summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/43199-8.txt
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to '43199-8.txt')
-rw-r--r--43199-8.txt9276
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9276 deletions
diff --git a/43199-8.txt b/43199-8.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index e0f602c..0000000
--- a/43199-8.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,9276 +0,0 @@
-Project Gutenberg's The Last Tenant, by B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon
-
-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 Last Tenant
-
-Author: B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon
-
-Release Date: July 12, 2013 [EBook #43199]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST TENANT ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by
-Google Books (The University of Michigan).
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's Notes:
- 1. Page scans provided by
- Google Books: http://books.google.com/books?id=4dU0AAAAMAAJ
- (The University of Michigan)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-[Frontispiece.]
-
-
-
-
-
-
- THE LAST TENANT.
-
-
-
-
- BY
-
- B. L. FARJEON,
-
- _Author of "A Fair Jewess," Etc_.
-
-
-
-
- * * * *
-
-
-
-
- NEW YORK:
- THE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY
-
-
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1893, by
- CASSEL PUBLISHING COMPANY.
-
-
-
- _All rights reserved_.
-
-
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS.
-
- * * * *
-
-CHAPTER
-
- I. My Wife Makes Up her Mind to Move,
-
- II. House-Hunting à la Mode,
-
- III. An Old Friend Unexpectedly Presents Himself
-
- IV. Bob Millet Gives us Some Curious Information about the
- House in Lamb's Terrace,
-
- V. We Look Over the House in Lamb's Terrace and Receive a
- Shock,
-
- VI. The Answer to the Bell,
-
- VII. I Make Some Singular Experiments,
-
- VIII. I Take Bob into my Confidence,
-
- IX. I Pay Bob Millet a Visit,
-
- X. Ronald Elsdale Gives Opinions,
-
- XI. Bob Relates to me Some Particulars of Ronald Elsdale's
- Delusions,
-
- XII. A House on Fire,
-
- XIII. I Take the Haunted House,
-
- XIV. A Meager Report from the Inquiry Agent,
-
- XV. What the Inquest Revealed,
-
- XVI. In 79 Lamb's Terrace,
-
- XVII. Barbara,
-
- XVIII. Molly,
-
- XIX. Important Information,
-
- XX. Dr. Cooper,
-
- XXI. Barbara Gives us Some Valuable Information,
-
- XXII. Mr. Nisbet Visits Lamb's Terrace,
-
- XXIII. On the Track,
-
- XXIV. We Arrive in Paris,
-
- XXV. We Come to a Halt,
-
- XXVI. A Good Night's Work,
-
- XXVII. A Word with Mme. Bernstein,
-
- XXVIII. Mme. Bernstein Reveals,
-
- XXIX. Dr. Cooper is Impressed,
-
- XXX. Mr. Nisbet Takes a Decided Step,
-
-
-
-
-
-
- THE LAST TENANT
-
- * * * *
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
- MY WIFE MAKES UP HER MIND TO MOVE.
-
-
-From a peculiar restlessness in my wife's movements, I gathered that
-she was considering some scheme which threatened to disturb the
-peaceful surroundings of my life. Upon two or three occasions lately
-she had reproached me for not being sufficiently lofty in my social
-views, and although the tone in which she addressed me was free from
-acerbity, her words conveyed the impression that in some dark way I
-was inflicting an injury upon her. Familiar with her moods, and
-understanding the best way in which to treat them, I made no inquiries
-as to the precise nature of this injury, but waited for her to
-disclose it--which I was aware she would not do until she was quite
-prepared.
-
-I am not, in any sense of the term, an ambitious man, being happily
-blessed with a peaceful and contented mind which renders me unwilling
-to make any departure from my usual habits. As regards old-fashioned
-ways I am somewhat of a conservative; I do not care for new things and
-new sensations, and I am not forever looking up at persons above me,
-and sighing for their possessions and enjoyments. Indeed, I am
-convinced that the happiest lot is that of the mortal who is neither
-too high nor too low, and who is in possession of a competence which
-will serve for modest pleasures, without exciting the envy of friends
-and acquaintances. Such a competence was mine; such pleasures were
-mine. Secure from storms and unnecessary worries--by which I mean
-worries self-inflicted by fidgety persons, or persons discontented
-with their lot--I should have been quite satisfied to remain all my
-life in our cozy ten-roomed house, which we had inhabited for twenty
-years, and in which we had been as comfortable as reasonable beings
-can expect to be in life. Not so my wife, the best of creatures in her
-way, but lately (as I subsequently discovered) tormented with jealousy
-of certain old friends who, favored by fortune, had moved a step or
-two up the social ladder. It was natural, when these friends visited
-us, that they should dilate with pride upon their social rise, and
-should rather loftily, and with an air of superiority, seize the
-opportunity of describing the elegances of their new houses and
-furniture. Their fine talk amused me, and I listened to it
-undisturbed; but it rendered my wife restless and uneasy, and the
-upshot of it was that one morning, during breakfast, she said:
-
-"You have nothing particular to do to-day, my dear?"
-
-"No, nothing particular," I replied.
-
-"Then you won't mind coming with me to see some new houses."
-
-I gasped. The murder was out.
-
-"Some new houses!" I cried.
-
-"You can't expect me to go alone," she said calmly. "It would hardly
-be safe--to say nothing of its impropriety--for a lady, unaccompanied,
-to wander through a number of empty houses with the street door shut.
-We read of such dreadful things in the papers."
-
-"Quite true; they are enough to make one's hair stand on end. It would
-not be prudent. But what necessity is there for you to go into a
-number of empty houses?"
-
-"How stupid you are!" she exclaimed. "You know we must move; you know
-that it is impossible for us to remain in this house any longer."
-
-"Why not?"
-
-"Such a question! And the house in the state it is!"
-
-"A very comfortable state, Maria. There is nothing whatever the matter
-with it."
-
-"There is everything the matter with it."
-
-"Oh, if you say so----"
-
-"I do say so."
-
-A man who has been long married learns from experience, and profits by
-what he learns, if he has any sense in him. I am a fairly sensible
-man, and experience has taught me some useful lessons. Therefore I
-went on with my breakfast in silence, knowing that my wife would soon
-speak again.
-
-"The house is full of inconveniences," she said.
-
-"You have been a long time finding them out, Maria."
-
-"I found them out years ago, but I have borne with them for your
-sake."
-
-I laughed slyly, took the top off an egg, and requested her to name
-the inconveniences of which she complained.
-
-She commenced. "We want a spare room."
-
-"We have one," I said, "and it is never used."
-
-"It isn't fit to use."
-
-"Oh! I had an idea that there was no demand for it."
-
-"If it was a comfortable room there would be, Edward, I wish you would
-recognize that things cannot always remain as they are."
-
-"More's the pity."
-
-"Nonsense. You talk as if we were shellfish."
-
-"It did not occur to me. Proceed with your wants, Maria."
-
-"_Our_ wants, my dear."
-
-"Well, _our_ wants."
-
-"You want a nice, cozy study, where you can sit and smoke."
-
-"I want nothing of the kind. I can sit and smoke anywhere. Don't
-forget that I am fifty years of age, and that my habits are fixed."
-
-"My dear, it is never too late to learn."
-
-"Keep to the point," I said.
-
-"As if I am not keeping to it! I have no morning room."
-
-"So you are to sit in your morning room, and I am to sit in my study,
-instead of sitting and chatting together, as we have always done. A
-cheerful prospect! What next?"
-
-"We have very good servants," she said pensively.
-
-"Has that anything to do with the inconveniences you speak of?"
-
-"I shouldn't like to lose the girls, especially cook. They sleep in
-the attic, you know, and the roof is shockingly out of repair."
-
-"It is the chronic condition of roofs. Go where you will, you hear the
-same story. Have the girls complained?"
-
-"No, but I can see what is coming."
-
-"Ah!"
-
-"The kitchen is not what it should be; the range causes us the
-greatest anxiety. The next dinner party we give we must have the
-dinner cooked out. Think what a trouble it will be, and how awkward it
-will look. Everything brought to the table lukewarm, if not quite
-cold."
-
-"The thought is heartrending."
-
-"And you so particular as you are. I am not blaming you for these
-things, my dear."
-
-"You are very considerate. Is your catalogue of ills finished?"
-
-"By no means. Look at the wine cellar--it positively reeks. As for the
-store cupboard, not a thing can I keep in it for the damp. Then
-there's the bath. Every time I turn the hot water tap I am frightened
-out of my life. It splutters, and chokes, and gurgles--we shall have
-an explosion one day. Then there's----"
-
-"No more!" I cried, in a tragic tone. "Give me two minutes to compose
-myself. My nerves are shattered."
-
-I finished my eggs and toast, I emptied my breakfast cup, I shifted my
-chair.
-
-"You wish to move," I then said.
-
-"Do you not see the impossibility of our remaining where we are?" was
-her reply.
-
-"Frankly, I do not, but we will not argue; I bend my head to the
-storm."
-
-"Edward, Edward!" she expostulated. "Must not a woman have a mind?
-Must it always be the man?"
-
-"I meant nothing ill-natured, Maria. Have you any particular house in
-view?"
-
-"Several, and I have made out a list of them. I have been to the house
-agents and have got the keys. I did not wish you to have the bother of
-it, so I took it all on myself. And here are the orders to view the
-houses where there are care-takers. Of course we don't want the keys
-of those houses; all we have to do is to ring."
-
-"How many empty houses are there on your list?"
-
-"Twenty-three."
-
-I repressed a shudder. "And you have the keys of----"
-
-"Eleven. I can get plenty more. We must be careful they don't get
-mixed up. Perhaps you had better keep them."
-
-"Not for worlds. Do you propose to go over the whole twenty-three
-to-day?"
-
-"Oh, no, my dear, but we will continue till we are tired. With what I
-have and what I am promised I dare say it will be a long job before we
-are suited. Days and days."
-
-"Perhaps weeks and weeks," I suggested faintly.
-
-"Perhaps. Do you remember how we hunted and hunted till we found this
-house?"
-
-"Can I ever forget it? I grew so sick of tramping about that I thought
-seriously of buying a traveling caravan, and living in it. Well,
-Maria, I confess I don't like the prospect, but as your mind is made
-up I will put a good face on it."
-
-"I was sure you would, my dear. You are the best man in the world."
-And she gave me a hearty kiss.
-
-"All right, my dear. When do we start?"
-
-"I shall be ready in half an hour."
-
-In less than that time we were off, I resigned to my fate, and my wife
-as brisk as a young maid about to enter into housekeeping for the
-first time. I could not but admire her courage. Her bag was stuffed
-with keys, and in her hand she carried a book in which were set down
-the particulars of the houses we were to look over.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
- HOUSE-HUNTING À LA MODE.
-
-
-It was a satisfaction to me that my wife did not entertain the idea of
-deserting the northwestern part of London, in which I have lived from
-my boyhood, and which I regard as the pleasantest district in our
-modern Babylon. In no other part of London can you see in such
-perfection the tender green of spring, and enjoy air so pure and
-bracing, and there are summers when my wife agrees with me that it is
-a mistake to give up these advantages for the doubtful enjoyment and
-the distinct discomforts of a few weeks in the country. So, with my
-mind somewhat relieved, I started upon the expedition which was to
-lead me to the deserted house in Lamb's Terrace, and thence to the
-strange and thrilling incidents I am about to narrate. And I may
-premise here that I do not intend to attempt any explanation of them;
-I shall simply describe them as they occurred, and I shall leave the
-solution to students more deeply versed than myself in the mysteries
-of the visible and invisible life by which we are surrounded. I must,
-however, make one observation. There is in my mind no doubt that I was
-the chosen instrument in bringing to light the particulars of a foul
-and monstrous crime, which might otherwise have remained unrevealed
-till the Day of Judgment, when all things shall be made clear. Why I
-was thus inscrutably chosen, and was haunted by the Skeleton Cat until
-the moment arrived when I was to lay my hand upon the shoulder of the
-criminal and say, "Thou art the man!" is to me the most awful and
-inexplicable mystery in my life.
-
-In our search for a new house the story of one day is (with the single
-exception to which I have incidentally referred) the story of all the
-days so employed. We set out every morning, my wife fresh and
-cheerful, and I trotting patiently by her side; we returned home every
-evening worn out, disheartened, bedraggled, and generally demoralized.
-My condition was, of course, worse than that of my wife, whom a
-night's rest happily restored to strength and hope. I used to look at
-her across the breakfast table in wonder and admiration, for truly her
-vigor and powers of recuperation were surprising.
-
-"Are you quite well this morning?" I would ask.
-
-"Quite well," she would reply, smiling amiably at me. "I had a lovely
-night."
-
-Wonderful woman! A lovely night! While I was tossing about feverishly,
-going up and down innumerable flights of stairs with thousands upon
-thousands of steps, opening thousands upon thousands of doors, and
-pacing thousands upon thousands of rooms, measuring their length,
-breadth, and height with a demon three-foot rule which mocked my most
-earnest and conscientious efforts to take correct measurements! The
-impression these expeditions produced upon me was that, of all the
-trials to which human beings are subject, house-hunting is
-incomparably the most exasperating and afflicting. Were I a judge with
-the power to legislate, I would make it a punishment for criminal
-offenses: "Prisoner at the bar, a jury of your countrymen have very
-properly found you guilty of the crime for which you have been tried,
-and it is my duty now to pass sentence upon you. I have no wish to
-aggravate your sufferings in the painful position in which you have
-placed yourself, but for the protection of society the sentence must
-be one of extreme severity. You will be condemned to go house-hunting,
-and never getting suited, from eight o'clock in the morning until
-eight o'clock at night, for a term of three years, and I trust that
-the punishment inflicted upon you will deter you from crime for the
-rest of your natural life." I should almost be tempted to add, "And
-the Lord have mercy upon your soul!"
-
-I could not have wished for a better leader than my wife, who
-continued to take charge of the keys and to keep a record of the
-premises we had looked over and were still to look over; and in the
-little book in which this record is made were set down in admirable
-English--occasionally, perhaps, somewhat too forcible--the reasons why
-there was not a single house to let which answered her requirements.
-Many of the houses had been tenantless for years, and reminded me in a
-depressingly odd way of unfortunate men who had fallen too soon into
-"the sere and yellow," and were sinking slowly and surely into damp
-and weedy graves. The discolored ceilings, the moldy walls, the moist
-basements, the woe-begone back yards, and the equally dismal gardens,
-the twisted taps, the rusty locks and keys, the dark closets which the
-agents had the effrontery to call bedrooms, supplied ample evidence
-that their fate was deserved. There were some in a better condition,
-having been newly patched and painted; but even to these more likely
-tenements there was always, I was ever thankful to hear, an objection,
-from one cause or another, raised by my wife. In one the dining room
-was too small; in another it was too large; in another the bath was on
-an unsuitable floor--down in the basement or up on the roof; in
-another the range was old-fashioned; in another there was no getting
-into the garden unless you passed through the kitchen or flung
-yourself out of the drawing-room window; in another there were no
-cupboards, and so on, and so on, without end. Again and again did I
-indulge in the hope that she was thoroughly exhausted and would give
-up the hunt, and again and again did the wonderful woman, a few hours
-afterward, impart to me the disheartening news--smiling cheerfully
-as she spoke--that she had been to a fresh house agent and was
-provided with another batch of keys and "orders to view." After every
-knock-down blow she "came up smiling," as the sporting reporters say.
-Meekly I continued to accompany her, knowing that the least resistance
-on my part would only strengthen her determination to prolong the
-battle. At the end of a more than usually weary day she observed:
-
-"My dear, if we were rich we would build."
-
-"We would," I said, and, with a cunning of which I felt secretly
-proud, I encouraged her to describe the house she would like to
-possess. I am a bit of a draughtsman, and from the descriptions she
-gave me of the house that would complete her happiness I drew out the
-plans of an Ideal Residence which I was convinced could not be found
-anywhere on the face of the earth. This, however, was not my wife's
-opinion.
-
-"It is the exact thing, Edward," she said, and she took my plans to
-the agents, who said they were very nice, and that they had on their
-books just the place she was looking for--with one trifling exception
-scarcely worth mentioning. But this trifling exception proved ever to
-be of alarming proportions, was often hydra-headed, and was always
-insurmountable. Then would she glow with indignation at the duplicity
-of the agents, and would call them names which, had they been publicly
-uttered, would have laid us open to a great number of actions for
-libel and slander. Thus a month passed by, and, except for prostration
-of spirits, we were precisely where we had been when we commenced. The
-Ideal Residence was still a castle in Spain.
-
-One evening, when we were so tired out that we could hardly crawl
-along, my indomitable wife, after slamming the last street door behind
-her, informed me that she intended to call upon another house agent
-whom she had not yet patronized.
-
-"That will be the ninth, I think," I said, in a mild tone.
-
-"Yes, the ninth," she said. "They are a dreadful lot. You can't place
-the slightest dependence upon them."
-
-Gascoigne was the name of the agent we now visited, and he entertained
-us in the old familiar way. As a matter of course, he had the very
-house to suit us; in fact, he had a dozen, and he went through them
-_seriatim_. But my wife, who during the past month had learned
-something, managed, by dint of skillful questioning, to lay her hand
-on the one weak spot which presented itself in all.
-
-"I am afraid they will not do," she said, "but we will look at them
-all the same."
-
-I sighed; I was in for it once more. A dozen fresh keys, a dozen fresh
-orders to view--in a word, a wasted, weary week. Mr. Gascoigne drummed
-with his fingers on his office table, and, after a pause, said:
-
-"I have left the best one to the last."
-
-"Indeed!" said my wife, brightening up.
-
-"The house that cannot fail," said he; "a chance seldom met
-with--perhaps once in a lifetime. I shall not have it long on my
-books; it will be snapped up in no time. It possesses singular
-advantages."
-
-"Where is it?" asked my wife eagerly.
-
-"In Lamb's Terrace, No. 79. Detached and charmingly situated. Ten
-bedrooms, three reception rooms, two bath rooms, hot and cold water to
-top floor, commodious kitchen and domestic offices, conservatory,
-stabling, coach house, coachman's rooms over, two stalls and loose
-box, large garden well stocked with fruit trees, and two greenhouses."
-
-My wife's eyes sparkled. I also was somewhat carried away, but I soon
-cooled down. Such an establishment would be far beyond my means.
-
-"To be let on lease?" I inquired.
-
-"To be let on lease," Mr. Gascoigne replied.
-
-"The rent would be too high," I observed.
-
-"I don't think so. Ninety pounds a year."
-
-"What?" I cried.
-
-"Ninety pounds a year," he repeated.
-
-I looked at my wife; her face fairly beamed. She whispered to me, "A
-prize! Why did we not come here before? It would have saved us a world
-of trouble."
-
-For my part, I could not understand it. Ninety pounds a year! It was a
-ridiculous rent for such a mansion.
-
-I turned to the agent. "Is there a care-taker in the house?"
-
-"No," he replied, "it is quite empty."
-
-"Has it been long unlet?"
-
-"Scarcely any time."
-
-"The tenant has only just left it, I suppose?"
-
-"The tenant has not been living in it."
-
-"He has been abroad?"
-
-"I really cannot say. I know nothing of his movements. You see, we are
-not generally acquainted with personal particulars. A gentleman has a
-house which he wishes to let, and he places it in our hands. All that
-we have to do is to ascertain that the particulars with which he
-furnishes us are correct. We let the house, and there is an end of the
-matter so far as we are concerned."
-
-I recognized the common sense of this explanation, and yet there
-appeared to me something exceedingly strange in such a house being to
-let at so low a rent, and which had just lost a tenant who had not
-occupied it.
-
-"Is it in good repair?" I asked.
-
-"Frankly, it is not; but that is to your advantage."
-
-"How do you make that out?"
-
-"Because the landlord is inclined to be unusually liberal in the
-matter. He will allow the incoming tenant a handsome sum in order that
-he may effect the repairs in the manner that suits him best. There is
-a little dilapidation, I believe, in one or two of the rooms, a bit of
-the flooring loose here and there, some plaster has dropped from the
-ceilings, and a few other such trifling details to be seen to; and the
-garden, I think, will want attention."
-
-"The house seems to be completely out of repair?"
-
-"Oh, no, not at all; I am making the worst of it, so that you shall
-not be disappointed. But there is the money provided to set things in
-order."
-
-"Roughly speaking, what sum does the landlord propose to allow?"
-
-"Roughly speaking, a hundred pounds or so."
-
-"About one-third," I remarked, "of what I should judge to be
-necessary."
-
-"Not at all; a great deal can be done with a hundred pounds; and my
-client might feel disposed to increase the amount. You can examine the
-house and see if it suits you, which I feel certain it will."
-
-Here my wife broke in. She had listened impatiently to my questions,
-and had nodded her head in approval of every answer given by the agent
-to the objections I had raised.
-
-"I am sure it will suit us," she said. "The next best thing to
-building a house for one's self is to have a sufficient sum of money
-allowed to spend on one already built; to repair it, and paint and
-paper it after our own taste."
-
-"I agree with you, madam," said the agent, "and you will find the
-landlord not at all a hard man to deal with. He makes only one
-stipulation--that whoever takes the house shall live in it."
-
-"Why, of course we should live in it," said my wife. "What on earth
-should we take it for if we didn't?"
-
-"Quite so," said the agent.
-
-"I should like to ask two more questions," I said. "Are the drains in
-good order?"
-
-"The drains," replied the agent, "are perfection."
-
-"And is it damp?"
-
-"It is as dry," replied the agent, "as a bone."
-
-Some further conversation ensued, in which, however, I took no part,
-leaving the management to my wife, who had evidently set her heart
-upon moving to No. 79 Lamb's Terrace. The agent handed her the keys
-with a bow and a smile, and we left his office.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
- AN OLD FRIEND UNEXPECTEDLY PRESENTS
- HIMSELF.
-
-
-During the interview my attention had been attracted several times to
-a peculiar incident. At the extreme end of Mr. Gascoigne's office,
-close against the wall, was a high desk, with an old-fashioned railing
-around it, the back of the desk being toward me. When we entered the
-office no person was visible behind the desk, and no sounds of it
-being occupied reached my ears; but, happening once to look
-undesignedly in that direction, I saw a gray head raised above the
-railings, the owner of which was regarding me, I thought, with a
-certain eagerness and curiosity. The moment I looked at the head,
-which I inferred was attached to the body of a clerk in the service of
-Mr. Gascoigne, it disappeared, and I paid no attention to it. But
-presently, turning again, I saw it bob up and as quickly bob down; and
-as this was repeated five or six times during the interview, it made
-me, in turn, curious to learn the reason of the proceedings. Finally,
-upon my leaving the office, the head bobbed up and remained above the
-desk, seemingly following my departure with increasing eagerness.
-
-"My dear," said my wife, as we walked along the street--very slowly,
-because of the weary day we had had--"at last we have found what we
-have been searching for so long."
-
-It did not strike me so, but I did not express my opinion. All I said
-was, "I am tired out, and I am sure you must be."
-
-"I do feel tired, but I'm repaid for it. Yes, this is the very house
-we have been hunting for; just the number of rooms we want, just the
-kind of garden we want, and so many things we thought we couldn't
-afford. Then the stable and coach-house--not that we have much use for
-them, but it looks well to have them, and to speak of them to our
-friends in an off-hand way. Then the fruit trees--what money it will
-save us, gathering the fruit quite fresh as we want it! I have in my
-eye the paper for the drawing and dining rooms; and your study, my
-dear, shall be as cozy as money can make it. I have something to tell
-you--a secret. I have put away--never mind where--a long stocking, and
-in it there is a nice little sum saved up out of housekeeping pennies.
-That money shall be spent in decorating No. 79 Lamb's Terrace."
-
-Thus rattled on this wonderful wife of mine, working herself into such
-a state of rapture at the prospect of obtaining the Ideal Residence I
-had drawn out for her, and which she believed she had obtained, that I
-could not help admiring more and more her sanguine temperament and her
-indomitable resolution. Her pluck, her endurance, her persistence,
-were beyond praise; such women are cut out for pioneers in difficult
-undertakings; they never give in, they never know when they are
-beaten. In the midst of her glowing utterances I heard the sound of
-rapid steps behind us, and, turning, saw the elderly man, whose head,
-bobbing up and down in Mr. Gascoigne's office, had so engaged my
-attention. He had been running after us very quickly, and his breath
-was almost gone.
-
-"I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon," he said, speaking with
-difficulty, "but--excuse me, I must get my breath."
-
-We waited till he had recovered, my wife with the expectation that he
-was charged with a message from Mr. Gascoigne, I with no such
-expectation. I felt that he had come after us on a purely personal
-matter, and as I gazed at him I had an odd impression that, at some
-period of my life, I had been familiar with a face like his. I could
-not, however, bring to my mind any person resembling him.
-
-"The agent has given us the keys of the wrong house," whispered my
-wife. "I hope it is no worse than that; I hope he hasn't made a
-mistake in the rent."
-
-She was in great fear lest the splendid chance was gone and the house
-in Lamb's Terrace was lost to us.
-
-"I am all right now," said the stranger, "and I must beg you to excuse
-me if I am mistaken. I think not, for I seem to recognize your
-features; and yet it is so long ago--so long ago!"
-
-The impression that I had known him in earlier years grew stronger.
-
-"I heard your name," he continued, "while I was working at my desk.
-When you handed your card to Mr. Gascoigne he spoke it aloud, and I
-recognized it as that of an old school friend. It so stirred me that I
-fear you must have thought me rude for staring at you as I did. My
-name is Millet, Bob Millet--don't you remember?"
-
-Good Heavens! My old schoolmate, Bob Millet, dear old Bob, almost my
-brother, whom I had not seen for nearly forty years, stood before me.
-What reminiscences did the sight of him inspire! He and I were chums
-in those early days, stood up for each other, defended each other,
-played truant together, took long walks, went into the country
-together during holiday time--did everything, in short, that could
-bind schoolboys in firm links of comradeship. Once, when my parents
-took me to the seaside, they invited Bob at my urgent request to spend
-a week with us, and he spent two, three--all the time, indeed, that we
-were away from home. There at the seaside he taught me to swim, and we
-had days of enjoyment so vivid that the memory of them came back to me
-fresh and bright even after this lapse of years. How changed he was!
-He was a plump, rosy-cheeked boy, and he had grown into a thin, spare,
-elderly man, with all the plumpness and all the rosiness squeezed
-clean out of him. It was a bit of a shock. He was younger than I, and
-he looked twenty years older; his clothes were shabby, his face worn
-and lined with care, as though life's battle had been too much for
-him; while here was I, a fairly prosperous man, full of vigor and
-capacity for enjoyment, and blessed with means for the indulgence of
-pleasures which it was evident he could not afford. There was on my
-part more of sadness than of joy in this meeting. I held out my hand
-to him, and we greeted each other cordially.
-
-"My dear," I said to my wife, "this is my old school chum, Mr.
-Millet."
-
-"Bob Millet, please," he said reproachfully; "don't drop me because I
-am shabby."
-
-"I am not the sort of man to do that, Bob," I rejoined. "You have had
-a tussle with fortune, old friend, and got the worst of it?"
-
-"Considerably," he replied, with a little laugh in which there was no
-bitterness; it reminded me that when he was at school he always took a
-cheerful view of any misfortune that happened to him; "but a meeting
-like this makes up for a lot. What does the old song say? 'Bad luck
-can't be prevented.' Well, I _am_ glad to see you! I ran after you
-with a double purpose--first to shake hands with you, then to talk to
-you about that house you are looking after."
-
-"All in good time. Have you done work for the day?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Come home with us and have a tea-dinner, unless," I added, "there is
-someone else expecting you."
-
-"No one is expecting me," he said rather mournfully. "I am all alone."
-
-"Not married?"
-
-"I was, but I lost her."
-
-I pressed his hand sympathetically.
-
-"You can come along with us, then," said my good wife; "it will be
-better than passing the evening with yourself for company; and I am
-burning to hear what you have to tell us about the house in Lamb's
-Terrace. I am fairly enchanted with it, even before I see it. There is
-our 'bus; I hope there is room for us."
-
-There was room, and we got in, and alighted within thirty yards of our
-house--our dear old house, which my wife was bent upon giving up.
-
-I took Bob to my dressing room, and we had a wash and a brush up.
-
-"Any children?" he asked.
-
-"No," I replied; "it caused us sorrow at first, but we get resigned to
-things."
-
-"Yes, indeed."
-
-Downstairs my wife was waiting for us, and there was our tea-dinner
-already prepared, with one or two additional small luxuries in honor
-of our visitor.
-
-"Sit down, Bob," I said, "and make yourself at home. To you this is
-Liberty Hall; we haven't a bit of pride in us, although my dear wife
-here has an ambition for a larger house; that is why we are going to
-move."
-
-"We can afford to move, Mr. Millet," said my wife with dignity.
-
-"I am very glad to hear it," said Bob; "it is always pleasant to hear
-of a friend's good fortune."
-
-My wife smiled kindly, and we all made a good meal; and then she
-bustled away to see to some domestic matters, while the maid cleared
-the table. Before she left the room she said to Bob:
-
-"Mr. Millet, not a word about that delightful house until I join you."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
- BOB MILLET GIVES US SOME CURIOUS
- INFORMATION ABOUT THE HOUSE
- IN LAMB'S TERRACE.
-
-
-"Now, Bob," said I, "here's a clean pipe and some bird's eye. Do you
-remember our first cigar in your little bedroom in your father's
-house? How we suffered, and vowed never to smoke again! We have time
-for a pipe and a chat before my wife comes in. She has many virtues,
-Bob, and a special one for which she deserves a medal--she does not
-object to my smoking in any room in the house. Heaven knows what rules
-she will lay down, and what changes for the worse there will be when
-we move! I am not going to anticipate evils, however. Without
-pretending that I am a philosopher, I take things as they come, and
-try to make the best of them; it is the pleasantest way. Tell me what
-you have been doing all these years."
-
-He told me all about himself--of his leaving school with fair
-expectations; of his entering into his father's business; of his
-marrying for love, and, after three years of happy married life, of
-the death of his wife, and the ruin of his prospects; of his
-subsequent struggles and disappointments; and of his sinking lower and
-lower until he found himself fixed upon that depressing platform which
-is crowded with poor clerks struggling with all their might and main
-for bread and butter. Except when he spoke of his wife there was no
-sadness in his voice; and I saw that the cheerful temperament which
-had distinguished him when we were at school together had not deserted
-him.
-
-"It has been a tussle," he said, "but I have managed to rub along, and
-it might have been worse than it is. You don't mind my calling you
-Ned, do you?"
-
-"If I did," I replied, "I should have good reason to be ashamed of
-myself. It was Ned and Bob when we were boys; it is Ned and Bob now
-that we are elderly men. A few pounds more in my purse than in yours
-can make no difference; and as far as that goes, I can spare a little
-check if you need it."
-
-"No, Ned," he responded quickly, "that is the last thing in the world
-I hope I shall have to do. Though I don't sit down to a banquet every
-day for dinner, I have never borrowed, and I never will if I can
-possibly help it. Don't judge me by my sad looks--I have a
-disagreeable impression that I am not a cheerful fellow to
-contemplate; but if the truth were known there are much harder lots
-than mine. I have a comical trick of twisting things to my own
-advantage, and of rather pitying men who could sell me up over and
-over again. Ned, as there is no station in life, however high, without
-its miseries, so there is no station in life, however low, without its
-compensations."
-
-"You're the philosopher, Bob," quoth I.
-
-"I don't know about that. I have grown into the belief that the poor
-have as much enjoyment as the rich, and when I take a shilling's worth
-in the gallery of a theater, I am positive that I don't get less
-pleasure out of it than the people who sit in the stalls do out of
-their half-guineas. If I am a philosopher that is the use I make of my
-philosophy. Then, Ned, I have the past to think of; for three years
-there was no happier man than I, and my sad memories are sweetened
-with gratitude. And life is short after all; time flies; tomorrow we
-shall all be on a level, rich and poor alike."
-
-Thus spoke my old schoolfellow, Bob Millet, in his shabby coat, and
-the regard I used to have for him grew stronger every minute that
-passed.
-
-When my wife came in, bustling and cheerful as usual, she nodded
-brightly at us, sat down with a piece of needlework in her hand--she
-is never idle, this wife of mine--and said:
-
-"Now, Mr. Millet, let us hear about the house in Lamb's Terrace."
-
-"I will tell you all I know. Have you the keys, Ned?"
-
-"My wife has," I replied.
-
-She opened her bag and took them out, remarking, as she wiped her
-fingers, that they were very dusty.
-
-"As you see," observed Bob, "they are covered with rust."
-
-"They could have been used very little lately," I said.
-
-"Hardly at all," said Bob; "and this is one of the singular features
-in connection with the house with which you should be made acquainted.
-Did not the information Mr. Gascoigne gave you of the last tenant
-strike you as rather extraordinary?" He turned to my wife for an
-answer, but she did not reply.
-
-"It struck me as very extraordinary," I said. "I could not understand
-it at all, nor can I now understand why a house, with so many rooms,
-with stabling, a large garden, and so many other advantages, should be
-offered at so low a rent."
-
-Bob looked at me, looked at my wife, hesitated, coughed, cleared his
-throat, and spoke.
-
-"As a matter of fact, the house has been empty for four or five
-years."
-
-"Really a matter of fact?" inquired my wife. "Within your own
-knowledge?"
-
-"Not exactly that; I can speak only of what I have gathered."
-
-"So that your matter of fact," observed my wife shrewdly, "is merely
-hearsay."
-
-"I must admit as much, I am afraid," he said a little awkwardly.
-
-"Why should you be afraid to admit it?"
-
-I detected in these questions one of my wife's favorite maneuvers.
-When she met with opposition to a project which she had resolved to
-carry out, she was in the habit of seizing upon any chance words which
-she could construe in such a way as to confuse and confound the enemy.
-Often had she driven me so hard that I have been compelled to beat a
-retreat in despair, and to give up arguing with her.
-
-"Upon my word I don't know why," said Bob. "It was only a form of
-speech. I seem to be getting into a tangle."
-
-"I will assist you to get out of it," said my wife, with playful
-severity. "Go on, Mr. Millet."
-
-"It was originally taken on lease," continued Bob, "and the term
-having expired, the tenant--I suppose we must call him so--wished to
-renew. The landlord says, 'I will renew on one condition, that you
-live in the house.' The tenant objects. 'What does it matter,' he
-says, 'whether I live in the house or not, so long as the rent is
-paid?' The landlord replies that it matters a great deal, that a house
-cannot be kept in a satisfactory condition unless it is occupied, and
-that he does not like to see his property fall into decay, as this
-house has been allowed to do."
-
-"Did you hear these words pass, Mr. Millet?" asked my wife.
-
-"No; I am only throwing into shape what I have gathered."
-
-Here we were interrupted by a knock at the door, and my wife was
-called from the room to see a tradesman whom she had sent for to put
-some locks in order. As she left us she gave Bob rather a queer look.
-I took advantage of her absence by asking Bob why he hesitated when he
-began to speak about the house.
-
-"Well," he answered, "this is the first time I have had the pleasure
-of seeing your wife, and I don't know if she is a nervous woman."
-
-"She is not easily frightened," I said, "but what has that to do with
-it?"
-
-"Everything. I have heard that the house is haunted."
-
-I clapped my hand on the table. "And that is the reason of the low
-rent?"
-
-"It looks like it, doesn't it?"
-
-"And that is why the last tenant did not live in it?"
-
-"Ah," said Bob, "now you strike another key. There is a mystery here
-which I cannot fathom. Having a house on lease and being responsible
-for the rent, he is bound to pay till his term has expired. Very
-well--but here's the point, Ned: The lease having run out, and he
-having all these years presumably paid a large sum of money every
-quarter-day for value not received, why should he wish to renew? The
-house is haunted, he will not live in it, he never even opens the door
-to say how do you do to the property which is costing him so dear, and
-now that his responsibility is at an end he wants to take it upon his
-shoulders again, and to be allowed the privilege of continuing to pay
-his rent without receiving any return for it. Men don't usually throw
-their money away without some special reason, and this eccentric
-proceeding on the part of the last tenant makes one rather curious."
-
-"It is certainly very mysterious," I observed. "What was the rent he
-paid for it?"
-
-"I heard Mr. Gascoigne say a hundred and fifty pounds."
-
-"And it is offered to us for ninety. Have you seen the house, Bob?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Mr. Gascoigne has, I suppose."
-
-"I don't believe he has."
-
-"Then how have you learnt all you have told me?"
-
-"In this way. I was at my desk when the landlord--who is himself
-only a leaseholder, having to pay ground rent to a wealthy
-institution--called upon Mr. Gascoigne, and put the house into his
-hands. Mr. Gascoigne, when he wrote down the particulars, expressed,
-as you did, surprise at the low rent, and little by little all the
-particulars came out. There appeared to me to be some feeling between
-the landlord and the last tenant, but nothing transpired as to its
-nature while I was present, and it is my belief that Mr. Gascoigne is
-as much in the dark as I am. There had been trouble in obtaining the
-keys, I understood. A house agent, you know, never refuses business,
-and Mr. Gascoigne put the place on his books, but has not pushed it in
-any way. He did not mention it to you till he had exhausted the list
-of other available houses. It was only this morning that the rent was
-reduced in the books to ninety pounds, in accordance with instructions
-received from the landlord, and it was probably in accordance with
-those instructions that Mr. Gascoigne made a strong effort to
-prepossess you in favor of it. Your wife may be in any moment. Is she
-to know that the house is haunted?"
-
-I rubbed my forehead; I pondered; I laughed aloud.
-
-"Tell her, Bob," I said; and then, at the idea of all her fond hopes
-being once more dashed to the ground, I fairly held my sides, while
-Bob gazed at me in wonder. I did not explain to him the cause of my
-hilarity; I had no time, indeed, for my wife re-entered the room, and
-resumed her seat and her needlework. I composed my features the moment
-I heard her footstep; she would certainly have asked why I was so
-merry, and any explanation I might have ventured to offer would have
-been twisted by her to my shame and confusion, and would, moreover,
-have made her more determined than ever to take the house.
-
-"Where did we leave off, Mr. Millet?" she said, in a suspicious tone.
-"Let me see--I think it was about the house falling into decay."
-
-"Never mind that just now, Maria," I said. "Bob has something of the
-utmost importance to impart to you. Brace your nerves--prepare for a
-shock."
-
-There was a note of triumph in my voice, and she turned her eyes upon
-me, with an idea, I think, that I was going out of my mind.
-
-"Well, Mr. Millet," she said, with a shrewd glance at him, "what is
-this something of the highest importance that you have to impart to
-me?"
-
-"I was reluctant to mention it," said Bob, "before I spoke of it to
-Ned, because I was doubtful how it would affect you. If you should
-happen to hear of it when it was too late to retract you might say
-with very good reason, 'But why did not Mr. Millet tell us before we
-went over the house? Why did he leave us to find it out for ourselves
-after we signed the lease?'"
-
-"Find what out, Mr. Millet?"
-
-"As a matter of fact," said Bob, and quickly withdrew the unfortunate
-phrase, "I mean that I have heard the house has a bad name."
-
-She frowned.
-
-"A bad name!"
-
-"Bad, in a certain way, They say it is haunted."
-
-"Oh," said my wife, smiling, "is that all? They say? Who say?"
-
-"I can't give you names," replied Bob, conspicuously nonplused,
-"because I don't know them. I can only tell you what I have heard."
-
-"I thought as much," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
-"Merely hearsay. You might be more explicit, Mr. Millet. Haunted? By
-what?"
-
-"I don't know."
-
-"When does _It_ appear?"
-
-"I can't say."
-
-"How tantalizing! Don't you think, Edward, that the news Mr. Millet
-has given us makes the house all the more interesting?"
-
-Thus effectually did she sweep away all my fond expectations. She made
-no more of a haunted house than she would have done of a loose handle
-to a door.
-
-"If that is the view you take of it," I said, "perhaps it does. I am
-always ready to please you, Maria, but till this moment I had no idea
-that your taste lay in the direction of haunted houses. At all events,
-you will not be able to say that you were not warned."
-
-"You will not hear me say it. There is a proverb about giving a dog a
-bad name and hanging him at once, and it seems to me to apply to the
-house in Lamb's Terrace. If Mr. Millet could give us something to lay
-hold of I might express myself differently."
-
-"You can't lay hold of a ghost, Maria, unless those gentry have
-undergone a radical change. For my part, I am much obliged to Bob. It
-was out of consideration for you that he did not mention it at first."
-
-"Mr. Millet was very kind, I am sure," she said stiffly; and then,
-addressing him as though she would give him another chance, "Are you
-acquainted with the last tenant?"
-
-"No, I have never seen him."
-
-"What is his name?"
-
-"I do not know."
-
-"Where does he live?"
-
-"I do not know."
-
-"Now, _do_ you think," she said, quizzing him, "that it is quite fair
-to take away the character of an empty house upon such slender
-grounds? It is like hitting a man when he's down, which I have heard
-is not considered manly."
-
-"I assure you," replied Bob gravely, "that what I have said has been
-said with the best intentions."
-
-"No doubt," said my wife composedly, meaning quite the other thing.
-"Edward, our best plan will be to go and look over the house the first
-thing in the morning."
-
-"That settles it, Bob," I said, "for the present, at all events. What
-do you say to coming here tomorrow evening and hearing our report of
-the house?"
-
-He looked at my wife, as if doubtful whether a second visit would be
-agreeable to her; but she nodded pleasantly, and said:
-
-"Yes, come, Mr. Millet; perhaps we shall be able to surprise you."
-
-"Thank you," said Bob, and we talked of old times with rather eager
-readiness, and for the rest of the evening carefully avoided the
-subject which had so nearly brought him to grief. At ten o'clock he
-took his departure, and a few minutes afterward Maria and I retired to
-our bedroom.
-
-"Good-night, dear," she said, in her most amiable tone, as I put out
-the light.
-
-"Good-night, dear," I replied, and disposed myself for sleep.
-
-We are both healthy sleepers, and generally go off like a top, as the
-saying is, a very short time after our heads touch the pillows. But
-this night proved to be an exception, for we must have lain quite a
-quarter of an hour in darkness when my wife began to speak.
-
-"Are you asleep, Edward?"
-
-"No, Maria."
-
-"Do you know," she said drowsily, "I have a funny idea in my head."
-
-"Have you?"
-
-"Yes. It is that you and Mr. Millet laid a little plot for me."
-
-"It isn't a funny idea, Maria; it is a perfectly absurd idea."
-
-"That is what _you_ say, dear; it is never agreeable to be found out.
-I dare say you thought yourselves very clever. It hasn't raised my
-opinion of Mr. Millet. I should have liked to believe him a different
-kind of person."
-
-"Whatever are you driving at, Maria?" I said. "Bob Millet is the
-simplest fellow in the world, and is incapable of laying a plot."
-
-"Oh, there's no telling. You were old playmates, and he is anxious to
-please you; he will find out by and by, perhaps, that I am not quite
-the simpleton he takes me for."
-
-"Poor old Bob!" I thought. "His ill-luck sticks to him."
-
-Aloud I said, "You are a conundrum, Maria; I shall give you up."
-
-"Better give up the plot," she said pleasantly.
-
-"I will, when I know what it is."
-
-"It was this--that you would invent a ridiculous story about the house
-I have set my heart upon taking being haunted, so that I should be
-frightened to go near it. You ought to have known me better, Edward,
-and I must say you did it very clumsily; my consolation is that you
-did not succeed. I am so sorry for you! Good-night, dear; I hope you
-will sleep well."
-
-I did sleep fairly well, though I was kept awake longer than usual by
-my annoyance at the prejudice Maria entertained against my old friend
-Bob.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER V.
-
- WE LOOK OVER THE HOUSE IN LAMB'S TERRACE,
- AND RECEIVE A SHOCK.
-
-We rose earlier than usual the next morning, and my wife bustled about
-in lively expectation of a successful and pleasant day. She made no
-allusion to Bob Millet, and I, well acquainted with her moods, was
-aware that her silence was no indication that she was not thinking of
-him. My meeting with him had recalled agreeable memories, and I was
-sincerely sorry that he had not been successful in life's battle. I
-resolved to assist him if I could, though I could not exactly see a
-way to it, because of his aversion to borrowing money, and because,
-living retired as I was, with no business to attend to, it was out of
-my power to offer him a better situation than the one he occupied in
-Mr. Gascoigne's office. Anxious that my wife should have as high an
-opinion of him as I had myself, I made an effort to reinstate him in
-her good graces.
