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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78812-0.txt b/78812-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ebc63d --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8698 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78812 *** + + + + + MAGNET DETECTIVE LIBRARY No. 106 10 CENTS + + SHADOWED BY A DETECTIVE + + [Illustration] + + VIRGINIA CHAMPLIN + + STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + + +[Illustration: MAGNET DETECTIVE LIBRARY] + + THE ONLY STANDARD LINE OF DETECTIVE + NOVELS ON THE MARKET. + + THE ONLY NICK CARTER STORIES IN BOOK FORM + AND THE BEST OF OTHER WRITERS’ WORK. + + _Price, Ten Cents._ _Published Weekly._ + + + 105--A Bite of An Apple, and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter. + 104--A Past Master of Crime; or, Detective Bush’s Clever Work. + By Donald J. McKenzie. + 103--A Queer Case. By Nicholas Carter. + 102--Bruce Angelo, the City Detective. By Judson R. Taylor. + 101--The Stolen Pay Train and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter. + 100--The Diamond Button. By Barclay North. + 99--Gideon Drexel’s Millions. By Nicholas Carter. + 98--Tom and Jerry, The Double Detectives. By Judson R. Taylor. + 97--The Puzzle of Five Pistols and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter. + 96--No. 13 Rue Marlot. By Rene du Pont Jest. + 95--Sealed Orders; or, The Triple Mystery. By Nicholas Carter. + 94--Vivier; of Vivier, Longman & Co., Bankers. By Barclay North. + 93--The Adventures of Harrison Keith, Detective. By Nicholas Carter. + 92--Van, the Government Detective. By Judson R. Taylor. + 91--The Great Money Order Swindle. By Nicholas Carter. + 90--On the Rack. By Barclay North. + 89--The Detective’s Pretty Neighbor and Other Stories. By Nicholas + Carter. + 88--The North Walk Mystery. By Will N. Harben. + 87--Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men. + 86--Brant Adams. By Judson R. Taylor. + 85--A Dead Man’s Grip. By Nicholas Carter. + 84--The Inspector’s Puzzle. By Charles Matthew. + 83--The Crescent Brotherhood. By Nicholas Carter. + 82--The Masked Detective. By Judson R. Taylor. + 81--Wanted by Two Clients. By Nicholas Carter. + 80--The Poker King. By Marline Manley. + 79--The Sign of the Crossed Knives. By Nicholas Carter. + 78--The Chosen Man. By Judson R. Taylor. + 77--The Van Alstine Case. By Nicholas Carter. + 76--Face to Face. By Donald J. McKenzie. + 75--The Clever Celestial. By Nicholas Carter. + 74--The Twin Detectives. By K. F. Hill. + 73--Two Plus Two. By Nicholas Carter. + 72--Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories. By A. Conan Doyle. + 71--The Diamond Mine Case. By Nicholas Carter. + 70--Little Lightning. By Police Captain James. + 69--Detective Bob Bridger. By R. M. Taylor. + 68--The Double Shuffle Club. By Nicholas Carter. + 67--The Mystery of a Madstone. By K. F. Hill. + 66--The Detective’s Clew. By O. L. Adams. + 65--Found on the Beach. By Nicholas Carter. + 64--The Red Camellia. By Fortune DuBoisgobey. + 63--The Chevalier Casse-Cou. By Fortune DuBoisgobey. + 62--A Fair Criminal. By Nicholas Carter. + 61--The Maltese Cross. By Eugene T. Sawyer. + 60--A Chase Around the World. By Mariposa Weir. + 59--A Millionaire Partner. By Nicholas Carter. + 58--Muertalma, or the Poisoned Pin. By Marmaduke Dey. + 57--The Vestibule Limited Mystery. By Marline Manly. + 56--At Thompson’s Ranch. By Nicholas Carter. + 55--His Great Revenge, Vol. II. By Fortune DuBoisgobey. + 54--His Great Revenge, Vol. I. By Fortune DuBoisgobey. + 53--An Accidental Password. By Nicholas Carter. + 52--The Post Office Detective. By George W. Goode. + 51--The Los Huecos Mystery. By Eugene T. Sawyer. + 50--The Man from India. By Nicholas Carter. + 49--At Odds With Scotland Yard. By Nicholas Carter. + 48--The Great Travers Case. By Dr. Mark Merrick. + 47--The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. By Fergus Hume. + 46--Check No. 777. By Nicholas Carter. + 45--Old Specie, the Treasury Detective. By Marline Manley. + 44--The Blue Veil. By Fortune Du Boisgobey. + 43--Among the Nihilists. By Nicholas Carter. + 42--The Revenue Detective. By Police Captain James. + 41--John Needham’s Double. By Joseph Hatton. + 40--The Mountaineer Detective. By C. W. Cobb. + 39--Among the Counterfeiters. By Nicholas Carter. + 38--The Matapan Affair. By Fortune Du Boisgobey. + 37--The Prairie Detective. By Leander P. Richardson. + 36--The Crime of the Opera House, Vol. II. By F. Du Boisgobey. + 35--The Crime of the Opera House, Vol. I. By F. Du Boisgobey. + 34--The Society Detective. By Oscar Maitland. + 33--The Convict Colonel. By Fortune Du Boisgobey. + 32--A Mysterious Case. By K. F. Hill. + 31--The Red Lottery Ticket. By Fortune Du Boisgobey. + 30--The Bag of Diamonds. By George Manville Fenn. + 29--The Clique of Gold. By Emile Gaboriau. + 28--Under His Thumb. By Donald J. McKenzie. + 27--The Steel Necklace. By Fortune Du Boisgobey. + 26--File No. 113. By Emile Gaboriau. + 25--The Detective’s Triumph. By Emile Gaboriau. + 24--The Detective’s Dilemma. By Emile Gaboriau. + 23--Evidence By Telephone. By Nicholas Carter. + 22--The Champdoce Mystery. By Emile Gaboriau. + 21--A Deposit Vault Puzzle. By Nicholas Carter. + 20--Caught in the Net. By Emile Gaboriau. + 19--A Chance Discovery. By Nicholas Carter. + 18--The Gamblers’ Syndicate. By Nicholas Carter. + 17--The Piano Box Mystery. By Nicholas Carter. + 16--A Woman’s Hand. By Nicholas Carter. + 15--The Widow Lerouge. By Emile Gaboriau. + 14--Caught in the Toils. By Nicholas Carter. + 13--The Mysterious Mail Robbery. By Nicholas Carter. + 12--Playing a Bold Game. By Nicholas Carter. + 11--Fighting Against Millions. By Nicholas Carter. + 10--The Old Detective’s Pupil. By Nicholas Carter. + 9--A Stolen Identity. By Nicholas Carter. + 8--An Australian Klondike. By Nicholas Carter. + 7--The American Marquis. By Nicholas Carter. + 6--A Wall Street Haul. By Nicholas Carter. + 5--The Crime of a Countess. By Nicholas Carter. + 4--Tracked Across the Atlantic. By Nicholas Carter. + 3--A Titled Counterfeiter. By Nicholas Carter. + 2--The Great Enigma. By Nicholas Carter. + 1--A Klondike Claim. By Nicholas Carter. + + +STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William St., New York. + + + + +_To the Reader_ + + +We trust that you will be thoroughly satisfied with this book. During +the long period of time that the publications of Street & Smith have +been familiar to the reading classes (somewhat more than half a +century) it has always been our aim to give to the public the very best +literary products, regardless of the expenditure involved. Our books +and periodicals are today read and re-read in a majority of the homes +of America, while but few of our original competitors are even known by +name to the present generation. No special credit is due for antiquity, +but we hold it to be a self-evident fact that long experience, coupled +with enterprise and the ability to maintain the front rank for so +many years, proves our right to the title of leaders. We solicit your +further valued patronage. + + STREET & SMITH. + + + + + SHADOWED BY A + DETECTIVE + + OR + + THE WOMAN IN WAX + + BY + + VIRGINIA CHAMPLIN + + [Illustration] + + NEW YORK + STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS + 238 WILLIAM STREET + + + + + Copyright, 1885, + By J. S. OGILVIE & CO. + + Copyright, 1899, + By STREET & SMITH + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER. PAGE + + I. The Kidnapping 5 + + II. What Became of the Heroine 12 + + III. Robertson Brothers & Co. 26 + + IV. Honorable Willie Saunders becomes Thoroughly Mad 43 + + V. Shakespeare’s Tavern 53 + + VI. The Morgue at Bellevue Hospital 62 + + VII. Saunders almost loses his Mind, while Captain Young loses + his time 74 + + VIII. Taking a Cast of the Dead 84 + + IX. What the Honorable Coroner Davis thought, and what + Robertson, Jr., was convinced of 92 + + X. A Mohick tells of a visit big Kelly receives which he + little expected, and how William Dow transforms + a visitor into a prisoner 100 + + XI. A Criminal Court in the State of New York 115 + + XII. How the worthy Mr. Midler exhorted his penitents to die + like Christians 127 + + XIII. In which James Gobson escapes the Gallows, and the + Honorable Coroner Davis’ remorse 137 + + XIV. In which Willie Saunders passes from despair to amazement, + and from amazement to anger 149 + + XV. William Dow’s Remorse 161 + + XVI. William Dow’s Revenge--seeking the unknown 169 + + XVII. A Souvenir of Love 184 + + XVIII. Two Villas at Jamaica Plain 196 + + XIX. What happened on leaving Barker’s 204 + + XX. A wife’s love and a maid’s love 217 + + XXI. The murderer of a Dead Woman 226 + + XXII. Kitty Bell’s Story 238 + + XXIII. Wharf 32 247 + + + + +Shadowed by a Detective; + +OR, + +THE WOMAN IN WAX. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE KIDNAPPING. + + +One evening, in the winter of 1865, a grand ball was given at No. 17 +East Twenty-third Street. It was at the house of Miss Ada Ricard, the +new star in the great American city, but a star whose brilliancy the +profane knew only by reflection, for her life was enveloped in mystery, +and she was never seen in any public place. + +All that was known of her past was that she had been married to a +wealthy merchant in Buffalo, James Gobson, a brutal individual, whose +matrimonial yoke she had succeeded in throwing off, but who had left +her certain ineffaceable souvenirs of his affection. + +Gobson, in fact, who adored his wife, and was very jealous of her, had +one day so abused her that after the violent scene she was left with +one ear torn and one tooth the less. It is true she concealed the cut +on her pretty ear behind a huge diamond, but she had always refused to +replace the pearl lacking in the jewel casket of her rosy lips. + +“By this,” she said, “I shall never be likely to forget what a husband +costs, and if any mad ambition or foolish love is about to make me +forget it, it will be sufficient to smile at myself in the glass to +recall the past.” + +Thus armed against her own weakness, she boldly launched herself into +a life of flirtations. Being worth from ten to twelve thousand dollars +through her husband, she made her _debut_ by expending them even to the +cents in order to establish herself in luxurious surroundings, knowing +that men, in their pride, attach as much value to the splendor of the +temple as to the charms of the idol. + +Having done this, and having her beauty as her only capital, she was +careful not to waste it on the first comer; she waited patiently, +seldom showing herself abroad, absolutely refusing all homage until a +certain Thomas Cornhill, the proprietor of inexhaustible oil wells, +seemed worthy of her heart. + +Unfortunately, three months after, Thomas Cornhill suddenly died, and +Miss Ada, though bereft, was left with one hundred thousand dollars in +ready money, and an equal sum in jewels. + +Ada mourned him for a few weeks; then, having an essentially practical +mind, she changed her retinue of servants before the advent of Willie +Saunders, an immensely rich cracker-merchant, who soon succeeded poor +Cornhill. + +When Willie Saunders found his homage accepted, he was greatly +flattered. He was a stout man of about fifty, sensitive, simple and +vain. He truly adored Ada, and believed himself tenderly beloved by +her. Therefore, ready to listen to all her caprices, he made only a few +remarks for form’s sake when she told him about the masquerade ball +she wished to give, but he was very jealous. He knew Ada was sought by +many adorers, among whom was a certain Edward Forster, a colonel in the +Union Army, and one of the most fascinating gentlemen in New York high +life. + +However convinced the worthy cracker-merchant might be of Ada’s love, +he naturally supposed that her adorers, Forster first of all, would +profit by this evening to pay her more attention than agreeable to +himself, and it troubled him. But the pretty, wicked little creature +managed so artfully that Saunders did not long resist. + +Besides, she was a wonderful creature, and the upstart-millionaire had +high stakes to play for. A blonde, with large, steel-blue eyes and a +tall, admirable figure, with the feet and hands of a child; with a +laughing mouth, bold-faced, and fearing nothing, Ada Ricard had every +attraction to lure the man of the world. The memory of her former +husband sometimes disturbed the young woman in her new life. Having +retained the recollection of his brutal love and jealousy, she also +remembered with terror that he swore to avenge himself for her leaving +him. But, since arranging the money settlements, she had not heard of +him, and even his friends in Buffalo did not know what had become of +him. One fine morning he made a fortune, and went West. He was last +heard from at San Francisco, where Saunders told her he was living a +fast life, evidently trying to drown recollection. + +Ada’s mind was now at rest, and never had she been so gay as at the +masked ball. Many women in good society had ventured to attend in order +to get a near view of the mysterious and powerful beauty. + +Toward eleven o’clock the parlors of the ex-Mrs. Gobson presented a +truly picturesque appearance. Every period, every class of society, +and every legend were represented, from the companions of Christopher +Columbus to the trappers of the far West, and from Mephistopheles to +the Venetian harlequin. Among the women there was a dazzling display +of precious stones and dominos of every color. Ada Ricard herself wore +the splendid costume of an Indian woman of the time of the Spanish +conquest. In her ears she had diamonds worth ten thousand dollars, +around her throat a triple necklace of pearls of at least equal value, +and on her arms and wrists very heavy bracelets of massive gold. + +All the men who knew her only by sight, and the women who had heard so +much of her, literally devoured her with admiring eyes. Saunders, who +was to give five or six thousand dollars toward this ball, did not take +his eyes off of her. + +Looking very grotesque in the dress of a Highlander, he tried every +moment to draw near her, but Ada reminded him by a word, look or +gesture that she wished to devote herself wholly to her guests, and he +docilely moved away, uttering a sigh which was charitably answered by +bursts of laughter by those of his friends who were acquainted with his +weakness. + +The ball, which had been rather quiet for two or three hours, had +become very lively, even noisy. + +Soon the buffets were pillaged, the champagne flowed in streams; a few +masks fell off, and Miss Ada Ricard, readily refraining from reminding +her guests of what was good form--for all this noise could only do the +greatest honor to her reputation--thought only of getting away as far +as possible from the hubbub. + +She had just taken the arm of one of her adorers instead of that +which the unfortunate Saunders had offered, and was proceeding toward +a little boudoir where some quiet people had taken refuge, when a +formidable hurrah caused every head to turn toward the door. + +It was the entrance of three Sioux Indians that had excited the +enthusiasm of the company. + +They indeed deserved this reception, for they were really superb in +their horribly truthful costumes, in which nothing was lacking, neither +the head-dress of feathers, the tomahawk, nor scalping-knife, nor even +in the belt, half a dozen scalps, sinister trophies of late raids. + +Ada Ricard turned and added her applause to that of the company; then, +like them, she tried to recognize those who had chosen this curious +disguise; but she did not succeed. + +No doubt, not caring particularly to tattoo their faces, the three +mysterious personages wore masks which wholly concealed their features, +and to every question they answered only with guttural cries and +exclamations which completely changed their voices. After opening a +passage through the crowd, they reached the mistress of the house, and, +drawing her away from the friend who was accompanying her, they began +to perform around her in a circle a fantastic dance which gradually +brought her to the main hall. + +Supposing, like every one else, that the Sioux Indians were three +admirers, Ada gayly watched their contortions and dance, and was the +first to burst into laughter, when the tallest of the three masks +seized her in his arms and, lifting her as if a child, bore her to the +threshold of the door. + +Standing before her captor, his two companions chanted a war-song and +swung their tomahawks as if to protect his flight. + +One would have thought him a great chief carrying away his squaw +according to the customs of the Indians of the plains. + +This joke was so thoroughly American that the crowd accepted it with +ringing bravos. + +Suddenly the warrior who bore the young woman faced about and, leaping +with one bound, sprang out upon the steps of the house, whose doors +were wide open, and then into a splendid landau which was standing +before the door. + +The two Indians who had followed him had quickly climbed the box, +and the carriage, the coachman no doubt having received his orders, +immediately set off at a double-quick gallop. + +This kidnapping had been so quickly performed, that no one would have +had time to prevent it if they had attempted it. + +Of Ada Ricard’s guests, moreover, not one had thought seriously of it +excepting the unhappy Saunders, whose jealousy, always on the watch, +made him think the conduct of the three masks very queer. + +He attempted to approach Ada Ricard, but his friends restrained him in +spite of his grotesque supplications; and, when she disappeared in the +arms of the Indian, he hastened to the balcony of the house, where the +enthusiasm reached delirium on the departure of the carriage. + +A tremendous hurrah covered the silvery laugh of Miss Ada when she +found herself being enveloped in the fur pelisse which one of the Sioux +had flung over her shoulders, and the unfortunate cracker-merchant, who +was dragged away from the balcony, had immediately become the pivot of +a comical dance in the middle of the drawing-room. + +What no one heard, was the cry of amazement or fright uttered by Miss +Ada Ricard the moment the carriage rattled along the pavement of East +Twenty-Third Street. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +WHAT BECAME OF THE HEROINE. + + +When the friends of Mr. Saunders, exhausted by their war-whoops and +dancing, deigned to grant a little respite to their victim by opening +the circle which they had pitilessly formed around him, the big man, +half-crazed and breathless, sank upon a lounge, listening absently to +those who were trying to console him. He not only suffered through his +love, but his vanity was equally wounded, for he did not doubt that +his misfortune would be known all over New York the next day, and that +he would become an object of public ridicule. It seemed to him that +Ada must have connived with her kidnappers, being too blind to suppose +that violence had been done her. But who were those men with whom +the unfaithful woman had consented to be an accomplice in the scene +that covered him with ridicule? For whose benefit had this kidnapping +been made? For one of her adorers, no doubt, but which one? He was so +completely absorbed in his meditations and despair that he did not +perceive that the guests were disappearing one by one, and only the +voice of Ada’s maid brought him to himself. + +He raised his eyes, the parlors were deserted, and he was left alone in +the room from which the woman he loved had so strangely disappeared. + +On recognizing Ada’s maid, he felt the satisfaction of a man whose +anger, long restrained, can at last vent itself on some one. + +“Ah! you at least can explain to me what all this means,” he cried, +springing up and seizing the maid by the arm. + +“I!” answered Mary, somewhat alarmed, and trying to disengage herself +from Saunders’ grasp. “I! how should I know any more than you?” + +“Did you not recognize those masks?” + +“I saw them only while they were carrying off madam.” + +“Did not Ada receive any letters during the day?” + +“None whatever.” + +“Nor a call?” + +“You know very well that she receives only you.” + +“Then you have no cause for suspicion?” + +“None.” + +“It is incredible. Your mistress and you are two cheats.” + +Saying this, the merchant gave Mary a push, and, having arisen as +quickly as his corpulence would permit, strode up and down the parlor. + +At the very grotesque contrast between the disturbed face of the stout +man and his Highland costume, whose short frock displayed his large +bare legs, the maid could no longer restrain herself and burst into +laughter, crying: + +“Heavens, sir! how droll you look. If madam could see you what fun she +would have.” + +Made furious by this remark, which turned the dagger round and round in +his wound as if with delight, Saunders approached the insolent girl to +strike her; but he probably felt that he would gain nothing by threats +and violence, for he suddenly softened and said: + +“Come, my little Mary, be good now. Haven’t I always been kind to you? +If you will tell me where madam has gone I will give you one hundred +dollars.” + +“If you were to give me one thousand dollars,” answered the maid +saucily, “I could not give you exact information, for I know nothing +myself; but give me the one hundred dollars all the same and I will +tell you something that will comfort you.” + +The love-sick merchant quickly drew out of the little leather bag that +danced upon his stomach, from his Scotch wallet, the sum demanded, +and handed it to Mary, who took it, slipped it into her corsage, and +continued: + +“Do you know, sir, that I have an idea that this affair was done on a +wager. You know how many are in love with madam, but she loves you too +much to deceive you, and has always refused the most splendid offers. +Three of her admirers, therefore, wished to avenge themselves upon her +and you, and so have carried her off. It won’t accomplish much, for you +know madam isn’t a woman to be made to do what she does not wish. They, +no doubt, have taken her into some house in the neighborhood, from +which she will find a way to escape if they try to retain her by force. +Before noon she will be back here.” + +“Yes, you are right,” said Saunders, somewhat consoled; “that is how +it will be; but I swear to you that they shall pay for this joke. +Suppose I go and notify the police?” + +“Are you crazy? Madam will be back before a detective can find a trace +of her. I should not be astonished if Forster was at the bottom of it.” + +“Colonel Edward?” + +“That’s the man. He is dead in love with madam, although she never +would receive him.” + +“I will go to his house at once.” + +“That would be absurd, for it certainly is not to his own house that he +has taken Miss Ada.” + +“What shall I do then?” + +“Go to bed and rest, but change your dress first. You don’t intend, I +suppose, to walk around in that costume all day,” and Mary, to prevent +herself from laughing again, bit her lips until they bled. + +“Of course not,” he answered, glancing into the mirror which gave him +back his burlesque image; “but you must send me word as soon as Ada +returns.” + +“I promise you.” + +“Then send for a carriage.” + +Mary hastened to send one of the servants to the nearest carriage +stand, and a few moments later, after giving a thousand commands to +the young girl, the poor lover carefully wrapped in his cloak, and +heaving the loudest of sighs, sank back out of sight in a corner of the +carriage. + +“Fool!” muttered Mary for farewell, as Saunders disappeared from sight; +“if you see your lady-love to-day I shall be greatly surprised.” + +And without taking notice of what was passing below-stairs, where the +festivity that had been interrupted in the parlor was being noisily +continued, the servant re-entered Ada Ricard’s apartments and shut +herself in. + +During the scenes we have just described, the landau that bore away the +young woman, on leaving Twenty-third Street turned to the left, and +proceeded along First Avenue toward the eastern part of the city. + +The deepest silence had not ceased to prevail inside of the carriage, +and it had been rolling on half an hour when the coachman suddenly +stopped his horses. + +The neighborhood was dark and silent. + +The two Indians, who had mounted the box, sprang down upon the +sidewalk, exchanged a few words with the mask, by the side of which +still sat Miss Ada, and then, darting toward a neighboring narrow +street, vanished in the darkness. + +The landau resumed its course, and soon reached the first houses of +Yorkville, a locality of bad repute, where in miserable shanties was +huddled a large population, mostly composed of Irish. + +It was the retreat of innumerable pickpockets, malefactors and +rag-pickers of the great American city, and is attached to one side of +it like an incurable leper. Honest people hardly dare venture, even in +daylight, through this horrible locality, which extends to the banks of +the East River, almost opposite Blackwell’s Island, where the prisons +and hospitals are. + +Having reached the entrance of Yorkville the carriage stopped a second +time, the man who was inside alighted, bearing in his arms the young +woman whom, with an oath, on account of the bad weather, he informed +that they had at last arrived. He gave an order to the coachman, and +the latter, turning his horses, drove back at a gallop. As for the +unknown man, still laden with his precious burden, he walked rapidly to +a lane a few steps distant. + +The place was evidently familiar to him, for without hesitating a +moment, although it was very dark, he reached a small house, the door +of which was opened at his first touch, and which he quickly closed +behind him. + +In less than a quarter of an hour the same person reappeared in the +street, wearing a large hooded cloak, which concealed his previous +disguise, but he no longer carried his lady companion. She was walking +at his side, choosing as well as she could in the darkness the cleanest +places on the sidewalk, and drawing her furs closely around her, for +the night was chilly. They walked thus in the direction of the East +River without exchanging a word. Soon they reached the banks, which +were deserted, there being nothing to be seen but the lights of the +steamboats which ploughed its waters night and day. + +The unknown descended to the edge of the water to a little boat which, +no doubt, he expected to find there, jumped in first, then offered his +hand to the young lady, who embarked without hesitation, and seated +herself in the stern, while her companion took possession of the +oars. Ten minutes later, by skilful rowing, the boat drifted along +Blackwell’s Island, then, bearing to the left, moved to the opposite +bank. In order to row at his ease, the amateur sailor had thrown off +his cloak. The persons in this boat made a fantastic sight, being +composed only of an Indian and a woman in the costume of the time of +the Incas, and who at this hour of the night were crossing this arm of +the sea, on which the current and darkness rendered navigation doubly +dangerous. + +The lady was evidently anxious, for she tried to peer through the fog +that surrounded her. Unable to do so, she finally asked her companion: + +“Have we long to wait?” + +“Less than half an hour,” he answered, with a vigorous stroke at the +oar, and pushing away from a steamer that was going to New York, at +full speed, and belching forth smoke and cinders. + +“What was your idea in coming this way?” + +“There is no other; the colonel appointed the opposite shore, at +Greenpoint.” + +“Then he was quite certain that you would succeed?” + +“So it seemed. Confess, however, regardless of the pride of the author, +that it was a skilfully managed kidnapping.” + +“Indeed, it was; but Saunders will be seeking us to-morrow, and, +although you paid the coachman well, he will pay him more generously +still, and the man will not hesitate to tell where he stopped his +carriage.” + +“That is the least of my anxieties, for when the fat imbecile discovers +the house we came out of, he will find no one in it. Do you think I am +going back there to wait for him?” + +“Where is Colonel Forster to take me?” + +“Ah! that is his affair and yours. He promised me a thousand dollars if +I would carry off Ada Ricard, with whom he is madly in love.” + +“Without having seen her?” + +“So it seems. I have carried off Ada Ricard. I shall get my thousand +dollars, and the rest does not concern me.” + +“I cannot, however, remain in this costume.” + +“Oh! the colonel is a perfect gentleman; he will have a complete +wardrobe for you, I am certain. Look! there are the lights at +Williamsburg. In ten strokes of the oar we shall arrive.” + +In fact, ahead of the boat the lighted buildings of that important +suburb of New York were plainly seen. The boatman bent over his oars, +and in five minutes they touched the shore at Greenpoint. Before +disembarking the mysterious man gave a shrill whistle, which was +immediately answered by one like it. + +“Come,” he said to the young woman, and jumping out on the bank he +helped her to reach the ground. Then, taking her by the hand, he led +her to the road, where shone the light from the lanterns of a carriage. + +“Is it you?” asked a man keeping guard. + +“It is I, colonel,” answered the Indian; “all has passed off well; Miss +Ada has not been very dreadfully shocked.” + +“Oh! madam,” said Colonel Forster eagerly, for it was he who came to +meet her, “will you forgive me for this violence?” + +“I cannot tell you at present, sir,” answered the young woman, +“for just now I detest you. You must confess that it was a brutal +proceeding, a veritable kidnapping from the midst of my guests, who, +the simpletons, thought it only a carnival joke. At first I was greatly +frightened, and now I am frozen.” + +“Let us go at once to my coupe; later I will make my excuses and will +repair all my wrongs.” + +“What! your coupe. Where are we going?” + +“On board of my yacht, which is waiting for us at Brooklyn; afterwards +wherever you wish.” + +“Excepting to my house?” + +“Excepting to your house,” repeated the American officer, gallantly. + +While exchanging these words all three had reached the carriage, the +horses of which were stamping impatiently. + +The colonel helped the pretty New Yorker to enter, and after seating +himself by her side, said to the pseudo-Indian, holding out a +portmonnaie: + +“Here is what I promised you; remember, not a word. You know that if I +have Saunders or the police at my heels, I shall be after you; whereas, +if you are discreet I shall have the same sum at your disposal again.” + +“Count on me, colonel,” said the stranger; “it is for my interest to be +silent.” + +Then, as he closed the door, he added: “Tell me, Miss Ada, have you +not some commission to give me for Twenty-third Street? Your people, +perhaps, are anxious.” + +“No, it is useless,” answered the strange woman; “I shall write to my +maid to-day to ask for what I need. I have confidence in her. Besides, +I hope the colonel will not keep me a prisoner long.” + +The officer protested against this supposition, looking affectionately +at his companion. + +“Then, all right; a pleasant journey to you,” said the Indian, finally, +closing the door of the coupe, and the coachman immediately started the +horses. + +Quickly regaining the river, the Indian sprang into his boat, which he +pushed off, and returned in the same direction by which he had come a +few moments before. + +Meanwhile Edward Forster’s carriage was crossing Williamsburg and +moving toward Brooklyn, which it reached in less than twenty-five +minutes. The colonel employed the time on the road in making a thousand +protestations of love, which his companion hardly answered. When the +coupe finally stopped at the Brooklyn wharf, he was ten steps off from +a large yacht which was evidently waiting for passengers, for it was +under steam. + +“We have arrived, Miss Ada,” said Forster; “come.” + +He had sprung to the ground and offered his arm to help her cross the +planking between the yacht and the wharf. + +“Have you the right pressure?” he asked the officer who had appeared at +the coupe to receive him on board. + +“Yes, colonel,” was the answer. + +“Then set sail at once, and go by the way of Staten Island.” + +Having given his orders, Forster gently led his victim to the stairs +opening to the interior of the boat. A few moments later he escorted +her to a spacious, delightfully-furnished cabin, and said to her as he +knelt before her: + +“Miss Ada, you are even more beautiful than I dreamed; tell me that you +forgive me.” + +Ada had seated herself on a lounge, and her fur cloak had fallen from +her shoulders. The colonel gazed at her in admiration. He was a very +handsome young man, and one could easily understand the jealousy with +which he had inspired the stout Saunders. Hardly thirty-five years old, +a blonde with a slender figure, both elegant and robust, he was a true +representative of the Anglo-Saxon race. Besides he had a great fortune +and was one of the most distinguished officers in the Union Army. + +It was this, probably, which influenced her, for after a moment’s +silence she decided to answer him with a smile. + +“I think, colonel, it is time to come to an explanation. You have +carried me off. That is a very military proceeding; now what are you +going to do with me?” + +“Make you the happiness of my life,” interrupted Forster. “You know +that I adore you.” + +“That is a matter of course; but how came you to conceive such a wild +plan? It cannot be simply because I refused to receive you.” + +“You had not been in New York a fortnight before I loved you, and +Cornhill did all that he could to rouse everyone’s curiosity and to +increase my love for you. He belonged to my club, and not a day passed +that he did not talk to us about your wit and beauty. From that moment +dates my first efforts to meet you; but, you remember, I hardly had an +opportunity after two or three attempts to catch a glimpse of you and +speak to you a few seconds. When Cornhill died I was absent from New +York. I went to Louisiana on a commission, which I cursed on my return +when I knew that Saunders was devoting himself to you, and to seek a +quarrel with him, when he did not belong to my set in society, would +have made me ridiculous.” + +“You were afraid of a scandal.” + +“True, not knowing what to do, for I felt that every day I was loving +you more; I should certainly have committed some folly, for you did not +answer my letters, and your door was pitilessly closed to me, when one +morning a man whom I did not know came to propose that I should carry +you off and bring you on board my yacht. I confess that I did not for +an instant trouble myself as to how the man had learned of my love +for you; I saw only the end to be attained. He spoke to me with such +assurance that I accepted his offer: we agreed upon the condition. I +promised him a certain sum if he should succeed, and the same if he +would keep silent. He has succeeded; that is why we are this moment +descending the East River, and why I am at your feet asking your +forgiveness and begging you to forgive me.” + +“We will talk about it at another time.” + +“I have obtained a three months’ leave from the Secretary of War, and I +have told my family that I should be absent on a trip to the South.” + +“The plan is perfectly arranged; it lacks only my consent.” + +“It is late to refuse me that.” + +“Do you think so?” + +“I hope so.” + +“What of poor Saunders?” + +“Oh! I beg you, don’t mention his name.” + +“You know that he will kill you when he learns what has happened.” + +“That would not be a misfortune unless he killed me before you make me +happy by loving me.” + +Ada could not resist this chivalrous sally of the colonel. She answered +by holding out her two little hands, which he pressed warmly in his own. + +“Well, I am conquered. We will shake hands; no one could have done +more brusquely or more gallantly. But I cannot remain in this carnival +dress.” + +“I foresaw that,” answered the colonel, rising; “you will find there,” +pointing to a cabin, the door of which was partly open, “all that you +need. If anything is wanting we can send one of my men to New York for +it tomorrow.” + +“Really, you are charming,” answered the young woman, with a smile. “I +will join you in a moment.” + +“While waiting for you, I shall order supper. You must be dying of +hunger.” + +“Truly, I am. You forget nothing,” saying which she disappeared in the +adjoining cabin. + +In less than a quarter of an hour she returned, attired in a lovely +robe of blue silk. They seated themselves at a table, delicately +served, and Colonel Forster, as a prelude to the repast, gave an ardent +toast to the beauty of his passenger. + +The yacht was steaming out into the main roads, and all this time the +unhappy Saunders, who had settled down in his own home and divested +himself of his Highland costume, was in the depths of despair, +wondering what could have become of his beloved Miss Ada Ricard. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ROBERTSON BROTHERS & CO. + + +Notwithstanding his chagrin, the Hon. Saunders finally succumbed to +fatigue and fell asleep. When he awoke--toward one o’clock in the +afternoon--and his valet told him that no caller or letter had come, he +sprang from his bed, dressed in haste, and, without allowing himself +more for breakfast than about a dozen sandwiches, washed down by half a +dozen cups of tea, he jumped into a cab, ordering the driver to stop at +No. 17 East Twenty-third Street. Ten minutes later he arrived. + +“Is there any news?” he asked the servant who opened the door. + +“Nothing, sir,” answered the man, who would have been greatly +embarrassed to have been obliged to deliver a longer sentence, for he +was still half intoxicated on account of the festivity of the evening +before. Saunders quickly ascended the first flight, and found Mary in +Ada’s apartment. She was quietly arranging dresses and linen. + +“Well,” he asked, sinking into an arm-chair, “so madam has not +returned?” + +“No,” replied the maid; “but I have heard from her.” + +“And you did not tell me at once.” + +The stout merchant made a movement as if to rise. + +Mary stopped him with a gesture, saying-- + +“Oh, sir! it is because the news will not afford you much pleasure.” + +“What--what is the matter? Nothing has happened to madam? But tell me; +you make my blood boil.” + +“Not more than a quarter of an hour ago I received a letter from Miss +Ada. Here it is.” + +Saunders tore from the maid’s hands the letter she held out to him, +and, after reading it, uttered an angry cry. The letter contained five +lines only, but they were enough to drive the loving Yankee mad. + +“My good Mary,” she said, “put the house in order, dismiss the +servants, giving each a fortnight’s extra pay, and wait for me +patiently. I shall be absent a month, at least; perhaps two or three. I +rely upon you--Ada Ricard.” + +“What does all this mean?” he cried, at last, when he had recovered his +speech. + +“I know no more than you, sir,” answered the maid. “You see I am +fulfilling madam’s orders.” + +“And not a word for me,” groaned the unhappy man, crushing in his hand +the cruel letter. “Ah! the cheat shall pay for it. Who brought the +note?” + +“An unknown messenger, who must belong to another neighborhood.” + +“Didn’t you ask where he came from?” + +“He spoke to the cook and immediately left. His errand was no doubt +paid for in advance.” + +Saunders buried his face in his big hands and murmured-- + +“O, yes, I will avenge myself, but how?” + +Mary, shrugging her shoulders, had resumed her work. + +An excellent idea evidently was suddenly working in the troubled mind +of the cracker-merchant, for, rising abruptly, and without addressing +a word to the unfeeling servant, he left the room and house of his +faithless Ada. + +“To the central office of the police,” he ordered as he climbed into +his carriage. The chief of the metropolitan police was at that time +a Mr. Kelly, who was always spoken of as “Fat Kelly,” a very large, +churlish man, often rough but quite intelligent, and possessing besides +all the scepticism indispensable to his important duties. Saunders sent +in his card, but Fat Kelly, before receiving him, rang for one of his +secretaries in order to obtain some information about his visitor. Five +minutes later this clerk handed his chief a note as follows: + + Willie Saunders, wealthy cracker-merchant, vain, of ordinary + intelligence, very much smitten with a woman, Ada Ricard, on whom he + has already lavished $100,000 or more. Willie Saunders is worth at + least a million and a half. + +“Very well, show him in,” ordered the chief of police, after becoming +acquainted with this not very flattering document, of whose existence +Saunders was certainly ignorant. + +Summoned by an office boy, the unfortunate merchant plunged like an +avalanche into Mr. Kelly’s private office. + +The latter gentleman could not conceal the pleasant, spontaneous smile +which wreathed his lips at the sight of a man almost as stout as he; +but, his nature gaining the ascendancy, he hastened to say in a curt +tone to the grotesque individual: + +“What do you wish? Be quick, I have a load of business on hand.” + +Without being greatly disconcerted--for he was so completely absorbed +in his own anxieties that he heeded nothing--Saunders answered: + +“I have come, sir, to request your most powerful protection; I am the +victim.” + +“Of a theft? Where, how? Of what sum? Is the guilty man, or him you +suppose guilty, one of your employes?” + +“No sir; I----” + +“So much the better, for theft by anyone in your pay is an aggravating +case.” + +“But, sir, it is not a case of theft.” + +“Ah! What is it then?” + +“Kidnapping, sir; real kidnapping.” + +“They have carried off your wife, your daughter?” + +“I am not married.” + +“Who, then? Your mother, or your sister, or your cousin, or your aunt? +Devil take it, do be precise. I can’t guess and enumerate all your +family.” + +“They have carried off my Ada.” + +“Your Ada, who has had your hundred thousand dollars, and who, of +course, deceives you.” + +“Sir, are you acquainted?” + +“And who has carried off this interesting person? One of her lovers? +What do you wish me to do? There has been no violence.” + +“Oh, yes; on the contrary.” + +“No; it is improbable, inadmissable; consequently I can have nothing +to do with your affair. I wish you a very good day. Go and make your +claims for Miss Ada elsewhere. What have I to do with such matters? +You are wealthy; this lady will return to you some day, be sure of it. +And you will receive her, and she will make you believe anything she +wishes, and you will ask her pardon. You are all great fools, one as +much as the other.” + +And Fat Kelly, drawing a bundle of papers toward him, began to turn +them over in furious haste, without paying further attention to his +visitor. + +Saunders, in spite of his moderate intelligence, as the descriptive +document stated, understood that he would obtain nothing from the chief +of the police, and without bowing, which did not disturb the latter at +all, but deeply humiliated, and grumbling aloud with a freedom wholly +American, he left the office of the intractable police officer. But +when he reached the threshold of the administrative office where he +thought to find assistance and protection, he questioned himself as to +what he should do, and perhaps he was about to decide to go to Colonel +Forster’s house, when an individual accosted him and said politely: + +“You seem greatly annoyed, sir.” + +“What is that to you?” was the gruff answer. + +“Why,” replied the unknown, without being ruffled by this cool +reception, “because if you did not obtain the information you desire +from the central office, I might be able to give it to you.” + +“You?” + +“Or at least the important house of Robertson Brothers & Co., of which +I have the honor to be one of the head clerks.” + +“The house of Robertson & Co.?” + +“Yes, sir, the most honorable, most discreet, and the safest agency----” + +Saunders, the stout, tapped his forehead; he understood. + +The man who was addressing him was simply one of those ferrets by whom +the informing agencies scour the city. The most skilful of all its +rivals, the house of Robertson Bros. & Co., always had one of its men +standing around in the neighborhood of Mr. Kelly’s offices, in order to +recruit on the way some client for whom the official police had refused +to become the instrument. It must have been Heaven that sent Saunders +this aid. + +“Where is your office?” he asked the agent. + +“In Nineteenth Street, No. 22,” answered the clerk. + +“Close to her,” murmured Saunders, with a sigh. + +“What did you say?” + +“Nothing, come into my cab, give the address to the coachman, and take +me to the house.” + +The man obeyed, and in a quarter of an hour the carriage stopped before +a very honest-looking house, whose mahogany door bore on a large copper +plate: “Robertson Bros. & Co., solicitors.” + +Messrs. Robertson Bros. & Co. make a great deal of money, but they have +a better reputation than their professional brethren. They even pass +for honest people and that explains itself, for all New York knew the +causes of the creation of their agency, which, at the time when the +events took place herein described, had been established but three or +four years. + +It was well known that Mr. Robertson, Sr., had founded his +establishment merely through political spite and hatred toward Mr. +Kelly, the chief of the metropolitan police. + +A candidate for election at the same time as Kelly, Edward Robertson +had been beaten by his rival, after a fierce contention and a truly +American exchange of invectives. Robertson reproached Kelly with being +an ignorant, drunken brute; Kelly accused his competitor of being +ambitious, a slaveholder, and libertine. + +The Yankee electors no doubt preferred the faults of Kelly to those of +Robertson, since they nominated Kelly; but when Robertson learned that +his enemy was called to the important functions of the chief of police, +he judged that the moment had come to avenge himself. Then he organized +his agency of secret police, in order to test his skill against that of +the official police of his former adversary. + +He relied upon occasions, not lacking, to show the superiority of +his mind over that of his victor in the elections, and he hoped that +his victories would enable him some day to take his revenge in a new +political struggle. Several times already, in cases where Fat Kelly had +failed, notwithstanding the aid of all his policemen and detectives, +Messrs. Robertson had succeeded; and it can be easily judged whether +Robertson, senior, was proud of his victories, and had made them tell +for the reputation of his house. + +Saunders, who was well acquainted with this police rivalry and these +strange customs, crossed the threshold of the house of Robertson +Brothers & Co., without the least repugnance. + +After leading him to a small, severely furnished room on the ground +floor, his guide introduced him into the private office of one of the +chiefs of the agency. + +The love-sick manufacturer of crackers found himself in the presence +of a man hardly thirty years old, freshly shaven, with hair curled +(pomaded), foppishly dressed, and having no indication on his +physiognomy of the interloping police officer. + +As he partly reclined in a spacious leather arm chair before a large +desk loaded with documents, with his white hand and smiling lips, one +would have taken him for a young member of Congress. + +“Mr. Robertson?” asked Saunders. + +“Robertson, Jr.,” answered the second head of the house, slightly +bowing, and signing to his visitor to be seated. “To whom have I the +honor of speaking?” + +“Willie Saunders, sir.” + +“Mr. Willie Saunders, the proprietor of the great manufacturies in +Brooklyn, the noted Mr. Saunders?” + +“The very one, sir.” + +Greatly flattered at being so well known, the poor man took an +arm-chair and tried to settle his mind. + +After a few moments of meditation, he said: “This is what brings me +here, sir. A young woman in whom I am deeply interested, Miss Ada +Ricard, was carried off yesterday during a ball that she was giving at +her house, No. 17 East Twenty-third Street.” + +“Carried off!” interrupted Robertson, Jr. + +“Yes, sir, carried off!” And Saunders related in detail the event of +which he had been a witness; then, with many groans, he told what the +maid had said about her mistress, and his useless application at the +central office of the metropolitan police. + +“You think, then,” said the young man, who had listened without +interrupting, “that Colonel Forster is the kidnapper?” + +“I think so,” answered the jealous man, with flashing eyes. + +“You would like to make certain of it?” + +“Yes, and to know what has become of Miss Ada. Is that possible?” + +“Everything is possible; it is only a question of price.” + +“Set your own.” + +“It is necessary first that I should have a likeness of the lady.” + +“I always carry one.” + +Poor Saunders drew forth a photograph and presented it to Robertson. + +“She is very pretty,” said the latter, gallantly. + +“Alas, yes,” sighed the stout man. + +“Let me ask you a few questions? Are you married? Have you +children--daughters in particular?” + +“Why do you ask?” + +“You will understand. If you have children--daughters especially--we +shall have to act with the greatest caution in order to avoid scandal, +in the interest of decency, which needs no explanation. Then our +expenses would be larger, and consequently our commission higher.” + +“Very well. No; I am a single man.” + +“That is perfect. One thing more. How much money have you spent in your +devotion to this bewitching Miss Ada?” + +“How much must I----” + +“Of course, you will see why. You are very rich and generous. If +you have spent but little for Miss Ada, it is because you love her +moderately; consequently, you have only a moderate desire to find her. +If, on the contrary, you open your purse wide, it is because you are +deeply in love with her; therefore, you have a proportionate desire to +see her again. Now, our search and movements being regulated by your +sentiments, it is indispensable that we should be exactly informed.” + +The worthy Robertson, Jr., expressed himself so coldly and calmly but +also with such precision, and moreover with such logic as regarded his +estimable business, that Saunders could but give an approving wave of +the hand, saying in answer: + +“You are right. Well, Miss Ada has had a big pile of money from me, and +because I love her still, and because I wish to avenge myself on her +and her kidnappers, I subscribe in advance to your conditions.” + +“If it is Colonel Forster who carried off this young woman he is a +formidable adversary,” he observed. + +“Then what will it cost?” + +“Then, my dear sir, it will cost five hundred dollars, in advance; then +you will give us five hundred dollars more on the day when I shall have +the pleasure of informing you what became of Miss Ada Ricard, and where +you must go to find her.” + +For answer, Willie Saunders majestically handed a check to Mr. +Robertson, Jr., saying-- + +“As for the other five hundred dollars, when you give me the +information you promise you can have a check.” + +“That will be in a few days, I hope. But try nothing on your part; you +might, without meaning it, counteract some of my plans.” + +“I will be careful, sir. Ah, don’t mislay that photograph, I beg, as it +is the only one I possess. I have destroyed all the others.” + +“I will return it, with my note.” + +“I did not wish Miss Ada to have a single one to give away.” + +“That was prudent.” + +“It has served me well.” + +“Ah, do not too quickly accuse that charming woman; she may have been +the victim of some violence.” + +“But her letter, sir, her letter to her maid.” + +“Who can assert that she was not forced to write? Be calm and patient; +remain quietly at home, and have confidence in the house of Robertson +Brothers & Co.; it has solved mysteries more difficult than yours. From +to-day your interests are ours.” + +Touched by these kind words, the unfortunate cracker-merchant deigned +to extend a hand to Mr. Robertson, Jr., and returned home more +cheerful. The days, however, seemed endless to him, and, although +he did not find in Mary a very faithful echo of his grief, he could +not help going three or four times in every twenty-four hours to No. +17 East Twenty-third Street. But at each call the maid invariably +answered: “Since madam has written that she will be absent a month at +least, do as I do--wait.” + +Saunders went along Twenty-third Street holding on to the railings of +the houses, for his step had become feeble. + +The adventure was noised abroad; thanks to the servants who had been +dismissed, people knew the slightest details, and Miss Ada’s unhappy +lover was the laughing-stock of every one. They watched his coming and +going, but he was so completely absorbed in his sad thoughts that he +perceived nothing of it. + +When he was at home, the business instinct roused him a little from his +preoccupation, but his mind quickly reverted to its one thought, and he +changed so from hour to hour that he became pitiable to behold. Those +of his friends who at first had most mercilessly joked him now pitied +him. + +Matters remained thus four days, and Saunders becoming very anxious at +Messrs. Robertson Brothers’ long silence was about to call upon them, +when one morning he received a large envelope, proudly bearing the seal +of this honorable house. He hastened to open it. It contained Miss +Ada’s picture, a letter of a few lines and a very long note, headed +“Confidential.” + + SIR--The enclosed document proves to you that we have succeeded + according to your wishes. We have spared neither skill nor any + possible step, and we have the honor of reminding you that upon + presenting the said document you have to pay us a sum of five + hundred dollars. Our clerk, the bearer of this paper, will give you + a receipt. We have not forgotten that we are ready to follow your + orders in this affair. + + Yours, respectfully, etc., etc. + +Willie Saunders, deeply impressed, quickly turned to read the note of +Messrs. Robertson Brothers & Co., solicitors, which was drawn up in the +following style: + + Miss Ada Ricard, carried off from her house on the night of Tuesday + last, left in a carriage hired by an unknown man the night before + from Mr. Thompson, No. 4 Sixth Avenue, for the sum of twenty-five + dollars for twenty-four hours. The stranger said that this carriage + would have to take him to several masked balls, that he did not wish + any footmen, for his own would accompany him, and that he would come + for the carriage himself when he needed it. They had it ready for + him, and he arrived at half-past one in the morning, with two men + in large dominos and masks. He wore a heavy cloak, but, although he + also was masked, it was easy to recognize by his headgear that he + was costumed as an Indian. The coachman was named Tom Katters. By + the order of the unknown man he drove to East Twenty-third Street, + where he remained in the file of carriages standing before No. 17. + One of the dominos alighted and disappeared for about half an hour. + At the end of this time he returned and exchanged a few words in a + foreign language with the other two masks, who got out of the landau. + They had removed their dominos and were all three disguised as Sioux + Indians. Before leaving, one of the three men, who seemed to command + the others, gave his instructions to Tom Katters. The latter was + to stand directly before the door of the house and when the three + travelers returned to start his horses off at a gallop. They gave + him five dollars extra to induce him to be exact in obeying orders, + and promised him as much more if he would prove himself intelligent. + In less than twenty minutes after their departure the three masks + returned. The largest bore in his arms a woman, who was laughing; he + got into the landau with her; the other two Indians mounted the box + with Katters, who, according to their order, drove at full speed up + Twenty-third Street as far as First Avenue. A little beyond Hell Gate + the two men sprang down to the sidewalk, and after telling Katters to + pursue his course to the entrance of Yorkville, they disappeared. + Katters obeyed, and did not stop until he had reached the place + indicated. There the only remaining traveler in his turn alighted. He + bore the young woman in his arms, because the ground was damp with + the rain, and he was reassuring her, no doubt, for Katters heard him + say: “It has rained cats and dogs, but we have arrived.” + +“Miserable cheat,” murmured Saunders, whose anger increased at each one +of these details; “she had an understanding with her kidnappers. Oh! I +shall avenge myself.” And, washing down this vow with a large glass of +sherry, he resumed his reading. + +The report continued in these terms: + + Before leaving, the unknown man gave the promised five dollars to + the coachman, and the latter, without disturbing himself as to + what was to become of his generous client, turned his horses round + and returned to the city. It seems certain that the man and woman + immediately went to the East River to embark in a boat waiting for + them, for James Davis, the mate of the steamer Liberia, remembered + having seen, while he was on watch Tuesday or Wednesday night, at + three o’clock, below Blackwell’s Island, a yawl, rowed by an Indian, + and in the stern of which sat a woman. This yawl passed so close to + the Liberia that it came near being capsized, and the frightened + passenger uttered a cry of fear. Our information permits us to add + that Colonel Forster, Monday, had his yacht, the Gleam, conveyed to + the Brooklyn wharf, which he visited Tuesday, and this same yacht + was provisioned for a trip of a certain number of weeks. Wednesday, + in the day-time, the Gleam passed before Castle Garden, and a young, + elegant woman was plainly seen on board. Then it took the route for + Staten Island, and there it came to anchor on account of some injury + to one of its cylinders. Captain Reynolds, who commands the Gleam, + having sent ashore for workmen, one of my agents quietly slipped in + among them, and easily recognized Miss Ada, owing to the photograph + he had in his hands. The same agent learned that as soon as the Gleam + was repaired it put out to sea for some unknown destination. It would + be impossible to say how long this voyage or excursion will last, for + Colonel Forster, who has not left shipboard, has a leave of absence + for three months. + + If Mr. Willie Saunders desires, the house of Robertson Brothers & Co. + can hire a steamboat, and one of the most intelligent agents can set + out in pursuit of the fugitives. Mr. Robertson, Jr., will wait for + the instructions of Mr. Willie Saunders. The hiring of this steamer + will cost one hundred dollars a day. Mr. Willie Saunders must deposit + one thousand dollars in advance, which shall be paid to Messrs. + Robertson Brothers & Co., whatever the result and duration of the + expedition. + +“Well, that is an idea,” murmured the stout man, whom anger and the +desire for vengeance made ready for anything; “Robertson Brothers & Co. +are men of skill. Yes, even if it costs me double and treble what they +ask, I will confound the wretch. Ah! that brutal Kelly imagines that I +will forgive him. Well, we will see.” + +And in a state of fierce excitement, Saunders took his hat and rushed +to the door of his office. + +“Pardon, sir,” said an individual, stopping him on the way, and who +had been there a long time and whom he had quite forgotten, “pardon, +you have five hundred dollars to remit by me.” + +“Ah! that is true,” answered the cracker-merchant, recognizing the +clerk of the agency. “Present that at the bank.” + +He had scrawled an order in one of the pages of his note-book, and +handed it to the man. + +Then he jumped into the first cab which he saw and was driven to the +police intelligence office, where Robertson, Junior, received him, as +on his first visit. + +“Sir,” said Saunders to him, “your idea of pursuing Miss Ada’s +kidnapper seems to me excellent. I approve of it, but be prompt. +According to the information you have sent me, Colonel Forster’s yacht +may still be at anchor off Staten Island, and if I could reach there +before her departure----” + +“What! you wish to go yourself,” observed the elegant Robertson. + +“Yes, myself. I wish to provoke that insolent officer, and avenge +myself afterwards on the woman who has made sport of me.” + +“You know our conditions?” + +“Here are the thousand dollars in advance.” + +“That is perfect,” said the agent, slipping the check into his safe; +“be at Battery wharf in two hours; we will set out together. I am +really interested in this affair, and would like to accompany you +myself.” + +Saunders was profuse in thanks, and returned home to make his +preparations. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HONORABLE WILLIE SAUNDERS BECOMES THOROUGHLY MAD. + + +Two hours later, when the cracker-merchant reached the place of +rendezvous, convulsively pressing the enormous six-shot revolver in his +pocket, he espied Mr. Robertson, Jr. + +“You see,” said the latter, “that with the house of Robertson Brothers +& Co., you have only to express the wish.” + +“And a check,” Willie Saunders might have answered. + +But silently he proceeded to the little steamer which was under steam, +alongside the wharf. It was a screw propeller, small at the bow, and of +elegant shape, which could easily make her twelve miles an hour. + +“The Firefly was just manned and free,” resumed the agent, joining Miss +Ada’s poor lover. “Her owner was exacting, but I did not hesitate.” + +“Let us embark, then; let us embark,” said Saunders, who acted like a +madman. + +“Let us go on board,” repeated Mr. Robertson, Jr., and, pointing out +the way to his victim, he quietly crossed the planking, the boards of +which groaned under the infinitely great weight of the heavy Yankee. + +The Firefly was immediately unmoored. Two moments later, it was sailing +out in the harbor in order to double the point at Brooklyn. + +“Three o’clock,” said the agent of the lavish client, after having +consulted a superb chronometer which was fastened to his waistcoat by a +massive guard-chain. + +“So much the better,” answered Saunders; “we can anchor nearer the +Gleam without being recognized. There will be the devil to pay if, +during the evening or night, the wretch does not betray her presence on +board her lover’s boat. Then, tomorrow morning, I swear, this doomed +colonel must exchange a few pistol shots with me, or I will kill him +like a dog, and her afterwards.” + +“Dear sir, don’t commit any act of violence in my presence, at least. +I should not like to be accused of complicity in such an affair. Come, +calm yourself a little. In the first place, if you will take my advice, +be less expressive, and don’t talk so loud about your business. It is +not necessary for my crew to know the cause of this little trip.” + +“Yes, you are right; but, truly, I am beside myself. To have been duped +in this manner--” + +It was while walking the deck of the Firefly that these gentlemen +exchanged these thoughts. They remained on deck until the steward +announced that dinner was ready. + +Saunders’ first impulse was to refuse to go to the dining-room, but +Robertson, Jr., proved so convincingly that dieting was injurious to +mind and body, that the unfortunate merchant finally placed himself at +the table, and ate with a very good appetite. + +The dinner was just ended, when the captain of the steamboat notified +his passengers that they were nearing Staten Island, and that the Gleam +was in the harbor. + +The stout New Yorker made but one bound from the room to the deck. + +It was night, and the sky indicated that it was to be dark and stormy. +Nevertheless, one could see plainly enough to distinguish Colonel +Forster’s yacht, which was at anchor near the shore. + +After taking time to wrap himself in his overcoat, Mr. Robertson, Jr., +with a cigar in his mouth, cool, calculating, and methodical as usual, +joined the irascible Saunders. + +“Suppose we cross the bows of the Gleam at once,” proposed the latter. + +“Don’t think of such a thing, dear sir,” answered the agent. “In the +first place, I think that our captain would refuse, the maritime law +having foreseen this kind of collision on the part of a boat in motion +with a ship at anchor; besides, how would it help you? You do not wish, +I suppose, to rejoin Miss Ada Ricard by such a dangerous movement?” + +“I must see her,” was the answer. + +“Have patience. Besides, I do not think she is on board at this moment. +You will observe that the porthole of the main cabin does not show any +light. I should not be surprised if Colonel Forster was at this moment +in his country house at Staten Island, yonder, a hundred steps from +shore.” + +“We must assure ourselves of it.” + +“That is why we are going to anchor here.” + +Without consulting his unhappy client any further, Mr. Robinson, Jr., +ran to give his instructions to the commander of the Firefly, who stood +in the stern near the helm. Two minutes had hardly elapsed before the +chain was payed out through the hawse-hole, and the anchor of the yacht +lay at the bottom of the bay. They were only about half a cable’s +length, that is a hundred metres, from the Gleam. + +“Then you believe that Colonel Forster is not on board?” asked Saunders +of the agent. + +“I am sure of it,” answered the latter. “If your rival were on the +Gleam it would not be so still, for he would be anxious about our +arrival and anchoring so near him.” + +“I have an idea, my dear sir.” + +“What is it?” + +“Do you know where the colonel’s villa is?” + +“Perfectly well; if the fog were not so dense we could see the lighted +windows from here.” + +“What do you think of taking a little walk on land? If Forster is at +home it would be easier for me to meet him than on board ship.” + +“That is true; but you will observe that the night is very dark and the +sea quite rough.” + +“If you are afraid, I will go alone.” + +“The heads of the house of Robertson & Co. are afraid of nothing or +nobody, Mr. Saunders. I will have a boat manned for you and will not +leave you;” and immediately giving the necessary orders, the young man +preceded the stout Yankee on the ladder, to the foot of which a boat +came instantly. It was a graceful, solid fishing boat, in which the +worst weather might have been braved. Four vigorous sailors manned it. +Robertson, Junior, and Saunders placed themselves in the stern, and +the latter, who had been a seaman in his youth, took hold of the helm, +ordering the men to push off. The boat moved off, heading toward land. +The agent, guiding himself by the lights on the island, indicated the +route to his companion; but the fog soon became so thick that just as +they were about to enter the channel which leads to the harbor, the +boatmen had to rest their oars. + +“Listen!” said Saunders, suddenly leaning over on a level with the +water in order to try to pierce the fog; and Robertson listened. They +heard distinctly, coming from the land, a regular sound of the oars of +a boat vigorously worked. + +“Ah,” said the agent, “there are fine fellows who know their route +better than we do ours.” + +The boat, in fact, was rapidly approaching. Suddenly a metallic, +silvery laugh echoed by the sonorous waves, made Mr. Saunders give a +bound. + +“It is she, the cheat!” he growled. “Row, boys, row. Let us reach the +entrance of the channel before them. A hundred dollars to you if we go +in first.” + +Stimulated by this promise, the sailors of the Firefly bent over their +oars and the boat sped along like an arrow. + +But Colonel Forster’s boat--for it was really he who was returning to +his yacht--was not so far away as the cracker-merchant thought. Lost to +sight in the bank of fog, he did not see it coming, or rather, perhaps, +did not wish to see it, and before the agent could avoid it, by a turn +of the rudder, a frightful collision took place between the two boats. +The shock was so severe that the fishing boat, receiving it abreast, +careened about, heading to shore, from which it was separated by a +few yards only, and on which the sea dashed heavily. As for the yawl +being driven to the other side of the channel, its situation was still +more grave. At the same instant, as if to prove it, a terrible cry was +heard--a woman’s cry--whose tone sent a chill of horror through Mr. +Saunders, who, thrown backwards from his seat, and covered with water +and spray, had been flung upon the sandy shore. Then it seemed to him +that a second cry, stifled like a sob, succeeded the first, and, with +his eyes looking haggard and his hair standing on end, he tried to leap +into the waves, but Robertson stopped him. + +“It is she, it is she! I wish at least to try and save her!” he cried, +endeavoring to free himself. + +“Are you mad?” answered the young man, holding him firmly. “If anything +has happened you do not know where. If Miss Ada has not been saved by +those accompanying her it is too late, for the tide is going out.” + +The agent had spoken truly, the fog had become so dense that one could +not distinguish anything two steps off. Moreover, on account of the +tide going out, the sea was so rough at that place in the channel, that +the best rower could not struggle a single second against the current +and waves. + +In despair at his powerlessness, and frightened at the consequences of +his angry act, the unfortunate Yankee had fallen to the ground. There, +oppressed and breathless, he listened attentively to the sounds of the +deep, in the hopes of catching some sign of life to relieve him. But +none reached him. He heard only the murmuring ripples on the shore. The +bank of fog extended around him like a winding-sheet, and the silence +of death reigned over the whole bay. Meanwhile the sailors of the +Firefly, happy at getting off with a cold bath, plugged up the hole +which the collision had made in the boat, and were setting it afloat. +They succeeded after an hour’s labor. Saunders imagined that a whole +century had passed, when Robertson, rousing him from his exhaustion, +told him to embark. The fog had lifted a little and they perceived +beyond them, like a star in the gray sky, the headlight of the Firefly. + +Transported so suddenly from his peaceful life into the most frightful +tragedy, the unhappy Saunders obeyed, tottering toward the boat. When +once embarked he fell heavily upon the locker of the stern, but he was +careful not to take hold of the helm again. Remembering with horror the +use he had made of it an hour before, he feared that it might burn his +hands. + +“Great God!” cried Mr. Robertson, all at once: “the Gleam has put off.” + +Roused from his dejection by these words, Saunders wildly peered across +the bay. + +The Firefly alone was tossing at anchor. + +“This is an ugly trip and a sad affair,” said the agent to his +companion. + +“Horrible! dear sir, horrible!” repeated the latter in a choked voice. + +“Evidently some misfortune has happened, and Colonel Forster, in order +not to be compromised, for he could not suppose we were there for his +sake, has gone to sea, or he would have remained in the roads. In any +case, how can the truth be known?” + +“Yes; how?” + +Then, seized by a sudden inspiration, Saunders continued, addressing +the sailors: + +“Boys, there is a hundred dollars for each of you if you do not tell a +word about what has just happened.” + +“That is understood, sir,” answered the seamen in chorus, who, however, +did not know the reason of the presence of this stout passenger on +board the steamboat, and had seen in the meeting of the two boats only +one of those accidents at sea which they almost daily witnessed or took +part in. They did not suspect that the life of a woman was at stake, +and that, perhaps, she was drowned with her other companions, excepting +through the exclamations of Saunders himself. + +Ten minutes later the fishing-boat came alongside the Firefly, and +Robertson learned that the Gleam had raised anchor but half an hour +before. + +The fog had not prevented them from seeing in what direction it had +gone. However, in the hope of meeting his rival at daybreak, Saunders +did not wish to leave the roads; but the next day the steamer made the +circuit of Staten Island in vain; the Gleam had wholly disappeared. + +There was but one course to take, to return to New York and preserve +silence about the frightful scene, in which the cracker-merchant had +played so compromising a part. The unfortunate Yankee understood it; he +handed each of the sailors the promised one hundred dollars, and with +remorse gnawing at his heart he hid in his cabin, and did not leave +it until Robertson told him that the Firefly was again moored to the +Battery. + +Night permitted him to land and reach his house without being +recognized, but when he entered his room he shut himself in as if he +had all Mr. Kelly’s agents on his tracks, and he fell into an alarming +state of nervous prostration. His night was terrible, and the next day +he strictly forbade admission, even guarding his door, and would not +read a paper or exchange a word with his household. He refused even +to hear about business. This lasted four days, and he began to grow +somewhat calm, when his valet, disobeying orders, handed him toward +three o’clock, a paper marked “personal and urgent,” and bearing the +seal of the central office of the police. The unhappy Saunders opened +the letter trembling, and, when he had glanced over five lines, he +felt himself grow pale with fear. He had read: + + The chief of the metropolitan police invites Mr. William Saunders + to appear without fail at the central office to furnish all the + information within his knowledge in regard to the disappearance of + Miss Ada Ricard. + +What should he say to that brutal Kelly, whose rudeness he had already +experienced? Could he preserve enough self-possession not to compromise +himself? Was the event at Staten Island discovered, or still unknown? +Why should the chief of police, who would not listen to him when he +went to beg him to seek Ada Ricard, disturb himself to-day about her +disappearance? + +All these questions, which he did not know how to answer, succeeded +each other in the shattered brain of the ex-lover of Miss Ada, and he +trembled in advance at the idea of the questioning which he should have +to undergo. + +However, he resigned himself to obey, and, after laying out a course +from which he promised himself he would not depart, and trying his best +to be calm, he appeared before the terrible Kelly. + +The chief of police received him immediately, but five minutes later +the stout Saunders reeled out of the central office with a pale, +disturbed countenance, and his forehead bathed in a cold sweat. He +jumped into his cab and said to the coachman, in accents of terror: + +“To the Bellevue Hospital.” + +Forty-eight hours before an event had occurred which strangely excited +public curiosity, but of which Saunders did not know, for since his +dramatic expedition he had not left the house or read a paper. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +SHAKESPEARE’S TAVERN. + + +The sign on this tavern was not spelled exactly as we have given it at +the head of this chapter. Shakespeare was printed on it in two words, +so that if it recalled the celebrated English tragic poet to the rare +literary men who crossed its threshold, it meant only the “Tavern of +the Skilful Spearman” to the sailors, wharfingers, lumpers, and others +who were the ordinary frequenters. + +Situated on the wharf, on South Street, opposite Brooklyn, this tavern +was admirably placed as regards patrons. Besides, the police kept a +pretty sharp eye upon it, and affrays, pistol-shots, and violent scenes +were less frequent there than elsewhere. + +This was because it was managed by two jolly fellows, who needed no +help to maintain order in the establishment. They were Honorables +Thomas Bright and Davidson, two of the most celebrated boxers in the +United States, formerly bloodthirsty adversaries, but now excellent +friends and associates, so true is it that the closest friendship is +that which exists between men who have fought each other after having +mutually knocked out each other’s teeth and administered the most +terrible black eyes. Thomas Bright and Davidson said to each other +that they had done enough for the public and their reputation, but +too little for their future, and, uniting their savings, they founded +Shakespeare’s tavern, which soon became the most attractive and paying +den of the kind. + +The establishment occupied the ground floor of a large room adorned +with heavy tables and benches firmly fastened to the walls and floor, +that they might not be transformed into murderous missiles in the hands +of drunkards, and had a huge bar with a tin top, and an army of pint +measures of the same metal. + +Around this bar crowded stray patrons, passers-by, and curious +idlers; in short, those who were not initiated in the delights of the +oyster-room, which one reached only by stumbling down a long flight of +stairs, doubly dangerous because the steps were damp, and an almost +complete darkness reigned, even in broad daylight. At the first step to +the vault of this crypt one coughed, seized in the throat, as it were, +by a dense, hot atmosphere, laden with a thousand varied emanations, +and it was some moments before the eyes could see through the thick +mist formed at the foot of the stairs by the air, which, by reason of +physical laws, sought to renew itself in the atmosphere without. + +This second room was less scantily furnished than that on the ground +floor. There were tables and movable chairs, and a very large buffet, +laden with fresh and salted meats. Above an immense oven there was a +gridiron made to receive a whole ox. + +The ground was macadamized, and the walls, once white, were now black, +excepting in spots, where, owing to the contact of shoulders, they +seemed gray, and were illustrated with primitive designs and mottoes +which we need not translate. A dozen gas jets, clouded in the smoke, +looking like nebulæ in the mist, lighted as well as they could, if not +as well as they ought, this underground region, which was invaded by +familiar patrons until they had made a day of it. + +At the moment when we ask our readers to follow us into the oyster-room +of Shakespeare’s tavern--that is, forty-eight hours after the sad +expedition of Willie Saunders to Staten Island--the house was already +full, although the night was far advanced. The damp, cold atmosphere +had driven from the wharf all the laborers whose presence could be +spared, and only stragglers remained on it. Certain wharfingers +themselves had deserted their posts. Besides these, here and there +one saw, around tables covered with glasses of hot gin, sailors of +every country waiting for the time to go aboard. One of these groups +had so victoriously struggled against the depressing influence of the +inclement weather without that a rollicking, noisy gaiety prevailed +among them. + +They were the sailors of the Firefly, who had jovially poured from +their pockets into the cash-drawer of Thomas Bright and Davidson poor +Saunders’ dollars--their hush money. + +“Come, one more swig all round,” said one of the sailors; and, rapping +noisily on the table, he shouted: “Here, waiter, fetch us some whiskey, +and mind it is the right stuff, too.” + +“No,” observed his neighbor, “we have had enough for to-day; we ought +to have been back two hours ago. Devil take it, to-morrow will be +daylight. You are drunk, Jim.” + +“Drunk,” replied the latter, “well, Charley, what of it? The fat man +did not give us a hundred dollars apiece for a pension.” + +“It was for no more or less than to make us hold our tongues,” said +Charley, warmly. “No good American sailor will fail to keep his word.” + +The other two sailors nodded approvingly, pointing to the adjoining +tables where the other patrons of Shakespeare’s tavern might hear. + +“There, that’s enough,” grumbled Jim; “we will be as mute as a whale; +but I am thirsty,” and, seizing one of the waiters as he passed, he +ordered four glasses of whiskey. + +It was best for the drunken man’s friends to give in to him. They, +therefore, beckoned to the servant to serve them quietly. Charley then +whispered: + +“While we are lounging here, suppose any one should be robbing us on +board ship, as they robbed Toby the other night on his wharf while he +was drinking, instead of watching over his goods.” + +“What!” sang out a tall fellow enveloped in oil-cloth from head to +foot; “what of Toby robbed? Why, it was his robber who cheated himself.” + +“How’s that?” cried the sailors. + +“Yes, to be sure; instead of taking a barrel of brandy, as, no doubt, +was his intention, he carried off a barrel of tar. If it didn’t stick +to his paws he must have hurled it into the water. Here’s to the health +of the imbecile; although I lost my place through him, I don’t care, +for I have come to Shakespeare’s tavern, and it is much livelier here +than at the head of the river;” and, after noisily touching glasses +with the men of the Firefly, the wharfinger, for it was he, tossed off +his glass of gin at one swallow. + +“I can’t help it, but I feel no security,” said Charley; “for some time +there has been a regular sweep on board ship and along the river. Come, +let’s be on our way, boys.” + +While saying this the seaman had placed Jim’s arm within his, and was +towing him along toward the stairs. + +Toby followed them. + +They arrived at the wharf in this manner, one shoving the other along. + +Day was beginning to break, but the river was still enveloped in +fog. The masts of ships at anchor were faintly outlined above their +invisible hulls. They looked as if suspended in the air. The boat of +the Firefly was moored to one of the piles on the wharf of which Toby +had been watchman only two days. + +“Let us go aboard, boys,” said Charley, hauling in the yawl. + +“Stop; what’s that over there?” asked Toby, suddenly, who had gone to +the edge of the wharf, and was pointing to a floating object which the +motion of the boat had sent ashore; “a foot!” + +“Why, yes, a foot,” said the sailor, raising the member with the end of +his boat-hook; “a foot and a leg.” + +“And all the rest,” continued the watchman; “it is a drowned person. +How heavy it is. There must be a stone around the neck to be +head-downward like this. Come, help me, the rest of you.” + +The sailors leaned over the river, and uniting their efforts brought +to the surface a body, whose unusual weight was soon explained to +them; a barrel of tar was fastened to the left leg. It was by this +half-submerged barrel that this body had been kept under water. + +“It is a woman,” cried Charley. + +“And a superb one.” + +“What an idea to throw her into the river with a barrel of tar.” + +“It is a droll one, to be sure.” + +“A barrel of tar. Perhaps it is the one stolen from me.” + +While exchanging these exclamations, the seamen, aided by Toby, had +raised the body and extended it on the planks of the wharf, without +unfastening from its leg the barrel which a stout rope held secure. + +It was, indeed, the corpse of a young woman. It showed no signs of +wounds and was not decomposed. The face alone was slightly swollen, but +by no means disfigured. + +Hardened as they were to every emotion, the sailors gazed at this body +in horror. The sight of it sobered the drunken men. The men knew that +here before their eyes was the victim of some horrible tragedy. The +discovery of a drowned person, workman or seaman, would not have moved +them; but this woman, young and beautiful, shocked them. + +“We cannot leave her here,” said Charley finally. “Go and notify +Shakespeare’s tavern.” + +The comrade to whom he spoke hurried away from the other side of the +wharf. Toby, with that sentiment of decency, more common than is +believed among the lowest classes, stripped himself of his oil-cloth +suit and covered the nude corpse. + +Ten minutes later, Thomas Bright, Davidson and the patrons who had +lingered in their establishment hastened to the wharf. + +Charley acquainted them with what had passed. + +“Well, my boys, there is only one thing to do,” said Davidson; “summon +the coroner at Saint Vincent and wait for him, and don’t disturb the +body.” + +One of the spectators immediately set out for the police office of the +district, which happened to be in a neighboring street, and several +policemen, whom the crowd had attracted, guarded the body, after +driving away curious idlers on the wharf and retaining about them only +the men of the Firefly and Toby. + +Day had dawned, and the fog had cleared away somewhat. The wharf +presented a strange scene, with the silent, motionless men gathered +around this lifeless body. + +“It is odd,” said Toby, “that I should find my barrel of tar in this +way. It is really mine, for I recognize the mark upon it.” + +“Hold your tongue, you fool,” said Charley, in a low voice; “there will +certainly be a reward for those who put the police on the track of the +assassins; it will be time then to speak.” + +The watchman understood, thanked him with a smile, and became silent +again. In less than a quarter of an hour the coroner arrived with his +secretary. Furious, no doubt, at having been disturbed so early, he +interrupted Charley, who had begun the story of his sad discovery, and +said: + +“That will do; I understand all about it. Now let two willing men carry +this body to the morgue. The rest of you, who drew it out of the water, +must follow me, to make your depositions.” + +Two men raised the body; a third carried the barrel which the coroner +bade them not unfasten. Then, preceded by the policemen, accompanied by +the sailors of the Firefly and Toby, and escorted by curious idlers, +the gloomy procession started off. After walking ten minutes they +reached their destination. The door of the morgue opened to admit the +bearers of the body and witnesses, and closed upon the crowd. In a few +moments the coroner received the depositions of the sailors and the +wharfingers; then, after having taken their names and addresses, he +dismissed them. + +The men on the yacht hastened to their boat to return on board ship, +while Toby, who was careful to show no recognition of the tar barrel, +but who had again donned his oil-cloth suit, went back to the wharf, +where the crowd, which had considerably enlarged, immediately gathered +around him. + +He had to tell his story twenty times over, and news of the event +spread so rapidly that Shakespeare’s tavern, to the great delight of +its honorable proprietors, was soon thronged as on a holiday. + +Meanwhile, the coroner at Saint Vincent had made his report, despatched +the body to the central morgue at Bellevue Hospital, and had presented +himself to Mr. Kelly at the general police office. The fat officer +listened to his subaltern without a shadow of emotion, approved what he +had done and immediately sent an order to the director of the morgue to +photograph the dead woman. + +The corpse was afterwards delivered to Dr. O’Neel in order that the +autopsy might be made without delay. When this was performed it would +be exposed according to the regulations. + +Having given these instructions and dismissed the coroner, the +honorable Kelly quietly proceeded to his dining-room, where, as usual, +he lingered long over his breakfast. Not until three o’clock did he +remember the drowned woman, when he took a cab for Bellevue Hospital. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE MORGUE AT BELLEVUE HOSPITAL. + + +The event having made a great stir through the noon editions of the +papers, an immense crowd gathered in the vicinity of the morgue, and +was with difficulty kept back by twenty policemen. + +The corpse was already exposed, and the impatient crowd were jostling +each other in order to satisfy their curiosity by a sight of it. + +This was the condition of things when the massive Kelly alighted from +his carriage at the door of the Bellevue Hospital. + +The body found in the river by the sailors a few hours before occupied +the middle of the exhibition hall, hardly a yard away from the glass +partition before which the curious filed by. Completely nude, as it +was when taken from the water, excepting a leather apron which reached +the knees. The corpse was seen to be a woman about twenty-five years +old, who must have been remarkably beautiful. With a figure above +medium height, of rich but not exaggerated proportions, her shoulders +and limbs were admirably modeled. Her hands were small, and her feet +not so large as those of a young girl of fifteen. Around her head +floated her long fair hair. Her features were but little disfigured. +Her countenance betrayed no painful struggle except, perhaps, around +her mouth, the upper lip being slightly contorted. Although her eyes +were open, it was difficult to certify to their color, for they were +beginning to be glazed, but one could divine that their now sightless +pupils had cast many a bewitching glance. + +This is what the men said who gazed at it cynically, the majority with +more curiosity than pity, and the policemen had some difficulty in +making the line of spectators, to whom the drowned woman was unknown, +move on. + +At the same time, the chief of police had received Doctor O’Neel’s +report, and, after casting an indifferent glance at the dead, he +returned to his office, where, comfortably ensconced in his large +leather arm-chair, he began to examine the work of the legal physician. + + * * * * * + +The document read as follows: + + The body submitted to my examination and of which I have this day, + Wednesday, made an autopsy, is that of a woman from twenty-two to + twenty-five years old. In spite of its perfect state of preservation + it would be impossible for me to say within two or three days how + long it has been in the water, for the use which the living must have + made of arsenic like a great many American women, with the intention + of preserving the freshness of their complexion and the roundness + of their forms, retards, as is well known, to a great degree the + decomposition of corpses. That which I can attest is that the body is + not that of a drowned woman. Indeed, I have proved that there is no + trace of foam in the larynx. The lungs are congested, but they have + not increased in volume or density. Now the absence of a frothy mucus + in the air passages is an incontestable proof that death is not due + to submersion. This woman had ceased to live when she was thrown into + the water. + + What kind of death did she suffer? This is impossible to state. It + was not a case of strangulation nor poisoning. The neck shows no + sign of violence, and a chemical analysis of the stomach, liver, and + intestines has not so far shown the presence in these organs of any + poisonous substance; but it will be necessary to wait several days to + obtain absolute certainty on this particular. + + No wound, no contusion on the body, excepting above the right knee, + where there is a bluish mark of the rope fastening the tar barrel to + the body, and which, in the belief of the murderer, would hold his + victim at the bottom of the water. + + On the contrary it was this barrel of tar, staved in by fermentation + or the shock, which caused the body to float sooner than it would + otherwise have done. + + The woman had a good constitution and no organic affection. She took + nice care of herself. + + I have observed that among her teeth--which are very beautiful--the + second canine on the right is wanting, and that the inferior lobe of + her left ear bears the scar of an old wound. + + To resume, I think that this woman, surprised in her sleep, must + have been overpowered by inhaling some strong narcotic--chloroform + or ether. But I have not discovered any natural disturbances in the + organs to absolutely confirm my hypothesis. Three or four hours had + elapsed between the death of the victim and her last meal. + + (Signed) O’NEEL, + Head Surgeon at Bellevue Hospital. + +“Well, well, all this is curious,” murmured Fat Kelly. “When this young +woman is recognized, Master Young will put himself in the field; if she +is not recognized then, that dear William Dow must take it up.” + +Master Young, as the chief of the metropolitan police familiarly called +him, was the captain of the detectives. William Dow, whom Kelly so +affectionately designated, was a strange and mysterious character. + +Less than two years before the time in which this story took place, +William Dow was one of the most distinguished, most wealthy, and +honorable physicians in Philadelphia; but one day he suddenly left that +city to establish himself in New York. There he joined the force of the +chief of police, and had gradually become one of his auxiliaries, as a +voluntary aid, who showed himself disinterested and very useful. + +Several times already he had done wonderful things, quietly, by the +means of his sole resources, intelligence, courage, persistency, and +energy. + +What was the reason of this transformation of a doctor into a +policeman? It was a mystery to everyone, even to Mr. Kelly. We may +reveal it some day. + +Meanwhile let us return to the honorable chief of the metropolitan +police of New York, who had rung for his secretary, and had given him +the order to send for Captain Young. The latter appeared a few minutes +later. He was a tall man, about forty years old, built like a giant, +and brave as a lion, but of moderate intelligence, and as obstinate as +a mule. When he was on the wrong track he would stick to it, whatever +effort was made to put him on the right one. The administration kept +him in his position because he was good at a blow, and no one was more +intrepid than he in a hand-to-hand scuffle. + +The pickpockets and malefactors in the city and State of New York +feared him alone more than all his brigade. When he, at the head of his +men, made a raid in the most dangerous quarters of the city, in the +midst of an affray or a riot among working-men, there was a general +stampede. + +But when there was any delicate mission, one of those cases that need +working up, finesse, a keen scent and patience, Master Young was +stupid; the game would slip through his hands. + +He was then delighted to see the intelligent William Dow appear on the +scene, of whom he was a little jealous, but whose superiority he had +the good sense to recognize. + +“Captain,” said Kelly, giving Young the report of the Saint Vincent +coroner, “read that and set to work. It is about the drowned woman +found near Wharf 32, opposite Shakespeare’s tavern. Have Bright’s +establishment watched, and scour all the bad places on the wharf. It is +probable that she is some girl whose clothing and jewelry have tempted +the assassins.” + +“I am going to give orders to my men,” answered the detective, taking +the papers. + +“Do not forget to station intelligent agents at the morgue and in the +vicinity of the hospital.” + +“That was my intention, sir.” + +“It will also be well to put one of your agents on the wharf itself in +the costume of a guard. Malefactors can hardly resist the desire to +revisit the places of their crime, and, although the woman certainly +was not thrown in the water where she was found, it might be that those +concerned would be prowling around in that direction. But be sure and +keep me informed of the slightest incidents which take