can not possibly imagine the conclusion. The story is +clean-cut and wholesome, with a quality that might be called manly. The +characters are depicted so as to make a living impression. Cora Tuttle +is a fine creation, and the flash of love which she gives the hero is +wonderfully well done. Unlike many mystery stories The Filigree Ball is +not disappointing at the end. The characters most liked but longest +suspected are proved not only guiltless, but above suspicion. It is a +story to be read with a rush and at a sitting, for no one can put it +down until the mystery is solved.</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by C. M. Relyea</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>AN ANGEL OF THE TEXAS PLAINS</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>HULDAH</h2> + +<p class="center">Proprietor of the Wagon-Tire House and Genial</p> + +<p class="center">Philosopher of the Cattle Country</p> + +<h3>By ALICE M<span class="smcap">ac</span>GOWAN</h3> + +<h4>and</h4> + +<h3>GRACE M<span class="smcap">ac</span>GOWAN COOKE</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>A book that will brighten your hope, broaden your charity, and keep you +mellow with its humor.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Minneapolis Journal</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>It is cram full of human nature. There is nobody like Aunt Huldah in any +other book, and it is a good thing that she got into this one.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Washington Times</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The book with its western breezes, homely philosophy, queer characters +and big hearts, is almost as exhilarating as the heroine must have been +herself.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Baltimore Herald</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Aunt Huldah is the kind of a woman loved by the whole world, and the +novel is the most attractive since the days of David Harum.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Indianapolis Star</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">For the man who can rejoice at a book that is not trivial;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">For the man who feels the power of Egypt's marvelous past;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">For the man who is stirred at heart by the great scenes of the Bible;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">For the man who likes a story and knows when it is good.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>THE YOKE</h2> + +<p class="center">A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed</p> + +<p class="center">the Children of Israel from the</p> + +<p class="center">Bondage of Egypt</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>A theme that captures the imagination: Israel's deliverance from Egypt.</p> + +<p>Characters famous for all time: Moses, the Pharaoh, Prince Rameses.</p> + +<p>Scenes of natural and supernatural power; the finding of the signet, the +turning of the Nile into blood, the passage of the Red Sea.</p> + +<p>A background of brilliant color: the rich and varied life of Thebes and +Memphis.</p> + +<p>A plot of intricate interest: a love story of enduring beauty. Such is +"The Yoke."</p> + +<p class="center">Ornamental cloth binding. 626 pages</p> + +<p class="center">Price $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>ART AND ARIZONA</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>A GINGHAM</h2> + +<h2>ROSE</h2> + +<h3>By ALICE WOODS ULLMAN</h3> + +<p class="center">Author of Edges</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The author has a strange power of looking into the workings of her own +mind and heart, and of setting down what she finds there with freedom, +humor and justice. The result is "something new under the sun"—a book +with the tang of originality. Nothing could be more refreshing than this +story of a girl who turned a cad into a man and a man into a hero.</p> + +<p>Bizarre, fantastic, intensely individual, bright and interesting, with +characters that have a trick of saying and doing unexpected things.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Washington Times</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>A remarkable book, sustained in power and interest, strong in its +characterization and picturesque in its treatment of life. It is human, +palpitating with reality, tensely alive.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 45em;"><i>Harper's Weekly</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Frontispiece by the author</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, price, $1.50</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>HER INFINITE VARIETY IS THE SPICE</h3> + +<h3>OF LIFE</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h2>HER</h2> + +<h2>INFINITE VARIETY</h2> + +<h3>By BRAND WHITLOCK</h3> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Not a little of the attractiveness of Her Infinite Variety by Brand +Whitlock lies in its markedly handsome appearance. Howard Chandler +Christy's illustrations are among the best he has drawn, and are, +happily, quite numerous.—<i>Philadelphia Record.</i></p> + +<p>Her Infinite Variety represents Mr. Brand Whitlock, the author, in +holiday mood. It is from first to last a clever little comedy, full of +delicious and unexpected satire, the whole thing handled with a blythe +spirit of irony.—<i>New York Globe.</i></p> + +<p>The qualities which make up a good story are mingled in the most +alluring proportions in Her Infinite Variety, by Brand Whitlock. Its +humor is keen, sparkling and spontaneous.—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>Her Infinite Variety, by Brand Whitlock, is a delight to the eye, a +well-spring of mental recreation.—<i>Philadelphia North American.</i></p> + +<p class="center">With 12 full-page illustrations</p> + +<p class="center">in photogravure by</p> + +<p class="center">Howard Chandler Christy</p> + +<p class="center">12mo. Price $1.50</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h4>The Bobbs-Merrill Company, <i>Indianapolis</i></h4> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE BABY***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 38347-h.txt or 38347-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/3/4/38347">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/3/4/38347</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_001.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..143e510 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_001.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_002.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d98541a --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_002.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_003.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..066eacf --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_003.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_004.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..09305cd --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_004.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_005.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fcdc9e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_005.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_006.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c2b84c --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_006.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_007.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1bcf755 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_007.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_008.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d93778 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_008.jpg diff --git a/38347-h/images/ill_009.jpg b/38347-h/images/ill_009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38c522c --- /dev/null +++ b/38347-h/images/ill_009.jpg diff --git a/38347.txt b/38347.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23bb4f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38347.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8689 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Millionaire Baby, by Anna Katharine +Green, Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Millionaire Baby + + +Author: Anna Katharine Green + + + +Release Date: December 19, 2011 [eBook #38347] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE BABY*** + + +E-text prepared by Annie R. McGuire from page images generously made +available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 38347-h.htm or 38347-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38347/38347-h/38347-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38347/38347-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + http://www.archive.org/details/millionairebaby00gree + + + + + +THE MILLIONAIRE BABY + +[Illustration: "I HAVE SAID SO MUCH THAT I MUST SAY MORE. LISTEN AND BE +MY FRIEND." _p. 288_] + + +THE MILLIONAIRE BABY + +by + +ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + +Author of The Filigree Ball, +The Leavenworth Case, Etc. + +With Illustrations by Arthur I. Keller + + + + + + + +Indianapolis +The Bobbs-Merrill Company +Publishers + +Copyright 1905 +The Bobbs-Merrill Company + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I Two Little Shoes 1 + II "A Fearsome Man" 30 + III A Charming Woman 39 + IV Chalk-Marks 52 + V The Old House in Yonkers 69 + VI Doctor Pool 80 + VII "Find the Child!" 98 + VIII "Philo! Philo! Philo!" 109 + IX The Bungalow 122 + X Temptation 132 + XI The Secret of the Old Pavilion 140 + XII Behind the Wall 176 + XIII "We Shall Have to Begin Again" 196 + XIV Espionage 201 + XV A Phantasm 207 + XVI "An All-Conquering Beauty" 211 + XVII In the Green Boudoir 232 + XVIII "You Look As If--As If--" 249 + XIX Frenzy 263 + XX "What Do You Know?" 274 + XXI Providence 289 + XXII On the Second Terrace 315 + XXIII A Coral Bead 321 + XXIV "Shall I Give Him My Word, Harry?" 331 + XXV The Work of an Instant 338 + XXVI "He Will Never Forgive" 340 + XXVII The Final Struggle 350 + + + + +THE MILLIONAIRE BABY + + + + +I + +TWO LITTLE SHOES + + +The morning of August eighteenth, 190-, was a memorable one to me. For +two months I had had a run of bad luck. During that time I had failed to +score in at least three affairs of unusual importance, and the result +was a decided loss in repute as well as great financial embarrassment. +As I had a mother and two sisters to support and knew but one way to do +it, I was in a state of profound discouragement. This was before I took +up the morning papers. After I had opened and read them, not a man in +New York could boast of higher hopes or greater confidence in his power +to rise by one bold stroke from threatened bankruptcy to immediate +independence. + +The paragraph which had occasioned this amazing change must have passed +under the eyes of many of you. It created a wide-spread excitement at +the time and raised in more than one breast the hope of speedy fortune. +It was attached to, or rather introduced, the most startling feature of +the week, and it ran thus: + +A FORTUNE FOR A CHILD. + +_By cable from Southampton._ + + A reward of five thousand dollars is offered, by Philo Ocumpaugh, + to whoever will give such information as will lead to the recovery, + alive or dead, of his six-year-old daughter, Gwendolen, missing + since the afternoon of August the 16th, from her home in + ----on-the-Hudson, New York, U. S. A. + + Fifty thousand dollars additional and no questions asked if she is + restored unharmed within the week to her mother at Homewood. + + All communications to be addressed to Samuel Atwater, + ----on-the-Hudson. + +A minute description of the child followed, but this did not interest +me, and I did not linger over it. The child was no stranger to me. I +knew her well and consequently was quite aware of her personal +characteristics. It was the great amount offered for her discovery and +restoration which moved me so deeply. Fifty thousand dollars! A fortune +for any man. More than a fortune to me, who stood in such need of ready +money. I was determined to win this extraordinary sum. I had my reason +for hope and, in the light of this unexpectedly munificent reward, +decided to waive all the considerations which had hitherto prevented me +from stirring in the matter. + +There were other reasons less selfish which gave impetus to my resolve. +I had done business for the Ocumpaughs before and been well treated in +the transaction. I recognized and understood both Mr. Ocumpaugh's +peculiarities and those of his admired and devoted wife. As man and +woman they were kindly, honorable and devoted to many more interests +than those connected with their own wealth. I also knew their hearts to +be wrapped up in this child,--the sole offspring of a long and happy +union, and the actual as well as prospective inheritor of more millions +than I shall ever see thousands, unless I am fortunate enough to solve +the mystery now exercising the sympathies of the whole New York public. + +You have all heard of this child under another name. From her birth she +has been known as the Millionaire Baby, being the direct heir to three +fortunes, two of which she had already received. I saw her first when +she was three years old--a cherubic little being, lovely to look upon +and possessing unusual qualities for so young a child. Indeed, her +picturesque beauty and appealing ways would have attracted all eyes and +won all hearts, even if she had not represented in her small person the +wealth both of the Ocumpaugh and Rathbone families. There was an +individuality about her, combined with sensibilities of no ordinary +nature, which, fully accounted for the devoted affection with which she +was universally regarded; and when she suddenly disappeared, it was easy +to comprehend, if one did not share, the thrill of horror which swept +from one end of our broad continent to the other. Those who knew the +parents, and those who did not, suffered an equal pang at the awful +thought of this petted innocent lost in the depths of the great unknown, +with only the false caresses of her abductors to comfort her for the +deprivation of all those delights which love and unlimited means could +provide to make a child of her years supremely happy. + +Her father--and this was what gave the keen edge of horror to the whole +occurrence--was in Europe when she disappeared. He had been cabled at +once and his answer was the proffered reward with which I have opened +this history. An accompanying despatch to his distracted wife announced +his relinquishment of the project which had taken him abroad and his +immediate return on the next steamer sailing from Southampton. As this +chanced to be the fastest on the line, we had reason to expect him in +six days; meanwhile-- + +But to complete my personal recapitulations. When the first news of this +startling abduction flashed upon my eyes from the bulletin boards, I +looked on the matter as one of too great magnitude to be dealt with by +any but the metropolitan police; but as time passed and further details +of the strange and seemingly inexplicable affair came to light, I began +to feel the stirring of the detective instinct within me (did I say that +I was connected with a private detective agency of some note in the +metropolis?) and a desire, quite apart from any mere humane interest in +the event itself, to locate the intelligence back of such a desperate +crime: an intelligence so keen that, up to the present moment, if we may +trust the published accounts of the affair, not a clue had been +unearthed by which its author could be traced, or the means employed for +carrying off this petted object of a thousand cares. + +To be sure, there was a theory which eliminated all crime from the +occurrence as well as the intervention of any one in the child's fate: +she might have strayed down to the river and been drowned. But the +probabilities were so opposed to this supposition, that the police had +refused to embrace it, although the mother had accepted it from the +first, and up to the present moment, or so it was stated, had refused to +consider any other. As she had some basis for this conclusion--I am +still quoting the papers, you understand--I was not disposed to ignore +it in the study I proceeded to make of the situation. The details, as I +ran them over in the hurried trip I now made up the river to ----, were +as follows: + +On the afternoon of Wednesday, August sixteenth, 190-, the guests +assembled in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's white and gold music-room were suddenly +thrown into confusion by the appearance among them of a young girl in a +state of great perturbation, who, running up to the startled hostess, +announced that Gwendolen, the petted darling of the house, was missing +from the bungalow where she had been lying asleep, and could not be +found, though a dozen men had been out on search. + +The wretched mother, who, as it afterward transpired, had not only given +the orders by which the child had been thus removed from the excitement +up at the house, but had actually been herself but a few moments before +to see that the little one was well cared for and happy, seemed struck +as by a mortal blow at these words and, uttering a heart-rending scream, +ran out on the lawn. A crowd of guests rushed after her, and as they +followed her flying figure across the lawn to the small copse in which +lay hidden this favored retreat, they could hear, borne back on the +wind, the wild protests of the young nurse, that she had left the child +for a minute only and then to go no farther than the bench running along +the end of the bungalow facing the house; that she had been told she +could sit there and listen to the music, but that she never would have +left the child's side for a minute if she had not supposed she would +hear her least stir--protests which the mother scarcely seemed to heed, +and which were presently lost in the deep silence which fell on all, as, +brought to a stand in the thick shrubbery surrounding the bungalow, they +saw the mother stagger up to the door, look in and turn toward them with +death in her face. + +"The river!" she gasped, "the river!" and heedless of all attempt to +stop her, heedless even of the efforts made by the little one's nurse to +draw her attention to the nearness of a certain opening in the high +hedge marking off the Ocumpaugh grounds on this side, she ran down the +bank in the direction of the railway, but fainted before she had more +than cleared the thicket. When they lifted her up, they all saw the +reason for this. She had come upon a little shoe which she held with +frantic clutch against her breast--her child's shoe, which, as she +afterward acknowledged, she had loosened with her own hand on the little +one's foot. + +Of course, after this the whole hillside was searched down to the fence +which separated it from the railroad track. But no further trace of the +missing child was found, nor did it appear possible to any one that she +could have strayed away in this direction. For not only was the bank +exceedingly steep and the fence at its base impassable, but a gang of +men, working as good fortune would have it, at such a point on the road +below as to render it next to impossible for her to have crossed the +track within a half-mile either way without being observed, had one and +all declared that not one of them had seen her or any other person +descend the slope. + +This, however, made but little impression on the mother. She would +listen to no hints of abduction, but persisted in her declaration that +the river had swallowed her darling, and would neither rest nor turn her +head from its waters till some half a dozen men about the place had been +set systematically to work to drag the stream. + +Meanwhile, the police had been notified and the whole town aroused. The +search, which had been carried on up to this time in a frantic but +desultory way, now became methodical. Nor was it confined to the +Ocumpaugh estate. All the roads and byways within half a mile either way +were covered by a most careful investigation. All the near-by houses +were entered, especially those which the child was most in the habit of +frequenting, but no one had seen her, nor could any trace of her +presence be found. At five o'clock all hope of her return was abandoned +and, much against Mrs. Ocumpaugh's wish, who declared that the news of +the child's death would affect her father far less than the dreadful +possibilities of an abduction, the exact facts of the case had been +cabled to Mr. Ocumpaugh. + +The night and another day passed, bringing but little relief to the +situation. Not an eye had as yet been closed in Homewood, nor had the +search ceased for an instant. Not an inch of the great estate had been +overlooked, yet men could still be seen beating the bushes and peering +into all the secluded spots which once had formed the charm of this +delightful place. As on the land, so on the river. All the waters in the +dock had been dragged, yet the work went on, some said under the very +eye of Mrs. Ocumpaugh. But there was no result as yet. + +In the city the interest was intense. The telegraph at police +headquarters had been clicking incessantly for thirty-six hours under +the direction, some said, of the superintendent himself. Everything +which could be done had been done, but as yet the papers were able to +report nothing beyond some vague stories of a child, with its face very +much bound up, having been seen at the heels of a woman in the Grand +Central Station in New York, and hints of a covered wagon, with a crying +child inside, which had been driven through Westchester County at a +great pace shortly before sunset on the previous day, closely followed +by a buggy with the storm-apron up, though the sun shone and there was +not a cloud in the sky; but nothing definite, nothing which could give +hope to the distracted mother or do more than divide the attention of +the police between two different but equally tenable theories. Then came +the cablegram from Mr. Ocumpaugh, which threw amateur as well as +professional detectives into the field. Among the latter was myself; +which naturally brings me back once more to my own conclusions. + +Of one thing I felt sure. Very early in my cogitations, before we had +quitted the Park Avenue tunnel in fact, I had decided in my own mind +that if I were to succeed in locating the lost heiress, it must be by +subtler methods than lay open to the police. I was master of such +methods (in this case at least), and though one of many owning to +similar hopes on this very train which was rushing me through to +Homewood, I had no feeling but that of confidence in a final success. +How well founded this confidence was, will presently appear. + +The number of seedy-looking men with a mysterious air who alighted in my +company at ---- station and immediately proceeded to make their way up +the steep street toward Homewood, warned me that it would soon be +extremely difficult for any one to obtain access to the parties most +interested in the child's loss. Had I not possessed the advantage of +being already known to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I should have immediately given +up all hope of ever obtaining access to her presence; and even with this +fact to back me, I approached the house with very little confidence in +my ability to win my way through the high iron gates I had so +frequently passed before without difficulty. + +And indeed I found them well guarded. As I came nearer, I could see man +after man being turned away, and not till my card had been handed in, +and a hurried note to boot, did I obtain permission to pass the first +boundary. Another note secured me admission to the house, but there my +progress stopped. Mrs. Ocumpaugh had already been interviewed by five +reporters and a special agent from the New York police. She could see no +one else at present. If, however, my business was of importance, an +opportunity would be given me to see Miss Porter. Miss Porter was her +companion and female factotum. + +As I had calculated upon having a half-dozen words with the mother +herself, I was greatly thrown out by this; but going upon the principle +that "half a loaf was better than no bread," I was about to express a +desire to see Miss Porter, when an incident occurred which effectually +changed my mind in this regard. + +The hall in which I was standing and which communicated with the side +door by which I had entered, ended in a staircase, leading, as I had +reason to believe, to the smaller and less pretentious rooms in the rear +of the house. While I hesitated what reply to give the girl awaiting my +decision, I caught the sound of soft weeping from the top of this +staircase, and presently beheld the figure of a young woman coming +slowly down, clad in coat and hat and giving every evidence both in +dress and manner of leaving for good. It was Miss Graham, a young woman +who held the position of nursery-governess to the child. I had seen her +before, and had no small admiration for her, and the sensations I +experienced at the sight of her leaving the house where her services +were apparently no longer needed, proved to me, possibly for the first +time, that I had more heart in my breast than I had ever before +realized. But it was not this which led me to say to the maid standing +before me that I preferred to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself, and would call +early the next day. It was the thought that this sorrowing girl would +have to pass the gauntlet of many prying eyes on her way to the station +and that she might be glad of an escort whom she knew and had shown some +trust in. Also,--but the reasons behind that _also_ will soon become +sufficiently apparent. + +I was right in supposing that my presence on the porch outside would be +a pleasing surprise to her. Though her tears continued to flow she +accepted my proffered companionship with gratitude, and soon we were +passing side by side across the lawn toward a short cut leading down the +bank to the small flag-station used by the family and by certain favored +neighbors. As we threaded the shrubbery, which is very thick about the +place, she explained to me the cause of her abrupt departure. The sight +of her, it seems, had become insupportable to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Though no +blame could be rightfully attached to her, it was certainly true that +the child had been carried off while in her charge, and however hard it +might be for _her_, few could blame the mother for wishing her removed +from the house desolated by her lack of vigilance. But she was a good +girl and felt the humiliation of her departure almost in the light of a +disgrace. + +As we came again into an open portion of the lawn, she stopped short and +looked back. + +"Oh!" she cried, gripping me by the arm, "there is Mrs. Ocumpaugh still +at the window. All night she has stood there, except when she flew down +to the river at the sound of some imaginary call from the boats. She +believes, she really believes, that they will yet come upon Gwendolen's +body in the dock there." + +Following the direction of her glance, I looked up. Was that Mrs. +Ocumpaugh--that haggard, intent figure with eyes fixed in awful +expectancy on the sinister group I could picture to myself down at the +water's edge? Never could I have imagined such a look on features I had +always considered as cold as they were undeniably beautiful. As I took +in the misery it expressed, that awful waiting for an event momently +anticipated, and momently postponed, I found myself, without reason and +simply in response to the force of her expression, unconsciously sharing +her expectation, and with a momentary forgetfulness of all the +probabilities, was about to turn toward the spot upon which her glances +were fixed, when a touch on my arm recalled me to myself. + +"Come!" whispered my trembling companion. "She may look down and see us +here." + +I yielded to her persuasion and turned away into the cluster of trees +that lay between us and that opening in the hedge through which our +course lay. Had I been alone I should not have budged till I had seen +some change--any change--in the face whose appearance had so deeply +affected me. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh certainly believes that the body of her child lies in +the water," I remarked, as we took our way onward as rapidly as +possible. "Do you know her reasons for this?" + +"She says, and I think she is right so far, that the child has been bent +for a long time on fishing; that she has heard her father talk +repeatedly of his great luck in Canada last year and wished to try the +sport for herself; that she has been forbidden to go to the river, but +must have taken the first opportunity when no eye was on her to do so; +and--and--Mrs. Ocumpaugh shows a bit of string which she found last +night in the bushes alongside the tracks when she ran down, as I have +said, at some imaginary shout from the boats--a string which she +declares she saw rolled up in Gwendolen's hand when she went into the +bungalow to look at her. Of course, it may not be the same, but Mrs. +Ocumpaugh thinks it is, and--" + +"Do you think it possible, after all, that the child did stray down to +the water?" + +"No," was the vehement disclaimer. "Gwendolen's feet were excessively +tender. She could not have taken three steps in only one shoe. I should +have heard her cry out." + +"What if she went in some one's arms?" + +"A stranger's? She had a decided instinct against strangers. Never could +any one she did not know and like have carried her so far as that +without her waking. Then those men on the track,--they would have seen +her. No, Mr. Trevitt, it was not in _that_ direction she went." + +The force of her emphasis convinced me that she had an opinion of her +own in regard to this matter. Was it one she was ready to impart? + +"In what direction, then?" I asked, with a gentleness I hoped would +prove effective. + +Her impulse was toward a frank reply. I saw her lips part and her eyes +take on the look which precedes a direct avowal, but, as chance would +have it, we came at that moment upon the thicket inclosing the bungalow, +and the sight of its picturesque walls, showing brown through the +verdure of the surrounding shrubbery, seemed to act as a check upon her, +for, with a quick look and a certain dry accent quite new in her speech, +she suddenly inquired if I did not want to see the place from which +Gwendolen had disappeared. + +Naturally I answered in the affirmative and followed her as she turned +aside into the circular path which embraces this hidden retreat; but I +had rather have heard her answer to my question, than to have gone +anywhere or seen anything at that moment. Yet, when in full view of the +bungalow's open door, she stopped to point out to me the nearness of the +place to that opening in the hedge we had just been making for, and when +she even went so far as to indicate the tangled little path by which +that opening could be reached directly from the farther end of the +bungalow, I considered that my question had been answered, though in +another way than I anticipated, even before I noted the slight flush +which rose to her cheek under my earnest scrutiny. + +As it is important for the exact location of the bungalow to be +understood, I subjoin a diagram of this part of the grounds: + +[Illustration: LAWN EXTENDING TO THE HIGHWAY. + +A The Ocumpaugh mansion. B The Bungalow. C Mrs. Carew's house. D Private +path. E Gap in hedge leading to the Ocumpaugh grounds. F Gap leading +into Mrs. Carew's grounds. G Bench at end of bungalow.] + +As I took this all in, I ventured to ask some particulars of the family +living so near the Ocumpaughs. + +"Who occupies that house?" I asked, pointing to the sloping roofs and +ornamental chimneys arising just beyond us over the hedge-rows. + +"Oh, that is Mrs. Carew's home. She is a widow and Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +dearest friend. How she loved Gwendolen! How we all loved her! And now, +that _wretch_--" + +She burst into tears. They were genuine ones; so was her grief. + +I waited till she was calm again, then I inquired very softly: + +"What wretch?" + +"You have not been inside," she suggested, pointing sharply to the +bungalow. + +I took the implied rebuke and entered the door she indicated. A man was +sitting within, but he rose and went out when he saw us. He wore a +policeman's badge and evidently recognized her or possibly myself. I +noted, however, that he did not go far from the doorway. + +"It is only a den," remarked Miss Graham. + +I looked about me. She had described it perfectly: a place to lounge in +on an August day like the present. Walls of Georgia pine across one of +which hung a series of long dark rugs; a long, low window looking toward +the house, and a few articles of bamboo furniture describe the place. +Among the latter was a couch. It was drawn up underneath the window, on +the other side of which ran the bench where my companion declared she +had been sitting while listening to the music. + +"Wouldn't you think my attention would have been caught by the sound of +any one moving about here?" she cried, pointing to the couch and then to +the window. "But the window was closed and the door, as you see, is +round the corner from the bench." + +"A person with a very stealthy step, apparently." + +"Very," she admitted. "Oh, how can I ever forgive myself! how can I +ever, ever forgive myself!" + +As she stood wringing her hands in sight of that empty couch, I cast a +scrutinizing glance about me, which led me to remark: + +"This interior looks new; much newer than the outside. It has quite a +modern air." + +"Yes, the bungalow is old, very old; but this room, or den, or whatever +you might call it, was all remodeled and fitted up as you see it now +when the new house went up. It had long been abandoned as a place of +retreat, and had fallen into such decay that it was a perfect eyesore +to all who saw it. Now it is likely to be abandoned again, and for what +a reason! Oh, the dreadful place! How I hate it, now Gwendolen is gone!" + +"One moment. I notice another thing. This room does not occupy the whole +of the bungalow." + +Either she did not hear me or thought it unnecessary to reply; and +perceiving that her grief had now given way to an impatience to be gone, +I did not press the matter, but led the way myself to the door. As we +entered the little path which runs directly to that outlet in the hedge +marked E, I ventured to speak again: + +"You have reasons, or so it appears, for believing that the child was +carried off through this very path?" + +The reply was impetuous: + +"How else could she have been spirited away so quickly? Besides,--" here +her eye stole back at me over her shoulder,--"I have since remembered +that as I ran out of the bungalow in my fright at finding the child +gone, I heard the sound of wheels on Mrs. Carew's driveway. It did not +mean much to me then, for I expected to find the child somewhere about +the grounds; but _now_, when I come to think, it means everything, for a +child's cry mingled with it (or I imagined that it did) and that +child--" + +"But," I forcibly interposed, "the police should know this." + +"They do; and so does Mrs. Ocumpaugh; but she has only the one idea, and +nothing can move her." + +I remembered the wagon with the crying child inside which had been seen +on the roads the previous evening, and my heart fell a little in spite +of myself. + +"Couldn't Mrs. Carew tell us something about this?" I asked, with a +gesture toward the house we were now passing. + +"No. Mrs. Carew went to New York that morning and had only just returned +when we missed Gwendolen. She had been for her little nephew, who has +lately been made an orphan, and she was too busy making him feel at home +to notice if a carriage had passed through her grounds." + +"Her servants then?" + +"She had none. All had been sent away. The house was quite empty." + +I thought this rather odd, but having at this moment reached the long +flight of steps leading down the embankment, I made no reply till we +reached the foot. Then I observed: + +"I thought Mrs. Carew was very intimate with Mrs. Ocumpaugh." + +"She is; they are more like sisters than mere friends." + +"Yet she goes to New York the very day her friend gives a musicale." + +"Oh, she had good reasons for that. Mrs. Carew is planning to sail this +week for Europe, and this was her only opportunity for getting her +little nephew, who is to go with her. But I don't know as she will sail, +now. She is wild with grief over Gwendolen's loss, and will not feel +like leaving Mrs. Ocumpaugh till she knows whether we shall ever see the +dear child again. But, I shall miss my train." + +Here her step visibly hastened. + +As it was really very nearly due, I had not the heart to detain her. But +as I followed in her wake I noticed that for all her hurry a curious +hesitancy crept into her step at times, and I should not have been +surprised at any moment to see her stop and confront me on one of the +two remaining long flights of steps leading down the steep hillside. + +But we both reached the base without her having yielded to this impulse, +and presently we found ourselves in full view of the river and the small +flag-station located but a few rods away toward the left. As we turned +toward the latter, we both cast an involuntary look back at the +Ocumpaugh dock, where a dozen men could be seen at work dragging the +river-bed with grappling irons. It made a sadly suggestive picture, and +the young girl at my side shuddered violently as we noted the expression +of morbid curiosity on the faces of such onlookers, men and women, as +were drawn up at the end of the small point on which the boat-house +stood. + +But I had another reason than this for urging her on. I had noticed how, +at the sight of her slight figure descending the slope, some half-dozen +men or so had separated themselves from this group, with every +appearance of intending to waylay and question her. She noticed this +too, and drawing up more closely to my side, exclaimed with marked +feeling: + +"Save me from these men and I will tell you something that no one--" + +But here she stopped, here our very thoughts stopped. A shout had risen +from the group at the water-edge; a shout which made us both turn, and +even caused the men who had started to follow us to wheel about and rush +back to the dock with every appearance of intense excitement. + +"What is it? What can it be?" faltered my greatly-alarmed companion. + +"They have found something. See! what is that the man in the boat is +holding up? It looks like--" + +But she was already half-way to the point, outstripping the very men +whose importunities she had shrunk from a moment before. I was not far +behind her, and almost immediately we found ourselves wedged among the +agitated group leaning over the little object which had been tossed +ashore into the first hand outstretched to receive it. + +It was a second little shoe--filled with sand and dripping with water, +but recognizable as similar to the one already found on the preceding +day high up on the bank. As this fact was borne in on us all, a groan of +pity broke from more than one pair of lips, and eye after eye stole up +the hillside to that far window in the great pile above us where the +mother's form could be dimly discerned swaying in an agitation caught +from our own excitement. + +But there was one amongst us whose glance never left that little shoe. +The train she had been so anxious to take whistled and went thundering +by, but she never moved or noticed. Suddenly she reached out her hand. + +"Let me see it, please," she entreated. "I was her nurse; let me take it +in my hand." + +The man who held it passed it over. She examined it long and closely. + +"Yes, it is hers," said she. But in another moment she had laid it down +with what I thought was a very peculiar look. + +Instantly it was caught up and carried with a rush up the slope to where +Mrs. Ocumpaugh could be seen awaiting it with outstretched arms. But I +did not linger to mark her reception of it. Miss Graham had drawn me to +one side and was whispering in my ear: + +"I must talk to you. I can not keep back another moment what I think or +what I feel. Some one is playing with Mrs. Ocumpaugh's fears. That shoe +is Gwendolen's, but it is not the mate of the one found on the bank +above. That was for the left foot _and so is this one_. Did you not +notice?" + + + + +II + +"A FEARSOME MAN" + + +The effect of this statement upon me was greater than even she had +contemplated. + +"You thought the child had been stolen for the reward she would bring?" +she continued. "She was not; she was taken out of pure hate, and that is +why I suffer so. What may they not do to her! In what hole hide her! My +darling, O my darling!" + +She was going off into hysterics, but the look and touch I gave her +recalled her to herself. + +"We need to be calm," I urged. "You, because you have something of +importance to impart, and I, because of the action I must take as soon +as the facts you have concealed become known to me. What gives you such +confidence in this belief, which I am sure is not shared by the police, +and who is the _some one_ who, as you say, is playing upon Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's fears? A short time ago it was as _the wretch_ you spoke of +him. Are not _some one_ and _the wretch_ one and the same person, and +can you not give him now a name?" + +We had been moving all this time in the direction of the station and had +now reached the foot of the platform. Pausing, she cast a last look up +the bank. The trees were thick and hid from our view the Ocumpaugh +mansion, but in imagination she beheld the mother moaning over that +little shoe. + +"I shall never return there," she muttered; "why do I hesitate so to +speak!" Then in a burst, as I watched her in growing excitement: +"She--Mrs. Ocumpaugh--begged me not to tell what she believed had +nothing to do with our Gwendolen's loss. But I can not keep silence. +This proof of a conspiracy against herself certainly relieves me from +any promise I may have made her. Mr. Trevitt, I am positive that I know +who carried off Gwendolen." + +This was becoming interesting, intensely interesting to me. Glancing +about and noting that the group down at the water-edge had become +absorbed again in renewed efforts toward farther discoveries, I beckoned +her to follow me into the station. It was but a step, but it gave me +time to think. What was I encouraging this young girl to do? To reveal +to _me_, who had no claim upon her but that of friendship, a secret +which had not been given to the police? True, it might not be worth +much, but it was also true that it might be worth a great deal. Did she +know how much? I wanted money--few wanted it more--but I felt that I +could not listen to her story till I had fairly settled this point. I +therefore hastened to interpose a remark: + +"Miss Graham, you are good enough to offer to reveal some fact hitherto +concealed. Do you do this because you have no closer friend than myself, +or because you do not know what such knowledge may be worth to the +person you give it to--in money, I mean?" + +"In money? I am not thinking of money," was her amazed reply; "I am +thinking of Gwendolen." + +"I understand, but you should think of the practical results as well. +Have you not heard of the enormous reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh?" + +"No; I--" + +"Five thousand dollars for information; and fifty thousand to the one +who will bring her back within the week unharmed. Mr. Ocumpaugh cabled +to that effect yesterday." + +"It is a large sum," she faltered, and for a moment she hesitated. Then, +with a sweet and candid look which sank deep into my heart, she added +gravely: "I had rather not think of money in connection with Gwendolen. +If what I have to tell leads to her recovery, you can be trusted, I +know, to do what is right toward me. Mr. Trevitt, the man who stole her +from her couch and carried her away through Mrs. Carew's grounds in a +wagon or otherwise, is a long-haired, heavily whiskered man of sixty or +more years of age. His face is deeply wrinkled, but chiefly marked by a +long scar running down between his eyebrows, which are so shaggy that +they would quite hide his eyes if they were not lit up with an +extraordinary expression of resolution, carried almost to the point of +frenzy; a fearsome man, making your heart stand still when he pauses to +speak to you." + +Startled as I had seldom been, for reasons which will hereafter appear, +I surveyed her in mingled wonder and satisfaction. + +"His name?" I demanded. + +"I do not know his name." + +Again I stopped to look at her. + +"Does Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +"I do not think so. She only knows what I told her." + +"And what did you tell her?" + +"Ah! who are these?" + +Two or three persons had entered the station, probably to wait for the +next train. + +"No one who will molest you." + +But she was not content till we had withdrawn to where the time-table +hung up on the opposite wall. Turning about as if to consult it, she +told the following story. I never see a time-table now but I think of +her expression as she stood there looking up as if her mind were fixed +on what she probably did not see at all. + +"Last Wednesday--no, it was on the Wednesday preceding--I was taking a +ride with Gwendolen on one of the side roads branching off toward +Fordham. We were in her own little pony cart, and as we seldom rode +together like this, she had been chattering about a hundred things till +her eyes danced in her head and she looked as lovely as I had ever seen +her. But suddenly, just as we were about to cross a small wooden bridge, +I saw her turn pale and her whole sensitive form quiver. 'Some one I +don't like,' she cried. 