-
-"I think, Maria," I said, during breakfast, "that you were inclined to
-do Bob an injustice last night. He had no desire whatever to set you
-against the house in Lamb's Terrace, but only to give us some
-information which he considered it his duty not to withhold from us.
-He was perfectly sincere in all he said, and perfectly truthful, and
-you must admit that he did give us some strange news."
-
-"Yes, he did," she replied, "and it remains to be proved whether it is
-true; we should not be too ready to believe all the idle gossip we
-hear."
-
-"Undoubtedly we should not; but if there is anything against the
-place, it is better that we should hear it before we decide upon
-living in it. When I was a boy an aunt of mine took a house, and
-afterward discovered that a murder had been committed in her bedroom.
-She didn't have a moment's peace in her life; she used to wake up in
-the middle of the night, and fancy all sorts of things. I remember her
-spending an evening with us at home, and starting at the least sound;
-her nerves were shattered, and my poor dear mother said she couldn't
-live long. She told us stories of horrid sights she saw in the house,
-and horrid sounds she heard, and my hair rose on my head. I didn't
-sleep a wink myself that night. Now, if she had known all this before
-she took the house, she would have been spared a great deal of
-suffering."
-
-"Did she die soon after?" asked my practical wife.
-
-"No," I replied; and I could not help laughing at my defeat, the moral
-of the story being absolutely destructive of the theory I wished to
-establish; "as a matter of fact, she lived to a good old age."
-
-"I don't quite see the application, Edward," said my wife dryly; and I
-deemed it prudent to change the subject. Maria is not an unreasonable
-or an unjust woman, and I gathered from her manner that she intended
-to hold over her final verdict upon Bob's character until she had
-ascertained what dependence could be placed upon the information he
-had given us.
-
-Upon looking through the local directory, the only reference I could
-find to Lamb's Terrace was the name under the initial L, "Lamb's
-Terrace."
-
-"It is singular," I said. "The number of the house we are going to is
-79, and the presumption is that there are other houses in the terrace,
-with people living in them, yet there is no list of them in this
-directory."
-
-My wife turned over the pages, but could find no further reference to
-the place.
-
-"It _is_ rather singular," she said, and handed me back the book.
-
-A few minutes afterward we were on our way, having been informed by
-Mr. Gascoigne on the previous day that a North Star 'bus would take us
-to the neighborhood in which it was situated.
-
-"How many houses are we going to look over?" I inquired.
-
-"Only one," replied my wife, "and if that doesn't suit us I really
-don't know what we shall do."
-
-With all my heart I wished that it would not suit us. Reluctant as I
-had been, when we first commenced these wearisome journeys, to remove
-from our old home, I felt now, after the experiences I had gone
-through, that it would be a positive misfortune.
-
-Lamb's Terrace was not easy to find. The conductor of the North Star
-'bus knew nothing of it, and said he had best take us as far as his
-conveyance went, and set us down. This was done, no other course
-suggesting itself to us; he took us as far as he went, and then cast
-us adrift upon the world. We made inquiries of many persons, and the
-replies we received added to our confusion. Women especially set their
-tongues wagging with astonishing recklessness, for they were totally
-ignorant of the subject upon which they were offering an opinion. But
-they gave instructions and advice, which we followed, for the reason
-that we did not know what else we could do. Some said they thought
-Lamb's Terrace must lie in this direction; we went in this direction,
-and did not find it. Others said it must lie in that direction; and we
-went in that direction, with the same result. We requested sundry
-cabmen to drive us to 79 Lamb's Terrace, and they nodded their heads
-cheerfully and asked where Lamb's Terrace was. We could not inform
-them. "Do _you_ know Lamb's Terrace?" they asked their comrades, who
-scratched their heads and passed the question along the rank, and
-eventually said they were blarmed (or something worse) if they did.
-The consequence was that they lost a fare, and that we were cast
-adrift again.
-
-At length, after tramping about for nearly two hours, we found
-ourselves in what I can only describe as a locality which had lost its
-place in civilized society. It was deplorably desolate and forlorn,
-and its dismal aspect suggested the thought that it had been abandoned
-in despair. Fields had been dug up, but not leveled; roads had been
-marked out, but not formed; buildings had been commenced, but not
-proceeded with. Rubbish had been shot there freely. Empty cans,
-battered out of shape, broken bottles, dead branches, musty rags,
-useless pieces of iron and wood, and the worst refuse of the dustbin,
-lay all around. If there had ever been a time in its history--and it
-seemed as if there had been, and not so very long ago--when it
-deserved to be regarded as a region of good intentions, its character
-was gone entirely, and it could now only be regarded as a region of
-desolation. Wandering about this mournful region, my wife suddenly
-exclaimed:
-
-"Why, here it is!"
-
-And there it was. A narrow thoroughfare, not wide enough for two
-vehicles to pass each other, with the words "Lamb's Terrace" faintly
-discernible on the crumbling stones.
-
-"Shall we go on?" I asked.
-
-"Of course we will go on," replied my wife. "What did we come out for?
-And after the trouble we have had to get here!"
-
-We turned at once into the narrow lane. On the right-hand side was a
-gloomy house, untenanted. Beyond this was a long wall, very much out
-of repair. On the opposite side there were no houses at all, but
-another long wall, also very much out of repair. I searched for the
-number of the gloomy untenanted house, but could not see one, and my
-wife suggested that the house we wanted was lower down. We went lower
-down, and passed the gloomy house a distance of fifty or sixty yards,
-between the said walls. So still and deathlike was everything around,
-and so secluded did Lamb's Terrace appear to be that I regarded it as
-being not only lost to society, but almost out of the world.
-
-I glanced at my wife, and saw on her face no traces of disappointment.
-Her spirits were not so easily dashed as mine.
-
-Having traversed these fifty or sixty yards we came to the end of the
-right-hand wall. Adjoining it was a large building, in rueful harmony
-with all the depressing characteristics of the neighborhood. The house
-was approached by a front garden choked up with weeds and rank grass,
-and inclosed by rusty and broken railings; at the end of this garden
-was a flight of stone steps. The gate creaked on its hinges as I
-pushed it open, and a prolonged wheeze issued from the joints; the
-sound was ludicrously and painfully human, and resembled that which
-might have been uttered by a rheumatic old woman in pain. My wife
-pushed past me, and I followed her up the flight of stone steps.
-
-"There is a number on the door," she said, tiptoeing. "Yes, here it
-is, 79, almost rubbed out."
-
-"Numbers 1 to 78," I grimly remarked, "must be somewhere round the
-corner, if there is any round the corner in the neighborhood; they are
-perhaps two or three miles off."
-
-"My dear," said my wife bravely, "don't be prejudiced. Here is the
-house; what we have to do is to see whether it will suit us."
-
-"You would not care to go into it alone," I said.
-
-"I should not," she admitted, with praiseworthy candor; "but that is
-not to the point."
-
-I thought it was; but I did not argue the matter. She had removed from
-the keys as much rust as she could, and had had the foresight to bring
-with her a small bottle of oil, without the aid of which I doubt if we
-should have been able to turn the key in the lock. After a deal of
-trouble this was accomplished, and the mysterious tenement was open to
-us; as the door creaked upon its hinges, the sound that tortured my
-ears was infinitely more lugubrious than that which had issued from
-the gate, and it produced upon me the same impression of human
-resemblance. When we entered the hall I asked my wife whether I should
-close the street door.
-
-"Certainly," she said. "Why not?"
-
-I did not answer her. Have her way she would, and it was useless to
-argue with her. I closed the door, and felt as if I had entered a
-tomb.
-
-The entrance hall was spacious, and shaped like an alcove; there was a
-door on the right, and another on the left; in the center was a wide
-staircase, leading to the rooms above; farther along the passage was a
-masked door, leading to the rooms below.
-
-"Upstairs or downstairs first?" I inquired.
-
-"Downstairs," my wife replied.
-
-The stairs to the basement were very dark, and my wife, prepared for
-all such emergencies, produced a candle and matches. Lighting the
-candle we descended to the stone passage. There was a dreary and
-gloomy kitchen; there was a large scullery, a larder and all necessary
-offices, cobwebbed and musty; also two rooms which could be used as
-living rooms. The glass-paneled doors of both these rooms opened out
-into the back garden, which was in worse condition and more choked up
-with weeds, and rank grass, and monstrous creepers than the ground in
-front of the house; two greenhouses were at the extreme end, and there
-were some trees dotted about, but whether they were fruit trees it was
-impossible to say without a closer examination.
-
-"I don't think," said my wife, "we will go over the garden just now.
-It looks as if it was full of creeping things."
-
-"The rooms we have seen are not much better, Maria."
-
-"They are not, indeed; I never saw a place in such a dreadful state."
-
-I was more than ordinarily depressed. As a rule these expeditions
-invariably had a dispiriting effect upon me, but I had never felt so
-melancholy as I did on this occasion. I made no inquiry into my wife's
-feelings; I considered it best that she should work out the matter for
-herself; the chances of my emerging a victor from the contest in which
-we were engaged would be all the more promising.
-
-We ascended to the hall, and then I observed to my wife that we had
-forgotten to examine the stabling and the wine cellar; we had even
-neglected the coal cellars.
-
-"We won't bother about them to-day," she said, and despite my
-despondency I inwardly rejoiced.
-
-I had also learned to prepare myself for the trials of this
-house-hunting. In my side pocket were two flasks, one containing
-water, the other brandy. I had often grown faint during our
-wanderings, and a sup of brandy now and then had kept up my strength.
-I saw that my wife was lower spirited than usual, and I mixed some
-spirits and water in the tin cup attached to one of the flasks. She
-accepted the refreshment eagerly, and I took a larger draught myself,
-and was much cheered by it.
-
-"It always," said my wife, in a brighter tone, "makes one feel rather
-faint to look over a house which has been empty a long time,
-especially a house which is so far away from--from any others."
-
-"It is almost as if we were in a grave," I observed.
-
-"How _can_ you say such dreadful things!" she retorted. "If I were a
-man I should have more courage."
-
-There were three rooms on the ground floor, each of considerable
-dimensions, and all in shocking dilapidation. The paper had peeled off
-the walls, and was hanging in tattered strips to the ground;
-quantities of plaster had dropped from the ceilings, and here and
-there the bare rafters were exposed; there were holes in the flooring;
-the grates were cracked, the hearths broken up.
-
-"A hundred pounds," I observed, "would not go far toward making this
-house habitable."
-
-"It wouldn't be half enough," said my wife.
-
-Upon quitting the dining room I inquired whether she wished to go any
-further.
-
-"I am going," she said stoutly, "all over the house."
-
-Upstairs we went to the first floor, where we found the rooms in a
-similar condition to those below.
-
-"Disgraceful!" exclaimed my wife. "No wonder the landlord was
-indignant with the last tenant."
-
-In due course we found ourselves on the second floor, and we stood in
-a large room, the windows of which faced the garden in the rear. I had
-opened the door of this room with difficulty, and the moment we
-entered it slammed to, which I ascribed to the wind blowing through
-some broken panes. By this time I perceived plainly that my wife's
-spirits were down to zero, and I was comforted by the reflection that
-looking over a house so wretched, so forlorn, so woe-begone, would,
-after all we had gone through, be the last straw that would break the
-back of her determination to move. We had been in the house about half
-an hour, and nothing but her indomitable spirit had sustained her in
-the trying ordeal.
-
-In the room in which we were now standing there were two bell-pulls;
-one was broken, the other appeared to be in workable condition. It
-was not to prove this, but out of an idle humor as I thought at the
-time--though I was afterward inclined to change my opinion, and to
-ascribe the action to a spiritual impulse--that I stepped to the
-unbroken bell-pull, and gave it a jerk. It is not easy to describe
-what followed. Bells jangled and tolled and clanged as though I had
-set in motion a host in of infernal and discordant tongues of metal,
-and had raised the dead from their graves to take part in the harsh
-concert, for indeed there seemed to be something horribly fiendish, in
-the discord, which was at once hoarse, strident, shrill, and
-sepulchral, and finally resolved itself into a low, muffled wail which
-ran through the house like a funereal peal. With the exception of our
-own voices and footsteps and the slamming of the doors we had opened
-and shut, these were the only sounds we had heard, and they brought a
-chill to our hearts.
-
-"How awful!" whispered my wife.
-
-I nodded, and held up my hand. The last echo of the bells had died
-away, and now there came another sound, so startling and appalling
-that my wife clutched me in terror.
-
-"My God!" she cried; "someone is coming upstairs!"
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
- THE ANSWER TO THE BELL.
-
-
-We stood transfixed with fear.
-
-As I have said, we were on the second floor, and the sound which now
-filled us with apprehension proceeded from the lower part of the
-house. It was very faint, and I judged--though in such circumstances
-but small reliance could be placed upon any judgment I may have
-formed--that if human feet produced it they must have been encased in
-soft shoes or slippers. It has ever since been to me a matter for
-wonder how a sound so fine could have reached our ears from that
-distance. It must have been that our senses, refined instead of dulled
-by the despair which held us spellbound, were preternaturally
-sharpened to catch the note of warning which at any other time would
-have been inaudible.
-
-At the moment, therefore, of my wife's frenzied exclamation I inferred
-that the feet had left the kitchen and were on the stairs leading from
-the basement to the hall. If my surmise was correct there were still
-two flights of stairs to ascend before the full horror of the incident
-would be revealed to us.
-
-I have described the impression produced upon me when we first turned
-into Lamb's Terrace, of being, as it were, cut off from the world.
-There was not an inhabited house near us. We had not seen a human
-being in the thoroughfare, and, as the prospect, from the windows of
-the room in which we now stood, stretched across a bare and desolate
-waste of ground, there was absolutely no hope of any helpful response
-being made to our appeals for assistance.
-
-The possibilities of the peril in which we had placed ourselves
-presented themselves vividly to my agitated mind. The house, having
-been for so many years deserted by its proper tenant, might have
-become the haunt of desperate characters who would shrink from no
-deed, however ruthless, to secure their safety; who might even hail
-with satisfaction the intrusion of respectable persons who had
-unconsciously put themselves in their power. Supposing that these
-evil-doers were concealed in the lower rooms when we entered, they
-could rob and murder us with little fear of discovery. But there was
-also the consoling reflection that they might be in the house with no
-sinister designs, and that their only anxiety now was to escape from a
-building into which they had made an unlawful entrance. This would
-soon be put to the proof. If, when they were on the landing of the
-ground floor, we heard the street door open and shut, the fears which
-oppressed us would be dispelled, and we should be able to breathe
-freely.
-
-I perceived that my wife was animated by a similar hope, and we both
-strained our ears in the endeavor to follow with our terrified senses
-the progress of the sound.
-
-It ceased awhile on the ground floor, and we listened in agonized
-suspense for the click of a latch and the harsh creak of rusty hinges,
-but no such comforting sounds reached our ears, and presently the dead
-silence was broken by the soft pit-pat of footsteps on the stairs
-leading to the first floor. My wife's hold upon me tightened.
-
-"We are lost!" she moaned. "What shall we do--oh, what shall we do?"
-
-I had no weapon about me with the exception of a small penknife, which
-was practically useless in such an encounter as that in which I
-expected soon to be engaged. A peaceful citizen like myself had no
-need to carry weapons. I looked around the room for one. There was not
-an article of furniture in it--not a stick. I would have given the
-world for an ax or a piece of iron with which I could have made some
-kind of defense. We were absolutely helpless and powerless, and it was
-my terror that made me certain that we were threatened by more than
-one enemy. To go from the room and meet the persons who were advancing
-toward us would be an act of madness, and would in all probability but
-hasten our fate. We must remain where we were, and wait for events; no
-reasonable alternative was open to us.
-
-Pat, pat, pat, came the sound to our ears; nearer, nearer, nearer; not
-boldly, as if those from whom it proceeded were engaged upon an open
-and honest mission, but stealthily and covertly, as though they
-desired all knowledge of their movements to be concealed from their
-victims.
-
-The footsteps had now reached the landing of the first floor and,
-after another deathlike pause, commenced to ascend the stairs which
-led directly to us.
-
-"Can't you do something, Edward?" whispered my agonized wife, wringing
-her hands. "Can't you lock the door?"
-
-It is strange that the fact of the door being unlocked had not
-occurred to me before. I rushed to it instantly, and a sigh of intense
-relief escaped me at finding the key in the lock. I turned it like
-lightning, and we were so far safe. Then my wife flew to the window,
-and, throwing it open, began to scream for help--that is to say, she
-would have screamed if she had had the power, but her voice was almost
-frozen in her throat, and the sounds that issued from her were of a
-ravenlike hoarseness, and could have traveled but a few yards; too
-short a distance in our lonely situation to be of any practical value.
-Soon I added my shouts to her hoarse scream. They were sent forth to a
-dead world; to our frantic appeals no answer was made.
-
-Meanwhile, occupied as I was, I could still pay some attention to what
-was passing on the stairs that led to the room. I had indulged in a
-faint hope that our cries would alarm those without, and would induce
-them to forego their murderous attack upon us, but the stealthy pat,
-pat, pat of the footsteps continued, and were now in the middle of the
-staircase; there could be but a few more stairs to ascend. Still
-another hope remained--that when the footsteps reached the second
-landing they would proceed onward to the top of the house. This last
-hope, like those which had preceded it, was not fulfilled. Nearer,
-nearer, nearer they approached, until they were close to the door;
-then there was another pause; no further sounds were heard.
-
-My impression now was that the villains who had a design against
-us--for by this time I entertained no doubt of their diabolical
-purpose, and that we were in the direst peril--were making
-preparations to carry it into effect. Presently they would try the
-handle of the door, and, discovering that it was locked, would burst
-it open and spring upon us.
-
-A long and awful silence ensued, during which the agonizing question
-occupied my mind, what was being done outside the door? The torture of
-the suspense was maddening; the silence was more harrowing than the
-footsteps themselves had been. I was soon to receive an appalling
-answer to the question.
-
-The door--notwithstanding my firm belief that I had securely locked
-it--slowly and noiselessly opened. My heart beat wildly, but I held
-myself ready, so far as lay in my poor power, to meet the attack with
-which we were threatened. And now the door stood wide open, and I saw
-no form of man or woman. But gradually there shaped itself in the air
-the outline of a female shape, a shadow, which as I gazed grew more
-distinct, and yet was never quite vivid to my sight. It was the figure
-of a young girl, poorly dressed, with carpet slippers on her feet. Her
-hair was hanging loose, and the tattered remnants of a cap attached to
-it was an indication that her station in life was--or more properly
-speaking, had been--that of a domestic servant. Her face was white and
-wan, and her large gray eyes were fixed mournfully upon me. There was
-a dead beauty in their depths which seemed to speak of glowing hopes
-of youth prematurely blasted and destroyed, and, though the features
-of the apparition were but airy outlines, I could not fail to perceive
-that in a bygone time they had been comely and prepossessing.
-
-More terrible than any form of living man or woman was this appalling
-spectacle as it stood, silent and still, upon the threshold. Had the
-bell I rang summoned it from the grave? For what purpose had it come?
-What did it require of me? It is probable that I should have mustered
-courage to ask some such questions as these, and indeed I was aware
-that my lips were moving, but no sound issued from them--my voice was
-gone; I could not utter an audible sound.
-
-For several minutes, as it seemed to me, though it could not have been
-so long, did I continue to gaze upon the figure. I had directed a
-brief glance at its feet, but when my eyes traveled up to its face
-they became magnetized, as it were. The spell was broken by a movement
-on the ground, not proceeding from the apparition of the girl. I
-looked down, and there, gliding past the upright spectral figure, I
-saw creeping toward me a skeleton cat.
-
-It was veritably a skeleton, and was to my sight as impalpable as the
-young girl. Through its skin, almost bare of hair, its bones were
-sharply outlined. It was black; its ears were pointed, its eyes were
-yellow, its mouth was open, showing its sharp teeth.
-
-This second apparition added to my horror, which grew deeper and
-deeper as the cat, with gliding motion, approached me. Had its paws
-left upon the ground a bloody imprint I could not have been more
-awestricken. It paused a few inches from me, where it crouched
-motionless so long as I remained so. When I moved it accompanied me,
-and when I stopped it stopped, waiting for a mandate from me to set it
-in motion.
-
-Raising my eyes to the door I discovered to my amazement that the
-figure of the girl had vanished. Nerving myself to the effort, I
-stepped softly into the passage and gazed along and at the staircases
-above and below me, but saw no movement of substance or shadow.
-Returning to the room I was irresistibly impelled by a desire to
-convince myself whether the cat which had accompanied me to and fro
-was as palpable to touch as to sight. Kneeling to put this to the test
-I found myself kneeling on my wife's dress. So engrossed had I been in
-the astounding apparitions that I had paid no attention to her, and
-now I saw that she had fainted. Before devoting myself to her I passed
-my hand over the cat and came in contact with nothing in the shape of
-substance. It was truly a specter, and I beheld it as clearly as I
-beheld the body of my wife lying at my side.
-
-I took my flask from my pocket and bathed my wife's forehead, and
-poured a few drops of brandy and water down her throat, and I was
-presently relieved by seeing her eyes open. She closed them again
-immediately, and said, in a whisper:
-
-"Is it gone?"
-
-Anxious to learn what she had seen--for I inwardly argued that I might
-myself be the victim of a strange delusion--I met her inquiry by
-asking:
-
-"Is what gone, Maria?"
-
-"The girl," she murmured; "that dreadful figure that came into the
-room?"
-
-"Look for yourself," I said.
-
-It was not without apprehension that I made the request, and I
-nervously followed the direction of her eyes.
-
-"It is not in the room," she sighed. "But, Edward, who opened the
-door?"
-
-"The wind blew it open, most likely."
-
-"You locked it, Edward! I heard you turn the key in the lock."
-
-"I thought I did, but I must have been mistaken. Terrified as we were,
-how could we trust the evidence of our senses? And do you suppose
-there's a lock in the house in proper order?"
-
-"It must have been my fancy. Did _you_ see nothing?"
-
-How should I answer her? Revive her terror by telling her that she was
-under no delusion, but that the spectral figure of the young girl had
-really presented itself; or, out of kindness to her, strive to banish
-her fears by a pardonable falsehood?
-
-Before I decided how to act I felt it necessary to ascertain whether
-the cat lying in full view to me was visible to her.
-
-"Maria," I said, "take the evidence of your senses. Look round the
-room--at the door, at the walls, at the ceiling, on the floor--and
-tell me what you see."
-
-With timid eyes she obeyed, and glanced in every direction, not
-omitting the spot upon which the skeleton cat was lying.
-
-"I don't see anything, Edward."
-
-"Does not that prove that the figure you spoke of was a trick of the
-imagination?"
-
-"You actually saw nothing?"
-
-"Nothing."
-
-All this time she had been sitting on the floor, keeping tight hold of
-me. I assisted her to her feet; she was so weak that she could hardly
-stand.
-
-"For Heaven's sake!" she said "do not let us remain in the house
-another minute."
-
-I was as anxious to leave as she was, and had I been alone I should
-have rushed downstairs in blind haste, but I had to attend to my wife.
-The power of rapid motion had deserted her, and when we were about to
-pass through the passage she shrunk back, fearing that the apparition
-of the young girl was lurking there. She experienced the same fear as
-we descended the stairs, and clung to me in terror when we approached
-an open door. I was grateful that the apparition of the cat--which
-followed us faithfully down to the hall--was invisible to her; if it
-had not been she would have lost her senses again, and it would have
-been hard work for me to carry her out, as she is by no means of a
-light weight.
-
-The question which now agitated me was whether the cat would come into
-the streets with us, or would return to the resting place which should
-have been its last. It was soon and plainly answered.
-
-I opened the street door, and stood upon the threshold. The cat stood
-there also. I paused to give it the opportunity of returning, but it
-evinced no desire to do so. I went down the stone steps to the front
-garden; the cat accompanied me. I walked through the front garden out
-of the gate, straight into Lamb's Terrace, and thence across the
-wretched wastes of ground into more cheerful thoroughfares; and the
-skeleton cat was by my side the whole of the time.
-
-The evidence of civilized life by which we were now surrounded
-restored Maria's spirits; she found her tongue.
-
-"Why did you stop on the doorstep, Edward?" she asked.
-
-"I had to lock the street door," I answered.
-
-"We will not take that house, my dear," she said.
-
-"No, we will not take it."
-
-Some unaccustomed note in my voice struck her as strange.
-
-"Is anything the matter with you?" she asked.
-
-"No," I replied, glancing at the cat, "nothing."
-
-"What are you looking at? Why are your eyes wandering so?"
-
-"My dear," I said, with an attempt to speak in a lively tone, and
-failing dismally, "I must be a bit unstrung, that is all."
-
-She accepted my explanation as satisfactory.
-
-"No wonder," she said; "I would not go through such another trial for
-all the money in the world."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VII.
-
- I MAKE SOME SINGULAR EXPERIMENTS.
-
-
-For a little while we walked along in silence, and then I asked my
-wife whether she would ride or walk home.
-
-"I should prefer to walk," she said; "it is early, and the air is
-fresh and reviving. Things look all the brighter now we are out of
-that horrible place. A walk will do us good."
-
-I made no demur, though I was curious to see what the skeleton cat
-would do when we entered an omnibus full of people. It would
-experience a difficulty in finding a place on the floor of the 'bus,
-and there would be no room for it to stretch itself comfortably on the
-seats. I wished to ascertain, also, whether among a number of
-strangers there would be one to whom it would make itself visible. I
-peered into the faces of the passers-by with this thought in my mind,
-but I saw no expression of surprise in them, notwithstanding that the
-cat seemed to touch their legs in brushing past. Again and again did I
-turn my eyes away from the apparition; and again and again, looking
-down at my feet, I beheld it as clearly as if it were an actual living
-example of its species. Once we got into a crowd and I hoped that I
-had lost it. No such luck; it evinced no disposition to leave me.
-
-"Edward," said my wife, "I am sure you are not well. I have tired you
-out with this eternal looking over houses to let. You have been very
-patient with me"--she pressed my arm affectionately--"and I will try
-and make it up to you. I know you never really wished to move."
-
-"I never wished it, Maria."
-
-"And you have gone through all this for my sake. I don't like to give
-up a thing once I have set my mind on it,--you know that of old, my
-dear,--but the experiences of this morning will last me a lifetime; so
-I will give this up."
-
-"The idea of moving?" I asked in a dull voice. "You give it up
-altogether?"
-
-"Yes, altogether. We will remain in our old house."
-
-It is a singular confession to make, but this proclamation of the
-victory I had gained afforded me no satisfaction. I had no wish to
-move; my earnest desire was to remain where we were; but with the
-infernal cat gliding by my side, I could think of nothing but the
-haunted house in Lamb's Terrace which we had just quitted. In that
-house was the spectral figure of the girl who, by spiritual means, had
-opened a door I had locked, and presented herself to me. She was now
-alone. I had deprived her of a companion who, for aught I knew, might
-have been a solace to her. It was as if I had been guilty of a crime;
-as if I had condemned her to solitude. But it was folly to torment
-myself with such reflections. What had I to do with the incidents of
-this eventful day? I was a passive instrument, and was being led by
-unseen hands. More pertinent to ask what was the portent of the
-apparitions, and why the supernatural visitation was inflicted upon
-me, although to these questions I could expect no answer.
-Involuntarily I stooped to assure myself once more that the cat was
-but a shadow.
-
-"What are you stooping for?" inquired my wife.
-
-"I thought I had dropped my handkerchief."
-
-"It is here, in your pocket." She took it out and handed it to me.
-
-"I was mistaken," I muttered.
-
-She held up her sunshade and hailed a passing hansom, saying
-energetically, and with a troubled look at me, "We will ride home."
-
-I did not object. I think if she had said "We will fly home," I should
-have made an attempt to fly, so absolutely was I, for the time,
-deprived of the power of deciding my own movements. I did not see the
-cat spring into the cab, but directly we were seated, there it lay
-crouched in front of us; and when the driver pulled up at our house
-there it was waiting for the street door to be opened.
-
-"Lie down and rest yourself for an hour," said my wife, with deep
-concern in her voice.
-
-"No," I replied, "I will smoke a pipe in the garden."
-
-With wifely solicitude she filled my pipe for me, and held a lighted
-match to the tobacco. I puffed up, thanked her with a look, and went
-into the garden accompanied by the cat.
-
-In the part of London in which we live there are pleasant gardens
-attached to many of the houses, and our little plot of ground is by no
-means to be despised. It is some ninety feet in length, is divided in
-the center by a broad graveled space, and has a graveled walk all
-around it; and here when the weather permits, my wife and I frequently
-sit and enjoy ourselves. I am also the proud possessor of a
-greenhouse, which, as well as the borders and beds I have laid out, is
-in summer and autumn generally bright with flowers, of which I am very
-fond; and into this greenhouse I walked to smoke the green fly, which
-was doing its worst for my pelargoniums. There are a couple of trees
-in my garden, and birds' nests in them. The birds were flitting among
-the branches, and I looked at the cat, wondering whether it would
-spring after its feathered victims.
-
-It took no notice of them, nor they of it. I remained in the
-greenhouse ten or twelve minutes, and then it occurred to me to make
-an experiment. With a swift and sudden motion I left the greenhouse
-and pulled the door behind me, shutting the cat inside. I walked
-toward the center of the garden, and the animal I thought I had
-cunningly imprisoned glided on at my side. Doors shut and locked, and
-doubtless stone walls, presented no greater obstacle to the creature
-than the air I breathed.
-
-I sat down on the garden seat and smoked and pondered, and was aroused
-by a soft purring at my feet, and the contact of a furry body against
-my legs. I uttered an exclamation, and, looking down, saw our own
-household cat--a tortoise-shell tabby--rubbing against me. Now,
-thought I, there will be a fight. But there was nothing of the kind. I
-felt convinced that the skeleton cat saw our tortoise-shell cat, and
-presently I was quite as convinced that the flesh and blood reality
-was unconscious of the presence of the disembodied spirit.
-
-I made another experiment. I went stealthily into the kitchen, and
-filled a saucer with milk. This saucer I took into the garden and put
-upon the gravel before the two cats.
-
-"You must be hungry," I said aloud to the spectral figure, with a
-feeble attempt at jocularity. "Lap up."
-
-It made no movement. With a look of gratitude at me our tabby lapped
-up the whole of the milk, and licked the saucer dry.
-
-My wife came out and, seeing what I had done, smiled.
-
-"Are you feeling better?" she asked solicitously.
-
-"There is nothing whatever the matter with me," I said, with an
-unreasonable show of irritation.
-
-She wisely made no reply, and I was once more left alone with my
-supernatural companion.
-
-Thus passed the day, and I was glad when the hour arrived for Bob
-Millet to make his appearance. He came punctually and was cordially
-received by my wife.
-
-"You are in time for tea, Mr. Millet," she said, shaking hands with
-him. "I want you to feel that you are really welcome here."
-
-"Indeed I do feel so," said Bob, gratified by this reception, which I
-fancy he hardly expected.
-
-They made a good meal, but though my wife had thoughtfully prepared a
-dish of which I was very fond--a tongue stewed with raisins--I ate
-very little.
-
-"No appetite, Ned?" said Bob.
-
-I shook my head gloomily.
-
-"He is out of sorts, Mr. Millet," said my wife, "and I am delighted
-you are here to cheer him up. He has me to thank for his low spirits;
-it is all because of my stupid wish to leave the house in which we are
-as comfortable as we could reasonably hope to be. I have worried him
-to death, almost, dragging him about against his will--though he has
-never complained--from morning till night for I don't know how long
-past. He is not half the man he was; he doesn't eat well and he
-doesn't sleep well, and I am to blame for it."
-
-She was ready to cry with remorse, and I felt ashamed of myself for
-not having the strength to battle with the delusion which surely would
-not torture me forever.
-
-I patted her on the shoulder, and put on a more cheerful countenance.
-She brightened up instantly, and then Bob asked whether we had been to
-79 Lamb's Terrace.
-
-"Yes, we have," said my wife, "and I am truly thankful that we got out
-of it safely."
-
-"Ah!" said Bob, lifting his eyes.
-
-"You were right, Mr. Millet," said my wife, "the house is haunted."
-
-"Oh," said Bob, "I only told you what I had heard. For my part, I
-don't even know where Lamb's Terrace is."
-
-"Take my advice, Mr. Millet, and don't try to know. The less you see
-of the place the better it will be for you."
-
-"Why?"
-
-"Because it _is_ haunted," she replied with emphatic shakes of her
-head, "and I am much obliged to you for putting us on our guard."
-
-"Then you saw something?"
-
-My wife looked at me.
-
-"Tell him what you fancy you saw," I said.
-
-"It was not fancy," she rejoined; "I have been thinking over it during
-the day, and the more I think, the more I am convinced that I did
-see--what I saw."
-
-"I should like to hear about it," said Bob.
-
-"You shall."
-
-And she told him all; of our going over the house till we got to the
-room on the second floor, of my pulling the bell, of the sounds we had
-heard proceeding from the basement and approaching nearer and nearer
-till they were outside in the passage, of my locking the door, of the
-door opening of its own accord, and of the appearance on the threshold
-of the specter of a young girl, and, finally, of her fainting away.
-
-"It was only my obstinacy," she said, "that took us up to the top of
-the house. Edward was quite ready to leave it before we had been in
-the place two minutes, but I insisted upon going into all the rooms,
-and I was properly punished for it. I was frightened enough, goodness
-knows, before I fainted, for I was chilled all over by what I had
-already seen, and I ought to have been satisfied; but you know what
-women are, Mr. Millet, when they take a fancy into their heads."
-
-"There, Bob," said I, "there's a confession to make; not many women
-would say as much."
-
-Bob smiled, and said, "You are too hard on yourself. We are much of a
-muchness--men and women alike; there is nothing to choose between us."
-
-"You are very good to say so, Mr. Millet."
-
-"When you recovered from your faint," said Bob, "was the figure still
-there?"
-
-"No, it was gone."
-
-"And you did not see it again?"
-
-"No, thank God!"
-
-"Did you see it?" asked Bob, turning to me. "He says he didn't," said
-my wife, quickly replying for me, "but----"
-
-"But," I added, "she does not believe me."
-
-"How can I believe you," said my wife reproachfully, "when the very
-moment before I swooned away I saw your eyes almost starting out of
-your head with fright."
-
-"Oh, well," I said, "I suppose I have as much right to fancy things as
-you."
-
-"Of course you have, and it was very considerate of you to deny that
-you saw anything. He is the best husband in the world, Mr. Millet, and
-if he thinks I don't appreciate him he is mistaken."
-
-"Now, my dear," I said soothingly, "you know I don't think anything of
-the sort; if I am the best husband in the world, so are you the best
-wife in the world. What do you say to our going in for the flitch of
-bacon?"
-
-"It is all very well to make a laughing matter of it," said my wife
-seriously. "I will ask Mr. Millet this plain question. He may say,
-like you, that it is all fancy; but pray how does he account for the
-opening of a locked door?"
-
-"I told you," I interposed before Bob could speak, "that I must have
-been mistaken in supposing I had locked it."
-
-"Very good. But the door was shut if it was not locked."
-
-"I don't deny that it was."
-
-"How did it come open, then?"
-
-"I told you that, too," I replied. "The wind."
-
-"What wind?"
-
-"The wind from the window through the broken panes."
-
-She turned to Bob triumphantly. "What do you think of that, Mr.
-Millet? When we go into the room the door slams, and my husband says
-it slams because of the wind through the window. I accept that as
-reasonable, but is it reasonable to suppose that the same wind that
-blows a door shut from the inside of a room should blow it open from
-the outside?"
-
-"Well, no," said Bob, with a sly look at me; "I should say it was not
-reasonable."
-
-I was fairly caught. My wife's logic was too much for me.
-
-"And now," said she, "as I know it will worry him if I go on talking
-about it, I will leave you two gentlemen together while I go and look
-after some affairs. You will spend the evening with us, Mr. Millet?"
-
-"With much pleasure," he said.
-
-"And I beg your pardon," she said, "for having misjudged you. I did
-think that you and my husband were in a plot together to set me
-against the house, and I did not think it was nice behavior in a
-gentleman who was paying me his first visit. I told my husband as much
-last night before we went to sleep, and he stood up for you like the
-true friend he is; and now I am glad to say I have found out my
-mistake. I hope you will forgive me.
-
-"There is nothing to forgive," said Bob, in the kindest and gentlest
-tone imaginable. "All that you have said and thought and done was most
-fair and reasonable, and I ought to be thankful for the little
-misunderstanding, if it has given you a better opinion of me."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VIII.
-
- I TAKE BOB INTO MY CONFIDENCE.
-
-
-"A sensible woman," said Bob, gazing after my wife; and then, in a
-more serious tone, "Ned, is it all true?"
-
-"Every word of it."
-
-"About the phantom of the girl?"
-
-"Yes, about the phantom of the girl. Frightfully, horribly true!"
-
-"You saw it?"
-
-"I did; and I would swear it was no trick of imagination."
-
-"And the door opened, as your wife has described?"
-
-"It did, and I will swear that _that_ was no trick of the
-imagination."
-
-We had moved our chairs and were sitting by the open window, from
-which stretched the bright prospect of the flowers in my garden; there
-was a space of some three feet between our chairs as we sat facing
-each other, and on this space lay the skeleton cat.
-
-"There is something more," I said. "Look down here." I pointed to the
-cat.
-
-"Well? I am looking."
-
-"What do you see?"
-
-"Nothing."
-
-"Absolutely nothing?"
-
-"Nothing, except the carpet."
-
-"Bob, would you judge me to be a man possessed of a fair amount of
-common sense?"
-
-"Certainly."
-
-"Not likely to give way to fads and fancies?"
-
-"Certainly."
-
-"Caring, as a rule, more for the prosaic than the romantic side of
-things?"
-
-"I should say that, without doubt."
-
-"And you would say what is true of me, up to the present moment. I
-prefer the plain bread-and-butter side of life, and though I hope I
-have a proper sympathy for my fellow-creatures, I am not given to
-extravagant sentiment. I am putting this description of myself in very
-plain words, because I really want you to understand me as I am."
-
-"I think I do understand you, Ned."
-
-"I have never had a nightmare," I continued, "and, as a rule, my sleep
-is dreamless. It is true that my rest has been a little disturbed
-lately by my wife's wish to move, but the few restless nights I have
-passed from this reason are quite an exception. To sum myself up
-briefly and concisely, I claim to be considered a healthy human being
-in mind and body."
-
-"It is not I, Ned, who would dispute that claim."
-
-"I have told you that the spectral figure of the girl appeared to me.
-A doctor would at once declare it to be a delusion of the senses. If
-my wife informed the doctor that she also saw it, he would reply that
-she also was suffering under a delusion, and he would attempt to
-explain it away on the ground of sympathy between us. But the opening
-of the door could be no delusion; it was tight shut, and the key was
-incontestibly turned in the lock; and yet it opened to admit the
-specter. The doctor would smile at this, and ask incredulously, 'Is it
-necessary for the entrance of an apparition, that a door should be
-open, when it possesses the power of passing through material
-obstacles?' It _does_ possess such a power, Bob; I have tested and
-proved it. Now, what I have been coming to is this. My wife saw one
-apparition; I saw two."
-
-"Two?" exclaimed Bob, regarding me more intently.
-
-"Yes, two. One, the girl, vanished; the other, the cat, remained."
-
-"In Heaven's name what are you talking about?"
-
-"I am relating an absolute fact. By the side of the girl appeared the
-apparition of a skeleton cat, which accompanied me from the house,
-which glided along the streets at my side, which entered my own house
-with me, and which now lies here, on this little space of carpet
-between us, on which you see--nothing. Now, Bob, tell me at once that
-I am mad."
-
-"I shall tell you nothing of the kind; I must have a little time to
-consider. What kind of reading do you indulge in? Sensation stories?"
-
-"I chiefly read the newspapers."
-
-"Digestion good, Ned?"
-
-"In perfect condition; for the last ten years I have not had a day's
-bad health."
-
-"All that is in your favor."
-
-"Thank you. I see that you are taking a medical view of my case."
-
-"Indeed, I am not; I only want to think it out for myself. You can
-actually see the cat?"
-
-"There it lies, its yellow eyes fixed on my face."
-
-"Touch it."
-
-I stretched forth my hand and passed it over and through the
-apparition.
-
-"Does it reply by any sign?"
-
-"By none."
-
-"And yet it moves?"
-
-"When I move. Otherwise it remains motionless, in a state of
-expectation, as it appears to me.
-
-"I don't quite understand, Ned."
-
-"It is difficult to understand, but it seems to be waiting for
-something in the near or distant future. It relieves me to unburden my
-mind to you, Bob. I do not intend to confide in my wife; it would
-frighten her out of her life, and in the kindness of her heart she
-would try to make me disbelieve the evidence of my own senses.
-Therefore not a word about this to her. I hear her singing; she is
-coming back to us, and she is singing to make me cheerful. Why,
-Maria," I said, as she entered the room, "what have you got your hat
-on for? Are you going out for a walk?"
-
-"I am," she replied briskly, "and you two gentlemen are coming with
-me. It is now half-past seven, and if you will be so good as not to
-raise any objection I propose to treat you to the theater."
-
-"A good idea," said Bob Millet, in a tone as lively as her own.
-
-"No tragedies," she continued, "a play that we can have a good laugh
-over; we have had enough of tragedies to-day, and I don't intend they
-shall get the best of me. We will go to the Criterion, where you
-always get a proper return for your money, and I hope you won't object
-to the pit, Mr. Millet?"
-
-"I assure you," said Bob, with grave humor, "that when I sit in the
-pit I shall consider myself one of the aristocracy. Your wife is a
-capital doctor, Ned."
-
-Very willingly I fell in with the thoughtful proposition, and as Maria
-insisted upon paying all the expenses out of her private purse I
-allowed her to do so, knowing that it would give her pleasure.
-
-We arrived at the Criterion before the raising of the curtain and we
-saw a laughable comedy most admirably acted, which afforded us great
-enjoyment. I may say that the circumstance of the skeleton cat not
-accompanying us was the mainspring of my enjoyment. Could it have
-been, after all, an illusion? Was it really possible that the
-apparitions I had seen were the creations of my fancy? Bob whispered
-to me once:
-
-"Has it accompanied us?"
-
-"No," I whispered back, "I see nothing of it."
-
-When we were outside the theater, and were ready to depart our
-separate ways, Bob said:
-
-"Will you come and spend an hour with me to-morrow evening, Ned?"
-
-"Yes, he will," said my wife; "it will do him good. It does not do,
-Mr. Millet, for a man to mope too much at home."
-
-So I consented, and we shook hands, and wished each other good-night.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IX.
-
- I PAY BOB MILLET A VISIT.
-
-
-I was naturally curious when I arrived home to see if the cat was
-there. It was. It did not meet me at the street door, but it lay on
-the spot on which I had left it a few hours previously. Of course this
-distressed me, but I did not betray my uneasiness to my wife. I had at
-least cause for thankfulness in the silent announcement made by the
-apparition that it was not its intention to accompany me to every
-place I visited.
-
-We had our supper and went to bed; and it was an additional comfort to
-me when I found that it did not follow us to our bedroom.
-
-It was not likely, after such an exciting day, that I should pass a
-good night. My rest was greatly disturbed; and at about three o'clock
-I was wide awake. My wife was sleeping soundly. I rose quietly, thrust
-my feet in my slippers, and went downstairs to the dining-room. There
-lay the cat with its eyes wide open.
-
-"You infernal creature," I cried, holding the candle so that its light
-fell upon the specter, "what are you here for? What do you want me to
-do? Why do you not go back to your grave and leave me in peace?"
-
-I asked these questions slowly, and paused between each, with an
-insane notion that an answer might be given to them. No answer was
-vouchsafed, and I recognized the folly of my expectation. The
-peculiarity of the apparition was that its eyes never seemed to be
-closed, as the eyes of other cats are when they are in repose. It
-appeared to be ever on the watch, but what it was watching for was a
-sealed mystery to me. In a moment of exasperation I raised my hand
-against it threateningly; it did not move. I went no further than
-this, feeling that it would be cowardly to strike at a shadow. I
-returned to my bedroom, and after tossing about for an hour fell into
-a disturbed sleep.
-
-Bob lived at Canonbury, and had given me directions to take a North
-London train, his station being about half a mile from his lodgings.
-
-All the day the cat had remained in the dining-room, but when I was
-leaving the house on my visit to Bob, it rose and followed me.
-
-"Do you intend to favor me with your company?" I asked. "Very well,
-come along."
-
-And come along it did, to the train I took, got into the carriage with
-me, and emerged from it at the Canonbury station, where I found Bob
-waiting for me on the platform.