place in regard +to this affair. If the body is not recognized to-day or to-morrow, +there are certain measures I shall think about taking. Go ahead, +captain.” + +Young gave a military salute and left to execute these orders, while +the honorable chief, drawing other documents toward him, set himself +to work without thinking any more of the body, past which the crowd, +becoming more and more numerous, continued to move in file. + +Night came on and the drowned woman had not been recognized, and the +doors of the morgue were closed; but the event formed the staple of the +evening’s conversation all over the city, and Shakespeare’s tavern was +crowded. + +The next morning at daybreak more than ten thousand persons thronged +around Bellevue Hospital, and at eight o’clock the dreary visiting +began again. Suddenly, toward noon, one of the curious crowd cried: + +“Why, I recognize her; it is Miss Ada Ricard. Yes, it surely is she.” + +“Ada Ricard?” questioned the bystanders. + +Without giving him time to answer anyone, the agents on watch at the +morgue hastened to the man who was the first to speak this name, and +drew him to the clerk’s office. + +Although somewhat moved, the man was otherwise quite calm, and seemed +to have nothing to fear. He was about thirty years old, correctly +dressed, and seemed to be a servant in some well-to-do family. + +“Do you recognize the dead woman?” asked the clerk, to whom one of the +detectives had imparted what had happened. + +“Yes, sir,” answered the stranger, “I think so, at least. It seems to +me that it is Miss Ada Ricard, who lived at No. 17 East Twenty-third +Street.” + +“What is your name?” + +“Robert Fowl; I was Miss Ada’s coachman once.” + +“Then you think you could recall her features?” + +“Without doubt.” + +“And are you certain that you recognize her?” + +“To be absolutely certain I must see her nearer. You can understand how +surprised I was.” + +“We can understand that. I am going to order the curtains to be drawn +down.” + +Around the dead in the New York morgue there are heavy curtains of +green serge with which the windows are covered; in order that the body +may not have to be moved when it is recognized, the officials separate +it from the crowd by dropping the curtains. + +A few moments later, while the curious spectators, deprived of their +view, were entertaining all kinds of suppositions and murmuring a +little, the clerk, the director, and Fowl entered the exhibition-room +and approached the corpse. + +“Oh! yes; it is really she,” said the coachman, with considerable +emotion, leaning over the face of the drowned woman. “Poor creature.” + +“It was Miss Ada you said?” asked the clerk. + +“Miss Ada Ricard, yes. There is another way by which I can make sure of +it; I often remarked when Miss Ada laughed, and she was very lively, +that a tooth was wanting on the right side.” + +“And this woman lacks a tooth on the right,” affirmed the director +of the morgue, pointing to the dead woman’s mouth, whose upper lip, +slightly raised, permitted them to attest the fact asserted by Fowl, a +fact to which Doctor O’Neel had already certified in his report. + +“It is really she, it is really she,” murmured the dead woman’s former +servant. + +Convinced that the man could not be mistaken the clerk conducted him +into his office and, after taking his full name, and the address of the +victim, immediately telegraphed the information to Mr. Kelly. + +“Ada Ricard!” cried the chief of police, after having read the +despatch; “why, it is that girl about whom that fat Saunders wished to +interest me a week ago--and they really carried her off.” Calling his +secretary he ordered him to invite the honorable cracker-merchant to +immediately call at his office. + +We already know the effect of this invitation on the impressionable +Yankee, and in what state of fear he gasped out to his coachman as he +left Mr. Kelly’s-- + +“To Bellevue Hospital!” + +The chief of police had said to him without any preamble: + +“They described to me as Ada Ricard the woman who was drawn out of the +river yesterday morning. She is exhibited at the morgue; go and see if +it is she. You will not be mistaken, surely.” + +The unfortunate Saunders, without daring to utter a word, went as he +was bidden. + +When he reached the door of the hospital he was frightened at the sight +of all the people whom the policemen were driving back; for, since +Fowl’s declaration, the curtains of the exhibition-hall had not been +raised. + +He, however, alighted from his carriage, and when, in a stammering +voice, he had told one of the agents the motive that brought him there, +the man made a passage for him. + +Saunders crossed the public hall rapidly, but when he reached the door +of the clerk’s office he felt his legs give way beneath him. If an arm +had not supported him just then he would have fallen to the floor. +He turned to thank the person who had aided him so opportunely, and +just managed to stifle a cry of terror, for there beside him, placing +one hand on his shoulder, as if he were a criminal, he recognized the +terrible Captain Young. + +“Come in, Mr. Saunders; come in,” said the chief of detectives, in his +rough voice. He knew the cracker-merchant by sight, and knew why he +had come to the morgue. “That man, perhaps, was mistaken, but you----” + +While giving him a faint hope, these three words of Young reminded +the unhappy man of the last words addressed to him by Mr. Kelly, with +a kind of sinister irony. “You will not be mistaken, surely,” and, +with his head hung down, he hurried into the clerk’s office, then from +there, followed by the director, Captain Young, and two or three other +persons, into the exhibition-hall. + +When he reached the threshold of this horrible place, and perceived the +motionless body they said belonged to her whom he had so much loved, +and with whose death he had reproached himself, he put his hands to his +forehead and veiled his eyes, while his feet were riveted to the damp +flag-stones. + +“Come, be courageous; come on!” said the director of the morgue. + +Poor Saunders, summoning all the energy that was left in him, moved +forward; but when he found himself face to face with the corpse, he +gave an inarticulate cry and fell on his knees, murmuring: + +“Ada, my Ada, forgive me! Unhappy man that I am, it was I who killed +you,” and he sank fainting to the floor. + +“By George,” muttered Captain Young, without attempting to conceal his +satisfaction, “we have made a double stroke; we have found the name of +the victim and the murderer in the same hour.” + +Turning to the agents who accompanied him, he added: + +“Hello, you two watch over this fat fellow here, and when he recovers +take him to the central office. I will go and notify Mr. Kelly.” + +The policemen raised Saunders and bore him to the clerk’s office. + +“Pardon, my dear captain,” said some one just then to Young, whom the +latter had not perceived, “perhaps you are going ahead rather too fast.” + +“Why! is that you, Mr. Dow?” answered the chief of detectives. “Why do +you think I am going ahead too fast? Did you hear the voluntary and +spontaneous confession of this man?” + +It was, indeed, William Dow, whom we need not describe to our readers. +Having, like every one else, heard about the drowned woman, he was +at the morgue through mere curiosity. When he perceived the captain +and Saunders as they were entering the clerk’s office, he followed +them there, and then into the exhibition-room, where, cool, calm, and +observing, as he was always to be found, witnessed the scene we have +just described. + +“What you call the confession of Miss Ada’s former lover proves +nothing. I can hardly believe that that fat man killed her. He is an +honorable merchant, and very wealthy, and to arrest him on a suspicion +is, perhaps, imprudent.” + +“What is to be done, then?” asked the detective, visibly embarrassed. + +“Is it my advice you are asking?” + +“Certainly.” + +“Well, if I were in your place, I should take Mr. Saunders home, for he +seems to me to be threatened with an attack of apoplexy. If he is not +the murderer, he is an important witness. Do not kill him in advance +until he has told you all he knows or thinks about this strange event.” + +“You are right, Mr. Dow--always right.” + +The long-legged Young hurried into the office, where Mr. Saunders was +beginning to recover consciousness. + +“Ada, poor Ada,” he stammered, looking around him wildly. + +Then he added, in a low voice: + +“Oh, that colonel, I will kill him! He is the cause of everything. +It is not I, gentlemen, it is not I; I loved her too much. Oh, the +wretched masks--the Indians!” + +“You see he is talking at random,” whispered William Dow to the chief +of the detectives, and approaching the merchant, he said to him: “Come, +sir, have courage. It is a misfortune, but what can you do about it? +A man ought to have more pluck. We must now find the assassin. Return +home; the magistrate in charge of the affair will question you when it +is time. Do you wish me to accompany you?” + +“Yes, sir, yes,” gasped Saunders, making an effort to rise. + +William Dow took hold of his arm to support him, and, both leaving +the clerk’s office, they passed through the crowd which had already +learned the name of the drowned woman, and respectfully moved aside +for the man they took for the father or one of the near relatives of +the victim. The detective helped the cracker-merchant to enter his +carriage, seated himself near him, and they drove off, while Captain +Young jumped into a cab to give an account to Mr. Kelly of what he had +just witnessed. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +SAUNDERS ALMOST LOSES HIS MIND, WHILE CAPTAIN YOUNG WHOLLY LOSES HIS +TIME. + + +As soon as Captain Young had reported what had passed at the morgue, +Mr. Kelly’s first act was to notify the sheriff of the district to meet +him at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street, and he set out immediately +for this place in company with the detective. The chief of the police +wished to see things for himself, and to profit by the occasion that +was offered him to visit the house of this Ada Ricard, of whom he had +heard so much. + +These two gentlemen found on the threshold of the house Sheriff +Mortimer waiting for them. In a few words they acquainted him with the +situation, then rang the bell. Mary, who answered it at once, could not +help a movement of terror at the sight of these three stern-looking +men, who were unknown to her. The sheriff gave his name, and the +visitors entered a small reception-room on the ground-floor. + +“Who are you?” then asked stout Mr. Kelly, of the young girl, as he +sank into a chair. + +“The maid of Miss Ada Ricard,” answered Mary, with a certain calmness. + +“Well, Miss Ada Ricard, your mistress, is at the morgue; she has been +found drowned in the river,” said her questioner, abruptly. + +“Miss Ada drowned!” cried the servant; “it is impossible.” + +“Why impossible?” resumed Kelly. “Did you know where she was?” + +“No, not positively; but I believed her on a voyage, for the day after +my mistress was carried away she wrote me that she would be absent a +month at least--perhaps more.” + +“She has returned sooner, but dead. You say that she wrote you. Where +is the letter?” + +“I gave it to Mr. Saunders, who came just as I had received it.” + +“Did your mistress receive any one else?” + +“Never.” + +“Did she go out often?” + +“Very seldom, and I am certain she had no relatives in the city. She +had confidence in me and told me everything.” + +“Had you had any news of her after that letter of which you speak?” + +“No, sir; and I was perfectly free from anxiety. Miss Ada ordered me to +dismiss the servants and take care of the house until her return. I +cannot believe that she is dead.” + +“You must go to the morgue to identify her.” + +“I am ready to obey your orders, sir.” + +“In the first place show us the house; are you alone here?” + +“Quite alone.” + +Saying this, Mary showed the magistrates into the dining-room; then, +while the terrible Young visited the kitchens down-stairs, she ascended +the first flight with Kelly and the sheriff. + +“Ah! Ah! It is very fine here; there are signs of Saunders’ gifts, he +is a lavish fellow,” the sceptical Kelly could not help saying as he +crossed the parlors where we conducted our readers in the first chapter +of this story. + +Let us continue. They passed into the sleeping-room. It was a +delightful room, hung in blue satin, embroidered with flowers and +birds. The bed was a marvel of costliness and taste; the floor was +completely covered by a soft Turkish rug. + +“Is that all?” said the chief of police. + +“Perhaps the gentlemen would like to see the dressing and +bathing-room,” suggested the young girl. + +“Dear me,” said Kelly, looking at Mortimer with a peculiar smile. + +Mary raised the heavy portiere and introduced the two magistrates into +an adjoining room, the sight of which drew an “o-o-oh!” of admiration +even from the grave sheriff himself. + +It would be impossible, indeed, to dream of anything more dainty than +this room, for Ada Ricard had made it a real boudoir. The smallest +articles of the toilet were objects of art, as well as Venetian mirrors +and the small Bohemian glass lamps which hung from a ceiling draped +with rare Japanese material. As for the bath-room, which communicated +with the dressing-room, it was of white marble and silver. This room +alone must have cost a large sum. It was there that Captain Young +rejoined the two officers. + +After searching the basement, the chief of detectives had visited the +upper story, where were the linen closets and servants’ rooms, and +he stated that he found no one there or in the kitchens, and that +everything was in order. + +The house, indeed, had no appearance of being abandoned. It looked +like one whose mistress was soon to return. When one thought that its +mistress was lying on the slabs in the morgue, it sent a chill to the +heart. + +Kelly’s besetting sin was not sensibility. The delight of this wealth +awoke in his mind but one thought, “Who will be the heir of all this?” +and it naturally led him to say to Mary: “Where are the jewels of your +mistress?” + +“Those which madam did not wear on the day of her departure,” she +answered, “are in a little scarlet chest in the wardrobe of her +sleeping-room. Miss Ada, no doubt, has the key about her, for I have +not found it in looking over things, and her bank notes and money must +be in that same chest. There were only twenty dollars in gold on her +dressing table, of which I made use to settle the servants’ accounts. +The remainder of the sum is up in my room.” + +“Are you acquainted with Miss Ada’s family?” + +“No, sir. I know that my mistress had been married, but I do not know +the name of her husband. He lived, I think, in Buffalo. She never spoke +of any relatives.” + +“They must be found, however, for now everything here belongs to them.” + +“Oh, they will present themselves fast enough if it is found that madam +is really dead.” + +“You soon will cease to doubt.” + +“Why?” + +“Why? Because you are going to the morgue to identify the body. Captain +Young will accompany you, and escort you afterwards to the judge to +make your statement. After which you will return to pack up your +clothing and receive my orders.” + +“Very well, sir.” + +Greatly impressed, either by the mere fact of the terrible news which +she had just heard, or by the manner in which the big, surly man had +talked to her, Mary went up to her room accompanied by the terrible +Young, who did not say a word, but disturbed her by looking at her in +a manner he fancied searching, and grumbling disconnected sentences. +On reaching her room, the young lady hastily put on her hat and threw +a cloak over her shoulders, and then rejoined the magistrates in the +large parlor on the first floor. Mr. Mortimer was making an entry in +his note-book. + +“In the first place,” said Mr. Kelly to the maid, “lock up the +furniture, and give the keys to the sheriff.” + +Still accompanied by the giant detective, Mary went over the silent +house again, from basement to attic, and a moment later returned and +handed a bunch of keys to Mortimer. + +“Now,” said the chief, “we can leave.” + +They all four descended the steps, and when they had reached the +street, the sheriff locked the doors of the house; then after calling +a policeman from the sidewalk opposite, bade him watch the house, and +went away with Kelly. As for Captain Young, after stopping a carriage +passing, he entered it with the maid, shouting to the driver in a +stentorian voice: “To the central morgue, Bellevue Hospital.” + +A quarter of an hour later they arrived. Night was coming on; and the +exhibition-hall was somewhat dark when Mary entered it with Young and +the clerk. At the sight of the corpse the girl, already excited, began +to tremble, and the detective had to support her. + +“Come,” he said rudely, “come and look at it.” + +“But I can’t see a thing, sir,” she murmured. + +The director of the morgue had foreseen this, and beckoned to one of +the workmen who had a lantern, and turned its light upon the face of +the dead woman. It stood out in the glare of light, while the body +remained somewhat in shadow, and was horrible to see; not that it was +disfigured, but because of the optical conditions in which it appeared. + +Mary, whom the captain, still holding by the arm, had led up to touch +the corpse, uttered a cry of terror. + +“Well,” said the pitiless guide, “let’s get through with it. It is +really your mistress, isn’t it?” + +The young girl, fortifying herself with all the courage she possessed, +resolved to look straight at the corpse, and immediately answered: + +“No, no; that woman is not Miss Ada.” + +“What!” cried the clerk and Young at the same moment, in a tone of +amazement impossible to convey. “Not Miss Ada? Why, her former coachman +recognized her at once.” + +“But I don’t recognize her,” said Mary with certain positiveness. “This +woman resembles her very much, but I don’t think it is she. At least +I could not declare it is. Yet, it is strange; but, oh! dear, I am +afraid, gentlemen; do let me go away.” + +“We must have a positive answer,” said the captain. “Devil take you, do +try. Take one good look at her.” + +“I cannot, my mind, my eyes are confused, my head swims, take me away,” +stammered the young girl turning aside her head. + +On saying these words she had, indeed, become pale, and had it not been +for the aid of the detective would have fallen to the ground. + +Finding that they could accomplish nothing further for the moment, at +least, they led her to the clerk’s room. There she became calmer, and +in a few moments was able to enter the carriage with Captain Young, who +took her to the sheriff’s. + +The maid, who had recovered her composure, declared to this magistrate +that she had not positively recognized her mistress in the drowned +woman, but that her emotion, it was true, had not enabled her to look +with sufficient attention. Mr. Mortimer made her sign an official +report to this effect, and they then returned to poor Ada’s house, from +which the young girl took away