'There is some one about whom I don't like. +Drive on, Ellie, drive on.' But before I could gather up the reins a +figure which I had not noticed before stepped from behind a tree at the +farther end of the bridge, and advancing into the middle of the road +with arms thrown out, stopped our advance. I have told you how he +looked, but I can give you no idea of the passionate fury lighting up +his eyes, or the fiery dignity with which he held his place and kept us +subdued to his will till he had looked the shrinking child all over, and +laughed, not as a madman laughs, oh, much too slow and ironically for +that! but like one who takes an unholy pleasure in mocking the happy +present with evil prophecy. Nothing that I can say will make you see him +as I saw him in that one instant, and though there was much in the +circumstance to cause fear, I think it was more awe than fright we felt, +so commanding was his whole appearance and so forcible the assurance +with which he held us there till he was ready to move. Gwendolen cried +out, but the imploring sound had no effect upon him; it only reawakened +his mirth and led him to say, in a clear, cold, mocking tone which I +hear yet, 'Cry out, little one, for your short day is nearly over. Silks +and feathers and carriages and servants will soon be a half-forgotten +memory to you; and right it is that it should be so. Ten days, little +one, only ten days more.' And with that he moved, and, slipping aside +behind the tree, allowed us to drive on. Mr. Trevitt, yesterday saw the +end of those ten days, and where is she now? Only that man knows. He is +one man in a thousand. Can not you find him?" + +She turned; a train was coming, a train which it was very evident she +felt it her duty to take. I had no right to detain her, but I found time +for a question or two. + +"And you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh this?" + +"The moment we arrived home." + +"And she? What did she think of it?" + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh is not a talkative woman. She grew very white and +clasped the child passionately in her arms. But the next minute she had +to all appearance dismissed the whole occurrence from her thoughts. +'Some socialistic fanatic,' she called him and merely advised me to stop +driving with Gwendolen for the present." + +"Didn't you recall the matter to her when you found the child missing?" + +"Yes; but then she appeared to regard it in a superstitious way only. It +was a warning of death, she said, and the man an irresponsible +clairvoyant. When I tried to urge my own idea upon her and describe how +I thought he might have obtained access to the bungalow and carried her +off, while still asleep, to some vehicle awaiting them in Mrs. Carew's +grounds, she only rebuked me for my folly and bade me keep still about +the whole occurrence, saying that I should only be getting some poor +half-demented old wretch into trouble for something for which he was not +in the least responsible." + +"A very considerate woman," I remarked; to which Miss Graham made reply +as the train came storming up: + +"Nobody knows how considerate, even if she has dismissed me rather +suddenly from her service. Don't let that wretch"--again she used the +word--"deceive her or you into thinking that the little one perished in +the water. Gwendolen is alive, I say. Find him and you will find her. I +saw his resolution in his eye." + +Here she made a rush for the cars, and I had time only to get her future +address before the train started and all further opportunity of +conversation between us was over for that day. + +I remained behind because I was by no means through with my +investigations. What she had told me only convinced me of the necessity +I had already recognized of making myself master of all that could be +learned at Homewood before undertaking the very serious business of +locating the child or even the aged man just described to me, and who I +was now sure had been the chief, if not the sole, instrument in her +abduction. + + + + +III + +A CHARMING WOMAN + + +Stopping only long enough to send a telegram to my partner in New York, +(for which purpose I had to walk along the tracks to the main station) I +returned by the short cut to Homewood. My purpose in doing this was +twofold. I should have a chance of seeing if the men were still at work +in the river, and I should also have the added opportunity of quietly +revisiting the bungalow, on the floor of which I had noted some +chalk-marks, which I felt called for a closer examination than I had +given them. As I came in view of the dock, I saw that the men were still +busy, but at a point farther out in the river, as if all hope had been +abandoned of their discovering anything more inshore. But the +chalk-marks in the bungalow were almost forgotten by me in the interest +I experienced in a certain adventure which befell me on my way there. + +I had just reached the opening in the hedge communicating with Mrs. +Carew's grounds, when I heard steps on the walk inside and a woman's +rich voice saying: + +"There, that will do. You must play on the other side of the house, +Harry. And Dinah, see that he does so, and that he does not cross the +hall again till I come back. The sight of so merry a child might kill +Mrs. Ocumpaugh if she happened to look this way." + +Moved by the tone, which was one in a thousand, I involuntarily peered +through the outlet I was passing, in the hope of catching a glimpse of +its owner, and thus was favored with the sight of a face which instantly +fixed itself in my memory as one of the most enchanting I had ever +encountered. Not from its beauty, yet it may have been beautiful; nor +from its youth, for the woman before me was not youthful, but from the +extraordinary eloquence of its expression caught at a rare moment when +the heart, which gave it life, was full. She was standing half-way down +the path, throwing kisses to a little boy who was leaning toward her +from an upper window. The child was laughing with glee, and it was this +laugh she was trying to check; but her countenance, as she made the +effort, was almost as merry as his, and yet was filled with such solemn +joy--such ecstasy of motherhood I should be inclined to call it, if I +had not been conscious that this must be Mrs. Carew and the child her +little nephew--that in my admiration for this exhibition of pure +feeling, I forgot to move on as she advanced into the hedge-row, and so +we came face to face. The result was as extraordinary to me as all the +rest. Instantly all the gay abandonment left her features, and she +showed me a grave, almost troubled, countenance, more in keeping with +her severe dress, which was as nearly like mourning as it could be and +not be made of crape. + +It was such a sudden change and of so complete a character, that I was +thrown off my guard for a moment and probably betrayed the curiosity I +undoubtedly felt; for she paused as she reached me, and, surveying me +very quietly but very scrutinizingly too, raised again that marvelous +voice of hers and pointedly observed: + +"This is a private path, sir. Only the friends of Mrs. Ocumpaugh or of +myself pass here." + +This was a speech calculated to restore my self-possession. With a bow +which evidently surprised her, I answered with just enough respect to +temper my apparent presumption: + +"I am here in the interests of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, to assist her in finding +her child. Moments are precious; so I ventured to approach by the +shorter way." + +"Pardon me!" The words did not come instantly, but after some +hesitation, during which she kept her eyes on my face in a way to rob me +of all thought save that she possessed a very strong magnetic quality, +to which it were well for a man like myself to yield. "You will be my +friend, too, if you succeed in restoring Gwendolen." Then quickly, as +she crossed to the Ocumpaugh grounds: "You do not look like a member of +the police. Are you here at Mrs. Ocumpaugh's bidding, and has she at +last given up all expectation of finding her child in the river?" + +I, too, thought a minute before answering, then I put on my most candid +expression, for was not this woman on her way to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and +would she not be likely to repeat what she heard me say? + +"I do not know how Mrs. Ocumpaugh feels at present. But I know what her +dearest wish is--to see her child again alive and well. That wish I +shall do my best to gratify. It is true that I am not a police +detective, but I have an agency of my own, well-known to both Mrs. and +Mr. Ocumpaugh. All its resources will be devoted to this business and I +hope to succeed, madam. If, as I suspect, you are on your way to Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, please tell her that Robert Trevitt, of Trevitt and Jupp, +hopes to succeed." + +"I _will_," she emphasized. Then stepping back to me in all the grace of +her thrilling personality, she eagerly added: "If there is any +information I can give, do not be afraid to ask me. I love children, and +would give anything in the world to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh as happy with +Gwendolen again as I am with my little nephew. Are you quite sure that +there is any possibility of this? I was told that the child's shoe has +been found in the river; but almost immediately following this +information came the report that there was something odd about this +shoe, and that Mrs. Ocumpaugh had gone into hysterics. Do _you_ know +what they meant by that? I was just going over to see." + +I did know what they meant, but I preferred to seem ignorant. + +"I have not seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I evasively rejoined. "But _I_ don't +look for the child to be drawn from the water." + +"Nor I," she repeated, with a hoarse catch in her breath. "It is +thirty-six hours since we lost her. Time enough for the current to have +carried her sweet little body far away from here." + +I surveyed the lady before me in amazement. + +"Then _you_ think she strayed down to the water?" + +"Yes; it would madden me to believe otherwise; loving her so well, and +her parents so well, I dare not think of a worse fate." + +Taking advantage of her amiability and the unexpected opportunity it +offered for a leading question, I hereupon ventured to say: "You were +not at home, I hear, when she vanished from the bungalow." + +"No; that is, if it happened before three o'clock. I arrived from the +station just as the clock was striking the hour, and having my little +nephew with me, I was too much occupied in reconciling him to his new +home, to hear or see anything outside. Most unfortunate!" she mourned, +"most unfortunate! I shall never cease reproaching myself. A tragedy at +my door"--here she glanced across the shrubbery at the bungalow--"and I +occupied with my own affairs!" + +With a flush, the undoubted result of her own earnestness, she turned as +if to go. But I could not let her depart without another question: + +"Excuse me, Mrs. Carew, but you gave me permission to seem importunate. +With the exception of her nurse, you were the one person nearest the +bungalow at the time. Didn't you hear a carriage drive through your +grounds at about the hour the alarm was first started? I know you have +been asked this before, but not by me; and it is a very important fact +to have settled; very important for those who wish to discover this +child at once." + +For reply she gave me a look of very honest amazement. + +"Of course I did," she replied. "I came in a carriage myself from the +station and naturally heard it drive away." + +At her look, at her word, the thread which I had seized with such +avidity seemed to slip from my fingers. Had little Miss Graham's theory +no better foundation than this? and were the wheels she heard only +those of Mrs. Carew's departing carriage? I resolved to press the matter +even if I ran the risk of displeasing her. + +"Mrs. Carew--for it must be Mrs. Carew I am addressing--did your little +nephew cry when you first brought him to the house?" + +"I think he did," she admitted slowly; "I think he did." + +I must have given evidence of the sudden discouragement this brought me, +for her lips parted and her whole frame trembled with sudden +earnestness. + +"Did you think--did any one think--that those cries came from Gwendolen? +That she was carried out through my grounds? Could any one have thought +that?" + +"I have been told that the nursery-governess did." + +"Little Miss Graham? Poor girl! she is but defending herself from +despair. She is ready to believe everything but that the child is dead." + +Was it so? Was I following the false light of a will-o'-the-wisp? No, +no; the strange coincidence of the threat made on the bridge with the +disappearance of the child on the day named, was at least real. The +thread had not altogether escaped from my hands. It was less tangible, +but it was still there. + +"You may be right," I acquiesced, for I saw that her theories were +entirely opposed to those of Miss Graham. "But we must try everything, +_everything_." + +I was about to ask whether she had ever seen in the adjoining grounds, +or on the roads about, an old man with long hair and a remarkable scar +running down between his eyebrows, when a young girl in the cap and +apron of a maid-servant came running through the shrubbery from the +Ocumpaugh house, and, seeing Mrs. Carew, panted out: + +"Oh, do come over to the house, Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Ocumpaugh has been told +that the two shoes which have been found, one on the bank and the other +in the river, are not mates, and it has quite distracted her. She has +gone to her room and will let no one else in. We can hear her moaning +and crying, but we can do nothing. Perhaps she will see you. She called +for you, I know, before she shut her door." + +"I will go." Mrs. Carew had turned quite pale, and from standing upright +in the road, had moved so as to gain support from one of the hedges. + +I expected to see her turn and go as soon as her trembling fit was over, +but she did not, though she waved the girl away as if she intended to +follow her. Had I not learned to distrust my own impression of people's +motives from their manners and conduct, I should have said that she was +waiting for me to precede her. + +"Two shoes and not mates!" she finally exclaimed. "What does she mean?" + +"Simply that another shoe has been drawn up from the river-bottom which +does not mate the one picked up near the bungalow. Both are for the left +foot." + +"Ah!" gasped this sympathetic woman. "And what inference can we draw +from that?" + +I should not have answered her; but the command in her eyes or the +thrilling effect of her manner compelled me, and I spoke the truth at +once, just as I might have done to Mrs. Ocumpaugh, or, better still, to +Mr. Ocumpaugh, if either had insisted. + +"But one," said I. "There is a conspiracy on the part of one or more +persons to delude Mrs. Ocumpaugh into believing the child dead. They +blundered over it, but they came very near succeeding." + +"Who blundered, and what is the meaning of the conspiracy you hint at? +Tell me. Tell me what such men as you think." + +Her plastic features had again shown a change. She was all anxiety now; +cheeks burning, eyes blazing--a very beautiful woman. + +"We think that the case looks serious. We think from the very mystery it +displays, that there is a keen intelligence back of this crime. I can +not go any further than that. The affair is as yet too obscure." + +"You amaze me!" she faltered, making an effort to collect her thoughts. +"I have always thought, just as Mrs. Ocumpaugh has, that the child had +somehow found her way to the water and was drowned. But if all this is +true we shall have to face a worse evil. A conspiracy against such a +tender little being as that! A conspiracy, and for what? Not to extort +money, or why these blundering efforts to make the child appear dead?" + +She was the same sympathetic woman, agitated by real feeling as before, +yet at this moment--I do not understand now just why--I became aware of +an inner movement of caution against too great a display of candor on my +own part. + +"Madam, it is all a mystery at present. I am sure that the police will +tell you the same. But another day may bring developments." + +"Let us hope so!" was her ardent reply, accompanied by a gesture, the +freedom of which suited her style and person as it would not have done +those of a less impressionable woman. And, seeing that I had no +intention of leaving the spot where I stood, she moved at last from +where she held herself upright against the hedge, and entered the +Ocumpaugh grounds. "Will you call in to see me to-morrow?" she asked, +pausing to look back at a turn in the path. "I shall not sleep to-night +for thinking of those possible developments." + +"Since you permit me," I returned; "that is, if I am still here. Affairs +may call me away at any moment." + +"Yes, and so with me. Affairs may call me away also. I was to sail on +Saturday for Liverpool. Only Mrs. Ocumpaugh's distress detains me. If +the situation lightens, if we hear any good news to-night, or even early +to-morrow, I shall continue my preparations, which will take me again +to New York." + +"I will call if you are at home." + +She gave me a slight nod and vanished. + +Why did I stand a good three minutes where she had left me, thinking, +but not getting anything from my thoughts, save that I was glad that I +had not been betrayed into speaking of the old man Miss Graham had met +on the bridge? Yet it might have been well, after all, if I had done so, +if only to discover whether Mrs. Ocumpaugh had confided this occurrence +to her most intimate friend. + + + + +IV + +CHALK-MARKS + + +My next move was toward the bungalow. Those chalk-marks still struck me +as being worthy of investigation, and not only they, but the bungalow +itself. That certainly merited a much closer inspection than I had been +able to give it under Miss Graham's eye. + +It was not quite a new place to me, nor was I so ignorant of its history +(and it had a history) as I had appeared to be in my conversation with +Miss Graham. Originally it had been a stabling place for horses; and +tradition said that it had once harbored for a week the horse of General +Washington. This was when the house on the knoll above had been the seat +and home of one of our most famous Revolutionary generals. Later, as the +trees grew up around this building, it attracted the attention of a new +owner, William Ocumpaugh, the first of that name to inhabit Homewood, +and he, being a man of reserved manners and very studious habits, +turned it into what we would now call, as Miss Graham did, a den, but +which he styled a pavilion, and used as a sort of study or reading-room. + +His son, who inherited it, Judge Philo Ocumpaugh, grandfather of the +present Philo, was as studious as his father, but preferred to read and +write in the quaint old library up at the house, famous for its wide +glass doors opening on to the lawn, and its magnificent view of the +Hudson. His desk, which many remember (it has a place in the present +house, I believe), was so located that for forty years or more he had +this prospect ever before him, a prospect which included the sight of +his own pavilion, around which, for no cause apparent to his +contemporaries, he had caused a high wall to be built, effectually +shutting in both trees and building. + +This wall has since been removed; but I have often heard it spoken of, +and always with a certain air of mystery; possibly because, as I have +said, there seemed no good reason for its erection, the place holding no +treasure and the gate standing always open; possibly because of its +having been painted, in defiance of all harmony with everything about +the place, a dazzling white; and possibly because it had not been raised +till after the death of the judge's first wife, who, some have said, +breathed her last within the precincts it inclosed. + +However that may be, there seems to be no doubt that this place exerted, +very likely against his will, for he never visited it, a singular +fascination over the secretive mind of this same upright but strangely +taciturn ancestor of the Ocumpaughs. For during the forty years in which +he wrote and read at this desk, the shutters guarding the door +overlooking those decaying walls were never drawn to, or so the +tradition runs; and when he died, it was found that, by a clause in his +will, this pavilion, hut or bungalow, all of which names it bore at +different stages of its existence, was recommended to the notice of his +heirs as an object which they were at liberty to leave in its present +forsaken condition, though he did not exact this, but which was never, +under any circumstances or to serve any purpose, to be removed from its +present site, or even to suffer any demolition save such as came with +time and the natural round of the seasons, to whose tender mercies he +advised it to be left. In other words, it was to stand, and to stand +unmolested, till it fell of its own accord, or was struck to the earth +by lightning--a tragic alternative in the judgment of those who knew it +for a structure of comparative insignificance, and one which, in the +minds of many, and perhaps I may say in my own, appeared to point to +some serious and unrevealed cause not unlinked with the almost forgotten +death of that young wife to which I have just alluded. + +This was years ago, far back in the fifties, and his son, who was a +minor at his death, grew up and assumed his natural proprietorship. The +hut--it was nothing but a hut now--had remained untouched--a ruin no +longer habitable. The spirit, as well as the letter, of that particular +clause in his father's will had so far been literally obeyed. The walls +being of stone, had withstood decay, and still rose straight and firm; +but the roof had begun to sag, and whatever of woodwork yet remained +about it had rotted and fallen away, till the building was little more +than a skeleton, with holes for its windows and an open gap for its +door. + +As for the surrounding wall, it no longer stood out, an incongruous +landmark, from its background of trees and shrubbery. Young shoots had +started up and old branches developed till brick and paint alike were +almost concealed from view by a fresh girdle of greenery. + +And now comes the second mystery. + +Sometime after this latter Ocumpaugh had attained his majority--his name +was Edwin, and he was, as you already imagine, the father of the present +Philo--he made an attempt--a daring one it was afterward called--to +brighten this neglected spot and restore it to some sort of use, by +giving a supper to his friends within its broken-down walls. + +This supper was no orgy, nor were the proprieties in any way +transgressed by so harmless a festivity; yet from this night a singular +change was observed in this man. Pleasure no longer charmed him, and +instead of repeating the experiment I have just described, he speedily +evinced such an antipathy to the scene of his late revel that only from +the greatest necessity would he ever again visit that part of the +grounds. + +What did it mean? What had occurred on that night of innocent enjoyment +to disturb or alarm him? Had some note in his own conscience been struck +by an act which, in his cooler moments, he may have looked upon as a +species of sacrilege? Or had some whisper from the past reached him amid +the feasting, the laughing and the jesting, to render these old walls +henceforth intolerable to him? He never said, but whatever the cause of +this sudden aversion, the effect was deep and promised to be lasting. +For, one morning, not long after this event, a party of workmen was seen +leaving these grounds at daybreak, and soon it was noised about that a +massive brick partition had been put up across the interior of this same +pavilion, completely shutting off, for no reason that any one could see, +some ten feet of what had been one long and undivided room. + +It was a strange act enough; but when, a few days later, it was followed +by one equally mysterious, and they saw the encircling wall which had +been so carefully raised by Judge Ocumpaugh ruthlessly pulled down, and +every sign of its former presence there destroyed, wonder filled the +highway and the curiosity of neighbors and friends passed all bounds. + +But no explanations were volunteered then or ever. People might query +and peer, but they learned nothing. What was left open to view told no +tales beyond the old one, and as for the single window which was the +sole opening into the shut-off space, it was then, as now, so completely +blocked up by a network of closely impacted vines, that it offered +little more encouragement than the wall itself to the eyes of such +curiosity-mongers as crept in by way of the hedge-rows to steal a look +at the hut, and if possible gain a glimpse of an interior which had +suddenly acquired, by the very means taken to shut it off from every +human eye, a new importance pointing very decidedly toward the tragic. + +But soon even this semblance of interest died out or was confined to +strange tales whispered under breath on weird nights at neighboring +firesides, and the old neglect prevailed once more. The whole place--new +brick and old stone--seemed doomed to a common fate under the hand of +time, when the present Philo Ocumpaugh, succeeding to the property, +brought new wealth and business enterprise into the family, and the old +house on the hill was replaced by the marble turrets of Homewood, and +this hut--or rather the portion open to improvement--was restored to +some sort of comfort, and rechristened the bungalow. + +Was fate to be appeased by this effort at forgetfulness? No. In +emulation of the long abandoned portion so hopelessly cut off by that +dividing wall, this brightly-furnished adjunct to the great house had +linked itself in the minds of men to a new mystery--the mystery which I +had come there to solve, if wit and patience could do it, aided by my +supposedly unshared knowledge of a fact connecting me with this family's +history in a way it little dreamed of. + +Naturally, my first look was at the building itself. I have described +its location and the room from which the child was lost. What I wanted +to see now, after studying those chalk-marks, was whether that partition +which had been put in, was as impassable as was supposed. + +The policeman on guard having strolled a few feet away, I approached +the open doorway without hindrance, and at once took that close look I +had promised myself, of the marks which I had observed scrawled broadly +across the floor just inside the threshold. They were as interesting and +fully as important as I had anticipated. Though nearly obliterated by +the passing of the policeman's feet across them, I was still enabled to +read the one word which appeared to me significant. + +If you will glance at the following reproduction of a snap-shot which I +took of this scrawl, you will see what I mean. + +[Illustration] + +The significant character was the 16. Taken with the "ust," there could +be no doubt that the whole writing had been a record of the date on +which the child had disappeared: August 16, 190-. + +This in itself was of small consequence if the handwriting had not +possessed those marked peculiarities which I believed belonged to but +one man--a man I had once known--a man of reverend aspect, upright +carriage and a strong distinguishing mark, like an old-time scar, +running straight down between his eyebrows. This had been my thought +when I first saw it. It was doubly so on seeing it again after the +doubts expressed by Miss Graham of a threatening old man who possessed +similar characteristics. + +Satisfied on this point, I turned my attention to what still more +seriously occupied it. The three or four long rugs, which hung from the +ceiling across the whole wall at my left, evidently concealed the +mysterious partition put up in Mr. Ocumpaugh's father's time directly +across this portion of the room. Was it a totally unbroken partition? I +had been told so; but I never accept such assertions without a personal +investigation. + +Casting a glance through the doorway and seeing that it would take my +dreaming friend, the policeman, some two or three minutes yet to find +his way back to his post, I hastily lifted these rugs aside, one after +the other, and took a look behind them. A stretch of Georgia pine, laid, +as I readily discovered by more than one rap of my knuckles, directly +over the bricks it was intended to conceal, was visible under each; +from end to end a plain partition with no indications of its having been +tampered with since the alterations were first made. + +Dismissing from my mind one of those vague possibilities, which add such +interest to the calling of a detective, I left the place, with my full +thought concentrated on the definite clue I had received from the +chalk-marks. + +But I had not walked far before I met with a surprise which possibly +possessed a significance equal to anything I had already observed, if +only I could have fully understood it. + +On the path into which I now entered, I encountered again the figure of +Mrs. Carew. Her face was turned full on mine, and she had evidently +retraced her steps to have another instant's conversation with me. The +next moment I was sure of this. Her eyes, always magnetic, shone with +increasing brightness as I advanced to meet her, and her manner, while +grave, was that of a woman quite conscious of the effect she produced by +her least word or action. + +"I have returned to tell you," said she, "that I have more confidence in +your efforts than in those of the police officers around here. If +Gwendolen's fate is determined by any one it will be by you. So I want +to be of aid to you if I can. Remember that. I may have said this to you +before, but I wish to impress it upon you." + +There was a flutter in her movements which astonished me. She was +surveying me in a straightforward way, and I could not but feel the fire +and force of her look. Happily she was no longer a young woman or I +might have misunderstood the disturbance which took place in my own +breast as I waited for the musical tones to cease. + +"You are very good," I rejoined. "I need help, and shall be only too +glad to receive your assistance." + +Yet I did question her, though I presently found myself walking toward +the house at her side. She may not have expected me to presume so far. +Certainly she showed no dissatisfaction when, at a parting in the path, +I took my leave of her and turned my face in the direction of the gates. +A strange sweet woman, with a power quite apart from the physical charms +which usually affect men of my age, but one not easily read nor parted +from unless one had an imperative errand, as I had. + +This errand was to meet and forestall the messenger boy whom I momently +expected with the answer to my telegram. That an opportunity for gossip +was likewise afforded by the motley group of men and boys drawn up near +one of the gate-posts, gave an added interest to the event which I was +quite ready to appreciate. Approaching this group, I assimilated myself +with it as speedily as possible, and, having some tact for this sort of +thing, soon found myself the recipient of various gratuitous opinions as +to the significance of the find which had offered such a problem both to +the professional and unprofessional detective. Two mismated shoes! Had +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh by any chance worn such? No--or the ones mating them +would have been found in her closet, and this, some one shouted out, had +not been done. Only the one corresponding to that fished up from the +waters of the dock had come to light; the other, the one which the child +must really have worn, was no nearer being found than the child herself. +What did it all mean? No one knew; but all attempted some sort of +hazardous guess which I was happy to see fell entirely short of the +mark. + +There was not a word of the vindictive old man described by Miss Graham, +till I myself introduced the topic. My reason or rather my excuse for +introducing it was this: + +On the gate-post near me I had observed the remnants of a strip of paper +which had been pasted there and afterward imperfectly torn off. It had +an unsightly look, but I did not pay much attention to it till some +movement in the group forced me a little nearer to the post, when I was +surprised enough to see that this scrap of paper showed signs of words, +and that these words gave evidence of being a date written in the very +hand I now had no difficulty in recognizing as that of the old man +uppermost in my own mind, even if he were not the one whom Miss Graham +had seen on the bridge. This date--strange to say--was the same +significant one already noted on the floor of the bungalow--a fact which +I felt merited an explanation if any one about me could give it. + +Waiting, therefore, for a lull in the remarks passing between the +stable-men and other employees about the place, I drew the attention of +the first man who would listen, to the half torn-off strip of paper on +the post, and asked if that was the way the Ocumpaughs gave notice of +their entertainments. + +He started, then turned his back on me. + +"That wasn't put there for the entertainment," he growled; "that was +pasted up there by some one who wanted to show off his writin'. There +don't seem to be no other reason." + +As the man who spoke these words had thereby proved himself a blockhead, +I edged away from him as soon as possible toward a very decent looking +fellow who appeared to have more brains than speech. + +"Do you know who pasted that date upon the post?" I inquired. + +He answered very directly. + +"No, or I should have been laying for him long before this. Why, it is +not only there you can see it. I found it pinned to the carriage +cushions one day just as I was going to drive Mrs. Ocumpaugh out." +(Evidently I had struck upon the coachman.) "And not only that. One of +the girls up at the house--one as I knows pretty well--tells me--I don't +care who hears it now--that it was written across a card which was left +at the door for Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and all in the same handwriting, which +is not a common one, as you can see. This means something, seeing it +was the date when our bad luck fell on us." + +He had noted that. + +"You don't mean to say that these things were written and put about +before the date you see on them." + +"But I do. Would we have noticed since? But who are you, sir, if I may +ask? One of them detective fellows? If so, I have a word to say: Find +that child or Mrs. Ocumpaugh's blood will be on your head! She'll not +live till Mr. Ocumpaugh comes home unless she can show him his child." + +"Wait!" I called out, for he was turning away toward the stable. "You +know who wrote those slips?" + +"Not a bit of it. No one does. Not that anybody thinks much about them +but me." + +"The police must," I ventured. + +"May be, but they don't say anything about it. Somehow it looks to me as +if they were all at sea." + +"Possibly they are," I remarked, letting him go as I caught sight of a +small boy coming up the road with several telegrams in his hand. + +"Is one of those directed to Robert Trevitt?" I asked, crowding up with +the rest, as his small form was allowed to slip through the gate. + +"Spec's there is," he replied, looking them over and handing me one. + +I carried it to one side and hastily tore it open. It was, as I +expected, from my partner, and read as follows: + + Man you want has just returned after two days' absence. Am on + watch. Saw him just alight from buggy with what looked like + sleeping child in his arms. Closed and fastened front door after + him. Safe for to-night. + +Did I allow my triumph to betray itself? I do not think so. The question +which kept down my elation was this: Would I be the first man to get +there? + + + + +V + +THE OLD HOUSE IN YONKERS + + +The old man whose handwriting I had now positively identified was a +former employer of mine. I had worked in his office when a lad. He was a +doctor of very fair reputation in Westchester County, and I recognized +every characteristic of his as mentioned by Miss Graham, save the frenzy +which she described as accompanying his address. + +In those days he was calm and cold and, while outwardly scrupulous, +capable of forgetting his honor as a physician under a sufficiently +strong temptation. I had left him when new prospects opened, and in the +years which had elapsed had contented myself with the knowledge that his +shingle still hung out in Yonkers, though his practice was nothing to +what it used to be when I was in his employ. Now I was going to see him +again. + +That his was the hand which had stolen Gwendolen seemed no longer open +to doubt. That she was under his care in the curious old house I +remembered in the heart of Yonkers, seemed equally probable; but why so +sordid a man--one who loved money above everything else in the +world--should retain the child one minute after the publication of the +bountiful reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh, was what I could not at first +understand. Miss Graham's theory of hate had made no impression on me. +He was heartless and not likely to be turned aside from any project he +had formed, but he was not what I considered vindictive where nothing +was to be gained. Yet my comprehension of him had been but a boy's +comprehension, and I was now prepared to put a very different estimate +on one whose character had never struck me as being an open one, even +when my own had been most credulous. + +That my enterprise, even with the knowledge I possessed of this man, +promised well or held out any prospects of easy fulfilment, I no longer +allowed myself to think. If money was his object--and what other could +influence a man of his temperament?--the sum offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh, +large though it was, had apparently not sufficed to satisfy his greed. +He was holding back the child, or so I now believed, in order to wring +a larger, possibly a double, amount from the wretched mother. Fifty +thousand was a goodly sum, but one hundred thousand was better; and this +man had gigantic ideas where his cupidity was concerned. I remember how +firmly he had once stood out for ten thousand dollars when he had been +offered five; and I began to see, though in an obscure way as yet, how +it might very easily be a part of his plan to work Mrs. Ocumpaugh up to +a positive belief in the child's death before he came down upon her for +the immense reward he had fixed his heart upon. The date he had written +all over the place might thus find some explanation in a plan to weaken +her nerve before pressing his exorbitant claims upon her. + +Nothing was clear, yet everything was possible in such a nature; and +anxious to enter upon the struggle both for my own sake and that of the +child of whose condition under that terrible eye I scarcely dared to +think, I left Homewood in haste and took the first train for Yonkers. +Though the distance was not great, I had fully arranged my plans before +entering the town where so many of my boyish years had been spent. I +knew the old fox well enough, or thought I did, to be certain that I +should have anything but an easy entrance into his house, in case it +still harbored the child whom my partner had seen carried in there. I +anticipated difficulties, but was concerned about none but the +possibility of not being able to bring myself face to face with him. +Once in his presence, the knowledge which I secretly possessed of an old +but doubtful transaction of his, would serve to make him mine even to +the point of yielding up the child he had forcibly abducted. But would +he accord me an interview? Could I, without appeal to the police--and +you can readily believe I was not anxious to allow them to put their +fingers in my pie--force him to open his door and let me into his house, +which, as I well recalled, he locked up at nine--after which he would +receive no one, not even a patient? + +It was not nine yet, but it was very near that hour. I had but twenty +minutes in which to mount the hill to the old house marked by the +doctor's sign and by another peculiarity of so distinct a nature that it +would serve to characterize a dwelling in a city as large as New +York--though I doubt if New York can show its like from the Battery to +the Bronx. The particulars of this I will mention later. I have first to +relate the relief I felt when, on entering the old neighborhood, I heard +in response to a few notes of a certain popular melody which I had +allowed to leave my lips, an added note or two which warned me that my +partner was somewhere hidden among the alleys of this very +unaristocratic quarter. Indeed, from the sound, I judged him to be in +the rear of the doctor's house and, being anxious to hear what he had to +say before advancing upon the door which might open my way to easy +fortune or complete defeat, I paused a few steps off and waited for his +appearance. + +He was at my elbow before I had either seen or heard him. He was always +light of foot, but this time he seemed to have no tread at all. + +"Still here," was his comforting assurance. + +"Both?" I whispered back. + +"Both." + +"Any one else?" + +"No. A boy drove away the buggy and has not come back. Sawbones keeps no +girl." + +"Is the child quiet? Has there been no alarm?" + +"Not a breath." + +"No cops in the neighborhood? No spies around?" + +"Not one. We've got it all this time. But--" + +"Hush!" + +"There's nobody." + +"Yes, the doctor; he's fastening up his house. I must hasten; nothing +would induce me to let that innocent remain under his roof all night." + +"It's not the windows he is at." + +"What then?" + +"The door, the big front door." + +"The--" + +"Yes." + +I gave my partner a surprised look, undoubtedly lost in the darkness, +and drew a step nearer the house. + +"It's just the same old gloom-box," I exclaimed, and paused for an +instant to mark the changes which had taken place in the surroundings. +They were very few and I turned back to fix my eye on the front door +where a rattling sound could be heard, as of some one fingering the +latch. It was this door which formed the peculiarity of the house. In +itself it was like any other that was well-fashioned and solid, but it +opened upon space--that is, if it was ever opened, which I doubted. The +stoop and even the railing which had once guarded it, had all been +removed, leaving a bare front, with this inhospitable entrance shut +against every one who had not the convenience for mounting to it by a +ladder. There was another way in, but this was round on one side, and +did not present itself to the eye unless one approached from the west +end of the street; so that to half the passers-by the house looked like +a deserted one till they came abreast of the flagged path which led to +the office door. As the windows had never been unclosed in my day and +were not now, I took it for granted that they had remained thus +inhospitably shut during all the years of my absence, which certainly +offered but little encouragement to a man bent on an errand which would +soon take him into those dismal precincts. + +"What goes on behind those shuttered windows?" thought I. "I know of one +thing, but what else?" The one thing was the counting of money and the +arranging of innumerable gold pieces on the great top of a baize-covered +table in what I should now describe as the back parlor. I remembered how +he used to do it. I caught him at it once, having crept up one windy +night from my little room off the office to see what kept the doctor up +so late. + +As I now stood listening in the dark street to those strange touches on +a door disused for years, I recalled the tremor with which I rounded the +top of the stair that night of long ago and the mingled fear and awe +with which I recognized, not only such a mint of money as I had never +seen out of the bank before, but the greedy and devouring passion with +which he pushed the glittering coins about and handled the bank-notes +and gloated over the pile it all made when drawn together by his hooked +fingers, till the sound, perhaps, of my breathing in the dark hall +startled him with a thought of discovery, and his two hands came +together over that pile with a gesture more eloquent even than the look +with which he seemed to penetrate the very shadows in the silent space +wherein I stood. It was a vision short, but inexpressibly vivid, of the +miser incarnate, and having seen it and escaped detection, as was my +undeserved luck that night, I needed never to ask again why he had been +willing to accept risks from which most men shrink from fear if not from +conscience. He loved money, not as the spender loves it, openly and +with luxurious instincts, but secretly and with a knavish dread of +discovery which spoke of treasure ill acquired. + +And now he was seeking to add to his gains, and I stood on the outside +of his house listening to sounds I did not understand, instead of +attempting to draw him to the office-door by ringing the bell he never +used to disconnect till nine. + +"Do you know that I don't quite like the noises which are being made up +there?" came in a sudden whisper to my ear. "Supposing it was the child +trying to get out! She does not know there is no stoop; she seemed +sleeping or half-dead when he carried her in, and if by any chance she +has got hold of the key and the door should open--" + +"Hush!" I cried, starting forward in horror of the thought he had +suggested. "It is opening. I see a thread of light. What does it mean, +Jupp? The child? No; there is more than a child's strength in that push. +Hist!" Here I drew him flat against the wall. The door above had swung +back and some one was stamping on the threshold over our heads in what +appeared to be an outburst of ungovernable fury. + +That it was the doctor I could not doubt. But why this anger; why this +mad gasping after breath and the half-growl, half-cry, with which he +faced the night and the quiet of a street which to his glance, passing +as it did over our heads, must have appeared altogether deserted? We +were consulting each other's faces for some explanation of this +unlooked-for outbreak, when the door above us suddenly slammed to and we +heard a renewal of that fumbling with lock and key which had first drawn +our attention. But the hand was not sure or the hall was dark, for the +key did not turn in the lock. Suddenly awake to my opportunity, I +wheeled Jupp about and, making use of his knee and back, climbed up till +I was enabled to reach the knob and turn it just as the man within had +stepped back, probably to procure more light. + +The result was that the door swung open and I stumbled in, falling +almost face downward on the marble floor faintly checkered off to my +sight in the dim light of a lamp set far back in a bare and dismal hall. +I was on my feet again in an instant and it was in this manner, and with +all the disadvantages of a hatless head and a disordered countenance, +that I encountered again my old employer after five years of absence. + +He did not recognize me. I saw it by the look of alarm which crossed his +features and the involuntary opening of his lips in what would certainly +have been a loud cry if I had not smiled and cried out with false +gaiety: + +"Excuse me, doctor, I never came in by that door before. Pardon my +awkwardness. The step is somewhat high from the street." + +My smile is my own, they say; at all events it served to enlighten him. + +"Bob Trevitt," he exclaimed, but with a growl of displeasure I could +hardly condemn under the circumstances. + +I hastened to push my advantage, for he was looking very threateningly +toward the door which was swaying gently and in an inviting way to a man +who if old, had more power in his arms than I had in my whole body. + +"_Mr._ Trevitt," I corrected; "and on a very important errand. I am here +on behalf of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose child you have at this moment under +your roof." + + + + +VI + +DOCTOR POOL + + +It was a direct attack and for a minute I doubted if I had not made a +mistake in making it so suddenly and without gloves. His face purpled, +the veins on his forehead started out, his great form shook with an ire +that in such domineering natures as his can only find relief in a blow. +But the right hand did not rise nor the heavy fist fall. With admirable +self-restraint he faced me for a moment, without attempting either +protest or denial. Then his blazing eyes cooled down, and with a sudden +gesture which at once relaxed his extreme tension of nerve and muscle, +he pointed toward the end of the hall and remarked with studied +politeness: + +"My office is below, as you know. Will you oblige me by following me +there?" + +I feared him, for I saw that studiously as he sought to hide his +impressions, he too regarded the moment as one of critical +significance. But I assumed an air of perfect confidence, merely +observing as I left the neighborhood of the front door and the proximity +of Jupp: + +"I have friends on the outside who are waiting for me; so you must not +keep me too long." + +He was bending to take up the lamp from a small table near the basement +stair as I threw out these words in apparent carelessness, and the flash +which shot from under his shaggy brows was thus necessarily heightened +by the glare in which he stood. Yet with all allowances made I marked +him down in my own mind as dangerous, and was correspondingly surprised +when he turned on the top step of the narrow staircase I remembered so +vividly from the experience I have before named, and in the mildest of +accents remarked: + +"These stairs are a trifle treacherous. Be careful to grasp the +hand-rail as you come down." + +Was the game deeper than I thought? In all my remembrance of him I had +never before seen him look benevolent, and it alarmed me, coming as it +did after the accusation I had made. I felt tempted to make a stand and +demand that the interview be held then and there. For I knew his +subterranean office very well, and how difficult it would be to raise a +cry there which could be heard by any one outside. Still, with a +muttered, "Thank you," I proceeded to follow him down, only stopping +once in the descent to listen for some sound by which I could determine +in which room of the many I knew to be on this floor the little one lay, +on whose behalf I was incurring a possible bullet from the pistol I once +saw lurking amongst bottles and corks in one of the innumerable drawers +of the doctor's table. But all was still around and overhead; too still +for my peace of mind, in which dreadful visions began to rise of a +drugged or dying child, panting out its innocent breath in darkness and +solitude. Yet no. With those thousands to be had for the asking, any man +would be a fool to injure or even seriously to frighten a child upon +whose good condition they depended; much less a miser whose whole heart +was fixed on money. + +The clock struck as I put foot on the landing; so much can happen in +twenty minutes when events crowd and the passions of men reach their +boiling-point! I expected to see the old man try that door, even to +double bolt it as in the years gone by. But he merely threw a look that +way and proceeded on down the three or four steps which led into the +species of basement where he had chosen to fix his office. In another +moment that dim and dismal room broke upon my view under the vague light +of the small and poorly-trimmed lamp he carried. I saw again its musty +walls covered with books, where there were shelves laden with bottles +and a loose array of miscellaneous objects I had often handled but out +of which I never could make any meaning. I recognized it all and +detected but few changes. But these were startling ones. The old lounge +standing under the two barred windows which I had often likened in my +own mind to those of a jail, had been recovered; and lying on the table, +which I had always regarded with a mixture of awe and apprehension, I +perceived something which I had never seen there before: a Bible, with +its edges worn and its leaves rumpled as if