-
-"I have brought another visitor with me, Bob," I said, "but I can
-assure you it has accompanied me without any invitation."
-
-"Is it here, then?" he asked, following the direction of my eyes.
-
-"Yes, Bob, it is here." And as we walked to the old-fashioned house in
-which he rented one room at the top, I remarked, "Is it not singular
-that it did not come to the theater with me last night, and that it
-should accompany me now upon this friendly visit to you?" Bob nodded.
-"I am beginning to have theories about it," I continued, "and one is,
-that something will occur to-night in connection with the haunted
-house in Lamb's Terrace."
-
-"Do not get too many fancies into your head, old fellow," said Bob.
-
-"I will not get more than I can help, but ideas come without any
-active prompting or wish of my own; I am like a man who is being
-driven, or led."
-
-Bob's one room was by no means uncomfortable; it served at once for
-his living and bedroom, but the bed he occupied being a folding bed,
-and the washstand he used being inclosed, it did not present the
-appearance of a bedroom. There were shelves on the walls containing a
-large number of books; four or five of these were on the table.
-
-"Now, sir or madam," said I to the cat, "what do you think of Bob's
-residence, and what can we do to make you comfortable?"
-
-The cat glided to the hearthrug and stretched itself upon it; I
-wrested my attention from the unpleasant object.
-
-"I am very well off here," said Bob; "the landlady cooks my meals for
-me, and allows me to have them downstairs. I am at the top of the
-house, and there is a fine view from the roof; I often smoke for an
-hour there. You see that door in the corner; it is a closet, with a
-fixed flight of steps leading to the roof; in case of fire I should be
-safe. Sit in the armchair, Ned, and let us reason out things. I have
-been thinking a great deal about you to-day, and talking about you,
-too."
-
-"That was scarcely right, Bob."
-
-"Don't be afraid; you were not mentioned by name, and the gentleman I
-conversed with is blind. That is the reason, very likely, why he
-believes in what he does not see."
-
-"A friend of yours?"
-
-"A dear friend; a poor gentleman who has suffered, and who bears his
-sufferings with a resignation which can only spring from faith. I told
-you yesterday that I had been married and that I lost my wife. The
-gentleman I speak of is the son of my dead wife's sister, who is
-herself a widow. My wife's family were gentlefolk, who had fallen from
-affluence, not exactly into poverty, but into very poor circumstances.
-Ronald Elsdale--the name of my nephew--is a tutor; he was not born
-blind; the affliction came upon him gradually, and was accelerated by
-over study in his boyish days. Four years ago he could see, and when
-blindness came upon him he was fortunately armed, and able to obtain a
-fair living for himself and his widowed mother by tutoring. He is an
-accomplished musician, and frequently obtains remunerative engagements
-to play. He speaks modern languages fluently, is well up in the
-sciences, has read deeply, and is altogether as noble and sweet a
-gentleman as moves upon the earth."
-
-Bob spoke with enthusiasm, and it was easy to perceive that he had a
-sincere love for Mr. Ronald Elsdale.
-
-"In every way so accomplished and admirable," I said, "and with such a
-misfortune hanging over him, he needs a wife to look after him."
-
-"His mother does that," Bob replied, "with tender devotion, and Ronald
-will never marry unless--but thereby hangs a tale, as Shakspere says.
-He is not the only man who cherishes delusions."
-
-"Ah! he has delusions. I hope they are more agreeable than mine. How
-is it, Bob, that you have had time for so much talk to-day with your
-nephew?"
-
-"This is Thursday, and Mr. Gascoigne closes his office on Thursdays at
-two o'clock, so I have had a few hours at my disposal, which have been
-partly employed in talking with Ronald and partly in studying your
-case."
-
-"Explain."
-
-"I have been looking up apparitions," said Bob, pointing to the books
-upon the table.
-
-I did not trouble myself to examine them; it did not seem to me that
-the books would be of much service in my case; the facts themselves
-were sufficiently strong and stern, and I mentally scouted the idea
-that printed matter would enable me to get rid of the apparition that
-haunted me.
-
-"It is clear to me," I said, "that you think I am laboring under some
-hallucination, and that I see the specter, now lying on the hearthrug,
-with my mental and not my actual vision. Very well, Bob; a difference
-of opinion will not alter the facts."
-
-"The awkward part of it is," said Bob, "that all evidence is against
-you."
-
-I nodded toward the books on the table, and said, "All such evidence
-as that."
-
-"Yes, but you must not forget that cleverer heads than ours have
-occupied years of their lives in sifting these matters to the bottom."
-
-"In trying to sift them, Bob."
-
-"Well, in trying to sift them; but they give reasons for the
-conclusions they arrive at which it would be difficult, if not
-impossible, for men like ourselves to argue away."
-
-"There are two strong witnesses on my side," I remarked; "one is
-myself, the other is my wife. Bear in mind that we both saw the
-apparition of the girl; there was no collusion between us beforehand,
-and if, in our fright, our imaginations were already prepared to
-conjure up a phantom of the air, it is hardly possible that that
-phantom should, without previous concert, assume exactly the same form
-and shape; nor was there any after conspiracy between us as to the
-manner in which this phantom was to be dressed. Now, my wife has
-described to me the dress of the girl, the shreds of a cap sticking to
-her hair, the frock of faded pink, the carpet slippers, the black
-stockings, and I recognize the faithfulness of these details, which
-presented themselves to me exactly as they did to her. Granted that
-one mind may be laboring under a delusion, it is hardly possible that
-two minds can simultaneously be thus imposed upon. Answer that, Bob."
-
-"Sympathy," he replied.
-
-"The word I used yesterday evening, when I was imagining what the
-doctors would say upon my case; it is an easy way to get out of it,
-but it does not satisfy me. I suppose you have come across some
-curious cases in looking up apparitions?"
-
-"Some very curious cases. Here is one in which a door, not only locked
-but bolted, plays a part. A great Scotch physician relates how a
-person of high rank complains to him that he is in the habit of being
-visited by a hideous old woman at six o'clock every evening; that she
-rushes upon him with a crutch in her hand, and strikes him a blow so
-severe that he falls down in a swoon. The gentleman informs the
-physician that on the previous evening, at a quarter to six o'clock,
-he carefully locked and double bolted the door of the room, and that
-then he sat down in his chair and waited. Exactly as the clock strikes
-six the door flies wide open--as the door in Lamb's Terrace did,
-Ned--and the old woman rushes in and deals him a harder blow than she
-was in the habit of doing, and down he falls insensible. 'How many
-times has this occurred?' asks the physician. 'Several times,' is the
-reply. 'On any one of these occasions,' says the physician, 'have you
-had a companion with you?' 'No,' the gentleman replies, 'I have been
-quite alone.' The physician then inquires at what hour the gentleman
-dines, and he answers, five o'clock, and the physician proposes that
-they shall dine the next day in the room in which the old woman makes
-her appearance. The gentleman gladly consents; they dine together as
-agreed upon, and the physician--who is an agreeable talker--succeeds
-apparently in making his host forget all about the apparition.
-Suddenly, the clock on the mantelpiece is heard striking six. 'Here
-she is, here she is!' cries the gentleman, and a moment afterward
-falls down in a fit."
-
-"Very curious," I said, "and how does the wise physician account for
-the delusion?"
-
-"By the gentleman having a tendency to apoplexy."
-
-"There is, generally," I observed, "a weak spot or two in this kind of
-story. Does it say in the account that the door was locked and bolted
-when the gentleman and the physician dined together, and that the door
-flew open upon the appearance of the old lady?"
-
-"No, it does not say that."
-
-"The omission of the precaution to lock the door," I said, "is fatal,
-for the absence of that visible and material manifestation deprives
-the physician of the one strong argument he could have brought
-forward. Had the door been locked and bolted, and had the old woman
-appeared without its flying open, the physician could have said to the
-gentleman, 'You see, the door remains fastened, as we fastened it
-before we sat down to dinner; you imagined that it flew open, and
-there it remains shut, a clear proof that the old woman and her crutch
-is but a fevered fancy.' That would have disposed of this gentleman at
-once."
-
-"Quite so," said Bob.
-
-"You will, I suppose, admit that if the locked door had opened in the
-physician's presence, it would have been a sign that some spiritual
-power had been exercised for which he could not so readily have
-accounted?"
-
-"Yes, I should admit that."
-
-"Admit, then, that as my wife and I--two witnesses, each uninfluenced
-by the other--saw the locked door in Lamb's Terrace fly open, that
-_that_ is an evidence of the exercise of a spiritual power."
-
-Bob laughed a little awkwardly. "You have made me give evidence
-against myself," he said.
-
-Here there came a knock at the door, and Bob calling "Come in," the
-landlady of the house made her appearance.
-
-"Mr. Elsdale is downstairs," she said, "and was coming up, when I told
-him you had a friend with you, and he sent me to ask whether he would
-be intruding."
-
-Bob looked at me inquiringly.
-
-"Not so far as I am concerned," I said; "I should very much like to
-make your nephew's acquaintance."
-
-"Ask Mr. Elsdale to come up," said Bob; and the landlady departed.
-
-"I have more than a passing fancy to see your nephew," I said; "you
-tell me he has delusions; what he says in our discussion, which I
-don't propose to drop when he joins us, may be of interest."
-
-As I spoke Ronald Elsdale entered the room.
-
-"My nephew, Ronald Elsdale," said Bob, introducing us. "My old friend,
-Mr. Emery."
-
-As we shook hands my attention was diverted to an incident which,
-insignificant as it might appear, struck me as very singular; the
-skeleton cat had risen from the hearthrug and was now standing at
-Ronald Elsdale's feet, looking up into his face.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER X.
-
- RONALD ELSDALE GIVES OPINIONS.
-
-
-Something more singular than this next attracted my attention. Ronald
-Elsdale, blind as he was, inclined his head to the ground and seemed
-to be returning the gaze of the cat. "Can it be possible," I thought,
-"that this man, physically blind, and this cat, invisible to all eyes
-but mine, are conscious of each other's presence?" I put this to the
-test.
-
-"You appear to be listening for something," I said.
-
-"Did you bring a dog with you?" he asked. "My uncle, I know, keeps
-neither cat nor dog."
-
-"No," I replied, "I brought no dog."
-
-"Then I must be mistaken," he said, and he felt his way to the seat he
-was in the habit of occupying in Bob's room. The cat lay at his feet.
-
-I was prepossessed in the young man's favor the moment I set eyes upon
-him. He was tall and fair, a true Saxon in feature and complexion.
-There was an engaging frankness in his manner, and his bearing was
-that of a gentleman. He aroused my curiosity by a habit he had of
-closing his eyes when any earnest subject occupied his mind. He closed
-them now as he sat upon his chair, and when he opened them he said, in
-a singularly gentle voice, "My uncle has told you I am blind, Mr.
-Emery?"
-
-"Yes," I replied; "I sincerely sympathize with you.
-
-"Thank you. It is a great misfortune; but there are compensations.
-There are always compensations, Mr. Emery, even for the worst that can
-happen to a man."
-
-"It is good if one can think so," I remarked. "As a rule men are not
-patient when things are not as they wish."
-
-"It is not only useless to repine," was his reply, "it is foolish, and
-morally weak. For, admitting that there is such a principle as divine
-justice, we must also admit a divine interposition even in the small
-matters of human life. I should not speak so freely if my uncle had
-not told me of his early association with you, and of the friendly and
-affectionate greeting he received from you after a separation of
-nearly forty years. I look upon you already as a friend."
-
-"I am glad to hear you say so; we will seal the compact."
-
-I pressed his hand once more, and he responded as I would have wished
-him to respond.
-
-"I knew you would like each other," said Bob.
-
-"When I closed my eyes just now," resumed Ronald Elsdale, "it was
-because of the impression I had that there was some other living
-creature in the room beside ourselves."
-
-Bob and I exchanged glances, and Bob said:
-
-"We three are the only living creatures within these four walls of
-mine."
-
-"Of course, of course. Mr. Emery said so, and it is not likely he
-would deceive me. Blind people, Mr. Emery, are generally very
-suspicious; it follows naturally upon their affliction. Seeing
-nothing, they doubt much, and are ever in fear that they are being
-imposed upon and deceived. I am happy to say this is not the case with
-me; where I have not a fixed opinion I generally believe what is told
-me."
-
-A pang of self-reproach shot through me as he spoke. Here was I, in my
-very first interview with this frank and ingenuous young gentleman,
-deliberately deceiving him. Bob, also, did not seem quite at his ease.
-He was playing with his lower lip, always an indication in him of
-mental disturbance.
-
-"You said something just now," I observed, with a wish to change the
-subject, "about compensations for misfortune, and I infer that you
-have compensations for yours. But it must cause you regret?"
-
-"It does, but I do not fret, I do not take it to heart; I accept the
-inevitable. The proper use of the higher intelligence with which we
-are gifted is to reason calmly upon all human and worldly matters
-which touch us nearly. Those who can thus reason have cause for
-gratitude; and I have cause. Compensations? Yes, I have them.
-Difficult to describe, perhaps, because they are spiritual; inspired
-by faith or self-delusion, which stern materialists declare are one
-and the same thing."
-
-"Your uncle and I," I said, "were having a discussion upon delusions
-when you entered."
-
-"In continuation"--he turned to Bob; he seemed to know always where
-the person he was addressing was standing or sitting--"in continuation
-of the discussion we were having this afternoon?"
-
-"Yes," said Bob, "and we do not quite agree."
-
-"My uncle is a skeptic," said Ronald, "he does not believe in
-miracles."
-
-"You do?" I inquired.
-
-"Undoubtedly. It will be a fatal day for the world when faith in
-miracles is dead. Do not do my uncle an injustice, Mr. Emery; I never
-heard him speak as he spoke this afternoon when we were discussing
-this subject, and it almost seemed to me as if he were desirous of
-arguing against himself. Do you require absolute visible proof before
-you believe?"
-
-"Not always," I replied, with my eyes on the spectral cat. "I am
-forced to believe in some things which are not visible to other eyes
-than mine."
-
-"I do not quite understand you," said Ronald thoughtfully. "It is, at
-the best, but a half-hearted admission, and, regarding you in the
-light of a friend, as I do Uncle Bob, I would like to break down the
-barrier."
-
-"Try," I said anxiously.
-
-He was silent for a moment or two, considering.
-
-"My uncle, this afternoon, in the attempt to support his argument,
-brought forward some instances of spectral illusions such as that of a
-man who was in the habit of seeing in his drawing room a band of
-figures, dressed in green, who entertained him with singular dances;
-and he instanced other illusions of a like nature. These are waking
-fancies, produced either by a disordered mind or a disordered body;
-they are of the same order as dreams.
-
-
- At dead of night imperial Reason sleeps,
- And Fancy, with her train, her revel keeps.
-
-
-So by day, when the mind is disturbed by such fancies, does imperial
-reason sleep. For my own part I make no attempt to dispute the facts
-of these cases. They have been brought forward by physicians in proof
-of certain functional and scientific facts, and by wise treatment
-suffering mortals have been won from madness. In this respect they
-have served a good purpose; but materialists, and persons who now
-fashionably call themselves agnostics, seize upon these illustrations
-in proof that mortal life is of no more value, and means no more, than
-the life of a flower or the growth of a stone, and that when we die we
-are blotted out spiritually and materially forever. In their eyes we
-are so many pounds of flesh and blood; there is nothing divine,
-nothing spiritual in us; we are surrounded by no mystery. 'Miracles!'
-they cry. 'Stories for children; fables to tickle, amuse, and delude!'
-What we see and feel is, what we do not see and feel is not and cannot
-be. If this view were universal what would become of religion? The
-high priests of God, under whichever banner they preach, insist upon
-our accepting miracles, and they are right in thus insisting. You
-laugh at faith and destroy it, and in its destruction you destroy
-comfort and consolation; you destroy salvation. God is a miracle.
-Because we do not see him are we not to believe in him? Are we not to
-believe in the resurrection? Then farewell to the sublime solace that
-lies in the immortality of the soul. There is a road to Calvary called
-the Via Dolorosa, and there pilgrims kneel and see a miracle in every
-stone; there, hearts that are crushed with sorrow tarry, and go away
-blessed and comforted for the struggle of years that yet lies before
-them."
-
-His voice was deep and earnest, his handsome face glowed with
-enthusiasm. I touched his hand, and a sweet, pathetic smile came to
-his lips.
-
-"Mr. Elsdale," I said, "I thank you from my heart. May I venture to
-ask if you believe in spiritual visitations?"
-
-"Believing what I believe," he replied, "I must believe in them."
-
-"You have spoken," I continued, "of receiving comfort and consolation
-from such belief. Do you think that a man who is not, to his own
-knowledge, interested or involved in something which, for the sake of
-argument, I will call a crime, may receive a spiritual visitation
-which compels him to take an active part in it?"
-
-"Not in the crime," asked Ronald, "in the discovery of it, I suppose
-you mean?"
-
-"Yes. In the discovery of it."
-
-"I think," said Ronald, "that a man who is not in any way connected
-with it may be made an agent in its discovery."
-
-We had some further conversation on the subject, and at the expiration
-of an hour or so Ronald Elsdale took his departure, and expressed the
-hope that we should meet again, to which hope I cordially responded.
-
-As he stood with his hand on the handle of the door, the cat, which
-had risen when he rose, stood at his feet.
-
-"Are you going with him?" I mentally asked. "You are quite welcome."
-
-A troubled expression crossed Ronald's face, and he made a motion with
-his hand as if to dispel it. Then he left the room, but the cat
-remained.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XI.
-
- BOB RELATES TO ME SOME PARTICULARS OF
- RONALD ELSDALE'S DELUSION.
-
-
-I listened to the blind gentleman's footsteps as he slowly descended
-the stairs, and I asked Bob if he considered it safe to allow his
-nephew to go home unaccompanied.
-
-"Quite safe," replied Bob. "When a man loses the sense of sight he
-acquires other senses which have not been precisely defined; he seems
-to have eyes at his fingers' ends. And Ronald prefers to be alone."
-
-"Can you account," I inquired, approaching a subject which I knew was
-in Bob's mind, and to which he was unwilling to be the first to refer,
-"for his impression that there was another presence in the room beside
-ourselves?"
-
-"I cannot," said Bob curtly; "nor can you."
-
-"I do not pretend that I can; but it has set me thinking. Would you
-object to let me into the secret of the delusion under which he
-labors?"
-
-"There can be no harm in my doing so," he replied, after a pause. "In
-a certain way it is a love story, of which I believe Ronald has seen
-the end, a belief which is not shared by him. The incidents are few,
-and he sets store upon them, as most young men do who have been in
-love. It commenced about six years ago, when Ronald, fagged with
-overwork, went for a summer ramble on the Continent. He spent a few
-days in Paris, and then took the morning train to Geneva. It is a long
-travel from Paris to Geneva, and to anyone not cheerfully inclined a
-wearisome one. A happy spirit is required to enjoy a dozen hours boxed
-up in a railway carriage, but probably this day was to Ronald the
-happiest, as it was certainly the most eventful, in his life. For
-traveling in that train were a young lady and her father, a widower, I
-believe, though upon this point I cannot speak with certainty, nor can
-I tell you the gentleman's name, for the reason that Ronald has never
-mentioned it to me. The lady's was Beatrice, and that is all I know.
-In the course of that eventful day Ronald found opportunity to make
-himself of service to the young lady, but his attentions did not
-appear to be as agreeable to the father as they were to the daughter.
-It could not be doubted that she accepted them very readily, and that
-Ronald was as attractive to her as she was to him. From what I have
-gathered I should say that it was a case of love at first sight on
-both sides. Ronald, as you have seen, is a handsome young fellow, who
-would be likely to win favor with ladies all the world over, and at
-the time I am speaking of he was not oppressed by the fear of losing
-his sight.
-
-"When they were within a short distance of Geneva he asked Beatrice at
-which hotel they were going to put up, and she replied that she did
-not know. He inquired of her father, and that gentleman said he had
-not made up his mind.
-
-"'I hope we shall meet again,' said Ronald to Beatrice. 'Where do you
-go from Geneva?'
-
-"'To Chamounix, of course,' she replied. 'I have never been in
-Switzerland before. Have you?'
-
-"'Oh, yes,' he said. And then he described to her some of the most
-beautiful spots in Switzerland, and you may be sure that those
-beautiful spots were the places he intended to visit, and for which he
-had taken a circular ticket.
-
-"'Perhaps I shall see you in Chamounix,' he said. 'Do you remain long
-in Geneva?'
-
-"She could not inform him, and he had perforce to live on hope; for,
-to a fishing inquiry he put to Beatrice's father as to their probable
-length of stay in Geneva, the reply he received was that no definite
-plan of travel had been laid out. They might remain in Geneva a week
-or a fortnight, or they might leave it the next day. Even at this
-early stage of his acquaintanceship with Beatrice, Ronald discovered
-that her father did not wish to be intruded upon by strangers. It was
-dark when the train stopped at the Geneva station, and all Ronald's
-offers of assistance with the luggage were refused. However, he had
-the satisfaction, when he shook hands with Beatrice and wished her
-goodnight, of receiving from her something more than a careless
-pressure, and he marched to his hotel with the determination not to
-lose sight of her.
-
-"It was his intention to go to Cluses by rail, and thence by diligence
-to Chamounix. 'They will take a carriage, of course,' he thought, 'but
-we shall travel on the same day and arrive in Chamounix the same
-evening.'
-
-"I have no doubt that he dreamt of Beatrice that night, and that, in
-his fancy, he saw her fair face in the depths of the beautiful lake
-the next morning. But that is all he saw of her in Geneva, for though
-he made diligent search and most industrious inquiries he could not
-discover the hotel at which Beatrice and her father were staying.
-
-"I know," continued Bob, "that you have formed a favorable opinion of
-Ronald, but still you can have no idea of the stability of his
-character and of certain traits in it which distinguish him from most
-men. Once let an idea take firm possession of him and it is next to
-impossible to dislodge it. He dwells upon it, strengthens it by
-self-argument, and begets a strong faith in it. He is not easily
-discouraged and he seldom gives way to despair; he is, in a word,
-extraordinarily tenacious, and he was tenacious in this, the first
-serious love affair in his life. As he has expressed it to me, he felt
-that fate had brought him and Beatrice together, and that fate would
-not separate them. These are comfortable convictions; they rob life of
-many small miseries. Thus strengthened and fortified, Ronald continued
-his search for Beatrice in Geneva, and was not dashed because of the
-non-success that attended it. On the third day he determined to go on
-to Chamounix, and if they were not there to wait for their arrival. In
-so small a village as Chamounix Beatrice's father could scarcely hope
-to conceal his daughter from Ronald's eyes. On he went, and discovered
-that he was before them. There is but one road from Cluses to
-Chamounix, and from three to six o'clock on the afternoon of every
-successive day there was no more indefatigable pedestrian on that road
-than Ronald Elsdale. At length his patience was rewarded. An hour
-before the diligence was due he saw on the road which crosses the Arve
-a carriage, in which were seated Beatrice and her father. He did not
-wish to be seen by them so early on their arrival and he stepped out
-briskly before them to the Chamounix village. Their carriage drew up
-at the Hotel d'Angleterre and in the course of half an hour they left
-the hotel for a stroll. The moment they were out of sight he entered
-and engaged a room, and maneuvered to have his seat at the dinner
-table placed next to theirs. They were greatly surprised to see him,
-and I need scarcely say that of the two Beatrice was by far the better
-pleased. Such chance meetings, however, as these between tourists on
-the Continent are common enough, and, as Ronald is unmistakably a
-gentleman, Beatrice's father could not but receive him politely. In
-the course of conversation over the dinner table Beatrice informed
-Ronald that they intended to remain in Chamounix for at least a week.
-
-"'We are not quite sure,' said Beatrice's father quickly.
-
-"'Oh, yes, we are,' said Beatrice. 'It was a binding promise.'
-
-"He made a grimace, but did not reply.
-
-"I mention these small matters," said Bob, breaking off here, "so that
-you may rightly understand the attitude adopted by the elder gentleman
-toward my nephew, and it certainly seems to be not open to doubt that
-he did not regard Ronald with a favorable eye.
-
-"In the course of that week at Chamounix some understanding must have
-been arrived at by the young people which caused them to consider
-themselves engaged, but I believe there was nothing absolutely
-definite between them at the time. Beatrice and her father left
-Chamounix for Lucerne, and Ronald followed; but he was as unsuccessful
-in his endeavors to find them in Lucerne as he had been in Geneva. He
-went from place to place in the hope of meeting them, and it was not
-until a fortnight had elapsed that he had the happiness of tracking
-them to Como. To make short of a long story, Beatrice's father could
-no longer affect ignorance of the feelings which existed between
-Ronald and Beatrice, and in a conversation with Ronald he expressed
-open disapproval of my nephew's attentions. The only effect this
-opposition had upon Ronald was to deepen his love for Beatrice, and it
-appeared to be the same with the young lady. In one of the interviews
-between the gentlemen, Beatrice's father did not hesitate to declare
-that Ronald was following his daughter for her money, which Ronald
-indignantly denied, the truth being that he had no idea that Beatrice
-was in any way an heiress; and, except that she was a lady, and her
-father a gentleman, he was entirely ignorant of their social position.
-
-"From this point of Ronald's story, what I have to relate must be
-conveyed in more general terms. I gather that when the tour was ended
-the young people met occasionally and corresponded; and also that
-every obstacle that he could devise was placed in their way by
-Beatrice's father. Thus passed twelve months or so, at the end of
-which time the young lady mysteriously disappeared; and all Ronald's
-efforts to trace her were of no avail. It was in the midst of this
-trouble that his sight began to fail him, and then it was that he was
-assailed by the doubt whether, threatened with blindness, he had any
-right to marry. Had it not been for this impending visitation he had
-sufficient confidence in his prospects to warrant him in setting up a
-home to which he could bring a wife. But now all was changed, and the
-best he could hope for was that his exertions would enable him to
-support himself and his mother in fair comfort. If he had known how to
-communicate with Beatrice he would have explained this frankly to her,
-but he did not know where to address her; and consequently Beatrice's
-father was thus far master of the situation. As you have seen, Ronald
-was not spared the affliction; the most experienced specialists could
-do nothing for him; he finally lost his sight, and I am afraid there
-is no hope of his regaining it.
-
-"Misfortunes never come singly, and they did not come singly to
-Ronald. About a year after blindness fell upon him he heard that
-Beatrice was dead, and that before her death she had been for some
-time in London. If her love for him had been lasting and sincere it
-was strange that, being in London, she had made no effort to see him
-and had not even written to him. There would have been no difficulty
-in her doing one or the other, because she was acquainted with his
-address; and here comes in one of his delusions. Notwithstanding her
-silence he believes that she was faithful to him. Upon this you may
-reasonably ask, 'Why, then, did he himself not endeavor to meet
-her--why did he discontinue his efforts to ascertain where she was
-living?' His answer is that he could not offer her a home, that he
-dared not ask her to share his lot, and that it was his duty to set
-her free entirely. There is a lack of logic in the method of his
-reasoning. By his own action he wishes her to believe herself in no
-way bound to him, and at the same time he believes that she is
-faithful to the vows they exchanged. Lovers are seldom logical, and my
-nephew is no exception to the rule.
-
-"But this is a trifling delusion in comparison with one I am now about
-to mention.
-
-"Beatrice did not die a natural death. Retiring to rest one night,
-apparently in good health, she was found dead in her bed the next
-morning. Bear in mind that I do not vouch for the exact correctness of
-the particulars I am giving you. Ronald has always been exceedingly
-reticent upon the subject, and it is only from chance observations
-that have fallen from him that I have gathered and put together what I
-am now relating. She met her death by asphyxiation. Putting out the
-gas before getting into bed she must have accidentally turned it on
-again, for her room was filled with its fumes. In the face of all
-this, what will you think of my nephew when I tell you that he is
-under the delusion that Beatrice still lives?"
-
-With the spectral cat in full view of me, I replied:
-
-"Seeing what I see, I cast no doubt upon any man's delusions. It is
-warm here, Bob, let us go on the roof; perhaps this lady here would
-like a mouthful of fresh air."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XII.
-
- A HOUSE ON FIRE.
-
-
-Bob's phantom visitor and my faithful companion had no objection to
-the tiles, in which it may have found an endearing memory of old
-associations. Bob had fixed a couple of seats to the roof, where we
-sat and chatted and smoked, and enjoyed the usual prospect of chimney
-pots and attic windows. Sitting upon that height, accompanied by the
-spectral cat, reminded me in an odd way of one of Cruikshank's
-pictures, and I made an observation to this effect to Bob.
-
-"It _is_ rather weird," he said, "and especially in this light."
-
-The sun had set, and in the skies we saw the reflection of the yellow
-glare from the shops of crowded neighborhoods. Our conversation was
-confined within narrow limits because of the one engrossing subject
-which occupied my mind, and as we had pretty well threshed that out,
-and there was nothing particularly new to say about it, we fell into
-occasional silences, which suited the mood I was in. During one of
-these silences I observed what appeared to be an unusual restlessness
-in the cat. Instead of sitting quietly at my feet it crept backward
-and forward, and at length paused at a little distance from me, with
-its face to the west. I described these movements to Bob, and remarked
-that it seemed to be expecting something.
-
-"I wish with all my heart," was his reply, "that we could find some
-other subject to talk about than this wretched creature."
-
-"I wish so, too; but I don't see how it is possible till it bids me
-farewell. I no longer possess a will of my own, but am led or driven
-as if I were a machine."
-
-"Keep cool, Ned. I am not going to argue with you any more about the
-spiritual existence of your apparition. I accept it, and almost wish
-that it were as plain to my eyes as it is to yours. But what I want
-you to do, old fellow, while this visitation is upon you, is to keep
-cool. For less cause than you have, men have gone mad. That is an
-unusual glare in the sky; it can hardly be the reflection of
-gaslights."
-
-He extended his hand to the west--the direction in which the spectral
-cat was looking.
-
-"Do you see any connection," I asked, "between that glare and the
-attention which the apparition is bestowing upon it?"
-
-"No," replied Bob.
-
-"I do. That is the reflection of a house on fire."
-
-As the words passed my lips the cat glided up to me, and I could
-almost have deluded myself into the belief that it plucked at my
-trousers. This, of course, from so unsubstantial and impalpable a
-figure could not have been; but it is certain that by its motion it
-made me understand that I must not remain idle on the roof of Bob's
-house--that there was a fire in the distance, and that I must go to
-it.
-
-I obeyed the voiceless command.
-
-"Come!" I said to Bob.
-
-"Where to?"
-
-"To the fire, in which my spectral friend is taking the greatest
-possible interest."
-
-Bob shrugged his shoulders. "It must be a long way off."
-
-"We shall find it. Come!"
-
-There was no excitement in the immediate neighborhood as we walked
-along in the direction of the fire, being guided by the glare in the
-sky. A few persons turned their eyes upward, and, remarking that there
-was a fire somewhere, passed on. Their indifference arose from the
-circumstance that they were in no danger; I could not help reflecting
-upon the selfishness of human nature which causes men to look unmoved
-upon tragedies in which they themselves are not involved. Being
-anxious to reach the spot quickly I called a cab, which in half an
-hour conveyed us to the corner of Stanmore Street, West. This was as
-far as the driver could go, the street being deluged with water, and
-blocked with fire engines and firemen. It had been a serious
-conflagration while it lasted, but the efforts made by the brigade to
-confine it to the house in which it broke out were successful. This
-one building, however, was completely gutted, even in that short space
-of time, and the enthralling incident in connection with it which was
-upon every man's tongue was that a gentleman had perished in the
-flames. From the remarks that reached my ears I gathered that the
-house had been let out as chambers, and that when the fire arose there
-were no other persons in it except the housekeeper and the gentleman
-who lived on the first floor. The housekeeper was saved; the gentleman
-was burned to death.
-
-As I stood pondering, Bob at my side, the spectral figure of the cat
-at my feet, Bob asked, "Well, Ned, where's the connection?"
-
-"Wait," I replied, rather irritably.
-
-A woman, supported by two female friends, passed us. She was crying,
-and wringing her hands, and I learned that she was the housekeeper who
-had been saved. Instinctively I followed her, and my visible and
-invisible companions accompanied me. It was not a difficult matter to
-elicit from the housekeeper all the information it was in her power to
-impart. The gentleman who had met with so untimely an end was a single
-man, with few friends and no relations.
-
-"I don't think," said the housekeeper, "that he had a brother, or a
-sister, or a cousin in the world; leastways, so far as I know, no one
-ever came to see him who had any claim upon him. He was a quiet
-gentleman, and didn't give no trouble. What do you want to know, sir?
-Was he very rich? All I can say is he always paid his way, and always
-seemed to have plenty and to spare. His name? Mr. Alfred Warner, sir.
-Are you a friend of his?"
-
-"No," I replied--for it was I who had asked the questions to which she
-had replied--"I was not acquainted with him."
-
-"What name did she say?" asked Bob, in a whisper.
-
-"Mr. Alfred Warner," I said.
-
-Bob caught his breath, and said, "That's strange! It is the name of
-the gentleman who put into our hands No. 79 Lamb's Terrace."
-
-"There is the connection, Bob," I said. "What do you say now to the
-spectral cat and its having urged us to come to this fire?"
-
-"What can I say, except that it is most bewildering and mysterious?"
-
-"Do you think I am still laboring under a delusion?"
-
-"No, I do not."
-
-"It was not without a motive," I said, "that I asked your nephew this
-evening whether he believed that a man who is not interested in
-something which, to make myself fairly clear, I called a crime, might
-receive a spiritual visitation which compelled him to take an active
-part in its discovery. His reply was that he did believe such a thing
-could be. I believe it, too, more than ever now, after this strange
-fire; and I believe, also, that there is a crime involved in it, and
-that I--whether by design or accident I will not pretend to say--shall
-be instrumental in its discovery. My memory does not deceive me, does
-it, Bob? You told me yesterday that the gentleman who has met his
-death in that fire, Mr. Alfred Warner, when he placed 79 Lamb's
-Terrace in your employer's hands to let, did not mention the name of
-his last tenant."
-
-"Yes, I told you so," Bob answered, "and there seemed to be no reason
-why we should ask for it."
-
-"So that it is probable," I continued, "that there is not a
-disinterested person in London to whom we could go to obtain the name
-of the last tenant."
-
-"Not that I am aware of," said Bob.
-
-I looked at my watch. It was ten o'clock. "If we went to your nephew's
-house, do you think we should find him up?"
-
-"Very likely."
-
-"I am going there, Bob. I have a question to ask him."
-
-He put no opposition in my way. A kind of stupefaction appeared to
-have come over him. We drove to the residence of Ronald Elsdale, and
-found him up; his mother had gone to bed. As we entered his room, I
-observed again an uneasy expression flash into his face, and I saw his
-blind eyes turn toward the spectral cat.
-
-"Only yourselves?" he inquired.
-
-I left it to Bob to reply, and he said, "Only ourselves."
-
-"It is very odd," said Ronald, "but I have the same impression that I
-had when I entered my uncle's room this evening, that there is
-somebody or something else present. It is useless trying to account
-for it." Then he asked, "Is there anything you wish to know?"
-
-"It is a late hour to visit you," I said; "but I have a reason, which
-I cannot at present explain, for asking you where the young lady to
-whom you were attached lived when she was in London?"
-
-He turned his troubled face toward his uncle, who said, "It is not an
-idle question, Ronald. I should like you to answer it."
-
-"She may not have lived there all the time she was in London," said
-Ronald; "but I heard where it is supposed she met her death. It was in
-the Northwestern district--Lamb's Terrace, No. 79."
-
-"Thank you," I said.
-
-We wished him good-night, and left the house.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XIII.
-
- I TAKE THE HAUNTED HOUSE.
-
-
-I was too much excited to go home by train, though I knew that my wife
-would be waiting up for me. I felt the need of physical motion; the
-idea of sitting down in a railway carriage, and being compelled to
-keep still because of the people with which at this time of night it
-was sure to be filled, was unendurable. The confinement and the close
-air would stifle me. The advantage of walking through streets more or
-less crowded is that you can be alone if you choose. Every person you
-meet or pass is so wrapt up in his own affairs that no notice is taken
-of you. You may wave your arms, flourish your stick or umbrella,
-mutter to yourself, even talk aloud, without attracting conspicuous
-attention. An idle fellow or two might think you eccentric--that is
-all. In a railway carriage or an omnibus such license and freedom are
-impossible; you cannot shift your seat without drawing all eyes upon
-you, in a certain sense you become the property of other passengers,
-who would be likely to regard you with alarmed suspicion, and would
-probably conclude that you were an escaped lunatic. In such
-circumstances you are deprived of the power of devoting yourself to
-the one absorbing subject which occupies your mind.
-
-"I shall walk home," I said to Bob.
-
-He nodded, as though he understood why at so late an hour I
-deliberately inflicted upon myself a good four mile tramp. For a
-quarter of that distance we proceeded in silence, and only then did it
-occur to me that Bob was coming out of his way. I made an observation
-to this effect.
-
-"If you don't object to my company," he said, "I shall be glad to walk
-with you."
-
-"What do you think of it all?" I asked.
-
-"I don't know what to think," was his reply.
-
-"No delusion, eh, Bob?" I said, in a tone of sarcastic triumph. "You
-will not hunt up any more cases of spectral illusions to prove that I
-am on the road to madness."
-
-"No, Ned. Don't harp upon my lack of faith; the doubts I entertained
-were reasonable doubts after all. It is altogether a most awful
-mystery, but I accept it, and place myself at your service. Heaven
-only knows if I can be of any assistance to you, but it may be that
-even the renewal of our old friendship, and our coming together after
-a separation of forty years, are not due to chance. If so, I stand
-within the charmed circle."
-
-"It was not by chance we met, Bob; in the smallest incident that has
-occurred in connection with that house--which I can see now with my
-mind's eye, dark, silent, spirit-haunted--I perceive the hand of fate.
-You _can_ be of service to me."
-
-"In what way?"
-
-"I wish to take the house in Lamb's Terrace!"
-
-A startled exclamation escaped his lips, but he said immediately
-afterward, as if in apology, "Yes, Ned, yes."
-
-"I should say, rather, that I wish to have the refusal for a certain
-time of taking it for a term of years. This can be managed, I think,
-through you, and the death of your client may make it easier than it
-would otherwise have been. Say to your employer that I have not made
-up my mind whether it will suit me, and that I want a few weeks for
-consideration. Pending my decision, I will pay three months' rent, and
-at the expiration of that period, if I do not then take it for a term
-of years, it will be open to another tenant. I have no doubt that Mr.
-Gascoigne has some sort of provisional power in the matter, and that
-he will be glad of the chance there is in my offer of securing a
-permanent and responsible tenant. Will you undertake to carry this
-through?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Then you may as well walk all the way home with me, and I will write
-a check to-night, which you can give to Mr. Gascoigne in the morning.
-There is another thing which I must seriously consider. On the two
-occasions to-day when we and your nephew, and this specter of Fate
-gliding at my heels, were together, he was troubled by the fancy that
-I had brought some creature with me of which we made no mention. Is
-this new to you, or has your nephew expressed himself to a like effect
-on other occasions?"
-
-"It is quite new to me. Ronald has never had such a fancy before."
-
-"The natural conclusion, therefore, is that he was conscious of the
-presence of this apparition, without being able to define its nature.
-There is here a chain of psychological circumstances which would not
-be admissible in a court of law, but which I, with my strange
-experiences, cannot but believe to be of supreme importance. I have an
-odd impression upon me that the mysterious adventure in which I am
-engaged has lasted for some considerable time, whereas scarcely two
-days have elapsed since my introduction to beings of another world. I
-seem to be familiarized with mysterious incident, and I am so prepared
-that I doubt if anything would astonish me. Reflect, Bob, upon the
-links of a chain which is dragging me on, and which is not yet
-completely formed. Fate directs my steps, through the agency of my
-wife, to the office of Mr. Gascoigne; link number one. You, my old
-schoolfellow, whom I never thought to meet again, are employed in that
-office; link number two. My wife, against my wish, insists upon
-looking at a house to let in Lamb's Terrace, which I am certain will
-not suit us; link number three. These three links, to perfectly
-disinterested observers, would appear to be the result of the merest
-chance. We know that it is not so; we know that there is here at work
-a supernatural agency, every step in which is directed by an unseen
-power. You renew your old friendship with me, and accompany us home,
-and there you attempt to dissuade us from having anything to do with
-the house in Lamb's Terrace. Your kindly efforts are thrown away; link
-number four. You may ask me here how this seemingly trivial incident
-can be made into a link. My answer is that you are the uncle of Ronald
-Elsdale, and that when we left Mr. Gascoigne's office, had you not
-followed us and accepted my invitation to accompany us home, the
-natural probability is that I should not at the present moment have
-known of the existence of your nephew, who stands now a foremost stone
-in this monument of mystery. My wife and I visit the haunted house,
-and there we behold two apparitions, only one of which makes itself
-visible to her. I perceive two reasons for this. The first is, that
-she shall be so horrified by what she sees as to give up all idea of
-taking the house, and perhaps of ever going near it again. The second
-is, that I am the person appointed to carry this dark mystery to its
-as yet unknown end. The apparition of the girl and the cat form link
-number five. I visit your house this evening, and make the
-acquaintance of Ronald Elsdale; link number six. On this occasion, and
-on the occasion of my seeing him again in his own house an hour ago,
-he has a troubled consciousness of a spiritual presence--the presence
-of the specter now gliding at our feet; link number seven. The eighth
-link is fashioned from the circumstance that the young lady whom
-Ronald Elsdale loved and loves is said to have met her death in the
-house in Lamb's Terrace."
-
-"You have reasoned all this out," said Bob, "in a most wonderful way."
-
-"It is not I who reason it out. I am conscious of the extent of my own
-natural powers, and it would be impossible for me to bring forward
-these links and to logically connect them were I not spiritually
-directed. What is occupying my mind just now is the question whether I
-ought to take Ronald Elsdale into my confidence without waiting for
-further developments?"
-
-Bob's reply was very humble. "Whatever you decide upon, Ned, will be
-right. The fatalist never doubts that the least incident in his life
-could have been otherwise than it is."
-
-"Truly," I said, "I am in the position of a fatalist, and once a step
-is decided upon I shall not hesitate to take it, and shall not
-question its wisdom. By to-morrow morning the question will be
-answered for me."
-
-My wife opened the street door for us.
-
-"Why, who would have thought of seeing you, Mr. Millet!" she
-exclaimed. "But come in, come in; there's a bit of supper for you.
-Now, you two keeping together at this time of night shows what friends
-you must have been when you were boys. I hope you've had a pleasant
-evening."
-
-"Rather an exciting one," I said. "We have been at a fire."
-
-"A fire! Where?"
-
-"In Stanmore Street; a long way from here."
-
-"No one hurt, I hope?"
-
-"An unfortunate gentleman lost his life in the fire. It is rather
-curious, Maria, that this gentleman should have been the owner of the
-house we looked over in Lamb's Terrace yesterday."
-
-The news made her grave. "There is nothing but trouble connected with
-that dreadful place," she said. "But there, I don't want to think of
-it. I'd have given a good deal never to have set foot in it."
-
-Before Bob left I wrote out the check for Mr. Gascoigne, and when I
-went to bed I was kept awake for a long time by thinking whether I
-ought to take Ronald Elsdale immediately into my confidence. I fell
-asleep with this question in my mind, and when I awoke in the morning
-I decided that it would be first advisable that I should ascertain
-some particulars of the last tenant, and of the death of the young
-lady, Beatrice. It was not an easy task I now set myself, and I felt
-that there was little chance of success, if I attempted it unaided.
-Desultory inquiries could lead to no satisfactory result, and I
-therefore determined to enlist the services of a private inquiry
-agent. Casting my mind over the most likely person to assist me, I
-recollected that a friend some years ago had need of the services of
-such a person, and had employed one Mr. Dickson, with good effect.
-Looking through the columns of a morning paper I saw Mr. Dickson's
-advertisement; and at eleven o'clock I set out for his office, which
-was situated in Arundel Street, Strand. On my doorstep I confronted a
-telegraph boy with a telegram for me. It was from Bob, and it ran as
-follows:
-
-
- Arranged house, Lamb's Terrace; yours for three months.
-
-
-My interview with Mr. Dickson was soon over. I explained to him what I
-wanted done, and he undertook the commission for a specified sum. It
-was arranged that he should give me his report in writing, and he
-promised to set about the inquiry without delay.
-
-"Will it lead to anything further?" he asked.
-
-"It is quite probable," I replied; "but at present this is all I
-require of you."