her belongings. + +By agreement with the coroner, while waiting until the worthy sheriff +had appointed a watch over the house, in which it had been decided that +Mary should be included, that she might recognize persons who might +appear, she was required to live in a house in the neighborhood and +hold herself at the orders of the justices. + +These formalities arranged, and Mary being established at Washington +Hotel, Mr. Mortimer hastened to the chief of police to tell him how +things had gone on at the morgue. + +“Oh!” said Kelly, “the affair is becoming complicated. That foolish +girl was frightened, no doubt, but we shall soon know what to do. I +have given orders to have all Ada Ricard’s former servants appear at +the morgue the first thing to-morrow morning.” + +This measure, which would usually necessitate long and difficult +search, was executed in New York with great ease and despatch, by +reason of the intelligent method which the American police employ to +keep the whole body of household servants within call. + +Every servant, to whatever class he belongs, receives a dollar when he +goes to the coroner in his district and states that he is to enter into +service at such or such a house, and they also give him one dollar when +he changes his place and gives the address of the new house he is to +enter. + +In circumstances like those which arose from the violent death of Ada +Ricard, the police and magistrate thus know where to find at once +people whose information might be of importance. + +Mr. Kelly, therefore, was almost certain that the majority of the +former servants of the dead woman would come to Bellevue Hospital +the next day; and as Doctor O’Neel had informed him that, under the +influence of the air and the place in which it was exposed, the body +would rapidly decompose, he had engaged Albert Moor, the skilful +modeler of the Anatomical Museum of the School of Medicine, to come to +the hospital. + +As for the unhappy Saunders, whom we left at the close of the preceding +chapter, after leaving the house with William Dow, he returned home in +a state of complete prostration. + +His physician, whom they called at once, feared congestion of the +brain, and he forbade visitors. In spite of this order, toward eight +o’clock a man disregarded it, and entered the sleeping room where the +unfortunate cracker-merchant, lying exhausted in an arm-chair, with his +lower lip hanging down, and his eyes suffused, murmured as he gazed at +a photograph: + +“Poor Ada! poor Ada! Why did I not jump into the water to save you?” +The man who entered was Robertson, Jr. + +Saunders barely recognized him, but his visitor none the less said to +him, trying to make himself understood: + +“It is a great misfortune, dear sir, and you must form some plan. But, +you know, communications which we make to our clients are absolutely +confidential, and the steps we take in their interest must remain +secret. I have not the honor of being acquainted with you. I have never +had the pleasure of seeing you, or of taking a walk with you. What the +police may seek, find or not find, is their affair, not ours.” + +“Ah, yes; down there at Staten Island, at night,” gasped Saunders. + +“I do not know what you mean,” quietly remarked the young head of the +house of Robertson Brothers & Co. + +Saunders looked at him with the eye of an idiot, made a visible effort +to answer him, but his face sank heavily in his hands, and he repeated: +“Poor Ada, poor Ada!” + +Mr. Robertson shrugged his shoulders and left. His lips formed into +a smile of satisfaction, for, in his opinion, the former protector +of the drowned woman had not had a gleam of reason in his brain for +twenty-four hours. + +Meanwhile the intrepid Young scattered his agents all along the +wharves, and ransacked the innumerable dens from Shakespeare’s tavern +to Harlem, but in vain, finding no sign of any useful information. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +TAKING A CAST OF THE DEAD. + + +The next day, before noon, the majority of the former servants of Miss +Ada had presented themselves at the morgue, and all, unhesitatingly, +with the exception of two or three, had recognized the unfortunate +woman. The girl July, whose place Mary had taken at No. 17 East +Twenty-third Street, furnished some information, which, of itself +alone, would have sufficed to dispel all doubts, if any had remained +after these successive affirmations. + +July remembered having seen, as she dressed her mistress’ hair, that +her left ear was torn. Now, this wound had not escaped the eye of Dr. +O’Neel, and he specified it in his report of the autopsy. + +The drowned woman was really Miss Ada Ricard. This was the first +indisputable point made at the inquest, of which Coroner Davis took +charge. + +Therefore, it was not necessary to study any further into the identity +of the victim, but to seek her murderer. + +First of all, it was necessary to proceed to burial, but not without +taking an absolutely faithful image of the corpse, in order to reserve +the possibility of any other recognition, or of even confronting it +with the murderer, should he be discovered. It was for this end that +the chief of police had made an appointment with Albert Moor, the +sculptor. + +The woman had been photographed, and the likenesses had been reproduced +and distributed in great number; but Mr. Kelly required even more. + +Albert Moor had been at the morgue a long while when Mr. Kelly arrived, +who explained to him that he wished a cast of the woman’s head. The +artist, who had examined the corpse, found that the work could not be +deferred until the next day, and promised to do it at once. + +Being sure that his instructions would be faithfully followed, the +chief of police ordered the manager of the morgue to transport the body +into the autopsy-room, and to keep it at the disposal of the sculptor; +then he returned to the central office to arrange with the sheriff and +coroner about the rewards for those who had given important information +in the cause of justice. + +Mr. Kelly, as a chief of police and a lawyer, did not hesitate to make +known to the public, by posters and through the press, that a reward of +one hundred dollars would be given to any one who would furnish exact +information in regard to the particulars of the crime, and that whoever +would arrest or deliver up the assassin would receive one thousand +dollars. + +The intelligent officer was ready to double or triple the sum if, +after waiting a while, he obtained no result. Having done this, and +feeling convinced that, like Titus, he had employed his day well, the +honorable chief of the metropolitan police seated himself at his +dinner-table in a cheerful mood, and afterwards went to his club. + +At the same hour, Albert Moor and his guide reached the morgue, +provided with all the apparatus necessary for their work. The manager +of the establishment escorted them to the autopsy-room, where, after +one of the workmen had lighted the gas, for it had become dark, he left +them alone. + +According to orders, the drowned woman had been removed from her stone +bed to one of the large metal tables used for authorized medical +operations. Her face and features were in a good state of preservation, +but, from her chest down, there was a horrible gash, for the surgeon +who had examined the body to discover the causes of death, had but +partially drawn the flesh together, and here and there were dark +streaks upon it. + +The flesh on the upper portion of the form was still firm; the +shoulders were like marble, and the abundant hair so completely hid the +opening in the skull that the luxuriant beauty, being thus preserved, +strikingly recalled Miss Ada as she was in life. The limbs still +retained their perfect shape. + +After examining his subject for a moment with the real curiosity of the +artist, Albert Moor prepared for his work. He first slipped a cushion +under the head, that it might be slightly raised, pushed back the hair +and secured it in a piece of cloth, then washed the face and neck as +carefully as this operation is performed by the people of the extreme +East. Having done this, by the aid of a large brush he moistened those +parts of the body with an oily liquid, intended to prevent the adhesion +of the plaster, and from the top of the head to the chin, and in +various other directions, extended cords, which enabled him to divide +the cast, before it had stiffened, into as many parts as he thought +necessary, for the perfect execution of his work. + +While he was making these preparations his assistant was tempering, in +a large wooden bowl, a plaster fine as starch. + +The sculptor first covered the face and all the parts of which he +wished to take a cast, then he thickened the layer with successive +layers, under which the outlines of the form slowly disappeared. + +He had reached this point in his work when he heard some one softly +open the door. Thinking it was the director of the morgue, whom +curiosity had drawn thither, and being absorbed in his work, he did not +turn round; but he could not check a movement of surprise when he saw +at the head of the dead woman a face unknown to him. + +How did this stranger introduce himself into this gloomy place, to +which admission was forbidden? + +He immediately had the key to this riddle, for the newcomer, bowing, +gave his name. + +It was William Dow. + +Now, although the sculptor did not know the celebrated detective by +sight, he knew him perfectly by name, for in a previous criminal +affair, for several months no one was so much talked of as this retired +doctor. + +Thanks to him, the police of New York had finally put their hands on a +band of counterfeiters who, for more than two years, had boldly drawn +from the coffers of the government. + +Although he did not understand the motive of this nightly visit, the +operator returned William Dow’s greeting with an expression in his face +which told how flattered he was to find himself with a man for whom he +professed real admiration. Both, in their way, were artists. + +“You know, sir,” said the detective, “how curious I am about all that +in any way concerns the discovery of a crime; you therefore will not be +astonished at my presuming to come here. You are doing a great service +to the cause of justice, and I wish to see for myself how you perform +this delicate operation.” + +The sculptor willingly explained to his visitor what he had already +done, and after assuring himself that the plastic was in the necessary +state of cohesion, he took the end of the cord extending the length of +the face, and, raising it skilfully, cut the mask in two. He did the +same with the other cords arranged in various directions, saying: + +“Now, I must wait until the plaster takes the form sufficiently, then +I remove each of these parts which, united, will give me a cast into +which it only remains for me to pour the material of which I am to make +the bust. If I wish to have anything more finished, absolutely perfect, +I go over the bust again with the chisel to correct imperfections, and +use it for a second cast, from which is obtained a work of art which +needs only finishing touches.” + +“That is very ingenious, sir,” said William Dow, “but when I examine +this body, I truly regret that you have taken a cast only of the upper +part. Do you not think that it is one of the most beautiful models for +sculpture that could be found?” + +“It is, indeed, admirable in its shape and proportions.” + +“Why, then, did you not take an entire cast?” + +“Mr. Kelly asked me only for the head. To do more would be considerable +labor, and very difficult besides, for Doctor O’Neel, who made the +autopsy of the unfortunate woman, left the body open. After filling in +the vacuum caused by the removing of the viscera, and which occasions +the alteration in the flesh, it would be necessary to draw together +the separated parts in order to have a model without solutions of +continuity. Don’t you see?” Saying which, Albert Moor removed the cloth +from the body that William Dow might judge of the state of things for +himself. + +“It is true,” answered the detective, examining with the coolness of +a practitioner the open body; “but it does not seem to me impossible +to remedy this obstacle. I have some surgical knowledge, and I think +I could myself put this body in a suitable condition. Give me five +minutes to go to the doctor on duty at Bellevue Hospital to obtain the +necessary instruments, and, if you then think the thing possible, I +shall beg you to do it, and charge your own price for the entire cast +of this woman. I think, in the interest of art, it would be a useful +work.” + +“I think so, too, sir,” said the sculptor, delighted to have an +opportunity to earn a large sum. “My plaster is sufficiently dry; +during your absence I shall take it off. We can then do the whole body.” + +William Dow left. He was, no doubt, well known in the establishment, +for in a few moments he returned to the autopsy-room in company with a +hospital nurse, who brought all the articles needed for the peculiar +operation about to be performed. + +Albert Moor had disengaged the head from its covering, and the face now +appeared of a yellow ivory hue. The moulding had succeeded perfectly. + +The detective began his work at once. After filling in the cavities of +the stomach and bowels with oakum saturated with an aromatic solution +and corrosive sublimate, in order to retard decomposition, he drew +the sides of the opening together, and united them so skilfully that +the body soon took its natural form. He did the same with the other +solutions of continuity which Doctor O’Neel had made in the throat and +the top of the cranium, to find proofs that the poor woman had not been +asphyxiated by submersion, and that she had not succumbed to an attack +of apoplexy. Then he arranged the rich mass of hair with such art that +the head did not show the least sign of the autopsy. + +It was really a moving, peculiar spectacle of which this silent little +room was the scene in the still hours of the night. + +“Is that all right?” asked William Dow, when he had finished his +horrible task. + +“Perfectly, sir,” answered Albert Moor, and then setting to work +himself, the sculptor prepared the body as he had done the head. + +The detective watched him attentively. In less than an hour, all was +done. The corpse was lost to sight beneath a thick coating of plaster, +which after removing cords was divided into twenty fragments. It looked +like a block of snow. + +“In the morning,” said the artist, “I will take off my mould; we can +then decide on what is to be done with it, as you think best.” + +“We will come to an understanding about that. Meanwhile I must thank +and compliment you on the skill with which you have performed this +difficult work.” + +While they were exchanging these words they had made their preparations +for departure; but Albert Moor did not wish to leave until he had told +the watchman at the morgue not to touch or let anyone touch the cast +before his return. + +As for William Dow, before leaving the autopsy-room, his intelligent +eyes gazed long and thoughtfully at the inert mass, and he murmured: + +“Who knows if this will not be more than a work of art, and if this +woman of stone will not accuse herself some day.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +WHAT THE HONORABLE CORONER DAVIS THOUGHT, AND WHAT ROBERTSON, JR., WAS +CONVINCED OF. + + +Mr. Davis, the coroner charged with this mysterious affair, was an +intelligent, laborious man; but, like all his colleagues in the +American magistracy, he had so often encountered the difficulties with +which judicial inquests are armed in the Northern States, that he +hardly hoped to obtain a prompt result. + +A fortnight later the inquest had made great progress, owing to the +reward of one hundred dollars promised to each person who should +furnish useful information in the cause of justice. + +Toby naturally presented himself to declare that the barrel of tar +fastened to the leg of the drowned woman was the one stolen from him on +the night of the ball, at two or three o’clock in the morning. He was +certain of it, for it was at that very moment that he left his post as +watch on Wharf 43 to go and warm himself in Anchor tavern. This inn was +on the wharf, seven or eight hundred yards above Shakespeare’s tavern, +going up toward Yorkville. + +After Toby came Thompson, the keeper of the livery stable, and his +driver, Tom Katters; but the latter could only tell the magistrate of +his traveling in company with three Indians and a woman as far as the +first houses in Yorkville. + +Beyond this stopping-place the legal officers lost all traces of the +unhappy Miss Ada and her kidnappers. + +Captain Young and his skilful agents searched in vain all the taverns, +lodging-houses, dens, and suspicious places from the borders of the +river to Yorkville, and discovered nothing which could throw light upon +the matter. + +This campaign served only to accomplish the arrest of a hundred +offenders against the law--people important to capture, but absolutely +innocent of the crime which excited public opinion in the highest +degree. + +Mary, on being questioned several times, invariably told the same story +of the kidnapping, which she had witnessed, as had all Miss Ada’s +guests. The servants affirmed--and there was no reason to suppose that +she lied--that she, like every one else, had taken the scene for a +carnival joke. + +Mary took care not to speak Colonel Forster’s name, whom she evidently +suspected as she had told Mr. Saunders, for she feared to compromise +herself, and be accused of being an accomplice. Besides it might be +that her silence was caused by her thinking it impossible that the +brilliant officer could have had any part in the crime of which her +mistress had been a victim, admitting that the drowned woman really +was, whatever she had said, the unhappy Miss Ada. Moreover, when the +coroner had proposed to her to return to the morgue to again examine +the body, the young girl began to tremble and weep, and said that +probably she was mistaken, but that not for any amount of money could +she have the courage to confront such a spectacle a second time. + +Mr. Davis, therefore, had to resign himself to go no farther with the +maid; but, without her suspecting it, he placed her under a constant +surveillance. + +However, the examination of this girl had not been useless, for to her +Mr. Davis owed the enumeration and detailed description of the jewels +which Miss Ada had on the day when she was carried off. + +Mary, in giving this information of utmost importance, showed so good +a memory and so much intelligence, that the coroner could have each +of these jewels estimated, drawn, and photographed--they easily found +those who had sold them--so that the principal jewelers in America and +Europe could be notified. + +The assassin, it is true, could change the setting of the necklaces, +bracelets, and rings; but the coroner counted much on the ear-rings +of the victim, for the discovery of the murderer. He knew that these +diamonds were solitaires, valued at ten thousand