often and eagerly handled. + +I was so struck by this last discovery that I stopped, staring, in the +doorway, looking from the sacred volume to his worn but vigorous figure +drawn up in the middle of the room, with the lamp still in his hand and +his small but brilliant eyes fixed upon mine with a certain ironical +glitter in them, which gave me my first distrust of the part I had come +there to play. + +"We will waste no words," said he, setting down the lamp, and seizing +with his disengaged hand the long locks of his flowing beard. "In what +respect are you a messenger from Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and what makes you +think I have her child in this house?" + +I found it easier to answer the last question first. + +"I know the child is here," I replied, "because my partner saw you bring +her in. I have gone into the detective business since leaving you." + +"Ah!" + +There was an astonishing edge to his smile and I felt that I should have +to make the most of that old discovery of mine, if I were to hold my own +with this man. + +"And may I ask," he coldly continued, "how you have succeeded in +connecting me with this young child's disappearance?" + +"It's straight as a string," I retorted. "You threatened the child to +its face in the hearing of its nurse some two weeks ago, on a certain +bridge where you stopped them. You even set the day when the little +Gwendolen should pass from luxury to poverty." Here I cast an +involuntary glance about the room where the only sign of comfort was the +newly upholstered lounge. "That day was the sixteenth, and we all know +what happened on that date. If this is not plain enough--" I had seen +his lip curl--"allow me to add, by way of explanation, that you have +seen fit to threaten Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself with this date, for I know +well the hand which wrote _August 16_ on the bungalow floor and in +various other places about Homewood where her eye was likely to fall." +And I let my own fall on a sort of manuscript lying open not far from +the Bible, which still looked so out of place to me on this +pagan-hearted old miser's table. "Such chirography as yours is not to be +mistaken," I completed, with a short gesture toward the disordered +sheets he had left spread out to every eye. + +"I see. A detective without doubt. Did you play the detective here?" + +The last question leaped like a shot from his lips. + +"You have not denied the threats to which I have just called your +attention," was my cautious reply. + +"What need of that?" he retorted. "Are you not a--_detective_?" + +There was sarcasm, as well as taunt in the way he uttered that last +word. I was conscious of being at a loss, but put a bold front on the +matter and proceeded as if conscious of no secret misgiving. + +"Can you deny as well that you have been gone two days from this place? +That during this time a doctor's buggy, drawn by a horse I should know +by description, having harnessed him three times a day for two years, +was seen by more than one observer in the wake of a mysterious wagon +from the interior of which a child's crying could be heard? The wagon +did not drive up to this house to-night, but the buggy did, and from it +you carried a child which you brought with you into this house." + +With a sudden down-bringing of his old but powerful hand on the top of +the table before him, he seemed about to utter an oath or some angry +invective. But again he controlled himself, and eying me without any +show of shame or even of desire to contradict any of my assertions, he +quietly declared: + +"You are after that reward, I observe. Well, you won't get it. Like many +others of your class you can follow a trail, but the insight to start +right and to end in triumphant success is given only to a genius, and +you are not a genius." + +With a blush I could not control, I advanced upon him, crying: + +"You have forestalled me. You have telegraphed or telephoned to Mr. +Atwater--" + +"I have not left my house since I came in here three hours ago." + +"Then--" I began. + +But he hushed me with a look. + +"It is not a matter of money," he declared almost with dignity. "Those +who think to reap dollars from the distress which has come upon the +Ocumpaugh family will eat ashes for their pains. Money will be spent, +but none of it earned, unless you, or such as you, are hired at so much +an hour to--follow trails." + +Greatly astounded not only by the attitude he took, but by the calm and +almost indifferent way in which he mentioned what I had every reason to +believe to be the one burning object of his existence, I surveyed him +with undisguised astonishment till another thought, growing out of the +silence of the many-roomed house above us, gripped me with secret dread; +and I exclaimed aloud and without any attempt at subterfuge: + +"She is dead, then! the child is dead!" + +"I do not know," was his reply. + +The four words were uttered with undeniable gloom. + +"You do not know?" I echoed, conscious that my jaw had fallen, and that +I was staring at him with fright in my eyes. + +"No. I wish I did. I would give half of my small savings to know where +that innocent baby is to-night. Sit down!" he vehemently commanded. "You +do not understand me, I see. You confound the old Doctor Pool with the +new." + +"I confound nothing," I violently retorted in strong revulsion against +what I had now come to look upon as the attempt of a subtile actor to +turn aside my suspicions and brave out a dangerous situation by a +ridiculous subterfuge. "I understand the miser whom I have beheld +gloating over his hoard in the room above, and I understand the doctor +who for money could lend himself to a fraud, the secret results of which +are agitating the whole country at this moment." + +"So!" The word came with difficulty. "So you _did_ play the detective, +even as a boy. Pity I had not recognized your talents at the time. But +no--" he contradicted himself with great rapidity; "I was not a redeemed +soul then; I might have done you harm. I might have had more if not +worse sins to atone for than I have now." And with scant appearance of +having noted the doubtful manner in which I had received this +astonishing outburst, he proceeded to cry aloud and with a commanding +gesture: "Quit this. You have undertaken more than you can handle. You, +a messenger from Mrs. Ocumpaugh? Never. You are but the messenger of +your own cupidity; and cupidity leads by the straightest of roads +directly down to hell." + +"This you proved six long years ago. Lead me to the child I believe to +be in this house or I will proclaim aloud the pact you entered into +then--a pact to which I was an involuntary witness whose word, however, +will not go for less on that account. Behind the curtain still hanging +over that old closet I stood while--" + +His hand had seized my arm with a grip few could have proceeded under. + +"Do you mean--" + +The rest was whispered in my ear. + +[Illustration: "DO YOU MEAN"--THE REST WAS WHISPERED IN MY EAR.] + +I nodded and felt that he was mine now. But the laugh which the next +minute broke from his lips dashed my assurance. + +"Oh, the ways of the world!" he cried. Then in a different tone and not +without reverence: "Oh, the ways of God!" + +I made no reply. For every reason I felt that the next word must come +from him. + +It was an unexpected one. + +"That was Doctor Pool unregenerate and more heedful of the things of +this world than of those of the world to come. You have to deal with +quite a different man now. It is of that very sin I am now repenting in +sackcloth and ashes. I live but to expiate it. Something has been done +toward accomplishing this, but not enough. I have been played upon, +used. This I will avenge. New sin is a poor apology for an old one." + +I scarcely heeded him. I was again straining my ears to catch a +smothered sob or a frightened moan. + +"What are you listening for?" he asked. + +"For the sound of little Gwendolen's voice. It is worth fifty thousand +dollars, you remember. Why shouldn't I listen for it? Besides, I have a +real and uncontrollable sympathy for the child. I am determined to +restore her to her home. Your blasphemous babble of a changed heart does +not affect me. You are after a larger haul than the sum offered by Mr. +Ocumpaugh. You want some of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's fortune. I have suspected +it from the first." + +"I want? Little you know what I want"--then quickly, convincingly: "You +are strangely deceived. Little Miss Ocumpaugh is not here." + +"What is that I hear, then?" was the quick retort with which I hailed +the sigh, unmistakably from infantile lips, which now rose from some +place very much nearer us than the hollow regions overhead toward which +my ears had been so long turned. + +"That!" He flashed with uncontrollable passion, and if I am not mistaken +clenched his hands so violently as to bury his nails in his flesh. +"Would you like to see what that is? Come!"--and taking up the lamp, he +moved, much to my surprise as well as to my intense interest, toward the +door of the small cupboard where I had myself slept when in his service. + +That he still meditated some deviltry which would call for my full +presence of mind to combat successfully, I did not in the least doubt. +Yet the agitation under which I crossed the floor was more the result of +an immediate anticipation of seeing--and in this place of all others in +the world--the child about whom my thoughts had clung so persistently +for forty-two hours, than of any results to myself in the way of injury +or misfortune. Though the room was small and my passage across it +necessarily short, I had time to remember Mrs. Ocumpaugh's pitiful +countenance as I saw it gazing in agony of expectation from her window +overlooking the river, and to catch again the sounds, less true and yet +strangely thrilling, of Mrs. Carew's voice as she said: "A tragedy at my +doors and I occupied with my own affairs!" Nor was this all. A +recollection of Miss Graham's sorrow came up before my eyes also, and, +truest of all, most penetrating to me of all the loves which seemed to +encompass this rare and winsome infant, the infinite tenderness with +which I once saw Mr. Ocumpaugh lift her to his breast, during one of my +interviews with him at Homewood. + +All this before the door had swung open. Afterward, I saw nothing and +thought of nothing but the small figure lying in the spot where I had +once pillowed my own head, and with no more luxuries or even comforts +about her than had been my lot under this broad but by no means +hospitable roof. + +A bare wall, a narrow cot, a table with a bottle and glass on it and the +child in the bed--that was all. But God knows, it was enough to me at +that breathless moment; and advancing eagerly, I was about to stoop over +the little head sunk deep in its pillow, when the old man stepped +between and with a short laugh remarked: + +"There's no such hurry. I have something to say first, in explanation of +the anger you have seen me display; an anger which is unseemly in a man +professing to have conquered the sins and passions of lost humanity. I +did follow this child. You were right in saying that it was my horse +and buggy which were seen in the wake of the wagon which came from the +region of Homewood and lost itself in the crossroads running between the +North River and the Sound. For two days and a night I followed it, +through more difficulties than I could relate in an hour, stopping in +lonely woods, or at wretched taverns, watching, waiting for the transfer +of the child, whose destination I was bound to know even if it cost me a +week of miserable travel without comfortable food or decent lodging. I +could hear the child cry out from time to time--an assurance that I was +not following a will-o'-the-wisp--but not till to-day, not till very +late to-day, did any words pass between me and the man and woman who +drove the wagon. At Fordham, just as I suspected them of making final +efforts to escape me, they came to a halt and I saw the man get out. + +"I immediately got out too. As we faced each other, I demanded what the +matter was. He appeared reckless. 'Are you a doctor?' he asked. I +assured him that I was. At which he blurted out: 'I don't know why +you've been following us so long, and I don't care. I've got a job for +you. A child in our wagon is ill.'" + +With a start I attempted to look over the old man's shoulder toward the +bed. But the deep, if irregular, breathing of the child reassured me, +and I turned to hear the doctor out. + +"This gave me my chance. 'Let me see her,' I cried. The man's eye +lowered. I did not like his face at all. 'If it's anything serious,' he +growled, 'I shall cut. It isn't my flesh and blood nor yet my old +woman's there. You'll have to find some place for the brat besides my +wagon if it's anything that won't get cured without nu'ssin'. So come +along and have a look.' I followed him, perfectly determined to take the +child under my own care, sick or well. 'Where were you going to take +her?' I asked. I didn't ask who she was; why should I? 'I don't know as +I am obliged to tell,' was his surly reply. 'Where we are going +oursel's,' he reluctantly added. 'But not to nu'ss. I've no time for +nu'ssin' brats, nor my wife neither. We have a journey to make. +Sarah!'--this to his wife, for by this time we were beside the wagon, +'lift up the flap and hold the youngster's hand out. Here's a doctor who +will tell us if it's fever or not.' A puny hand and wrist were thrust +out. I felt the pulse and then held out my arms. 'Give me the child,' I +commanded. 'She's sick enough for a hospital.' A grunt from the woman +within, an oath from the man, and a bundle was presently put in my arms, +from which a little moan escaped as I strode with it toward my buggy. 'I +do not ask your name,' I called back to the man who reluctantly followed +me. 'Mine is Doctor Pool and I live in Yonkers.' He muttered something +about not peachin' on a poor man who was really doin' an unfortunate a +kindness, and then slunk hurriedly back and was gone, wagon, wife and +all, by the time I had whipped up my tired old nag and turned about +toward Yonkers. But I had the child safe and sound in my arms, and my +fears of its fate were relieved. It was not well, but I anticipated +nothing serious. When it moaned I pressed it a little closer to my +breast and that was all. In three-quarters of an hour we were in +Yonkers. In fifteen minutes I had it on this bed, and had begun to +unroll the shawl in which it was closely wrapped. Did you ever see the +child about whom there has been all this coil?" + +"Yes, about three years ago." + +"Three years! I have seen her within a fortnight; yet I could carry +that young one in my arms for a whole hour without the least suspicion +that I was making a fool of myself." + +Quickly slipping aside, he allowed me to approach the bed and take my +first look at the sleeping child's face. It was a sweet one but I did +not need the hint he had given me to find the features strange, and +lacking every characteristic of those of Gwendolen Ocumpaugh. Yet as the +cutting off of the hair will often change the whole aspect of the +face--and this child's hair was short--I was stooping in great +excitement to notice more particularly the contour of cheek and chin +which had given individuality to the little heiress, when the doctor +touched me on the arm and drew my attention to a pair of little trousers +and a shirt which were hanging on the door behind me. + +"Those are the clothes I came upon under that great shawl. The child I +have been following and whom I have brought into my house under the +impression it was Gwendolen Ocumpaugh is not even a girl." + + + + +VII + +"FIND THE CHILD!" + + +I could well understand the wrath to which this man had given way, by +the feeling which now took hold of my own breast. + +"A boy!" I exclaimed. + +"A boy." + +Still incredulous, I leaned over the child and lifted into the full +light of the lamp one of the little hands I saw lying outside of the +coverlet. There was no mistaking it for a girl's hand, let alone a +little lady's. + +"So we are both fools!" I vociferated in my unbounded indignation, +careful however to lay the small hand gently back on the panting breast. +And turning away both from the doctor and his small patient, I strolled +back into the office. + +The bubble whose gay colors I had followed with such avidity had burst +in my face with a vengeance. + +But once from under the influence of the doctor's sarcastic eye, my +better nature reasserted itself. Wheeling about, I threw this question +back: + +"If that is a boy and a stranger, where is Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +A moan from the bed and a hurried movement on the part of the doctor, +who took this opportunity to give the child another dose of medicine, +were my sole response. Waiting till the doctor had finished his task and +drawn back from the bedside, I repeated the question and with increased +emphasis: + +"Where, then, is Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +Still the doctor did not answer, though he turned my way and even +stepped forward; his long visage, cadaverous from fatigue and the shock +of his disappointment, growing more and more somber as he advanced. + +When he came to a stand by the table, I asked again: + +"Where is the child idolized by Mr. Ocumpaugh and mourned to such a +degree by his almost maddened wife that they say she will die if the +little girl is not found?" + +The threat in my tones brought a response at last--a response which +astonished me. + +"Have I not said that I do not know? Do you not believe me? Do you think +me as blind to-day to truth and honor as I was six years ago? Have you +no idea of repentance and regeneration from sin? You are a detective. +Find me that child. You shall have money--hundreds--thousands--if you +can bring me proofs of her being yet alive. If the Hudson has swallowed +her--" here his figure rose, dilated and took on a majesty which +impressed itself upon me through all my doubts--"I will have vengeance +on whoever has thus dared the laws of God and man as I would on the +foulest murderer in the foulest slums of that city which breeds +wickedness in high places as in low. I lock hands no longer with Belial. +Find me the child, or make me at least to know the truth!" + +There was no doubting the passion which drove these words hot from his +lips. I recognized at last the fanatic whom Miss Graham had so +graphically described in relating her extraordinary adventure on the +bridge; and met him with this one question, which was certainly a vital +one: + +"Who dropped a shoe from the little one's closet, into the water under +the dock? Did you?" + +"No." His reply came quick and sharp. + +"But," I insisted, "you have had something to do with this child's +disappearance." + +He did not answer. A sullen look was displacing the fire of resolve in +the eyes I saw sinking slowly before mine. + +"I will not acknowledge it," he muttered; adding, however, in what was +little short of a growl: "Not yet, not till it becomes my duty to avenge +innocent blood." + +"You foretold the date." + +"Drop it." + +"You were in league with the abductor," I persisted. "I declare to your +face, in spite of all the vaunted scruples with which you seek to blind +me to your guilt, that you were in league with the abductor, knowing +what money Mrs. Ocumpaugh would pay. Only he was too smart for you, and +perhaps too unscrupulous. You would stop short of murder, now that you +have got religion. But his conscience is not so nice and so you fear--" + +"You do not know what I fear and I am not going to tell you. It is +enough that I am conscious of my own uprightness and that I say, Find +the child! You have incentive enough." + +It was true and it was growing stronger every minute. + +"Confine yourself to such clues as are apparent to every eye," he now +admonished me with an eagerness that seemed real. "If they are pointed +by some special knowledge you believe yourself to have gained, that is +all the better--perhaps. I do not propose to say." + +I saw that he had uttered his ultimatum. + +"Very good," said I. "I have, nevertheless, one more question to ask +which relates to those very clues. You can not refuse to answer it if +you are really desirous of aiding me in my efforts. Where did you first +come upon the wagon which you followed so many hours in the belief that +it held Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +He mused a moment with downcast head, his nervous frame trembling with +the force with which he threw his whole weight on the hand he held +outspread on the table before him. Then he calmly replied: + +"I will tell you that. At the gate of Mrs. Carew's grounds. You know +them? They adjoin the Ocumpaughs' on the left." + +My surprise made me lower my head but not so quickly that I did not +catch the oblique glint of his eye as he mentioned the name which I was +so little prepared to hear in this connection. + +"I was in my buggy on the highroad," he continued. "There was a constant +passing by of all kinds of vehicles on their way to and from the +Ocumpaugh entertainment, but none that attracted my attention till I +caught sight of the covered wagon I have endeavored to describe, being +driven out of the adjoining grounds. Then I pricked up my ears, for a +child was crying inside in the smothered way that tells of a hand laid +heavily over the mouth. I thought I knew what child this was, but you +have been a witness to my disappointment after forty-eight hours of +travel behind that wretched wagon." + +"It came out of Mrs. Carew's grounds?" I repeated, ignoring everything +but the one important fact. "And during the time, you say, when Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's guests were assembling? Did you see any other vehicle leave +by the same gate at or before that time?" + +"Yes, a carriage. It appeared to have no one in it. Indeed, I know that +it was empty, for I peered into it as it rolled by me down the street. +Of course I do not know what might have been under the seats." + +"Nothing," was my sharp retort. "That was the carriage in which Mrs. +Carew had come up from the train. Did it pass out before the wagon?" + +"Yes, by some minutes." + +"There is nothing, then, to be gained by that." + +"There does not seem to be." + +Was his accent in uttering this simple phrase peculiar? I looked up to +make sure. But his face, which had been eloquent with one feeling or +another during every minute of this long interview till the present +instant, looked strangely impassive, and I did not know how to press the +question hovering on my lips. + +"You have given me a heavy task," I finally remarked, "and you offer +very little assistance in the way of conjecture. Yet you must have +formed some." + +He toyed with his beard, combing it with his nervous, muscular fingers, +and as I watched how he lingered over the tips, caressing them before he +dropped them, I felt that he was toying with my perplexities in much the +same fashion and with an equal satisfaction. Angry and out of all +patience with him, I blurted out: + +"I will do without your aid. I will solve this mystery and earn your +money if not that of Mr. Ocumpaugh, with no assistance save that +afforded by my own wits." + +"I expect you will," he retorted; and for the first time since I burst +in upon him like one dropping from the clouds through the unapproachable +doorway on the upper floor, he lost that look of extreme tension which +had nerved his aged figure into something of the aspect of youth. With +it vanished his impressiveness. It was simply a tired old man I now +followed upstairs to the side door. As I paused to give him a final nod +and an assurance of intended good faith toward him, he made a kindly +enough gesture in the direction of my old room below and said: + +"Don't worry about the little fellow down there. He'll come out all +right. I shan't visit on him the extravagance of my own folly. I am a +Christian now." And with this encouraging remark he closed the door and +I found myself alone in the dark alley. + +My first sense of relief came from the coolness of the night air on my +flushed forehead and cheeks. After the stifling atmosphere of this +underground room, reeking with the fumes of the lamp and the heat of a +struggle which his dogged confidence in himself had made so unequal, it +was pleasurable just to sense the quiet and the cool of the night and +feel myself released from the bondage of a presence from which I had +frequently recoiled but had never thoroughly felt the force of till +to-night; my next, from the touch and voice of my partner who at that +moment rose from before the basement windows where he had evidently been +lying for a long time outstretched. + +"What have you two been doing down there?" was his very natural +complaint. "I tried to listen, I tried to see; but beyond a few +scattered words when your voices rose to an excited pitch, I have +learned nothing but that you were in no danger save from the overthrow +of your scheme. That has failed, has it not? You would have interrupted +me long ago if you had found the child." + +"Yes," I acknowledged; drawing him down the alley, "I have failed for +to-night, but I start afresh to-morrow. Though how I can rest idle for +nine hours, not knowing under what roof, if under any, that doomed +innocent may be lying, I do not know." + +"You must rest; you are staggering with fatigue now." + +"Not a bit of it, only with uncertainty. I don't see my way. Let us go +down street and see if any news has come over the wires since I left +Homewood." + +"But first, what a spooky old house that is! And what did the old +gentleman have to say of your tumbling in on him from space without a +'By your leave' or even an 'Excuse me'? Tell me about it." + +I told him enough to allay his curiosity. That was all I thought +necessary,--and he seemed satisfied. Jupp is a good fellow, quite +willing to confine himself to his particular end of the business which +does not include the thinking end. Why should it? + +There was no news--this we soon learned--only some hints of a +contemplated move on the part of the police in a district where some low +characters had been seen dragging along a resisting child of an +unexpectedly refined appearance. As no one could describe this child +and as I had refused from the first to look upon this case as one of +ordinary abduction, I laid little stress on the report, destined though +it was to appear under startling head-lines on the morrow, and startled +my more credulous partner quite out of his usual equanimity, by ordering +him on our arrival at the station to buy me a ticket for ----, as I was +going back to Homewood. + +"To Homewood, so late!" + +"Exactly. It will not be late there--or if it is, anxious hearts make +light sleepers." + +His shoulders rose a trifle, but he bought the ticket. + + + + +VIII + +"PHILO! PHILO! PHILO!" + + +Never have I felt a weirder sensation than when I stepped from the cars +on to the solitary platform from which a few hours before I had seen the +little nursery-governess depart for New York. The train, soon to +disappear in the darkness of the long perspective, was all that gave +life and light to the scene, and when it was gone, nothing remained to +relieve the gloom or to break the universal stillness save the quiet lap +of the water and the moaning of the wind through the trees which climbed +the heights to Homewood. + +I had determined to enter if possible by way of the private path, though +I expected to find it guarded against just such intrusion. In +approaching it I was given a full view of the river and thus was in a +position to note that the dock and adjoining banks were no longer bright +with lanterns in the hands of eager men bending with fixed eyes over the +flowing waters. The search which had kept so many busy at this spot for +well on to two days had been abandoned; and the darkness seemed doubly +dark and the silence doubly oppressive in contrast. + +Yet hope spoke in the abandonment; and with renewed spirit and a more +than lively courage, I turned toward the little gate through which I had +passed twice before that day. As I expected, a silent figure rose up +from the shadows to prevent me; but it fell back at the mention of my +name and business, thus proving the man to be in the confidence of Mrs. +Ocumpaugh or, at the least, in that of Miss Porter. + +"I am come for a social chat with the coachman," I explained. "Lights +burn late in such extensive stables. Don't worry about me. The people at +the house are in sympathy with my investigation." + +Thus we stretch the truth at great crises. + +"I know you," was the answer. "But keep away from the house. Our orders +are imperative to allow no one to approach it again to-night, except +with the child in hand or with such news as would gain instant +admission." + +"Trust me," said I, as I went up the steps. + +It was so dark between the hedge-rows that my ascent became mere +groping. I had a lantern in my pocket which I had taken from Jupp, but I +did not choose to make use of it. I preferred to go on and up, trusting +to my instinct to tell me when I had reached a fresh flight of steps. + +A gleam of light from Mrs. Carew's upper windows was the first +intimation I received that I was at the top of the bank, and in another +moment I was opposite the gap in the hedge opening upon her grounds. + +For no particular reason that I know of, I here paused and took a long +survey of what was, after all, nothing but a cluster of shadows broken +here and there by squares of subdued light. I felt a vague desire to +enter--to see and talk again with the charming woman whose personality +had made such an impression upon me, if only to understand the peculiar +feelings which those indistinguishable walls awakened, and why such a +sense of anticipation should disturb my admiration of this woman and the +delight which I had experienced in every accent of her trained and +exquisite voice. + +I was standing very still and in almost total darkness. The shock, +therefore, was great when, in finally making up my mind to move, I +became conscious of a presence near me, totally indiscernible and as +silent as myself. + +Whose? + +No watchman, or he would have spoken at the rustle I made stumbling back +against the hedge-row. Some marauder, then, or a detective, like myself? +I would not waste time in speculating; better to decide the question at +once, for the situation was eery, the person, whoever he was, stood so +near and so still, and so directly in the way of my advance. + +Drawing the lantern from my pocket, I pushed open the slide and flashed +the light on the immovable figure before me. The face I beheld staring +into mine was one quite unknown to me, but as I took in its expression, +my arm gradually fell, and with it the light from the man's features, +till face and form were lost again in the darkness, leaving in my +disturbed mind naught but an impression; but such an impression! + +The countenance thus flashed upon my vision must have been a haunting +one at any time, but seen as I saw it, at a moment of extreme +self-abandonment, the effect was startling. Yet I had sufficient +control over myself to utter a word or two of apology, which was not +answered, if it was even heard. + +A more exact description may be advisable. The person whom I thus +encountered hesitating before Mrs. Carew's house was a man of meager +build, sloping shoulders and handsome but painfully pinched features. +That he was a gentleman of culture and the nicest refinement was evident +at first glance; that this culture and refinement were at this moment +under the dominion of some fierce thought or resolve was equally +apparent, giving to his look an absorption which the shock attending the +glare I had thus suddenly thrown on his face could not immediately +dispel. + +Dazed by an encounter for which he seemed even less prepared than +myself, he stood with his heart in his face, if I may so speak, and only +gradually came to himself as the sense of my proximity forced itself in +upon his suffering and engrossed mind. When I saw that he had quite +emerged from his dream, I dropped the light. But I did not forget his +look; I did not forget the man, though I hastened to leave him, in my +desire to fulfill the purpose for which I had entered these grounds at +so late an hour. + +My plan was, as I have said, to visit the Ocumpaugh stables and have a +chat with the coachman. I had no doubt of my welcome and not much doubt +of myself. Yet as I left the vicinity of Mrs. Carew's cottage and came +upon the great house of the Ocumpaughs looming in the moonlight above +its marble terraces, I felt impressed as never before both by the beauty +and magnificence of the noble pile, and shrank with something like shame +from the presumption which had led me to pit my wits against a mystery +having its birth in so much grandeur and material power. The prestige of +great wealth as embodied in this superb structure well-nigh awed me from +my task and I was passing the twin pergolas and flower-bordered walks +with hesitating foot, when I heard through one of the open windows a cry +which made me forget everything but our common heritage of sorrow and +the equal hold it has on high and low. + +"Philo!" the voice rang out in a misery to wring the heart of the most +callous. "Philo! Philo!" + +Mr. Ocumpaugh's name called aloud by his suffering wife. Was she in +delirium? It would seem so; but why Philo! always Philo! and not once +Gwendolen? + +With hushed steps, ears ringing and heart palpitating with new and +indefinable sensations, I turned into the road to the stables. + +There were men about and I caught one glimpse of a maid's pretty head +looking from one of the rear windows, but no one stopped me, and I +reached the stable just as a man came sauntering out to take his final +look at the weather. + +It was the fellow I sought, Thomas the coachman. + +I had not miscalculated the nature of my man. In ten minutes we were +seated together on an open balcony, smoking and beguiling the time with +a little harmless gossip. After a free and easy discussion of the great +event, mingled with the naturally-to-be-expected criticism of the +police, we proceeded under my guidance to those particulars for which I +had risked losing this very valuable hour. + +He mentioned Mrs. Ocumpaugh; I mentioned Mrs. Carew. + +"A beautiful woman," I remarked. + +I thought he looked astonished. "_She_ beautiful?" was his doubtful +rejoinder. "What do you think of Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +"She is handsome, too, but in a different way." + +"I should think so. I've driven rich and I've driven poor. I've even sat +on the box in front of an English duchess, but never have I seen such +features as Mrs. Ocumpaugh's. That's why I consent to drive an American +millionaire's wife when I might be driving the English nobility." + +"A statue!" said I; "cold!" + +"True enough, but one you never tire of looking at. Besides, she can +light up wonderfully. I've seen her when she was all a-quiver, and +lovely as the loveliest. And when do you think that was?" + +"When she had her child in her arms." + +I spoke in lowered tones as befitted the suggestion and the +circumstances. + +"No," he drawled, between thoughtful puffs of smoke; "when Mr. Ocumpaugh +sat on the seat beside her. This, when I was driving the victoria. I +often used to make excuse for turning my head about so as to catch a +glimpse of her smile at some fine view and the way she looked up at him +to see if he was enjoying it as much as she. I like women who love their +husbands." + +"And he?" + +"Oh, she has nothing to complain of in him. He worships the ground she +walks on; and he more than worshiped the child." + +Here _his_ voice fell. + +I brought the conversation back as quickly as I could to Mrs. Carew. + +"You like pale women," said I. "Now I like a woman who looks plain one +minute, and perfectly charming the next." + +"That's what people say of Mrs. Carew. I know of lots who admire that +kind. The little girl for one." + +"Gwendolen? Was she attracted to Mrs. Carew?" + +"Attracted? I've seen her go to her from her mother's lap like a bird to +its nest. Many a time have I driven the carriage with Mrs. Ocumpaugh +sitting up straight inside, and her child curled up in this other +woman's arms with not a look or word for her mother." + +"How did Mrs. Ocumpaugh seem to like that?" I asked between puffs of my +cigar. + +"Oh, she's one of the cold ones, you know! At least you say so; but I +feel sure that for the last three years--that is, ever since this woman +came into the neighborhood--her heart has been slowly breaking. This +last blow will kill her." + +I thought of the moaning cry of "Philo! Philo!" which at intervals I +still seemed to hear issue from that upper window in the great house, +and felt that there might be truth in his fears. + +But it was of Mrs. Carew I had come to talk and not of Mrs. Ocumpaugh. + +"Children's fancies are unaccountable," I sententiously remarked; "but +perhaps there is some excuse for this one. Mrs. Carew has what you call +magnetism--a personality which I should imagine would be very appealing +to a child. I never saw such expression in a human face. Whatever her +mood, she impresses each passing feeling upon you as the one reality of +her life. I can not understand such changes, but they are very +fascinating." + +"Oh, they are easy enough to understand in her case. She was an actress +once. I myself have seen her on the stage--in London. I used to admire +her there." + +"An actress!" I repeated, somewhat taken aback. + +"Yes, I forget what name she played under. But she's a very great lady +now; in with all the swells and rich enough to own a yacht if she wanted +to." + +"But a widow." + +"Oh, yes, a widow." + +I let a moment of silence pass, then nonchalantly remarked: + +"Why is she going to Europe?" + +But this was too much for my simple-hearted friend. He neither knew nor +had any conjecture ready. But I saw that he did not deplore her resolve. +His reason for this presently appeared. + +"If the little one is found, the mother will want all her caresses. Let +Mrs. Carew hug the boy that God in his mercy has thrown into her arms +and leave other children to their mothers." + +I rose to leave, when I bethought me and stopped to ask another +question. + +"Who is the gentleman I have seen about here--a man with a handsome +face, but very pale and thin in his appearance, so much so that it is +quite noticeable?" + +"Do you mean Mr. Rathbone?" + +"I do not know his name. A light complexioned man, who looks as if +greatly afflicted by some disease or secret depression." + +"Oh, that is Mr. Rathbone, sure. He is sickly-looking enough and not +without his trouble, too. They say--but it's all gossip, of course--that +he has set his heart on the widow." + +"Mrs. Carew?" + +"Of course, who else?" + +"And she?" + +"Why, she would be a fool to care for him, unless--" + +"Unless what?" + +Thomas laughed--a little uneasily, I could not help thinking. + +"I'm afraid we're talking scandal," said he. "You know the +relationship?" + +"What relationship?" + +"Why, his relationship to the family. He is Gwendolen's cousin and I +have heard it said that he's named after her in Madam Ocumpaugh's +will." + +"O, I see! The next heir, eh?" + +"Yes, to the Rathbone property." + +"So that if she is not found--" + +"Your sickly man, in that case, would be well worth the marrying." + +"Is Mrs. Carew so fond of money as all that? I thought she was a woman +of property." + +"She is; but it takes money to make some men interesting. He isn't +handsome enough, or independent enough to go entirely on his own merits. +Besides, he has a troop of relatives hanging on to him--blood-suckers +who more than eat up his salary." + +"A business man, then?" + +"Yes, in some New York house. He was always very fond of Gwendolen, and +I am not surprised to hear that he is very much cut up by our trouble. I +always thought well of Mr. Rathbone myself,"--which same ended the +conversation so far as my interest in it was concerned. + + + + +IX + +THE BUNGALOW + + +As soon as I could break away and leave him I did, and betook myself to +Mrs. Carew's house. My resolve was taken. Late as it was, I would +attempt an interview with her. The lights still burning above and below +gave me the necessary courage. Yet I was conscious of some embarrassment +in presenting my name to the astonished maid, who was in the act of +extinguishing the hall-light when my vigorous ring prevented her. Seeing +her doubtful look and the hesitation with which she held the door, I +told her that I would wait outside on the porch till she had carried up +my name to Mrs. Carew. This seemed to relieve her and in a moment I was +standing again under the vines waiting for permission to enter the +house. It came very soon, and I had to conquer a fresh embarrassment at +the sight of Mrs. Carew's nimble and gracious figure descending the +stairs in all eagerness to greet me. + +"What is it?" she asked, running hastily forward so that we met in the +center of the hall. "Good news? Nothing else could have brought you back +again so soon--and at an hour so late." + +There was a dangerous naivete in the way she uttered the last three +words which made me suspect the actress. Indeed I was quite conscious as +I met her thrilling and expressive glance, that I should never feel +again the same confidence in her sincerity. My judgment had been +confounded and my insight rendered helpless by what I had heard of her +art, and the fact that she had once been a capable player of "parts." + +But I was man enough and detective enough not to betray my suspicion, +now that I was brought face to face with her. It had always been latent +in my breast, even in the very midst of my greatest admiration for her. +Yet I had never acknowledged to myself of what I suspected her, nor did +I now--not quite--not enough to give that point to my attack which would +have insured me immediate victory or defeat. I was obliged to feel my +way and so answered, with every appearance of friendly confidence: + +"I fear then that I shall be obliged to ask your pardon. I have no good +news; rather what might be called, if not bad, of a very perplexing +character. The child has been traced"--here I purposely let my voice +halt for an instant--"here." + +"Here?" her eyes opened, her lips parted in a look of surprise so +ingenuous that involuntarily I felt forced to add, by way of +explanation: + +"The child, I mean, who was carried screaming along the highway in a +wagon and for whom the police--and others--have for two days been +looking." + +"Oh!" she ejaculated with a slight turn of her head aside as she +motioned me toward a chair. "And is that child Gwendolen? Or don't you +know?" She was all eagerness as she again faced me. + +"That will be known to-morrow," I rejoined, resisting the beautiful +brightness of her face with an effort that must have left its mark on my +own features; for she smiled with unconscious triumph as she held my +eyes for a minute in hers saying softly, "O how you excite me! Tell me +more. Where was the wagon found? Who is with it? And how much of all +this have you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +With the last question she had risen, involuntarily, it seemed, and as +though she would rush to her friend if I did not at once reassure her of +that friend's knowledge of a fact which seemed to throw a gleam of hope +upon a situation hitherto entirely unrelieved. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh has been told nothing," I hastily returned, answering +the last and most important question first. "Nor must she be; at least +not till certainty replaces doubt. She is in a critical state, I am +told. To rouse her hopes to-night only to dash them again to-morrow +would be cruel policy." + +With her eyes still on my face, Mrs. Carew slowly reseated herself. +"Then there are doubts," she faltered; "doubts of its being Gwendolen?" + +"There is always doubt," I replied, and openly paused in manifest +non-committal. + +"Oh!" she somewhat wildly exclaimed, covering her face with her +hands--beautiful hands covered with jewels--"what suspense! what bitter +and cruel suspense! I feel it almost as much as if it were my Harry!" +was the final cry with which she dropped them again. And she did feel +it. Her features had blanched and her form was shaking. "But you have +not answered my questions as to where this wagon is at present and under +whose care? Can't you see how anxious I must be about that--if it should +prove to be Gwendolen?" + +"Mrs. Carew, if I could tell you that, I could tell you more; we shall +both have to wait till to-morrow. Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask. Have +you by any chance the means of entrance to the bungalow? I have a great +and inappeasable desire to see for myself if all the nooks and corners +of that place have given up their secrets. It's an egotistical desire, +no doubt--and may strike you as folly of the rankest--but we detectives +have learned to trust nobody in our investigations, and I shall never be +satisfied till I have looked this whole spot over inch by inch for the +clue which may yet remain there. If there is a clue I must find it." + +"Clue?" She was looking at me a little breathlessly. "Clue to what? Then +she wasn't in the wagon; you are still seeking her--" + +"Always seeking her," I put in. + +"But surely not in the bungalow!" Mrs. Carew's expression was one of +extreme surprise. "What can you find there?" + +"I do not know. But I want to look. I can go to the house for a key, but +it is late; and it seems unpardonable to disturb Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Yet I +shall have to do this if you have not a key; for I shall not sleep till +I have satisfied myself that nothing can be discovered on the immediate +scene of Gwendolen's disappearance, to help forward the rescue we both +are so intent upon." + +"You are right," was the hesitating reply I received. "I have a key; I +will fetch it and if you do not mind, I will accompany you to the +bungalow." + +"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," I replied with my best bow; +white lies come easy in our trade. + +"I will not keep you a minute," she said, rising and going into the +hall. But in an instant she was back. "A word to my maid and a covering +for my head," she explained, "and I will be with you." Her manner +pointed unmistakably to the door. + +I had no alternative but to step out on the porch to await her. But she +was true to her word and in a moment she had joined me, with the key in +her hand. + +"Oh, what adventures!" was her breathless cry. "Shall I ever forget this +dreadful, this interminable week! But it is dark. Even the moon is +clouded over. How shall we see? There are no lights in the bungalow." + +"I have a lantern in my pocket. My only hope is that no stray gleam from +it may pierce the shrubbery and bring the police upon us." + +"Do you fear the police?" she chatted away, almost as a child might. + +"No; but I want to do my work alone. There will be little glory or +little money in it if they share any of my discoveries." + +"Ah!" It was an irrepressible exclamation, or so it seemed: but I should +not have noted it if I had not caught, or persuaded myself that I had +caught, the oblique glint from her eye which accompanied it. But it was +very dark just at this time and I could be sure of nothing but that she +kept close to my side and seemed more than once on the point of +addressing me in the short distance we traversed before reaching the +bungalow. But nothing save inarticulate murmurs left her lips and soon +we were too busy, in our endeavors to unlock the door, to think of +conversation. + +The key she had brought was rusty. Evidently she had not often made use +of it. But after a few futile efforts I succeeded in making it work, and +we stepped into the small building in a silence that was only less +profound than the darkness in which we instantly found ourselves +enveloped. Light was under my hand, however, and in another moment there +opened before us the small square room whose every feature had taken on +a ghostly and unfamiliar air from the strange hour and the unwonted +circumstances. I saw how her impressionable nature was affected by the +scene, and made haste to assume the offhand air I thought most likely to +overcome her apprehension. But the effect of the blank walls before her, +relieved, but in no reassuring way, by the long dark folds of the rugs +hanging straight down over the mysterious partition, held its own +against my well-meant efforts, and I was not surprised to hear her voice +falter as she asked what I expected to find there. + +I pointed to a chair and said: + +"If you will sit down, I will show you, not what I expect to find, but +how a detective goes about his work. Whatever our expectations, however +small or however great, we pay full attention to details. Now the detail +which has worried me in regard to this place is the existence of a +certain space in this building unaccounted for by these four walls; in +other words, the portion which lies behind these rugs,"--and throwing +aside the same, I let the flame from my lantern play over the walled-up +space which I had before examined with little satisfaction. "This +partition," I continued, "seems as firm as any of the walls, but I want +to make sure that it hides nothing. If the child should be in some hole +back of this partition, what a horror and what an outrage!" + +"But it is impossible!" came almost in a shriek from the woman behind +me. "The opening is completely walled up. I have never known of its +being otherwise. It looked like that when I came here three years ago. +There is no possible passage through that wall." + +"Why was it ever closed up? Do you know?" + +"Not exactly. The family are very reticent about it. Some fancy of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's father, I believe. He was an odd man; they tell all manner +of stories about him. If anything offended him, he rid himself of it +immediately. He took a distaste to that end of the hut, as they used to +call it in the old days before it was remodeled to suit the house, so he +had it walled up. That is all we know about it." + +"I wish I could see behind that wall," I muttered, dropping back the rug +I had all this time held in my hand. "I feel some mystery here which I +can not grasp." Then as I flashed my lantern about in every direction +with no visible result, added with the effort which accompanies such +disappointments: "There is nothing here, Mrs. Carew. Though it is the +scene of the child's disappearance it gives me nothing." + + + + +X + +TEMPTATION + + +The sharp rustle of her dress as she suddenly rose struck upon my ear. + +"Then let us go," she cried, with just a slight quiver of eagerness in +her wonderful voice. I comprehended its culture now. "The place is +ghostly at this hour of the night. I believe that I am really afraid." + +With a muttered reassurance, I allowed the full light of the lantern to +fall directly on her face. She _was_ afraid. There was no other +explanation possible for her wild staring eyes and blue quivering lips. +For the instant I hardly knew her; then her glance rose to mine and she +smiled and it was with difficulty I refrained from acknowledging in +words my appreciation of her wonderful flexibility of expression. + +"You are astonished to see me so affected," she said. "It is not so +strange as you think--it is superstition--the horror of what once +happened here--the reason for that partition--I know the whole story, +for all my attempts to deny it just now. The hour, too, is +unfortunate--the darkness--your shifting, mysterious light. It was late +like this--and dark--with just the moon to illumine the scene, when +she--Mr. Trevitt, do you want to know the story of this place?