-
-Two days afterward I received his report.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XIV.
-
- A MEAGER REPORT FROM THE INQUIRY AGENT.
-
-
-"Sir: From inquiries I have made I am enabled to give you certain
-information respecting the matter you placed in my hands.
-
-"The uncompleted term of the lease of the house, 79 Lamb's Terrace,
-was transferred, about nine years ago (not six or seven as you gave me
-to understand), to a gentleman of the name of Nisbet. At the time that
-this transfer was made the principal landlord was abroad--I believe in
-Australia--and his business affairs were in the hands of a firm of
-solicitors whose address I have not taken the trouble to ascertain, as
-it does not come within the limit of my instructions. Any information
-you wish upon this, or any other points which you did not mention in
-our interview, I shall be happy to obtain for you.
-
-"Mr. Nisbet's family, at the time he entered into possession of 79
-Lamb's Terrace consisted of himself and his stepdaughter Beatrice--he
-being her mother's second husband. Beatrice's mother died four months
-after her marriage with Mr. Nisbet, and by her will she left the bulk
-of her fortune to her daughter, and only a small portion of it to her
-husband. He was appointed guardian to Beatrice, and in the event of
-her death her fortune was to revert to him.
-
-"Should you desire to become acquainted with the precise terms and
-phraseology of the will, you can do so at Somerset House.
-
-"The young lady inherited £60,000 invested in consols. From the
-interest of this sum Mr. Nisbet was to receive £1000 a year for his
-guardianship of his stepdaughter; and £200 per annum was apportioned
-to the young lady for pin money. The remaining portion of the interest
-was to accumulate until the young lady was twenty-one years of age,
-when she was to come into possession of it and the original capital. I
-have glanced through the will, and it appears to be carefully and
-sensibly worded, and devoid of complications.
-
-"According to my information, Mr. Nisbet was deeply affected by the
-death of his wife, and he sought consolation in foreign travel. The
-consequence was that he and his stepdaughter spent much of their time
-abroad, and the house in Lamb's Terrace was occupied but a few weeks
-every year. About four years ago they returned to London, with the
-intention, as I learn, of remaining here some time.
-
-"Their domestic affairs, however, do not appear to have gone on
-smoothly; they had difficulties with servants, and after a while were
-left with only one, a young woman who, I should judge, was willing to
-make herself generally useful, and was rather more amiable than the
-majority of her class; otherwise she would not have remained. Keeping
-house under such circumstances presented few attractions, and they
-were contemplating taking up their permanent residence on the
-Continent when a calamity occurred which frustrated this intention and
-broke up the establishment.
-
-"The young lady, going to bed, turned off the gas in her room, as she
-supposed, and went to sleep.
-
-"Certain conjectures must be taken into account. If she had turned out
-the light and taken away her hand at once, there would have been no
-escape of gas. Whether, after the light was out, she carelessly or
-willfully turned on the tap again, or whether she got up in the night
-and did so, cannot be proved at this distance of time, because there
-was no witness of the incident with the exception of herself. Next
-morning she was found dead in her bed, having been suffocated by the
-fumes of the escaped gas.
-
-"There was an inquest, and the evidence given of the cause of death
-was accepted as conclusive. Mr. Nisbet shut up the house in Lamb's
-Terrace, and left England. Having no instructions to ascertain where
-he is at the present time, I have made no inquiries.
-
-"By the terms of his wife's will he came into possession of his
-stepdaughter's fortune.
-
-"I inclose a newspaper, containing an account of the inquest, and I
-shall be happy to prosecute the inquiry in any further direction you
-desire.
-
- "Yours obediently,
-
- "James Dickson."
-
-
-Although this report was not so full as I expected it to be, I had no
-cause of complaint against Mr. Dickson. He had kept strictly within
-the limit of his instructions, which he had taken down in writing from
-my lips, and he had lost no time; I had, therefore, reason to be
-satisfied with him. I turned my attention to the account of the
-inquest.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XV.
-
- WHAT THE INQUEST REVEALED.
-
-
-"An inquest was held yesterday at the Hare and Hounds on the body of
-Beatrice Lockyer, a young lady residing with her stepfather at 79
-Lamb's Terrace, who met her death by suffocation. The coroner said
-this was a sad case, the deceased being young and apparently in good
-health on the night of the occurrence. The facts appeared to be very
-simple, and the jury would have little difficulty in arriving at a
-verdict. The first witness called was Mr. Nisbet, the deceased's
-stepfather, who gave his evidence with manifest distress.
-
-"'What is your name?'
-
-"'Oliver Nisbet.'
-
-"'Profession?'
-
-"'None. I live on my means.'
-
-"'What relation do you bear to the deceased?'
-
-"'She was my stepdaughter.'
-
-"'Her age?'
-
-"'Twenty last birthday.'
-
-"'Is her mother living?'
-
-"'No, she died four years ago.'
-
-"'How long were you married?'
-
-"'A few months only.'
-
-"'At the time of her mother's death the deceased was sixteen years
-old?'
-
-"'Yes.'
-
-"'Did her death affect the deceased in any particular way?'
-
-"'She was deeply grieved at the loss, but apart from this natural
-feeling there was no change in her.'
-
-"'Have you observed any change in her during the last few days or
-weeks?'
-
-"'No; we had had domestic worries with servants, such as happen to
-most housekeepers in London, but they had passed away, and as we had
-determined to reside abroad we regarded them rather with amusement. We
-looked forward to an easier life in a foreign country.'
-
-"'On the night of your stepdaughter's death, at what hour did she
-retire to her room?'
-
-"'At a little after ten.'
-
-"'Who was in the house besides yourselves?'
-
-"'No one.'
-
-"'You had a servant left. What became of her?'
-
-"'It was arranged that she should remain in our service on the
-Continent, and we sent her on before us.'
-
-"'Where to?'
-
-"'To Lucerne. I had taken a châlet in Vitznau, and she was to proceed
-there to see to the rooms, and to await our arrival.'
-
-"'How is it that you and the deceased remained in the house when there
-were no servants in it?'
-
-"'It was against my desire. I wished my daughter to go to a hotel, but
-she refused. She said we could manage very well at home. She had an
-aversion to English hotels, and was never happy in one. As we were to
-leave London the next day, I humored her.'
-
-"'Can you give us any explanation of the cause of her aversion to our
-hotels?'
-
-"'She was in the habit of saying that they were so different to
-Continental hotels--so stiff and formal. But I do not think that was
-quite the reason. She was nervously distrustful of herself in the
-society of strangers, and was, I regret to say, of a melancholy
-disposition.'
-
-"'Had this been always the case with her?'
-
-"'From her childhood, her mother used to tell me. For years past I
-have endeavored to bring her to a more cheerful frame of mind by
-travel and constant change of scene, but I fear my efforts were
-wasted.'
-
-"'Was her mother of a similar disposition?'
-
-"'Yes. It is a natural inference that it was inherited.'
-
-"'How did you pass the day before her death?'
-
-"'We breakfasted together in the morning--a simple breakfast, which
-she herself got ready--and then I went into the city to complete the
-arrangements for our journey, and to settle my monetary affairs. This
-occupied several hours. At six o'clock I returned home, with the
-intention of taking her out to dinner; but she had a little dinner
-prepared for us, and said she would enjoy it much more than dining
-out. After dinner we chatted, and she played upon her zither.'
-
-"'Cheerful airs?'
-
-"'No; but she was a very sweet player, and whether her music was sad
-or bright, it was a pleasure to listen to it.'
-
-"'Have you at any time observed a disposition in her to commit
-suicide?'
-
-"'Never; and I never heard her utter a word to indicate that she was
-tired of life.'
-
-"'Was her general health good?'
-
-"'Yes, fairly good; she suffered a little from headaches, but she has
-had no serious illness in my experience of her.'
-
-"'Describe your movements on the morning of her death.'
-
-"'I rose at about eight o'clock, and employed an hour in packing my
-bags. We were to leave the house for the station at half-past ten. At
-nine o'clock I listened, and did not hear her move. I was not
-surprised at this, because she was a late riser and frequently
-overslept herself. During our travels we have lost trains from this
-cause. I went to her room, and knocked and called, and, receiving no
-answer, opened the door, and was immediately driven back by the fumes
-of gas. Dreading a calamity, I rushed in and threw the window open;
-then I saw my dear daughter lying motionless upon her bed. I was
-educated in the medical profession, though I do not follow it. I made
-a hasty examination of her condition and, fearing the worst, I ran for
-Dr. Cooper. He accompanied me back to the house, and confirmed my
-fears.'
-
-"'Her bedroom door was unlocked?'
-
-"'It was; she would never lock it, being, I think, afraid of fire. It
-was hard to reason her out of any of her fancies. I frequently
-expostulated with her upon her dislike to fresh air. I tried to induce
-her to keep her bedroom window open a little from the top, but I could
-not persuade her that it was unhealthy to sleep in a close room.'
-
-"'That is all the information you can give us?'
-
-"'I know nothing further.'
-
-"Dr. Cooper's evidence tallied with that already given. He had been
-called to the deceased by Mr. Nisbet, who had come to him in a state
-of great agitation, and whom he had accompanied immediately to Lamb's
-Terrace, arriving at the house too late to be of any service. The
-unfortunate young lady had been dead for hours, and the cause of death
-was indisputable.
-
-"There were no other witness and after a brief summing up a verdict
-was returned of death by misadventure."
-
-
-I gathered from the account that the case had excited very little
-interest and attention, and was soon over and forgotten.
-
-This is all I learned from the report of Mr. Dickson and the account
-of the inquest.
-
-The bare facts were clear enough to the ordinary mind, that is to say,
-to the mind that had no profound motive to urge it to look beneath the
-surface. They were clear enough to me, but not in any sense
-satisfactory. It appeared to my judgment that the inquest was hurried
-over, that statements had been accepted which should have been the
-subject of more searching examination, and that any person deeply
-interested in the case would have asked questions which did not seem
-to have occurred to coroner and jury. My own experience had led me to
-the conclusion that at these hasty inquests many important matters of
-detail which might have a vital bearing on the verdict are altogether
-overlooked. The coroners have too much to do, too many inquiries to
-make in the course of a few hours; the jury, dragged from their
-occupations without adequate remuneration, are only anxious to get the
-matter over and return to their businesses and homes. There should be
-some better method of procedure in these important investigations if
-it is desired that justice shall be properly served, and for my part I
-was stirred by an uneasy consciousness that in this instance justice
-had been hoodwinked. How, indeed, could I have felt differently with
-the specter cat lying at my feet, and looking up into my face?
-
-The silent monitor was an irresistible force. Although the death of
-Beatrice Lockyer did not personally concern me, and I had no direct
-interest in discovering whether she died by fair means or foul, I was
-impelled onward by the conviction that I should never be freed from
-this supernatural visitation until the truth was brought to light.
-
-It was evening when I received and read the report of the inquiry
-agent and the account of the inquest, and I had made no appointment to
-meet Bob. On the chance of finding him at home, I took the train to
-Canonbury, leaving a message with Maria that if he called during my
-absence he was to remain till I returned. Accompanied by my spectral
-companion, I mounted Bob's staircase, and he, hearing my footsteps,
-received me on the landing.
-
-"I half expected you," he said, casting his eyes downward.
-
-"It is with me, Bob," I said, answering the look. "Have you seen your
-nephew to-day?"
-
-"No," he replied. "I should not be surprised if he pops in to-night.
-You have some news?"
-
-"Mr. Dickson has sent me certain particulars relating to the death of
-the young lady, whose name, as you will see, is Beatrice Lockyer. I
-should like to go through them with you, and to hear what strikes you
-as having a suspicious bearing on the case."
-
-I handed him the papers I had brought with me, and he read them
-carefully.
-
-"I doubt," he said, when he had finished, "whether Ronald knows to
-this day that Beatrice was not Mr. Nisbet's daughter."
-
-"Would he not have read the account of the inquest?" I inquired.
-
-"He could not read it himself; he was blind at the time, recollect;
-and I know no one who would have inflicted upon him the pain of making
-him acquainted with the sorrowful details. I am convinced that these
-published particulars have not come to his knowledge."
-
-"Point out weak and suspicious points, Bob."
-
-"She was not his daughter," said Bob.
-
-"Exactly. And therefore there was no reason why he should have had any
-strong affection for her."
-
-"I suppose," said Bob, "that we had best take the worst view of
-anything that suggests itself."
-
-"I don't intend to soften anything down," I replied. "At present we
-are doing no one an injustice, and I am inclined to accept the most
-terrible suggestion without shrinking. We need not give it a name,
-Bob. If it is in your mind as it is in mine, let it rest there till
-the time arrives to proclaim it aloud."
-
-Bob nodded and said, "There was a large fortune. £60,000 is a tempting
-bait."
-
-"Observe," I remarked, "that at the inquest no allusion is made to the
-fact that Mr. Nisbet would so largely benefit by the death of his
-stepdaughter."
-
-"It is singular, Ned. Could it have been willfully suppressed?"
-
-"If so it was suppressed by only one man--the man who has obtained
-possession of the fortune. Who else at the inquest could have known
-anything about it? Not the coroner, certainly, or it would have been
-mentioned; certainly not the jury, to whom the unfortunate young lady
-and her stepfather were absolute strangers. Mr. Nisbet, as it appears
-to me, had the game entirely in his hands, and could play it as served
-him best. There was no one to question him or his motives, not a soul
-to come forward to verify or falsify anything he cared to say. He and
-Beatrice were alone together in this great city, cut off, as it were,
-from all mankind. There is no mention of the name of a single friend.
-On the night of her death only he and she were in the house, in that
-lonely, wretched house which my stupid wife had set her heart upon."
-
-"It must have been in a better state then than it is now."
-
-"Granted; but there are large grounds attached to the house, and there
-was not even a fitful gardener employed to keep it in order, who could
-come forward and say, 'I will tell you what I know.'"
-
-"Are you sure of that, Ned?" asked Bob.
-
-"Ah! It is a suggestion that must not be lost sight of. There is the
-value of talking a thing over in an open way. At all events, no such
-man makes his appearance. Now, does it stand to reason that a lady and
-gentleman of ample means would willingly bury themselves in such a
-place? If the man had been straight minded and right minded, would he
-not have insisted on taking a young lady whom he calls his daughter
-into more comfortable quarters? He is her guardian, her protector, she
-has no one else to depend upon, she has no friend in whom she can
-confide. Although, as you say, the house must have been in a better
-condition then than it is now, is it at all likely that, without some
-sinister motive, Mr. Nisbet should have deliberately selected a
-residence in so cheerless a locality? He says she was averse to
-society. We have only his word for that. From the little concerning
-her which Ronald Elsdale has imparted to you it does not appear that
-she was disinclined to make pleasant acquaintances. Why did not her
-stepfather give her opportunities of doing so? On the contrary, he
-regards with aversion even the slight advances which a gentleman like
-Ronald, with everything in his favor, pays her on a legitimate
-occasion. Is that in his favor?"
-
-"It tells against him distinctly."
-
-"Your nephew describes her as a young lady of singular attractions.
-What does such a lady naturally look forward to? Would it not be to
-marriage, to a home of her own? But, that accomplished, all chance of
-Mr. Nisbet coming into a fortune of £60,000 would be lost? Here we
-find the motive spring of his actions. It was for this, probably, that
-he married the mother. So dark are the thoughts that keep cropping up
-in my mind that I ask myself, 'How did the mother meet her death?'"
-
-I had worked myself into a state of great excitement, and I was now
-restlessly pacing Bob's little room.
-
-"Even without this evidence," I continued, pointing to the apparition
-of the cat, "I should suspect his motives. With such evidence I am
-almost ready to condemn him unheard. The arguments I bring forward
-seem to me reasonable and conclusive, and so far as lies in my power I
-will bring the matter to its rightful issue."
-
-"I cannot blame you," said Bob, "and, as I have already told you, I
-will assist you if I can. The difficulty is, where to commence. You
-have no starting point."
-
-"I have. The house in Lamb's Terrace. I shall put your courage to the
-test before I leave you to-night; but I will speak of that presently.
-There is another circumstance I wish to refer to with respect to Mr.
-Nisbet's evidence at the inquest. He speaks of the one domestic who
-remained in their service after the others had left, or had been
-discharged."
-
-"Why do you say discharged?"
-
-"It has only at this moment occurred to me. Things suggest themselves
-as I ventilate the subject which I did not think of at first. We may
-be able to find one of these servants who left of their own accord, or
-were turned away. Keeping to this one domestic who remained faithful
-to them, the probability is that it was an English girl of humble
-origin. This being so, it is still more probable that she knew nothing
-of foreign countries and foreign travel; and that she could speak no
-language but her own."
-
-"Well?"
-
-"Mr. Nesbit says he sent her on to Lucerne before the day on which he
-intended to start with Beatrice, and that she was to proceed to
-Vitznau from Lucerne to attend to the rooms he had taken there. Was
-that not a curious thing to do, and was it likely that an ignorant
-London domestic could be expected to reach the place without mishap."
-
-"It was a strange proceeding."
-
-"It is more than strange. If we could lay hands upon that girl we
-might learn something useful. If we can find her people----" I paused;
-there were footsteps on the stairs, and I knew, from the care that was
-being taken in ascending, that it was Ronald Elsdale who was coming
-up. I opened the door for him, and gave him good-evening. I observed
-again the look of discomposure on his face as he entered the room;
-again I saw him turn his eyes downward to the spot upon which the cat
-was lying. He made no reference, however, to the fancy which oppressed
-him, but brushed his hand across his forehead, as he had done before.
-
-"I am glad you are here, Mr. Emery," he said. "I wished to ask you
-something. Why did you want to know where the young lady lived whom,
-but for my blindness, I should have asked to be my wife?"
-
-I paused a moment before I spoke. I felt that the time had not arrived
-to take him fully into my confidence.
-
-"I beg you will not press me," I said; "I had a reason, but I cannot
-disclose it at present."
-
-"You will some day?"
-
-"Yes, I promise you."
-
-"Thank you. I have been thinking of it a great deal, and I felt that
-you did not ask the question out of idle curiosity."
-
-"I did not. And now, if you will deal more generously to me than it
-may appear I am dealing to you, I should like to ask another question
-or two concerning her--if," I added, "the subject is not too painful
-to you."
-
-He turned to his uncle, who said, "Yes, answer the questions, Ronald."
-
-"I will do so freely," he said.
-
-"I assure you," I commenced, "that I am impelled by a strong and
-earnest motive, and that before long you shall know all that is
-passing in my mind. When you met her on the Continent, did she give
-you the impression that she was of a morbid or melancholy
-temperament?"
-
-"Not at all. She was always cheerful and animated."
-
-"Was she averse to society? Did she show that it was distasteful to
-her?"
-
-"Oh, no. With modesty and discretion she seemed glad to converse with
-people whose manners were agreeable and becoming."
-
-"She had a favorite instrument, had she not, upon which she was fond
-of playing?"
-
-"You seem to know a great deal about her, Mr. Emery. Her favorite
-instrument was the zither."
-
-"Have you heard her play upon it?"
-
-"Yes, and her touch was sweet and beautiful."
-
-"Would you say that her inclination was to play sorrowful or somber
-airs?"
-
-"By no means. The zither does not lend itself to boisterous music,
-there is a tenderness in the instrument which goes to the heart. Her
-taste lay in the direction of sweetness; but there was nothing
-sorrowful or somber in her playing."
-
-These questions answered, I succeeded in changing the subject of
-conversation, and Ronald stopped with us an hour, and then took his
-departure, saying before he left, "I rely on your promise, Mr. Emery."
-
-When he was gone I said to Bob, "False in one thing, false in all. Mr.
-Nisbet's evidence at the inquest was a tissue of fabrications. Now,
-Bob, I am going to put you to the test. The house in Lamb's Terrace is
-mine for three months. Will you spend a night or two with me there?"
-
-He looked up, rather startled at the proposition; but any uneasiness
-he may have felt passed away almost immediately.
-
-"Yes," he replied. "When?"
-
-"Not to-morrow night. It would not be fair. You have to get to the
-office on the following morning, and a night of unrest may interfere
-with your duties. Your Sundays are free. Let us fix Saturday night."
-
-"Very well, Ned. What explanation will you give to your wife?"
-
-"I shall exercise a pardonable deceit upon her. On Saturday afternoon
-you and I will be supposed to be going to Brighton for a blow. She
-will raise no objection and we may depend upon her not disturbing us.
-Untold gold would not tempt her into that house again."
-
-"I will join you," said Bob, in a serious tone. "I should not like you
-to be alone there."
-
-So it was arranged, and I bade him good-night.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XVI.
-
- IN 79 LAMB'S TERRACE.
-
-
-As I supposed, my wife was entirely agreeable to the seaside
-excursion, and professed herself delighted at the idea.
-
-"You should go about more," she said. "Too much moping at home is bad
-for a man. We don't notice the changes that take place in ourselves,
-but others do."
-
-"You have noticed some change in me?" I asked.
-
-"I have. You are not half the man you used to be; your good spirits
-seem to have quite deserted you, and you keep looking about you in a
-most suspicious way."
-
-"Tell me, Maria, in what particular way?"
-
-"Well, as if you were afraid somebody was going to pick your pocket,
-or as if you fancied you had a shadow for a companion. My opinion is
-that you have not got over that unfortunate visit we paid to the house
-in Lamb's Terrace."
-
-"Have you got over it?"
-
-"No, and never shall. I can't keep my thoughts away from the place,
-and I often feel as if something was dragging me to the house again,
-though a second visit would be the death of me."
-
-"Never be tempted, Maria; don't go near the neighborhood. We both need
-change of scene to clear the cobwebs away. When I come back from
-Brighton you shall run off to the seaside for a day or two; you can
-easily get a lady friend to keep you company, especially if I pay all
-the expenses."
-
-"Why should we not go together?"
-
-"Because in each other's society we should brood over the frightful
-adventure we had. Change of company, Maria, as well as change of
-scene; that is what will do us good."
-
-This conversation proved that my wife had not succeeded in forgetting
-the adventure, and had only refrained from speaking of it out of
-consideration for me. Her confession that she sometimes felt as if she
-was being dragged to the house against her will rather alarmed me, and
-I determined to adopt some means to send her from London for longer
-than a day or two. It would be beneficial to her, and would leave me
-free to act.
-
-Before the hour arrived upon which Bob and I were to set out upon our
-pretended holiday, I paid a second visit to the inquiry agent, Mr.
-Dickson, and commissioned him to ascertain for me:
-
-First. The name of the servant girl who was sent to Switzerland by Mr.
-Nisbet; where her family lived; when she returned from the Continent.
-
-Second. The names and residences of the other servants in Mr. Nisbet's
-employ who had discharged themselves.
-
-Third. Where Miss Beatrice Lockyer was buried.
-
-Fourth. Any particulars he could gather relating to the death of Miss
-Beatrice's mother.
-
-Fifth. Where Mr. Nisbet was living at the present time.
-
-Mr. Dickson informed me that these inquiries could scarcely be
-answered in less than a couple of weeks, and I left them in his hands,
-requesting him to use expedition.
-
-Contrary to my expectation I received a letter from him on Saturday
-morning, in which he informed me that he was enabled to give me
-imperfect answers to three of my questions.
-
-First. The name of the servant girl who was sent to Switzerland was
-Molly Brand. She had no parents, and the people she lived with when
-she entered Mr. Nisbet's service had emigrated. At that time she had a
-little sister dependent upon her, a child of some six years of age.
-This child had presumably been taken by Molly's friends to Australia,
-but upon this point, and upon the point of the child's age, he could
-not speak with any certainty. He had not yet succeeded in obtaining
-any traces of Molly from the time of her departure from London, and
-could not therefore say whether she had returned or where she was.
-
-Second. From what he could gather Mr. Nisbet had had no other servants
-in his employ.
-
-Third. The young lady was not buried. She was cremated at Woking.
-
-To these scanty particulars was attached a memorandum to the effect
-that he was cramped by a limit I had mentioned as to the amount of the
-expenses to be incurred in his investigation. It was a measure of
-prudence I had adopted, for I was not inclined to give him quite a
-free hand, but it seemed to be fated that my desires to reach the
-heart of the mystery should be continually baffled by meeting with
-closed doors, and I now determined to be more liberal in my
-instructions. I wrote to Mr. Dickson to this effect, inwardly
-marveling as I wrote the letter that, in a matter in which I did not
-appear to be in any way personally interested, I should be impelled
-into a reckless course of expenditure. But, casting my eyes downward,
-I saw the phantom cat at my feet, and I felt that I should not be
-released from this frightful companion until my task was completed.
-
-"Rest content," I said to the specter; "I will pursue it to the end."
-
-There was no sign, no movement from it. Waiting for the development of
-events, it was ever on the watch. If, like Poe's raven, it had uttered
-but a word, it would have been a relief to me, for nothing could
-intensify the terror of the dread silence it preserved. There was
-within me a conviction that a moment would arrive when it would take
-some action toward the unraveling of the mystery, but in what shape
-this action would display itself was to me unfathomable.
-
-At one o'clock Bob called for me, and I bade Maria good-by.
-
-"Now, mind you enjoy yourselves," she said; "and take good care of
-him, Mr. Millet."
-
-"I will do that," said Bob, rather guiltily.
-
-He was not an adept in deception, but my wife had no suspicion that we
-were deceiving her, and we took our departure in peace, each of us
-provided with a Gladstone bag, Bob's being the bulkier of the two. In
-mine my wife had placed, in addition to toilet necessaries, two flat
-bottles, one containing brandy, the other port wine, and the usual
-packet of sandwiches which the middle-class feminine mind deems a
-positive essential for a railway journey. Bob had also provided
-himself with food and liquids, and thus furnished we started upon our
-expedition.
-
-On our road we discussed the information I had received from Mr.
-Dickson, each item of which strengthened our suspicion of foul play.
-The strongest feature in confirmation of this suspicion was the
-cremation of the body of the unfortunate young lady. We would not for
-one moment admit that Mr. Nisbet was an enthusiast on the subject of
-cremation, but accepted the course he had adopted as damning evidence
-against him. I mention it to show to what lengths the prejudiced mind
-will go in arriving at a conclusion upon an open matter; but, apart
-from this consideration, we certainly had ample reason for the strong
-feelings we entertained. A hasty inquest held by incompetent persons,
-the acceptance of conclusive statements from the party most interested
-in the young lady's death, the falsehoods of which he already stood
-convicted, and other falsehoods which I had little doubt would be in a
-short time discovered, pointed one and all to a miscarriage of
-justice. Bob no longer disputed the conclusions at which I arrived,
-but accepted them with gloomy avidity.
-
-Needless to say that we did not set out upon our expedition without
-the society of my spectral familiar, and that we were both in a state
-of nervous excitement as to what would occur. Bob had never been in
-the neighborhood of Lamb's Terrace, and its desolate appearance
-surprised him. Dismal and forlorn as was its aspect on the occasion of
-my first introduction to the region, it was still more so now. This
-sharpened accentuation of its desolate condition was probably caused
-by the knowledge I had since gained, and by the vagaries of our
-beautiful London climate. When we stated from home there was the
-promise of a tolerably fine day, but during the last half hour the sky
-had become overcast and dreary mists were gathering.
-
-"Cheerful, isn't it, Bob?" I said.
-
-"Do you mean to tell me," was his response, "that having come so far
-on your first visit, your wife did not immediately abandon the idea of
-taking a house in such a locality?"
-
-"Whatever may have been in her mind," I replied, "she certainly
-insisted upon finding the house and going over it. It was offered to
-us at half the value of a house of such dimensions, and did you ever
-know a woman sufficiently strong minded to resist a bargain? I do not
-believe she would have had the courage to complete the arrangement,
-but she went quite far enough."
-
-We turned down the narrow lane and skirted the dilapidated wall till
-we arrived at our destination. As we walked through the front garden
-entrance, choked up with its weeds and rank grass, and ascended the
-flight of steps, I asked Bob how he felt.
-
-"It is impossible not to feel depressed," he answered; "but you will
-not find me fail you, Ned. We will go through what we have
-undertaken."
-
-"Well said. We shall get along all right till Monday morning. There
-was a little furniture in one or two of the rooms, and I do not
-suppose it has been removed. When my wife was here we only examined
-the front room on the second floor; the rooms I have not seen may be
-habitable. I expect we shall have to go out and buy some necessaries.
-What have you got in your bag?"
-
-"You shall see presently."
-
-The cat entered the house with us, but it did not remain with us in
-the lobby. I saw it pass down to the basement, and it gave no sign of
-expectation that I should accompany it.
-
-"That's a comfort," I remarked.
-
-I had to explain my meaning to Bob, and he seemed to regard the
-departure as a significant commencement of our enterprise. We did not
-follow our spectral companion to the basement, but proceeded upstairs
-to the apartments I had already seen. In all, with the exception of
-the front room on the second floor, in which I had rang the bell which
-summoned the apparitions, there was some furniture left, and Bob
-expressed his astonishment that it had not been removed or sold by the
-last tenant.
-
-"It would have been a simple matter," he said, "to call in a broker,
-who would very soon have cleared the house of every stick in it."
-
-"He must have had his reasons," I observed. "Perhaps his coming into
-possession of a large fortune made him careless of these trifles."
-
-"They are not exactly trifles," said Bob, who was better able than I
-to speak on the subject. "A broker would give at least fifty pounds
-for what is on this floor. The wonder is that the place has not been
-robbed."
-
-We had not yet reached the second floor, and we now ascended to the
-room in which my wife and I had met with our appalling experience.
-Before entering it we examined the back rooms, and in one, a bedroom,
-we found two beds, which we determined to occupy for the night. Bob,
-having lived a bachelor life for many years, now showed his handiness.
-He examined the stove, to see that the register was up, and then he
-opened his Gladstone bag, the contents of which surprised me. He
-produced first a bundle of wood, then a remarkable case which
-contained within its exceedingly limited space a kettle with a folding
-handle, a gridiron, two tin pannikins, knives, forks, and spoons, and
-a spirit lamp, fitting in each other.
-
-"Bravo, Bob," I said; "living alone has taught you something."
-
-He smiled, and proceeded to further surprise me, fishing out a loaf of
-bread, tea, sugar, a tin of condensed milk, sausages, salt, pepper, a
-revolver, a pack of cards, and a Bible--a motley collection of
-articles.
-
-"A bachelor's _multum in parvo_," he said, adding, as he touched the
-revolver, "wouldn't be bad for the bush. We are short of two things,
-coal and water. But look here--we are in luck. A scuttle nearly full.
-There will be no water in the house fit to drink. We shall have to go
-and market, but there will not be so much to get in as I expected."
-
-With the manner of a man accustomed to attend to his wants he knelt
-down and burned some paper and wood in the grate, and the draught
-being all right, laid the fire, but did not set light to it. Rising,
-he expressed a wish to see the front room.
-
-It was, as before, quite bare and empty, and Bob said it looked as if
-it had not been furnished. The bell ropes were there, one broken, the
-other in a workable condition. I laid my hand on the unbroken cord,
-and cast an inquiring glance at Bob.
-
-"Yes," he said, "pull it."
-
-He threw the door wide open, and stood with his back to it, to prevent
-its closing. He held his revolver in his hand, his finger on the
-trigger. I gave the rope a smart tug, and, as on the previous eventful
-occasion, it was followed by the jangle of a host of discordant bells.
-The sounds died away in a low wail, and we waited in silent
-apprehension. But this time there was no response to the call; it was
-answered only by a dead silence. The feeling of relief I experienced
-was shared by Bob, though, curiously enough, there was an expression
-of disappointment in his face.
-
-"Of course it is better as it is," he said, "but I expected something
-very different. Where is your apparition, Ned?"
-
-"I cannot tell you. Thank Heaven, it is not in sight!"
-
-"Perhaps this is an end of the matter."
-
-"You are wrong, Bob; there is more to come before we finally leave the
-house."
-
-"We will wait for it, then," he said, and I saw that he was beginning
-again to believe that I had been under the spell of a delusion. "And
-now, as we have determined to remain here two nights, we had best go
-and get in the things we want to make us comfortable. I will empty my
-bag to carry back what we purchase, and if what we leave behind us is
-carried away we shall know that human, and not supernatural, agency is
-at work. Come along, old fellow."
-
-We left the house and no spectral apparition accompanied us. Bob's
-spirits rose, and I confess that I myself was somewhat shaken by the
-desertion of my familiar.
-
-We had to go some distance before arriving at a line of shops, and not
-wishing to attract attention I purposely selected those which lay
-apart from the principal thoroughfares. Our principal difficulty was
-water, and this we carried back with us in a zinc bucket I purchased.
-The shopkeeper stared at us when I asked him to fill it, but he did
-not refuse, and, furnished with all we required, we returned to Lamb's
-Terrace, and ascended to the room we intended to occupy for the night.
-By this time it was dark, and we lit the fire and saw to the beds.
-Then we prepared a meal, and were fairly jolly over it. Every few
-minutes one of us went into the passage and listened, but we were not
-disturbed by any sounds from below or above. It had been my intention
-to search the various rooms for some chance clew relating to the last
-tenant, but it was too late and dark to carry it out; I therefore
-postponed it till the morning. Bob proposed a game of cards, and we
-sat down to cribbage, which we played till ten o'clock. Under such
-circumstances it was rather a lugubrious amusement, but it was better
-than doing nothing. After the game we drank hot brandy and water out
-of the pannikins, and prepared for bed. The lock of the door was in
-workable order, and for a wonder the key was there. We turned it,
-undressed, put out the light, and wished each other goodnight.
-
-"If your good wife had the slightest suspicion of our proceedings,"
-said Bob drowsily, "she would never forgive me. I have an odd Robinson
-Crusoe-ish feeling upon me, as though the civilized world were
-thousands of miles away."
-
-I answered him briefly, and soon heard him breathing deeply. For my
-part I could not get to sleep so easily. For a long time I lay awake,
-closing my eyes only to open them and gaze upon the monstrous, uncouth
-shadows which the dying fire threw upon the walls and ceiling. At
-length, however, I closed my eyes and did not open them again till, as
-I judged from the circumstance of the fire being quite out, some hours
-had passed. It was not a natural awakening; I was aroused by the sound
-of something moving in the lower part of the house.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XVII.
-
- BARBARA.
-
-
-I sat up in bed, and quickly lit a candle. Bob was sleeping soundly,
-and I saw nothing in the room to alarm me; I was quite prepared to
-greet once more the apparition of my faithful companion, but as the
-cat was not in sight I inferred that it was contented with its
-quarters in the basement. On a small table by Bob's side lay his
-revolver, ready to his hand, and even in this moment of apprehension
-I smiled at the idea of my friend--the most humane man in the
-world--possessing so murderous an instrument. I was thankful, however,
-that he had brought it; powerless as it would be against spectral foes
-it inspired me with confidence. I slid from my bed, seized the pistol,
-stepped to the door and listened. My movements aroused Bob, as I
-intended they should, and he jumped up.
-
-"Who's there?" he cried, clapping his hand on the table. "What's the
-matter?"
-
-"Hush," I said, "make no noise. Your pistol's all right; I've got it.
-Slip on your clothes, and come and keep watch while I get into mine.
-There's someone--or something--downstairs."
-
-He was soon ready and he took his station by the door while I dressed
-myself.
-
-"I don't hear anything," he said, when I joined him.
-
-"All is quiet just now, Bob, but I was not mistaken. I am positive I
-heard it."
-
-"What was it like?"
-
-"Like somebody moving softly about, wishing not to be heard."
-
-"Rats or mice, perhaps. I shouldn't wonder if the lower part of the
-house is full of them."
-
-I caught his arm. "Listen, Bob."
-
-With our ears close to the door, we both caught the sound of a
-stealthy movement below.
-
-"There it is," he whispered, and I felt his arm tremble in my grasp. A
-moment afterward he said, "We are trapped."
-
-"Don't lose your nerve," I responded, in as cheerful a tone as I could
-command; "we must see it through, now we are here. I am sorry I
-brought you, Bob; the next time I come, I will come alone."
-
-"Indeed you shall not, Ned," he replied, "and I am ashamed of my
-weakness. I was prepared for something of the sort, and here am I
-showing the white feather. I am all right now, old fellow."
-
-"Bravo! Take your pistol; I brought a weapon with me."
-
-It was a thick flat strip of iron, tapered at one end, which I used at
-home to open cases, and which, unknown to my wife, I had secreted
-about me. Bob nodded as I produced it.
-
-"A formidable weapon," he said, "but useless against apparitions; we
-may have more formidable foes to contend with, however, and it is as
-well to be provided. It would be foolhardy to leave the room. We
-should have to carry a candle, and it might be dashed from our hands;
-the darkness would be horrible. We are safer where we are."
-
-"We will not go out yet, Bob. The sound has ceased. Take a nip of
-brandy, and give me one."
-
-This dialogue was carried on at intervals. We paused in the middle of
-sentences, and finished them as though it was our customary method of
-pursuing a conversation. In the fever of our senses we lost sight of
-the natural order of things, and the shadows created by the flickering
-light appeared to be in harmony with the position in which we were
-placed. The silence--as dread in its mysterious possibilities as
-threatening sounds would have been--continuing, Bob rekindled the
-fire, and we remained quiescent for an hour and more. Bob looked at
-his watch.
-
-"It is past two, Ned."
-
-"Yes. I have been thinking over what is best to be done."
-
-"Have you decided?"
-
-"I have, but I hardly like to propose it to you."
-
-"I am ready for anything," he said, divining my wish. "Every moment
-that we are shut up here grows more oppressive."
-
-"My feeling. We are fairly strong men, and are well armed. Have you
-the courage to explore the house with me?"
-
-He straightened himself and replied, "Let us set about it at once."
-
-We adopted every reasonable precaution. We each carried a candle, and
-held pistol and iron bar in our right hands, firmly resolved to use
-them promptly in case we were attacked. Throwing open the door we
-stepped into the passage.
-
-So far as we could judge from the evidence of our senses, there was
-not a movement in the house which did not proceed from ourselves.
-Slowly and cautiously I led the way downstairs, and when we reached
-the hall I unlocked the street door and left it ajar, thus affording a
-readier means of escape should the need for flight present itself. In
-our progress we entered and examined every room on the three floors,
-and saw no spiritual or material foe. Then we descended to the
-basement.
-
-As I touched the handle of the kitchen door I fancied I heard a faint
-sound, and looking at Bob I gathered from the expression on his face
-that he also was impressed by a similar fancy.
-
-"What do you think it is?" I asked in a whisper.
-
-"It sounds like soft breathing," he replied, in a voice as low as my
-own.
-
-We paused a while, and then, receiving from Bob a silent approval, I
-gently pushed the door and we entered. We had not been beguiled by our
-fancies. In the extreme corner of the kitchen we observed a huddled
-heap of clothes and coverings, from beneath which issued the low
-breathing of a person asleep. Treading very softly we drew near to the
-spot, and to our astonishment beheld--no form of ruffian or
-bloodthirsty marauder, but the form of a child, deep in slumber.
-
-It was a girl whose age appeared to be eleven or twelve. She was
-undressed, and was lying upon some strips of old carpet; other strips
-of old carpet and the clothes she had taken off comprised her bed
-coverings. Her face was not clean, but there dwelt upon it, even in
-her sleep, a pathetic expression of want and suffering. There was a
-loneliness and helplessness in the figure of this young child
-slumbering unprotected in such a place which stirred me to pity. Her
-tangled hair lay loose across her face, and her eyelids were swollen,
-as if she had been weeping before the angel of sleep brought ease and
-oblivion to her troubled heart; one little naked arm had released
-itself from its wrappings, and lay exposed; it was thin, and sharp,
-and pointed, and the tale of woe it told accentuated the pity I felt
-for the child.
-
-Bob put his pistol in his pocket, and I buttoned my coat over my
-weapon.
-
-"Nothing to scare us here," he said.
-
-"No, indeed," I replied. "See, Bob--there are three boxes of matches
-which look as if they have been carried in her little hands for hours.
-She has been trying to sell them, perhaps, to get a bit of supper.
-Poor soul! What brings her to this dismal, haunted hole?"
-
-"No other roof to cover her," suggested Bob.
-
-So engrossed had I been in the contemplation of the pathetic figure
-that I had not noticed another figure crouching close to it. It was
-the apparition of the skeleton cat, seemingly keeping guard over the
-child. The moment my eyes fell upon it Bob knew from my startled
-movement what it was I beheld.
-
-"It is there, Ned," he said quietly.
-
-"Yes, it is there, and this child has some connection with the mystery
-which hangs over this house."
-
-He did not dispute with me. The hour, the scene, and all that had
-passed, were favorable to my opinion, and he accepted it without
-question or remonstrance. The presence of the apparition, although it
-was not evident to his senses, disturbed him more than it disturbed
-me. I was by this time accustomed to it, and the feeling of horror
-with which it had at first inspired me was now replaced by a feeling
-of agitated curiosity as to the issue of the mission upon which I was
-convinced we were both engaged. There was not the slightest doubt in
-my mind that its presence by the side of the sleeping child, in
-conjunction with our discovery of the child herself, was an indication
-that I had advanced another step toward the unraveling of the mystery.
-
-The latter part of our conversation had been carried on in our natural
-voices, our desire being to arouse the child from her slumbers. As,
-however, she still slept on, I knelt by her side and laid my hand upon
-her shoulder. Even then she did not awake, and it was not till I had
-shaken her--which I need scarcely say I did with a gentle hand--that
-she opened her eyes. With a terrified scream she started up, and then
-she plunged down again, and hiding her face in her clothes, began to
-shake and sob.
-
-"We are not going to hurt you, my child," I said. "We are your
-friends. You have nothing to fear from us."
-
-"I aint got no friends," she sobbed, "and I aint done no 'arm. Oh,
-please, please, let me go away!"
-
-"Where to?" I asked.
-
-"I don't know, I don't know," she sobbed. "Please don't do nothink to
-me, and let me go away."
-
-"You shall go away if you like," I said, to soothe her, "but you must
-dress yourself first, you know."
-
-"I will this minute, sir, if you'll only let me alone. Oh, my! oh, my!
-What shall I do, what shall I do?"
-
-"You shall be let alone--you shall do exactly what you want to do.
-Only believe, my child, that we are really your friends and that we
-want to help you. You went to bed hungry, did you not?"
-
-"Yes, I did, sir. I 'ad three boxes of matches, and I couldn't sell
-'em, though I tried ever so. I've been all day at it, and nobody'd buy
-a box or give me a ha'penny."
-
-"Been all day at it," I said, the tears starting to my eyes at the
-infinite pathos in the girl's voice; "you have been hungry all day?"
-
-"Yes, sir, I 'ave," she answered plaintively. "I'm used to it. A boy
-give me a bit of bread this morning, and nothink else 'as passed my
-mouth all the blessed day."
-
-"He was a good boy to be so kind to you." I turned to Bob. "Would you
-mind going upstairs alone, Bob, and bringing down some bread and
-butter and sausage. Then the little girl will believe that we wish to
-be as good to her as the boy was this morning."
-
-Bob did not hesitate. All his fears had vanished, and he hastened from
-the kitchen, and soon returned with food and a cup of cold tea.
-Meanwhile I continued to speak to the child in my kindest tones, and
-she mustered courage to peep at me two or three times, and each time,
-I was pleased to observe, with renewed confidence. Once she asked why
-I had asked the gentleman if he wouldn't mind going upstairs alone,
-and I replied that my friend was rather timid because the house was so
-lonely.
-
-"It is, sir," she said upon this; "it's awful!"
-
-"In what way, my dear?" I inquired, but she closed her lips, firmly,
-and did not answer. I did not urge her, deeming it prudent not to
-press her until her confidence in us was completely won.
-
-"Now, my dear," I said upon Bob's return, "sit up and eat this. The
-tea is cold, but we will give you a cup of hot tea presently if you
-care to have it. And see--I will buy your matches of you. Here is
-sixpence for them."
-
-Her eyes, with wonder in them, were raised to mine, and her hot
-fingers closed over the coin, as she tremblingly sat up in her
-wretched bed, and wiped her tears away with her naked arm.
-
-"Thank yer, sir," she murmured, and she began to eat and drink. Never
-in my life have I beheld a human being devour food so eagerly and
-ravenously, and she made no pause till she had drained the cup and
-disposed of every crumb.
-
-"Do you feel better?" I asked, with a smiling nod at her.
-
-"Ever so much, sir; thank yer kindly," she said humbly and gratefully.
-"I'm good for another day."
-
-"And for many more after that," I said. "I dare say we shall be able
-to do something for you if you are a good girl."