--the old, +much guessed-at, never-really-understood story which led first to its +complete abandonment, then to the building of that dividing wall and +finally to the restoration of this portion and of this alone? Do you?" + +Her eagerness, in such startling contrast to the reticence she had shown +on this very subject a few minutes before, affected me peculiarly. I +wanted to hear the story--any one would who had listened to the gossip +of this neighborhood for years, but-- + +She evidently did not mean to give me time to understand my own +hesitation. + +"I have the whole history--the touching, hardly-to-be-believed +history--up at my house at this very moment. It was written by--no, I +will let you guess." + +The naivete of her smile made me forget the force of its late +expression. + +"Mr. Ocumpaugh?" I ventured. + +"Which Mr. Ocumpaugh? There have been so many." She began slowly, +naturally, to move toward the door. + +"I can not guess." + +"Then I shall have to tell you. It was written by the one who--Come! I +will tell you outside. I haven't any courage here." + +"But I have." + +"You haven't read the story." + +"Never mind; tell me who the writer was." + +"Mr. Ocumpaugh's father; he, by whose orders this partition was put up." + +"Oh, you have _his_ story--written--and by himself! You are fortunate, +Mrs. Carew." + +I had turned the lantern from her face, but not so far that I did not +detect the deep flush which dyed her whole countenance at these words. + +"I am," she emphatically returned, meeting my eyes with a steady look I +was not sufficiently expert with women's ways, or at all events with +this woman's ways, to understand. "Seldom has such a tale been +written--seldom, let us thank God, has there been an equal occasion for +it." + +"You interest me," I said. + +And she did. Little as this history might have to do with the finding of +Gwendolen, I felt an almost imperative necessity of satisfying my +curiosity in regard to it, though I knew she had deliberately roused +this curiosity for a purpose which, if not comprehensible to me, was of +marked importance to her and not altogether for the reason she had been +pleased to give me. Possibly it was on account of this last mentioned +conviction that I allowed myself to be so interested. + +"It is late," she murmured with a final glance towards those dismal +hangings which in my present mood I should not have been so greatly +surprised to see stir under her look. "However, if you will pardon the +hour and accept a seat in my small library, I will show you what only +one other person has seen besides myself." + +It was a temptation; for several reasons it was a temptation; yet-- + +"I want you to see why I am frightened of this place," she said, +flashing her eyes upon me with an almost girlish appeal. + +"I will go," said I; and following her quickly out, I locked the +bungalow door, and ignoring the hand she extended toward me, dropped the +key into my pocket. + +I thought I heard a little gasp--the least, the smallest of sounds +possible. But if so, the feeling which prompted it was not apparent in +her manner or her voice as she led the way back to her house, and +ushered me into a hall full of packing-boxes and the general litter +accompanying an approaching departure. + +"You will excuse the disorder," she cried as she piloted me through +these various encumbrances to a small but exquisitely furnished room +still glorying in its full complement of ornaments and pictures. "This +trouble which has come to one I love has made it very hard for me to do +anything. I feel helpless, at times, completely helpless." + +The dejection she expressed was but momentary, however. In another +instant she was pointing out a chair and begging me to make myself +comfortable while she went for the letter (I think she called it a +letter) which I had come there to read. + +What was I to think of her? What was I to think of myself? And what +would the story tell me to warrant the loss of what might have proved a +most valuable hour? I had not answered these questions when she +reentered with a bundle in her hand of discolored--I should almost call +them mouldered--sheets of much crumpled paper. + +"These--" she began; then, seeing me look at them with something like +suspicion, she paused until she caught my eye, when she added gravely, +"these came to me from Mrs. Ocumpaugh. How she got them you will have to +ask her. I should say, judging from appearances--" Here she took a seat +opposite me at a small table near which I had been placed--"that they +must have been found in some old chest or possibly in some hidden drawer +of one of those curious antique desks of which more than one was +discovered in the garrets of the old house when it was pulled down to +give place to the new one." + +"Is this letter, as you call it, so old?" I asked. + +"It is dated thirty-five years ago." + +"The garret must have been a damp one," I remarked. + +She flashed me a look--I thought of it more than once afterward--and +asked if she should do the reading or I. + +"You," I rejoined, all afire with the prospect of listening to her +remarkable voice in what I had every reason to believe would call forth +its full expression. "Only let me look at those sheets first, and +understand as perfectly as I may, just what it is you are going to read +to me." + +"It's an explanation written for his heirs by Mr. Ocumpaugh. The story +itself," she went on, handing me over the papers she held, "begins +abruptly. From the way the sheet is torn across at the top, I judge that +the narrative itself was preceded by some introductory words now +lacking. When I have read it to you, I will tell you what I think those +introductory words were." + +I handed back the sheets. There seemed to be a spell in the +air--possibly it arose from her manner, which was one to rouse +expectation even in one whose imagination had not already been stirred +by a visit at night and in more than commonly bewildering company to the +place whose dark and hitherto unknown secret I was about to hear. + +"I am ready," I said, feeling my strange position, but not anxious to +change it just then for any other conceivable one. + +She drew a deep breath; again fixed me with her strange, compelling +eyes, and with the final remark: + +"The present no longer exists, we are back in the seventies--" began +this enthralling tale. + +I did not move till the last line dropped from her lips. + + + + +XI + +THE SECRET OF THE OLD PAVILION + + +I was as sane that night as I had ever been in my life. I am quite sure +of this, though I had had a merry time enough earlier in the evening +with my friends in the old pavilion (that time-honored retreat of my +ancestors), whose desolation I had thought to dissipate with a little +harmless revelry. Wine does not disturb my reason--the little wine I +drank under that unwholesome roof--nor am I a man given to sudden +excitements or untoward impulses. + +Yet this thing happened to me. + +It was after leaving the pavilion. My companions had all ridden away and +I was standing on the lawn beyond my library windows, recalling my +pleasure with them and gazing somewhat idly, I own, at that bare portion +of the old wall where the tree fell a year ago (the place where the moon +strikes with such a glitter when it rides high, as it did that night), +when--believe it or not, it is all one to me--I became conscious of a +sudden mental dread, inexplicable and alarming, which, seizing me after +an hour of unmixed pleasure and gaiety, took such a firm grip upon my +imagination that I fain would have turned my back upon the night and its +influences, only my eyes would not leave that open space of wall where I +now saw pass--not the shadow, but the veritable body of a large, black, +hungry-looking dog, which, while I looked, turned into the open gateway +connecting with the pavilion and disappeared. + +With it went the oppression which held me spell-bound. The ice melted +from my blood; I could move my limbs, and again control my thoughts and +exercise my will. + +Forcing a laugh, I whistled to that dog. The lights with which the +banquet had been illuminated were out, and every servant had left the +place; but the tables had not been entirely cleared, and I could well +understand what had drawn this strange animal thither. I whistled then, +and whistled peremptorily; but no dog answered my call. Angry, for the +rules are strict at my stables in regard to wandering brutes, I strode +toward the pavilion. Entering the great gap in the wall where a gate had +once hung, I surveyed the dismal interior before me, with feelings I +could not but consider odd in a strong man like myself. Though the wine +was scarcely dry in the glass which an hour before I had raised in this +very spot amid cheers and laughter, I found it a difficult matter to +reenter there now, in the dead of night, alone and without light. + +For this building, harmless as it had always seemed, had been, in a way, +cursed. For no reason that he ever gave, my father had doomed this +ancient adjunct to our home to perpetual solitude and decay. By his will +he had forbidden it to be destroyed--a wish respected by my guardians +and afterward by myself--and though there was nothing to hinder its +being cared for and in a manner used, the dismal influence which had +pervaded the place ever since his death had, under the sensations I have +mentioned, deepened into horror and an unspeakable repugnance. + +Yet never having had any reason to believe myself a coward, I took +boldly enough the few steps necessary to carry me inside its dismal +precincts; and meeting with nothing but darkness and silence, began to +whistle again for the dog I had certainly seen enter here. + +But no dog appeared. + +Hastening out, I took my way toward the stables. As I did so I glanced +back, and again my eyes fell on that place in the wall gleaming white in +the moonlight. Again I felt the chill, the horror! Again my eyes +remained glued to this one spot; and again I beheld the passing of that +dog, running with jaws extended and head held low--fearsome, uncanny, +supernaturally horrible; a thing to flee from, if one could only flee +instead of standing stock-still on the sward, gazing with eyes that +seemed starting from their sockets till it had plunged through that gap +in the wall and again disappeared. + +The occult and the imaginary have never appealed to me, and the moment I +felt myself a man again, I hurried on to the stables to call up my man +Jared. + +But half-way there I paused, struck by an odd remembrance. This father +of mine, Philo Ocumpaugh, had died, or so his old servants had said, +under peculiar circumstances. I had forgotten them till now--such +stories make poor headway with me--but if I was not mistaken, the facts +were these: + +He had been ailing long, and his nurses had got used to the sight of his +gaunt, white figure sitting propped up, but speechless, in the great bed +opposite the stretch of blank wall in the corner bedroom, where a +picture of his first wife, the wife of his youth, had once hung, but +which, for some years now, had been removed to where there were fewer +shadows and more sunlight. He had never been a talkative man, and in all +the five years of my own memory of him, I had never heard him raise his +voice except in command, or when the duties of hospitality required it. +Now, with the shadow of death upon him, he was absolutely speechless, +and his nurses were obliged to guess at his wishes by the movement of +his hands or the direction of his eyes. Yet he was not morose, and +sometimes was seen to struggle with the guards holding his tongue, as +though he would fain have loosed himself from their inexorable control. +Yet he never succeeded in doing so, and the nurses sat by and saw no +difference in him, till suddenly the candle, posed on a table near by, +flickered and went out, leaving only moonlight in the room. It was +moonlight so brilliant that the place seemed brighter than before, +though the beams were all concentrated on one spot, a blank space in the +middle of the wall upon which those two dim orbs in the bed were fixed +in an expectancy none there understood, for none knew that the summons +had come, and that for him the angel of death was at that moment +standing in the room. + +Yet as moonlight is not the natural light for a sick man's bedside, one +amongst them had risen for another candle, when something--I had never +stopped to hear them say what--made him pause and look back, when he saw +distinctly outlined upon the white wall-space I have mentioned, the +figure--the unimaginable figure of a dog, large, fierce and +hungry-looking, which dashed by and--was gone. Simultaneously a cry came +from the bed, the first words for months--"Aline!"--the name of his +girl-wife, dead and gone for years. All sprang; some to chase the dog, +one to aid and comfort the sick man. But no dog was there, nor did he +need comfort more. He had died with that cry on his lips, and as they +gazed at his face, sunk low now in his pillow as if he had started up +and fallen back, a dead weight, they felt the terror of the moment grow +upon them till they, too, were speechless. For the aged features were +drawn into lines of unspeakable anguish and horror. + +But as the night passed and morning came, all these lines smoothed out, +and when they buried him, those who had known him well talked of the +beautiful serenity which illumined the face which, since their first +remembrance of him, had carried the secret of a profound and unbroken +melancholy. Of the dog, nothing was said, even in whispers, till time +had hallowed that grave, and the little children about, grown to be men +and women. Then the garrulity of age had its way. + +This story, and the images it called up, came like a shock as I halted +there, and instead of going on to the stables, I turned my steps toward +the house, where I summoned from his bed a certain old servant who had +lived longer in the family than myself. + +Bidding him bring a lantern, I waited for him on the porch, and when he +came, I told him what I had seen. Instantly I knew that it was no new +story to him. He turned very pale and set down the lantern, which was +shaking very visibly in his hand. + +"Did you look up?" he asked; "when you were in the pavilion, I mean?" + +"No; why should I? The dog was on the ground. Besides--" + +"Let us go down to the pavilion," he whispered. "I want to see for +myself if--if--" + +"If what, Jared?" + +He turned his eyes on me, but did not answer. Stooping, I lifted the +lantern and put it in his hand. He was quaking like a leaf, but there +was a determination in his face far beyond the ordinary. What made him +quake--he who knew of this dog only by hearsay--and what, in spite of +this fear, gave him such resolution? I followed in his wake to see what +it was. + +The moon still shone clear upon the lawn, and it was with a certain +renewal of my former apprehensions that I approached the spot on the +wall where I had seen what I was satisfied not to see again. But though +I glanced that way--what man could have avoided it?--I perceived nothing +but the bare paint, and we went on and passed in without a word, Jared +leading the way. + +But once on the threshold of the pavilion itself, it was for him to show +the coward. Turning, he made me a gesture; one I did not understand; and +seeing that I did not understand it, he said, after a fearful look +around: + +"Do not mind the dog; that was but an appearance. Lift your eyes to the +ceiling--over there--at the extreme end toward the south--do you +see--_what_ do you see?" + +"Nothing," I replied, amazed at what struck me as utter folly. + +"Nothing?" he repeated in a relieved voice, as he lifted up his lantern. +"Ah!" came in a sort of muttered shriek from his lips, as he pointed up, +here and there, along the farther ceiling, over which the light now +played freely and fully. "What is that spot, and that spot, and that? +They were not there to-day. I was in here before the banquet, and _I_ +would have seen. What is it? Master, what is it? They call it--" + +"Well, well, what do they call it?" I asked impatiently. + +"Blood! Do you not see that it is blood? What else is red and shiny and +shows in such great drops--" + +"Nonsense!" I vociferated, taking the lantern in my own hand. "Blood on +the ceiling of my old pavilion? Where could it come from? There was no +quarrel, no fight; only hilarity--" + +"Where did the dog come from?" he whispered. + +I dropped my arm, staring at him in mingled anger and a certain +half-understood sympathy. + +"You think these stains--" I began. + +"Are as unreal as the dog? Yes, master." + +Feeling as if I were in a dream, I tossed up the lantern again. The +drops were still there, but no longer single or scattered. From side to +side, the ceiling at this one end of the building oozed with the thick +red moisture to which he had given so dreadful a name. + +Stepping back for fear the stains would resolve themselves into rain and +drop upon my forehead, I stared at Jared, who had now retreated toward +the door. + +"What makes you think it blood?" I demanded. + +"Because some have smelt and tasted it. We have never talked about it, +but this is not an uncommon occurrence. To-morrow all these stains will +be gone. They come when the dog circles the wall. Whence, no one knows. +It is our mystery. All the old servants have heard of it more than once. +The new ones have never been told. Nor would I have told you if you had +not seen the dog. It was a matter of honor with us." + +I looked at him, saw that he believed every word he said, threw another +glance at the ceiling, and led the way out. When we had reached the +house again, I said: + +"You are acquainted with the tradition underlying these appearances, as +you call them. What is it?" + +He could not tell me. He knew no more than he had already stated--gossip +and old wives' tales. But later, a certain manuscript came into my +possession through my lawyer, which I will append to this. + +It was written by my unhappy father, some little time before his last +illness, and given into the charge of the legal representative of our +family, with the express injunction that its seal was to remain intact +if for twenty years the apparition which had haunted him did not present +itself to the eyes of any of his children. But if within that time his +experience should repeat itself in theirs, this document was to be +handed over to the occupant of Homewood. Nineteen out of the twenty +years had elapsed, without the dog being seen or the ceiling of the +pavilion dropping blood. But not the twentieth; hence, the document was +mine. + +You can easily conceive with what feelings I opened it. It was headed +with this simple line: + +MY STORY WHICH I CAN WRITE BUT COULD NEVER TELL. + +I am cursed with an inability to speak when I am most deeply moved, +either by anger or tenderness. This misfortune has wrecked my life. On +the verge of old age, the sorrows and the mistakes of my early life fill +my thoughts so completely that I see but one face, hear but one voice; +yet when she was living--when _she_ could see and hear, my tongue was +silent and she never knew. Aline! my Aline! + +I married her when I was thirty-five and she eighteen. All the world +knows this; but what it does not know is that I loved her--toy, +plaything that she was--a body without a mind--(or, so I considered +her)--while she had but followed the wishes of her relatives in giving +her sweet youth to a cold and reticent man who might love, indeed, but +who had no power to tell that love, or even to show it in the ways which +women like, and which she liked, as I found out when it was too late. + +I could not help but love her. It was ingrained within me; a part of the +curse of my life to love this gentle, thoughtless, alluring thing to +which I had given my name. She had a smile--it did not come often--which +tore at my heart-strings as it welled up, just stirring the dimples in +her cheeks, and died away again in a strange and moving sweetness. +Though I reckoned her at her worth; knew that her charm was all +physical; that she neither did nor could understand a passion like mine, +much less return it, it was none the less irresistible, and I have known +myself to stand before a certain book-shelf in the turn of the stairway +for many minutes together, because I knew that she would soon be coming +down, and that, when she did, some ribbon from her gown would flutter by +me, and I should feel the soft contact and go away happy to my books. +Yet, if she stopped to look back at me, I could only return her look +with one she doubtless called harsh, for she had not eyes to see below +the surface. + +I tell you all this, lest you may not understand. She was not your +mother and you may begrudge me the affection I felt for her; if so, +thrust these leaves into the fire and seek not the explanation of what +has surprised you; for there is no word written here which does not find +its meaning in the intense love I bore for her, my young girl-wife, and +the tragedy which this love has brought into my life. She was slight in +body, slight in mind and of slight feeling. I first discovered this last +on the day I put my mother's ring on her finger. She laughed as I fitted +it close and kissed the little hand. Not from embarrassment or childish +impulse; I could have understood that; but indifferently, like one who +did not know and never could. Yet I married her, and for six months +lived in a fool's paradise. Then came that hall. It was held near here, +very near, at one of our neighbor's, in fact. I remember that we walked, +and that, coming to the driveway, I lifted her and carried her across. +Not with a smile--do not think it. More likely with a frown, though my +heart was warm and happy; for when I set her down, she shook herself, +and I thought she did it to hide a shudder, and then I could not have +spoken a word had my life depended on it. + +I little knew what lay back of that shudder. Even after I had seen her +dance with him, not only once, but twice, I never dreamed that her +thoughts, light though they were, were not all with me. It took that +morsel of paper and the plain words it contained to satisfy me of this, +and then-- But passion is making me incoherent. What do you know of that +scrap of paper, hidden from the whole world from the moment I first read +it till this hour of full confession? It fluttered from some one's hand +during the dance. I did not see whose. I only saw it after it had fallen +at my feet, and as it lay there open I naturally read the words. They +were written by a man to a woman, urging flight and setting the hour +and place for meeting. I was conscious of shame in reading it, and let +these last details escape me. As I put it in my pocket I remember +thinking, "Some poor devil made miserable!" for there had been hint in +it of the husband. But I had no thought--I swear it before God--of who +that husband was till I beheld her flit back through the open doorway, +with terror in her mien and searching eyes fixed on the floor. Then hell +opened before me, and I saw my happiness go down into gulfs I had never +before sounded, even in imagination. + +But even at that evil hour my countenance scarcely changed--I was +opposite a mirror, and I caught a glimpse of myself as I moved. But +there must have been some change in my voice--for when I addressed her, +she started and turned her face upon me with a wild and pathetic look +which knocked so at my heart that I wished I had never read those words, +and so could return her the paper with no misgiving as to its contents. +But having read it, I could not do this; so, beyond a petty greeting, I +said nothing and let the moment pass, and she with it; for couples were +dancing and she was soon again in the whirl. I am not a dancing man +myself, and I had leisure to think and madden myself with contemplation +of my wrecked life and questions as to what I should do to her and to +him, and to the world where such things could happen. I had forgotten +the details of time and place, or rather had put them out of my mind, +and I would not look at the words again--could not. But as the minutes +went by, the remembrance returned, startling and convincing, that the +hour was two and the place--our old pavilion. + +I walked about after that like a man in whose breast the sources of life +are frozen. I chatted--I who never chatted--with women, and with men. I +even smiled--once. That was when my little white-faced wife asked me if +it were not time to go home. Even a man under torture might find +strength to smile if the inquisitor should ask if he were not ready to +be released. + +And we went home. + +I did not carry her this time across the driveway; but when we parted in +the library, where I always spent an hour before retiring, I picked out +a lily from a vase of flowers standing on my desk and held it out to +her. She stared at it for a moment, quite as white as the lily, then she +slowly put out her hand and took it. I felt no mercy after that, and +bade her good-night with the remark that I should have to write far into +the morning, and that she need not worry over my light, which I should +not probably put out till she was half through with her night's rest. + +For answer, she dropped the lily. I found it next morning lying withered +and brown, in the hall-way. + +That light did burn far into the morning; but I was not there to trim +it. Before the fatal hour had struck, I had left the house and made my +way to the pavilion. As I crossed the sward I saw the gleam of a lantern +at the masthead of a small boat riding near our own landing-place, and I +understood where he was at this hour, and by what route he hoped to take +my darling. "A route she will never travel," thought I, striving to keep +out of my mind and conscience the vision of another route, another +travel, which that sweet young body might take if my mood held and my +purpose strengthened. + +There was no moon that night, and the copse in which our pavilion stands +was like a blot against the starless heavens. As I drew near it, my dog, +the invariable companion of my walks, lifted a short, sharp bark from +the stables. But I knew whose hand had fastened him, and I went on +without giving him a thought. At the door of the pavilion I stopped. All +was dark within as without, and the silence was something to overwhelm +the heart. She was not there then, nor was he. But he would be coming +soon, and up or down between the double hedge-rows. + +I went to meet him. It was a small detail, but possibly a necessary one. +In her eyes he was probably handsome and gifted with all that I openly +lacked. But he was shallow and small for a man like me to be concerned +about. I laughed inwardly and with very conceivable scorn as I heard the +faint fall of his footsteps in the darkness. It was nearly two and he +meant to be prompt. + +Our coming together in that narrow path was very much what I expected it +to be. I had put out my arms and touched the hedge on either side, so +that he could not escape me. When I heard him drawing close, I found +the voice I had not had for her, and observed very quietly and with the +cold politeness of a messenger: + +"My wife finds herself indisposed since the ball, and begs to be excused +from joining you in the pleasant sail you proposed to her." + +That, and no more; except that when he started and almost fell into my +arms, I found strength to add: + +"The wind blows fresh to-night; you will have no difficulty in leaving +this shore. The difficulty will be to return." + +I had no heart to kill him; he was young and he was frightened. I heard +the sob in his throat as I dropped my arm and he went flying down to the +river. + +This was child's play; the rest-- + +My portion is to tell it; forty years ago it all befell, and till now no +word of it has ever left my lips. + +There was no sound of her advancing tread across the lawn as I stepped +back into my own grounds to enter the pavilion. But as I left the path +and put foot inside the wall, I heard a far, faint sound like the harsh +closing of a door in timid hands, followed by another bark from the +dog, louder and sharper than the first--for he did not recognize my +Aline as mistress, though I had striven for six months to teach him the +place she held in my heart. + +By this I knew she was coming, and that what preparations I had to make +must be made soon. They were not many. Entering the well-known place, I +lit the lantern I had brought with me and set it down near the door. It +cast a feeble light about the entrance, but left great shadows in the +rear. This I had calculated on, and into these shadows I now stepped. + +The pavilion, as you remember it, is not what it was then. I had used it +little, fancying more my own library up at the house, but it was not +utterly without furnishings, and to young eyes might even look +attractive, with love, or fancied love, to mellow its harsh lines and +lend romance to its solitude. At this hour and under these circumstances +it was a dismal hole to me; and as I stood there waiting, I thought how +the place fitted the deed--if deed it was to be. + +I had always thought her timid, afraid of the night and all threatening +things. But as I listened to the sound of her soft footfall at the door, +I realized that even her breast could grow strong under the influence of +a real or fancied passion. It was a shock--but I did not cry out--only +set my teeth together and turned a little so that what light there was +would fall on my form rather than on my face. + +She entered; I felt rather than heard the tremulous push she gave to the +door, and the quick drawing in of her breath as she put her foot across +the threshold. These sapped my courage. This fear, this almost +hesitation, drew me from thoughts of myself to thoughts of her, and it +was in a daze of mingled purposes and regrets that I felt her at last at +my side. + +"Walter!" fell softly, doubtfully from her lips. + +It was the name of him the dip of whose oars as he made for his boat I +could now faintly hear in the river below us. + +Turning, I looked her in the face. + +"You are late," said I. God gave me words in my extremity. "Walter has +gone." Then, as the madness of terror replaced love in her eyes, I +lifted her forcibly and carried her to the window, where I drew aside +the vines. "That is his boat's lantern you see drawing away from the +dock. I bade him God-speed. He will not come again." + +Without a word she looked, then fell back on my arm. It was not life +which forsook her face, and left her whole sweet body inert--that I +could have borne, for did she not merit death who had killed my love, +killed me?--but happiness, the glow of youthful blood, the dreams of a +youthful brain. And seeing this, seeing that the heart I thought a +child's heart had gone down in this shipwreck, I felt my anger swell and +master me body and soul, and before I knew it, I was towering over her +and she was cowering at my feet, crushed and with hands held up in +defense, hands that had been like rose-leaves in my grasp, futile hands, +but raised now in entreaty for her life to me, to me who had loved her. + +Why did they not move me? Why did my muscles tighten instead of relax? I +do not know; I had never thought myself a cruel man, but at that instant +I felt that this toy of my strong manhood had done harm far beyond its +value, and that it would comfort me to break it and toss it far aside; +only I could not bear the cry which now left her lips: + +"I am so young! not yet, not yet, Philo! I am so young! Let me live a +little while." + +Was it a woman's plea, conscious of the tenderness she appealed to, or +only a child's instinctive grasping after life, just life? If it were +the first, it would be easy to finish; but a child's terror, a child's +longing--that pulled hard at my manhood, and under the possibility, my +own arm fell. + +Instantly her head drooped. No defense did she utter; no further plea +did she make; she simply waited. + +"You have deserved death." This I managed to utter. "But if you will +swear to obey me, you shall not pay your forfeit till you have had a +further taste of life. Not in my house; there is not sufficient freedom +within its walls for you; but in the broad world, where people dance and +sing and grow old at their leisure, without duty and without care. For +three months you shall have this, and have it to your heart's content. +Then you shall come back to me my true wife, if your heart so prompts; +if not, to tell me of your failure and quit me for ever. But--" Here I +fear my voice grew terrible, for her hands instinctively rose again. +"Those three months must be lived unstained. As you are in God's sight +this hour, I demand of you to swear that, if you forget this or +disregard it, or for any cause subject my name to dishonor, that you +will return unbidden at the first moment your reason returns to you, to +take what punishment I will. On this condition I send you away to-night. +Aline, will you promise?" + +She did not answer; but her face rose. I did not understand its look. +There was pathos in it, and something else. That something else troubled +me. + +"Are you dissatisfied?" I asked. "Is the time too short? Do you want +more months for dancing?" + +She shook her head and the little hands rose again: + +"Do not send me away," she faintly entreated; "I don't know why--but +I--had rather stay." + +"With me? Impossible. Are you ready to promise, Aline?" + +Then she rose and looked me in the eye with courage, almost with +resolution. + +"As I live!" said she. + +And I knew she would keep her word. + +The next thing I remember of that night was the sight of her little +white, shivering figure looking out at me from the carriage that was to +carry her away. The night was cold, and I had tucked her in with as much +care as I might have done the evening before, when I still worshiped +her, still thought her mine, or at least as much mine as she was any +one's. When I had done this and pressed a generous gift into her hand, I +stood a minute at the carriage door, in pity of her aspect. She looked +so pinched and pale, so dazed and hopeless. Had she been alone--but the +companion with whom I had provided her was at her side and my tongue was +tied. I turned, and the driver started up the horses. + +"Philo!" I heard blown by me on the wind. + +Was it she who called? No, for there was anguish in the cry, the anguish +of a woman, and she was only a frightened, disheartened child whom I had +sent away to--dance. + +One month, two months went by, and I began to take up my life. Another, +and she would be home for good or ill. I thought that I could live +through that other. I had heard of her; not from her--that I did not +require; and the stories were all of the same character. She was +enjoying life in the great city to which I had sent her; radiant at +night, if a little spiritless by day. She was at balls, at concerts and +at theaters. She wore jewels and shone with the best; I might be proud +of her conquests and the sweetness and dignity with which she bore +herself. Thus her friends wrote. + +But she wrote nothing; I had not required it. Once, some one--a visitor +at the house--spoke of having seen her. "She was surrounded with +admirers," he had said. "How early our American women ripen!" was his +comment. "She held her head like one who has held sway for years; but I +thought her a trifle worn; as if pleasure absorbed too much of her +sleep. You must look out for her, Judge." + +And I smiled grimly enough, I own, to think just how I was looking out +for her. + +Then came the thunderbolt. + +"I am told that no one ever sees her in the day-time; that she is +always busy, days. But she does not look as if she took that time for +rest. What can your little wife be doing? You ought to hurry up that +important opinion of yours and go see." + +He was right; what was she doing? And why shouldn't I go see? There was +no obstacle but my own will; but that is the greatest obstacle a man can +have. I remained at Homewood, but the four weeks of our further +probation looked like a year. + +Meanwhile, I had my way with the pavilion. I have shown you my heart, +sometimes at its best, oftenest at its worst. I will show it to you +again in this. I had a wall built round it, close against the thicket in +which it lay embedded. This wall was painted white, and near it I had +lamps placed which were lit at nightfall. Should a figure pass that wall +I could see it from my window. No one could enter that doorway now, +without running the risk of my seeing him from where I sat at my desk. + +Did I feel easier? I do not know that I did. I merely followed an +impulse I dared not name to myself. + +Two weeks of this final month went by. Then (it was in the evening) some +one came running up from the grounds, with the message that Mrs. +Ocumpaugh had ridden into the gate, but that she was not ready to enter +the house. Would I meet her at the pavilion? + +I was in the library, at my desk, with my eyes on the wall, when this +was told me. I had just seen the fierce figure of that unmanageable dog +of mine run by that white surface, and my lips were open to order him +tied up, when he, and everything else in this whole world, was forgotten +in this crushing news of her return. For the three months were not up +and her presence here could mean but one thing--she had found temptation +too much for her, and she had come back to tell me so in obedience to +her promise. + +"I will go meet Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I said. + +The man stared. + +"I will go meet Mrs. Ocumpaugh now," I repeated, and tried to rise. + +But my limbs refused; death had entered my heart, and it was some few +minutes before I found myself upon the lawn outside. + +When I got there I was trembling and so uncertain of movement that I +tottered at the gate. But seeing signs of her presence within, I +straightened myself and went in. + +[Illustration: "I SHOULD NOT HAVE KNOWN THE WOMAN WHO STOOD THERE WITH +MY NAME FORMED ON HER LIPS."] + +She was standing at the extreme end of the room when I entered, in the +full light of the solitary moonbeam which shot in at the western +casement. She had thrown aside her hat and coat, and never in all my +life had I seen anything so ethereal as the worn face and wasted form +she thus disclosed. Had it not been for the haunting and pathetic smile +which by some freak of fate gave poignancy to her otherwise infantile +beauty, I should not have known the woman who stood there with my name +formed on her lips. + +"Destroyed!" was my thought; and the rage which I felt that moment +against fate flushed my whole being, and my arms went up, not in threat +against her, but to an avenging Heaven, when I heard an impetuous rush, +an angry growl, and the delicate, trembling figure went down under the +leap of the monstrous animal which I had taught to love me, but could +never teach to love her. + +In horror and unspeakable anguish of soul I called off the dog; and, +stooping with bitter cries, I took her in my arms. + +"Hurt?" I gasped. "Hurt, Aline?" I looked at her anxiously. + +"No," she whispered, "happy." And before I realized my own feelings or +the passion with which I drew her to my breast, she had nestled her head +against my heart, smiled and died. + +The shock of the dog's onslaught had killed her. + +I would not believe it at first, but when I was quite sure, I took out +the pistol I carried in my breast and shot the cowering brute midway +between the eyes. + +When this was done, I turned back to her. There was no light but the +moon, and I needed no other. The clear beams falling on her face made +her look pure and stainless and sweet. I could almost have loved her +again as I marked the tender smile which lingered from that passing +moment on her lips. "Happy," she had said. What did she mean by that +"Happy"? As I asked myself I heard a cry. The companion who had been +with her had rushed in at the doorway, and was gazing in sorrow and +amazement at the white form lying outstretched and senseless against +that farther wall. + +"Oh," she cried, in a tone that assured me she had not seen the dog +lying in his blood at my back; "dead already? dead at the first glance? +at the first word? Ah, she knew better than I, poor lamb. I thought she +would get well if she once got home. She wearied so for you, sir, and +for Homewood!" + +I thought myself quite mad; past understanding aright the words +addressed to me. + +"She wearied--" I began. + +"With all her soul for you and Homewood," the young woman repeated. +"That is, since her illness developed." + +"Her illness?" + +"Yes, she has been ill ever since she went away. The cold of that first +journey was too much for her. But she kept up for several weeks--doing +what no other woman ever did before with so little strength and so +little hope. Danced at night and--" + +"And--and--what by day, what?" I could hardly get the words out of my +mouth. + +"Studied. Learned what she thought you would +like--French--music--politics. It was to have been a surprise. Poor +soul! it took her very life. She did not sleep-- Oh, sir, what is it?" + +I was standing over her, probably a terrifying figure. Lights were +playing before my eyes, strange sounds were in my ears, everything about +me seemed resolving itself into chaos. + +"What do you mean?" I finally gasped. "She studied--to please _me_? Why +did she come back, then, so soon--" I paused, choked. I had been about +to give away my secret. "I mean, why did she come thus suddenly, without +warning me of what I might expect? I would have gone--" + +"I told her so; but she was very determined to come to you herself--to +this very pavilion. She had set the time later, but this morning the +doctor told her that her symptoms were alarming, and without consulting +him or heeding the advice of any of us, she started for home. She was +buoyant on the way, and more than once I heard her softly repeating your +name. Her heart was very loving-- Oh, sir, you are ill!" + +"No, no," I cried, crushing my hand against my mouth to keep down the +cry of anguish and despair which tore its way up from my heart. "Before +other hands touch her, other eyes see her, tell me when she began--I +will not say to love me, but to weary for me and--Homewood." + +"Perhaps she has told you herself. Here is the letter, sir, she bade me +give you if she did not reach here alive. She wrote it this morning, +after the doctor told her what I have said." + +"Give--give--" + +She put it in my hand. I glanced at it in the moonlight, read the first +few words, and felt the world reel round me. Thrusting the letter in my +breast, I bade the woman, who watched me with fascinated eyes, to go now +and rouse the house. When she was gone I stepped back into the shadows, +and catching hold of the murderous beast, I dragged him out and about +the wall to a thick clump of bushes. Here I left him and went back to my +darling. When they came in, they found her in my arms. Her head had +fallen back and I was staring, staring, at her white throat. + +That night, when all was done for her which could be done, I shut myself +into my library and again opened that precious letter. I give it, to +show how men may be mistaken when they seek to weigh women's souls: + + _My Husband:_ + + I love you. As I shall be dead when you read this, I may say so + without fear of rebuff. I did not love you then; I did not love + anybody; I was thoughtless and fond of pleasure, and craved + affectionate words. He saw this and worked on my folly; but when + his project failed and I saw his boat creep away, I found that what + feeling I had was for the man who had thwarted him, and I felt + myself saved. + + If I had not taken cold that night I might have lived to prove + this. I know that you do not love me very much, but perhaps you + would have done so had you seen me grow a little wiser and more + like what your wife should be. I was trying when--O Philo, I can + not write--I can not think. I am coming to you--I + love--forgive--and take me back again, alive or dead. I love you--I + love-- + +As I finished, the light, which had been burning low, suddenly went out. +The window which opened before me was still unshuttered. Before me, +across the wide spaces of the lawn, shone the pavilion wall, white in +the moonlight. As I stared in horror at it, a trembling seized my whole +body, and the hair on my head rose. The dark figure of a running dog had +passed across it--_the dog which lay dead under the bushes_. + +"God's punishment," I murmured, and laid my head down on that pathetic +letter and sobbed. + +The morning found me there. It was not till later that the man sent to +bury the dog came to me with the cry, "Something is wrong with the +pavilion! When I went in to close the window I found the ceiling at that +end of the room strangely dabbled. It looks like blood. And the spots +grew as I looked." + +Aghast, bruised in spirit and broken of heart, I went down, after that +sweet body was laid in its grave, to look. The stains he had spoken of +were gone. But I lived to see them reappear,--as you have. + +God have mercy on our souls! + + + + +XII + +BEHIND THE WALL + + +"A most pathetic and awesome history!" I exclaimed, after the pause +which instinctively followed the completion of this tale, read as few of +its kind have ever been read, by this woman of infinite resources in +feeling and expression. + +"Is it not? Do you wonder that a visit in the dead of night to a spot +associated with such superstitious horrors should frighten me?" she +added as she bundled up the scattered sheets with a reckless hand. + +"I do not. I am not sure but that I am a little bit frightened myself," +I smiled, following with my eye a single sheet which had escaped to the +floor. "Allow me," I cried, stooping to lift it. As I did so I observed +that it was the first sheet, the torn one--and that a line or so of +writing was visible at the top which I was sure had not been amongst +those she had read. + +"What words are those?" I asked. + +"I don't know, they are half gone as you can see. They have nothing to +do with the story. I read you the whole of that." + +Mistress as she was of her moods and expression I detected traces of +some slight confusion. + +"The putting up of the partition is not explained," I remarked. + +"Oh, that was put up in horror of the stains which from time to time +broke out on the ceiling at that end of the room." + +I wished to ask her if this was her conclusion or if that line or two I +have mentioned was more intelligible than she had acknowledged it to be. +But I refrained from a sense of propriety. + +If she appreciated my forbearance she did not show it. Rising, she +thrust the papers into a cupboard, casting a scarcely perceptible glance +at the clock as she did so. + +I took the hint and rose. Instantly she was all smiles. + +"You have forgotten something, Mr. Trevitt. Surely you do not intend to +carry away with you my key to the bungalow." + +"I was thinking of it," I returned lightly. "I am not quite through with +that key." Then before she could recover from her surprise, I added +with such suavity as I had been able to acquire in my intercourse with +my more cultivated clients: + +"I have to thank you, Mrs. Carew, for an hour of thrilling interest. +Absorbed though I am in the present mystery, my mind has room for the +old one. Possibly because there is sometimes a marked connection between +old family events and new. There may be some such connection in this +case. I should like the opportunity of assuring myself there is not." + +She said nothing; I thought I understood why. More suavely yet, I +continued, with a slight, a very slight movement toward the door: +"Rarely have I had the pleasure of listening to such a tale read by such +an interpreter. It will always remain in my memory, Mrs. Carew. But the +episode is over and I return to my present duty and the bungalow." + +"The bungalow! You are going back to the bungalow?" + +"Immediately." + +"What for? Didn't you see all there was to see?" + +"Not quite." + +"I don't know what there can be left." + +"Nothing of consequence, most likely, but you can not wish me to have +any doubts on the subject." + +"No, no, of course not." + +The carelessness of her tone did not communicate itself to her manner. +Seeing that my unexpected proposition had roused her alarm, I grew wary +and remarked: + +"I was always overscrupulous." + +With a lift of her shoulders--a dainty gesture which I congratulated +myself I could see unmoved--she held out her hand in a mute appeal for +the key, but seeing that I was not to be shaken in my purpose, reached +for the wrap she had tossed on a chair and tied it again over her head. + +"What are you going to do?" I asked. + +"Accompany you," she declared. + +"Again? I thought the place frightened you." + +"It does," she replied. "I had rather visit any other spot in the whole +world; but if it is your intention to go back there, it is mine to go +with you." + +"You are very good," I replied. + +But I was seriously disconcerted notwithstanding. I had reckoned upon a +quiet hour in the bungalow by myself; moreover, I did not understand her +motive for never trusting me there alone. Yet as this very distrust was +suggestive, I put a good face on the matter and welcomed her company +with becoming alacrity. After all, I might gain more than I could +possibly lose by having her under my eye for a little longer. Strong as +was her self-control there were moments when the real woman showed +herself, and these moments were productive. + +As we were passing out she paused to extinguish a lamp which was +slightly smoking,--I also thought she paused an instant to listen. At +all events her ears were turned toward the stairs down which there came +the murmur of two voices, one of them the little boy's. + +"It is time Harry was asleep," she cried. "I promised to sing to him. +You won't be long, will you?" + +"You need not be very long," was my significant retort. "I can not speak +for myself." + +Was I playing with her curiosity or anxieties or whatever it was that +affected her? I hardly knew; I spoke as impulse directed and waited in +cold blood--or was it hot blood?