-
-"I aint bad, sir," she said, with an imploring look; "don't believe
-that I am. I never forgit what Molly sed----" she stopped with a
-sudden gasp. "You aint come from 'er, 'ave yer, sir?"
-
-"From Molly, my dear? No, we have not come from her. Who is Molly?"
-
-"My sister, sir," she replied with a sigh; "the only one, I aint got
-no other brothers or sisters."
-
-"You have a mother and father, my dear?"
-
-"No, sir, there was only Molly and me."
-
-"Some relatives, surely?"
-
-"No, sir, not as I knows on."
-
-"Have you no home, my dear?"
-
-"No, sir, 'xcept this, unless you turn me out of it."
-
-"If we do turn you out of it, my child, it will be to put you in a
-better one."
-
-"Don't, sir; oh, please don't!" she cried.
-
-"Not put you in a more comfortable home, my dear?" I asked in
-surprise.
-
-"I don't want a more comfortable one, sir, till Molly comes back. If
-she don't find me 'ere, where's she to look for me, and 'ow am I to
-know? I 'ope you won't turn me away; I do 'ope it, sir!"
-
-"There, there, my dear," I said, "you need not distress yourself.
-Depend upon it we will do nothing that you do not wish done, and that
-is not for your good. We will see about it all presently. Where is
-your sister?"
-
-"That's wot I want to know, sir; that's wot I want to find out. Oh,
-wot wouldn't I give if I knew where Molly was!"
-
-There was pregnant matter here for me to think about. The child did
-not want to find another home till her sister came back. Came back
-where? To this Heaven-forsaken house. It was here that Molly would
-come to look for the poor little waif. The conclusion was that Molly
-knew something of the house, was familiar with it, else she would not
-expect to find her young sister in it. Was it a reasonable conclusion
-that she knew something of the last tenant, and could give me some
-information concerning him? I did not pursue the subject with the
-little girl in this direction, deeming it best to await a more
-advantageous opportunity for learning what I desired to know.
-
-"What was it Molly said to you that you will never forget?" I asked.
-
-"She said, Molly did, 'Look 'ere, Barbara, mind you're good, and mind
-you allus keep good. If you don't you shan't be no sister of mine.'
-That's wot I won't forgit as long as ever I live. But O Molly, Molly,
-why don't you come back? Why don't you come back!"
-
-The imploring earnestness of this appeal powerfully affected me, and I
-gazed pitifully at poor Barbara, from whose eyes the tears were
-streaming. That when she put her hands up to her eyes, she should keep
-her little fist tightly clenched, touched me to the heart; the little
-silver piece was her shield against hunger, for a few hours at least,
-and she clung to it instinctively through all her grief. I waited till
-she was calmer before I said:
-
-"Dress yourself quickly, Barbara, and come upstairs with us. There's a
-nice fire there, and I want to talk to you about Molly. We will try
-and find her for you, and you shall not be hungry again. Will you
-trust me?"
-
-"Yes, sir, I will; no one could speak kinder, and you're not the sort
-of gentleman to take me in. Perhaps you won't mind telling me 'ow long
-you've been 'ere. I didn't know there was anybody in the house but
-me."
-
-"We came only a few hours ago, Barbara," I answered, "and I have been
-here but once before."
-
-"Wot did you come the first time for, sir?"
-
-"The house is to let, and I thought of taking it."
-
-"To live in, sir?"
-
-"Yes, to live in."
-
-"But you're never going to, sir?"
-
-"No, I am not going to."
-
-"I should say yer wouldn't," she muttered. "Who would, I'd like to
-know? What did you come for this time, sir?"
-
-"I will tell you more when you're dressed," I said. "It will be warmer
-and nicer upstairs. Be as quick as you can."
-
-Bob and I went out of the kitchen while Barbara put on her ragged
-garments, in which she looked a truly miserable object; Bob patted her
-cheek, and I took her hand and led her upstairs, the cat following at
-our heels. I noticed that she kept her eyes closed most of the time,
-and that when she lifted her lids she did so timorously and
-apprehensively, but I refrained at present from asking her the reason
-of this. It was only when we were in the room which we had selected
-for our sleeping apartment that she opened her eyes and kept them
-open.
-
-"Now, Barbara," I said, putting a chair by the fireside for her, "sit
-down there, and warm yourself; then we will talk."
-
-She sat down obediently, and spread out her thin hands to the
-comforting flame, and with a kind of wonder watched Bob as he put the
-kettle on and prepared to make the tea. He poured out a cup, and put
-in milk and sugar liberally, and gave it to her. She thanked him and
-drank it, saying when the cup was empty, "That's good, sir."
-
-"Are you ready to talk, Barbara?" I asked.
-
-"Yes, if you please, sir."
-
-"I am going to ask you a good many questions, and perhaps they'll lead
-to good."
-
-"I'll answer all I can, sir."
-
-"So you sleep in this house regularly, Barbara?"
-
-"Yes, sir; I aint got no other place. Where else'd I go to, I'd like
-to know?"
-
-"How long have you lived here?"
-
-"I can't tell you that, sir; it must be years and years."
-
-"Since the house has been untenanted, perhaps?"
-
-"Unwhat, sir?"
-
-"I mean, Barbara, since it has been empty?"
-
-"I dessay, sir. I know one thing--it was three weeks to a day after
-Molly went away that I first come 'ere, and I've 'ardly missed a night
-all the time. There was twice I couldn't git in for the snow, and I
-was 'most perished. When I did git in I was that numbed and froze that
-I could 'ardly move, but I knew I was done for if I didn't stir my
-pegs, so I put some sticks on the 'earthstone and set fire to 'em, and
-little by little I got thawed. It was touch and go with me then, sir,
-but I managed to dodge 'em that time. I don't know as I'd 'ave cared
-much one way or the other if it 'adn't been for Molly. Once there wos
-a gal she knew that throwed 'erself in the water, and she sed to me,
-sed Molly, 'It wos a wicked thing to do, Barbara,' she sed. 'There's
-'eaven,' sed Molly, 'and there's 'ell,' she sed. 'If we do good things
-we go to 'eaven, if we do wicked things we go to the other place.'
-It's the way Molly used to talk to me that's kept me up over and over
-agin."
-
-I had made up my mind not to interrupt Barbara even when she wandered
-from the subject in which I was most interested. By doing so I might
-lose valuable suggestions to be gathered from her chance words, and I
-naturally wished to hear everything it was in her power to impart.
-Impatient as I was to learn more of Molly--who evidently was imbued
-with a strong sense of duty, and whose story, I felt convinced, had a
-direct connection with the mystery I was endeavoring to solve--I
-recognized the advantage of leading gradually up to it. It was by far
-the wisest plan to allow her to ramble on in her own way, and not to
-startle her by abrupt questions.
-
-"Why did you not light the fire in the stove, Barbara?"
-
-"I wosn't sech a mug as that, sir," she replied with a faint dash of
-humor. "When smoke comes out of the chimney of a empty 'ouse the
-peeler sez, 'Ho, ho!' and in he pops to find out who's done it. Wot'd
-become of me then, I'd like to know? They'd 'ave made precious short
-work of me."
-
-"And you have not lit a fire in a stove all the time you have been
-here."
-
-"Never once, sir."
-
-"How did you manage for coals, Barbara?"
-
-"Well, sir, when I first come, there was a lot of coal in the cellar,
-and I used it all up. It lasted ever so long, but there was a end to
-it. Then I begun on the furniture and odd bits of sticks I found
-inside the house and out. Sometimes when it was dark and rainy I
-foller the coal wagons, and pick up wot drops from the sacks. Then
-there's dead branches; I've got 'arf a cupboardful downstairs."
-
-"What time did you come"--I hesitated at the word--"home to-night?"
-
-"Past one, I think, sir. I kep' out late trying to sell my matches,
-but I 'ad to give it up for a bad job."
-
-"It was you we heard moving about?"
-
-"Did I make a noise, sir? I don't, 'ardly ever, but I s'ppose I wos
-desp'rate, being so 'ungry, and thinking wot I should do to-morrer for
-grub. I wosn't long gitting my clothes off, cos I wanted to git to
-sleep quick and forgit everythink and everybody--everybody but Molly.
-I'm 'appy when I'm asleep, sir."
-
-"Poor child! Do you mean to tell me, Barbara, that all these years you
-have never once been found out, that all these years you have come and
-gone from the house without being seen."
-
-"Yes, sir, as fur as I know. If I aint clever in nothink else I've
-been clever in that. Oh, but the way I've had to dodge, and the tricks
-I've played! They'd fill a book if they wos took down. Allus coming
-'ome late at night, looking about me, and turning another way if
-anybody wos near; allus very careful when I went out agin, peeping
-round corners, and 'iding quick if I 'eerd a step. Eyes, sir! I can
-see a mile off. Ears, sir! I could 'ear a blade o' grass whisper."
-
-"You have had a hard life, my dear," I said, taking her hand. Despite
-her ragged clothes she looked more comfortable now. There was no wolf
-tearing at her vitals for food. This, and the warmth of the fire, the
-excitement of the conversation, the consciousness that we were her
-friends, and the novelty of such an association in a house in which
-she had not heard the voice of a human being during all the years she
-had slept and starved in it, had caused her cheeks to glow and her
-eyes to sparkle.
-
-"Yes, sir, there's no denying it's 'ard, but it'll be all right when I
-see Molly agin."
-
-"You expected to do so long before now?"
-
-"Oh, yes, sir, ever so long before. She can't 'ave forgot me, she
-can't 'ave forgot me! You don't think that, do yer, sir?"
-
-"I am sure she has not, my dear. She was always a good sister to you,
-from what you have told me, and always a good girl."
-
-"The best in all the wide world, sir. There's nobody like 'er, I don't
-care where you look. 'I'm more than yer sister Molly,' she sed, 'I'm
-yer mother, and I'll never, never turn from yer as long as I live.'"
-
-"Tell me, Barbara. What was your sister?"
-
-"A servant gal, sir. I'd like to be one."
-
-"Was she in a situation in London?"
-
-"In course she wos, sir."
-
-"Where?"
-
-"In this 'ouse, sir. That's why I'm 'ere now."
-
-And that, thought I, looking down at the cat, is why _I_ am here now.
-I glanced at Bob; the revelation that poor Barbara's sister was in
-domestic service with the last tenant had brought a flush of
-expectation into his face.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XVIII.
-
- MOLLY.
-
-
-I continued the conversation.
-
-"That must be a long time ago, Barbara?"
-
-"Oh, yes, sir; ever so long ago."
-
-"What was the name of her master?"
-
-"I don't remember, sir."
-
-"If you heard it, would you remember it?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"Was it Mr. Nesbit?"
-
-"That's the name, sir. 'E 'ad a daughter, sech a nice young lady,
-Molly told me."
-
-"Miss Beatrice Nesbit?"
-
-"That's 'er, sir. Molly was so fond of 'er, and she liked Molly, too."
-
-"Do you know, Barbara, what became of Miss Beatrice?"
-
-"No, sir; do you?"
-
-I evaded the question. "Can you read?" I asked.
-
-"Large letters, when they're wrote plain, sir."
-
-"You can't read newspapers?"
-
-"No, sir."
-
-"When Molly went away--we will speak about that presently--did nobody
-tell you that something had happened in this house?"
-
-"No, sir; I didn't speak about Molly or the 'ouse to nobody, and
-nobody spoke to me. Wot did 'appen, sir?"
-
-"Never mind just now. It is for me to ask questions."
-
-"I beg yer pardon, sir."
-
-"No need, Barbara. Where and how did you live, my dear, while Molly
-was in service here?"
-
-"It's 'ard to say, sir. I lived anywhere and any'ow. If it 'adn't been
-for Molly I don't think I'd 'ave lived at all. She used to say, used
-Molly, 'One day we'll live together, Barbara. When yer grows up,
-per'aps Miss Beatrice 'll give yer a place with 'er. Then we shall be
-in the same 'ouse, and we'll be as 'appy as the day's long.' The day
-aint come yet, sir."
-
-"When Molly worked here used you to come and see her?"
-
-"On the sly, sir. Mr. Nesbit, Molly sed, wouldn't allow no followers,
-and nobody else come to the 'ouse that didn't 'ave no business there,
-so I 'ad to come unbeknown to 'im. One night I wos in the kitching
-when Molly 'eard 'im coming down. She 'id me quick be'ind the clothes
-'orse, as 'ad some things drying. It was lucky for me and Molly that
-he didn't ketch sight of me, or he'd 'ave bundled us both out. My
-'eart wos in my mouth all the time."
-
-"You saw Mr. Nesbit?"
-
-"Yes, sir; I peeped through the things and sor 'im."
-
-"A nice looking gentleman, Barbara?"
-
-"Quite the other, sir; but 'e spoke smooth to Molly."
-
-"Did you ever see Miss Beatrice?"
-
-"Once, sir, the same way, and I think she knew I wos 'iding, but she
-never sed nothink. She was the nicest looking young lady I ever sor."
-
-"Tell me about Molly going away."
-
-"She sed she was going into the country with 'er master and Miss
-Beatrice, and that she wouldn't be away long. She give me some money,
-and promised to send me some more every week, but I aint 'eerd nothink
-of 'er from that day to this. There wos Mrs. Simpson, sir; she let me
-sleep in a corner of 'er room. She wos allus 'ard up, Mrs. Simpson
-wos, and two weeks after Molly wos gone she got into trouble, and went
-away, I don't know where to, and I'd no place to put my 'ead in. I
-walked about the streets and slep' in the park, and then I thought I'd
-come 'ere and wait for Molly. There wos nothink else for it, 'cause
-Mrs. Simpson 'ad cut 'er lucky, and Molly wouldn't know where else to
-look for me. It wos orfle lonesome 'ere at fust, and I wos frightened
-out of my life almost; but I got used to it after a bit, and it _wos_
-a slice of luck, wosn't it, sir, that I found a place to sleep in
-without being arsked to pay no rent? Then there wos the coal cellar
-pritty well full of coals, and lots of wood to make a fire with.
-Daytime I'd go out selling matches, begging, doing anythink to make a
-honest penny, and it wosn't easy to do that, I can tell yer. But 'ere
-I am, no better off and no wus since I begun, and never found out till
-to-night."
-
-"You must have managed very cleverly, Barbara."
-
-"Oh, they don't make 'em much artfuller nor me," said the poor girl
-rather proudly. It was a pitiful boast from one who had suffered such
-hardships, and who, after years of struggle, presented so lamentable
-an appearance. "I aint told yer all, though," she continued eagerly.
-"I don't keep no count of the days 'xcept with bits of sticks--one
-stick, Monday, two sticks, Tuesday, three sticks, Wednesday, up to six
-sticks, Satterday, and then I know to-morrer's Sunday, and I begin all
-over again. Weeks I don't know 'ow to reckon, and that's why I can't
-tell 'ow long Molly's been away. I dessay it was three months when a
-Satterday night come--not the last by a good many--and I got 'ome as
-'ungry as 'ungry could be, and not a ha'penny to get grub with. So wot
-do I do but prowl about on the chance of finding somethink that 'll
-'elp me on. Molly used to sleep in the basement, next to the kitching,
-and there's a cupboard in the room. Wot 'yer think I found in that
-there cupboard on the top shelf, that I 'ad to stand on two chairs to
-git to? A wooden money-box, sir, that rattled as I shook it up. There
-wos letters outside wrote large by Molly, 'For Barbara.' Yer might
-'ave knocked me down with a feather when I sor it, and I did tumble
-off the chairs and 'urt myself, but I 'ad the money box in my 'and for
-all that. It wos locked, and there wos no key, but I soon prised it
-open, and there it was, 'arf full of coppers that Molly'd been saving
-up for me, else she wouldn't 'ave wrote 'For Barbara' outside. Wosn't
-that good of Molly, sir?"
-
-"Indeed it was," I replied.
-
-"I counted it out--six and tenpence, no less, sir, and I kissed the
-box, and the writing, and the money too, and I only wanted Molly
-alongside of me to make me as 'appy as the day's long. It lasted me a
-long while, that money did."
-
-"Did you ever find any more?" I asked.
-
-"No, sir, though I looked everywhere for it."
-
-"Now, Barbara, can you tell me the name of the place your sister was
-going to with Mr. Nisbet and Miss Beatrice?"
-
-"No, sir, she didn't know 'erself, she sed, but she promised to write
-to me--in large letters--directly she got there."
-
-"Where did she say she would send the letter?'
-
-"To the house that Mrs. Simpson lived in, sir."
-
-"You remained in that house two weeks after Molly went away?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"And no letter came?"
-
-"No, sir."
-
-"How can you be sure of that?"
-
-"Mrs. Simpson didn't git none for me, sir--I'm sure of that, 'cause I
-know she wouldn't deceive me. Why should she? It wouldn't 'ave done
-'er no good to keep it from me; and she wosn't one of that sort. Then,
-sir, there wos the two postmen as used to leave the letters in the
-street. I made bold to arsk both of 'em about it, 'Is there a letter
-for Barbara, wrote large, please?' I sed to them every day, and they
-sed no, there wosn't. 'You won't give it to no one else, will yer,
-please, when it comes?' I sed to them and they sed they wouldn't.
-After Mrs. Simpson wos gone I went to the street regularly, and 'ung
-about for the postmen, and arsked 'em if there wos a letter for
-Barbara, or if there'd been one, and they allus sed no, and that
-they'd keep it for me if they got 'old of it. But it never come, sir.
-I couldn't 'ave done nothink else to make sure of it, could I, sir?"
-
-"You could do nothing more, Barbara; and you were very clever in doing
-what you did. Did you understand from Molly that she was going
-abroad?"
-
-"Abroad, sir!" exclaimed Barbara, in manifest astonishment.
-
-"Out of England, I mean."
-
-"Oh, no, sir; she'd 'ave been sure to 'ave told me if she'd 'ad any
-idea of that. And she'd never 'ave done it, sir; she'd never 'ave gone
-so fur away from me!"
-
-"I don't think she would, Barbara, if she had known it. Did she tell
-you she was going alone first, and that her master and Miss Beatrice
-were to follow afterward?"
-
-"No, sir, they wos to go all together."
-
-"Are you sure of that?"
-
-"As sure as I can be, sir."
-
-"You have given me sensible answers to all my questions, my dear. I
-noticed when you came upstairs with us that you kept your eyes closed.
-I suppose you were sleepy."
-
-"It wasn't that, sir."
-
-"What was the reason?"
-
-"I was frightened, sir."
-
-"Of what?"
-
-Barbara looked around timidly, and drew closer to the fire. "There's
-shadders in this 'ere 'ouse," she said, in a low tone.
-
-"There are shadows everywhere, Barbara," I answered, as Bob and I
-exchanged glances. "Tell us what you mean."
-
-"I can't, sir; it's beyond me. I 'eerd once, permiscuous like, that
-there wos a 'ouse somewhere in these parts as wos 'aunted, and I sed
-to myself, 'It's this one.' Then I begun to feel shadders about. It's
-months and months since I've come 'igher than the kitching; I've been
-frightened to. It's allus as if somethink wos going to 'appen, and
-when you woke me up to-night I thought it 'ad."
-
-"You began to _feel_ shadows about, Barbara?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"But what have you seen?"
-
-"Nothink, sir; but I know they're 'ere."
-
-"Have you heard anything?"
-
-"Only a shaking and rattling, sir."
-
-"When there was a wind blowing, Barbara. From your description that
-must have been what you heard. Some of the window sashes are loose,
-and of course, in a high wind, they would make a noise." Barbara did
-not answer, but seemed dubious, and at the same time a little
-relieved. I glanced at the cat at my feet. "You have seen nothing
-to-night?"
-
-"No, sir."
-
-"You see no shadows now?"
-
-"No, sir."
-
-In these replies there was no such confirmation of my own strange
-experiences as I had expected, and hoped, to receive when she began to
-speak of shadows, and I ascribed her fears to the natural nervousness
-of a child living in a lonely house. They were no stronger than
-sensitive children living in comfortable homes, with parents and
-brothers and sisters around them, often suffer from. I had tired
-Barbara out with my string of questions; her eyelids were closing and
-opening; her head was nodding. In the silence that ensued she closed
-her eyes, and did not open them again. The child had fallen asleep.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XIX.
-
- IMPORTANT INFORMATION.
-
-
-Bob and I conversed in whispers; but Barbara was sleeping so soundly
-that we might have spoken in our natural voices without fear of
-awaking her.
-
-"What do you think of it, Bob?" I asked.
-
-"I don't know what to think," he replied. "I only know one thing--that
-the child has spoken the truth."
-
-"Of that there is no doubt," I said; "but what does it point to?"
-
-He conveyed his answer in two words, "Foul play!"
-
-I nodded.
-
-"My own opinion, not newly formed, for I have had it all along; but
-what we have been told gives a new turn to it. And still," I added
-fretfully, "we are in the dark. Where can we look for direction as to
-the next step to be taken?"
-
-"Has it not occurred to you," said Bob, "that it was singular that Mr.
-Nisbet should have had the body of his stepdaughter cremated instead
-of buried in the usual manner?"
-
-"He may be an enthusiast on the subject of cremation," I observed.
-"Many eminent men advocate such a disposal of the dead."
-
-"There is another answer to the question. We are both agreed that
-there has been foul play. If we are right, Mr. Nisbet, by having the
-body cremated, has effectually destroyed the most important evidence
-that could be sought against him."
-
-"The doctor testified at the inquest to the cause of the young lady's
-death."
-
-"Ah, the doctor. The inquiry agent gave you his name, I believe?"
-
-"He did. It is Cooper."
-
-"Might not something be gained from him?"
-
-I caught at the suggestion.
-
-"A good thought, Bob."
-
-"We do not know," continued my shrewd adviser, "who this Dr. Cooper
-is, whether he is a practitioner of repute, and whether any relations
-of a confidential nature existed between him and Mr. Nisbet."
-
-"You are letting in light," I said. "Go on."
-
-"So far as you have gone you are ignorant of this doctor's standing.
-If he holds a good position, if he has an extensive practice, we shall
-obtain no assistance from him. No respectable medical man would run a
-risk for the sake of a bribe. As a rule, doctors are the kindest men
-in the world; but here and there you may meet with a backslider, or
-with one who has been careless in such a matter as this, or with one
-whose necessities lay him open to temptation. That is the extent of my
-suggestion; but it appears to me to be worth following up--on the
-off-chance, as sporting men say."
-
-"It shall be followed up," I said. "To-morrow I will make inquiries
-concerning him. And now we will get a little sleep. It is not likely
-we shall be disturbed again."
-
-We lay down in our clothes, and were awake betimes. But Barbara was up
-before us; and when we rose we found the room nicely tidied up, a
-bright fire burning, the kettle singing on the hob, and the table
-ready spread for breakfast.
-
-"Bravo, Barbara," I said. "You are a handy little girl."
-
-"I thought you'd like it done, sir," she said; "and I moved about very
-quiet so as not to wake yer. I slep' like a top, and I feel ever so
-much better than I did last night. But yer did give me a start, yer
-did, when yer come upon me in the kitching."
-
-"You are not sorry for it now?"
-
-"I'm glad, sir. It was a reg'lar slice of luck."
-
-"You shall find it so. Any more shadows, Barbara?"
-
-"No, sir. I never feel 'em in the daytime; it's only at night that I'm
-afeerd."
-
-"We'll put a stop to all that, my girl. Let us get breakfast over; I
-dare say you're ready for it."
-
-"That I am, sir. I'm allus ready to tuck in."
-
-Despite the seriousness of our situation, we were quite a cheerful
-party. We had provided liberally, and we made a hearty meal, Barbara,
-to our mingled pity and admiration, proving herself a champion in that
-line. Had she been of colossal proportions instead of an attenuated
-mortal, literally all skin and bone, she could scarcely have eaten
-more. A full meal was a delightful novelty to her, and she greatly
-distinguished herself.
-
-"I wouldn't call the queen my aunt," she declared, when we rose from
-the table, which we considered a very original remark, although its
-application was not exactly clear.
-
-While she was clearing away the things and washing up, Bob and I had a
-consultation. It was decided that he should remain indoors with
-Barbara, and that I should go out to make inquiries for Dr. Cooper.
-During my absence it was his intention to thoroughly examine the house
-from top to bottom. He had the idea that he might light upon something
-that would furnish a clew; and as he had greater experience than I in
-untenanted houses, he was the better fitted for such a search.
-
-It being Sunday, the facilities for seeking information were limited;
-but in the by-streets I found a common cigar shop open here and there,
-and I laid out a great many pennies without satisfactory result.
-
-At length, however, I entered a poor little shop, which I was told had
-been established for several years. An elderly woman answered to my
-raps on the counter; and after spending sixpence with her, I led up to
-the important subject, and soon discovered that I was on the track.
-Dr. Cooper had lived in the neighborhood, not very far from her shop;
-but he had removed two or three years ago to another part of London.
-Was he a doctor in good practice? She could not say as to that. He was
-a poor man's doctor, and gave advice and medicine for a shilling. He
-had a large family, and did not pay his way. Then his business could
-not have been a flourishing one? Not at all; he had run away in debt
-to everybody--to her among the number. But by accident she found out
-his new place of business, and had served him with a county court
-summons. He had run up a bill of twenty-five shillings with her, and
-he pleaded that he was not in a position to pay it. Judgment was given
-for her, and he was ordered to pay half a crown a month, which, he
-said, was the utmost he could afford. The trouble she had to get her
-money! She had to threaten him over and over again, and at last
-succeeded in obtaining what was due to her.
-
-"A bad lot, sir," she said. "Always drinking on the sly, and as fit to
-attend to sick people as my old cat there. If I was dying, and there
-was not another doctor in London, I wouldn't call him in."
-
-Had she any objection to give me his address? Not the least objection.
-She ought to know it, as she had been there twenty times to get her
-money. It was in Theobald's Row, South Lambeth, when she saw him last;
-she did not remember the number, but there were not many houses in the
-Row, and I should have no difficulty in finding it; "if he hasn't run
-away again," she added.
-
-I left the shop, thanking the chance that had led me to it. In the
-information I had gained there was pregnant matter for thought. That a
-wealthy gentleman like Mr. Oliver Nisbet should call in such a man in
-a case of life and death was something more than strange; it was in
-the highest degree suspicious, and I felt confident that some
-information of importance to my mission was to be elicited from one
-whose necessities, as Bob had observed, might lay him open to the
-temptation of a bribe. South Lambeth was a long way from the north of
-London; but so anxious was I to lose no time, that I determined to
-proceed there at once.
-
-With this intention I walked into the wider thoroughfares to look for
-a cab, and was about to hail one when a man walking quickly toward me,
-stopped as we came close to each other, and accosted me.
-
-"Why, Mr. Emery," he said, "I heard you were in Brighton."
-
-It was Mr. Dickson, the private inquiry agent.
-
-"I am in London, as you see," I replied. "Who told you I was in
-Brighton?"
-
-"I learned it at your house two hours ago."
-
-I groaned inwardly, thinking of what was in store for me if my good
-wife discovered that I was deceiving her.
-
-"Did you see my wife?"
-
-"No, a servant answered the bell, and said you had run down to the
-seaside for the day."
-
-"I wished the business between us," I said rather severely, "to be
-kept secret. What took you to my house, Mr. Dickson?"
-
-"Oh, there was no fear of my saying anything about the commission you
-gave me. I did not even leave my name." I breathed more freely. "I
-went to see you because I had something to tell you which I thought
-you would like to know immediately."
-
-"What is it?"
-
-"Mr. Nisbet is in London," replied Mr. Dickson.
-
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XX.
-
- DR. COOPER.
-
-
-I caught my breath. There was nothing strange in the information; for
-all I knew Mr. Nisbet might have been in London for years, as ignorant
-of my existence as, until lately, I had been of his; but the
-accidental discoveries of the last few hours seemed to me to be
-pregnant with important possibilities.
-
-"I am glad you have lost no time in telling me," I said. "How did you
-discover it?"
-
-"Almost by accident. I have a partner, whose methods are of the quiet
-order, I being the active worker in our business, and it is he who
-made the discovery--almost by accident, as I have said. Nisbet is not
-a very uncommon name, but tack Oliver to it, and it becomes
-exceptional. Yesterday there arrived from the Continent a gentleman
-bearing those two names, and he is now at the Hôtel Métropole."
-
-This destroyed the hypothesis that Mr. Nisbet had been a constant
-resident in London since my introduction to the skeleton cat.
-
-"From what part of the Continent?" I inquired.
-
-"Lastly from Paris; but by way of Paris from any one of a hundred
-different places. Can you give me a personal description of the
-gentleman?"
-
-"No," I replied, "I have never seen him; but I can obtain it for you."
-
-"Do so, and let me have it as soon as possible. At present my partner
-is shadowing him, and he will not be lost sight of. You will never
-guess where I have just come from, Mr. Emery."
-
-"I shall be glad to hear."
-
-"In the course of such a business as ours," said Mr. Dickson, "we
-become acquainted with strange things, which, as a rule, we keep to
-ourselves, secrecy being an integral part of our operations. Some
-cases take hold of us, some do not, and I confess that my curiosity--a
-human weakness, you know--has been excited in this particular case.
-So, after leaving your house, the idea entered my mind of strolling to
-Lamb's Terrace and having a look at No. 79. That is where I have just
-come from."
-
-"You have not been inside the house," I said, rather startled, as I
-thought of Bob and Barbara.
-
-"How could I get inside," he retorted, "without the key? What a
-melancholy, Heaven-forsaken place! I will tell you what occurred to
-me, if you like."
-
-"Yes, tell me."
-
-"Just the spot for a crime, thought I as I wandered about; just the
-spot to carry out a deep-laid scheme in comparative safety. I have no
-wish to pry into your secrets, Mr. Emery; but one cannot help what
-comes unbidden into one's mind, and men engaged in such pursuits as
-mine are more open to suspicion than others. We see shadows behind
-locked doors, we work out theories in the dark, and sometimes we come
-upon unexpected results. However, it is no affair of mine, as my own
-personal interests are not involved in it."
-
-"If they were," I hazarded, "you would follow it up."
-
-"Undoubtedly. I could not possibly evade the duty, with three such
-links as a sudden death, a cremation instead of a burial, and a vast
-fortune on the issue."
-
-"And if you were to add," I thought, "the experiences I have gone
-through, you would be still less inclined to rest till the mystery was
-unraveled." Aloud I said, "Do not let the matter flag for a few
-pounds. I am most anxious to work it out, if there is a possibility of
-doing so."
-
-"It shall not flag. The mischief of it is, the most important clews
-are destroyed. Only through the principal agent can the crime--if one
-has been committed--be brought to light."
-
-"Or through an accomplice," I suggested.
-
-"Quite so. But where to look for this accomplice--there lies the
-difficulty. Still it is the unexpected that often happens. Well,
-good-day, Mr. Emery; I hope to hear from you to-morrow."
-
-Theobald's Row, South Lambeth, if not so desolate a neighborhood as
-Lamb's Terrace, was sufficiently depressing in its general aspect to
-cause one to resolve to give it a wide berth unless special business
-called him to the spot. There were sad, melancholy railway arches
-which might serve for a chapter in a modern "Inferno"; there were
-timber yards stacked high with discolored lumber, which appeared to be
-piled up not for purposes of trade, but to add one more melancholy
-feature to a worn-out, dilapidated locality; there were workingmen's
-lodging houses, whose flat surface of stone walls resembled prisons in
-which every vestige of brightness in life was hopelessly entombed;
-there were rows of houses as hopeless and despairing, and as
-poverty-stricken and irremediably shabby; and there was the most
-leaden atmosphere of which even London could boast. The men, women,
-and children I saw there were in keeping with their surroundings; the
-youngsters were playing listlessly and with no heart in their games;
-the men smoked pipes and haunted street corners or wandered in and out
-the beer shops and public houses; the worn-faced women conversed
-jadedly and dispiritedly; and everywhere the spirit of discontent
-proclaimed itself. Even the dogs nosing the gutters were infected with
-the prevailing gloom.
-
-In the center of Theobald's Row, which consisted of sixteen small
-houses, eight on each side, and all of a flat dead level, I came upon
-Dr. Cooper's place of business, a parlor window, with two large
-dust-covered bottles displayed therein, whose ghostly colors were
-green and red. Half a dozen ragged children were disporting themselves
-on the doorstep, and as I approached the shop a slatternly woman came
-to the door and swooped them all into the house. As she was turning to
-follow them I accosted her.
-
-"Is Dr. Cooper at home?"
-
-"What do you want of him?" she retorted.
-
-"I wish to see him on a matter of business."
-
-I had stepped into the shop, and as I looked around at the nearly
-empty shelves, dotted here and there with a few miserable fly-blown
-bottles, I thought that a man in search of health or of a remedy for a
-bodily ailment could not have found a more unlikely place for relief.
-
-"Is it opening medicine?" said the woman. "I can serve you."
-
-"My business is not professional," I replied.
-
-She cast a suspicious glance at me, and I guessed that she supposed me
-to be a dun.
-
-"It may be something of advantage to him," I observed.
-
-She brightened up instantly.
-
-"My husband is not in," she said; "but you may find him at the
-George."
-
-"At the George?"
-
-"Or the Green Dragon," she added.
-
-"Where are they? Far from here?"
-
-"Oh, no, not far; he has to keep himself handy in case he is called in
-anywhere. The George is at the corner of the next street, and the
-Green Dragon is at the opposite corner. If he is not at either of
-those places he is sure to be at the Britannia. Anybody will tell you
-where that is."
-
-As I walked to "the corner of the next street" I could not help
-smiling at the idea of Dr. Cooper being so considerate as to pass his
-time in a public house, within convenient hail of his place of
-business, in case he might be "called in anywhere"; but I pitied those
-who needed his assistance in a case of sickness. He was not at the
-George, and I was advised to try the Green Dragon; he was not at the
-Green Dragon, and I was advised to try the Britannia; and at the
-Britannia I found him.
-
-He was a washed-out, weedy man, with an inflamed countenance, and when
-I presented myself he was in the act of clinking pewter pots with some
-boon companions, who, according to my judgment, were standing treat to
-him. He drained his pot to the dregs, and turned it upside down on the
-counter, with a thirsty air about him notwithstanding the long draught
-he had just taken. I am not a teetotaler, nor an advocate of
-teetotalism, but it has always been a matter of regret to me that the
-persevering search for enlightenment on the part of the British public
-at the bottom of pewter pots does not lead to more encouraging
-results.
-
-At the moment of my entrance he and his companions were discussing a
-criminal case which had excited great interest and had largely
-occupied the newspapers for several days past. It was a supposed case
-of poisoning, and the person charged--it was a woman--had been
-acquitted after a long trial. Her husband had been the victim; but the
-medical evidence was inconclusive, and she had been given the benefit
-of the doubt. The woman and her husband had been on proved bad terms,
-and she had much to gain by his death. There was a man in the case,
-the woman's lover, and there was a strong suspicion that he was
-implicated; but, guilty or not guilty, he was not arraigned because no
-direct evidence could be brought against him. Only on the previous
-night had the case been concluded, and the result was published in the
-Sunday morning's papers, the jury having been locked up for eight
-hours before they arrived at their verdict.
-
-"She's escaped by the skin of her teeth," said one of the topers. "If
-I'd been on the jury she'd have had the rope."
-
-"Law's law," said a half-tipsy Solon, "and justice is justice. I don't
-believe in hanging a woman upon presumption. My opinion is that he
-poisoned himself to get rid of her."
-
-"That's a queer way of getting rid of a nuisance," was the reply.
-"Besides, there was no poison found in the body."
-
-"You're all at sixes and sevens," said a third speaker. "The doctors
-disagreed, and the weight of evidence was in favor of the woman. She's
-as artful as you make 'em; but that's no reason for hanging her."
-
-"The man was killed," persisted the first speaker. "He didn't die a
-natural death."
-
-"Nothing was proved," said the third speaker, "and when nothing's
-proved you can't bring anyone in guilty. This is a free country, I
-believe."
-
-What struck me in the expression of these opinions--if opinions they
-could be called--was their utterly illogical bearing. It was like a
-lot of weathercocks arguing; and when the half-tipsy Solon said, "Ask
-the doctor," they turned toward him, as though a direct question had
-been put to him, which he, as a weighty authority, could answer in a
-word, and thus settle the whole matter.
-
-"What I say is," said Dr. Cooper thirstily and with indistinct
-utterance, "that there are more ways of killing a man than one."
-
-"Ah," they all observed in effect, "Dr. Cooper knows."
-
-What it was that Dr. Cooper knew with respect to the case was not very
-clear. What I knew, when I heard him speak, was that he was drunk.
-Quickly came to my mind the suggestion whether he would be of more
-service to me drunk than sober.
-
-"Who's going to stand treat?" he inquired, with a nervous fingering of
-his pewter pot.
-
-"Your turn, doctor," they said.
-
-"If it's my turn," he replied pettishly, "you'll have to wait."
-
-They laughed, and left him one by one. Then he asked for liquor across
-the counter; but the barman shook his head and devoted himself to
-ready-money customers. I saw my opportunity, and advancing toward him,
-asked if he would join me in a friendly glass.
-
-"In a friendly glass," he said, "I would join Old Nick himself."
-
-A declaration which, frank as it was, could scarcely be said to be a
-recommendation. It was a peculiar feature of Dr. Cooper's tipsy
-condition that, although his speech was thick and somewhat indistinct,
-he did not slur or clip his words, which denoted that he still
-preserved some control over himself.
-
-"Beer or whisky, doctor?" I asked.
-
-"Whisky for choice," he said. "Irish."
-
-Whisky it was, and Irish; I spilled mine on the floor, and filled my
-glass with water. Dr. Cooper dealt with his as he dealt with the beer;
-it was evidently not his habit to take two bites at a cherry.
-
-"Another?" I suggested.
-
-"You're a gentleman," he said.
-
-When he had disposed of this second portion in a similar manner to the
-first, I opened the ball, and inwardly took credit to myself for
-rather artful tactics.
-
-"I came down this way, doctor," I said, "especially to see you."
-
-He seized my wrist with one hand, and put the other into his waistcoat
-pocket, removing it immediately, however, with a husky cough and an
-angry shake of his head.
-
-"No, no, doctor," I said, laughing, as he fumbled at my pulse, "I do
-not need professional advice to-day. The fact is, I have come to pay
-an old debt."
-
-He retained my hand, as though to prevent my escaping him.
-
-"You're one of the lot that has brought me down," he growled. "How
-much is it, and how long has it been due?"
-
-"It has been due a long time past," I replied; "and the amount is two
-shillings, for two bottles of medicine and advice."
-
-"Are you sure it isn't more?"
-
-"Quite sure. I should have paid you before to-day, but when I went to
-your place--a long while ago, I must tell you--I found you had gone.
-You practiced in the north of London, you know."
-
-"I do know; I have reason to know. If I had got my rights I should not
-be as I am. I should be practicing in Belgravia, and driving in my
-carriage. I'll take another whisky." I nodded at the barman, who
-refilled the glass, which he instantly emptied again. "What do we
-slave for? What do we study for? What do we waste the midnight oil
-for? To be taken in, to be robbed and swindled, to have promises made
-to us that are never fulfilled."
-
-"Unfortunately," I said, sympathizing with him, "it is the way of the
-world. It is the simple-minded and the honest that are defrauded."
-
-"You know how it is. Five shillings, you said."
-
-"No; it is two shillings I owe you."
-
-"Interest added, makes it three. You can't object to that."
-
-"I don't object; here is the money."
-
-He took it, and dropped it in his pocket. We had each of us only one
-disengaged hand, as he still kept hold of my wrist.
-
-"A feeble pulse," he said, shaking his head with tipsy gravity, "a
-very feeble pulse. Needs a stimulant."
-
-"Irish whisky?"
-
-"Irish whisky," he echoed; and disposed of his fourth glass, while I
-spilled mine as I had done before.
-
-These rapid potations had the effect I desired; they weakened his
-self-control, they loosened his tongue.
-
-"That was an interesting discussion you were having," I observed,
-"when I came in. What was it you said? That there are more ways than
-one of killing a man. How true that is! But it is only those who are
-experienced in such matters that can speak with authority. Do you
-suspect, doctor, that the woman is guilty?"
-
-"I will take my oath she is guilty."
-
-"But the fact of poison being administered was not absolutely
-established."
-
-He snapped his fingers. "That for being established! There are poisons
-and poisons; there are way and ways. Did you ever take a sleeping
-draught?"
-
-"Never."
-
-"Well, when you want one, come to me, and I will give you something
-that will make you sleep so sound that you will never wake up again."
-
-"Declined with thanks. But would it not be discovered?"
-
-"It might or it mightn't. Suppose it is discovered that you died of an
-overdose. Then comes the question, who administered it? When a man
-suffers from insomnia he doses himself as a rule, and if he overdoes
-it he has only himself to blame. There's the bottle at his bedside
-empty. There are the people who are interested--generally two, a man
-and a woman. If there are servants in the house they are asleep. What
-have they to do with it? The man, or the woman, does not wake up
-again. Now prove that the man, or the woman, who is left alive forced
-the sleeping draught down the other one's throat. You can't do it. I
-can tell you where you can buy some effervescent sleeping globules
-that you put in your mouth, and fall asleep while they are dissolving.
-One makes you sleep for six hours, two makes you sleep for ten hours,
-three makes you sleep for twenty, four makes you sleep forever. Some
-of us doctors have secrets that we keep to ourselves; make you as wise
-as we are, and where should we be? There was a case--I mention no
-names--of a man suffering under a painful disease which might run its
-course for months, perhaps years, before it prove fatal. Wife suggests
-that it would be a mercy to kill him, and so put him out of pain. A
-little syringe, a slight injection while the man is sleeping; it is
-done in a moment; the man is dead. The woman comes into a fortune, and
-marries her lover. Medical testimony, the disease from which the man
-has been suffering, and which _must_ prove fatal some time or other.
-Quite natural. Everybody's happy, and nothing more is heard of the
-matter. There are other ways. Charcoal, which English people don't
-take to; escape of gas"--I caught my breath, but fortunately my sudden
-spasm passed unnoticed--"quite as easy, quite as natural. For one
-murder discovered, how many undiscovered? Work that out!"
-
-"An interesting study for statisticians," I said.
-
-"If they had the facts before them; but they can't get hold of them.
-There are liquid poisons that can be mixed with food, and are
-tasteless and colorless; they can be administered for months, and
-nobody the wiser. You may find a trace in the body after death, but
-not sufficient to account for what has taken place, not a twentieth
-part sufficient to account for it. There are others to weaken not only
-the body but the mind, to destroy memory, to make one oblivious of the
-past. Perfectly pleasant and painless. Now, what do you think of a man
-who knows what I know being in such a position as I am."
-
-"It is disgraceful," I said.
-
-"It is infamous. You are struggling, you are poor, you have a large
-family, you are fond of the pleasures of life. A person--again I
-mention no names--comes to you, and says such and such a thing--never
-mind what thing. This person is rich; you are in debt. I am only
-supposing a case, you know."
-
-"Of course."
-
-"The person says, there's a sudden death in my house--an accident, say
-by charcoal, say by gas. A pure accident, most lamentable. A doctor's
-testimony is required, for formality's sake. Any doctor will do. You
-are in the neighborhood. Will you testify? Fee, so many guineas, and
-afterward a lift up in life, a chance to get along. As our national
-poet expresses it, 'My poverty, but not my will, consents.' You do no
-wrong; the person is a gentleman, and you take his word; you testify
-at the inquest, and all is smooth sailing. The affair is forgotten.
-You receive your few guineas, and you wait for the chance to get along
-in life, for the lift up that will bring you a lucrative practice. It
-never comes. The person shrugs his shoulders, contradicts you, jockeys
-you. What's the consequence? Your suspicions are excited. The person
-inherits a great sum of money by the death. You ferret that out; your
-suspicions grow stronger. You go to the person, and you mention your
-suspicions. He says, 'You are putting yourself in danger; if you have
-given false evidence, the law will make you suffer for it; you are a
-fool and a knave. Get out!' You are bound to submit. What are your
-feelings toward the person who has treated you so shamefully? What
-would you do him if it was in your power?"
-
-"I would certainly--supposing this not to be a hypothetical case----"
-
-"Which it is," interposed Dr. Cooper, "purely hypothetical."
-
-"Exactly. How could it be otherwise? But such conversations are most
-interesting to an outsider like myself. Supposing then, this not to be
-a hypothetical case, I would certainly be glad of any chance to be
-even with the person who has imposed upon me. Carrying the hypothesis
-further, what should you say became of the body of the--did you say a
-lady?"
-
-"No, I don't think I said a lady; but let it be a lady, for the sake
-of argument."