--to see how she took it. + +Carelessly enough, for she was a famous actress except when taken by +surprise. Checking an evident desire of calling out some direction up +stairs, she followed me to the door, remarking cheerfully, "You can not +be very long either; the place is not large enough." + +My excuse--or rather the one I made to myself for thus returning to a +place I had seemingly exhausted, was this. In the quick turn I had made +in leaving on the former occasion, my foot had struck the edge of the +large rug nailed over the center of the floor, and unaccountably +loosened it. To rectify this mishap, and also to see how so slight a +shock could have lifted the large brass nails by which it had been held +down to the floor, seemed reason enough for my action. But how to draw +her attention to so insignificant a fact without incurring her ridicule +I could not decide in our brief passage back to the bungalow, and +consequently was greatly relieved when, upon opening the door and +turning my lantern on the scene, I discovered that in our absence the +rug had torn itself still farther free from the floor and now lay with +one of its corners well curled over--the corner farthest from the door +and nearest the divan where little Gwendolen had been lying when she was +lifted and carried away--where? + +Mrs. Carew saw it too and cast me a startled look which I met with a +smile possibly as ambiguous as the feeling which prompted it. + +"Who has been here?" she asked. + +"Ourselves." + +"Did we do that?" + +"I did; or rather my foot struck the edge of the rug as I turned to go +out with you. Shall I replace it and press back the nails?" + +"If you will be so good." + +Do what she would there was eagerness in her tone. Remarking this, I +decided to give another and closer look at the floor and the nails. I +found the latter had not been properly inserted; or rather that there +were two indentations for every nail, a deep one and one quite shallow. +This caused me to make some examination of the others, those which had +not been drawn from the floor, and I found that one or two of them were +equally insecure, but not all; only those about this one corner. + +Mrs. Carew, who had paused, confused and faltering in the doorway, in +her dismay at seeing me engaged in this inspection instead of in +replacing the rug as I had proposed, now advanced a step, so that our +glances met as I looked up with the remark: + +"This rug seems to have been lately raised at this corner. Do you know +if the police had it up?" + +"I don't. I believe so--oh, Mr. Trevitt," she cried, as I rose to my +feet with the corner of the rug in my hand, "what are you going to do?" + +She had run forward impetuously and was now standing close beside +me--inconveniently close. + +"I am going to raise this rug," I informed her. "That is, just at this +corner. Pardon me, I shall have to ask you to move." + +"Certainly, of course," she stammered. "Oh, what is going to happen +now?" Then as she watched me: "There is--there _is_ something under it. +A door in the floor--a--a--Mrs. Ocumpaugh never told me of this." + +"Do you suppose she knew it?" I inquired, looking up into her face, +which was very near but not near enough to be in the full light of the +lantern, which was pointed another way. + +"This rug appears to have been almost soldered to the floor, everywhere +but here. There! it is thrown back. Now, if you will be so very good as +to hold the lantern, I will try and lift up the door." + +"I can not. See, how my hands shake! What are we about to discover? +Nothing, I pray, nothing. Suspense would be better than that." + +"I think you will be able to hold it," I urged, pressing the lantern +upon her. + +"Yes; I have never been devoid of courage. But--but--don't ask me to +descend with you," she prayed, as she lifted the lantern and turned it +dexterously enough on that portion of the door where a ring lay outlined +in the depths of its outermost plank. + +"I will not; but you will come just the same; you can not help it," I +hazarded, as with the point of my knife-blade I lifted the small round +of wood which filled into the ring and thus made the floor level. + +"Now, if this door is not locked, we will have it up," I cried, pulling +at the ring with a will. The door was not locked and it came up readily +enough, discovering some half-dozen steps, down which I immediately +proceeded to climb. + +"Oh, I can not stay here alone," she protested, and prepared to follow +me in haste just as I expected her to do the moment she saw the light +withdrawn. + +"Step carefully," I enjoined. "If you will honor me with your hand--" +But she was at my side before the words were well out. + +"What is it? What kind of place do you make it out to be; and is there +anything here you--do--not--want--to see?" + +I flashed the light around and incidentally on her. She was not +trembling now. Her cheeks were red, her eyes blazing. She was looking at +me, and not at the darksome place about her. But as this was natural, it +being a woman's way to look for what she desires to learn in the face of +the man who for the moment is her protector, I shifted the light into +the nooks and corners of the low, damp cellar in which we now found +ourselves. + +"Bins for wine and beer," I observed, "but nothing in them." Then as I +measured the space before me with my eye, "It runs under the whole +house. See, it is much larger than the room above." + +"Yes," she mechanically repeated. + +I lowered the lantern to the floor but quickly raised it again. + +"What is that on the other side?" I queried. "I am sure there is a break +in the wall over in that corner." + +"I can not see," she gasped; certainly she was very much frightened. +"Are you going to cross the floor?" + +"Yes; and if you do not wish to follow me, sit down on these steps--" + +"No, I will go where you go; but this is very fearful. Why, what is the +matter?" + +I had stepped aside in order to avoid a trail of footprints I saw +extending across the cellar floor. + +"Come around this way," I urged. "If you will follow me I will keep you +from being too much frightened." + +She did as I told her. Softly her steps fell in behind mine, and thus +with wary tread and peering eyes we made our way to the remote end, +where we found--or rather where I found--that the break which I had +noticed in the uniformity of the wall was occasioned by a pile of old +boxes, arranged so as to make steps up to a hole cut through the floor +above. + +With a sharp movement I wheeled upon her. + +"Do you see that?" I asked, pointing back over my shoulder. + +"Steps," she cried, "going up into that part of the building +where--where--" + +"Will you attempt them with me? Or will you stay here, in the darkness?" + +"I--will--stay--here." + +It was said with shortened breath; but she seemed less frightened than +when we started to cross the cellar. At all events a fine look of daring +had displaced the tremulous aspect which had so changed the character of +her countenance a few minutes before. + +"I will make short work of it," I assured her as I hastily ran up the +steps. "Drop your face into your hands and you will not be conscious of +the darkness. Besides, I will talk to you all the time. There! I have +worked my way up through the hole. I have placed my lantern on the floor +above and I see-- What! are you coming?" + +"Yes, I am coming." + +Indeed, she was close beside me, maintaining her footing on the toppling +boxes by a grip on my disengaged arm. + +"Can you see?" I asked. "Wait! let me pull you up; we might as well +stand on the floor as on these boxes." + +Climbing into the room above, I offered her my hand, and in another +moment we stood together in the noisome precincts of that abominable +spot, with whose doleful story she had just made me acquainted. + +A square of impenetrable gloom confronted me at the first glance--what +might not be the result of a second? + +I turned to consult the appearance of the lady beside me before I took +this second look. Had she the strength to stand the ordeal? Was she as +much moved--or possibly more moved than myself? As a woman, and the +intimate friend of the Ocumpaughs, she should be. But I could not +perceive that she was. For some reason, once in view of this mysterious +place, she was strangely, inexplicably, impassibly calm. + +"You can bear it?" I queried. + +"I must--only end it quickly." + +"I will," I replied, and I held out my lantern. + +I am not a superstitious man, but instinctively I looked up before I +looked about me. I have no doubt that Mrs. Carew did the same. But no +stains were to be seen on those blackened boards now; or rather, they +were dark with one continuous stain; and next moment I was examining +with eager scrutiny the place itself. + +Accustomed to the appearance of the cheerful and well-furnished room on +the other side of the partition, it was a shock to me (I will not say +what it was to her) to meet the bare decaying walls and mouldering +appurtenances of this dismal hole. True, we had just come from a +description of the place in all the neglect of its many years of +desolation, yet the smart finish of the open portion we had just left +poorly prepared us for what we here encountered. + +But the first impression over--an impression which was to recur to me +many a night afterward in dreams--I remembered the nearer and more +imperative cause which had drawn us thither, and turning the light into +each and every corner, looked eagerly for what I so much dreaded to +find. + +A couch to which some old cushions still clung stood against the farther +wall. Thank God! it was empty; so were all the corners of the room. +Nothing living and--nothing dead! + +Turning quickly upon Mrs. Carew, I made haste to assure her that our +fears were quite unfounded. + +But she was not even looking my way. Her eyes were on the ground, and +she seemed merely waiting--in some impatience, evidently, but yet merely +waiting--for me to finish and be gone. + +This was certainly odd, for the place was calculated in itself to rouse +curiosity, especially in one who knew its story. A table, thick with +dust and blurred with dampness, still gave tokens of a bygone +festivity--among which a bottle and some glasses stood conspicuous. +Cards were there too, dingy and green with mould--some on the +table--some on the floor; while the open lid of a small desk pushed up +close to a book-case full of books, still held a rusty pen and the +remnants of what looked like the mouldering sheets of unused paper. As +for the rest--desolation, neglect, horror--but no _child_. + +The relief was enormous. + +"It is a dreadful place," I exclaimed; "but it might have been worse. Do +you want to see things nearer? Shall we cross the floor?" + +"No, no. We have not found Gwendolen; let us go. Oh, let us go!" + +A thrill of feeling had crept into her voice. Who could wonder? Yet I +was not ready to humor her very natural sensibilities by leaving quite +so abruptly. The floor interested me; the cushions of that old couch +interested me; the sawn boards surrounding the hole--indeed, many +things. + +"We will go in a moment," I assured her; "but, first, cast your eyes +along the floor. Don't you see that some one has preceded us here; and +that not so very long ago? Some one with dainty feet and a skirt that +fell on the ground; in short, a woman and--a lady!" + +"I don't see," she faltered, very much frightened; then quickly: "Show +me, show me." + +I pointed out the marks in the heavy dust of the long neglected floor; +they were unmistakable. + +"Oh!" she cried, "what it is to be a detective! But who could have been +here? Who would want to be here? I think it is horrible myself, and if I +were alone I should faint from terror and the close air." + +"We will not remain much longer," I assured her, going straight to the +couch. "I do not like it either, but--" + +"What have you found now?" + +Her voice seemed to come from a great distance behind me. Was this on +account of the state of her nerves or mine? I am willing to think the +latter, for at that moment my eye took in two unexpected details. A dent +as of a child's head in one of the mangy sofa-pillows and a crushed bit +of colored sugar which must once have been a bit of choice +confectionery. + +"Some one besides a lady has been here," I decided, pointing to the one +and bringing back the other. "See! this bit of candy is quite fresh. You +must acknowledge that. _This_ was not walled up years ago with the rest +of the things we see about us." + +Her eyes stared at the sugary morsel I held out toward her in my open +palm. Then she made a sudden rush which took her to the side of the +couch. + +[Illustration: "GWENDOLEN HERE?" SHE MOANED. "GWENDOLEN HERE?"] + +"Gwendolen here?" she moaned. "Gwendolen here?" + +"Yes," I began; "do not--" + +But she had already left the spot and was backing toward the opening up +which we had come. As she met my eye she made a quick turn and plunged +below. + +"I must have air," she gasped. + +With a glance at the floor over which she had so rapidly passed, I +hastily followed her, smiling grimly to myself. Intentionally or +unintentionally, she had by this quick passage to and fro effectually +confused, if not entirely obliterated, those evidences of a former +intrusion which, with misguided judgment, I had just pointed out to her. +But recalling the still more perfect line of footprints left below to +which I had not called her attention, I felt that I could afford to +ignore the present mishap. + +As I reached the cellar bottom I called to her, for she was already +half-way across. + +"Did you notice where the boards had been sawed?" I asked. "The sawdust +is still on the floor, and it smells as fresh as if the saw had been at +work there yesterday." + +"No doubt, no doubt," she answered back over her shoulder, still +hurrying on so that I had to run lest she should attempt the steps in +utter darkness. + +When I reached the floor of the bungalow she was in the open door +panting. Watching her with one eye, I drew back the trap into place and +replaced the rug and the three nails I had loosened. Then I shut the +slide of the lantern and joined her where she stood. + +"Do you feel better?" I asked. "It was a dismal quarter of an hour. But +it was not a lost one." + +She drew the door to and locked it before she answered; then it was with +a question. + +"What do you make of all this, Mr. Trevitt?" + +I replied as directly as the circumstances demanded. + +"Madam, it is a startling answer to the question you put me before we +first left your house. You asked then if the child in the wagon was +Gwendolen. How could it have been she with this evidence before us of +her having been concealed here at the very time that wagon was being +driven away from--" + +"I do not think you have reason enough--" she began and stopped, and did +not speak again till we halted at the foot of her own porch. Then with +the frank accent most in keeping with her general manner, however much I +might distrust both accent and manner, she added as if no interval had +intervened: "If those signs you noted are proofs to you that Gwendolen +was shut up in that walled-off portion of the bungalow while some were +seeking her in the water and others in the wagon, _then where is she +now_?" + + + + +XIII + +"WE SHALL HAVE TO BEGIN AGAIN" + + +It was a leading question which I was not surprised to see accompanied +by a very sharp look from beneath the cloudy wrap she had wound about +her head. + +"You suspect some one or something," continued Mrs. Carew, with a return +of the indefinable manner which had characterized her in the beginning +of our interview. "Whom? What?" + +I should have liked to answer her candidly, and in the spirit, if not +the words, of the prophet of old, but her womanliness disarmed me. With +her eyes on me I could get no further than a polite acknowledgment of +defeat. + +"Mrs. Carew, I am all at sea. We shall have to begin again." + +"Yes," she answered like an echo--was it sadly or gladly?--"you will +have to begin again." Then with a regretful accent: "And I can not help +you, for I am going to sail to-morrow. I positively must go. Cablegrams +from the other side hurry me. I shall have to leave Mrs. Ocumpaugh in +the midst of her distress." + +"What time does your steamer sail, Mrs. Carew?" + +"At five o'clock in the afternoon, from the Cunard docks." + +"Nearly sixteen hours from now. Perhaps fate--or my efforts--will favor +us before then with some solution of this disheartening problem. Let us +hope so." + +A quick shudder to hide which she was reaching out her hand, when the +door behind us opened and a colored girl looked out. Instantly and with +the slightest possible loss of self-possession Mrs. Carew turned to +motion the intruder back, when the girl suddenly blurted out: + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, Harry is so restless. He is sleepy, he says." + +"I will be up instantly. Tell him that I will be up instantly." Then as +the girl disappeared, she added, with a quick smile: "You see I haven't +any toys for him. Not being a mother I forgot to put them in his +trunk." + +As though in response to these words the maid again showed herself in +the doorway. "Oh, Mrs. Carew," she eagerly exclaimed, "there's a little +toy in the hall here, brought over by one of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's maids. The +girl said that hearing that the little boy fretted, Mrs. Ocumpaugh had +picked out one of her little girl's playthings and sent it over with her +love. It's a little horse, ma'am, with curly mane and a long tail. I am +sure 'twill just please Master Harry." + +Mrs. Carew turned upon me a look brimming with feeling. + +"What thoughtfulness! What self-control!" she cried. "Take up the horse, +Dinah. It was one of Gwendolen's favorite playthings," she explained to +me as the girl vanished. + +I did not answer. I was hearing again in my mind that desolate cry of +"Philo! Philo! Philo!" which an hour or so before had rung down to me +from Mrs. Ocumpaugh's open window. There had been a wildness in the +tone, which spoke of a tossing head on a feverish pillow. Certainly an +irreconcilable picture with the one just suggested by Mrs. Carew of the +considerate friend sending out the toys of her lost one to a neighbor's +peevish child. + +Mrs. Carew appeared to notice the pre-occupation with which I lingered +on the lower step. + +"You like children," she hazarded. "Or have you interested yourself in +this matter purely from business reasons?" + +"Business reasons were sufficient," was my guarded reply. "But I like +children very much. I should be most happy if I could see this little +Harry of yours nearer. I have only seen him from a distance, you know." + +She drew back a step; then she met my look squarely in the moonlight. +Her face was flushed, but I attempted no apology for a presumption which +could have but one excuse. I meant that she should understand me if I +did not her. + +"You _must_ love children," she remarked, but not with her usual +correctness of tone. Then before I could attempt an answer to the +implied sarcasm a proud light came into her eyes, and with a gracious +bend of her fine figure she met my look with one equally as frank, and +cheerfully declared: + +"You shall. Come early in the morning." + +In another moment she had vanished inside and closed the door. I was +defeated for the nonce, or else she was all she appeared to be and I a +dreaming fool. + + + + +XIV + +ESPIONAGE + + +As I moved slowly away into the night the question thus raised in my own +mind assumed greater and more vital consequence. Was she a true woman or +what my fears pictured her--the scheming, unprincipled abductor of +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh? She looked true, sometimes acted so; but I had +heard and seen what would rouse any man's suspicions, and though I was +not in a position to say: "Mrs. Carew, this was not your first visit to +that scene of old tragedy. You have been there before, and with +Gwendolen in your arms," I was morally certain that this was so; that +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's most trusted friend was responsible for the +disappearance of her child, and I was not quite sure that the child was +not now under her very roof. + +It was very late by this time, but I meant, if possible, to settle some +of these doubts before I left the neighborhood of the cottage. + +How? By getting a glimpse of Mrs. Carew with her mask off; in the +company of the child, if I could compass it; if not, then entirely alone +with her own thoughts, plans and subtleties. + +It was an act more in line with my partner's talents than my own, but I +could not afford to let this deter me. I had had my chance with her, +face to face. For hours I had been in her company. I had seen her in +various stages of emotion, sometimes real and sometimes assumed, but at +no moment had I been sure of her, possibly because at no moment had she +been sure of me. In our first visit to the bungalow; in her own little +library, during the reading of that engrossing tale by which she had so +evidently attempted to lull my suspicions awakened by her one +irrepressible show of alarm on the scene of Gwendolen's disappearance, +and afterward when she saw that they might be so lulled but not +dispelled; in the cellar; and, above all, in that walled-off room where +we had come across the signs of Gwendolen's presence, which even she +could not disavow, she had felt my eyes upon her and made me conscious +that she had so felt them. Now she must believe them removed, and if I +could but gain the glimpse I speak of I should see this woman as she +was. + +I thought I could manage this. + +I had listened to the maid's steps as she returned up stairs, and I +believed I knew in what direction they had tended after she reached the +floor above. I would just see if one of the windows on the south side +was lighted, and, if so, if it was in any way accessible. + +To make my way through the shrubbery without rousing the attention of +any one inside or out required a circumspection that tried me greatly. +But by dint of strong self-control I succeeded in getting to the +vantage-place I sought, without attracting attention or causing a single +window to fly up. This reassured me, and perceiving a square of light in +the dark mass of wall before me I peered about among the trees +overlooking this part of the building for one I could climb without too +much difficulty. + +The one which looked most feasible was a maple with +low-growing-branches, and throwing off my coat I was soon half-way to +its top and on a level, or nearly so, with the window on which I had +fixed my eye. + +There were no curtains to this window--the house being half dismantled +in anticipation of Mrs. Carew's departure--but it was still protected by +a shade, and this was drawn down, nearly to the ledge. + +But not quite. A narrow space intervened which, to an eye placed where +mine was, offered a peep-hole of more or less satisfactory proportions, +and this space, I soon saw, widened perceptibly from time to time as the +wind caught at the shade and blew it in. + +With utmost caution I shifted my position till I could bring my eye +fairly in line with the interior of this room, and finding that the +glimpse given revealed little but a blue wall and some snowy linen, I +waited for the breeze to blow that I might see more. + +It came speedily, and in a gust which lifted the shade and thus +disclosed the whole inside of the room. It was an instantaneous glimpse, +but in that moment the picture projected upon my eye satisfied me that, +despite my doubts, despite my causes for suspicion, I had been doing +this woman the greatest injustice in supposing that her relations to +the child she had brought into her home were other than she had made +out. + +She had come up as she had promised, and had seated herself on the bed +with her face turned toward the window. I could thus catch its whole +expression--an expression this time involuntary and natural as the +feelings which prompted it. The child, with his newly-obtained toy +clutched in one hand, knelt on the coverlet with his head pressed +against her breast, saying his prayers. I could hear his soft murmur, +though I could not catch the words. + +But sweet as was the sight of his little white-clad form burying its +head, with its mass of dusky curls, against the breast in which he most +confided, it was not this alone which gave to the moment its almost +sacred character. It was the rapturous look with which Mrs. Carew gazed +down on this little head--the mother-look, which admits of nothing +false, and which when once seen on a woman's face, whether she be mother +in fact or mother only in heart--idealizes her in the mind for ever. + +Eloquent with love and holy devotion the scene flashed upon my eyes for +a moment and was gone. But that moment made its impression, and settled +for good and all the question with which I had started upon this +adventure. She _was_ the true woman and I was the dreaming fool. + +As I realized this I also realized that three days out of the seven were +gone. + + + + +XV + +A PHANTASM + + +I certainly had every right to conclude that this would end my +adventures for the day. But I soon found that I was destined to have yet +another experience before returning to my home in New York. + +The weather had changed during the last hour and at the moment I emerged +from the shadows of the hedge-row into the open space fronting the +Ocumpaugh dock, a gleam of lightning shot across the west and by it I +saw what looked like the dusky figure of a man leaning against a pile at +the extreme end of the boat-house. Something in the immobility +maintained by this figure in face of the quick flashes which from time +to time lit up the scene, reminded me of the presence I had come upon +hours before in front of Mrs. Carew's house; and moved by the instinct +of my calling, I took advantage of the few minutes yet remaining before +train time, to make my way in its direction, cautiously, of course, and +with due allowance for the possible illumination following those fitful +bursts of light which brought everything to view in one moment, only to +plunge it all back into the profoundest obscurity the next. + +I had two motives for my proceeding. One, as I say, sprang from the +natural instinct of investigation; the other was kindlier and less +personal. + +I did not understand the meaning of the posture which this person had +now assumed; nor did I like it. Why should this man--why should any man +stand like this at the dead of night staring into waters, which, if they +had their tale to tell, had not yet told it--unless his interest in the +story he read there was linked with emotions such as it was my business +to know? For those most openly concerned in Gwendolen's loss, the search +had ceased; why, then, this lone and lingering watch on the part of one +who might, for all I knew, be some over-zealous detective, but who I was +rather inclined to believe was a person much more closely concerned in +the child's fate, viz: the next heir-in-law, Mr. Rathbone. If it were +he, his presence there savored of mystery or it savored of the tragic. +The latter seemed the more likely hypothesis, judging from the +expression of his face, as seen by me under the lantern. It behooved me +then to approach him, but to approach him in the shadow of the +boat-house. + +What passed in the next few minutes seemed to me unreal and dreamlike. I +was tired, I suppose, and so more than usually susceptible. Night had no +unfamiliar effects for me, even night on the borders of this great +river; nor was my occupation a new one, or the expectation I felt, as +fearful and absorbing as that with which an hour or two before I had +raised my lantern in that room in which the doleful mystery of half a +century back, trenched upon the still more moving mystery of to-day. +Yet, that experience had the sharpness of fact; while this had only the +vagueness of a phantasm. + +I was very near him but the lightning had ceased to flash, and I found +it impossible to discern whether or not the form I had come there to +identify, yet lingered in its old position against the pile. + +I therefore awaited the next gleam with great anxiety, an anxiety only +partly alleviated by the certainty I felt of hearing the faint, scarcely +recognizable sound of his breathing. Had the storm passed over? Would no +more flashes come? Ah, he is moving--that is a sigh I hear--no +detective's exclamation of impatience, but a sufferer's sigh of +depression or remorse. What was in the man's mind? + +A steamboat or some equally brilliantly illuminated craft was passing, +far out in the channel; the shimmer of its lights gave sudden cheer to +the distant prospect; the churning of its paddles suggested life and +action and irresistibly drew my eyes that way. Would his follow? Would I +find his attitude changed? + +Ah! the long delayed flash has come and gone. He is standing there yet, +but no longer in an attitude of contemplation. On the contrary, he is +bending over the waters searching with eager aspect, where so many had +searched before him, and, in the instant, as his face and form leaped +into sight, I beheld his clenched right hand fall on his breast and +heard on his lips the one word-- + +"Guilty!" + + + + +XVI + +"AN ALL-CONQUERING BEAUTY" + + +I was one of the first to procure and read a New York paper next +morning. Would I discover in the columns any hint of the preceding day's +events in Yonkers, which, if known, must for ever upset the wagon +theory? No, that secret was still my secret, only shared by the doctor, +who, so far as I understood him, had no intention of breaking his +self-imposed silence till his fears of some disaster to the little one +had received confirmation. I had therefore several hours before me yet +for free work. + +The first thing I did was to hunt up Miss Graham. + +She met me with eagerness; an eagerness I found it difficult to dispel +with my disappointing news in regard to Doctor Pool. + +"He is not the man," said I. "Can you think of any other?" + +She shook her head, her large gray eyes showing astonishment and what I +felt bound to regard as an honest bewilderment. + +"I wish to mention a name," said I. + +"One I know?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"I know of no other person capable of wronging that child." + +"You are probably right. But there is a gentleman--one interested in the +family--a man with something to gain--" + +"Mr. Rathbone? You must not mention him in any such connection. He is +one of the best men I know--kind, good, and oh, so sensitive! A dozen +fortunes wouldn't tempt a man of his stamp to do any one living a wrong, +let alone a little innocent child." + +"I know; but there are other temptations greater than money to some men; +infinitely greater to one as sensitive as you say he is. What if he +loved a woman! What if his only hope of winning her--" + +"You must not think that of him," she again interposed. "Nothing could +make a villain of _him_. I have seen him too many times in circumstances +which show a man's character. He is good through and through, and in all +that concerns Gwendolen, honorable to the core. I once saw him save her +life at the risk of his own." + +"You did? When? Years ago?" + +"No, lately; within the last year." + +"Tell me the circumstances." + +She did. They were convincing. As I listened, the phantasm of the night +before assumed fainter and fainter proportions. When she had finished I +warmly remarked that I was glad to hear the story of so heroic an act. + +And I was. Not that I ascribed too deep a significance to the word which +had escaped Mr. Rathbone on the dock, but because I was glad to have my +instinctive confidence in the man verified by facts. + +It seemed to clear the way before me. + +"Ellie," said I (it seemed both natural and proper to call her by that +name now), "what explanation would you give if, under any circumstances +(all circumstances are possible, you know), you heard this gentleman +speak of feeling guilty in connection with Gwendolen Ocumpaugh?" + +"I should have to know the circumstances," was her quiet answer. + +"Let me imagine some. Say that it was night, late night, at an hour when +the most hardened amongst us are in a peculiarly responsive condition; +say that he had been spending hours near the house of the woman he had +long loved but had quite despaired of winning in his greatly hampered +condition, and with the fever of this longing upon him, but restrained +by emotions the nature of which we can not surmise, had now found his +way down to the river--to the spot where boats have clustered and men +crouched in the gruesome and unavailing search we know of; say that he +hung there long over the water, gazing down in silence, in solitude, +alone, as he thought, with his own conscience and the suggestions +offered by that running stream where some still think, despite facts, +despite all the probabilities, that Gwendolen has found rest, and when +his heart was full, should be seen to strike his breast and utter, with +a quick turn of his face up the hill, this one word, 'Guilty'?" + +"What would I think? This: That being overwrought by the struggle you +mention (a struggle we can possibly understand when we consider the +unavoidable consciousness which must be his of the great change which +would be effected in all his prospects if Gwendolen should not be +found), he gave the name of guilt to feelings which some would call +simply human." + +"Ellie, you are an oracle." This thought of hers had been my thought +ever since I had had time really to reflect upon the matter. "I wonder +if you will have an equally wise reply to give to my next question?" + +"I can not say. I speak from intuition; I am not really wise." + +"Intuition is above wisdom. Does your intuition tell you that Mrs. Carew +is the true friend she professes to be to Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" + +"Ah, that is a different thing!" + +The clear brow I loved--there! how words escape a man!--lost its +smoothness and her eyes took on a troubled aspect, while her words came +slowly. + +"I do not know how to answer that offhand. Sometimes I have felt that +her very soul was knit to that of Mrs. Ocumpaugh, and again I have had +my doubts. But never deep ones; never any such as would make it easy +for me to answer the question you have just put me." + +"Was her love for Gwendolen sincere?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes; oh, yes. That is, I always thought so, and with no +qualification, till something in her conduct when she first heard of +Gwendolen's disappearance--I can not describe it--gave me a sense of +disappointment. She was shocked, of course, and she was grieved, but not +hopelessly so. There was something lacking in her manner--we all felt +it; Mrs. Ocumpaugh felt it, and let her dear friend go the moment she +showed the slightest inclination to do so." + +"There were excuses for Mrs. Carew, just at that time," said I. "You +forget the new interest which had come into her life. It was natural +that she should be preoccupied." + +"With thoughts of her little nephew?" replied Miss Graham. "True, true; +but she had been so fond of Gwendolen! You would have thought-- But why +all this talk about Mrs. Carew? You don't believe--you surely can not +believe--" + +"That Mrs. Carew is a charming woman? Oh, yes, but I do. Mr. Rathbone +shows good taste." + +"Ah, is she the one?" + +"Did you not know it?" + +"No; yet I have seen them together many times. Now I understand much +that has always been a mystery to me. He never pressed his suit; he +loved, but never harassed her. Oh, he is a good man!" This with +emphasis. + +"Is she a good woman?" + +Miss Graham's eyes suddenly fell, then rose again until they met mine +fully and frankly. + +"I have no reason," said she, "to believe her otherwise. I have never +seen anything in her to hinder my esteem; only--" + +"Finish that 'only.'" + +"She does not appeal to me as many less gifted women do. Perhaps I am +secretly jealous of the extreme fondness Gwendolen has always shown for +her. If so, the fault is in me, not in her." + +What I said in reply is not germane to this story. + +After being assured by a few more discreet inquiries in some other +perfectly safe quarters that Miss Graham's opinion of Mr. Rathbone was +shared by those who best knew him, I returned to the one spot most +likely to afford me a clue to, if no explanation of, this elusive +mystery. + +What did I propose to myself? First, to revisit Mrs. Carew and make the +acquaintance of the boy Harry. I no longer doubted his being just what +she called him, but she had asked me to call for this purpose and I had +no excuse for declining the invitation, even if I had desired to do so. +Afterward--but first let us finish with Mrs. Carew. + +As she entered her reception-room that morning she looked so +bright--that is, with the instinctive brightness of a naturally +vivacious temperament--that I wondered if I had been mistaken in my +thought that she had had no sleep all that night, simply because many of +the lights in her house had not been put out till morning. But an +inspection of her face revealed lines of care, which only her smile +could efface, and she was not quite ready for smiles, affable and +gracious as she showed herself. + +Her first words, just as I expected, were: + +"There is nothing in the papers about the child in the wagon." + +"No; everything does not get into the papers." + +"Will what we saw and what we found in the bungalow last night?" + +"I hardly think so. That is our own special clue, Mrs. Carew--if it is a +clue." + +"You seem to regard it as such." + +With a shrug I declared that we had come upon a mystery of some kind. + +"But the child is not dead? That you feel demonstrated--or don't you?" + +"As I said last night, I do not know what to think. Ah; is that the +little boy?" + +"Yes," she gaily responded, as the glad step of a child was heard +descending the stairs. "Harry! come here, Harry!" she cried, with that +joyous accent which a child's presence seems to call out in some women. +"Here is a gentleman who would like to shake hands with you." + +A sprite of a child entered; a perfect sunbeam irradiating the whole +room. If, under the confidence induced by the vision I had had of him on +his knees the night before, any suspicion remained in my mind of his +being Gwendolen Ocumpaugh in disguise, it vanished at sight of the +fearless head, lifted high in boyish freedom, and the gay swish, swish +of the whip in his nervous little hand. + +"Harry is playing horse," he cried, galloping toward me in what he +evidently considered true jockey style. + +I made a gesture and stopped him. + +"How do you do, little man? What did you say your name is?" + +"Harry," this very stoutly. + +"Harry what? Harry Carew?" + +"No, Harry; just Harry." + +"And how do you like it here?" + +"I like it; I like it better than my old home." + +"Where was your old home?" + +"I don't know. I didn't like it." + +"He was with uncongenial people, and he is very sensitive," put in Mrs. +Carew, softly. + +"I like it here," he repeated, "and I like the big ocean. I am going on +the ocean. And I like horses. Get up, Dandy!" and he cracked his whip +and was off again on his imaginary trot. + +I felt very foolish over the doubts I had so openly evinced. This was +not only a boy to the marrow of his bones, but he was, as any eye could +see, the near relative she called him. In my embarrassment I rose; at +all events I soon found myself standing near the door with Mrs. Carew. + +"A fine fellow!" I enthusiastically exclaimed; "and startlingly like you +in expression. He is your nephew, I believe?" + +"Yes," she replied, somewhat wistfully I thought. + +I felt that I should apologize for--well, perhaps for the change she +must have discerned in my manner. + +"The likeness caused me a shock. I was not prepared for it, I suppose." + +She looked at me quite wonderingly. + +"I have never heard any one speak of it before. I am glad that you see +it." And she seemed glad, very glad. + +But I know that for some reason she was gladder yet when I turned to +depart. However, she did not hasten me. + +"What are you going to do next?" she inquired, as she courteously led +the way through the piles of heaped-up boxes and baskets, the number of +which had rather grown than diminished since my visit the evening +before. "Pardon my asking." + +"Resort to my last means," said I. "See and talk with Mrs. Ocumpaugh." + +An instant of hesitation on her part, so short, however, that I could +hardly detect it, then she declared: + +"But you can not do that." + +"Why not?" + +"She is ill; I am sure that they will let no one approach her. One of +her maids was in this morning. She did not even ask me to come over." + +"I am sorry," said I, "but I shall make the effort. The illness which +affects Mrs. Ocumpaugh can be best cured by the restoration of her +child." + +"But you have not found Gwendolen?" she replied. + +"No; but I have discovered footprints on the dust of the bungalow floor, +and, as you know, a bit of candy which looks as if it had been crushed +in a sleeping child's hand, and I am in need of every aid possible in +order to make the most of these discoveries. They may point the way to +Gwendolen's present whereabouts and they may not. But they shall be +given every chance." + +"Whoop! get up! get up!" broke in a childish voice from the upper +landing. + +"Am I not right?" I asked. + +"Always; only I am sorry for Mrs. Ocumpaugh. May I tell you--" as I laid +my hand upon the outer door-knob--"just how to approach her?" + +"Certainly, if you will be so good." + +"I would not ask for Miss Porter. Ask for Celia; she is Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +special maid. Let her carry your message--if you feel that it will do +any good to disturb her." + +"Thank you; the recommendation is valuable. Good morning, Mrs. Carew. I +may not see you again; may I wish you a safe journey?" + +"Certainly; are we not almost friends?" + +Why did I not make my bow and go? There was nothing more to be said--at +least by me. Was I held by something in her manner? Doubtless, for while +I was thus reasoning with myself she followed me out on to the porch, +and with some remark as to the beauty of the morning, led me to an +opening in the vines, whence a fine view could be caught of the river. + +But it was not for the view she had brought me there. This was evident +enough from her manner, and soon she paused in her observations on the +beauties of nature, and with a strange ringing emphasis for which I was +not altogether prepared, remarked with feeling: + +"I may be making a mistake--I was always an unconventional woman--but I +think you ought to know something of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's private history +before you see her. It is not a common one--at least it has its romantic +elements--and an acquaintance with some of its features is almost +necessary to you if you expect to approach her on so delicate a matter +with any hope of success. But perhaps you are better informed on this +subject than I supposed? Detectives are a mine of secret intelligence, I +am told; possibly you have already learned from some other source the +story of her marriage and homecoming to Homewood and the peculiar +circumstances of her early married life?" + +"No," I disclaimed in great relief, and I have no doubt with unnecessary +vivacity. "On the contrary, I have never heard anything said in regard +to it." + +"Would you like to? Men have not the curiosity of women, and I do not +wish to bore you, but--I see that I shall not do that," she exclaimed. +"Sit down, Mr. Trevitt; I shall not detain you long; I have not much +time myself." + +As she sank into a chair in saying this, I had no alternative but to +follow her example. I took pains, however, to choose one which brought +me into the shadow of the vines, for I felt some embarrassment at this +new turn in the conversation, and was conscious that I should have more +or less difficulty in hiding my only too intense interest in all that +concerned the lady of whom we were speaking. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh was a western woman," Mrs. Carew began softly; "the +oldest of five daughters. There was not much money in the family, but +she had beauty, a commanding, all-conquering beauty; not the beauty you +see in her to-day, but that exquisite, persuasive loveliness which +seizes upon the imagination as well as moves the heart. I have a picture +of her at eighteen--but never mind that." + +Was it affection for her friend which made Mrs. Carew's always rich +voice so very mellow? I wished I knew; but I was successful, I think, in +keeping that wish out of my face, and preserving my manner of the simply +polite listener. + +"Mr. Ocumpaugh was on a hunting trip," she proceeded, after a slight +glance my way. "He had traveled the world over and seen beautiful women +everywhere; but there was something in Marion Allison which he had found +in no other, and at the end of their first interview he determined to +make her his wife. A man of impulses, but also a man of steady +resolution, Mr. Trevitt. Perhaps you know this?" + +I bowed. "A strong man," I remarked. + +"And a romantic one. He had this intention from the first, as I have +said, but he wished to make himself sure of her heart. He knew how his +advantages counted; how hard it is for a woman to disassociate the man +from his belongings, and having a spirit of some daring, he resolved +that this 'pearl of the west'--so I have heard him call her--should +marry the man and not his money." + +"Was he as wealthy then as now?" + +"Almost. Possibly he was not quite such a power in the financial world, +but he had Homewood in almost as beautiful a condition as now, though +the new house was not put up till after his marriage. He courted +her--not as the landscape painter of Tennyson's poem--but as a rising +young business man who had made his way sufficiently to give her a good +home. This home he did not have to describe, since her own imagination +immediately pictured it as much below the one she lived in, as he was +years younger than her hard-worked father. Delighted with this naivete, +he took pains not to disabuse her mind of the simple prospects with +which she was evidently so well satisfied, and succeeded in marrying her +and bringing her as far as our station below there, without her having +the least suspicion of the splendor she was destined for. And now, Mr. +Trevitt, picture, if you can, the scene of that first arrival. I have +heard it described by him and I have heard it described by her. He was +dressed plainly; so was she; and lest the surprise should come before +the proper moment, he had brought her on a train little patronized by +his friends. The sumptuousness of the solitary equipage standing at the +depot platform must, in consequence, have struck her all the more +forcibly, and when he turned and asked her if she did not admire this +fine turn-out, you can imagine the lovely smile with which she +acknowledged its splendor and then turned away to look up and down for +the street-car she expected to take with him to their bridal home. + +"He says that he caught her back with the remark that he was glad she +liked it because it was hers and many more like it. But she insists that +he did not say a word, only smiled in a way to make her see for whom the +carriage door was being held open. Such was her entrance into wealth and +love and alas! into trouble. For the latter followed hard upon the two +first. Mr. Ocumpaugh's mother, who had held sway at Homewood for thirty +years or more, was hard as the nether millstone. She was a Rathbone and +had brought both wealth and aristocratic connections into the family. +She had no sympathy for penniless beauties (she was a very plain woman +herself) and made those first few years of her daughter-in-law's life +as nearly miserable as any woman's can be who adores her husband. I have +heard that it was a common experience for this sharp-tongued old lady to +taunt her with the fact that she brought nothing into the family but +herself--not even a _towel_; and when two years passed and no child +came, the biting criticisms became so frequent that a cloud fell over +the young wife's sensitive beauty, which no after happiness has ever +succeeded in fully dispelling. Matters went better after Gwendolen came, +but in reckoning up the possible defects in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's character +you should never forget the twist that may have been given to it by that +mother-in-law." + +"I have heard of Madam Ocumpaugh," I remarked, rising, anxious to end an +interview whose purport was more or less enigmatic to me. + +"She is dead now--happily. A woman like that is accountable for much +more than she herself ever realizes. But one thing she never succeeded +in doing: she never shook Mr. Ocumpaugh's love for his wife or hers for +him. Whether it was the result of that early romantic episode of which I +have spoken, or whether their natures are peculiarly congenial, the +bond between them has been one of exceptional strength and purity." + +"It will be their comfort now," I remarked. + +Mrs. Carew smiled, but in a dubious way that added to my perplexity and +made me question more seriously than ever just what her motive had been +in subjecting me to these very intimate reminiscences of one I was about +to approach on an errand of whose purport she could have only a general +idea. + +Had she read my inmost soul? Did she wish to save her friend, or save +herself, or even to save me from the result of a blind use of such tools +as were the only ones afforded me? Impossible to determine. She was at +this present moment, as she had always been, in fact, an unsolvable +problem to me, and it was not at this hurried time and with such serious +work before me that I could venture to make any attempt to understand +her. + +"You will let me know the outcome of your talk with Mrs. Ocumpaugh?" she +cried, as I moved to the front of the porch. + +It was for me to look dubious now. I could make no such promise as +that. + +"I will let you know the instant there is any good news," I assured her. + +And with that I moved off, but not before hearing the peremptory command +with which she entered the house: + +"Now, Dinah, quick!" + +Evidently, her preparations for departure were to be pushed. + + + + +XVII + +IN THE GREEN BOUDOIR + + +So far in this narrative I have kept from the reader nothing but an old +experience of which I was now to make use. This experience involved Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, and was the cause of the confidence which I had felt from the +first in my ability to carry this search through to a successful +termination. I believed that in some secret but as yet undiscovered way, +it offered a key to this tragedy. And I still believed this, little as I +had hitherto accomplished and blind as the way continued to look before +me. + +Nevertheless, it was with anything but a cheerful heart that I advanced +that morning through the shrubbery toward the Ocumpaugh mansion. + +I dreaded the interview I had determined to seek. I was young, far too +young, to grapple with the difficulties it involved; yet I saw no way of +avoiding it, or of saving either Mrs. Ocumpaugh or myself from the +suffering it involved. + +Mrs. Carew had advised that I should first see the girl called Celia. +But Mrs. Carew knew nothing of the real situation. I did not wish to see +any girl. I felt that no such intermediary would answer in a case like +this. Nor did I choose to trust Miss Porter. Yet to Miss Porter alone +could I appeal. + +The sight of a doctor's gig standing at the side door gave me my first +shock. Mrs. Ocumpaugh was ill, then, really ill. Yet if I came to make +her better? I stood irresolute till I saw the doctor come out; then I +walked boldly up and asked for Miss Porter. + +Just what Mrs. Carew had advised me not to do. + +Miss Porter came. She recognized me, but only to express her sorrow that +Mrs. Ocumpaugh was totally unfit to see any one to-day. + +"Not if he brings news?" + +"News?" + +"I have news, but of a delicate nature. I should like the privilege of +imparting the same to Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself." + +"Impossible." + +"Excuse me, if I urge it." + +"She can not see you. The doctor who has just gone says that at all +hazards she must be kept quiet to-day. Won't Mr. Atwater do? Is it--is +it good news?" + +"That, Mrs. Ocumpaugh alone can say." + +"See Mr. Atwater; I will call him." + +"I have nothing to say to _him_." + +"But--" + +"Let me advise you. Leave it to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Take this paper up to +her--it is only a sketch--and inform her that the person who drew it has +something of importance to say either to her or to Mr. Atwater, and let +her decide which it shall be. You may, if you wish, mention my name." + +"I do not understand." + +"You hold my credentials," I said and smiled. + +She glanced at the paper I had placed in her hand. It was a folded one, +fastened something like an envelope. + +"I can not conceive,--" she began. + +I did not scruple to interrupt her. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh has a right to the privilege of seeing what I have +sketched there," I said with what impressiveness I could, though my +heart was heavy with doubt. "Will you believe that what I ask is for the +best and take this envelope to her? It may mean the ultimate restoration +of her child." + +"This paper?" + +"Yes, Miss Porter." + +She did not try to hide her incredulity. + +"I do not see how a picture--yet you seem very much in earnest--and I +know she has confidence in you, she and Mr. Ocumpaugh, too. I will take +it to her if you can assure me that good will come of it and no more +false hopes to destroy the little courage she has left." + +"I can not promise that. I believe that she will wish to receive me and +hear all I have to say after seeing what that envelope contains. That is +as far as I can honestly go." + +"It does not satisfy me. If it were not for the nearness of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's return, I would have nothing to do with it. He must hear at +Sandy Hook that some definite news has been received of his child." + +"You are right, Miss Porter, he must." + +"He idolized Gwendolen. He is a man of strong feelings; very passionate +and much given to follow the impulse of the moment. If his suspense is +not ended at the earliest possible instant, the results may be such as I +dare not contemplate." + +"I know it; that is why I have pushed matters to this point. You will +carry that up to her?" + +"Yes; and if--" + +"No ifs. Lay it before her where she sits and come away. But not beyond +call. You are a good woman--I see it in your face--do not watch her as +she unfolds this paper. Persons of her temperament do not like to have +their emotions observed, and this will cause her emotion. That can not +be helped, Miss Porter. Sincerely and honestly I tell you that it is +impossible for her best friends to keep her from suffering now; they can +only strive to keep that suffering from becoming permanent." + +"It is a hard task you have set me," complained the poor woman; "but I +will do what I can. Anything must be better for Mrs. Ocumpaugh than the +suspense she is now laboring under." + +"Remember," I enjoined, with the full force of my secret anxiety, "that +no eye but hers must fall upon this drawing. Not that it would convey +meaning to anybody but herself, but because it is her affair and her +affair only, and you are the woman to respect another person's affairs." + +She gave me a final scrutinizing look and left the room. + +"God grant that I have made no mistake!" was the inward prayer with +which I saw her depart. + +My fervency was sincere. I was myself frightened at what I had done. + +And what had I done? Sent her a sketch drawn by myself of Doctor Pool +and of his office. If it recalled to her, as I felt it must, the +remembrance of a certain memorable visit she had once paid there, she +would receive me. + +When Miss Porter reentered some fifteen minutes later, I saw that my +hazardous attempt had been successful. + +"Come," said she; but with no cheerful alacrity, rather with an air of +gloom. + +"Was--was Mrs. Ocumpaugh very much disturbed by what she saw?" + +"I fear so. She was half-asleep when I went in, dreaming as it seemed, +and pleasantly. It was cruel to disturb her; indeed I had not the heart, +so I just laid the folded paper near her hand and waited, but not too +near, not within sight of her face. A few minutes later--interminable +minutes to me--I heard the paper rattle, but I did not move. I was where +she could see me, so she knew that she was not alone and presently I +caught the sound of a strange noise from her lips, then a low cry, then +the quick inquiry in sharper and more peremptory tones than I had ever +before heard from her, 'Where did this come from? Who has dared to send +me this?' I advanced quickly. I told her about you and your desire to +see her; how you had asked me to bring her up this little sketch so that +she would know that you had real business with her; that I regretted +troubling her when she felt so weak, but that you promised revelations +or some such thing--at which I thought she grew very pale. Are you quite +convinced that you have news of sufficient importance to warrant the +expectations you have raised in her?" + +"Let me see her," I prayed. + +She made a sign and we both left the room. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh awaited me in her own boudoir on the second floor. As we +went up the main staircase I was afforded short glimpses of room after +room of varying richness and beauty, among them, one so dainty and +delicate in its coloring that I presumed to ask if it were that of the +missing child. + +Miss Porter's look as she shook her head roused my curiosity. + +"I should be glad to see her room," I said. + +She stopped, seemed to consider the matter for a moment, then advanced +quickly and, beckoning me to follow, led me to a certain door which she +quietly opened. One look, and my astonishment became apparent. The room +before me, while large and sunny, was as simple, I had almost said as +bare, as my sister's at home. No luxurious furnishings here, no +draperies of silk and damask, no half-lights drawing richness from +stained glass, no gleam of silver or sparkle of glass on bedecked +dresser or carved mantel. Not even the tinted muslins I had seen in some +nurseries; but a plain set of furniture on a plain carpet with but one +object of real adornment within the four walls. That was a picture of +the Madonna opposite the bed, and that was beautiful. But the frame was +of the cheapest--a simple band of oak. + +Catching Miss Porter's eye as we quietly withdrew, I ventured to ask +whose taste this was. + +The answer was short and had a decided ring of disapproval in it. + +"Her mother's. Mrs. Ocumpaugh believes in simple surroundings for +children." + +"Yet she dressed Gwendolen like a princess." + +"Yes, for the world's eye. But in her own room she wore gingham aprons +which effectually covered up her ribbons and laces." + +The motive for all this was in a way evident to me, but somehow what I +had just seen did not add to my courage for the coming interview. + +We stopped at the remotest door of this long hall. As Miss Porter opened +it I summoned up all my nerve, and the next moment found myself standing +in the presence of the imposing figure of Mrs. Ocumpaugh drawn up in the +embrasure of a large window overlooking the Hudson. It was the same +window, doubtless, in which she had stood for two nights and a day +watching for some sign from the boats engaged in dragging the river-bed. +Her back was to me and she seemed to find it difficult to break away +from her fixed attitude; for several minutes elapsed before she turned +slowly about and showed me her face. + +When she did, I stood appalled. Not a vestige of color was to be seen on +cheek, lip or brow. She was the beautiful Mrs. Ocumpaugh still, but the +heart which had sent the hues of life to her features, was beating +slow--slow--and the effect was heartbreaking to one who had seen her in +her prime and the full glory of her beauty as wife and mother. + +"Pardon," I faltered out, bowing my head as if before some powerful +rebuke, though her lips were silent and her eyes pleading rather than +accusing. Truly, I had ventured far in daring to recall to this woman an +hour which at this miserable time she probably would give her very life +to forget. "Pardon," I repeated, with even a more humble intonation than +before, for she did not speak and I hardly knew how to begin the +conversation. Still she said nothing, and at last I found myself forced +to break the unbearable silence by some definite remark. + +"I have presumed," I therefore continued, advancing but a step toward +her who made no advance at all, "to send you a hurried sketch of one who +says he knows you, that you might be sure I was not one of the many +eager but irresponsible men who offer help in your great trouble without +understanding your history or that of the little one to whose seemingly +unaccountable disappearance all are seeking a clue." + +"My history!" + +The words seemed forced from her, but no change in eye or look +accompanied them; nor could I catch a motion of her lips when she +presently added in a far-away tone inexpressibly affecting, "_Her_ +history! Did he bid you say that?" + +"Doctor Pool? He has given me no commands other than to find the child. +I am not here as an agent of his. I am here in Mr. Ocumpaugh's interest +and your own; with some knowledge--a little more knowledge than others +have perhaps--to aid me in the business of recovering this child. Madam, +the police are seeking her in the holes and slums of the great city and +at the hands of desperate characters who make a living out of the +terrors and griefs of the rich. But this is not where I should look for +Gwendolen Ocumpaugh. I should look nearer, just as you have looked +nearer; and I should use means which I am sure have not commended +themselves to the police. These means you can doubtless put in my hands. +A mother knows many things in connection with her child which she +neither thinks to impart nor would, under any ordinary circumstances, +give up, especially to a stranger. I am not a stranger; you have seen me +in Mr. Ocumpaugh's confidence; will you then pardon me if I ask what may +strike you as impertinent questions, but which may lead to the discovery +of the motive if not to the method of the little one's abduction?" + +"I do not understand--" She was trying to shake off her apathy. "I feel +confused, sick, almost like one dying. How can I help? Haven't I done +everything? I believe that she strayed to the river and was drowned. I +still believe her dead. Otherwise we should have news--real news--and we +don't, we don't." + +The intensity with which she uttered the last two words brought a line +of red into her gasping lips. She was becoming human, and for a minute I +could not help drawing a comparison between her and her friend Mrs. +Carew as the latter had just appeared to me in her little half-denuded +house on the other side of the hedge-row. Both beautiful, but owing +their charms to quite different sources, I surveyed this woman, white +against the pale green of the curtain before which she stood, and +imperceptibly but surely the glowing attractions of the gay-hearted +widow who had found a child to love, faded before the cold loveliness of +this bereaved mother, wan with suffering and alive with terrors of whose +depth I could judge from the clutch with which she still held my little +sketch. + +Meanwhile I had attempted some kind of answer to Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +heart-rending appeal. + +"We do not hear because she was not taken from you simply for the money +her return would bring. Indeed, after hours of action and considerable +thinking, I am beginning to doubt if she was taken for money at all. Can +you not think of some other motive? Do you not know of some one who +wanted the child from--_love_, let us say?" + +"Love?" + +Did her lips frame it, or did I see it in her eyes? Certainly I heard no +sound, yet I was conscious that she repeated the word in her mind, if +not aloud. + +"I know I have startled you," I pursued. "But, pardon me--I can not help +my presumption--I must be personal--I must even go so far as to probe +the wound I have made. You have a claim to Gwendolen not to be doubted, +not to be gainsaid. But isn't there some one else who is conscious of +possessing certain claims also? I do not allude to Mr. Ocumpaugh." + +"You mean--some relative--aunt--cousin--" She was fully human now, and +very keenly alert. "Mr. Rathbone, perhaps?" + +"No, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, none of these." Then as the paper rattled in her +hand and I saw her eyes fall in terror on it, I said as calmly and +respectfully as I could: "You have a secret, Mrs. Ocumpaugh; that secret +I share." + +The paper trembled from her clasp and fell fluttering downward. I +pointed at it and waited till our eyes met, possibly that I might give +her some encouragement from my look if not from my words. + +"I was a boy in Doctor Pool's employ some five years ago, and one day--" + +I paused; she had made me a supplicating gesture. + +"Shall I not go on?" I finally asked. + +"Give me a minute," was her low entreaty. "O God! O God! that I should +have thought myself secure all these years, with two in the world +knowing my fatal secret!" + +"I learned it by accident," I went on, when I saw her eye turn again on +mine. "On a certain night six years ago, I was in the office behind an +old curtain--you remember the curtain hanging at the left of the +doctor's table over that break in the book-shelves. I had no business +there. I had been meddling with things which did not belong to me and, +when I heard the doctor's step at the door, was glad to shrink into this +refuge and wait for an opportunity to escape. It did not come very soon. +First he had one patient, then another. The last one was you; I heard +your name and caught a glimpse of your face as you went out. It was a +very interesting story you told him--I was touched by it though I +hardly understood." + +"Oh! oh!" + +She was swaying from side to side, swaying so heavily that I +instinctively pushed forward a chair. + +"Sit," I prayed. "You are not strong enough for this excitement." + +She glanced at me vaguely, shook her head, but made no move toward +accepting the proffered chair. She submitted, however, when I continued +to press it upon her; and I felt less a brute and hard-hearted monster +when I saw her sitting with folded hands before me. + +"I bring this up," said I, "that you may understand what I mean when I +say that some one else--another woman, in fact, may feel her claim upon +this child greater than yours." + +"You mean the real mother. Is she known? The doctor swore--" + +"I do not know the real mother. I only know that you are not; that to +win some toleration from your mother-in-law, to make sure of your +husband's lasting love, you won the doctor over to a deception which +secured a seeming heir to the Ocumpaughs. Whose child was given you, is +doubtless known to you--" + +"No, no." + +I stared, aghast. + +"What! You do not know?" + +"No, I did not wish to. Nor was she ever to know me or my name." + +"Then this hope has also failed. I thought that in this mother, we might +find the child's abductor." + + + + +XVIII + +"YOU LOOK AS IF--AS IF--" + + +I had studiously avoided looking at her while these last few words +passed between us, but as the silence which followed this final outburst +continued, I felt forced to glance her way if only to see what my next +move should be. I found her gazing straight at me with a bright spot on +either cheek, looking as if seared there by a red-hot iron. + +"You are a detective," she said, as our regards met. "You have known +this shameful secret always, yet have met my husband constantly and have +never told." + +"No, I saw no reason." + +"Did you never, when you saw how completely my husband was deceived, how +fortunes were bequeathed to Gwendolen, gifts lavished on her, her small +self made almost an idol of, because all our friends, all our relatives +saw in her a true Ocumpaugh, think it wicked to hold your peace and let +this all go on as if she were the actual offspring of my husband and +myself?" + +"No; I may have wondered at your happiness; I may have thought of the +consequences if ever he found out, but--" + +I dared not go on; the quick, the agonizing nerve of her grief and +suffering had been touched and I myself quailed at the result. +Stammering some excuse, I waited for her soundless anguish to subside; +then, when I thought she could listen, completed my sentence by saying: + +"I did not allow my thoughts to stray quite so far, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Not +till my knowledge of your secret promised to be of use did I let it rise +to any proportion in my mind. I had too much sympathy for your +difficulties; I have to-day." + +This hint of comfort, perhaps from the only source which could afford +her any, seemed to move her. + +"Do you mean that you are my friend?" she cried. "That you would help +me, if any help were possible, to keep my secret and--my husband's +love?" + +I did not know how to dash the first spark of hope I had seen in her +from the beginning of this more than painful interview. To avoid it, I +temporized a trifle and answered with ready earnestness: + +"I would do much, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, to make the consequences of your act +as ineffective as possible and still be true to the interests of Mr. +Ocumpaugh. If the child can be found--you wish that? You loved her?" + +"O yes, I loved her." There was no mistaking the wistfulness of her +tone. "Too well, far too well; only my husband more." + +"If you can find her--that is the first thing, isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +It was a faint rejoinder. I looked at her again. + +"_You do not wish her found_," I suddenly declared. + +She started, rose to her feet, then suddenly sat again as if she felt +that she could not stand. + +"What makes you say that? How dare you? how can you say that? My husband +loves her, I love her--she is our own child, if not by birth, by every +tie which endears a child to a parent. Has that wicked man--" + +"Doctor Pool!" I put in, for she stopped, gasping. + +"Yes; Doctor Pool, whom I wish to God I had never seen--has he told you +any such lies as that? the man who swore--" + +I put out my hand to calm her. I feared for her reason if not for her +life. + +"Be careful," I enjoined. "Your walls are thick but tones like yours are +penetrating." Then as I saw she would be answered, I replied to the +question still alive in her face: "No; Doctor Pool has not talked of +you. I saw it in your own manner, madam; it or something else. Perhaps +it was something else--another secret which I have not shared." + +She moistened her lips and, placing her two hands on the knobs of the +chair in which she sat, leaned passionately forward. Who could say she +was cold now? Who could see anything but a feeling heart in this woman, +beautiful beyond all precedent in her passion and her woe? + +"It is--it was--a secret. I have to confess to the abnormal. The child +did not love me; has never loved me. Lavish as I have been in my +affection and caresses, she has never done aught but endure them. +Though she believes me her own mother, she has shrunk from me with all +the might of her nature from the very first. It was God's punishment for +the lie by which I strove to make my husband believe himself the father +which in God's providence he was not. I have borne it; but my life has +been a living hell. It was that you saw in my face--nothing else." + +I was bound to believe her. The child had made her suffer, but she was +bent upon recovering her--of course. I dared not contemplate any other +alternative. Her love for her husband precluded any other desire on her +part. And so I admitted, when after a momentary survey of the task yet +before me, I ventured to remark: + +"Then we find ourselves once more at the point from which we started. +Where shall we look for his child? Mrs. Ocumpaugh, perhaps it would aid +us in deciding this question if you told me, sincerely told me, why you +had such strong belief in Gwendolen's having been drowned in the river. +You did believe this--I saw you at the window. You are not an actress +like your friend--you expected to see her body drawn from those waters. +For twenty-four hours you expected it, though every one told you it was +impossible. Why?" + +She crept a step nearer to me, her tones growing low and husky. + +"Don't you see? I--I--thought that to escape me, she might have leaped +into the water. She was capable of it. Gwendolen had a strong nature. +The struggle between duty and repulsion made havoc even in her infantile +breast. Besides, we had had a scene that morning--a secret scene in +which she showed absolute terror of me. It broke my heart, and when she +disappeared in that mysterious way--and--and--one of her shoes was found +on the slope, what was I to think but that she had chosen to end her +misery--this child! this babe I had loved as my own flesh and blood!--in +the river where she had been forbidden to go?" + +"Suicide by a child of six! You gave another reason for your persistent +belief, at the time, Mrs. Ocumpaugh." + +"Was I to give this one?" + +"No; no one could expect you to do that, even if there had been no +secret to preserve and the child had been your own. But the child did +not go to the river. You are convinced of that now, are you not?" + +"Yes." + +"Where then did she go? Or rather, to what place was she taken? +Somewhere near; somewhere within easy reach, for the alarm soon rose and +then she could not be found. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I am going to ask you an +apparently trivial and inconsequent question. Was Gwendolen very fond of +sweets?" + +"Yes." + +She was sitting upright now, staring me in the face in unconcealed +astonishment and a little fear. + +"What sort of candy--pardon me if I seem impertinent--had you in your +house on the Wednesday the child disappeared? Any which she could have +got at or the nurse given her?" + +"There were the confections brought by the caterer; none other that I +know of; I did not indulge her much in sweets." + +"Was there anything peculiar about these confections either in taste or +appearance?" + +"I didn't taste them. In appearance they were mostly round and red, with +a brandied cherry inside. Why, sir, why do you ask? What have these +miserable lumps of sugar to do with Gwendolen?" + +"Madam, do you recognize this?" + +I took from my pocket the crushed mass of colored sugar and fruit I had +picked up from the musty cushions of the old sofa in the walled-up room +of the bungalow. + +She took it and looked up, staring. + +"It is one of them," she cried. "Where did you get it? You look as +if--as if--" + +"I had come upon a clue to Gwendolen? Madam, I believe I have. This +candy has been held in a hot little hand. Miss Graham or one of the +girls must have given it to her as she ran through the dining-room or +across the side veranda on her way to the bungalow. She did not eat it +offhand; she evidently fell asleep before eating it, but she clutched it +very tight, only dropping it, I judge, when her muscles were quite +relaxed by sleep; and then not far; the folds of her dress caught it, +for--" + +"What are you telling me?" The interruption was sudden, imperative. "I +saw Gwendolen asleep; she held a string in her hand but no candy, and if +she did--" + +"Did you examine both hands, madam? Think! Great issues hang on a right +settlement of this fact. Can you declare that she did not have this +candy in one of her little hands?" + +"No, I can not declare that." + +"Then I shall always believe she did, and this same sweetmeat, this +morsel from the table set for your guests on the afternoon of the +sixteenth of this month, I found last night in the disused portion of +the bungalow walled up by Mr. Ocumpaugh's father, but made accessible +since by an opening let into the floor from the cellar. This latter I +was enabled to reach by means of a trap-door concealed under the rug in +the open part of this same building." + +"I--I am all confused. Say that again," she pleaded, starting once more +to her feet, but this time without meeting my eyes. "In the disused part +of the bungalow? How came you there? No one ever goes there--it is a +forbidden place." + +"The child has been there--and lately." + +"Oh!" her fingers began to tremble and twist themselves together. "You +have something more than this to tell me. Gwendolen has been found +and--" her looks became uncertain and wandered, as I thought, toward the +river. + +"She has not been found, but the woman who carried her into that place +will soon be discovered." + +"How? Why?" + +I had risen by this time and could answer her on a level and face to +face. + +"Because the trail of her steps leads straight along the cellar floor. +We have but to measure these footprints." + +"And what?--what?" + +"We find the abductor." + +A silence, during which one long breath issued from her lips. + +"Was it a man's or woman's steps?" she finally asked. + +"A woman's, daintily shod; a woman of about the size of--" + +"Who? Why do you play with my anguish?" + +"Because I hate to mention the name of a friend." + +"Ah! What do you know of my friends?" + +"Not much. I happened to meet one of them, and as she is a very fine +woman with exquisitely shod feet, I naturally think of her." + +"What do you mean?" Her hand was on my arm, her face close to mine. +"Speak! speak! the name!" + +"Mrs. Carew." + +I had purposely refrained up to this moment from bringing this lady, +even by a hint, into the conversation. I did it now under an inner +protest. But I had not dared to leave it out. The footprints I alluded +to were startlingly like those left by her in other parts of the cellar +floor; besides, I felt it my duty to see how Mrs. Ocumpaugh bore this +name, notwithstanding my almost completely restored confidence in its +owner. + +She did not bear it well. She flushed and turned quickly from my side, +walking away to the window, where she again took up her stand. + +"You would have shown better taste by not following your first impulse," +she remarked. "Mrs. Carew's footsteps in that old cellar! You presume, +sir, and make me lose confidence in your judgment." + +"Not at all. Mrs. Carew's feet have been all over that cellar floor. She +accompanied me through it last night, at the time I found this crushed +bonbon." + +I could see that Mrs. Ocumpaugh was amazed, well-nigh confounded, but +her manner altered from that moment. + +"Tell me about it." + +And I did. I related the doubts I had felt concerning the completeness +of the police investigation as regarded the bungalow; my visit there at +night with Mrs. Carew, and the discoveries we had made. Then I alluded +again to the footprints and the important clue they offered. + +"But the child?" she interrupted "Where is the child? If taken there, +why wasn't she found there? Don't you see that your conclusions are all +wild--incredible? A dream? An impossibility?" + +"I go by the signs," I replied. "There seems to be nothing else to go +by." + +"And you want--you intend, to measure those steps?" + +"That is why I am here, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. To request permission to +continue this investigation and to ask for the key to the bungalow. +Mrs. Carew's is no longer available; or rather, I should prefer to +proceed without it." + +With sudden impulse she advanced rapidly toward me. + +"What is Mrs. Carew doing this morning?" she asked. + +"Preparing for departure. She is quite resolved to sail to-day. Do you +wish to see her? Do you wish her confirmation of my story? I think she +will come, if you send for her." + +"There is no need." This after an instant's hesitation. "I have perfect +confidence in Mrs. Carew; and in you too," she added, with what she +meant for a kind look. She was by nature without coquetry, and this +attempt to please, in the midst of an overwhelming distress absorbing +all her faculties, struck me as the most pitiful effort I had ever seen. +My feeling for her made it very hard for me to proceed. + +"Then I may go on?" I said. + +"Of course, of course. I don't know where the key is; I shall have to +give orders. You will wait a few minutes, somewhere in one of the +adjoining rooms, while I look up Mr. Atwater?" + +"Certainly." + +She was trembling, feverish, impatient. + +"Shall _I_ not look up Mr. Atwater for you?" I asked. + +"No. I am feeling better. I can go myself." + +In another moment she had left the room, having forgotten her own +suggestion that I should await her return in some adjoining apartment. + + + + +XIX + +FRENZY + + +Five minutes--ten minutes--elapsed and I became greatly impatient. I +walked the floor; I stared from the window; I did everything I could +think of to pass away these unendurable moments of suspense with +creditable self-possession. But I failed utterly. + +As the clock ticked off the quarter hour, and then the half, I grew not +only impatient but seriously alarmed, and flinging down the book I had +taken up as a last resort, stepped from the room, in the hope of coming +across some one in the hall whom I could interrogate. + +But the house seemed strangely quiet, and when I had walked the full +length of the hall without encountering either maid or mistress, I +summoned up courage to return to the room I had left and ring the bell. + +No answer, though I waited long for it. + +Thinking that I had not pressed the button hard enough, I made a second +attempt, but again there was no answer. + +Was anything amiss? Had she-- + +My thought did not complete itself. In sudden apprehension of I knew not +what, I dashed from the room and made my way down stairs without further +ceremony. + +The unnatural stillness which had attracted my attention above was +repeated on the floor below. No one in the rooms, no one in the +passages. + +Disturbed as I had not been yet by anything which had occurred in +connection with this harrowing affair, I leaped to the nearest door and +stepped out on the lawn. + +My first glance was toward the river. All was as usual there. With my +worst fears dispelled, but still a prey to doubts for which as yet I had +no name, I moved toward the kitchen windows, expecting of course to find +some one there who would explain the situation to me. But not a head +appeared at my call. The kitchen, too, was deserted. + +"This is not chance," I involuntarily exclaimed, and was turning toward +the stables when I perceived a child, the son of one of the gardeners, +crossing the lawn at a run, and hailing him, asked where everybody had +gone that the house seemed deserted. + +He looked back but kept on running, shouting as he did so: + +"I guess they're all down at the bungalow! I'm going there. Men are +digging up the cellar. Mrs. Ocumpaugh says she's afraid Miss Gwendolen's +body is buried there." + +Aghast and perhaps a trifle conscience-stricken, I stood stock-still in +the sunshine. So this was what I had done! Driven her to frenzy; roused +her imagination to such a point that she saw her darling--always her +darling even if another woman's child--lying under the clay across which +I had attempted simply to prove that she had been carried. Or--no! I +would not think that! A detective of my experience outwitted by this +stricken, half-dead woman whom I had trembled to see try to stand upon +her feet? Impossible! Yet the thought brought the blood to my cheek. + +Digging up the bungalow cellar! That meant destroying those footprints +before I had secured a single impression of the same. I should have +roused her curiosity only, not her terror. + +Now all might be lost unless I could arrive in time to--do what? Order +the work stopped? With what face could I do that with her standing by in +all the authority of motherhood--frenzied motherhood--seeking the +possible body of her child! My affair certainly looked dubious. Yet I +started for the bungalow like the rest, and on a run, too. Perhaps +Providence would favor me and some expedient suggest itself by which I +might still save the clue upon which so many hopes hung. + +The excitement which had now drawn every person on the place in the one +direction, was at its height as I burst through the thicket into the +path running immediately about the bungalow. Those who could get in at +the door had done so, filling the room whence Gwendolen had disappeared, +with awe-struck men and chattering women. Some had been allowed to +descend through the yawning trap-door, down which all were endeavoring +to peer, and, fortified by this fact, I armed myself with an appearance +of authority despite my sense of presumption, and pushed and worked my +own way to these steps, saying that I had come to aid Mrs. Ocumpaugh, +whose attention I declared I had been the first to direct to this place. + +Struck with my manner if not with my argument, they yielded to my +importunity and allowed me to pass down. The stroke of the spade and the +harsh voice of the man directing the work greeted my disquieted ears. +With a bound I cleared the last half-dozen steps and, alighting on the +cellar bottom, was soon able, in spite of the semi-darkness, to look +about me and get some notion of the scene. + +A dozen men were working--the full corps of gardeners without doubt--and +a single glance sufficed to show me that such of the surface as had not +been upturned by their spades had been harried by their footsteps. +Useless now to promulgate my carefully formed theory, with any hope of +proof to substantiate it. The crushed bonbon, the piled-up boxes and the +freshly sawed hole were enough without doubt to establish the fact that +the child had been carried into the walled-up room above, but the link +which would have fixed the identity of the person so carrying her was +gone from my chain of evidence for ever. She who should have had the +greatest interest in establishing this evidence was leaning on the arm +of Miss Porter and directing, with wavering finger and a wild air, the +movements of the men, who, in a frenzy caught from her own, dug here and +dug there as that inexorable finger pointed. + +Sobs choked Miss Porter; but Mrs. Ocumpaugh was beyond all such signs of +grief. Her eyes moved; her breast heaved; now and then a confused +command left her lips, but that was all. Yet to me she was absolutely +terrifying, and it took all the courage left from my disappointment for +me to move so as to attract her attention. When I saw that I had +succeeded in doing this, I regretted the impulse which had led me to +break into her mood. The change which my sudden appearance caused in her +was too abrupt; too startling. I feared the effects, and put up my hand +in silent deprecation as her lips essayed to move in what might be some +very disturbing command. If she heeded it I can not say. What she said +was this: + +[Illustration: "IT'S THE CHILD--I'M LOOKING FOR THE CHILD!"] + +"It's the child--I'm looking for the child! She was brought here. You +proved that she was brought here. Then why don't we find her, or--or her +little innocent body?" + +I did not attempt an answer; I dared not--I merely turned away into a +corner, where I should be out of the way of the men. A thought was +rising in my mind; a thought which might have led to some definite +action if her voice had not risen shrilly and with a despairing +utterance in these words: + +"Useless! It is not here she will be found. I was mad to think it. Pull +up your spades and go." + +A murmur of relief from one end of the cellar to the other, and every +spade was drawn out of the ground. + +"I could have told you," ventured one more hardy than the rest, "that +there was no use disturbing this old clay for any such purpose. Any one +could see that no spade has been at work here before in years." + +"I said that I was mad," she repeated, and waved the men away. + +Slowly they retreated with clattering spades and a heavy tread. The +murmur which greeted them above slowly died out, and the bungalow was +deserted by all but our three selves. When quite sure of this, I turned, +and Miss Porter's eyes met mine with a reproachful glance easy enough +for me to understand. + +"I will go, too," whispered Mrs. Ocumpaugh. "Oh! this has been like +losing my darling for the second time!" + +Real grief is unmistakable. Recognizing the heartfelt tone in which +these words were uttered, I recurred to the idea of frenzy with all the +sympathy her situation called for. Yet I felt that I could not let her +leave before we had come to some understanding. But how express myself? +How say here and now in the presence of a sympathetic but unenlightened +third party what it would certainly be difficult enough for me to utter +to herself in the privacy of that secluded apartment in which we had met +and talked before our confidence was broken into by this impetuous act +of hers. + +Not seeing at the moment any natural way out of my difficulties, I stood +in painful confusion, conscious of Miss Porter's eyes and also conscious +that unless some miracle came to my assistance I must henceforth play +but a sorry figure in this affair, when my eyes, which had fallen to the +ground, chanced upon a morsel of paper so insignificant in size and of +such doubtful appearance that the two ladies must have wondered to see +me stoop and with ill-concealed avidity pick it up and place it in my +pocket. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose false strength was fast leaving her, now muttered +some words which were quite unintelligible to me, though they caused +Miss Porter to make me a motion very expressive of a dismissal. I did +not accept it as such, however, without making one effort to regain my +advantage. At the foot of the steps I paused and glanced back at Mrs. +Ocumpaugh. She was still looking my way, but her chin had fallen on her +breast, and she seemed to sustain herself erect only by a powerful +effort. Again her pitiable and humiliating position appealed to me, and +it was with some indication of feeling that I finally said: + +"Am I not to have an opportunity of finishing the conversation so +unhappily interrupted, Mrs. Ocumpaugh? I am not satisfied, and I do not +believe you can be, with the partial disclosures I then made. Afford me, +I pray, a continuation of that interview, if only to make plain to me +your wishes. Otherwise I may fall into some mistake--say or do something +which I might regret--for matters can not stand where they are. You know +that, do you not, madam?" + +"Adele! go! go!" This to Miss Porter. "I must have a few words more with +Mr. Trevitt. I had forgotten what I owe him in the frenzy which +possessed me." + +"Do you wish to talk to him _here_?" asked that lady, with very marked +anxiety. + +"No, no; it is too cold, too dark. I think I can walk to Mrs. Carew's. +Will you join me there, Mr. Trevitt?" + +I bowed; but as she passed near me in going out, I whispered in her ear: + +"I should suggest that we hold our talk anywhere but at Mrs. Carew's +house, since she is liable to be the chief subject of our conversation." + +"Now?" + +"Now, more than ever. Her share in the child's disappearance was not +eliminated or affected in any way by the destruction of her +footprints." + +"I will go back to the house; I will see him in my own room," Mrs. +Ocumpaugh suddenly announced to her greatly disturbed companion. "Mr. +Trevitt will follow in a few minutes. I must have time to think--to +compose myself--to decide--" + +She was evidently thinking aloud. Anxious to save her from any +self-betrayal, I hastily interrupted her, saying quietly: + +"I will be at your boudoir door in a half-hour from now. I myself have +something to think of in the interim." + +"Be careful!" It was Miss Porter who stopped to utter this word in my +ear. "Be very careful, I entreat. Her heart-strings are strained almost +to breaking." + +I answered with a look. She could not be more conscious of this than I +was. + + + + +XX + +"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" + + +I was glad of that half-hour. I, too, wanted a free moment in which to +think and examine the small scrap of paper I had picked up from this +cellar floor. In the casual glance I had given it, it had seemed to +offer me a fresh clue, quite capable of replacing the old one; and I did +not change my mind on a second examination; the shape, the hue, the few +words written on it, even the musty smell pervading it, all going to +prove it to be the one possible link which could reunite the chain whose +continuity I had believed to be gone for ever. + +Rejoicing in my good luck, yet conscious of still moving in very +troubled waters, I cast a glance in the direction of Mrs. Carew's house, +from the door of the bungalow whence I had seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh depart, +and asked myself why Mrs. Carew, of all persons in the vicinity, had +been the only one to hang back from this scene of excitement. It was +not like her to hide herself at such a crisis (how invariably she had +followed me in each, and every visit I had paid here!), and though I +remembered all her reasons for pre-occupation, her absence under the +present conditions bore an aspect of guilt which sent my mind working in +a direction which was not entirely new to me, but which I had not as yet +resolutely faced. + +Guilt! The word recalled that other and similar one uttered by Mr. +Rathbone in that adventure which had impressed me as so unreal, and +still held its place in my mind as something I had dreamed. + +He was looking up when he said it, up the hill, up toward Mrs. Carew's +house. He had struck his own breast, but he had looked up, not down; and +though I had naturally associated the word he had used with himself--and +Miss Graham, with a womanly intuition, had supplied me with an +explanation of the same which was neither far-fetched nor unnatural, yet +all through this day of startling vicissitudes and unimaginable +interviews, faint doubts, bidden and unbidden, had visited my mind, +which at this moment culminated in what I might call the irresistible +question as to whether he might not have had in mind some one nearer and +dearer than himself when he uttered that accusing word. + +Her position, as I saw it now, did not make this supposition too +monstrous for belief; that is, if she secretly loved this man who did +not dare, or was too burdened with responsibility, to woo her. And who +can penetrate a woman's mind? To give him--possibly without his +knowledge--what every one who knew him declared him to stand in special +need of--money and relief from too exacting work--might have seemed +motive enough to one of her warm and impulsive temperament, for +eliminating the child she cared for, but not as she cared for him. It +was hard to think it; it would be harder yet to act upon it; but the +longer I stood there brooding, the more I felt my conviction grow that +from her and from her alone, we should yet obtain definite traces of the +missing child, if only Mrs. Ocumpaugh would uphold me in the attempt. + +But would Mrs. Ocumpaugh do this? I own that I had my doubts. Some +hidden cause or instinct which I had not been able to reach, though I +had plunged deep into the most galling secrets of her life, seemed to +stand in the way of her full acceptance of the injury I believed her to +have received from Mrs. Carew; or rather, in the way of her public +acknowledgment of it. Though she would fain have this upturning of the +bungalow cellar pass for an act of frenzy, I could not quite bring +myself to look upon it as such since taking a final observation of its +condition. + +Though her professed purpose had been to seek the body of her child, the +spades had not gone deeper than their length. It had been harrowing, not +digging, she had ordered, and harrowing meant nothing more than an +obliteration of the footprints which I had menaced her with comparing +with those of Mrs. Carew. Why this show of consideration to one she +might call friend, but who could hold no comparison in her mind with the +safety or recovery of the child which, if not hers, was the beloved +object of her husband's heart and only too deeply cherished by herself? +Did she fear her charming neighbor? Was the bond between them founded on +something besides love, and did she apprehend that a discovery of Mrs. +Carew's connection with Gwendolen's disappearance would only precipitate +her own disgrace and open up to public recognition the false +relationship she held toward the little heiress? Hard questions these, +but ones which must soon be faced and answered; for wretched as was Mrs. +Ocumpaugh's position and truly as I sympathized with her misery, I was +none the less resolved to force such acknowledgments from her as would +allow me to approach Mrs. Carew with a definite accusation such as even +that daring spirit could not withstand. + +Thus resolved, and resisting all temptation to hazard an interview with +the latter lady before I had seen Mrs. Ocumpaugh again, I made my way up +slowly through the grounds and entered by the side door just as my watch +told me that the half-hour of my waiting was over. + +Miss Porter was in the upper hall, but turned aside at my approach with +a meaning gesture in the direction of the boudoir. I thought that her +eyes looked red; certainly she was trembling very much; and with this +poor preparation for an interview before which the strongest and most +experienced man might quail, I advanced for the second time that morning +to the door behind which the distracted mother awaited me. + +If I knocked I do not remember it. I rather think she opened the door +for me herself upon hearing my step in the hall. At all events we were +soon standing again face to face, and the battle of our two wills--for +it would be nothing less now--had begun. + +She was the first to speak. Braving my inquiring look with eyes in whose +depths determination struggled with growing despair, she asked me +peremptorily, almost wildly: + +"Have you told any one? Do you mean to publish my shame to the world? I +see decision in your face. Does it mean that? Tell me! Does it mean +that?" + +"No, madam; far be it from me to harbor such an intention unless driven +to it by the greatest necessity. Your secret is your own; my only reason +for betraying my knowledge of it was the hope I cherished of its +affording us some clue to the identity of Gwendolen's abductor. It has +not done so yet, may never do so; then let us leave that topic and +return to the clue offered by the carrying of that child into the +long-closed room back of the bungalow. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, intentionally or +unintentionally, the proof upon which I relied for settling the identity +of the person so carrying her has been destroyed." + +With a flush which her seemingly bloodless condition made perfectly +startling, she drew back, breaking into wild disclaimers: + +"I know--I fear--I was too wild--too eager. I thought only of what might +lie under that floor." + +"In a half-foot of earth, madam? The spades did not enter any deeper." + +With a sudden access of courage, born possibly of her despair, she +sought neither to attempt denial nor palliate the fact. + +"And if this was my intention--though I don't acknowledge it--you must +recognize my reason. I do not believe--you can not make me believe--that +Gwendolen was carried into that room by Mrs. Carew. But I could see that +you believed it, and to save her the shame of such an accusation and all +that might follow from it, I--oh, Mr. Trevitt, you do not think this +possible! Do you know so little of the impulses of a mind, bewildered +as mine has been by intolerable suffering?" + +"I can understand madness, and I am willing to think that you were mad +just then--especially as no harm has been done and I can still accuse +Mrs. Carew of a visit to that room, with the proof in my hand." + +"What do you mean?" The steady voice was faltering, but I could not say +with what emotion--hope for herself--doubt of me--fear for her friend; +it might have been any of these; it might have been all. "Was there a +footprint left, then? You say proof. Do you mean proof? A detective does +not use that word lightly." + +"You may be sure that I would not," I returned. Then in answer to the +appeal of her whole attitude and expression: "No, there were no +footprints left; but I came upon something else which I have sufficient +temerity to believe will answer the same purpose. Remember that my +object is first to convince you and afterward Mrs. Carew, that it will +be useless for her to deny that she has been in that room. Once that is +understood, the rest will come easy; for we know the child was there, +and it is not a place she could have found alone." + +"The proof!" She had no strength for more than that "The proof! Mr. +Trevitt, the proof!" + +I put my hand in my pocket, then drew it out again empty, making haste, +however, to say: + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, I do not want to distress you, but I must ask you a few +questions first. Do you know the secret of that strangely divided room?" + +"Only in a general way. Mr. Ocumpaugh has never told me." + +"You have not seen the written account of it?" + +"No." + +"Nor given into Mrs. Carew's hand such an account?" + +"No." + +Mrs. Carew's duplicity was assuming definite proportions. + +"Yet there is such an account and I have listened to a reading of it." + +"You?" + +"Yes, madam. Mrs. Carew read it to me last night in her own house. She +told me it came to her from your hands. You see she is not always +particular in her statements." + +A lift of the hand, whether in deprecation or appeal I could not say, +was all the answer this received. I saw that I must speak with the +utmost directness. + +"This account was in the shape of a letter on several sheets of paper. +These sheets were very old, and were torn as well as discolored. I had +them in my hand and noticed that a piece was lacking from one of them. +Mrs. Ocumpaugh, are you ready to repeat that Mrs. Carew did not receive +this old letter from you or obtain it in any way you know of from the +house we are now in?" + +"I had rather not be forced to contradict Mrs. Carew," was the low +reply; "but in justice to you I must acknowledge that I hear of this +letter for the first time. God grant--but what can any old letter have +to do with the agonizing question before us? I am not strong, Mr. +Trevitt--I am suffering--do not confuse and burden me, I pray--" + +"Pardon, I am not saying one unnecessary word. These old sheets--a +secret from the family--did not come from this house. Whence, then, did +they come into Mrs. Carew's possession? I see you have forestalled my +answer; and if you will now glance at this end of paper, picked up by me +in your presence from the cellar floor across which we both know that +her footsteps have passed, you will see that it is a proof capable of +convicting her of the fact." + +I held out the scrap I now took from my pocket. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's hand refused to take it or her eyes to consult it. + +Nevertheless I still held it out. + +"Pray read the few words you will find there," I urged. "They are in +explanation of the document itself, but they will serve to convince you +that the letter to which they were attached, and which is now in Mrs. +Carew's hands, came from that decaying room." + +"No, no!" The gesture which accompanied this exclamation was more than +one of refusal, it was that of repulse. "I can not see--I do not need +to--I am convinced." + +"Pardon me, but that is not enough, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. I want you to be +certain. Let me read these words. The story they prefaced is unknown to +you; let it remain so; all I need to tell you about it is this: that it +was written by Mr. Ocumpaugh's father--he who raised this partition and +who is the undoubted author of these lines. Remember that they headed +the letter: + +"'_Perish with the room whose ceiling oozes blood! If in time to come +any man reads these lines, he will know why I pulled down the encircling +wall built by my father, and why I raised a new one across this end of +the pavilion._'" + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's eyes opened wide in horror. + +"Blood!" she repeated. "A ceiling oozing blood!" + +"An old superstition, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, quite unworthy your attention at +this moment. Do not let your mind dwell upon that portion of what I have +read, but on the word 'room.' 'Perish with the room!' We know what room +was meant; there can be but one. I have myself seen the desk from which +these sheets were undoubtedly taken--and for them to be in the hand of +a certain person argues--" Mrs. Ocumpaugh's hand went up in dissuasion, +but I relentlessly finished--"that she has been in that room! Are you +more than convinced of this now? Are you sure?" + +She did not need to make reply; eyes and attitude spoke for her. But it +was the look and attitude of despair, not hope. Evidently she had the +very greatest reason to fear Mrs. Carew, who possibly had her hard side +as well as her charming one. + +To ease the situation, I spoke what was in both our minds. + +"I see that you are sure. That makes my duty very plain, Mrs. Ocumpaugh. +My next visit must be upon Mrs. Carew." + +The spirit which, from the beginning of this later interview, had +infused fresh strength into her feeble frame, seemed to forsake her at +this simple declaration; her whole form drooped, and the eyes, which had +rested on mine, turned in their old way to the river. + +I took advantage of this circumstance. + +"Some one who knows you well, who knows the child well, dropped the +wrong shoe into the river." + +A murmur, nothing more, from Mrs. Ocumpaugh's set lips. + +"Could it--I do not say that it was--I don't see any reason why it +should be--but could it have been Mrs. Carew?" + +Not a sound this time, not a sound. + +"She was down at the dock that night. Did you know it?" + +A gesture, but whether of assent or dissent I could not tell. + +"We know of no other person who was there but the men employed." + +"_What do you know?_" + +With all her restraint gone--a suffering and despairing woman, Mrs. +Ocumpaugh was on her knees, grasping my arm with both hands. + +"Quit this torture! tell me that you know it all and leave me +to--to--die!" + +"Madam!" + +I was confounded; and as I looked at her face, strained back in wild +appeal, I was more than confounded, I was terrified. + +"Madam, what does this mean? Are you--you--" + +"Lock the door!" she cried; "no one must come in here now. I have said +so much that I must say more. Listen and be my friend; oh, be my +friend! _Those were my footsteps you saw in the bungalow. It was I who +carried Gwendolen into that secret hole._" + + + + +XXI + +PROVIDENCE + + +Had I suspected this? Had all my efforts for the last half-hour been for +the purpose of entrapping her into some such avowal? I do not know. My +own feelings at the time are a mystery to me; I blundered on, with a +blow here and a blow there, till I hit this woman in a vital spot, and +achieved the above mentioned result. + +I was not happy when I reached it. I felt no elation; scarcely any +relief. It all seemed so impossible. She marked the signs of incredulity +in my face and spoke up quickly, almost sharply: + +"You do not believe me. I will prove the truth of what I say. +Wait--wait!"--and running to a closet, she pulled out a drawer--where +was her weakness now?--and brought from it a pair of soiled white +slippers. "If the house had been ransacked," she proceeded pantingly, +"these would have told their own tale. I was shocked when I saw their +condition, and kept my guests waiting till I changed them. Oh, they will +fit the footprints." Her smile was ghastly. Softly she set the shoes +down. "Mrs. Carew helped me; she went for the child at night. Oh, we are +in a terrible strait, we two, unless you will stand by us like a +friend--and you will do that, won't you, Mr. Trevitt? No one else knows +what I have just confessed--not even Doctor Pool, though he suspects me +in ways I never dreamed of. Money shall not stand in the way--I have a +fortune of my own now--nothing shall stand in the way, if you will have +pity on Mrs. Carew and myself and help us to preserve our secret." + +"Madam, what secret? I pray you to make me acquainted with the whole +matter in all its details before you ask my assistance." + +"Then you do not know it?" + +"Not altogether, and I must know it altogether. First, what has become +of the child?" + +"She is safe and happy. You have seen her; you mentioned doing so just +now." + +"Harry?" + +"Harry." + +I rose before her in intense excitement. What a plot! I stood aghast at +its daring and the success it had so nearly met with. + +"I've had moments of suspicion," I admitted, after a short examination +of this beautiful woman's face for the marks of strength which her part +in this plot seemed to call for. "But they all vanished before Mrs. +Carew's seemingly open manner and the perfect boyishness of the child. +Is she an actress too--Gwendolen?" + +"Not when she plays horse and Indian and other boyish games. She is only +acting out her nature. She has no girl tastes; she is all boy, and it +was by means of these instincts that Mrs. Carew won her. She promised +her that if she would leave home and go with her to Europe she would cut +her hair and call her Harry, and dress her so that every one would think +her a boy. And she promised her something else--that she should go to +her father--Gwendolen idolizes Mr. Ocumpaugh." + +"But--" + +"I know. You wonder why, if I loved my husband, I should send away the +one cherished object of his life. It is because our love was threatened +by this very object. I saw nothing but death and chaos before me if I +kept her. My husband adores the child, but he hates and despises a +falsehood and my secret was threatened by the one man who knows it--your +Doctor Pool. My accomplice once, he declared himself ready to become my +accuser if the child remained under the Ocumpaugh roof one day after the +date he fixed for her removal." + +"Ah!" I ejaculated, with sudden comprehension of the full meaning of the +scrawls I had seen in so many parts of the grounds. "And by what right +did he demand this? What excuse did he give you? His wish for money, +immense money--old miser that he is!" + +"No; for money I could have given him. His motive is a less tangible +one. He has scruples, he says--religious scruples following a change of +heart. Oh, he was a cruel man to meet, determined, inexorable. I could +not move or influence him. The proffer of money only hurt my cause. A +fraud had been perpetrated, he said, and Mr. Ocumpaugh must know it. +Would I confess the truth to him myself? No. Then he would do so for me +and bring proofs to substantiate his statements. I thought all was +lost--my husband's confidence, his love, his pleasure even in the child, +for it was his own blood that he loved in her, and her connection with +his family of whose prestige he has an exaggerated idea. Made desperate +by the thought, I faced this cruel doctor--(it was in his own office; he +had presumed upon that old secret linking us together to summon me +there)--and told him solemnly that rather than do this I would kill +myself. And he almost bade me, 'Kill!' but refrained when the word had +half left his lips and changed it to a demand for the child's immediate +removal from the benefits it enjoyed under false pretenses." + +And from this Mrs. Ocumpaugh went on to relate how he had told her that +Gwendolen had inherited fortunes because she was believed to be an +Ocumpaugh; that not being an Ocumpaugh she must never handle those +fortunes, winding up with some such language as this: "Manage it how you +will, only relieve me from the oppression of feeling myself a party to +the grossest of deceptions. Can not the child run away and be lost? I am +willing to aid you in that, even to paying for her bringing up in some +decent, respectable way, such as would probably have been her lot if you +had not interfered to place her in the way of millions." It was a mad +thought, half meant and apparently wholly impossible to carry out +without raising suspicions as damaging as confession itself. But it took +an immediate hold upon the miserable woman he addressed, though she gave +little evidence of it, for he proceeded to add in a hard tone: "That or +immediate confession to your husband, with me by to substantiate your +story. No slippery woman's tricks will go down with me. Fix the date +here and now and I promise to stand back and await the result in total +silence. Dally with it by so much as an hour, and I am at your gates +with a story that all must hear." Is it a matter of wonder that the +stricken woman, without counsel and prohibited, from the very nature of +her secret, from seeking counsel, uttered the first one that came to +mind and went home to brood over her position and plan how she could +satisfy his demands with the least cost to herself, her husband and the +child? + +Mr. Ocumpaugh was in Europe. This was her one point of comfort. What +was done could be done in his absence, and this fact greatly minimized +any risk she was likely to incur. When he returned he would find the +house in mourning, for she had already decided within herself that only +by apparent death could this child be safely robbed of her endowments as +an Ocumpaugh and an heiress. He would grieve, but his grief would lack +the sting of shame, and so in course of time would soften into a lovely +memory of one who had been as the living sunshine to him and, like the +sunshine, brief in its shining. Thus and thus only could she show her +consideration for him. For herself no consideration was possible. It +must always be her fate to know the child alive yet absolutely removed +from her. This was a sorrow capable of no alleviation, for Gwendolen was +passionately dear to her, all the dearer, perhaps, because the +mother-thirst had never been satisfied; because she had held the cup in +hand but had never been allowed to drink. The child's future--how to rob +her of all she possessed, yet secure her happiness and the prospect of +an honorable estate--ah, there was the difficulty! and one she quite +failed to solve till, in a paroxysm of terror and despair, after five +sleepless nights, she took Mrs. Carew into her confidence and implored +her aid. + +The free, resourceful, cheery nature of the broader-minded woman saw +through the difficulty at once. "Give her to me," she cried. "I love +little children passionately and have always grieved over my childless +condition. I will take Gwendolen, raise her and fill her little heart so +full of love she will never miss the magnificence she has been brought +to look upon as her birthright. Only I shall have to leave this +vicinity--perhaps the country." + +"And you would be willing?" asked the poor mother--mother by right of +many years of service, if not of blood. + +The answer broke her heart though it was only a smile. But such a +smile--confident, joyous, triumphant; the smile of a woman who has got +her heart's wish, while she, she, must henceforth live childless. + +So that was settled, but not the necessary ways and means of +accomplishment; those came only with time. The two women had always been +friends, so their frequent meetings in the green boudoir did not waken +a suspicion. A sudden trip to Europe was decided on by Mrs. Carew and by +degrees the whole plot perfected. In her eyes it looked feasible enough +and they both anticipated complete success. Having decided that the +scheme as planned by them could be best carried out in the confusion of +a great entertainment, cards were sent out for the sixteenth, the date +agreed upon in the doctor's office as the one which should see a +complete change in Gwendolen's prospects. It was also settled that on +the same day Mrs. Carew should bring home, from a certain small village +in Connecticut, her little nephew who had lately been left an orphan. +There was no deception about this nephew. Mrs. Carew had for some time +supplied his needs and paid for his board in the farm-house where he had +been left, and in the emergency which had just come up, she took care to +publish to all her friends that she was going to bring him home and take +him with her to Europe. Further, a market-man and woman with whom Mrs. +Carew had had dealings for years were persuaded to call at her house +shortly after three that afternoon, to take this nephew of hers by a +circuitous and prolonged ride through the country to an institution in +which she had had him entered under an assumed name. All this in one +day. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Carew undertook to open with her own hands a passage from +the cellar of the bungalow into the long closed room behind the +partition. This was to insure such a safe retreat for the child during +the first search, that by no possibility could anything be found to +contradict the testimony of the little shoe which Mrs. Ocumpaugh +purposed presenting to all eyes as found on the slope leading to that +great burial-place, the river. Otherwise the child might have been +passed over to Mrs. Carew at once. All this being decided upon, each +waited to perform the part assigned her--Mrs. Carew in a fever of +delight--for she was passionately devoted to Gwendolen and experienced +nothing but rapture at the prospect of having this charming child all to +herself--Mrs. Ocumpaugh, whose only recompense would be freedom from a +threatening exposure which would cost her the only thing she prized, her +husband's love, in a condition of cold dread, relieved only by the +burning sense of the necessity of impressing upon the whole world, and +especially upon Mr. Ocumpaugh, an absolute belief in the child's death. + +This was her first care. To this her mind clung with an agony of purpose +which was the fittest preparation possible for real display of feeling +when the time came. But she forgot one thing--they both forgot one +thing--that chance or Providence might ordain that witnesses should be +on the road below Homewood to prove that the child did not cross the +track at the time of her disappearance. To them it seemed enough to +plead the child's love for the water, her desire to be allowed to fish, +the opportunity given her to escape, and--the little shoes. Such +short-sightedness in face of a great peril could be pardoned Mrs. +Ocumpaugh on the verge of delirium under her cold exterior, but Mrs. +Carew should have taken this possibility into account; and would have +done so, probably, had she not been completely absorbed in the part she +would be called upon to play when the exchange of children should be +made and Gwendolen be intrusted to her charge within a dozen rods of her +own home. This she could dwell on with the whole force of her mind; +this she could view in all its relations and make such a study of as to +provide herself against all contingencies. But the obvious danger of a +gang of men being placed just where they could serve as witnesses, in +contradiction of the one fact upon which the whole plot was based, never +even struck her imagination. + +The nursery-governess whose heart was divided between her duty to the +child and her strong love of music, was chosen as their unconscious +accomplice in this fraud. As the time for the great musicale approached, +she was bidden to amuse Gwendolen in the bungalow, with the +understanding that if the child fell asleep she might lay her on the +divan, and so far leave her as to take her place on the bench outside +where the notes of the solo singers could reach her. That Gwendolen +would fall asleep and fall asleep soon, the wretched mother well knew, +for she had given her a safe but potent sleeping draft which could not +fail to insure a twelve hours' undisturbed slumber to so healthy a +child. The fact that the little one had shrunk more than ever from her +attentions that morning both hurt and encouraged her. Certainly it +would make it easier for Mrs. Carew to influence Gwendolen. In her own +mind filled with terrible images of her husband's grief and her long +prospective dissimulation, one picture rose in brilliant contrast to the +dark one embodying her own miserable future and that of the soon-to-be +bereaved father. It was that of the perfect joy of the hungry-hearted +child in the arms of the woman she loved best. It brought her cheer--it +brought her anguish. It was a salve to her conscience and a mortal +thrust in an already festering wound. She shut it from her eyes as much +as possible,--and so, the hour came. + +We know its results--how far the scheme succeeded and whence its great +failure arose. Gwendolen fell asleep almost immediately on reaching the +bungalow and Miss Graham, dreaming no harm and having the most perfect +confidence in Mrs. Ocumpaugh, took advantage of the permission she had +received, and slipped outside to sit on the bench and listen to the +music. Presently Mrs. Ocumpaugh appeared, saying that she had left her +guests for a moment just to take a look at Gwendolen and see if all were +well with her. + +As she needed no attendance, Miss Graham might stay where she was. And +Miss Graham did, taking great pleasure in the music, which was the +finest she had ever heard. Meanwhile Mrs. Ocumpaugh entered the +bungalow, and, untying the child's shoes as she had frequently done +before when she found her asleep, she lifted her and carried her just as +she was down the trap, the door of which she had previously raised. The +darkness lurking in such places, a darkness which had rendered it so +impenetrable at midnight, was relieved to some extent in daylight by +means of little grated openings in the wall under the beams, so that her +chief difficulty lay in holding up her long dress and sustaining the +heavy child at the same time. But the exigency of the moment and her +apprehension lest Miss Graham should reenter the bungalow before she +could finish her task and escape, gave great precision to her movements, +and in an incredibly short space of time she had reached those musty +precincts which, if they should not prove the death of the child, would +safely shelter her from every one's eye, till the first excitement of +her loss was over, and the conviction of her death by drowning became a +settled fact in every mind. + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's return was a flight. She had brought one of the little +shoes with her, concealed in a pocket she had made especially for it in +the trimmings of her elaborate gown. She found the bungalow empty, the +trap still raised, and Miss Graham, toward whom she cast a hurried look +through the window, yet in her place, listening with enthralled +attention to the great tenor upon whose magnificent singing Mrs. +Ocumpaugh had relied for the successful carrying out of what she and +Mrs. Carew considered the most critical part of the plot. So far then, +all was well. She had but to drop the trap-door carefully to its place, +replace the corner of the carpet she had pulled up, push down with her +foot the two or three nails she had previously loosened, and she would +be quite at liberty to quit the place and return to her guests. + +But she found that this was not as easy as she had imagined. The clogs +of a terrible, almost a criminal, consciousness held back her steps. She +stumbled as she left the bungalow and stopped to catch her breath as if +the oppression of the room in which she had immured her darling had +infected the sunny air of this glorious day and made free breathing an +impossibility. The weights on her feet were so palpable to her that she +unconsciously looked down at them. This was how she came to notice the +dust on her shoes. Alive to the story it told, she burst the spell which +held her and made a bound toward the house. + +Rushing to her room she shook her skirts and changed her shoes, and thus +freed from all connecting links with that secret spot, reentered among +her guests, as beautiful and probably as wretched a woman as the world +contained that day. + +Yet not as wretched as she could be. There were depths beneath these +depths. If he should ever know! If he should ever come to look at her +with horrified, even alienated eyes! Ah, that were the end--that would +mean the river for her--the river which all were so soon to think had +swallowed the little Gwendolen. Was that Miss Graham coming? Was the +stir she now heard outside, the first indication of the hue and cry +which would soon ring through the whole place and her shrinking heart +as well? No, no, not yet. She could still smile, must smile and smite +her two glove-covered hands together in simulated applause of notes and +tones she did not even hear. And no one noted anything strange in that +smile or in that gracious bringing together of hands, which if any one +had had the impulse to touch-- + +But no one thought of doing that. A heart may bleed drop by drop to its +death in our full sight without our suspecting it, if the eyes above it +still beam with natural brightness. And hers did that. She had always +been called impassive. God be thanked that no warmth was expected from +her and that no one would suspect the death she was dying, if she did +not cry out. But the moment came when she did cry out. Miss Graham +entered, told her story, and all Mrs. Ocumpaugh's pent-up agony burst +its bounds in a scream which to others seemed but the natural outburst +of an alarmed mother. She fled to the bungalow, because that seemed the +natural thing to do, and never forgetting what was expected of her, +cried aloud in presence of its emptiness: "The river! the river!" and +went stumbling down the bank. + +The shoe was near her hand and she drew it out as she went on. When they +found her she had fainted; the excess of excitement has this natural +outcome. She did not have to play a part, the humiliation of her own +deed and the terrors yet to come were eating up her very soul. Then came +the blow, the unexpected, overwhelming blow of finding that the +deception planned with such care--a deception upon the success of which +the whole safety of the scheme depended--was likely to fail just for the +simple reason that a dozen men could swear that the child had never +crossed the track. She was dazed--confounded. Mrs. Carew was not by to +counsel her; she had her own part in this business to play; and Mrs. +Ocumpaugh, conscious of being mentally unfit for any new planning, +conscious indeed of not being able to think at all, simply followed her +instinct and held to the old cry in face of proof, of persuasion, of +reason even; and so, did the very wisest thing possible, no one +expecting reason in a mother reeling under such a vital shock. + +But the cooler, more subtile and less guilty Mrs. Carew had some +judgment left, if her friend had lost hers. Her own part had been well +played. She had brought her nephew home without giving any one, not even +the maid she had provided herself with in New York, an opportunity to +see his face; and she had passed him over, dressed in quite different +clothes, to the couple in the farm-wagon, who had carried him, as she +supposed, safely out of reach and any possibility of discovery. You see +her calculations failed here also. She did not credit the doctor with +even the little conscience he possessed, and, unconscious of his near +waiting on the highway in anxious watch for the event concerning which +he had his own secret doubts, she deluded herself into thinking that all +they had to fear was a continuation of the impression that Gwendolen had +not gone down to the river and been drowned. + +When, therefore, she had acted out her little part--received the +searching party and gone with them all over the house even to the door +of the room where she said her little nephew was resting after his +journey--(Did they look in? Perhaps, and perhaps not, it mattered +little, for the bed had been arranged against this contingency and no +one but a detective bent upon ferreting out crime would have found it +empty)--she asked herself how she could strengthen the situation and +cause the theory advanced by Mrs. Ocumpaugh to be received, +notwithstanding the evidence of seeming eye-witnesses. The result was +the throwing of a second shoe into the water as soon as it was dark +enough for her to do this unseen. As she had to approach the river by +her own grounds, and as she was obliged to choose a place sufficiently +remote from the lights about the dock not to incur the risk of being +detected in her hazardous attempt, the shoe fell at a spot farther down +stream than the searchers had yet reached, and the intense excitement I +had myself seen in Mrs. Ocumpaugh's face the day I made my first visit +to Homewood, sprang from the agony of suspense with which she watched, +after twenty-four hours of alternating expectation and disappointment, +the finding of this second shoe which, with fanatic confidence, she +hoped would bring all the confirmation to be desired of her oft-repeated +declaration that the child would yet be found in the river. + +Meanwhile, to the infinite dismay of both, the matter had been placed in +the hands of the police and word sent to Mr. Ocumpaugh, not that the +child was dead, but missing. This meant world-wide publicity and the +constant coming and going about Homewood of the very men whose insight +and surveillance were most to be dreaded. Mrs. Ocumpaugh sank under the +terrors thus accumulating upon her; but Mrs. Carew, of different +temperament and history, rose to meet them with a courage which bade +fair to carry everything before it. + +As midnight approached (the hour agreed upon in their compact) she +prepared to go for Gwendolen. Mrs. Ocumpaugh, who had not forgotten what +was expected of her at that hour, roused as the clock struck twelve, and +uttering a loud cry, rushed from her place in the window down to the +lawn, calling out that she had heard the men shout aloud from the boats. +Her plan was to draw every one who chanced to be about, down to the +river bank, in order to give Mrs. Carew full opportunity to go and come +unseen on her dangerous errand. And she apparently succeeded in this, +for by the time she had crept back in seeming disappointment to the +house, a light could be seen burning behind a pink shade in one of Mrs. +Carew's upper windows--the signal agreed upon between them of the +presence of Gwendolen in her new home. + +But small was the relief as yet. The shoe had not been found, and at any +moment some intruder might force his way into Mrs. Carew's house and, in +spite of all her precautions, succeed in obtaining a view of the little +Harry and recognize in him the missing child. + +Of these same precautions some mention must be made. The artful widow +had begun by dismissing all her help, giving as an excuse her speedy +departure for Europe, and the colored girl she had brought up from New +York saw no difference in the child running about the house in its +little velvet suit from the one who, with bound-up face and a heavy +shade over his eyes, came up in the cars with her in Mrs. Carew's lap. +Her duties being limited to a far-off watch on the child to see that it +came to no harm, she was the best witness possible in case of police +intrusion or neighborhood gossip. As for Gwendolen herself, the novelty +of the experience and the prospect held out by a speedy departure to +"papa's country" kept her amused and even hilarious. She laughed when +her hair was cut short, darkened and parted. She missed but one thing, +and that was her pet plaything which she used to carry to bed with her +at night. The lack of this caused some tears--a grief which was divined +by Mrs. Ocumpaugh, who took pains to assuage it in the manner we all +know. + +But this was after the finding of the second shoe; the event so long +anticipated and so little productive. Somehow, neither Mrs. Carew nor +Mrs. Ocumpaugh had taken into consideration the fact of the child's +shoes being rights and lefts, and when this attempt to second the first +deception was decided on, it was thought a matter of congratulation that +Gwendolen had been supplied with two pairs of the same make and that one +pair yet remained in her closet. The mate of that shown by Mrs. +Ocumpaugh was still on the child's foot in the bungalow, but there being +no difference in any of them, what was simpler than to take one of these +and fling it where it would be found. Alas! the one seized upon by Mrs. +Carew was for the same foot as that already shown and commented on, and +thus this second attempt failed even more completely than the first, and +people began to cry, "A conspiracy!" + +And a conspiracy it was, but one which might yet have succeeded if +Doctor Pool's suspicion of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's intentions, and my own +secret knowledge of Mrs. Ocumpaugh's real position toward this child, +could have been eliminated from the situation. But with those two +factors against them, detection had crept upon them in unknown ways, and +neither Mrs. Ocumpaugh's frantic clinging to the theory she had so +recklessly advanced, nor Mrs. Carew's determined effort to meet +suspicion with the brave front calculated to disarm it, was of any +avail. The truth would have its way and their secret stood revealed. + +This was the story told me by Mrs. Ocumpaugh; not in the continuous and +detailed manner I have here set down, but in disjointed sentences and +wild bursts of disordered speech. When it was finished she turned upon +me eyes full of haggard inquiry. + +"Our fate is in your hands," she falteringly declared. "What will you do +with it?" + +It was the hardest question which had ever been put me. For minutes I +contemplated her in a silence which must have been one prolonged agony +to her. I did not see my way; I did not see my duty. Then the fifty +thousand dollars! + +At last, I replied as follows: + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, if you will let me advise you, as a man intensely +interested in the happiness of yourself and husband, I would suggest +your meeting him at quarantine and telling him the whole truth." + +"I would rather die," said she. + +"Yet only by doing what I suggest can you find any peace in life. The +consciousness that others know your secret will come between you and any +satisfaction you can ever get out of your husband's continued +confidence. A wrong has been done; you are the only one to right it." + +"I can not. I can die, but I can not do that." + +And for a minute I thought she would die then and there. + +"Doctor Pool is a fanatic; he will pursue you until he is assured that +the child is in good hands." + +"You can assure him of that now." + +"Next month his exactions may take another direction. You can never +trust a man who thinks he has a mission. Pardon my presumption. No +mercenary motive prompts what I am saying now." + +"So you intend to publish my story, if I do not?" + +I hesitated again. Such questions can not be decided in a moment. Then, +with a certain consciousness of doing right, I answered earnestly: + +"To no one but to Mr. Ocumpaugh do I feel called upon to disclose what +really concerns no one but yourself and him." + +Her hands rose toward me in a gesture which may have been an expression +of gratitude or only one of simple appeal. + +"He is not due until Saturday," I added gently. + +No answer from the cold lips. I do not think she could have spoken if +she had tried. + + + + +XXII + +ON THE SECOND TERRACE + + +My first step on leaving Homewood was to seek a public telephone. +Calling up Doctor Pool in Yonkers, I assured him that he might rest easy +as to the young patient to whose doubtful condition he had called my +attention. That she was in good hands and was doing well. That I had +seen her and would give him all necessary particulars when I came to +interview him later in the day. To his uneasy questions I vouchsafed +little reply. I was by no means sure of the advisability of taking him +into my full confidence. It was enough for him to know that his demands +had been complied with without injury to the child. + +Before hanging up the receiver, I put him a question on my own behalf. +How was the boy in his charge? The growl he returned me was very +non-committal, and afforded me some food for thought as I turned back to +Mrs. Carew's cottage, where I now proposed to make a final visit. + +I entered from the road. The heavily wooded grounds looked desolate. The +copper beeches which are the glory of the place seemed to have lost +color since I last saw them above the intervening hedges. Even the +house, as it gradually emerged to view through the close shrubbery, wore +a different aspect from usual. In another moment I saw why. Every +shutter was closed and not a vestige of life was visible above or below. +Startled, for I had not expected quite so hasty a departure on her part, +I ran about to the side door where I had previously entered and rang fit +to wake the dead. Only solitary echoes came from within and I was about +to curse the time I had lost in telephoning to Doctor Pool, when I heard +a slight sound in the direction of the private path, and, leaping +hastily to the opening, caught the glimpse of something or somebody +disappearing down the first flight of steps. + +Did I run? You may believe I did, at least till I had descended the +first terrace; then my steps grew gradually wary and finally ceased; for +I could hear voices ahead of me on the second terrace to which I had +now come, and these voices came from persons standing still. If I rushed +on I should encounter these persons, and this was undesirable. I +accordingly paused just short of the top, and so heard what raised the +moment into one of tragic importance. + +One of the speakers was Mrs. Carew--there was no doubting this--the +other was Mr. Rathbone. From no other lips than his could I hope to hear +words uttered with such intensity, though he was guarded in his speech, +or thought he was, which is not always the same thing. + +He was pleading with her, and my heart stood still with the sense of +threatening catastrophe as I realized the attitude of the pair. He, as +every word showed, was still ignorant of Gwendolen's fate, consequently +of the identity of the child who I had every reason to believe was at +that very moment fluttering a few steps below in the care of the colored +maid, whose voice I could faintly hear; she, with his passion to meet +and quell, had this secret to maintain; hearing his wild entreaties with +one ear and listening for the possible outbursts of the +not-to-be-restrained child with the other; mad to go--to catch her train +before discovery overwhelmed her, yet not daring to hasten him, for his +mood was a man's mood and not to be denied. I felt sorry for her, and +cast about in my mind what aid to give the situation, when the passion +of his words seized me, and I forgot her position in the interest I +began to feel in his. + +"Valerie, Valerie," he was saying, "this is cruelty. You go with no good +cause that I can see--put the sea between us, and yet say no word to +make the parting endurable. You understand what I suffer--my hateful +thoughts, my dread, which is not so much dread as--Oh, that I should say +it! Oh, that I should feel it!--hope; guilty, unpardonable hope. Yet you +refuse me the little word, the kindly look, which would alleviate the +oppression of my feelings and give me the thought of you to counteract +this eternal brooding upon Gwendolen and her possible fate. I want a +promise--conditional, O God! but yet a promise; and you simply bid me to +have patience; to wait--as if a man could wait who sees his love, his +life, his future trembling in the balance against the fate of a little +child. If you loved me--" + +"Hush!" The feeling in that word was not for him. I felt it at once; it +was for her secret, threatened every instant she lingered there by some +move, by some word which might escape a thoughtless child. "You do not +understand me, Justin. You talk with no comprehension of myself or of +the event. Six months from now, if all goes well, you will see that I +have been kind, not cruel. I can not say any more; I should not have +said so much. Go back, dear friend, and let me take the train with +Harry. The sea is not impassable. We shall meet again, and then--" Did +she pause to look behind her down those steps--to make some gesture of +caution to the uneasy child? "you will forgive me for what seems cruelty +to you now. I can not do differently. With all the world weeping over +the doubtful fate of this little child, you can not expect me to--to +make any promise conditional upon her _death_." + +The man's cry drove the irony of the situation out of my mind. + +"Puerilities! all puerilities. A man's life--soul--are worth some +sacrifices. If you loved me--" A quick ingathering of his breath, then a +low moan, then the irrepressible cry she vainly sought to hush, "O +Valerie, you are silent! You do not love me! Two years of suffering! two +years of repression, then this delirium of hope, of possibility, and you +_silent_! I will trouble you no more. Gwendolen alive or Gwendolen dead, +what is it to me! I--" + +[Illustration: "HUSH! THERE IS NO DOUBT ON THAT TOPIC; THE CHILD IS +DEAD. LET THAT BE UNDERSTOOD BETWEEN US."] + +"Hush! there is no doubt on that topic; the child is _dead_. Let that be +understood between us." This was whispered, and whispered very low, but +the air seemed breathless at that moment and I heard her. "This is my +last word to you. You will have your fortune, whether you have my love +or not. Remember that, and--" + +"Auntie, make Dinah move away; I want to see the man you are talking +to." + +Gwendolen had spoken. + + + + +XXIII + +A CORAL BEAD + + +"What's that?" + +It was Mr. Rathbone who first found voice. + +"To what a state have I come when in every woman's face, even in hers +who is dearest, I see expressions I no longer understand, and in every +child's voice catch the sound of Gwendolen's?" + +"Harry's voice is not like Gwendolen's," came in desperate protest from +the ready widow. A daring assertion for her to make to him who had often +held this child in his arms for hours together. "You are not yourself, +Justin. I am sorry. I--I--" Almost she gave her promise, almost she +risked her future, possibly his, by saying, under the stress of her +fears, what her heart did not prompt her to, when-- + +A quick move on her part, a low cry on his, and he came rushing up the +steps. + +I had advanced at her hesitating words and shown myself. + +When Mr. Rathbone was well up the terrace (he hardly honored me with a +look as he went by), I slowly began my descent to where she stood with +her back toward me and her arms thrown round the child she had evidently +called to her in her anxiety to conceal the little beaming face from +this new intruder. + +That she had not looked as high as my face I felt assured; that she +would not show me hers unless I forced her to seemed equally certain. +Every step I took downward was consequently of moment to me. I wondered +how I should come out of this; what she would do; what I myself should +say. The bold course commended itself to me. No more circumlocution; no +more doubtful playing of the game with this woman. I would take the bull +by the horns and-- + +I had reached the step on which she crouched. I could catch sight of the +child's eyes over her shoulder, a shoulder that quivered--was it with +the storm of the last interview, or with her fear of this? I would see. + +Pausing, I said to her with every appearance of respect, but in my most +matter-of-fact tones: + +"Mrs. Carew, may I request you to send Gwendolen down to the girl I see +below there? I have something to say to you before you leave." + +_Gwendolen!