-
-"What became of the body--though that's a stupid question, because, of
-course, it was buried in the usual way?"
-
-"It might not have been. There's such a thing as cremation."
-
-What turn the conversation would have taken after this startling
-observation it is out of my power to say, for the slatternly wife of
-the doctor made her appearance here, and told my tipsy companion that
-a patient required his immediate attention.
-
-An hour afterward I was once more in Lamb's Terrace.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXI.
-
- BARBARA GIVES US SOME VALUABLE
- INFORMATION.
-
-
-"We thought you were lost," said Bob, and Barbara looked up with a
-smile, a sign that she regarded me as a friend.
-
-They had waited dinner for me, and I was surprised to see on the table
-quite an imposing array of crockery.
-
-"Where does all this come from?" I asked.
-
-"We have made discoveries," replied Bob, giving me a significant look.
-"Barbara here had no idea what was in the house, which proves that she
-is not one of the prying kind. All sorts of things have been bundled
-out of sight in odd nooks and corners, crockery, cutlery, table linen,
-and goodness only knows what. We have made another room ready for
-Barbara to sleep in to-night; it is on the same floor as this, and she
-says she is not afraid."
-
-"Not a bit," said Barbara, "now I aint in the 'ouse alone."
-
-"And she's going to bed early," added Bob.
-
-"As soon as ever you tell me," said Barbara.
-
-The dinner they had prepared was not at all a bad one, and I was
-hungry enough to enjoy a much worse fare. To Barbara it was a
-veritable feast, and she did as much justice to it as she had done to
-the breakfast. The moment we finished she jumped up, and took the
-plates and dishes to her own room where she washed them up.
-
-"You have something to tell me, Bob," I said, taking advantage of her
-absence.
-
-"I have. You have something in your budget, too."
-
-"Yes."
-
-"We will wait till Barbara has gone to bed; we can talk more freely
-then."
-
-"I have a question to ask her first," I said.
-
-"I also want a little information from her, the meaning of which you
-will understand when we are alone for the night." The little girl
-entering at this moment, Bob turned his attention to her. "Barbara,
-was your sister fond of dress?"
-
-"Lor', sir," answered Barbara. "Aint all gals fond of it? She used to
-say if she was a lady she'd allus dress in silk."
-
-"Do you recollect what frock she wore when you saw her last?"
-
-"It was a cotton frock, sir--pink, with little flowers on it. Miss
-Beatrice give it to 'er."
-
-"You would know it again, I suppose, if you saw it?"
-
-"In course I should know it, sir, 'cause Molly'd be in it."
-
-"But it would be worn out by this time, Barbara."
-
-"Yes, sir, it would. I didn't think of that."
-
-"Do you recollect the dress that Miss Beatrice wore when you saw her
-last?"
-
-"I should think I do, sir; it _was_ a beauty. A gray silk, it wos,
-with steel trimmin's. She looked lovely in it, she did."
-
-Bob conveyed in a glance at me that he had no further questions to
-ask, and I took up the cue.
-
-"You have a good memory, Barbara, and I dare say you can give me a
-description of Mr. Nisbet. You told us he was not a nice looking
-gentleman."
-
-"Not at all, sir, though he did 'ave a 'igh fore'ead. 'E 'ad a look
-like ice in his eyes."
-
-"What color were they?"
-
-"A kind of cold blue; and 'e 'ad a red beard and mustache."
-
-"A tall gentleman, Barbara?"
-
-"Yes, sir. 'E didn't have no 'at on when 'e came into the kitching,
-and I sor that 'is 'ead wos bald in the middle, and was flattish at
-the top. As 'e looked round the kitching 'e put a pair of gold
-spectacles on, and when they wosn't on 'is eye 'e was allus a-dangling
-'em with 'is fingers, twiddling 'em about like."
-
-"You don't seem to have liked his looks?"
-
-"I didn't, sir; there was something about 'im that made my 'eart's
-blood run cold. I pitied Miss Beatrice, I did."
-
-"For any particular reason, Barbara?"
-
-"Not as I knows on, sir, but I thought to myself, 'I shouldn't like to
-'ave a father like that; I'd rather 'ave none at all.'"
-
-"What did your sister Molly think of him?"
-
-"She didn't care for 'im no more than I did, but she didn't say much
-about 'im. It's my belief she wos frightened of 'im. She told me a
-funny thing once."
-
-"Yes?"
-
-"She sed that sometimes when he looked at 'er she felt as if she
-couldn't move or speak of her own accord. 'Barbara,' she sed to me,
-'it's my opinion that if 'e ordered me to go up to the roof and stand
-on the top of one of the chimbley pots I should go and do it without a
-single word.' But he allus spoke soft to 'er, she sed."
-
-"Thank you, Barbara; and now it will be best for you to get to bed.
-Last night was a broken night, and you must be tired."
-
-Wishing us good-night the girl went to her room, and when I opened her
-door a few minutes afterward she was fast asleep.
-
-Then, before asking Bob to speak of what was on his mind, I related my
-own adventures. He was greatly excited at my description of Dr. Cooper
-and the supposititious case he had put to me, and also at the news of
-Mr. Oliver Nisbet being in London.
-
-"There's never smoke without a fire," he said. "Dr. Cooper was not
-drawing upon his imagination when he spoke about poisons and sleeping
-draughts, and of a poor doctor being called in to testify to a death
-of which he knew less than nothing. It happened, Ned! it happened; it
-fits in with what occurred in this house. He supplied the proof in the
-last words he spoke to you--'there's such a thing as cremation.' It is
-as clear as the noonday sun. Mr. Nisbet wanted a doctor's certificate
-of death; he calls in Dr. Cooper and obtains what he requires, in the
-exact shape he desires, for the payment of a few guineas and the
-promise of a further reward which has never been fulfilled. What is
-the consequence? This wretched pettifogger bears an animosity against
-his employer, which may perhaps be turned to good account--though
-whether he babbles when sober as he does when he is in his cups
-remains to be seen. He must not be lost sight of."
-
-"He shall not be. I am thinking whether it will be advisable to put
-the inquiry agent on his track."
-
-"We can decide nothing as yet, but the thing is moving, that's one
-comfort. Every day, almost every hour, some new feature seems to come
-to light. What are you doing?"
-
-"Writing the description of Mr. Nisbet's personal appearance with
-which Barbara supplied us. I promised to let Mr. Dickson have it as
-soon as possible, and I shall post it to him to-night. Now for your
-news, Bob."
-
-"Almost as important as yours. When you left us I commenced to make a
-thorough examination of the house, as I said I would. Barbara assisted
-me. I examined every room, every cupboard, and found a lot of things
-which had apparently been thrown away in haste. These discoveries gave
-point to an observation I have already made to you--that it is strange
-the last tenant did not call in a broker and dispose of articles for
-which he had no use, as he evidently had no intention of occupying the
-house. Barbara was much surprised at our discoveries, and I shouldn't
-wonder, honest as I believe the child to be, if the idea occurred to
-her that she might have made use of the property from time to time to
-relieve her poverty. However, that is neither here nor there, and I
-may be doing Barbara an injustice. We had occupied some time in our
-search, when it became necessary to devote attention to the
-preparation of dinner, so I sent the girl away, and continued to poke
-about alone. It was well I did so, for I made what I conceive to be a
-startling discovery. On the floor above this there are two attics,
-presumably intended for servants' bedrooms. There is a rather large
-landing, and in the wall of this landing I observed two low doors.
-Opening them, I found that they were cupboards for the receptacle of
-lumber; they extend far into the outer wall of the house. It was in
-one of these cupboards, at the extreme end, that I made my startling
-discovery. What kind of dress did Barbara say that Miss Beatrice wore
-when she last saw her?"
-
-"A gray silk, with steel trimmings."
-
-Bob went to a corner of the room and brought forward a large bundle.
-
-"Here it is."
-
-There it was, sure enough--a very beautiful dress, perfectly made, of
-expensive material.
-
-"Observe," said Bob, "this is not a dress which has served its day,
-and which it is at all probable the wearer voluntarily discarded. It
-is almost new, and could have been worn but a few times. I put this
-aside, and I produce every other article of a lady's attire--silk
-stockings, shoes, petticoats, mantle, hat. I produce also a lady's
-nightdress, and every other requisite--the outfit is complete. All
-these articles are in good condition; the stockings show no signs of
-wear, the shoes are nearly new, the mantle must have cost a fair sum
-of money. To whom did these clothes belong?"
-
-"To Miss Beatrice."
-
-"Yes, to Miss Beatrice. What did Barbara say was her sister's favorite
-dress?"
-
-"A pink cotton, with little flowers on it."
-
-"Here it is." He produced it. "And also every other article worn by a
-young woman in Molly's station in life. Nightdress as well. The two
-outfits, complete in every particular. Now, a singular feature in this
-discovery is that these things were not thrust hurriedly and hastily
-into the cupboard. Each article that could be folded was carefully
-folded, and each costume was carefully packed and wrapped in thick
-brown paper. Time and attention has been devoted to the task, and
-there must have been an underlying motive in the care that was
-exercised in its accomplishment. What was this motive, and how are we
-to act? My firm opinion is that Mr. Nisbet's hands are responsible for
-the packing of these clothes. Ordinarily a man could be careless of
-such things, and would not waste his time upon them. The conjectures
-that present themselves are so extraordinary that I cannot reduce them
-to order or reason, but I have an odd conviction--for which I can give
-you no explanation--that we are on the threshold of further
-disclosures. What is the next step, Ned?"
-
-"There are several," I replied, "and we will speak of them. First, let
-me tell you that it is my intention to keep watch on this house."
-
-"To reside here?"
-
-"For a time. To eat, and drink, and sleep here, and to be absent from
-the house as little as possible."
-
-Bob interrupted me by asking if the apparition of the cat was in the
-room.
-
-"It is on the hearthrug," I replied, "seemingly waiting, as we are
-waiting, for developments." Then I continued speaking of the realities
-of the position. "I suppose it would be too much to ask you to keep me
-company here this week, after your office work is over?"
-
-"It is not too much to expect; I should have proposed it myself if you
-had not suggested it. Every evening, directly my work is done, I will
-come and join you."
-
-"You are a good fellow. I intend to be very careful in my movements,
-and, so far as possible, not to let it be known that the house is
-occupied. I do not wish Barbara to remain. We must find a home for her
-somewhere, and we must pledge her to secrecy. I would take her to my
-own house, but at present I do not consider it prudent to do so. My
-wife is an inquisitive woman, and something might leak out; besides,
-in order that my time may be perfectly free, I intend to send her into
-the country for a fortnight; she shall go to-morrow. I can easily find
-an excuse for not accompanying her. You lodge in a quiet part of
-London, and you have spoken in praise of your landlady. Would she, for
-a consideration, give Barbara board and lodging for a little while?"
-
-"No doubt she would. In fact, I think she is looking for a girl to
-assist her in the house."
-
-"Very well. At what hour in the morning are you due at your office?"
-
-"Half-past nine."
-
-"Then you will be able, if you leave here at about seven or half-past,
-to take Barbara to Canonbury, and get to the office in time."
-
-"Yes, I can do that, and in the evening I will join you."
-
-"Thanks. The next thing is about your nephew, Ronald. It appears to me
-to be almost an act of treachery to conceal from him what has
-occurred."
-
-"What good purpose would be served," asked Bob, "by disclosing it to
-him? He is blind, and could not assist us. By and by, perhaps, he may
-be of use, though I do not see in what way; at present it would only
-distress him to let him into the secret."
-
-"We will wait, then; but I shall call upon him to-morrow and have a
-little chat with him about Mr. Nisbet. It will be a busy day for all
-of us, and I shall be absent from the house till evening, but you will
-find me here when you come. Another thing that is in my mind is
-whether there is any special motive for Mr. Nisbet's return to
-London--any special motive, I mean, in relation to this mystery."
-
-"Impossible to say, Ned."
-
-"That is so. Well, we must wait. Now I think we have threshed matters
-out, and we will get to bed. I will just run out and post my letter to
-Mr. Dickson, and this exciting day's work will be over."
-
-We were all up next morning before seven o'clock, and after a hasty
-breakfast I told Barbara of our plans with respect to her. She was
-quite willing, and expressed her gratitude; her only trouble was about
-her sister Molly, who, she said, might come to the house in search for
-her when she was absent. It was not difficult to set her mind at ease
-upon this point, and she departed with Bob in perfect contentment.
-
-The first call I made--at ten o'clock--was upon Mr. Dickson. He had
-received my letter, and he informed me that the description I had
-given of Mr. Oliver Nisbet tallied exactly with that gentleman's
-appearance. He had not ascertained from what part of the Continent Mr.
-Nisbet had come, but he had learned that he had been abroad for some
-time past. Our relations with each other being now on a more
-confidential footing, I spoke to him about Dr. Cooper, and instructed
-him to keep his eye on the pettifogger. From his office I proceeded to
-the residence of Ronald Elsdale, and opened up a conversation with
-him, leading artfully to the subject upon which I desired information.
-
-"From certain events that have transpired lately," I said, "I am
-curious to learn something more of his character. Were you aware at
-the time of your intimacy with him that his stepdaughter was heiress
-to a large fortune?"
-
-No, he answered, he was not aware of it. From the manner in which they
-traveled he judged Mr. Nisbet to be a man of means, but he knew
-nothing further.
-
-"Respecting his acquirements," I said. "Was he of a scientific turn of
-mind?"
-
-"He was fond of chemistry, I believe," said Ronald, "and of
-experimentalizing. Your question brings to my mind a conversation
-which took place at _table d'hôte_ when we were in Chamounix. It was
-on the subject of anæsthetics, and the effect of certain poisonous
-chemicals upon different temperaments. I fancy that Mr. Nisbet was at
-first disinclined to take part in the discussion, but a remark escaped
-him which was disputed by a person at the table, and he grew warm, and
-spoke with authority upon the subject, with which he was evidently
-familiar. It was the only occasion upon which I heard him speak
-freely, and I think he was not pleased at having been drawn into the
-conversation, for he stopped suddenly in the middle of a sentence, and
-left the room. Beatrice told me afterward that he was very clever in
-those matters, and that on occasions when she had passed a sleepless
-night from toothache or some other ailment, he had given her a draught
-which produced a good night's rest. I recollect now that she related
-an incident which strangely interested me. She had been restless and
-in pain for two or three days, and her stepfather prescribed for her.
-When she awoke in the morning her pain had passed away, and she was
-quite well physically, but a singular thing happened to her. She had
-lost her memory. She could not recall what happened yesterday or the
-day before, and she said with a smile that it was with difficulty she
-remembered her name. Gradually her power of memory came back to her,
-and she recollected everything perfectly."
-
-"Did this occur to her again, Mr. Elsdale?"
-
-"So far as I know it occurred only once. I suppose you will not tell
-me why you are asking these questions, Mr. Emery?"
-
-"Not yet; and I am going to ask you two more. Do you believe that you
-will ever see the young lady again?"
-
-"See her? No. How can I? You forget that I am blind. But I have the
-firmest belief that I shall come into association with her again."
-
-"In life?"
-
-"In life," he replied gravely.
-
-"My other question is this. On former occasions, when we were in each
-other's company, your uncle being present, you have had an impression
-that there was a dog, or some other living creature, in the room. Have
-you such an impression now?"
-
-"No." (I may mention that the apparition of the cat was not visible to
-me.) "I know, Mr. Emery, that you must think I am laboring under some
-hallucination, but I cannot help that. You must take me as you find
-me, and make the best, and not the worst, of me. I have an engagement
-with a pupil, and you will excuse me now."
-
-I had studied the time-tables, and, it being twelve o'clock, it was
-safe for me to present myself to my poor deluded wife. On my way home
-I met with another adventure. There was a block of vehicles in the
-road, and cabs, omnibuses, and carts were waiting for the policeman's
-instruction to proceed. In one of these cabs, a hansom, a gentleman
-was sitting whom I immediately recognized as Mr. Oliver Nisbet. He had
-a red beard and mustache, he had a high forehead, his eyes were of a
-cold blue, and he was impatiently dangling a pair of gold-rimmed
-eyeglasses between his fingers. The faithfulness of Barbara's
-description rather startled me, and I should scarcely have been
-surprised if he had accosted me. But I was a stranger to him, and he
-took no notice of me; this gave me the opportunity of observing him
-closely, and I was confident that I was not mistaken. What
-particularly struck me was the steely blue of his eyes; there seemed
-to be a compelling power in them which strangely affected me, and I
-could not help thinking that I should not relish coming under their
-influence. The policeman stood aside, and the vehicles passed on. In a
-moment or two he was out of sight.
-
-My wife opened the door for me, and kissed me affectionately.
-
-"Have you enjoyed yourself?" she asked.
-
-"Immensely," I replied, with a guilty feeling.
-
-"I am glad to hear it," was her response, "though I must say, Edward,
-you don't look much the better for the trip."
-
-"That is only your fancy, Maria. It has done me so much good that I
-want you to spend a couple of weeks in Brighton."
-
-"I shall be very glad of the change. When shall we start?"
-
-"I cannot go with you," I said, "as I have business to attend to in
-London. You can easily get a lady friend to accompany you, and I will
-be responsible for all the expenses. Maria, I insist upon it. You are
-pale, you are out of sorts, and the change will set you up. I intend
-to exercise my authority, and to insist upon it."
-
-"You are very kind; but----"
-
-"I will have no 'buts.' It has to be done, and done it shall be."
-
-And I was so determined that done it was. I did not leave home till I
-had seen Maria and a lady friend off; then, and then only, did I look
-upon myself as free. If the necessity arose I could easily keep her
-away for a longer time than two weeks.
-
-Once more I set my face toward Lamb's Terrace, riding in a cab, and
-furnished with provisions, in the shape of a cooked ham, a supply of
-chops, bread, butter, tea, and everything that was necessary to
-victual the garrison. I took the things with me in a hamper, and at
-the corner of the desolate thoroughfare I discharged the cab, and
-carried the hamper to the house.
-
-It is necessary here to mention what I did before I left the house in
-the morning. I can give no reason for my proceedings, and therefore I
-must content myself with relating what it was I did. The two dresses
-found in the attic cupboard I repacked carefully in their wrapping of
-brown paper, and replaced them in the cupboard. I locked the two rooms
-which had been occupied by Bob and me and Barbara, and I removed all
-traces of any persons having been in the house. Again, I say, I do not
-know why I adopted these apparently unnecessary precautions; I must
-have been mysteriously prompted, as I had been on other occasions in
-the course of my strange adventures.
-
-I did not expect Bob for an hour, and I busied myself with arranging
-the supply of food I had brought with me. Then I went to the attic
-cupboard, with the intention of bringing down the women's garments I
-had discovered there. To my astonishment they were gone. Some person
-had been in the house during my absence, and had taken them away.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXII.
-
- MR. NISBET VISITS LAMB'S TERRACE.
-
-
-I had no doubt whatever that this person was Mr. Oliver Nisbet, who
-must have in his possession the means of access to the house. This
-being the case, the question of motive arose. It could not have been
-the value of the garments, which, to a man of fortune, was of small
-importance. The care which in the first instance had been taken to
-conceal them became now in my judgment of extreme significance; still
-more so the stealthy manner in which they had been removed. Mr. Nisbet
-had been in London comparatively but a few hours before he carried out
-a design the probable intention of which was to remove and destroy
-evidence which might in some way place him in peril. Likely enough he
-had come to London for this special purpose, fearing, as he was no
-longer the tenant, that the house would be let to strangers, into
-whose hands the clothing would naturally fall. Surely he would not
-have paid his stealthy visit to Lamb's Terrace if he had not cause to
-dread exposure!
-
-Bob, who presented himself punctually at the time he named, agreed
-with me in this view, and when I told him of my coming by chance upon
-Mr. Nisbet, and spoke of the impression he produced upon me, he looked
-disturbed. I asked the reason, and he answered:
-
-"Well, Ned, I don't mind confessing to you that I have a secret horror
-of Mr. Nisbet, and an unreasonable dread of him. I hardly think we two
-would be a match for him."
-
-I could not help smiling as I remarked, "There is not much chance of a
-personal encounter, Bob."
-
-"I am not so sure of that," he said. "I am not so sure that he is not
-at this moment concealed in the house, the ins and outs of which he
-must be much better acquainted with than we are."
-
-"Concealed for the purpose of doing us an injury?" I inquired.
-
-"Concealed," he replied, "first to ascertain if any persons were in
-occupation and had any suspicions of the last tenant--in which case he
-would in all probability endeavor to get rid of those persons as he
-got rid of his unfortunate stepdaughter."
-
-"You forget, Bob, the gas is cut off."
-
-"Ned," said Bob impressively, "my firm belief is that the young lady
-did not meet her death by asphyxiation caused by an escape of gas.
-True, we have no evidence of a crime having been committed; our
-suspicions go for nothing; your apparition of the cat goes for
-nothing; a third-rate lawyer would laugh them to scorn; but none the
-less do I believe that the lady my nephew loved was murdered by her
-stepfather. Your interview with Dr. Cooper strengthens these
-suspicions, the removal of the women's clothing confirms them in my
-mind. And still, legally, we are no further advanced. Everything in
-this house belongs to the last tenant. He paid the rent regularly
-while he held the lease, and if he chose to leave his property here
-unprotected, it was his affair; and if, after a long absence from
-England, he returns and pays an early visit to the house, which is
-still practically without a tenant, for the purpose of taking
-possession of part of his property, he is still fairly within his
-right. Even supposing that there were a law to touch him--which there
-is not--he could easily explain the matter, and his explanation would
-be accepted without question."
-
-"Unless," I interposed, "we stepped forward with what we know."
-
-"We know nothing, Ned, absolutely nothing. We should only bring
-ourselves into trouble, lay ourselves open to a criminal action for
-defamation, which the most skillful lawyer in the land could not
-successfully defend. What do you think I have done to-day?"
-
-"I have not the least idea."
-
-"I asked my employer for a holiday, and I have got it. I have been
-slaving in his office for years without a single week's vacation. He
-gave me the holiday, three or four weeks, at my option, and I intend
-to employ the time in remaining with you and assisting in the
-elucidation of this mystery, if it is ever to be arrived at."
-
-"You are a real friend; but, Bob, that is a nice idea of a holiday,
-after years of hard work."
-
-"Never mind. The mystery has got tight hold of me, and I don't mean to
-leave it unless I am compelled by circumstances to do so. You have no
-objection to company and assistance, I suppose?"
-
-"I am truly grateful for it."
-
-"You see," said Bob earnestly, "I happen to be more closely connected
-with it than you are. You have no human relation with the parties in
-the affair, who, until quite lately, were complete strangers to you. I
-have some sort of connection with them through my nephew Ronald, whom
-I have seen to-day, and who, I may tell you, is troubled by the
-inquiries you have made of him. He has no notion of their tendency,
-but he felt that something is being concealed from him which he has a
-right to know. It is in his interests, and for his satisfaction, that
-I enter into a direct partnership with you. Have you succeeded in
-persuading your good wife to go to the seaside?"
-
-"I have, and she will be away for at least for a fortnight; if
-necessary I shall insist upon her remaining at Brighton for a longer
-time."
-
-"So that we are free to set actively to work without interruption."
-
-"Yes, Bob. How about Barbara?"
-
-"My landlady takes her upon trial. There will be no charge for board
-and lodging, and if she gives satisfaction she will get a shilling a
-week to commence with."
-
-"I am glad to hear it. And now to get back to your suspicions that Mr.
-Nisbet may be concealed in the house even while we are talking. He
-might endeavor to get rid of us, you said. When, and how?"
-
-"When? In the dead of night, when we are sound asleep. How? Well, I
-put together these facts: Mr. Nisbet's knowledge of dangerous
-chemicals, the narcotic which Ronald informed you he gave to his
-stepdaughter, and the significant conclusions which can be drawn from
-your conversation with Dr. Cooper. I propose, not this evening,
-to-morrow morning, that you, or we together, pay a visit to Dr.
-Cooper, and have an interview with him. He has a grievance against Mr.
-Nisbet; it might be turned to effect."
-
-"You suspect him of being an accomplice?"
-
-"In a certain sense. What do they call it in law? Accessory after the
-fact. He might have known nothing at the time; the belief that his
-knowledge of poisonous narcotics--bear in mind his boast--had been
-used to a bad end may have come afterward."
-
-"But if he makes any admission it could be used against himself."
-
-"It could, but he may be able to prove his innocence of a guilty
-intention. However, that is a point for future consideration. A visit
-can do no harm. He is desperately poor, and a little bribe may tempt
-him; if we cannot worm anything out of him, we may out of his wife.
-Now, Ned, before I consent to sleep in this house I intend to search
-it thoroughly from roof to cellar."
-
-We carried out this proposal; we thoroughly examined every room, we
-made fast every door when we closed it behind us; and we discovered
-nothing. Our search over, we were quite convinced that we were the
-only persons in the house.
-
-The following two hours were devoted to preparing supper, and while we
-were thus employed we discussed our movements for to-morrow. Bob
-insisted that Ronald Elsdale should be made acquainted with all that
-had transpired, and I consented. Our first visit in the morning was to
-be paid to the inquiry agent, our second to Dr. Cooper, our third to
-Ronald. Bob was thoroughly in earnest, and I perceived that his
-interest in the matter was now no less than my own.
-
-I have already stated that the room we had selected was on the second
-floor, and that its windows faced the back garden. There were Venetian
-blinds to the window, and some of the slats were awry and loose from
-long neglect. For a reason which he did not explain Bob shaded the one
-candle which we had lighted, so that the fact of the apartment being
-occupied could not be quite clearly established from without. Several
-times Bob went to the window and cautiously peeped through the crooked
-slats.
-
-"What for, Bob?" I asked.
-
-"Just a fancy of mine," he replied. "Is your apparition present?"
-
-"It is not."
-
-The weather had suddenly changed, in fit accordance with the
-extraordinary vagaries of our beautiful climate. A fine night had set
-in, and there was a full bright moon. In the middle of a game of
-cribbage Bob rose once more, and stepped to the window and remained
-there.
-
-"Don't touch the candle, Ned," he said, "and move cautiously. Come
-here quietly, so as not to give an observer outside any indication
-that human beings are in the room."
-
-I obeyed him, and presently was standing motionless by his side,
-peeping through the slats.
-
-The garden was bathed in light. Standing in full view I saw a man
-facing our window, his eyes intently fixed in our direction in the
-endeavor to discover whether the apartment was inhabited.
-
-"Can you see him plainly?'
-
-"Quite plainly, Bob."
-
-"Who is it?"
-
-"Mr. Oliver Nisbet."
-
-"Ah!"
-
-And now a strange incident occurred, visible to me, but not to Bob. In
-the clear moonlight I saw the skeleton cat creeping toward the man who
-was watching. Slowly it advanced and fastened itself upon him, and
-climbed upward till it reached his shoulder. And there it squatted,
-its yellow eyes resting ominously on Mr. Nisbet's face. He seemed to
-be perfectly unconscious of the presence of the apparition, but to me
-it was an unmistakable sign, more powerful than the strongest human
-proof, that the man had been guilty of a horrible crime. In silence we
-stood at the window for several minutes, and then Mr. Nisbet slunk
-away to the rear of the garden. He climbed the crumbling wall which
-encompassed it, and was gone.
-
-"What do you say to that, Ned?" asked Bob.
-
-I could not answer, so enthralled was I by the spiritual evidence of
-guilt of which I had been a witness. Bob looked at me inquiringly.
-
-"Your face is as white as death," he said. "Are you ill?"
-
-"A moment, Bob," I replied; and when I was sufficiently recovered I
-explained to him what I had seen. It stirred him as deeply as it had
-stirred me.
-
-"If a shadow of doubt was in my mind," he said, "it is dispelled. The
-villain must be brought to justice."
-
-"He shall be, if human effort can accomplish it. I will not rest till
-his guilt is brought home to him."
-
-We slept but little that night, and did not take our rest together.
-Fearful of consequences to which we could give no name, we slept and
-watched in turn, Bob's pistol being handy for any emergency. Nothing
-further, however, occurred to disturb us. Early in the morning we
-breakfasted, and took our way to Mr. Dickson's office.
-
-"You received my message, then?" were his first words to me.
-
-"What message?" I inquired.
-
-"The one I sent to your house an hour ago. I knew it was safe to leave
-it, because your wife was in the country. Oh, we find out things
-without being told. It belongs to our business."
-
-"I did not sleep at home last night; I received no message."
-
-"It does not matter, now you are here. I have news for you. Yesterday
-Mr. Oliver Nisbet paid two visits to the house in Lamb's Terrace."
-
-"You discovered that, did you?"
-
-"I should be a bungler if I had not. We have never left him, and I
-will stake all I am worth that he had not the slightest suspicion that
-he was being watched. His first visit was made at two o'clock. He let
-himself into the house with a key, and remained there about an hour.
-He went in with his hands empty; he came out with his hands full. He
-carried a large parcel with him wrapped in brown paper, and this
-evidently was the motive for his first visit. We do not know what was
-in the parcel; he took it to his room in the Métropole, and left it
-there. His second visit was paid in the night, at half-past nine. He
-did not enter by the front door; indeed, he did not enter at all. He
-climbed over the back wall of the garden, and stood there, watching
-the back windows, for half an hour or so. Then he returned the same
-way as he came. From Lamb's Terrace he went to Theobald's Row, South
-Lambeth, and had an interview with a disreputable apothecary there of
-the name of Cooper. He calls himself a doctor, but I doubt whether he
-has a diploma. From Theobald's Row, Mr. Nisbet returned to the
-Métropole, and left instructions to be called early. If you went to
-the hotel now you would not find him there."
-
-"He has fled!" I exclaimed.
-
-"I do not know about that," said Mr. Dickson, with a smile. "We will
-call it a departure. He has taken his departure."
-
-"Gone to another hotel?"
-
-"Not in this country. He left for the Continent this morning by the
-early train."
-
-I stamped my foot impatiently. "Then he has escaped us!" I cried.
-
-"He has not gone alone," said Mr. Dickson calmly. "One of my officers
-went by the same train. I am right in my understanding that you do not
-mind a little extra expense?"
-
-"Quite right."
-
-"The question of expense is frequently a puzzling matter with us,
-movements requiring an unauthorized expenditure of money sometimes
-occurring suddenly, when there is not time to consult our clients. If
-I had allowed Mr. Nisbet to leave the country unaccompanied he might
-have slipped through your fingers; in any event it would have been a
-great trouble, and have necessitated the expenditure of much more
-money, to pick up the broken threads. Many a good case has been
-spoiled by parsimony."
-
-"I understand that. Where has Mr. Nisbet gone to?"
-
-"I cannot inform you yet. As far as Paris, certainly; but my
-impression is he goes farther. My officer will telegraph me from
-Paris, and will not leave him till he has reached his destination."
-
-I considered a moment, and then took Bob aside. "Will you accompany me
-to Paris?" I asked.
-
-"With pleasure."
-
-I turned to Mr. Dickson. "Your officer will telegraph to you from
-Paris?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"If I wait here for information I shall lose a day. You could
-telegraph to me in Paris the address you receive from your officer?"
-
-"There is no difficulty. You intend to follow?"
-
-"I do. Give me the name of some central hotel in Paris where I can put
-up till I receive your telegram."
-
-"Hôtel de Bade, Boulevard des Italiens."
-
-"That will do. I have something to do here in London before I can
-start. I can get through my business in about an hour, perhaps a few
-minutes more. Bob, run out and bring two hansoms with smart horses."
-Bob vanished. "Now, the best train, Mr. Dickson?"
-
-"Let me see. It is not yet nine. Your business say an hour and twenty
-minutes. A train from Victoria, another from Charing Cross, at eleven.
-Could you catch one of these, whichever is the nearest for you?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"You arrive in Paris at seven this evening. Our man will reach there
-two hours and a half earlier. You may get a telegram from me at the
-Hôtel de Bade within an hour or so of your arrival."
-
-"Capital. Good-morning."
-
-The cabs were at the door, and I told Bob to drive with speed to my
-house, to pack up a bag for both of us expeditiously, and to meet me
-at Ronald Elsdale's house at a little after ten. The cab was to remain
-there, and he was to detain his nephew till I joined him there.
-Pending my arrival he was to tell Ronald everything. I gave him a line
-to my servant, authorizing him to take what clothes were necessary for
-the journey.
-
-"Double fare," I said to both the cabmen, "if you drive at your
-fullest speed."
-
-The next moment Bob was driving to my house and I was on my way to Dr.
-Cooper.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXIII.
-
- ON THE TRACK.
-
-
-Theobald's Row was as depressing in the morning as it had been in the
-evening, and looked as if a bath would do it good. The workingmen's
-lodging houses bore even a more striking resemblance to prisons, and
-the men and women I passed looked as if they had been up all night,
-and had hurried out to their depressing occupations without having had
-recourse to soap and water. On the doorstep of Dr. Cooper's shop the
-same half dozen children were playing the same games with pieces of
-broken crockery and dry mud, and bore no appearance of having been
-washed since I last set eyes on them. One of the children, catching
-sight of me, jumped up and ran into the shop, screaming:
-
-"Here's the gentleman, mother!" At which summons the slatternly woman
-immediately presented herself. It struck me that there was something
-aggressive in her aspect.
-
-"Oh," she said, in no amiable tone, "it's you!"
-
-"Yes," I replied, "it is I."
-
-"And you call yourself a workingman," she exclaimed.
-
-"I am not aware that I have done so."
-
-"So my husband told me last night; you are the man who called last
-night, and went to seek my husband at the Britannia. Don't deny it."
-
-"I have not the least intention of doing so. You gave me the
-information where to see him."
-
-"So I did, and he said you pretended to be a workingman. Now, a
-workingman wouldn't say, 'it is I'; he'd say 'it's me.' I have been
-brought pretty low, but I had fair schooling when I was young, and I
-know a workingman from a gentleman."
-
-"Well," I observed, "say that I am a gentleman; is that anything
-against me?"
-
-"It is everything against you. I heard from my husband all that passed
-between you--as nearly as he could remember, in the state he was. When
-he's in his cups his tongue runs too free, and you gave him rope
-enough. Perhaps you're not a gentleman, after all. What do you say to
-detective?"
-
-"I am not a detective," I answered, with, I confess, a rather guilty
-feeling, for if I was not doing the work of a detective, what else was
-I doing? "For what reason on earth should a detective be running after
-your husband?"
-
-"An admission!" she cried, and I saw that I had to do with a sharp
-woman. "Then you _are_ running after him." She folded her arms
-defiantly. "Now, what for?"
-
-I smiled rather feebly as I said, "You would not believe me if I told
-you I have come to put something in his way."
-
-"You are right there. I should not believe you."
-
-"But it is the truth, nevertheless, and it will not serve me to talk
-it over with you. Can I see your husband?"
-
-"You cannot see him."
-
-"Is he not at home?"
-
-"He is not at home."
-
-"Will he be in soon?"
-
-"He will not be in soon."
-
-There was no mistaking her meaning; she regarded me as an enemy, and
-it was her intention to be personally offensive.
-
-"You do not wish me and your husband to meet?"
-
-"You shan't meet if I can help it."
-
-"Then you must have something to fear."
-
-This thrust, which I gave involuntarily--for I had no desire to hurt
-the poor woman's feelings--drove the color from her face. She
-retreated a step, and stumbled over a child that was playing on the
-floor. The slight accident seemed to infuriate her; she angrily pushed
-the child away with her foot, and turned upon me like a tigress.
-
-"What are you hunting us down for?" she cried. "Do you think I have
-not had trouble enough in my life? Driven here and there, with a pack
-of hungry children in rags, and tied to a man who expects me to keep a
-home and a family upon ten shillings a week! But he's my husband for
-all that, and I'm not going to help you bring a deeper disgrace upon
-us. You came here yesterday to set a trap for him, with a lying story
-that you owed him a few pence which you were anxious to pay. God knows
-what you wormed out of him, for, clever as he is, he's a fool when he
-pours the drink down his throat. I've warned him over and over again
-to be careful what he says; but I might as well have talked to a
-stone. He's out of your reach now, at all events, and you'll have a
-job to find him. I wish you joy of your task, you cowardly sneak!"
-
-The passion of her defiance of me was wonderful to witness; but
-underlying this defiance was a terror which did not escape my
-observation.
-
-"I came here," I said gently, for her despair and her poverty inspired
-me with genuine pity, "in the hope that he would assist me in the
-discovery of a crime which has not been brought to light. If he is not
-implicated in it he would have earned a few pounds; if in any way he
-is involved in it, all I can say is, Heaven pity him--and you!"
-
-My time was too precious to waste further words upon her, and I left
-the shop, and entered the cab which was waiting for me. Before I could
-close the door a man accosted me.
-
-"I heard what passed inside the shop," he said. "Make it worth my
-while, and I'll tell you something about Dr. Cooper."
-
-"Jump in," I answered; "I have no time to stop talking here." I gave
-the driver Ronald Elsdale's address, and we sped thitherward. "Now,
-what have you to say?"
-
-"You want to know where the doctor is?" he commenced.
-
-"I do."
-
-"Well, I can't tell you that exactly, but I can put you on his track.
-It's worth, I should say,"--he deliberated, and looked at me covertly
-to decide what he would be likely to screw out of me--"not less than
-half a crown."
-
-"I will give you that if you keep nothing back."
-
-"All right. Where's the coin?"
-
-"No, my friend," I said, "I'll have the goods before I pay for them."
-
-"You're a sharp old file, but I'm out of work; It's capital and labor,
-and we know who's the grinder. Here was I, at six this morning,
-looking for work and not getting it. The doctor's shop shut, it's not
-the likes of him that catches worms. Back I come home at a quarter
-past seven, and there's a telegraph boy banging at the doctor's door.
-I help him bang, and out comes the doctor, doing up his buttons; takes
-the telegram, reads it, turns red and white, rushes into the house,
-rushes out in a brace of shakes, and scuds off. 'What's up?' thinks I,
-and off I scuds after him; he's too excited to notice. At St. George's
-Hospital, walking up and down in a fume, and looking as if he'd knock
-everything and everybody into a cocked hat if he had his way, there's
-a gentleman waiting for him, and a four-wheeler, with trunks atop,
-waiting for both of 'em. They have a hurried talk; I'm not near enough
-to hear what passes, but I get up to the cab as they step in. 'Charing
-Cross Station,' cries the gentleman to cabby. 'Break your horse's neck
-if you like; if I don't catch the Continental train I'll break yours.'
-Off goes the cab, and then, what do you think? off goes another cab
-that I hadn't noticed, after the first. I've got no money to pay for
-cabs, but having nothing better to do, and looking upon the move as a
-rum sort of move, I foots it to the station, and gets there at five
-minutes to eight. There they are, Dr. Cooper and his gentleman friend,
-as busy as bees, and there's the bell ringing and porters shouting,
-and everything hurry scurry. Away they go through the gate, and off
-goes the train; and if all that aint worth half a dollar I'd like to
-know what is."
-
-"You shall have the money," I said; "are you sure they both went away
-in the train?"
-
-"I'm sure they didn't comeback. I asked one of the porters what train
-that was. 'Train for Paris,' he said."
-
-"Did you see the man who went after them in the second cab?"
-
-"Never caught sight of him in the cab or out of it."
-
-"But you saw the gentleman who met Dr. Cooper at the hospital."
-
-"Of course I did."
-
-"Was there anything peculiar in his appearance that you noticed
-particularly?"
-
-"I noticed he had a red beard and mustache."
-
-"Did he wear spectacles?"
-
-"He had a pair of gold eyeglasses that he was continually putting on
-and off."
-
-"You have earned the money. Here it is."
-
-He took the half crown, bawled to the driver to stop, jumped out of
-the cab, and was off.
-
-At five minutes past ten my cab drew up at Ronald Elsdale's house. Bob
-had been expeditious, and was there before me; he had even found time
-to tell Ronald everything. He informed me of this as he himself
-admitted me into the house.
-
-"How did he take it?" I inquired.
-
-"Very quietly," Bob answered. "He did not interrupt me once, nor did
-he ask a single question. When I finished he said, 'I must write
-letters to my pupils, telling them that there must be an unavoidable
-interruption in their lessons for a short time----'"
-
-I did not follow Ronald's excellent example of listening quietly, but
-interrupted Bob excitedly. "For what reason?" I asked.
-
-"He intends to accompany us. I did not argue with him. When my nephew
-makes up his mind to a thing he is not to be turned from it. His
-mother is packing his bag now. I had no difficulty at your house. The
-maid showed me where your clothes were, and I bundled a lot of them
-into the Gladstone. Here is Ronald. Don't oppose him; it will be quite
-useless."
-
-"Good-morning, Mr. Emery," said the young man. "My uncle has related
-to me all the particulars of this strange affair, which we have not
-time to talk over now. You have heard of my intention to accompany
-you."
-
-"Yes."
-
-"I have taken it upon myself to send to my uncle's house for the poor
-child, Barbara, and she will go with us, too. She has no clothes for
-such a trip, I understand, but my mother has found a few things that
-will do for her, and when we are in Paris we can buy whatever else she
-requires. She will not be an additional expense to you; I will pay for
-her."
-
-"We can arrange that when we are on the road," I said, somewhat amazed
-at this unexpected addition to our party. "Do you really consider it
-necessary that she should accompany us?"
-
-"Otherwise," he replied, "I should not have ventured to send for her.
-Mr. Emery, we must not allow a chance to escape us; we must take
-advantage of everything that suggests or presents itself that is
-likely to assist us. I am blind; if Mr. Nisbet stood before me I
-should not know it. My uncle has not seen him; you are under the
-impression that you would be certain to recognize him, but there are
-thousands of men with red hair and gold eyeglasses. The only one of us
-who can be positive is Barbara."
-
-I saw that he was resolved, and that it would be useless to
-remonstrate. What struck me, also, was that he seemed already to have
-assumed the command of the expedition, and to have placed himself at
-the head of it. Undoubtedly he had the right to take the initiative,
-for if a foul deed had been committed it was the lady he loved who had
-been the victim.
-
-"Mr. Elsdale," I said, "I am satisfied with what you have done."
-
-"Thank you, Mr. Emery," was his response. "There is here a mystery to
-be solved, a horrible wrong to be righted, a criminal to be brought to
-the bar of justice. I do not pretend to say that in so short a time I
-have reduced to order the terrible suggestions and possibilities that
-have presented themselves to my mind, but a man's duty is before me,
-and I will perform it faithfully and inexorably. Mere worldly
-considerations do not weigh in the scale. Though I lived to be an old
-man with this mystery still unsolved, I would not relinquish it. I
-will pursue it unflinchingly to the end, if I walk the earth barefoot.
-To you has come a spiritual sign and a spiritual mandate, and, through
-you, it has come to me." He drew me aside. "Is the apparition that
-first appeared to you in that ill-fated house visible to you? Is it
-here with us in the room?"
-
-"It is not."
-
-"It will appear again; be sure that it will appear again; and when
-justice is satisfied it will disappear, and you will no longer be
-troubled by it." He turned to Bob, and included him in the
-conversation. "Another reason why it is necessary and right that the
-little girl, Barbara, should accompany us is that we go not only to
-seek Mr. Nisbet, but to seek her sister. The young woman may have
-fallen under the spell of Mr. Nisbet's evil influence; he may have
-made her his slave. If that is the case, the efforts of strangers like
-ourselves to enlist her on our side would be futile; the love she bore
-her sister may help us here."
-
-"You have entirely convinced me, Mr. Elsdale," I said, honestly and
-sincerely. "Little Barbara's aid may be invaluable to us."
-
-As I made this remark the child knocked at the door, and as the
-maid-servant admitted her, Ronald's mother entered the room and said
-that all was ready. I looked at my watch.
-
-"We have barely time to catch the eleven o'clock train," I said.
-
-"Wot d'yer want of me, sir?" asked Barbara, whose appearance denoted
-that she had been summoned from household duties, without having had a
-moment given to her to tidy herself.
-
-"We are going to take you for a trip, Barbara."
-
-"A trip! Where to, sir?"
-
-"To Paris, Barbara." The child gasped, and almost fell to the ground
-in her astonishment. "Don't be frightened. A brave little girl like
-you will be glad to see foreign countries."
-
-Ronald's mother was busy with the little girl, smoothing her hair and
-arranging her poor clothes. She had a child's mantle, which she put on
-the girl, and a hat which made her look quite presentable. It was
-surprising what a few skillful touches achieved in poor little
-Barbara's appearance.
-
-"Foring countries, sir!" she exclaimed, making no resistance to what
-was being done. "But I can't go, sir; I can't go! I must wait in
-London for Molly."
-
-"We are going to try and find Molly, my dear."
-
-"To find Molly! Oh--oh!"
-
-Her joy was so profound that she could not utter another word. And
-when Ronald Elsdale, after embracing his mother fondly, took Barbara's
-hand and led her to the door, she yielded unresistingly. Away flew the
-cabs, and landed us at the railway station just in time to catch the
-eleven o'clock train. It was fortunate that we had only hand baggage
-with us, or we should have missed it. Within a few moments of our
-seating ourselves in the carriage we were speeding to Dover pier.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXIV.
-
- WE ARRIVE IN PARIS.
-
-
-As we traveled to the sea I narrated what had occurred in my quest for
-Dr. Cooper, and was allowed to do so without interruption. Bob was
-unusually silent in the presence of his nephew and Barbara, and this
-silence was, as it were, enforced by himself. Several times he seemed
-to be on the point of interrupting me for the purpose of asking
-questions, and on each occasion he pulled up short and said nothing.
-Neither did Ronald speak much. It would have been natural had he made
-some observations upon the reason of Dr. Cooper's sudden departure in
-the company of Mr. Nisbet, and had he inquired whether I really
-believed the two men were traveling together. But respecting these
-matters he preserved absolute silence, and when he spoke it was upon
-any other subject than that of our all-engrossing mission. Barbara,
-also, had very little to say for herself--being altogether lost in the
-wonder of the adventure which was to introduce her to foreign
-countries--so we were not a very lively party as we were whirled to
-Dover. We were less inclined for liveliness when we were at sea, all
-of us, with the exception of Ronald, being prostrate and helpless, the
-passage being a bad one. With the earth beneath our feet we soon
-recovered, and were reconciled to life, though Barbara plaintively
-inquired if we couldn't get back another way. Her appearance attracted
-a great deal of attention to us, of which we took no notice, being too
-deeply occupied with our own affairs. We were only twenty minutes
-late, and before eight o'clock we alighted at the Hôtel de Bade, where
-we engaged rooms, keeping Barbara as much out of sight as possible.
-The first thing we did was to go out and purchase a suitable outfit
-for the child at an immense establishment, the "Old England," where
-everything in the way of dress could be obtained, and when she was
-arrayed in her attire she said she felt like a princess. Of course she
-was in a state of bewildered admiration at the lights of Paris, which
-she declared beat "a theayter," and I have no doubt she thought either
-that she was dreaming or taking a part in a ravishing fairy story.
-Upon our return to the hotel I found a telegram awaiting me from Mr.
-Dickson, from which we learned that Mr. Nisbet and a gentleman who had
-accompanied him from London were at the Hôtel Chatham. The last words
-of the telegram were, "Do nothing till you hear from me again. If you
-make open inquiries you may ruin all." This advice was sound but
-irritating, our mistaken impression being that by remaining idle, we
-were playing into the enemy's hands. There was nothing else for it,
-however; we were bound to wait for further information and
-instruction. We sent Barbara to bed early, and bade her not to leave
-her room in the morning till we called for her; then we went out and
-paced the bright boulevards. As we strolled and chatted Ronald
-suggested that we ought to ascertain for ourselves whether Mr. Nisbet
-and Dr. Cooper were at the Hôtel Chatham; he had become very restless,
-and we endeavored in vain to argue him out of the idea. We only
-succeeded in prevailing upon him to allow Bob to go alone to the
-hotel, and find some excuse for looking over the book of arrivals in
-the office for the names of Nisbet and Cooper.
-
-"Mr. Nisbet knows you," I said to Ronald, "and if he should see you we
-may as well return at once to England, for we shall have put him on
-his guard and have brought about our own defeat. He may also have some
-idea of my appearance, either from seeing me without my being aware of
-it, or from the description given of me by Dr. Cooper, and there would
-be danger in my going to make inquiries. Your uncle is the safest
-party; Mr. Nisbet can know nothing of him, and if they meet his
-suspicions will not be aroused."
-
-Bob went by himself to the Hôtel Chatham, not without inward
-misgivings, for he knew but a few words of French, and Ronald's
-assurance that the waiters and the managers could all speak English
-did not set him at his ease. However, he left us at the corner of Rue
-Daonou, making us promise not to wander away, in case he should not be
-able to find us upon his return, for he was distrustful of himself in
-the Paris streets, this being his first visit to the Continent. It was
-also my first visit, and I could not help thinking how poor a match
-for Mr. Nisbet Bob and I would have been without the assistance of
-Ronald Elsdale. Ronald was blind, it is true, but he could speak
-French and German fluently, and it was really he who guided us through
-the streets; he was familiar with every shop and building of note, and
-there was no fear of our losing our way in his company.
-
-Bob was absent fifteen minutes or so, and he came back with the
-information that the name of Mr. Oliver Nisbet was on the books as
-having arrived this evening, but that he could not find the name of
-Cooper.
-
-"Did you see anyone answering to their description?" asked Ronald.
-
-"No one," replied Bob.
-
-"All the better," I remarked.
-
-"Why?" said Ronald. "Do you suppose they have any suspicion that they
-are being followed?"
-
-"That is a question I cannot answer," I said, "though the probability
-is that Mr. Nisbet believes himself safe, or he would hardly have gone
-to so central a hotel as the Chatham; but it is certain that they are
-proceeding with some degree of caution, or the name of Cooper would
-have been found in the arrival book. Has any idea suggested itself to
-you that would be likely to explain the reason of Mr. Nisbet choosing
-Dr. Cooper as a companion?"
-
-"Many ideas have suggested themselves," answered Ronald, "of which I
-have not yet spoken; but we will follow this one out, to see if we
-agree. You paid a visit to Dr. Cooper on Sunday evening, and, as his
-wife said to you this morning, he let his tongue run too freely. Her
-remark proves that some conversation must have passed between them as
-to your visit, and that Dr. Cooper recalled--not very distinctly
-perhaps--what it was he said. My belief is that this conversation took
-place in the presence of a third party, who was chiefly responsible
-for it."
-
-"Of a third party!" I exclaimed.
-
-"The third party," continued Ronald, "being Mr. Oliver Nisbet, who
-visited the Coopers on the following night. He must have had some
-motive for this visit, for it is not likely--after what you learned
-from Dr. Cooper's lips of the feeling he entertained toward Mr.
-Nisbet--that this gentleman would have paid his accomplice a visit in
-which there was no direct motive. I speak of them as accomplices
-because there is no doubt in my mind on the point. Dr. Cooper was
-bribed to give a false death certificate, false for the reason that he
-was not in a position to give a true one, and for this service Mr.
-Nisbet paid him, and made promises (according to Dr. Cooper) which he
-did not fulfill. Whether these promises were or were not as Dr. Cooper
-hinted is of small moment in what we are discussing, the one thing
-certain being that Dr. Cooper labored under a sense of injury, and
-believed himself to have been wronged. It is more than probable that,
-in some way, Dr. Cooper conveyed this impression to Mr. Nisbet, and
-that he was aware of it. This must have occurred years ago, and
-shortly afterward Dr. Cooper loses sight of his employer, and has no
-means of communicating with him. If he had known where to write to him
-he would certainly have done so, in his state of poverty, and would
-most likely have thrown out some kind of threat. During this interval
-Mr. Nisbet keeps himself hidden from the man who has served him at a
-critical time; he has no use for him; all evidence of the crime (the
-nature of which has yet to be discovered) he has committed is
-destroyed, and there is only one person in the world who can throw the
-remotest suspicion upon him; that person is Dr. Cooper, and even he,
-if he dared take open action, would find himself implicated in the
-consequences. So matters rest for a considerable time, and we come now
-to the present. It is on Sunday only that you are informed by the
-private inquiry agent you employed that Mr. Nisbet had returned to
-London and was staying at the Métropole. Again crops up the hidden
-motive for his return. Was it to visit the house in Lamb's Terrace in
-which the crime was committed? Was it to seek Dr. Cooper for the
-purpose of obtaining his assistance in a fresh crime to be committed
-on foreign soil? Conjecture only will assist us here, for we know
-nothing; but conjecture, put to a logical use, may lead to the right
-conclusion. I assert that Mr. Nisbet's visit to London was expressly
-made either to go to Lamb's Terrace or to see Dr. Cooper; certainly
-for one of these reasons, perhaps for both. When you learn that he is
-in London you are on your way to Dr. Cooper's house; you find him; you
-have a singular conversation with him; you return home, and my uncle
-informs you of the discovery of the clothes he has found in the attic
-cupboard. That those clothes belonged to Beatrice and the servant
-cannot be disputed. On Monday morning, after my uncle leaves you to
-find a temporary home for poor little Barbara, you also leave the
-fated house several hours, and you take especial care to deposit the
-clothes in what you believe to be a place of safety; unfortunately, as
-it happened, in the place in which they were first discovered. Now,
-who knows of that place of deposit? You, my uncle, and Mr. Nisbet.
-During your absence Mr. Nisbet obtains easy admission to the house,
-goes straight to the attic cupboard, and bears away with him the
-garments which, by devious circumstantial evidence, might be a danger
-to him. While he is in the house some signs therein lead him to
-suspect that it is not absolutely untenanted, and he sets watch upon
-it in the night. Looking from the window of the room occupied by you
-and my uncle you see Mr. Nisbet standing in the garden in a watchful,
-observant attitude; and as he stands there the spectral monitor which
-has set this inquiry at work gives you a sign--an unmistakable sign
-from the spiritual throne of justice. Rank heresy or blind fatuity
-might misinterpret this sign; to you, to my uncle, to me, it is as
-clear as sunlight. It declared this man to be guilty of a horrible
-crime; it was like the writing on the wall. Satisfied or not, Mr.
-Nisbet leaves Lamb's Terrace, and goes to South Lambeth to see Dr.
-Cooper, of whose movements during the years that have passed he has
-had full knowledge. Mr. Nisbet is not only a dangerous man and a
-criminal, he is a man of resource and powerful intellect, and such a
-man leaves little to chance. Closeted with Dr. Cooper and his wife, he
-hears of your visit to him the previous evening; he worms out of his
-accomplice all that the man can recollect of your conversation with
-him; and he scents danger. Now, as I have said, whether he went to Dr.
-Cooper in the first instance to obtain his assistance in a fresh crime
-on foreign soil is hidden from us, but I am convinced that what he
-learns during this interview induces him to expedite his movements. He
-bids Dr. Cooper hold himself in readiness, and wins the wife's
-confidence by giving her money; thus they are both on his side. Were
-we and Dr. Cooper now in London you would worm nothing more out of
-him. Forewarned is to be forearmed, and his wife would see that he was
-not tampered with. When Mr. Nisbet leaves Dr. Cooper last night, he
-has not quite settled the order or time of his future movements, but
-considering the matter afterward he sees the advisability of getting
-out of England without delay. Hence his resolution to leave for the
-Continent this morning; hence his telegram to Dr. Cooper to meet him
-immediately for the purpose of catching the early train; hence the
-hurried and sudden departure, with the particulars of which we are
-acquainted. Have I made myself clear?"
-
-"Quite clear."
-
-"He does not suspect that he is being followed; he does not suspect
-that his departure is known; least of all does he suspect that I am
-taking part in the hunt. But at the same time he recognizes the
-necessity of caution, and that is why Dr. Cooper is traveling under an
-assumed name."
-
-A question was trembling on my tongue; it was whether, in the light of
-all that had been disclosed to him, the delusion he labored under with
-respect to Beatrice was now dispelled; but I feared to pain him, and I
-did not give utterance to the question.
-
-"Do you not think," he said, "that Mr. Dickson has been rather remiss
-in not giving you the name and address of the agent who traveled,
-unknown to Mr. Nisbet, from London with him?"
-
-"I wish he had done so," I replied, "for then we could have some
-conversation with him to-night, which might have been of service to
-us. The telegram he sent me is a long one, and perhaps I shall have a
-letter from him in the morning."
-
-This proved to be the case. In it Mr. Dickson acknowledged that it
-would have been as well if he had given me the name and address of his
-agent in his telegram; the name was Rivers, his address Hôtel
-Richmond. He had not heard from Mr. Rivers, he said, but when he did
-he would communicate to me everything the letter contained of any
-importance. I went at once to the Hôtel Richmond, which was not more
-than five minutes' walk from the Hôtel de Bade, and inquired for Mr.
-Rivers, and I took Ronald with me as interpreter, leaving Bob to look
-after Barbara.
-
-"M. Rivers?" said the waiter, "but he has departed."
-
-"When?"
-
-"This morning early. He slept but one night."
-
-"Do you know where he has gone?"
-
-"No, I do not know; I will ask the manager."
-
-The manager did not know. After his coffee and roll M. Rivers had paid
-his bill and given up his room. Did he leave in a cab? No, he left on
-foot, carrying his bag with him. Perhaps he went to a railway station?
-Ah, it was possible. Perhaps he was still in Paris. Ah, it was
-possible. If M. Rivers returned to the hotel, would the manager give
-him my card with a few words in pencil on it, asking him to come
-immediately to the Hôtel de Bade? M. Rivers should have the card, yes,
-with much pleasure. And so, good-morning.
-
-I half expected to receive a letter from my wife, demanding an
-explanation of my running away, but there was none for me.
-
-And now, nothing would satisfy Ronald but that Bob should go to the
-Hôtel Chatham, to ascertain if Mr. Nisbet was still there. He went and
-returned, we waiting for him as before at the corner of the Rue
-Daonou. Mr. Nisbet had left the hotel.
-
-"I spoke to a fool of a waiter," said Bob, "who thought he could speak
-English, and that is all I could get out of him."
-
-Ronald walked off at once to the hotel, and, knowing it would be
-useless to remonstrate, we followed him through the courtyard and into
-the office. There he entered into a conversation in French with a
-clerk. Yes, M. Nisbet and his friend had partaken of the usual first
-meal of the Frenchman, and had paid his bill and given up his room.
-Did they expect him to return? No, they did not. Had he and his friend
-occupied one room? Yes, a room with two beds. Did they leave on foot
-or in a cab? In a cab. For a railway station? Possibly. Did the clerk
-know for which railway station? He did not; he would inquire, if it
-was of importance. It was of great importance--would he kindly
-inquire. The _concierge_ was questioned. He did not know for which
-railway station. The waiters were questioned. They did not know for
-which railway station. And so, good-morning again. Thus were we left
-aground, as it were, with nothing but broken threads in our hands. Mr.
-Nisbet and Dr. Cooper had escaped us.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXV.
-
- WE COME TO A HALT.
-
-
-The indefinite replies to our questions at the two hotels rendered us
-helpless. It was not even certain whether the men we were pursuing had
-left Paris, and Bob privately threw out to me an uncomfortable
-suggestion that Mr. Nisbet might have discovered we were watching him,
-and was turning the tables by watching us. Ronald was not in hearing
-when this was said; he was in a state of extreme agitation; and we
-were careful to do or say nothing to excite him. Despite his
-perturbation, however, he was the only one of our party whose
-reasoning on the position of affairs was fairly logical, and who made
-a sensible attempt to arrive at a probable sequence of events. Sitting
-down in the courtyard of the Hôtel de Bade for the purpose of
-discussing matters, Bob and I proceeded to plunge them into further
-confusion by our wild conjectures, and Ronald, after listening to us
-in silence for a few minutes, brought us to order.
-
-"All this talk is useless," he said; "let us argue like reasonable
-beings. The first thing we have to decide is whether Mr. Nisbet and
-his confederate have left Paris. What is your opinion?"
-
-"I have none," I said.
-
-"I am in the same predicament," said Bob.
-
-"But we can be logical, at all events," said Ronald. "Compelled for a
-time to remain idle and in the dark, we can put flint and steel
-together in the endeavor to produce a light. I am inclined to the
-belief that they are no longer in the city. For what reason should
-they change hotels? Whatever may be the cause of their sudden
-association they would certainly wish to keep their movements quiet,
-and they would frustrate their wish by flitting from one hotel to
-another. From what I learned, Mr. Nisbet has paid frequent visits to
-Paris, and as his name appears frequently on the books of the Hôtel
-Chatham it is natural to suppose he has been in the habit of putting
-up there. If he had any fear that he was being followed, he would not
-yesterday have gone to an hotel where he was well known, but would
-have chosen another which was not in the center of the city, and where
-he would be less open to observation. The time they left the hotel
-favors the conclusion that they were bound for a railway station, and
-this conclusion is strengthened by the early departure of Mr. Rivers,
-whose occupations have made him more methodical than ourselves. We are
-apprentices in the craft; he is an expert. The inquiry agent in London
-has doubtless telegraphed him of our arrival here, and where we are
-staying--in which case he would have called upon us long before now.
-Yes, the tracked and the tracker are no longer in the city."
-
-"You have convinced me," said Bob, and I also recorded my conviction.
-
-"The point to determine is," continued Ronald, "for what place they
-are bound. No person in Paris can assist us. Our only hope is in Mr.
-Dickson. Let us wire to him at once."
-
-He and I went off straightway to the telegraph office, where we
-dispatched a message to Mr. Dickson. Bob remained in the hotel with
-Barbara, in order to receive a possible caller, who, it is needless to
-say, did not make his appearance. The answer to our telegram was that
-Mr. Dickson had received no information from his agent Rivers, that he
-had every confidence in his man, and that the moment he heard from him
-he would send us another wire. Meanwhile, we were to remain where we
-were, at the Hôtel de Bade. Nothing further reached us until nine
-o'clock at night, and then a welcome telegram, to the effect that the
-party were on their way to Lucerne, whither we had better follow them
-by the earliest train. "Put up at Hôtel National," were the concluding
-words of the message. Upon studying the railway trains we found that
-nothing was to be gained by starting in the night, and early the
-following morning we were on the road to Lucerne. At the Hôtel
-National a telegram from Mr. Dickson awaited us, instructing us to
-remain at the hotel until we heard from Mr. Rivers, whom we might now
-consider in direct communication with us, and before many hours had
-passed we received a note from that gentleman. "Take the boat" (wrote
-Mr. Rivers) "to Tell's Platte. I am stopping at the Hôtel-Pension zur
-Tellsplatte, and shall be happy to see you there. From, indications we
-have reached the terminus." This was agreeable news, and seemed to
-hold out the promise that we had at length tracked Mr. Nisbet down. We
-wasted no time, but took the first boat, and were presently steaming
-down the enchanting lake, the beauties of which perhaps only one of us
-thoroughly enjoyed, the little girl Barbara. "Oh," she sighed, "if
-Molly's 'ere, I don't wonder she never came back to London." It was
-three in the afternoon when we landed at Tell's Platte. We were in no
-mood for sightseeing, and did not therefore visit the chapel, but
-ascended the hill that led to the hotel, where we found Mr. Rivers
-waiting for us.
-
-He came forward to greet us, a short, wiry man, with clean-shaved
-face, browned with exposure to the sun, and a bright eye. He addressed
-me by name.
-
-"Mr. Emery?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"May I ask the name of the gentleman who is doing business for you in
-London?"
-
-"Mr. Dickson."
-
-"Have you anything you can show me from him?"
-
-I produced telegrams and letters, and he looked over them and returned
-them to me.
-
-"Quite right, sir. My employer told me there were four in your party.
-It is always necessary to make sure in such an affair as ours. We have
-a sharp gentleman to deal with, and there's no saying what tricks he
-might be up to, and what he knows or doesn't know. I am Mr. Rivers."
-
-As I shook hands with him, I started, and he looked at me
-suspiciously.
-
-"Anything the matter?" he inquired suspiciously.
-
-"No," I replied, "nothing, nothing."
-
-I introduced Ronald and Bob to him, and then Barbara.
-
-"I've a little girl at home," he said in a kind tone, laying his hand
-on Barbara's head, "just your age and build." Then addressing me, "I
-have arranged rooms for you here. Very moderate--six francs a day;
-they must make a reduction for the girl."
-
-"You anticipate that we shall remain here some time," I said.
-
-"Until the business is finished, I expect. I should have liked a more
-retired spot, and perhaps it would have been as well if there were not
-so many of you; but that can't be helped, I suppose. There is no other
-place we could all have stopped at, and as we are to work together we
-must keep together. I will show you your rooms, and after you have had
-a wash we gentleman will have a chat, while Barbara can run about and
-amuse herself. By the way, you will be asked for your names. Don't
-give your own; I haven't given mine; never throw away a chance."
-
-I must explain what caused me to start as I shook hands with Mr.
-Rivers. From the time we left London I had not seen the spectral cat,
-and I had an idea that it had taken its leave for good. But at that
-moment, casting my eyes to the ground, there was the apparition in
-full view. Much as it had troubled me during the first days of our
-acquaintanceship I had by this time grown accustomed to it, and no
-longer regarded it with fear and aversion. In stating that I was glad
-to see it now, I am stating the truth, for it was to me an assurance
-that we had "reached the terminus," as Mr. Rivers expressed it in his
-note, and that we had been led in the right direction.
-
-"Now we can have our chat," said Mr. Rivers, as we left the hotel
-together. "According to present appearances we have plenty of time
-before us, and nothing certainly can be done to-day. Whether anything
-at all can be done remains to be seen. Sometimes in an inquiry of a
-delicate nature we come to a block, and the next step depends entirely
-upon chance; it may be so in this case. I had best commence by telling
-you my position in the affair, and it will do no harm if I am quite
-frank with you. First and foremost, then, I am totally ignorant of
-what it is you wish to discover. My employer calls me into his private
-room, and gives me certain instructions. 'A gentleman has just arrived
-from the Continent,' he says, 'and is stopping at the Métropole. You
-will take him in hand, and keep close watch upon his movements. You
-are not to leave him a moment, and you are not for one moment to lose
-sight of him.' We generally hunt in couples when instructions like
-those are given, because it isn't possible for one man to keep watch
-day and night, so while I was in London on the job I had a comrade,
-and we divided the watch so that we could get some sleep. I asked my
-employer if the instructions were to be carried out to the strict
-letter. 'To the strict letter,' he answered. 'Suppose the gentleman
-suddenly goes abroad?' I asked. 'You are to follow him,' he answered.
-That was the reason of my sudden disappearance from London, without
-having had time to consult my employer. I went alone, without my
-comrade; I did not feel warranted in incurring double expenses, and I
-thought I could manage the affair by myself when we were out of
-England. I was right, as it has turned out. Mr. Nisbet is here with
-another gentleman, and has taken up his quarters in a house about two
-miles away, which he has inhabited on and off for several years."
-
-"Is that your idea of shadowing a man," asked Ronald, "when you are
-instructed not to lose sight of him for a moment and to keep close
-watch upon all his movements?"
-
-"Begging your pardon, sir," replied Mr. Rivers, not the least ruffled
-by the rather sharp manner in which the question was asked, "a man can
-do no more than his best, and I have done that. Then he must be guided
-by circumstances. Keeping a watch upon a man in London is one thing;
-keeping watch upon him in a village like this is another. There is no
-place in the world in which a man can lose himself so easily, if he is
-inclined that way, as London. I tell you, it's a difficult job to
-carry out properly, to keep your eye on a man in a large city, with
-its windings and turnings and crowds of people pushing this way and
-that. He gives you the slip when you least expect it, and there's the
-labor of days and weeks thrown away. It is quite a different matter
-here. A man comes and a man goes, and he can't keep his coming and
-going from the few people there are about. There are no cabs and
-omnibuses, no crowds to worry you and put you off the scent. When he
-moves from one spot to another he has to make preparations; he has to
-walk along unfrequented roads where he is in full sight of anyone
-interested in him. There are other drawbacks which one who knows the
-ropes has to reckon with. He can't keep watch here as he does in a
-large city; if he prowls and sneaks about, if he's seen haunting a
-particular spot for days, if he shadows a particular house and keeps
-his eye on it continually, he draws notice to himself. People ask what
-for? It comes to the ears of the man he's observing who, in turn,
-shadows him, and there's his apple cart upset. Another consideration.
-Strike a man in a street in London, and a crowd collects. Strike a man
-on the head here when he's prowling up and down a lonely road, and no
-one sees it. Down he goes like a stone, and he can be done to death,
-and his body hidden in a hundred holes--and who's the wiser? That
-couldn't well be done, I grant you, to man, woman, or child who lives
-here; the absence is remarked, and the relations don't rest till
-they've found out what has become of the missing one. It's different
-with a stranger, who stops a day or so, or a week or so, and then,
-without a word, disappears. So long as he's here the hotel keeper
-takes an interest in him, because of the bill; the moment he's gone
-he's forgotten, and it's make way for the next. I've been employed on
-some difficult jobs in my time, and I'm not sure that this is not
-going to beat the record."
-
-"What makes you think so?" inquired Ronald.
-
-"I don't like the looks of the gentleman for one thing," replied Mr.
-Rivers, "and for the second thing I don't like the little I've found
-out about him since I've been here. But that's running ahead of my
-story. I'll get back to the London part of it, and make a finish of
-that. I suppose that is necessary, for my employer has written to me
-to put myself into your hands entirely, and to tell you everything I
-know. Well, in London a remarkable thing happened. There's a house in
-Lamb's Terrace--79's the number--that is almost as lonely as any house
-round about us now. On the first day I shadowed Mr. Nisbet he paid
-three visits to Lamb's Terrace, and it was as much as I could do to
-keep myself out of his sight. I succeeded, though, because I was on my
-guard, and he never set eyes on me. The first visit he paid he did
-nothing more than reconnoiter; I put a reason to that. There happened
-to be an old man poking about the ground there for bits of rags and
-bones, and Mr. Nisbet didn't seem to relish his company. So, after
-reconnoitering ten or fifteen minutes, and as the old ragpicker didn't
-seem as if he was going to leave in a hurry, Mr. Nisbet cut his lucky,
-and walked out of the neighborhood. On his second visit there was no
-one in sight, and Mr. Nisbet, looking carefully around, took a key
-from his pocket, and let himself in. He remained in the house half an
-hour by my watch, and he came out with a bundle. There was something
-suspicious in that, I thought, but it was not my business to inquire
-into it. My instructions were clear, and I couldn't go beyond them.
-Besides, what call had I to tap the gentleman on the shoulder and say,
-'I'll trouble you to tell me what you have under your arm?' I should
-only have got myself in trouble, because our concern is a private one,
-and we haven't got the law to back us up. He took the bundle with him
-to the Métropole and left it there. He paid his third visit to Lamb's
-Terrace in the night, and this time he didn't go into the house. He
-didn't go to the front at all, but made his way to the back, and
-scrambled over the wall. He kept in the garden there, which is just
-choked up with weeds, for a precious long time, and all he did was to
-look up at the windows. I thought his going into an empty house in
-daylight and bringing out a bundle was queer, but I thought this last
-move a good deal queerer, for he kept quite still, and never took his
-eyes off the windows. When he'd had his fill he scrambled back over
-the wall and came away. From there he went straight to Theobald Row,
-South Lambeth, and knocked at the door of a chemist's shop kept by a
-doctor. The name over the shop window was Cooper. He stayed there an
-hour, and then returned to the Métropole. On the morning we left
-London I hadn't the ghost of an idea that he intended to start for
-Paris, and I followed him out of the Métropole to St. George's
-Hospital, outside of which he met the gentleman who has traveled with
-him to this place. I watched them pretty narrowly when we were on the
-steamer, but I didn't venture into the same carriage with them when we
-traveled by rail. On the steamer and in Paris, and wherever I could
-keep my eyes on them, they seemed pretty thick, and I fancied once or
-twice that they didn't quite agree with each other. Whenever they
-talked it was away from people, and I knew that it was not accidental
-that they should always choose spots where they couldn't be overheard.
-On those occasions I wouldn't risk discovery by going near them, but
-watched them from a distance, and once or twice I saw Mr. Nisbet look
-at his companion in a way that made me think, 'I shouldn't like to
-meet you on a dark road, my friend, and for you to know that I was
-shadowing you.' There was a cold glitter in his eyes which might
-easily mean murder, and that is what makes me say again to you,
-gentlemen, that we shall have to be very careful in what we do in this
-part of the world."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXVI.
-
- A GOOD NIGHT'S WORK.
-
-
-"Is that all you have to tell us," inquired Ronald, "of what came to
-your knowledge in London and on your journey here?"
-
-"That is all," replied Mr. Rivers.
-
-"Since you took up your quarters in this hotel what have you
-discovered?"
-
-"Nothing more than I have already told you--that Mr. Nisbet lives in
-a house about two miles away. I have been expecting your arrival, and
-my orders are that I place myself at your service. The command is in
-your hands now."
-
-"Have you seen the house?"
-
-"No."
-
-"From whom did you obtain your information?"
-
-"From one of the waiters here, who is ready enough to talk about
-everything and everybody in the place. I pumped him cautiously, and
-learned a lot that I didn't care to hear and a little that I did."
-
-"Do you speak French and German?"
-
-"I can just make myself understood, and the waiter can just make
-himself understood in English. He is anxious to know more of our
-language, as he intends to go to London and make his fortune, so I
-have been teaching him a bit. We are very good friends already,
-François and I."
-
-"Is that his name?"
-
-"I don't know; I call all foreign waiters François."
-
-"I suppose you have not discovered whether Mr. Nisbet lives alone?"
-
-"I haven't got as far as that; I thought it advisable to leave it to
-you gentlemen. It stands to reason that there must be someone in the
-house to do the domestic work. I have an idea, if you care to listen
-to it."
-
-"We will listen to everything that is likely to assist us."
-
-"This is likely to do so. François will wait upon us at dinner. One of
-you, Mr. Emery for choice--you have a solid look about you, sir, if
-you don't mind my saying so--is an hotel keeper in London, and when
-François gets to London, if you haven't a vacancy in your own
-establishment, you will be able to assist him to obtain a situation in
-another. That will be a sufficient bribe, and it will insure our being
-waited upon properly as long as we remain here."
-
-"I will play the part with pleasure," I said. "It is a good idea."
-
-So it was arranged, and at dinner François waited upon us with
-neatness and dispatch, having received a hint from Mr. Rivers as to my
-supposed vocation in London. In his hearing I dropped a hint or two
-which I perceived he caught up in praise of his politeness and
-dexterity, and I saw that, thus encouraged, he would be of service to
-us. He was also led to understand from our conversation that it was
-our intention to make a stay here of several days, and in this and
-other ways we endeavored to lead up to the success of our scheme. It
-would have been unwise, however, in my opinion, to make any sudden and
-specific inquiries respecting Mr. Nisbet; I felt that we could not
-proceed too carefully, and I determined to leave these inquiries till
-the following day.
-
-Meanwhile we had a difficulty with Ronald. Dinner over, he announced
-his intention of walking to Mr. Nisbet's house in our company, and it
-was long before we could dissuade him.
-
-"Why should I not go?" he asked.
-
-"Why should you go?" I asked in return. "You can do nothing until we
-have laid our plans. If it should happen that Mr. Nisbet sees you, all
-our labor is thrown away. It is right that the house should be
-reconnoitered without delay, but for us to do that in a body would be
-inviting defeat. Mr. Rivers and I will undertake this alone, and you
-must remain here with your uncle and Barbara."
-
-He consented unwillingly, and we were about to set forth when Barbara
-plucked my sleeve.
-
-"Well, my child?" I said.
-
-"If yer going to see Molly, sir," she said, with tears in her eyes,
-"won't yer take me with yer?"
-
-The fears that oppressed me with respect to her sister rendered this
-imploring appeal of solemn import.
-
-"We don't know that we shall see Molly, my dear," I said gravely. "We
-must look about us first before we can decide what to do. I am afraid
-Mr. Nisbet is not a good man, and we must be very careful. You must
-leave everything to us, Barbara."
-
-"Yes, sir, in course I must do that. But if yer _do_ see Molly, yer'll
-give 'er my love, won't yer, and arks 'er if I can come to 'er?"
-
-"If we see her, my dear, we will be sure to tell her all about you."
-
-"She _will_ be surprised, won't she, sir?"
-
-"Yes, Barbara, yes," I said, and I left her with a heavy heart.
-
-On the road it occurred to me that, in keeping Mr. Rivers in complete
-ignorance of the nature of our suspicions respecting Mr. Nisbet, I
-might be placing difficulties in our way, and weakening the assistance
-he was ready to give us. Therefore I enlightened him to some extent,
-being careful to make no mention of the supernatural visitants which
-had made me take up the matter.
-
-"What I have related," I said in conclusion, "is under the seal of
-confidence, and is not to be mentioned unless the mystery is brought
-to light. Just at this moment I confess to feeling dispirited; the web
-of conjecture is so slight that I am oppressed by the feeling that we
-may, after all, be following a will-o'-the-wisp, and that there is no
-ground for the suspicions that have led me on."
-
-"That is one way of putting it," observed Mr. Rivers, "but as you
-suspect that a crime has been committed, would it not be a relief to
-you to find that there is no ground for the suspicion?" I was at a
-loss to reply to this question, and he proceeded. "It may be due to
-the occupation I follow, but I generally place the worst construction
-upon these matters. If I were otherwise inclined, I should place the
-worst construction upon this, and my belief is that Mr. Nisbet has
-been guilty of nothing less than murder. Every circumstance in the
-case points to the conclusion, which is strengthened by the impression
-he has produced upon me. He is a man capable of any desperate deed, or
-I am no judge of character. I am obliged to you for the confidence you
-have placed in me; it certainly renders me less powerless in the
-assistance I may be able to render. I have a starting point, you see.
-Just at present there are two questions in my mind to which we must
-endeavor to find an answer. First, what has become of the girl Molly?
-I should know how to work her if I could lay hands on her. Second,
-what is the meaning of the association of Mr. Nisbet and Dr. Cooper?
-To their former association, when Mr. Nisbet and his stepdaughter were
-living in Lamb's Terrace, where the poor lady met her death, there is
-an absolutely plain answer. Mr. Nisbet wanted a death certificate from
-a doctor who was imperfectly acquainted with the facts, and he paid
-Dr. Cooper to supply it. This certificate being accepted at the
-inquest, and the body cremated, Mr. Nisbet was safe. In the absence of
-proof, of what practical value would mere suspicion be? He could snap
-his fingers at it. But the circumstance of his taking Dr. Cooper
-suddenly and unexpectedly from London, and of the doctor being in his
-house at this moment, puzzles me."
-
-"Mr. Nisbet requires his assistance again," I suggested.
-
-"That is the natural inference, and we have to discover the exact
-nature of this required assistance. If bold measures are necessary we
-must adopt them."
-
-"I am ready. Have you any theory as to Molly?"
-
-"I can think of more than one. The girl was young at the time of the
-lady's death; Barbara is by no means bad looking; Molly was pretty, I
-dare say; she was poor, she was ignorant; Mr. Nisbet may have taken a
-fancy to her----"
-
-I interrupted him. "No, Mr. Rivers, I cannot entertain the theory that
-Molly consented to become Mr. Nisbet's mistress."
-
-"I will not force it upon you," said he dryly, "but perhaps I am a
-better judge of human nature than yourself. However, we shall soon
-discover something; we shall not be kept long in the dark."
-
-We had little difficulty in finding the house inhabited by Mr. Nisbet,
-and its appearance deepened my apprehensions. In saying that we found
-the house I am not quite exact, for a high wall surrounded it, and
-only the gables could be seen. This wall was of surprising extent, and
-could have occupied not less than an acre of ground. It was of stone,
-and might have been built round a prison. We walked cautiously around
-it, keeping close in its shadow and prepared at any moment to stroll
-carelessly away in the event of an inmate issuing from either of the
-gates--one in the front, the other in the rear--which afforded ingress
-to it.
-
-Night had fallen, and there was no moon, so that we were comparatively
-safe from observation, but this did not make us less cautious in our
-movements. We were waging our silent battle with a wary foe, and to be
-taken unaware would be fatal to us.
-
-There was no other house near the building. At no great distance were
-towering ranges of rock and tree which intensified the gloom of the
-habitation. Retreating to a hillock we ascended it, and from that
-height perceived lights in some of the upper windows.
-
-"A pleasant residence," said Mr. Rivers, with a slight shiver. "One
-can imagine any deed of darkness being perpetrated within those walls.
-Hush! Don't move!"
-
-I saw the reason for the caution. The hill on which we stood faced the
-gate in the rear of the house, and as Mr. Rivers laid hold of me and
-whispered in my ear, this gate was slowly opened and a form issued
-from it. I could not at that distance distinguish whether it was the
-form of a man or a woman; what I could distinguish was that the figure
-paused a moment or two and seemed to peer within the grounds. Then,
-closing the gate with an appearance of caution, the figure came into
-the open, and limped away.
-
-"Step softly," whispered Mr. Rivers, and taking me by the hand we
-followed the figure, which we presently discerned to be that of an old
-woman, who walked as if she were lame. I stepped almost as softly as
-my companion, and we succeeded in approaching close to her without
-being observed. She was carrying something in her hands, covered with
-a white cloth. Night's shadows befriended us, and it was evident that
-the woman had no notion that she was being followed. Mr. Rivers did
-not speak, nor did I. We must have walked half a mile when the woman
-stopped before a wretched hut, which she entered without knocking.
-
-"We must see what she's up to," whispered Mr. Rivers. "She belongs to
-Mr. Nisbet's house, and has crept away in secret. It is my opinion
-we're in luck."
-
-Stealing round the hut we came to a window at the back over which
-there was no curtain, so that, although the glass was to some extent
-obscured by dust and mud, we could see what was passing within. On the
-ground lay a gaunt man, and by his side on a low stool sat a girl
-about twelve years of age, as nearly as I could judge. The girl had
-jumped up at the entrance of the old woman, but the man appeared to be
-too weak to raise himself. This was proved by the woman kneeling by
-him on one side and the girl kneeling by him on the other; by their
-united efforts they lifted him into a sitting posture, and then the
-woman removed the white cloth from the article she had carried from
-Mr. Nisbet's house; it was a large dish filled with food, and though
-she had come some distance the ascending steam proclaimed that it was
-still warm. The woman fed him with a spoon, and presently drew from a
-capacious pocket a bottle of red wine; he ate sparely, but he drank
-with avidity. When he had finished the girl partook of the food, and
-the eager way in which she ate reminded me of the night we found
-little Barbara in Lamb's Terrace. There was a pathos in the scene that
-touched me to the heart, but of course I could not hear what was said
-by the poor actors therein.
-
-We waited till the old woman left the hut; she took the empty dish and
-the white cloth with her. When she came out we followed her back to
-Mr. Nisbet's house, which she entered by the back gate, adopting
-similar precautions to those which had marked her departure from it.
-
-"A winning move," said Mr. Rivers in a tone of satisfaction as we
-retraced our steps to the Hôtel-Pension zur Tellsplatte.
-
-"In what way?" I asked, for though I was impressed by what I had
-witnessed, I did not at the moment see in what way it could be turned
-to our advantage.
-
-"The food and wine were stolen from Mr. Nisbet," replied Mr. Rivers,
-"and in that wretched hut we shall obtain the key to his house. We
-have done a good night's work."
-
-During our absence Ronald and Bob had not been idle. By promising
-François pecuniary assistance to enable him to reach the paradise of
-waiters, they had won him completely over, and he had disclosed
-everything he knew relating to Mr. Nisbet's domestic affairs, and to
-the estimation in which he was held. He was not in favor, it appeared;
-he kept himself aloof from everybody in the place, and lived the life
-of an eccentric and a recluse. Reputed to be rich, he had not been
-known to do a single act of kindness to the poor peasantry in the
-district. There had been an explosion in a mine, there had been a
-conflagration, a neighboring village had been inundated, and he did
-not contribute a franc to the relief of the sufferers. Some people
-declared that he possessed "the evil eye," and that he could "will"
-misfortune upon those who offended him. As for his establishment, it
-consisted of himself, a young female, who was said to be daft, and an
-old woman who acted as cook and general housekeeper. The old woman's
-name was Bernstein, the young woman's was not known. She had not been
-seen for years outside the walls of the house. When Mr. Nisbet went
-away Mme. Bernstein was left in charge of the establishment, and
-neither then nor at any other time was any person admitted inside the
-grounds. Food and wine were taken in at the gates, by the master
-himself when he was at home, by Mme. Bernstein when he was absent.
-This was the sum total of the information which had been elicited from
-François.
-
-After hearing this we related to Bob and Ronald our own adventure, and
-then we fell to discussing the next step to be taken, and Ronald urged
-that an endeavor should be made to obtain admission to the house.
-
-"It will be dangerous to attempt such a thing," said Bob, "while Mr.
-Nisbet and Dr. Cooper are there. François tells us that the master is
-sometimes seen out searching for herbs or specimens. If he continues
-the practice it is likely that Dr. Cooper will accompany him on these
-expeditions. Then will be the time."
-
-"My opinion is," I said, "that, before we attempt so bold a move, we
-shall win Mme. Bernstein over to our side."
-
-"I undertake to accomplish that," said Mr. Rivers, "and not later than
-to-morrow night. But first let us have François in. I should like to
-get something more out of him."
-
-François was summoned, and wine was ordered. When he brought the
-bottle in, Mr. Rivers held a conversation with him. Was he acquainted
-with Mme. Bernstein? No, he was not, but he had heard something of her
-brother. Ah, she had a brother? Yes, a poor fellow very near death's
-door, and without a sou in the world. She had a little niece also, the
-brother's child. Where did they live? He described the hut to which
-Mme. Bernstein had taken the food and wine. Was Mme. Bernstein kind to
-them? He did not know--he had not heard; nobody took any trouble about
-them; the child begged of passing tourists, but she got very little,
-not enough to keep body and soul together. François could tell us
-nothing more.
-
-Before we went to bed we decided to keep watch on Mme. Bernstein the
-next night, and to be guided by what occurred. Needless to say that
-Barbara was not present at this discussion. She was too young to be
-admitted fully into our confidence. We kept ourselves very quiet
-during the following day, and when night set in the four of us set out
-for Mr. Nisbet's house. Ronald insisted upon accompanying us, and we
-could not but submit.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXVII.
-
- A WORD WITH MME. BERNSTEIN.
-
-
-Nothing of importance happened on the way. We passed one or two
-stragglers who did not speak to us, and who, in the darkness of the
-night, could have seen very little of us; we, on our part, were more
-watchful, and though we exchanged but few words nothing escaped our
-attention. It behooved us to be thus careful, because there was the
-risk of our coming into contact with our common foes, Mr. Nisbet and
-Dr. Cooper. In silence we reached the gloomy wall which surrounded the
-building, and, marshaled by Mr. Rivers, took up our posts of
-observation. Rivers and I were together on the hill in the rear of the
-house, Ronald and his uncle were some dozen yards off. They were to
-keep their eyes on us, and to observe certain signals which had been
-arranged upon. Very nearly at the same moment as on the previous
-night, the gate was slowly opened, and Mme. Bernstein appeared,
-carrying a dish covered with a white cloth. She paused at the open
-gate, and peered this way and that, to make sure that she was not
-seen, and then she closed the gate softly, and proceeded in the
-direction of the hut. We followed her warily at a safe distance; she
-reached the hut and entered it, and gave the man and the child food
-and wine, Rivers and I watching them through the uncurtained window at
-the back of the hut.
-
-The meal finished, the old woman kissed the child, and issued from the
-hut. All her movements were in accordance with our anticipation, and
-this being so, a certain plan we had agreed upon was immediately acted
-upon. Ronald and his uncle remained behind, the intention being that
-they should make an endeavor to get into conversation with either the
-sick man or the child, or with both, and to extract from them some
-information of Mr. Nisbet's establishment which might assist our
-operations. Rivers and I played our part in the plan by following Mme.
-Bernstein. Midway between the hut and Mr. Nisbet's house Rivers nudged
-me, and we quickened our steps. Hearing the sound the old woman
-stopped, and we also stopped. After listening a moment or two she
-fancied she was deceived, and she hobbled on again, we following with
-rapid steps. Again she paused, and gave a scream as we came close to
-her. Putting his hand on her shoulder, Rivers said:
-
-"Do you speak English, Mme. Bernstein?"
-
-"Yes, a little," she replied, trembling in every limb. "Do not hurt
-me--I am an old woman; I have no money."
-
-"You speak English very well," said Rivers. "We will not harm you. It
-is only that we wish to have a word with you. We do not want money; we
-have money to give, if you would like to earn it. Do you understand?"
-
-"Yes, sir, I understand that you will not hurt an old woman, and that
-you have money to give."
-
-I ought here to explain that the English Mme. Bernstein spoke was by
-no means so clear and grammatical as I set it down, but I find myself
-unable to reproduce her peculiar method and idioms, and consider it
-best, therefore, to put what she said plainly before the reader. We
-understood each other, and that was the main point.