_ + +With a start which showed how completely she was taken by surprise, Mrs. +Carew rose. She may have recognized my voice and she may not; it is hard +to decide in such an actress. Whether she did or not, she turned with a +frown, which gave way to a ravishing smile as her eyes met my face. + +"You?" she said, and without any betrayal in voice or gesture that she +recognized that her hopes, and those of the friend to whose safety she +had already sacrificed so much, had just received their death-blow, she +gave a quick order to the girl who, taking the child by the hand, sat +down on the steps Mrs. Carew now quitted and laid herself out to be +amusing. + +Gravely Mrs. Carew confronted me on the terrace below. + +"Explain," said she. + +"I have just come from Mrs. Ocumpaugh," I replied. + +The veiled head dropped a trifle. + +"She could not sustain herself! So all is lost?" + +"That depends. But I must request you not to leave the country till Mr. +Ocumpaugh returns." + +The flash of her eye startled me. "Who can detain me," she cried, "if I +wish to go?" + +I did not answer in kind. I had no wish to rouse this woman's +opposition. + +"I do not think you will want to go when you remember Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +condition. Would you leave her to bear the full burden of this deception +alone? She is a broken woman. Her full story is known to me. I have the +profoundest sympathy for her. She has only three days in which to decide +upon her course. I have advised her to tell the whole truth to her +husband." + +"You!" + +The word was but a breath, but I heard it. Yet I felt no resentment +against this woman. No one could, under the spell of so much spirit and +grace. + +"Did I not advise her right?" + +"Perhaps, but you must not detain _me_. You must do nothing to separate +me from this child. I will not bear it. I have experienced for days now +what motherhood might be, and nothing on earth shall rob me of my +present rights in this child." Then as she met my unmoved countenance: +"If you know Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole history, you know that neither she +nor her husband has any real claim on the child." + +"In that you are mistaken," I quickly protested. "Six years of care and +affection such as they have bestowed on Gwendolen, to say nothing of the +substantial form which these have taken from the first, constitute a +claim which all the world must recognize, if you do not. Think of Mr. +Ocumpaugh's belief in her relation to him! Think of the shock which +awaits him, when he learns that she is not of his blood and lineage!" + +"I know, I know." Her fingers worked nervously; the woman was showing +through the actress. "But I will not give up the child. Ask anything but +that." + +"Madam, I have had the honor so far to make but one requirement--that +you do not carry the child out of the country--yet." + +As I uttered this ultimatum, some influence, acting equally upon both, +caused us to turn in the direction of the river; possibly an +apprehension lest some word of this conversation might be overheard by +the child or the nurse. A surprise awaited us which effectually +prevented Mrs. Carew's reply. In the corner of the Ocumpaugh grounds +stood a man staring with all his eyes at the so-called little Harry. An +expression of doubt was on his face. I knew the minute to be critical +and was determined to make the most of it. + +"Do you know that man?" I whispered to Mrs. Carew. + +The answer was brief but suggestive of alarm. + +"Yes, one of the gardeners over there--one of whom Gwendolen is +especially fond." + +"She's the one to fear, then. Engage his attention while I divert hers." + +All this in a whisper while the man was summoning up courage to speak. + +"A pretty child," he stammered, as Mrs. Carew advanced toward him +smiling. "Is that your little nephew I've heard them tell about? Seems +to me he looks like our own little lost one; only darker and sturdier." + +"Much sturdier," I heard her say as I made haste to accost the child. + +"Harry," I cried, recalling my old address when I was in training for a +gentleman; "your aunt is in a hurry. The cars are coming; don't you hear +the whistle? Will you trust yourself to me? Let me carry you--I mean +pick-a-back, while we run for the train." + +The sweet eyes looked up--it was fortunate for Mrs. Carew that no one +but myself had ever got near enough to see those eyes or she could +hardly have kept her secret--and at first slowly, then with instinctive +trust, the little arms rose and I caught her to my breast, taking care +as I did so to turn her quite away from the man whom Mrs. Carew was +about leaving. + +"Come!" I shouted back, "we shall be late!"--and made a dash for the +gate. + +Mrs. Carew joined me, and none of us said anything till we reached the +station platform. Then as I set the child down, I gave her one look. She +was beaming with gratitude. + +"That saved us, together with the few words I could edge in between his +loud regrets at my going and his exclamations of grief over Gwendolen's +loss. On the train I shall fear nothing. If you will lift him up I will +wrap him in this shawl as if he were ill. Once in New York--are you not +going to permit me?" + +"To go to New York, yes; but not to the steamer." + +She showed anger, but also an admirable self-control. Far off we could +catch the sounding thrill of the approaching train. + +"I yield," she announced suddenly. And opening the bag at her side, she +fumbled in it for a card which she presently put in my hand. "I was +going there for lunch," she explained. "Now I will take a room and +remain until I hear from you." Here she gave me a quick look. "You do +not appear satisfied." + +"Yes, yes," I stammered, as I looked at the card and saw her name over +that of an inconspicuous hotel in the down-town portion of New York +City. "I merely--" + +The nearing of the train gave me the opportunity of cutting short the +sentence I should have found it difficult to finish. + +"Here is the child," I exclaimed, lifting the little one, whom she +immediately enveloped in the light but ample wrap she had chosen as a +disguise. + +"Good-by--Harry." + +"Good-by! I like you. Your arms are strong and you don't shake me when +you run." + +Mrs. Carew smiled. There was deep emotion in her face. "_Au revoir!_" +she murmured in a tone implying promise. Happily I understood the French +phrase. + +I bowed and drew back. Was I wrong in letting her slip from my +surveillance? The agitation I probably showed must have caused her some +thought. But she would have been more than a diviner of mysteries to +have understood its cause. Her bag, when she had opened it before my +eyes, had revealed among its contents a string of remarkable corals. A +bead similar in shape, color and marking rested at that very moment over +my own heart. Was that necklace one bead short? With a start of +conviction I began to believe so and that I was the man who could +complete it. If that was so--why, then--then-- + +It isn't often that a detective's brain reels--but mine did then. + +The train began to move-- + +This discovery, the greatest of all, if I were right, would-- + +I had no more time to think. + +Instinctively, with a quick jump, I made my place good on the rear car. + + + + +XXIV + +"SHALL I GIVE HIM MY WORD, HARRY?" + + +I did not go all the way to New York on the train which Mrs. Carew and +the child had taken. I went only as far as Yonkers. + +When I reached Doctor Pool's house, I thought it entirely empty. Even +the office seemed closed. But appearances here could not always be +trusted, and I rang the bell with a vigor which must have awakened +echoes in the uninhabited upper stories. I know that it brought the +doctor to the door, and in a state of doubtful amiability. But when he +saw who awaited him, his appearance changed and he welcomed me in with a +smile or what was as nearly like one as his austere nature would permit. + +"How now! Want your money? Seems to me you have earned it with +unexpected ease." + +"Not such great ease," I replied, as he carefully closed the door and +locked it. "I know that I feel as tired as I ever did in my life. The +child is in New York under the guardianship of a woman who is really +fond of her. You can dismiss all care concerning her." + +"I see--and who is the woman? Name her." + +"You do not trust me, I see." + +"I trust no one in business matters." + +"This is not a business matter--yet." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have not asked for money. I am not going to till I can perfectly +satisfy you that all deception is at an end so far as Mr. Ocumpaugh at +least is concerned." + +"Oh, you would play fair, I see." + +I was too interested in noting how each of his hands involuntarily +closed on itself, in his relief at not being called upon to part with +some of his hoardings, to answer with aught but a nod. + +"You have your reasons for keeping close, of course," he growled as he +led the way toward the basement stairs. "You're not out of the woods, is +that it? Or has the great lady bargained with you?--Um? Um?" + +He threw the latter ejaculations back over his shoulder as he descended +to the office. They displeased me, and I made no attempt to reply. In +fact, I had no reply ready. Had I bargained with Mrs. Ocumpaugh? Hardly. +Yet-- + +"She is handsome enough," the old man broke in sharply, cutting in two +my self-communings. "You're a fellow of some stamina, if you have got at +her secret without making her a promise. So the child is well! That's +good! There's one long black mark eliminated from my account. But I have +not closed the book, and I am not going to, till my conscience has +nothing more to regret. It is not enough that the child is handed over +to a different life; the fortunes that have been bequeathed her must be +given to him who would have inherited them had this child not been taken +for a veritable Ocumpaugh." + +"That raises a nice point," I said. + +"But one that will drag all false things to light." + +"Your action in the matter along with the rest," I suggested. + +"True! but do you think I shall stop because of that?" + +He did not look as if he would stop because of anything. + +"Do you not think Mrs. Ocumpaugh worthy some pity? Her future is a +ghastly one, whichever way you look at it." + +"She sinned," was his uncompromising reply. "The wages of sin is death." + +"But such death!" I protested; "death of the heart, which is the worst +death of all." + +He shrugged his shoulders, leading the way into the office. + +"Let her beware!" he went on surlily. "Last month I saw my duty no +further than the exaction of this child's dismissal from the home whose +benefits she enjoyed under a false name. To-day I am led further by the +inexorable guide which prompts the anxious soul. All that was wrong must +be made good. Mr. Ocumpaugh must know on whom his affections have been +lavished. I will not yield. The woman has done wrong; and she shall +suffer for it till she rises, a redeemed soul, into a state of mind that +prefers humiliation to a continuance in a life of deception. You may +tell her what I say--that is, if you enjoy the right of conversation +with her." + +The look he shot me at this was keen as hate and spite could make it. I +was glad that we were by this time in the office, and that I could +avoid his eye by a quick look about the well-remembered place. This +proof of the vindictive pursuit he had marked out for himself was no +surprise to me. I expected no less, yet it opened up difficulties which +made my way, as well as hers, look dreary in the prospect. He perceived +my despondency and smiled; then suddenly changed his tone. + +"You do not ask after the little patient I have here. Come, Harry, come; +here is some one I will let you see." + +The door of my old room swung open and I do not know which surprised me +most, the kindness in the rugged old voice I had never before heard +lifted in tenderness, or the look of confidence and joy on the face of +the little boy who now came running in. So inexorable to a remorseful +and suffering woman, and so full of consideration for a stranger's +child! + +"Almost well," pronounced the doctor, and lifted him on his knee. "Do +you know this child's parentage and condition?" he sharply inquired, +with a quick look toward me. + +I saw no reason for not telling the truth. + +"He is an orphan, and was destined for an institution." + +"You know this?" + +"Positively." + +"Then I shall keep the child. Harry, will you stay with me?" + +To my amazement, the little arms crept round his neck. A smile grim +enough, in my estimation, but not at all frightful to the child, +responded to this appeal. + +"I did not like the old man and woman," he said. + +Doctor Pool's whole manner showed triumph. "I shall treat him better +than I did you," he remarked. "I am a regenerate man now." + +I bowed; I was very uneasy; there was a question I wanted to ask and +could not in the presence of this child. + +"He is hardly of an age to take my place," I observed, still under the +spell of my surprise, for the child was handling the old man's long +beard, and seeming almost as happy as Gwendolen did in Mrs. Carew's +arms. + +"He will have one of his own," was the doctor's unexpected reply. + +I rose. I saw that he did not intend to dismiss the child. + +"I should like your word, in return for the relief I have undoubtedly +brought you, that you will not molest certain parties till the three +days are up which I have mentioned as the limit of my own silence." + +"Shall I give him my word, Harry?" + +The child, startled by the abrupt address, drew his fingers from the +long beard he was playfully stroking and, eyeing me with elfish gravity, +seemed to ponder the question as if some comprehension of its importance +had found entrance into his small brain. Annoyed at the doctor's whim, +yet trusting to the child's intuition, I waited with inner anxiety for +what those small lips would say, and felt an infinite relief, even if I +did not show it, when he finally uttered a faint "Yes," and hid his face +again on the doctor's breast. + +My last remembrance of them both was the picture they made as the doctor +closed the door upon me, with the sweet, confiding child still clasped +in his arms. + + + + +XXV + +THE WORK OF AN INSTANT + + +I did not take the car at the corner. I was sure that Jupp was somewhere +around, and I had a new mission for him of more importance than any he +could find here now. I was just looking about for him when I heard cries +and screams at my back, and, turning, saw several persons all running +one way. As that way was the one by which I had just come, I commenced +running too, and in another moment was one of a crowd collected before +the doctor's door. I mean the great front door which, to my +astonishment, I had already seen was wide open. The sight which there +met my eyes almost paralyzed me. + +Stretched on the pavement, spotted with blood, lay the two figures I had +seen within the last five minutes beaming with life and energy. The old +man was dead, the child dying, one little hand outstretched as if in +search of the sympathetic touch which had made the last few hours +perhaps the sweetest of his life. How had it happened? Was it suicide on +the doctor's part or just pure accident? Either way it was horrible, +but--I looked about me; there was a man ready to give explanations. He +had seen it all. The doctor had been racing with the child in the long +hall. He had opened the door, probably for air. A sudden dash of the +child had brought him to the verge, the doctor had plunged to save him, +and losing his balance toppled headlong to the street, carrying the +child with him. + +It was all the work of an instant. + +One moment two vigorous figures--the next, a mass of crushed humanity! + +A sight to stagger a man's soul! But the thought which came with it +staggered me still more. + +The force which had been driving Mrs. Ocumpaugh to her fate was removed. +Henceforth her secret was safe if--if I chose to have it so. + + + + +XXVI + +"HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE" + + +I was walking away when a man touched me. Some one had seen me come from +the doctor's office a few minutes before. Of course this meant detention +till the coroner should arrive. I quarreled with the circumstances but +felt forced to submit. Happily Jupp now came to the front and I was able +to send him to New York to keep that watch over Mrs. Carew, without +which I could not have rested quiet an hour. One great element of danger +was removed most remarkably, if not providentially, from the path I had +marked out for myself; but there still remained that of this woman's +possible impulses under her great determination to keep Gwendolen in her +own care. But with Jupp to watch the dock, and a man in plain clothes at +the door of the small hotel she was at present bound for, I thought I +might remain in Yonkers contentedly the whole day. + +It was not, however, till late the next afternoon that I found myself +again in Homewood. I had heard from Jupp. The steamer had sailed, but +without two passengers who had been booked for the voyage. Mrs. Carew +and the child were still at the address she had given me. All looked +well in that direction; but what was the aspect of affairs in Homewood? +I trembled in some anticipation of what these many hours of bitter +thought might have effected in Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Evidently nothing to +lessen the gloom into which the whole household had now fallen. Miss +Porter, who came in haste to greet me, wore the careworn look of a long +and unrelieved vigil. I was not astonished when she told me that she had +not slept a wink. + +"How could I," she asked, "when Mrs. Ocumpaugh did not close her eyes? +She did not even lie down, but sat all night in an arm-chair which she +had wheeled into Gwendolen's room, staring like one who sees nothing out +into the night through the window which overlooks the river. This +morning we can not make her speak. Her eyes are dry with fever; only now +and then she utters a little moan. The doctor says she will not live to +see her husband, unless something comes to rouse her. But the papers +give no news, and all the attempts of the police end in nothing. You saw +what a dismal failure their last attempt was. The child on which they +counted proved to be both red-haired and pock-marked. Gwendolen appears +to be lost, lost." + +In spite of the despair thus expressed my way seemed to open a little. + +"I think I can break Mrs. Ocumpaugh's dangerous apathy if you will let +me see her again. Will you let me try?" + +"The nurse--we have a nurse now--will not consent, I fear." + +"Then telephone to the doctor. Tell him I am the only man who can do +anything for Mrs. Ocumpaugh. This will not be an exaggeration." + +"Wait! I will get his order. I do not know why I have so much confidence +in you." + +In another fifteen minutes she came to lead me to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. + +I entered without knocking; they told me to. She was seated, as they +said, in a large chair, but with no ease to herself; for she was not +even leaning against its back, but sat with body strained forward and +eyes fixed on the ripple of the great river where, from what she had +intimated to me in our last interview, she probably saw her grave. There +was a miniature in her hand, but I saw at first glance that it was not +the face of Gwendolen over which her fingers closed so spasmodically. It +was her husband's portrait which she held, and it was his face, aroused +and full of denunciation, which she evidently saw in her fancy as I drew +nearer her in my efforts to attract her attention; for a shiver suddenly +contracted her lovely features and she threw her arms out as if to ward +from herself something which she had no power to meet. In doing this her +head turned slightly and she saw me. + +Instantly the spell under which she sat frozen yielded to a recognition +of something besides her own terrible brooding. She let her arms drop, +and the lips which had not spoken that morning moved slightly. I waited +respectfully. I saw that in another moment she would speak. + +"You have come," she panted out at last, "to hear my decision. It is +too soon. The steamer has twenty-four hours yet before it can make port. +I have not finished weighing my life against the good opinion of him I +live for." Then faintly--"Mrs. Carew has gone." + +"To New York," I finished. + +"No farther than that?" she asked anxiously. "She has not sailed?" + +"I did not see how it was compatible with my duty to let her." + +Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole form collapsed; the dangerous apathy was creeping +over her again. "You are deciding for me,"--she spoke very faintly--"you +and Doctor Pool." + +Should I tell her that Doctor Pool was dead? No, not yet. I wanted her +to choose the noble course for Mr. Ocumpaugh's sake--yes, and for her +own. + +"No," I ventured to rejoin. "You are the only one who can settle your +own fate. The word must come from you. I am only trying to make it +possible for you to meet your husband without any additional wrong to +blunt his possible forgiveness." + +"Oh, he will never forgive--and I have lost all." + +And the set look returned in its full force. + +I made my final attempt. + +"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, we may never have another moment together in +confidence. There is one thing I have never told you, something which I +think you ought to know, as it may affect your whole future course. It +concerns Gwendolen's real mother. You say you do not know her." + +"No, no; do not bring up that. I do not want to know her. My darling is +happy with Mrs. Carew--too happy. O God! Give me no opportunity for +disturbing that contentment. Don't you see that I am consumed with +jealousy? That I might--" + +She was roused enough now, cheek and lip and brow were red; even her +eyes looked blood-shot. Alarmed, I put out my hand in a soothing +gesture, and when her voice stopped and her words trailed off into an +inarticulate murmur I made haste to say: + +"Listen to my little story. It will not add to your pain, rather +alleviate it. When I hid behind the curtain on that day we all regret, I +did not slip from my post at your departure. I knew that another patient +awaited the doctor's convenience in my own small room, where he had +hastily seated her when your carriage drove up. I also knew that this +patient had overheard what you said as well as I, for impervious as the +door looked I had often heard the doctor's mutterings when he thought I +was safe beyond ear-shot, if not asleep. And I wanted to see how she +would act when she rejoined the doctor; for I had heard a little of what +she had said before, and was quite aware that she could help you out of +your difficulty if she wished. She was a married woman, or rather had +been, but she had no use for a child, being very poor and anxious to +earn her own living. Would she embrace this opportunity to part with it +when it came? You may imagine my interest, boy though I was." + +"And did she? Was she--" + +"Yes. She was ready to make her compact with the doctor just as you had +done. Before she left everything was arranged for. It was her child you +took--reared--loved--and have now lost." + +At another time she might have resented these words, especially the +last; but I had roused her curiosity, her panting eager curiosity, and +she let them pass altogether unchallenged. + +"Did you see this woman? Was she of common blood, common manners? It +does not seem possible--Gwendolen is by nature so dainty in all her +ways." + +"The woman was a lady. I did not see her face, it was heavily veiled, +but I heard her voice; it was a lady's voice and--" + +"What?" + +"She wore beautiful jewels." + +"Jewels? You said she was poor." + +"So she declared herself, but she had on her neck under her coat a +string of beads which were both valuable and of exquisite workmanship. I +know, because it broke just as she was leaving, and the beads fell all +over the floor, and one rolled my way and I picked it up, scamp that I +was, when both their backs were turned in their search for the others." + +"A bead--a costly bead--and you were not found out?" + +"No, Mrs. Ocumpaugh, she never seemed to miss it. She was too excited +over what she had just done to count correctly. She thought she had +them all. But this has been in my pocket for six years. Perhaps you have +seen its like; I never have, in jeweler's shop or elsewhere, till +yesterday." + +"Yesterday?" Her great eyes, haggard with suffering, rose to mine, then +they fell on the bead which I had taken from my pocket. The cry she gave +was not loud, but it effectually settled all my doubts. + +"What did you know of Mrs. Carew before she came to ----?" I asked +impressively. + +For minutes she did not answer; she was trembling like a leaf. + +"Her mother!" she exclaimed at last. "Her mother! her own mother! And +she never hinted it to me by word or look. Oh, Valerie, Valerie, what +tortures we have both suffered! and now you are happy while I--" + +Grief seemed to engulf her. Feeling my position keenly, I walked to the +window, but soon turned and came back in response to her cry: "I must +see Mrs. Carew instantly. Give my orders. I will start at once to New +York. They will think I have gone to be on hand to meet Mr. Ocumpaugh, +and will say that I have not the strength. Override their objections. I +put my whole cause in your hands. You will go with me?" + +"With pleasure, madam." + +And thus was that terrifying apathy broken up, to be succeeded by a +spell of equally terrifying energy. + + + + +XXVII + +THE FINAL STRUGGLE + + +She, however, did not get off that night. I dared not push the matter to +the point of awakening suspicion, and when the doctor said that the ship +was not due for twenty hours and that it would be madness for her to +start without a night's rest and two or three good meals, I succumbed +and she also to the few hours' delay. More than that, she consented to +retire, and when I joined her in her carriage the following morning, it +was to find her physically stronger, even if the mind was still a prey +to deepest anguish and a torturing indecision. Her nurse accompanied us +and the maid called Celia, so conversation was impossible--a fact I did +not know whether to be thankful for or not. On the cars she was shielded +as much as possible from every one's gaze, and when we reached New York +we were driven at once to the Plaza. As I noticed the respect and +intense sympathy with which her presence was met by those who saw +nothing in her broken aspect but a mother's immeasurable grief, I +wondered at the secrets which lie deep down in the hearts of humanity, +and what the effect would be if I should suddenly shout aloud: + +"She is more wretched than you think. Her suspense is one that the +child's return would not appease. Dig deeper into mortal fear and woe if +you would know what has changed this beautiful woman into a shadow in +five days." + +And I myself did not know her mind. I could neither foresee what she +contemplated nor what the effect of seeing the child again would have +upon her. I only knew that she must never for a moment be out of sight +of some one who loved her. I myself never left the hall upon which her +room opened, a precaution for which I felt grateful when, late in the +evening, she opened the door and, seeing me, stepped out fully dressed +for the street. + +"Come and tell Sister Angelina that I may be trusted with you," she +said. Sister Angelina was the nurse. + +Of course I did as she bade me, and after some few more difficulties I +succeeded in getting her into a carriage without attracting any special +attention. Once there she breathed more easily, and so did I. + +"Now take me to _her_," she said. Whether she meant Mrs. Carew or +Gwendolen, I never knew. + +I now saw that the hour had come for telling her that she no longer need +have any fear of Doctor Pool. Whatever she contemplated must be done +with a true knowledge of where she stood and to just what extent her +secret remained endangered. I do not know if she felt grateful. I almost +think that for the first few minutes she felt rather frightened than +relieved to find herself free to act as her wishes and the preservation +of her place in her husband's heart and the world's regard impelled her. +For she never for a moment seemed to doubt that now the doctor was gone. +I would yield to her misery and prove myself the friend she had begged +me to be from the first. She turned herself toward me and sought to read +my face, but it was rather to find out what I expected of her than what +she had yet to fear from me. I noted this and muttered some words of +confidence; but her mood had already changed, and they fell on deaf +ears. + +I was not present at the meeting of the two women. That is, I remained +in what they would call a private parlor, while Mrs. Ocumpaugh passed +into the inner room, where she knew she would find Mrs. Carew and the +child. Nor did I hear much. Some words came through the partition. I +caught most of Mrs. Carew's explanation of how she came to give up her +new-born child. She was an actress at the time with a London success to +her credit, but with no hold as yet in this country. She was booked for +a tour the coming season; the husband who might have seen to the child +was dead; she had no friends, no relatives here save a brother poorer +than herself, and the mother instinct had not awakened. She bartered her +child away as she would have parted with any other encumbrance likely to +interfere with her career. But--here her voice rose and I heard +distinctly: "A fortune was suddenly left me. An old admirer dying abroad +bequeathed me two million dollars, and I found myself rich, admired and +independent, with no one on earth to care for or to share the happiness +of what seemed to me, after the brilliant life I had hitherto led, a +dreary inaction. Love had no interest for me. I had had a husband, and +that part of my nature had been satisfied. What I wanted now--and the +wish presently grew into a passion--was my child. From passion it grew +to mania. Knowing the name of her to whom I had yielded it (I had +overheard it in the doctor's office), I hunted up your residence and +came one day to Homewood. + +"Perhaps some old servant can be found there to-day who could tell you +of the strange, deeply veiled lady who was found one evening at sunset, +clinging to the gate with both hands and sobbing as she looked in at the +triumphant little heiress racing up and down the walks with the great +mastiff, Don. They will say that it was some poor crazy woman, or some +mother who had buried her own little darling; but it was I, Marion, it +was I, looking upon the child I had sold for a half-year's independence; +I who was broken-hearted now for her smiles and touches and saw them all +given to strangers, who had made her a princess, but who could never +give her such love as I felt for her then in my madness. I went away +that time, but I came again soon with the titles of the adjoining +property in my pocket. I could not keep away from the sight of her, and +felt that the torture would be less to see her in your arms than not to +see her at all." + +The answer was not audible, but I could well imagine what it was. As +every one knew, the false mother had not long held out against the +attractions of the true one. Instinct had drawn the little one to the +heart that beat responsive to its own. + +What followed I could best judge from the frightened cry which the child +suddenly gave. She had evidently waked to find both women at her +bedside. Mrs. Carew's "Hush! hush!" did not answer this time; the child +was in a frenzy, and evidently turned from one to the other, sobbing out +alternately, "I will not be a girl again. I like my horse and going to +papa and sailing on the big ocean, in trousers and a little cap," and +the softer phrases she evidently felt better suited to Mrs. Ocumpaugh's +deep distress: "Don't feel bad, mamma, you shall come see me some time. +Papa will send for you. I am going to him." Then silence, then such a +struggle of woman-heart with woman-heart as I hope never to be witness +to again. Mrs. Ocumpaugh was pleading with Mrs. Carew, not for the +child, but for her life. Mr. Ocumpaugh would be in port the next +morning; if she could show him the child all would be well. Mr. Trevitt +would manage the details; take the credit of having found Gwendolen +somewhere in this great city, and that would insure him the reward and +them his silence. (I heard this.) There was no one else to fear. Doctor +Pool, the cause of all this misery, was dead; and in the future, her +heart being set to rest about her secret, she would be happier and make +the child happier, and they could enjoy her between them, and she would +be unselfish and let Gwendolen spend an hour or more every day with Mrs. +Carew, on some such plea as lessons in vocal-training and music. + +Thus pleaded Mrs. Ocumpaugh. + +But the mother hardly listened. She had eaten with the child, slept with +the child and almost breathed with the child for three days now, and the +ecstasy of the experience had blinded her to any other claim than her +own. She pitied Mrs. Ocumpaugh, pitied most of all her deceived +husband, but no grief of theirs could equal that of Rachel crying for +her child. Let Mrs. Ocumpaugh remember that when the evil days come. She +had separated child from mother! child from mother! Oh, how the wail +swept through those two rooms! + +I dared not prophesy to myself at this point how this would end. I +simply waited. + +Their voices had sunk after each passionate outbreak, and I was only +able to catch now and then a word which told me that the struggle was +yet going on. + +But finally there came a lull, and while I wondered, the door flew +suddenly open and I saw Mrs. Ocumpaugh standing on the threshold, pallid +and stricken, looking back at the picture made by the other two as Mrs. +Carew, fallen on her knees by the bedside, held to her breast the +panting child. + +"I can not go against nature," said she. "Keep Gwendolen, and may God +have pity upon me and Philo." + +I stepped forward. Meeting my eye, she faltered this last word: + +"Your advice was good. To-morrow when I meet my husband I will tell him +who found the child and why that child is not at my side to greet him." + + * * * * * + +That night I had a vision. I saw a door--shut, ominous. Before that door +stood a woman, tall, pale, beautiful. She was there to enter, but to +what no mortal living could say. She saw nothing but loss and the +hollowness of a living death behind that closed door. + +But who knows? Angels spring up unknown on the darkest road, and +perhaps-- + +Here the vision broke; the day and its possibilities lay before me. + + +THE END + + + + +A LIST _of_ IMPORTANT FICTION +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY + + + + +A ROMANCE OF AMERICAN CHIVALRY + + * * * * * + +THE LAW +OF THE LAND + + +Of Miss Lady, whom it involved in mystery, and of +John Eddring, gentleman of the South, +who read its deeper meaning + + +By EMERSON HOUGH, Author of The Mississippi Bubble + + * * * * * + +Romantic, unhackneyed, imaginative, touched with humor, full of spirit +and dash. + + _Chicago Record Herald_ + +So virile, so strong, so full of the rare qualities of beauty and truth. + + _New York Press_ + +A powerful novel, vividly presented. The action is rapid and dramatic, +and the romance holds the reader with irresistible force. + + _Detroit Tribune_ + +Pre-eminently superior to any literary creation of the day. Its +naturalness places it on the plane of immortality. + + _New York American_ + + +Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +A THOROUGHBRED GIRL + + * * * * * + +ZELDA DAMERON + + +By MEREDITH NICHOLSON +Author of The Main Chance + + * * * * * + +Zelda Dameron is in all ways a splendid and successful story. There is +about it a sweetness, a wholesomeness and a sturdiness that will commend +it to earnest, kindly and wholesome people. + + _Boston Transcript_ + +The whole story is thoroughly American. It is lively and breezy +throughout--a graphic description of a phase of life in the Middle West. + + _Toledo Blade_ + +A love story of a peculiarly sweet and attractive sort,--the +interpretation of a girl's life, the revelation of a human heart. + + _New Orleans Picayune_ + + +With portraits of the characters in color +By John Cecil Clay + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +LOVE IN LIVERY + + * * * * * + +THE MAN +ON THE BOX + + +By HAROLD MACGRATH +Author of The Puppet Crown and The Grey Cloak + + * * * * * + +This is the brightest, most sparkling book of the season, crisp as a new +greenback, telling a most absorbing story in the most delightful way. +There never was a book which held the reader more fascinated. + + _Albany Times-Union_ + +The best novel of the year. + + _Seattle Post-Intelligencer_ + +Satire that stops short of caricature, humor that never descends to +burlesque, sentiment that is too wholesome and genuine to verge upon +sentimentality, these are reasons enough for liking The Man on the Box, +quite aside from the fact that it is a refreshing novelty in fiction. + + _New York Globe_ + + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +HEARTS, GOLD AND SPECULATION + + * * * * * + +BLACK FRIDAY + + +By FREDERIC S. ISHAM +Author of The Strollers and Under the Rose + + * * * * * + +There is much energy, much spirit, in this romance of the gold corner. +Distinctly an opulent and animated tale. + + _New York Sun_ + +Black Friday fascinates by its compelling force and grips by its human +intensity. No better or more absorbing novel has been published in a +decade. + + _Newark Advertiser_ + +The love story is handled with infinite skill. The pictures of "the +street" and its thrilling, pulsating life are given with rare power. + + _Boston Herald_ + + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +WANTED: +A COOK + + +BY ALAN DALE + + * * * * * + +An uproariously funny comedy-novel of a self-conscious couple in contact +with the servant question. Their ludicrous predicaments with their cooks +are described with a light, farcical quality and a satire that never +fail to entertain. + +"A good story well told. In every sentence a hearty laugh and many an +irrepressible chuckle of mirth." + + _New York American_ + + +Bound in decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.50 + + + + +FULL OF DAINTY CHARM + + * * * * * + +THE GIRL AND +THE KAISER + + +BY PAULINE BRADFORD MACKIE + + * * * * * + +"An amusing love story, which is certain to win instant favor. Fresh, +enthusiastic, and daintily lyrical." + + _Philadelphia Item_ + +"A charming little book, artistically made, is 'The Girl and the +Kaiser'; one that can be recommended for pleasing entertainment without +reserve." + + _St. Louis Globe-Democrat_ + +Here is a beautiful and delightfully seasonable volume that everybody +will want. The story is a bubbling romance of the German imperial court +with an American girl heroine. + + +Decorated and illustrated in color by +John Cecil Clay + +12mo, cloth, $1.50 + + + + +A STORY OF THE SIMPLE LIFE + + * * * * * + +THE +HAPPY AVERAGE + + +By BRAND WHITLOCK +Author of The 13th District and Her Infinite Variety + + * * * * * + +Mr. Whitlock has done more than simply repeat his earlier success. He +has achieved a new one. In The Happy Average he has voiced a deep-seated +human sympathy for the unheroic. + + _Life_ + +A most delightful romance that is as fresh as the flowers of May. + + _Pittsburg Leader_ + +As an example of a good, healthy, entertaining and human story, The +Happy Average must be given a place in the front rank. + + _Nashville American_ + +Not only the best book that has come from Mr. Whitlock's pen, but a +really noteworthy achievement in fiction. + + _Chicago Tribune_ + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +THE LIFE AND LOVES OF LORD BYRON + + * * * * * + +THE +CASTAWAY + + +"Three great men ruined in one year--a king, a cad and a +castaway."--_Byron_. + + +BY HALLIE ERMINIE RIVES +Author of Hearts Courageous + + * * * * * + +Lord Byron's personal beauty, his brilliancy, his genius, his possession +of a title, his love affairs, his death in a noble cause, all make him +the most magnetic figure in English literature. In Miss Rives's novel +the incidents of his career stand out in absorbing power and enthralling +force. + +The most profoundly sympathetic, vivid and true portrait of Byron ever +drawn. + + Calvin Dill Wilson, author of _Byron--Man and Poet_ + +Dramatic scenes, thrilling incidents, strenuous events follow one +another; pathos, revenge and passion; a strong love; and through all +these, under all these, is the poet, the man, George Gordon. + + _Grand Rapids Herald_ + + +With eight illustrations in color by +Howard Chandler Christy + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.00 everywhere + + + + +A BOOK TO MAKE THE SPHINX LAUGH + + * * * * * + +IN THE BISHOP'S +CARRIAGE + + +BY MIRIAM MICHELSON + + * * * * * + +From the moment when, in another girl's chinchilla coat, Nance Olden +jumps into the unknown carriage, and, snuggling up to the solemn owner, +calls him "Daddy," till she makes her final bow, a happy wife and a +triumphant actress, she holds your fancy captive and your heart in +thrall. + +If jaded novel readers want a new sensation, they will get it here. + + _Chicago Tribune_ + +For genuine, unaffected enjoyment, read the adventures of this dashing +desperado in petticoats. + + _Philadelphia Item_ + +It is beguiling, bewitching, bristling with originality; light enough +for the laziest invalid to rest his brain over, profound enough to serve +as a sermon to the humanitarian. + + _San Francisco Bulletin_ + + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +A ROMANCE OF THE DOLLAR MARK + + * * * * * + +THE COST + + +BY DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIPS +Author of Golden Fleece + + * * * * * + +A masterly novel, interesting to the point of fascination, analytic to +the point of keenness, thoroughly well written with complete +understanding, and entirely committed to advocacy of the best things in +life. + + Wallace Rice in _Chicago Examiner_ + +Rapid and vivid, sure and keen, light and graceful. + + _New York Times_ + +It is a story full of virile impulse. It treats of men of hardy +endeavor, battling for leadership in the world of commerce and politics. +If you want a novel that is intensely modern and intensely full of speed +and spirit, you have it in The Cost. + + Bailey Millard in _San Francisco Examiner_ + + +With sixteen illustrations by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +LOVE, POLITICS AND PELF + + * * * * * + +THE +GRAFTERS + + +BY FRANCIS LYNDE +Author of The Master of Appleby + + * * * * * + +One of the best examples of a new and distinctly American class of +fiction--the kind which finds romance and even sensational excitement in +business, politics, finance and law. + + _The Outlook_ + +Its sweeping sentences fire the blood like new wine. + + _Boston Post_ + +Telephone, telegraph, locomotive, skirl, click, thunder through the +pages in a way unprecedented in fiction. It is an amazingly modern book. + + _New York Times_ + +Virile, with the rugged strength of the West, The Grafters is like the +current of a deep river, vigorous and forceful. + + _Louisville Courier-Journal_ + + +Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +A GOOD DETECTIVE STORY + + * * * * * + +THE +FILIGREE BALL + + +By ANNA KATHERINE GREEN +Author of "The Leavenworth Case" + + * * * * * + +This is something more than a mere detective story; it is a thrilling +romance--a romance of mystery and crime where a shrewd detective helps +to solve the mystery. The plot is a novel and intricate one, carefully +worked out. There are constant accessions to the main mystery, so that +the reader can not possibly imagine the conclusion. The story is +clean-cut and wholesome, with a quality that might be called manly. The +characters are depicted so as to make a living impression. Cora Tuttle +is a fine creation, and the flash of love which she gives the hero is +wonderfully well done. Unlike many mystery stories The Filigree Ball is +not disappointing at the end. The characters most liked but longest +suspected are proved not only guiltless, but above suspicion. It is a +story to be read with a rush and at a sitting, for no one can put it +down until the mystery is solved. + + +Illustrated by C. M. Relyea + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +AN ANGEL OF THE TEXAS PLAINS + + * * * * * + +HULDAH + +Proprietor of the Wagon-Tire House and Genial +Philosopher of the Cattle Country + + +By ALICE MACGOWAN +and +GRACE MACGOWAN COOKE + + * * * * * + +A book that will brighten your hope, broaden your charity, and keep you +mellow with its humor. + + _Minneapolis Journal_ + +It is cram full of human nature. There is nobody like Aunt Huldah in any +other book, and it is a good thing that she got into this one. + + _Washington Times_ + +The book with its western breezes, homely philosophy, queer characters +and big hearts, is almost as exhilarating as the heroine must have been +herself. + + _Baltimore Herald_ + +Aunt Huldah is the kind of a woman loved by the whole world, and the +novel is the most attractive since the days of David Harum. + + _Indianapolis Star_ + + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + + For the man who can rejoice at a book that is not trivial; + For the man who feels the power of Egypt's marvelous past; + For the man who is stirred at heart by the great scenes of the Bible; + For the man who likes a story and knows when it is good. + + * * * * * + +THE YOKE + + +A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed +the Children of Israel from the +Bondage of Egypt + + * * * * * + +A theme that captures the imagination: Israel's deliverance from Egypt. + +Characters famous for all time: Moses, the Pharaoh, Prince Rameses. + +Scenes of natural and supernatural power; the finding of the signet, the +turning of the Nile into blood, the passage of the Red Sea. + +A background of brilliant color: the rich and varied life of Thebes and +Memphis. + +A plot of intricate interest: a love story of enduring beauty. Such is +"The Yoke." + + +Ornamental cloth binding. 626 pages + +Price $1.50 + + + + +ART AND ARIZONA + + * * * * * + +A GINGHAM +ROSE + + +By ALICE WOODS ULLMAN +Author of Edges + + * * * * * + +The author has a strange power of looking into the workings of her own +mind and heart, and of setting down what she finds there with freedom, +humor and justice. The result is "something new under the sun"--a book +with the tang of originality. Nothing could be more refreshing than this +story of a girl who turned a cad into a man and a man into a hero. + +Bizarre, fantastic, intensely individual, bright and interesting, with +characters that have a trick of saying and doing unexpected things. + + _Washington Times_ + +A remarkable book, sustained in power and interest, strong in its +characterization and picturesque in its treatment of life. It is human, +palpitating with reality, tensely alive. + + _Harper's Weekly_ + + +Frontispiece by the author + +12mo, cloth, price, $1.50 + + + + +HER INFINITE VARIETY IS THE SPICE +OF LIFE + + * * * * * + +HER +INFINITE VARIETY + + +By BRAND WHITLOCK + + * * * * * + +Not a little of the attractiveness of Her Infinite Variety by Brand +Whitlock lies in its markedly handsome appearance. Howard Chandler +Christy's illustrations are among the best he has drawn, and are, +happily, quite numerous.--_Philadelphia Record._ + +Her Infinite Variety represents Mr. Brand Whitlock, the author, in +holiday mood. It is from first to last a clever little comedy, full of +delicious and unexpected satire, the whole thing handled with a blythe +spirit of irony.--_New York Globe._ + +The qualities which make up a good story are mingled in the most +alluring proportions in Her Infinite Variety, by Brand Whitlock. Its +humor is keen, sparkling and spontaneous.--_Boston Transcript._ + +Her Infinite Variety, by Brand Whitlock, is a delight to the eye, a +well-spring of mental recreation.--_Philadelphia North American._ + + +With 12 full-page illustrations +in photogravure by +Howard Chandler Christy + +12mo. Price $1.50 + + * * * * * + +The Bobbs-Merrill Company, _Indianapolis_ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE BABY*** + + +******* This file should be named 38347.txt or 38347.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/3/4/38347 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/38347.zip b/38347.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a29c90d --- /dev/null +++ b/38347.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, 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. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7901cbe --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #38347 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38347) |