-
-"But it must be earned. Do not tremble so; we are not robbers; we are
-officers of the law. What have you under that cloth? A basin, empty.
-You took it from the house full. You can be punished for that, Mme.
-Bernstein. The master did not give you the food, he did not give you
-the wine. You stole them, Mme. Bernstein."
-
-Overcome with terror she fell upon her knees, and implored us to spare
-her; she had taken the food to save a little child from starvation;
-she had never done it before----
-
-Rivers interrupted her. "You do it every night, madame." Which plunged
-her into deeper despair.
-
-Still keeping her sensible that she was in our power, and that we
-would have her punished if she did not do as we bade her, Rivers
-succeeded in pacifying her to some extent.
-
-"There are four of us," he said, when she rose from the ground; "two
-are here, two are with your brother and his child, who without our aid
-will starve if you are put in prison or can no longer rob your master
-of food. It is with you, madame; you can save or ruin them, you can
-save or ruin yourself."
-
-"What is it that I shall do?" she quavered. "Tell me, and I will do
-it."
-
-"That is as it should be," said Rivers, "and you shall be rewarded. We
-must know everything about the master you serve. We are here from
-England for that purpose, and he must not be told that you have spoken
-with us. You will swear it by the cross which is hanging from your
-neck."
-
-She lifted the black wooden cross to her lips, and kissed it. "I swear
-it, sir," she said. "He shall not be told; he shall not know. But if
-you keep me here now he will discover it without being told. He will
-be waiting for supper, and I shall not be there to serve it. He will
-come and look for me, and then it will be ruin for me and you. He is a
-hard man, a bad man, a wicked man, and I hate him."
-
-"That pleases me," said Rivers blithely. "Why do you remain in his
-service?"
-
-"Should I not starve if I went away? I get my food, and I save it and
-give it to my dying brother and the little child. That is something.
-Do not keep me here too long. Englishmen are rich; you have a watch.
-What hour is it?"
-
-"Half past ten," said Rivers.
-
-"At eleven they have supper. If I am not in the house----"
-
-"You shall be there. Let us walk on, Mme. Bernstein. In ten minutes we
-shall reach the gate, and he will not know. Does he go to bed late?"
-
-"Sometimes at twelve, sometimes at one; it is not certain."
-
-"At what hour last night?"
-
-"At twelve."
-
-"Keep watch, madame, to-night, and when he goes to his room and the
-house is quiet, you will come out to us, and we will talk."
-
-"Yes, I will come."
-
-"By the back gate, madame; we shall be on the hill. Do not forget--you
-shall be rewarded, And do not forget that you have sworn upon the
-cross. Here, to commence with, are two francs, to prove that we are in
-earnest, and are men of our word."
-
-She clutched the coins eagerly, and said in a whisper: "We are near
-the house--do not speak loud, or he will hear us. There is something
-strange and terrible. You shall be told of it. I will come when they
-sleep."
-
-We did not accompany her to the gate. She glided forward, opened it
-quietly, and disappeared.
-
-"Now, Mr. Emery," said Rivers, "can you find your way alone to the
-hut?"
-
-"Yes, it is a straight road."
-
-"Go, and bring your friends here. There is strength in numbers.
-Something strange and terrible, she said. We have not come a moment
-too soon. Hurry back quickly."
-
-I wasted no time, and soon reached the hut. Ronald and Bob were
-within; I heard them talking to the little girl. When I tapped at the
-door and called to them, they joined me immediately, and hearing that
-they were to return with me they spoke a few parting words to the
-child, and promised to call and see her again. I briefly related what
-had passed between ourselves and Mme. Bernstein, and asked if they had
-obtained any information.
-
-"None," replied Bob, "that is likely to assist us. Some general
-expressions of dislike toward Mme. Bernstein's employer, of whom they
-seem to stand in some sort of fear--that is all. Neither the man nor
-the child has ever been inside the house. But we made friends with
-them, and that might have served us with Mme. Bernstein if you had not
-already enlisted her. Everything seems to depend upon what will occur
-during the next twenty-four hours."
-
-We found Rivers lying on his back on the hill, with his hands clasped
-behind his head.
-
-"I have been watching the windows," he said, "and making a mental map
-of the house. All the bedrooms seem to be situated at the back; the
-ordinary living rooms are in front. See--there is a light in only one
-of the rooms; there was a light in that room last night. It burns
-steadily, and without flickering; the room is occupied, but no shadow
-has appeared on the blind, nor has the light been shifted. Someone is
-sleeping there, and sleeping undisturbed. If we stopped here till
-daylight we should probably find that light still burning. Afraid to
-sleep in the dark, denoting a nervous organization. Ah, observe. Two
-rooms have just been entered; each person, entering, carried in a
-candle with him; the lights shift and waver; there are shadows on the
-blinds. One is the shadow of Mr. Nisbet, the other the shadow of Dr.
-Cooper; their bedrooms adjoin. Rather restless those shadows. We have
-the advantage of them; we can see them, they cannot see us lying here
-in black darkness. I am in my element, and can work out theories. I
-have done the same in country places in England, and the theories I
-have worked out there have led to very useful conclusions. Isn't there
-a German or French story of a man who sold his shadow to the devil? I
-can imagine occasions when our friend Mr. Nisbet would gladly sell
-his, for shadows are sometimes criminating witnesses. Those men do not
-seem in a hurry to get to bed. One has gone into the other's room; the
-flaring of the candle shows that he has left his door open. The
-shadows of the two men are now in one room. They walk up and down in
-their slippers--of that you may be sure. There is something so secret
-and mysterious going on in the house--which might be a prison or a
-private lunatic asylum--that the principal conspirators are careful to
-make no noise. They have no wish to disturb the sleeper in the third
-room, which, by a stretch of the fancy, we might suppose to be
-occupied by a dead person. By the way, did Dr. Cooper have time to
-bring his slippers with him from London? I should say not; therefore
-he is wearing a pair of Mr. Nisbet's or is walking in his stocking
-feet. Now they stop, now they walk about again, and now--yes, now they
-go into the room which the first man left. Science has been busily at
-work of late years, but it has not yet discovered a means of bringing
-sound to our ears as this glass which I am holding brings the figures
-of those men near to my eyes. There is the telephone, but you cannot
-carry a telephone about with you in a little pocket case. I dare say
-the discovery will be made one of these days. Mr. Nisbet is a couple
-of inches taller than Dr. Cooper, and as they are now standing quite
-still I know which is one, and which the other; therefore I shall
-presently know which is Mr. Nisbet's bedroom, and which Dr. Cooper's.
-If we could only hear what they are saying to each other! Speaking in
-whispers, of course--again for the reason that they do not wish to
-disturb the sleeper in the third room. Mme. Bernstein will inform us
-who it is who sleeps there. What do you say--a man or a woman?"
-
-The question was addressed to us, and we expressed our inability to
-answer it.
-
-"I say a woman," continued Rivers, who was certainly in his element,
-as he had declared, "and until Mme. Bernstein favors us with her
-company we remain in ignorance as to who the woman is. Our little
-Barbara's sister? Perhaps. But Barbara describes her sister as being a
-lively young person, and no lively young person lies sleeping there.
-How do I arrive at that conclusion? Impossible to say. Mental
-cerebration, if you like. We work out plots as novelists do, or
-rather, they work out themselves. Concentration is the agent. The same
-process leads me to the conclusion that the conspirators yonder are
-walking and talking noiselessly because of their fear of being
-overheard. The same process leads me to the conclusion that they are
-quietly discussing an important and dangerous matter. How did Mr.
-Nisbet's stepdaughter meet her death? Asphyxiation caused by an escape
-of gas while sleeping in a bedroom almost hermetically sealed. But
-there is no gas in these parts, and their light is supplied by oil and
-candle. Therefore they are deprived of that means of causing death.
-What are they doing now? The shorter of the two, Dr. Cooper, holds
-something up to the light. The object is too small to be discerned at
-this distance, but I take it to be a vial. Not a wine bottle, nor a
-bottle containing brandy or whisky. A small vial. And now Mr. Nisbet
-hands his co-conspirator a wineglass; he holds that up also; the
-shadow is reflected on the blind, and you can see by the shape that it
-is not a tumbler. The vial in one hand, the wineglass--it may be a
-medicine glass--in the other, Dr. Cooper is pouring a few drops from
-the vial into the glass. He counts the drops; I can't see his lips
-move, but unless I am dreaming he is counting the drops. He puts down
-the vial, and Mr. Nisbet takes the glass from him. To drink? No. He
-dips his finger into the liquid, and puts that finger to his lips. He
-stands still a while; he is deliberating. Is it satisfactory, Mr.
-Nisbet? If it is, and you need a sleeping draught, drink it off, and
-wish your companion good-night. You do nothing of the kind. You come
-to the window; you draw aside the blind; you open the window."
-
-"We shall be seen," whispered Bob, in great alarm.
-
-"We are as safe," said Rivers calmly, "as if we wore caps that
-rendered us invisible, as in the fairy tale. As they stand side by
-side at the window, the position of the light enables me to see them
-clearly. They _are_ Mr. Nisbet and Dr. Cooper. Provoking! What is it
-that Mr. Nisbet has just done? Why did you move, you fool of a doctor?
-But I guess what he did. He emptied the glass out of the window. Of
-course, of course; that was it. They have been making a chemical
-experiment, testing a liquid--to what end? Mr. Nisbet peers into the
-dark grounds, he stares straight at the hill upon which we are lying.
-Don't stir a finger. It is curious that criminals almost invariably
-overlook some slight circumstance which supplies the clew to their
-conviction. It has been so in thousands of cases. The window is
-closed, the blind is pulled down. See the shadows of the men as they
-approach and retreat, growing to monstrous proportions, dwindling to
-nearly natural size. The shadows of Fate. I suppose by this time the
-conference is at an end. It is. They separate. Each is in his own
-room. Ah, I see which room is occupied by Mr. Nisbet, and which by Dr.
-Cooper. The doctor gets into bed first. Out goes his light. Sleep the
-sleep of the just, doctor, if you can. Mr. Nisbet lingers; his is the
-greater stake. He is the principal, his companion is the tool. Take
-care, the pair of you; the dogs are on your track. Mr. Nisbet puts out
-his light; all the windows are masked except the window of the third
-room. Good-night, good-night."
-
-These ingenious theories filled me with wonder, and I accepted them as
-if they were proved testimony; and I am positive, from the remarks
-made by Bob and Ronald, that they also accepted them as I did. Rivers
-chuckled, and said:
-
-"It is a fine art, and we become masters only by long study. Now for
-Mme. Bernstein. She will not keep us waiting long."
-
-She did not. In a few minutes the gate was opened, and the old woman
-appeared.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXVIII.
-
- MME. BERNSTEIN REVEALS.
-
-
-Rivers went forward to meet her, and taking her hand, led her to where
-we were standing. Dark as it was I saw that she was greatly agitated,
-and the increase of our party did not lessen her agitation.
-
-"You perceive," Rivers commenced, "that it is as I said. There are
-four of us, and we are determined to know the truth about your master
-and what is going on in that gloomy house, which, as I just remarked
-to my friends, resembles a prison."
-
-"I will tell you everything," said Mme. Bernstein, her voice shaking
-with fear. "Why should I not, when you have promised to reward me? I
-have done nothing wrong."
-
-"Do not speak so sharply to her," said Ronald to Rivers; "you frighten
-her." Then he turned to the old woman, and spoke to her in French, and
-his manner was so kind and his voice so gentle that she soon forgot
-her fears. "You shall be well rewarded," he said to her; "I promise
-you on the honor of a gentleman. We have left a little money with your
-brother and his pretty little girl, and to-morrow we will send a
-doctor to see him. If it were day instead of night you would know that
-I am blind, and you would trust me."
-
-"I trust you now, sir," said Mme. Bernstein. "But this
-gentleman"--indicating Rivers--"speaks to me as if I had committed a
-crime. I will answer you anything. It is because I am poor that I have
-served M. Nisbet, and if I have taken a little bit of food for my
-dying brother and the child I hope you will protect me from the anger
-of M. Nisbet. He is a hard man; he would have no mercy."
-
-"We will protect and befriend you," said Ronald. "Have no fear. My
-friends here do not understand French very well, so we will converse
-now in English. Express yourself as well as you can; we all wish to
-hear what you have to say, and we all are kindly disposed toward you.
-Mr. Rivers, you are so much more experienced than ourselves that the
-command must be left in your hands, but I beg you to moderate your
-tone when you address madame."
-
-"With all the pleasure in life," said Rivers cheerfully. "Bless your
-heart, madame, you need not be frightened of me; if I speak sharp it's
-only a way I've got. Don't you take any notice of it, but begin at the
-beginning, and go straight on. How long have you been in service
-here?"
-
-"Ever since M. Nisbet first came," replied Mme. Bernstein. "It is
-years ago--I don't know how many--and he bought the house, and wanted
-a woman to look after it. When he goes away to England or France I
-attend to everything." She stopped here, as if at a loss how to
-proceed.
-
-"We shall get to the bottom of things all the quicker," said Rivers,
-"if I ask you questions. Has there been any other person besides
-yourself in Mr. Nisbet's service?"
-
-"No one else--it is I alone who have served him."
-
-"Does he live here alone?"
-
-"Oh, no. When he first came he brought a lady with him."
-
-"And she is still in the house?"
-
-"Oh, yes; she is still in the house, poor lady!"
-
-Instinctively we all turned our eyes to the window which Rivers had
-declared to be the window of the room occupied by a lady--even
-Ronald's sightless eyes were turned in that direction.
-
-"That is her bedroom?" Rivers asked.
-
-"Yes, it is there she sleeps."
-
-"Hold hard a bit," he cried. "She is awake."
-
-The occupant of the room had moved the light, and we saw her shadow on
-the blind. We looked up in silence, expecting that something strange
-would occur. I cannot explain the cause of this impression, but in
-subsequent conversation with my companions they confessed that they
-had experienced the same feeling of expectation as myself. What did
-occur was this: The blind was pulled up, and the window opened, and by
-the window stood a female figure in a white nightdress, stretching out
-her arms toward us. It was not possible that she could see us, but her
-imploring attitude seemed like an appeal to us to save her from some
-terrible danger, and it powerfully affected me.
-
-I put my finger to my lips, to warn Bob and Rivers against uttering
-any exclamation of surprise, and I placed myself in such a position
-that Mme. Bernstein could not see what we saw. Presently the female's
-arms dropped to her side, and she sank upon a chair by the window, and
-sat there while Rivers continued his examination.
-
-"Why do you say 'poor lady'?" asked Rivers. "Is she suffering in any
-way?"
-
-"She is much to be pitied," replied Mme. Bernstein. "So young and
-beautiful as she is!"
-
-"But explain, madame. You speak in enigmas. Does your master oppress
-her? Is he cruel to her?"
-
-"I do not know. She does not complain, but I would not trust him with
-a child of mine."
-
-"Is she his child, then?"
-
-"Oh, no; but he has authority over her. He has never struck her, he
-has never spoken a harsh word to her; still I would not trust him."
-
-"We shall get at it presently, I suppose," said Rivers impatiently.
-"What is the lady's name?"
-
-"Mlle. Mersac."
-
-"Her Christian name?"
-
-"I have not heard it, all the years I have been in the house. There
-was no reason why I should hear it. Mlle. Mersac--is not that a
-sufficient name?"
-
-"It must content us for the present. If she is not his daughter she is
-doubtless some relation?"
-
-"It cannot be--he has himself declared that she is not. I ventured one
-day--it is now a long time ago--to ask him, and he answered me
-angrily, and bade me attend to my duties, and nothing more. He
-repented a little while afterward; and came to me and inquired why I
-had put the question to him. 'It was a thought, sir,' I said. 'Can you
-see any likeness between us?' he asked. I answered no, and there is no
-likeness. She is fair, he is dark; there is not the least resemblance
-between them."
-
-"May we say that she is afflicted?"
-
-"Sorely afflicted. She has no memory, she seems to have no mind. From
-one day to another she cannot recollect. Each day is new to her; she
-has no memory. Even her own name is strange to her. When my master is
-here I see her only in his presence, and am not allowed to speak to
-her. When he is absent I see more of her; it is necessary; she has no
-one else to attend to her. But even then she utters but a very few
-words. Once only did we have a conversation while the master was away.
-It was against his commands, but I could not help it. He gives his
-orders what I shall do during his absence, and I am to do those
-things, and nothing more. To give her her meals, to give her her
-medicine, not to allow her to pass the gates. For years she has not
-been outside those walls."
-
-"You are wandering, madame. Once you had a conversation with her.
-Inform us what was said."
-
-"I pitied her, and asked her whether she had no friends she wished to
-see. 'Friends!' she said, and looked at me wonderingly. 'The world is
-dead!' I could have shed tears, there was such misery in her voice. I
-addressed her by her name. 'Mersac!' she exclaimed. 'Who is Mlle.
-Mersac?' 'But, mademoiselle,' I said, 'it is yourself.' 'Are you sure
-of that?' she asked. 'Why, yes,' I answered, 'it is certain.' She
-shuddered and said, 'I had dreams, I think, when I was a child, but I
-am an old woman now.' 'Mademoiselle,' I cried, 'you are young, you are
-beautiful!' 'It is you who are dreaming,' she said, 'I am an old
-woman. The world is dead. This house is my tomb!' That is all that
-passed; she would not speak another word. If I had dared, if I had not
-been poor and had known what to do and how it was to be done, I would
-have tried to find her friends, for what hope of recovery is there for
-her in such a place as this? For me who have not long to live---I am
-seventy-five--it does not matter. I have lived here all my life, and I
-shall die here; there is no other place for me to die in, and I am
-content that it should be so. But even I had my bright years when I
-was a young woman. I had a lover, I had a husband, I had children;
-they are all dead now, and but for my dying brother and his little
-girl I am alone. I was not so beautiful as mademoiselle; I was not a
-lady as she is. That is plainly to be seen. At her time of life she
-should be bright and happy; she should have a lover; she should have
-friends, companions. They might wake her up, for though she is not
-dead she might as well be."
-
-The old woman spoke very feelingly, and I patted her on the shoulder.
-
-"Thank you," she said, as though I had bestowed a gift upon her.
-
-"She is a French lady?" questioned Rivers.
-
-"Oh, no; she is English."
-
-"English! But her name is French."
-
-"It may not be hers. She is perhaps sent here to be forgotten. It is
-sad, very sad!"
-
-"Apart from this loss of memory, from this forgetfulness of herself,
-is she in health?"
-
-"She is strong, she is well otherwise. It is only her mind that is
-gone. She gripped my hand once; it was the grip of a strong young
-girl. She is lithe, she is well formed. If I had been like her when I
-was her age I should have been proud. I brought some flowers to the
-house one day. 'Who are these for?' my master asked. 'I thought
-mademoiselle would like them,' I answered. He frowned, and taking them
-in his hands crushed them and threw them to the ground. 'That is not
-part of your duties,' he said. I brought no more flowers. There are
-some strange things, some things I cannot understand. Do you come to
-help the poor lady? Are you related to her?"
-
-"We are not related to her, but we will help her if it is in our
-power."
-
-"Heaven will reward you for it."
-
-"What do you mean by saying there are strange things, things you
-cannot understand?"
-
-"For one--why does the master say she will not live, when, but for her
-loss of memory, she is strong and well?"
-
-"Oh, he says that, does he?"
-
-"Yes, and he has brought a friend with him now, a celebrated doctor,
-because, as I heard him say, she is sinking. What does that mean?"
-
-"Ah," said Rivers, in a significant tone which we understood, "what
-does that mean, indeed? It means mischief, Mme. Bernstein."
-
-"It is what I think. Now I have opened my heart I do not care what
-happens to me. This celebrated doctor that he has brought from England
-with him is no better than my master is. They are a pair. But what can
-she do against them alone?"
-
-"She is no longer alone, madame," said Ronald, with a strange
-earnestness in his voice. "The lady is beautiful, you say. Very fair?"
-
-"As fair as a lily, sir."
-
-"You can tell me the color of her eyes."
-
-"They are blue as a summer sky, and there is sometimes a light as
-sweet in them."
-
-"What would be her age, in your opinion, madame?"
-
-"Not more than twenty-four, and though she suffers so, she sometimes
-looks like a maid of eighteen."
-
-"When your master is absent he leaves medicine for her to take? He
-places this medicine in your charge? Is it a liquid?"
-
-"It is a liquid."
-
-"And its color, madame?"
-
-"White."
-
-"Is it clear? Has it a sediment?"
-
-"It is perfectly clear, like water?"
-
-"How often does she take it?"
-
-"Once every day, in the evening."
-
-"Does she take it willingly?"
-
-"Quite willingly."
-
-There was a brief silence here, and I observed Ronald pass his hands
-across his eyes. It was he who was asking these questions, and Rivers
-did not interpose.
-
-"Mme. Bernstein, did you ever taste this medicine?"
-
-"Ah, sir, you make me remember what I had forgotten. I am old; forgive
-me. It was this, also, that was in my mind when I said there were
-strange things I could not understand. It happened two years ago.
-Mademoiselle had left nearly half the dose in the glass, and had gone
-to bed. I took it up and tasted it; it was as water in my mouth,
-and--I do not know why--I drank what remained. 'It is not likely to
-harm me,' I thought, 'for it does not harm mademoiselle.' I went to
-bed and slept soundly. In the morning when I awoke it was with a
-strange feeling. I had some things to do; I could not remember what
-they were. I dressed myself and sat in my chair as helpless as a babe.
-The clock struck more than once, and still I sat there, trying to
-think what it was I had to do. At last the clock struck twelve, and I
-started to my feet, as though I had just woke out of a waking sleep,
-and went about my work as usual."
-
-Ronald did not continue his questions; his attention seemed to be
-drawn to another matter; his head was bent forward, in the attitude of
-listening.
-
-I do not recollect what it was that Rivers said at this point, but he
-had spoken a few words when Ronald cried:
-
-"Be silent!"
-
-His voice was agitated, and the same feeling of expectation stole upon
-me as I had experienced before the female in her white nightdress
-opened her bedroom window and stretched out her arms toward us.
-
-"Mme. Bernstein," said Ronald then, "the young lady we have been
-speaking of is a musician."
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"She plays in the night sometimes."
-
-"I have heard her, sir, on two or three occasions."
-
-"The instrument she plays on is the zither."
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"She is playing at the present moment."
-
-"If you say so, sir. My hearing is not so good as yours."
-
-"It is Beatrice who is playing," said Ronald, and his tone now was
-very quiet. "I knew she was not dead, and that we should meet again."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXIX.
-
- DR. COOPER IS IMPRESSED.
-
-
-These startling words caused us to throw aside the restraint we had
-placed upon our movements. We darted forward to the gate, from which
-spot we could just catch the faint sounds of music. The truth burst
-upon me like a flash of light. The mystery of Beatrice's supposed
-death was made clear to me, and the unspeakable villainy of which Mr.
-Nisbet was guilty was revealed. But alas for poor Barbara, who was
-eagerly waiting to embrace her sister Molly!
-
-Mme. Bernstein joined us at the gate, and cautioned us to be careful
-not to speak aloud. We removed to a safe distance, and were about to
-discuss our plans and decide upon our course of action when Ronald
-settled the matter for us.
-
-"Mme. Bernstein," he said, addressing her, "the lady is a dear friend
-of mine; she was to have been my wife. A foul wrong has been done to
-her, and Providence has directed our steps here to save her. We must
-enter that ill-fated house to-night."
-
-"To-night!" she exclaimed.
-
-"Now--this moment," said Ronald, with decision.
-
-"But the danger----"
-
-"We are four men to two," said Ronald. "If I place my hands on one of
-the monsters I will account for him, blind as I am. We are armed, and
-no danger threatens us. An innocent lady's life is in peril; she lies
-at the mercy of wretches who have no heart or conscience, and a
-moment's delay may be fatal. You shall be well paid for the service,
-madame----"
-
-"It is not that I shall be well paid," she interrupted. "I have a
-heart, I have a conscience. It is because the master is a dangerous
-man. But you shall have your way; the Just God will help you. Tread
-softly; make no noise."
-
-"Mr. Elsdale is right," whispered Rivers to me as we followed Mme.
-Bernstein. "Strike the iron while it's hot. There's a surprise in
-store for two scoundrels to-night."
-
-We succeeded in making our entrance without awaking the enemy.
-
-"What now shall be done?" asked Mme. Bernstein.
-
-Ronald answered her. "Mlle. Mersac--it is not her name, but that
-matters little--has no aversion to you, madame?"
-
-"None, none," she replied eagerly.
-
-"You will go to her room, and remain with her till you hear from us.
-If she is awake, encourage her to sleep. She must know nothing till
-daylight. Should it be needed call to us for assistance."
-
-"Yes, yes."
-
-"You will show us the rooms in which your master and his friend from
-London sleep, and you will then leave us." Ronald turned to us. "I and
-my uncle will keep watch outside Mr. Nisbet's door; if he comes out to
-us I shall know how to deal with him. You, Mr. Rivers and Mr. Emery,
-will introduce yourselves to Dr. Cooper, and endeavor to force a
-confession from him. If he will not speak--well, you are a match for
-him. Bind him, so that he shall be unable to move; then join us, and
-we will make Mr. Nisbet secure. He must administer no more stupefying
-drugs to his stepdaughter; his power over her is at an end. Have you
-any objection to my plan, Mr. Rivers?"
-
-"None. It is the best that can be adopted. Let us set about it."
-
-With noiseless footsteps we ascended the stairs to the sleeping
-apartments, Mme. Bernstein leading the way. She pointed out the rooms
-to us. "That is the master's; that is his friend's." Then she left us,
-and went to Beatrice's room. Bob and Ronald took their station outside
-Mr. Nisbet's door and I observed that Bob held his revolver in his
-hand. No indication reached us that we had disturbed the inmates.
-
-"It is our turn, now," Rivers whispered to me. "I think I know how to
-manage our customer."
-
-He tried the door, and finding it locked, smiled as he said, "Locks
-himself in. Doesn't trust his host. A good sign." He did not knock,
-but kept fumbling at the handle, in order to attract Dr. Cooper's
-attention. Presently succeeding, we heard the doctor get out of bed.
-
-"Who is there?" he asked softly, his ear at the door.
-
-"Let me in," Rivers replied, in a whisper. "I have something to say to
-you. Why do you lock your door?"
-
-Had Rivers spoken above a whisper Dr. Cooper would have detected him,
-but whispers are very much alike, and it is not easy to distinguish a
-man's voice by them.
-
-"Wait a moment," said Dr. Cooper from within. "I will strike a light."
-
-This accomplished, he opened the door, which, as we glided in, Rivers
-quickly closed and locked. Dr. Cooper had retreated from the door, and
-stood, holding the candle above his head. With an exclamation of alarm
-he let the candle slip from his hand, and we were in darkness.
-
-"What a clumsy fellow you are!" exclaimed Rivers in a jocose tone.
-"Light it again, Mr. Emery. I have got Dr. Cooper quite safe."
-
-And I saw, when I had picked up the candle and lighted it, Dr. Cooper
-standing quite still, with his arms pinned to his sides from behind by
-Rivers. I placed the candle out of the doctor's reach, and Rivers
-released him.
-
-Dr. Cooper was in his nightshirt, and presented anything but a
-pleasant picture. Rivers, on the contrary, had an airy lightness about
-him which was new to me. His eyes shone, and he rubbed his hands
-together, as if he were taking part in a peculiarly agreeable
-function. On a table by the bedside were a glass and a bottle of
-whisky, half empty. Rivers put the bottle to his nose.
-
-"Scotch," he said. "I always drink Scotch myself."
-
-"Who are you?" Dr. Cooper managed to say. "What do you want?"
-
-"All in good time, doctor," replied Rivers. "It's no good commencing
-in the middle of the game. You haven't the pleasure of my acquaintance
-yet, but you know this gentleman."
-
-"I have seen him once before," said Dr. Cooper, with a troubled glance
-at me.
-
-"And I am positive you must have enjoyed his society. He proves that
-he enjoyed yours by his anxiety to renew the intimacy. He is a private
-gentleman, I am a private detective, and we have come a long way to
-see you. But you will catch cold standing there with only your shirt
-on. Will you get into your clothes or into bed before we have our
-chat. You would like to dress? You shall. Softly, softly. I will hand
-you your clothes, taking the precaution to empty your pockets first."
-
-"By what right----"
-
-"Steady does it, doctor. If you talk of rights we shall talk of
-wrongs. That's a sensible man. On go the trousers, on goes the
-waistcoat, on goes the coat, and we're ready for business. Now, how
-shall it be? Friends or foes? You don't answer. Very good. We'll give
-you time. Take a chair, and make yourself comfortable. No, doctor, no;
-don't take your whisky neat; as an experienced toper myself I insist
-upon putting a little water into it. And we'll pour half the spirit
-back into the bottle. Moderation and economy--that's the order of the
-day. You can't make up your mind to speak. Very well; we'll see if we
-can loosen your tongue. _I_ intend to make a clean breast of it, and
-you may feel disposed presently to follow a good example. Give me your
-best attention, I am going to open the case, and if I make mistakes
-I'm open to correction. Some few years ago there lived in the north of
-London a gentleman--we'll be polite, if nothing else--a gentleman and
-his stepdaughter, name of the gentleman Nisbet, name of the
-stepdaughter Beatrice. The house they inhabited was in Lamb's Terrace,
-and a gentleman of means could not have selected a more desolate
-locality to reside in. Miss Beatrice's mother was dead, and in her
-will she appointed her second husband--she couldn't very well appoint
-her first, doctor--guardian to her child, with a handsome provision
-for the maintenance and education of the young lady. The bulk of her
-fortune she left to her daughter, who was to come into possession of
-it when she was of age. It was a large fortune, some fifty or sixty
-thousand pounds, I believe, and I wish such a bit of luck had fallen
-to my share, but we can't all be born with silver spoons in our
-mouths, can we, doctor? That this fortune should have been left to the
-lady instead of the gentleman annoyed and angered him, and he
-determined to have the fingering of it. Now, how could that be
-managed? There was only one way, according to his thinking, and that
-was, to get rid of the lady, because it was set down in the will that,
-in the event of the young lady's death before she came of age, the
-money should revert to him. He laid his plans artfully, but there was
-a flaw in them, as you will presently confess. I don't pretend to
-understand how it was that he set about compassing his desire in the
-crooked way he did. Perhaps he found the young lady hard to manage;
-because he had some sort of sneaking feeling for her, perhaps he
-thought it would not be half so bad if he got rid of someone else in
-her place; and so contrived that it should be believed it was his own
-stepdaughter who was dead, instead of a poor, friendless young girl of
-her own age and build."
-
-Dr. Cooper shifted uneasily in his chair, and an expression of
-amazement stole into his face.
-
-"I see that I am interesting you. This poor friendless girl was in his
-service in Lamb's Terrace at the time, her name, Molly. So what did
-this Nisbet do but send his stepdaughter from the house, and take a
-ticket for her to some part of the Continent, precise place unknown,
-but doubtless where she was pretty well out of the world. He was to
-follow her, and they were to live in foreign parts. Meanwhile the poor
-girl Molly was left in the London house, and on the morning of his
-intended departure was found dead, not in her own bed, but in the
-young lady's, with the young lady's clothes on and about her. The
-cause of death was said to be asphyxiation by an escape of gas in the
-young lady's bedroom. The Nisbets kept no society in London, and had
-no friends or acquaintances, so there was no one to dispute his
-statement that it was his stepdaughter who was dead. Now, he knew,
-that an inquest would have to be held, and that a certificate of the
-cause of death would have to be produced, so what does he do but go to
-a miserable wretch of a doctor or apothecary living or starving--the
-latter, I suspect--in the neighborhood of Lamb's Terrace, and by
-plausible words and bribe induce him to give this necessary death
-certificate. Name of doctor, Cooper. Fire away, doctor, if you've
-anything to say."
-
-"It has been done again and again," said Dr. Cooper, sucking his
-parched lips. "But I can't speak till I've had a drink."
-
-"Here it is," said Rivers, mixing a glass, sparing with the whisky and
-liberal with the water, and handing it to the wretched man. "Don't
-swallow it all at once; moisten your lips with it now and then."
-
-"It has been done again and again," repeated Dr. Cooper. "A doctor is
-called in who has not attended the patient; he sees that the cause of
-death is unmistakable, and he gives the certificate. It is not a
-crime."
-
-"I am not so sure of that," said Rivers, in a dry tone. "Anyway it is
-too late now to prove the true cause of poor Molly's, death, for the
-body has been cremated."
-
-"It was not a case of illness," continued Dr. Cooper; "no doctor had
-been in the house to see the girl before that morning, and I only did
-what any other doctor would have done."
-
-"You did," corrected Rivers, "what no respectable doctor would dream
-of doing."
-
-"I was in debt," pursued Dr. Cooper, "I was in trouble on all sides, I
-had a large family to support, and no food to give them. He came to
-me, and I was glad to earn a pound or two. I had never seen him before
-that morning, I had never even heard of him. What is this story you
-are telling me of another girl being put into his daughter's bed? It
-is false; I do not believe it."
-
-"It is true," I said, "and it can be proved, for the young lady
-lives."
-
-"May I drop dead off this chair if I knew it!" cried Dr. Cooper, with
-trembling outstretched hands. "How was I to know it when I had never
-seen the lady, when I had never seen the girl, when I had never seen
-him before that morning?"
-
-Notwithstanding the feeling of loathing with which he inspired me, I
-had no doubt that he was speaking the truth, and that he was not
-implicated in the conspiracy. He presented a pitiable and degrading
-spectacle as he sat trembling and writhing in his chair.
-
-"I will go on to the end," said Rivers, "and you will find that you
-have something else to explain. The inquest was held, and you gave
-false evidence at it."
-
-"You can't prove that it was false," said Dr. Cooper. "There is no
-body to exhume, and there is no one to give evidence against me. You
-may be right in the other parts of the story, but you will never be
-able to prove yourself right in this. I know sufficient of the law to
-know that no crime can be brought home to me for which I can be made
-to suffer."
-
-"Perhaps you do know the law," said Rivers dryly, and I fancied that
-he felt himself at a disadvantage here, "and perhaps you don't. One
-thing is certain. You may escape, but there is no possibility of
-escape for the infernal scoundrel you have served, and who has brought
-you over from London to assist him in some other diabolical scheme."
-
-"Stop a minute," exclaimed Dr. Cooper, bending forward and fixing his
-bloodshot eyes on Rivers' face. "Didn't I see you on the boat?"
-
-"It is more than probable," answered Rivers, with a sly chuckle, "for
-I was there."
-
-"You followed us?"
-
-"Every step of the way. If you had looked for me you would have seen
-me on the train. What do you say now? Are we friends or foes?"
-
-"Friends," cried Dr. Cooper eagerly. "Friends. I am on your side. I
-will conceal nothing."
-
-Was it my fancy that there was a movement in the wall between the room
-we were in and that occupied by Mr. Nisbet? It must have been, I
-thought, for upon looking more closely I saw nothing to confirm the
-fancy, and I ascribed it to the fever and excitement of the scene of
-which I was a witness.
-
-"You are wise," said Rivers, "though I take it upon myself to declare
-that, with or without your assistance, we can bring his guilt home to
-him. There are others in the house as well as ourselves. Two of our
-friends are at this moment stationed outside Mr. Nisbet's door. He is
-doomed, if ever man was. If he knows a prayer it is time for him to
-say it."
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XXX.
-
- MR. NISBET TAKES A DECIDED STEP.
-
-
-"The evidence, then, you gave at the inquest," continued Rivers,
-"whether false or true (you see I am not disposed to be hard on you),
-was conclusive, and doubtless you were well paid for it. In the eyes
-of the law Mr. Nisbet's stepdaughter was dead, and he came into her
-fortune. The simplicity of the whole thing would be amusing if it were
-not tragic. But his task was not yet finished. He had committed an
-error of judgment in killing the wrong woman; the lady whom he had
-robbed of her fortune still lived, and it was imperative that he
-should get rid of her. He must have been in fear of detection, or he
-would have adopted some violent and summary measures to compass his
-objects. Being fearful of consequences he determined to kill her
-slowly, and it was also necessary that he should destroy her memory,
-that he should make her mind a blank, for if by any chance the news of
-the tragedy which had taken place in Lamb's Terrace reached her
-knowledge the game would be lost. According to the way I reason it out
-he hoped that the drugs he administered to her would cause her to die
-a presumably natural death, but the lady was obstinate, and refused to
-die as he wished. At length, weary of waiting, he calls you in to
-assist him."
-
-"You are on the wrong track," said Dr. Cooper. "I have never seen the
-lady."
-
-"You are in your right senses, I presume," said Rivers. "The lady
-happens to be in this house."
-
-"In this house?"
-
-"Do you wish us to believe you have not seen her?"
-
-"On my honor, I have not seen her." At this reference to his honor a
-queer smile crossed Rivers' lips. "There is a female here, as I was
-given to understand by Mr. Nisbet, one of his domestics, who was
-indisposed. But I have seen no one except Mr. Nisbet and an old woman
-who cooks for him, and with whom I have not exchanged a single word.
-Mr. Nisbet informed me that he wanted my assistance in certain
-chemical experiments he intended to make in Switzerland, and I
-consented to accompany him. It was a sudden proposition, and I had to
-make up my mind on the spur of the moment. When I first made his
-acquaintance he promised to assist me and set me up in a good way of
-business, but after the inquest I lost sight of him, and his promises
-were not fulfilled. Coming upon me suddenly a week ago in London, he
-said if I would assist him that he would fulfill his old promises. I
-would have come with him without this assurance. I was doing no
-business in London, and I was in debt; I have always been in debt
-everywhere; I am the most unfortunate wretch in existence. Now you
-have the truth of it."
-
-"What were you and Mr. Nisbet doing to-night before you went to bed?"
-
-"What do you mean?"
-
-"It is a plain question. You and he were together in this room. You
-poured some drops from a vial into a glass. Mr. Nisbet took the glass
-from you, dipped his finger into it, and tasted the stuff; then he
-threw the contents of the glass out of the window."
-
-"You know everything," gasped Dr. Cooper, falling back in his chair in
-consternation.
-
-"You are not far out. What were you doing? What was in the vial?"
-
-"A deadly poison. The drops I poured into the glass would put an end
-to a man's life in a few seconds, and it would be next to impossible
-to discover the cause of death."
-
-"An interesting experiment. If it would put an end to a man's life it
-would put an end to a woman's. Are you a double-dyed knave, or an
-egregious fool? Do you not see the crime your accomplice was
-meditating?"
-
-"I am not his accomplice," cried Dr. Cooper in a violent tone. "He
-told me he wanted to try it upon some animals."
-
-"A likely story. This deadly poison was to be administered to his
-stepdaughter. He paved the way by informing the old woman in this
-house that the young lady is sinking fast. He is caught in his own
-trap. Where is the vial?"
-
-"Mr. Nisbet has it."
-
-At this moment I saw confirmed the fancy I had entertained of a
-movement in the wall between the bedrooms. A panel was softly and
-noiselessly pushed, and Mr. Nisbet's face appeared. It was of an ashen
-whiteness; he must have overheard every word of the conversation. As
-his eyes met mine he swiftly retreated; the panel closed, and then
-came the sound of the snap of a lock.
-
-"What was that?" cried Rivers, starting up.
-
-I told him hurriedly what I had seen, and he went to the wall and
-examined it.
-
-"It is a cunning contrivance," he said, "and is hidden somewhere in
-these wide headings." He pushed against the wall without effect. "You,
-too," he added grimly to Dr. Cooper, "might never have left the house
-alive. Let us finish the night's work. You will come out with us.
-Leave the door open, and set that chair against it, in case he slips
-in here, and tries to make his escape. We will take the law into our
-own hands. I never travel without the darbies."
-
-He took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and put them back with a
-satisfied smile.
-
-We joined Ronald and Bob in the passage, and questioned them. Mr.
-Nisbet had made no attempt to open his door, but Bob had peeped
-through the keyhole a few minutes after he had taken up his station,
-being attracted by the glimmering of a light in the room, which he
-accepted as a proof that Mr. Nisbet was awake. By means of this light
-he had obtained a partial view of the room, but before he could catch
-sight of Mr. Nisbet the keyhole was masked from within, and he could
-see nothing more.
-
-"Mr. Nisbet!" Rivers called out as he rapped smartly at the door.
-
-We listened for an answer, but received none, and Rivers repeated his
-summons several times in vain. No movement within the room reached our
-ears. We did not make more noise than was absolutely necessary, but it
-brought Mme. Bernstein out, to whom Ronald explained what we were
-doing, and hoped we were not alarming Beatrice.
-
-"Oh, no," said Mme. Bernstein, "she is sleeping like an angel."
-
-Did she know her lover was near her, I thought, and that she was saved
-from the dread peril with which she had been threatened? The
-mysterious adventure which had led up to the present strange scene in
-a foreign land warranted such a thought. Little, indeed, do we know of
-the unseen world by which we are surrounded, little do we understand
-of the occult influences which direct the most pregnant actions of our
-lives. Often during the past twenty-four hours had I looked toward the
-ground in the anticipation of seeing the spectral figure which had
-prompted every step I had taken in this mystery, but I had seen
-nothing of it, and I was tempted to believe, its mission being
-accomplished, that it had left me forever. Though a more fitting place
-might be found to mention it, I may state here that my impression was
-correct. From that day to this, when in my London home I am engaged in
-writing the particulars of the mysterious crime which, through the
-agency of the supernatural visitation, I was the means of bringing to
-light, I have never set eyes on the supernatural apparition.
-
-I return now to my companions, who, in the silence of Mr. Nisbet, were
-debating what it was best to do. If we burst open the door of his
-bedroom we should awake Beatrice, and the shock might produce serious
-consequences.
-
-"He may have escaped by the window," suggested Bob.
-
-Rivers shook his head. "He could not do so without breaking his limbs.
-This floor is some distance from the ground, and a dead straight wall
-stretches down the back of the house."
-
-"There may be other panels in the walls of his room opening in other
-directions."
-
-"That is more likely. It is stupid to wait here and do nothing. I have
-picked a lock before to-night. Here goes."
-
-Down he plumped on his knees, and set to work with his own knife and
-ours which we handed him. One or another of us held a candle to the
-keyhole while he worked. It was a long job and a tough job, and he was
-at it for thirty or forty minutes, but he managed it at last.
-
-"Be prepared for a rush," he said, in a tone of warning, as he slowly
-pushed the door open.
-
-No such experience awaited us. The door was wide open, and we stood
-together on the threshold.
-
-"He has left the candle alight, at all events," said Rivers. "Follow
-me, and look out."
-
-We entered the room close upon each other's heels.
-
-Leaning back in an armchair by the table was Mr. Nisbet. His eyes were
-closed, and we were face to face with the murderer. His features were
-perfectly calm and composed.
-
-"How can he sleep so peacefully at such a moment as this?" whispered
-Bob.
-
-"Yes," said Rivers, stepping forward, "he sleeps peacefully."
-
-Dr. Cooper also stepped forward, and put his ear to Mr. Nisbet's
-mouth, and his hand to his heart.
-
-"Dead?" asked Rivers.
-
-"Dead," replied Dr. Cooper.
-
-Rivers lifted from the carpet an empty vial which had fallen from the
-dead man's hand, and held it up to the doctor with a questioning look.
-Dr. Cooper nodded.
-
-
- * * * * * * *
-
-
-But little more remains to be told.
-
-Beatrice was taken back to England, and under medical care recovered
-her memory. But she recollects very little of the years she passed in
-peril of her life. The chief part of her fortune was saved, and she
-and Ronald are married. Barbara is in their service. The poor child
-suffered much when the truth was revealed to her, but time healed her
-sorrow, and she has a happy home.
-
-Dr. Cooper disappeared from London, and none of us knew, or cared to
-know, what became of him. Ronald provided for Mme. Bernstein.
-
-My good wife and I live in our old home. We never intend to move.
-Nothing in the world could tempt Maria to enter an empty house.
-Between ourselves and Mr. and Mrs. Elsdale exists a firm friendship,
-and we, seldom without Bob, are frequently together; but we never
-refer to the strange incidents which have ended so happily.
-
-
-
- THE END.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Tenant, by
-B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST TENANT ***
-
-***** This file should be named 43199-8.txt or 43199-8.zip *****
-This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
- http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/1/9/43199/
-
-Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by
-Google Books (The University of Michigan).
-
-
-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
- 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 MERCHANTABILITY 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 information page at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-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
-contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
-Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/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 www.gutenberg.org/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: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works.
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
-concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
-with anyone. For forty 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:
-
- 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.