dollars. Now, it is +difficult to get rid of stones of this cut without awaking suspicion, +even in America. + +What baffled the honorable magistrate was that Miss Ada had been taken +beyond the wharf from which the barrel of tar had been stolen. + +Now, as the report of Doctor O’Neel demonstrated that the victim had +ceased to live before being thrown into the water, he concluded that +the murderer had retraced his steps with the corpse, and, that, not +being provided with a rock to sink the body he took the first object he +could lay hands on. + +This first deduction naturally led the coroner to a second--that the +assassin had been able to descend only by water from the place where +Tom Katters had parted from him--Miss Ada being still living, since the +coachman had heard the man who brought her talking to her--to Wharf 43, +from which the barrel had been taken. + +Mr. Davis thus succeeded in establishing this first point: On leaving +the carriage, the unknown had embarked with the young woman, had +choked, poisoned, or asphyxiated her by means of a poison or narcotic +impossible to state what, and had afterward thrown her into the river. + +The lieutenant of the Liberia had come to make the intelligent +magistrate the declaration which he had previously made to the +Robertson agency, that on Tuesday or Wednesday night, the night of the +kidnapping, he came near running down a boat in which were an Indian +and a woman--a boat going towards Williamsburg--and that this woman had +uttered a cry of fear; but this only made it supposable that the crime +had been committed on the other side of the river, for all these shores +receiving tides, the body might have been as easily carried out by the +waves as to have descended from the top of the river with the current. + +On the opposite shore, at Greenpoint, Williamsburg, and Brooklyn, the +search had not produced any better results than at Yorkville. + +None of the men of the Firefly, not even those of the boat we saw +skirting Staten Island, came to the aid of the police. In the first +place, the crew of the yacht were absolutely ignorant of the aim of the +excursion which we have described, and, moreover, although the sailors +of the boat knew that they had run into a yawl, they knew no more. + +In their natural haste to save themselves they were no more anxious +about those who had made them run so great a danger than about the +stout man, who, no doubt, as an apology for the cold bath he had made +them take, had given them each one hundred dollars. + +As for Saunders, it was impossible to obtain anything, whatever, +from him. Two or three times Mr. Davis had gone to his house, and +had questioned him as shrewdly as possible; but the unhappy man, at +the mere name of Miss Ada, rolled his haggard eyes wildly, muttered +incoherently, accused himself of her death, asked her forgiveness, +burst into sobs, then offered ten thousand dollars to anyone who would +discover her murderer. + +He talked at random, with such good results, that the coroner, agreeing +with Mr. Kelly and Mr. Mortimer, gave up tormenting him, and this +in spite of Captain Young, who swore at them, and remembering the +recognition he had witnessed at the morgue, bet one thousand dollars +against two hundred dollars that the wealthy merchant was the murderer. + +There was only one call which Mr. Saunders received without +terror--that of William Dow. He remembered that the latter had offered +him his arm to lead him from Bellevue Hospital, and in his presence he +wandered a little less. + +So the gentlemanly detective went to see him from time to time, under +the pretext of inquiring about his health. + +Mr. Robertson, Jr., who followed the progress of this search with +interest, as will be understood, reasoned quite differently from Mr. +Davis, and it must be acknowledged that his deductions, considering the +facts within his personal knowledge, were no less honorable than those +of the magistrate. + +According to the intelligent agent, Miss Ada was accidentally drowned +on the shore of Staten Island. Her body, borne off by the current, did +not come to the surface until out to sea, where some fisherman may have +drawn it up in his nets, and, tempted by the precious jewels that the +young woman wore, the man had completely robbed her, then thrown her +into the water, after fastening to her leg a tar barrel, whose presence +in his fishing-boat was very natural. This tar barrel might be that +which had been stolen from Toby, or the fisherman might have stolen it +himself a few days before, or some one might have sold it to him; but +it might also simply be a barrel bearing the same mark as those stored +on Wharf 43, and not the particular one that had disappeared from that +wharf. + +It will be seen that Davis and Robertson, while starting from a +different point, reached the same result--the certifying the identity +of the body of the drowned. + +The coroner also had taken every measure to learn the past of Ada +Ricard, and by some brief information collected in New York, and made +more complete by former servants of the young woman and by the friends +of her first lover, Thomas Cornhill, he had been able to go as far back +as her marriage with James Gobson, which took place at Buffalo, but, as +we know, only to be broken at the end of a year by the divorce courts. + +The documents relative to this case described the brutality of +Gobson toward his wife; and, when he learned that this man--who had +disappeared for more than six months--had been seen at Jefferson, +forty-eight hours distant from New York, a few days before the crime, +Mr. Davis no longer doubted that he was the guilty man. + +It was equally the opinion of William Dow, contrary to all the +reasonings of the terrible Captain Young. + +Now it only remained to arrest James Gobson; but this was not easy, +for it was very evident that the murderer, having committed the crime +and taken possession of the jewels, had made all despatch to put all +possible distance between him and the law. + +Now, unfortunately, they had only one of those imperfect clews which +serve no end, and no photograph, whatever. + +William Dow, who had gone to Buffalo, had brought back nothing +interesting in regard to the antecedents of the unfortunate Ada, as no +one had been able to give any information. + +Gobson, who, when he lived at Buffalo, was often absent on business, +had one day returned from the West with her whom he had made his wife, +and as this union with a girl whose past and family he did not know, +had separated the merchant from his relatives as well as the majority +of his friends, it became almost impossible to find out about Miss Ada +before the time of her marriage. + +Was the name of Ricard, which she had taken or resumed on arriving in +New York, her own? Mr. Davis would not have ventured to affirm it, and +Mr. Dow doubted it. + +Matters, as we see, were progressing slowly, and the mystery seemed to +become more impenetrable every day. + +Albert Moor was the only one who had brought his work to a successful +end. In a fortnight after his night at the morgue with William Dow he +had delivered to Mr. Kelly a head in wax, which in the opinion of all +who had known Ada Ricard was her striking image. + +This head had been placed, according to regulations, in a glass case +outside the exhibition-room, in the large public hall, and every day +attracted considerable of a crowd. + +It was to remain there until the matter was settled, in some way or +another, to be afterwards placed in the museum of curiosities at +Bellevue Hospital, where they keep the heads of murderers and those of +their victims. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A MOHICK TELLS OF A VISIT BIG KELLY RECEIVES WHICH HE LITTLE EXPECTED, +AND HOW WILLIAM DOW TRANSFORMS A VISITOR INTO A PRISONER. + + +A month had already passed without the inquest having advanced a step, +and the irascible Kelly, much disturbed by public opinion which was +against his course, was tempted to doubt even the skill of William Dow, +when, one morning as he was talking with the latter, an office boy +brought a card on which was a name which gave him a start. + +The name was James Gobson, from Buffalo. + +“We have been mistaken,” he cried, passing the card to the detective. + +The latter read it, and immediately answered with his shrewd smile: + +“Oh! that proves nothing; or, at least not much of anything.” + +“Let him come in,” said the officer, and in a few seconds the visitor +was admitted. + +He was a tall man, about forty years old, tolerably good looking, +wearing his beard in the American style, without a mustache, and +seeming by no means embarrassed. + +“Is this card yours?” asked Mr. Kelly, brusquely; for he did not +possess those qualities necessary to his situation--coolness and +self-control. + +“It is mine,” answered the stranger with much assurance. “I read three +days ago at St. Louis, where I happened to be on business, that a woman +named Ada Ricard had been found drowned. Now the woman from whom I have +been divorced bore that name, and I at once took the train to come on +here, and here I am, ready to give you my aid, if I can be useful to +you in discovering the assassin.” + +“What makes you suppose the woman was assassinated?” + +“All the accounts in the newspapers so stated. They relate that when +she was taken from the river she was completely nude, and that a barrel +of tar was fastened to one leg. Her death, therefore, cannot be a +suicide.” + +“Have you been to see her head at the morgue?” + +“No, sir; I thought that my first duty was to come to you.” + +“But you, at least, have a photograph of the dead. They are circulated +everywhere.” + +“I heard of this event on the very morning of my arrival at St. Louis, +and none of these likenesses came under my eye.” + +“Where had you come from?” + +“From a long trip to the Rocky Mountains, where I had gone to visit the +mines.” + +“I think, then, that the first thing to be done is for you to go to the +morgue.” + +“I will go there immediately.” + +“With me, if you will?” + +“I have told you, sir, that I am at your orders.” + +Mr. Kelly had rung the bell and said a few words in a low voice to the +secretary, who had quickly come at the call. + +Almost immediately two agents presented themselves in the office of +their chief. + +James Gobson did not betray any astonishment at the arrival of this +reinforcement. His coolness was that of a man perfectly sure of himself. + +“Let us start, sir,” said the chief of police, rising and slipping in +his pocket the revolver, which was always within reach on his desk. + +William Dow, who had not taken his eyes off of the former husband of +Ada Ricard, also arose. + +“All ready, sir,” answered the stranger, putting on his hat. + +All three went down stairs, followed by the agents, and found in the +yard of the central office two carriages harnessed, and the drivers on +the boxes. + +Kelly, William Dow and James Gobson entered one, and the policemen the +other. + +The chief of police advised the latter not to lose sight of Gobson for +a single instant, and he sent one of his secretaries to Mr. Davis to +beg him to immediately repair to the morgue. + +In less than a quarter of an hour the party alighted at Bellevue +Hospital. + +Mr. Kelly pointing out the way to his companions proceeded to the +clerk’s office without passing the public gallery, where curious +lookers-on were numerous, and he ordered the officer to dismiss the +crowd and close the doors. A few moments later, there was no one left +in the place where the head of the drowned was exhibited. + +“Come,” said the officer to Mr. Gobson, when the clerk informed him +that the gallery was empty. + +Without the least hesitation James Gobson kept pace with his escort, +and, followed by William Dow and the two agents, arrived at the glass +window. + +At the sight of this wax face of the most admirable execution and +truly life-like beauty, the American wore an expression which William +Dow, who was watching him attentively, was not ready to interpret, and +then Mr. Gobson turned at once to Mr. Kelly and said with the greatest +calmness: + +“It is really extraordinary, sir; I did not think such a resemblance +was possible.” + +“Then, you recognize Miss Ada?” asked the chief of police, indignant, +in spite of his scepticism, at seeing the almost smiling face this man +wore in presence of this cast of the head of her who had been his wife. + +“No, not at all, not at all,” answered James Gobson, quickly; “you +hardly understand me. Here are the features, and even the expression of +her who bore my name; but the unhappy woman of whom this cast has been +made was not Miss Ada.” + +The tone in which he said this would have made one think that he really +regretted that it was not Mrs. Gobson. + +“What! not Miss Ada? Take a good look,” resumed Mr. Kelly. “Through +her parted lips you can see that a tooth is missing, and that there +is a cut on the left ear. Now, the two servants who were successively +employed by your wife--” + +“Pardon, my former wife.” + +“Very well, your former wife; the two servants who were successively +employed by her, perfectly recalled these two details so decisive in +the certifying of the identity.” + +“Did they both recognize Miss Ada?” + +“Certainly they did.” + +Mr. Kelly did not state the exact truth, since Mary, it will be +remembered, had at first denied that her mistress was the drowned +woman, and that she afterwards, hesitatingly, admitted her identity +that she might not be forced to re-visit the morgue. But the magistrate +thought a little fib like that of no consequence. + +“Well,” said James Gobson, at the “certainly” of the impetuous officer, +“I do not recognize her.” + +Annoyed, and hardly knowing what to do, the chief of police looked at +William Dow. Ada Ricard’s former husband caught the questioning look, +and immediately resumed: + +“Please understand, sir, that it is for my interest to hold your +opinion.” + +“How so?” said Kelly, surprised anew. + +“Simply because between this former wife of mine and myself there was +an insurance contract which the divorce court could not break, and this +contract was made in favor of the survivor. If you absolutely insist +that this unhappy victim whose head I see here was Mrs. Gobson I should +be very foolish to deny it any longer, for with the certificate of +death which you have made out, and of which you will not refuse me a +copy, I shall have only to present myself at the Gresham Company to +immediately receive twenty thousand dollars.” + +While the widower, no matter how he felt, was thus expressing himself +with the most perfect coolness and with a smile on his lips, Mr. Davis +had entered the gallery and had joined the spectators of this strange +scene. + +“I think,” said William Dow, speaking to both the chief of police and +the coroner, “that the most simple thing to be done is to draw up an +official report of the declaration which you have just heard, and +deliver to him the certificate which he asks for. The death certificate +must be at the morgue.” + +The detective, as he made this proposition, gave Mr. Kelly and Davis a +look which they understood, for they immediately followed him into the +directors’ office, but having first signed to the two policemen to look +after James Gobson. + +The latter, at the firm, grave voice of this man, whom he had not +observed until then, could not conceal a slight shudder. + +It seemed as if he had a presentiment of an adversary, for he turned +quickly toward the man who had made a proposition so in conformance +with his expressed wish, but he had already disappeared. However, after +the departure of the magistrates and their companion, he began to walk +up and down, with the evident intention of warming himself, the place +was so damp and chilly. + +Outside was heard the crowd, which, having become quite large, was +breaking into noisy complaint at having so long been deprived of the +spectacle to which it had a right, and people were entertaining all +kinds of suppositions as to the cause of locking the doors of the +morgue. + +After crossing the clerk’s office, William Dow led Mr. Kelly and Davis +into the directors’ private office, who were absent at that moment. +When there alone with them, he said: + +“This man is Miss Ada’s murderer, I am convinced.” + +“It is quite possible,” answered Kelly. “I have a bad opinion of him. +What do you think, my dear Mr. Davis?” + +“You know,” said the coroner, “that I have always thought Miss Ada’s +husband guilty. But the voluntary appearance of the man, and what I +have just heard trouble my conscience somewhat. I do not dare to give +an opinion.” + +“Follow me a moment in what I have to say,” resumed the detective, “and +without entering upon any hypothesis, let us reason only on what we +have seen and heard.” + +The worthy Kelly, who liked nothing as much as to listen to his friend +Dow, and who, besides, asked nothing better than to be rid of the whole +affair, sank back in an arm-chair and crossed his arms; and the coroner +signified that he was ready to listen. + +“Here is a person,” resumed the retired doctor, “who pretends that +he did not hear of the violent death of this woman whose husband +he was, until he reached St. Louis three days ago, and in that city +where her photographs are on exhibition everywhere, he did not seek to +assure himself, by examining one of them, that it really was his wife. +Then, this man who through the same papers in which he read the event +certainly was aware of the suspicions of which he was the object, and +the reward promised for his arrest, this man arrives here, affects to +know nothing of the fact, which, however, so directly affects him, and +instead of hastening to the morgue where he knows that the head is +exhibited, he does not concern himself an instant about the identity +of the victim, but goes straight to the police. Does not this conduct +betray in the most evident manner a system adopted in advance, and +matured after deep reflection, a system one basis of which is the +non-recognition of the drowned woman, which has just been observed?” + +“Eh! eh!” murmured Mr. Kelly, with a smile, “that is very well +reasoned.” + +“Gobson, in your presence, is calm, and a perfect master of himself,” +continued William Dow, “and when you ask him how it happens that he has +known this event for so short a time he answers you that he comes from +the Rocky Mountains, where he has been several months. Now, Mr. Davis +knows that a few days before the crime, hardly six weeks ago, James +Gobson was met at Jefferson, in Missouri; why then does he tell this +lie?” + +“It is true,” said the coroner, in his turn; “there is a contradiction +about it which is indeed of a nature to arouse suspicion.” + +“That is not all. When, just now, after he said that he did not +recognize Miss Ada, you insisted on this point, that she was recognized +by the two maids, Gobson committed the imprudence of addressing you +this question: ‘Both of them, do you say, both of them recognized Miss +Ada.’ Why should he have this doubt in regard to both recognitions? One +of them, then, astonished him, which one? Mary’s, of course, who, in +fact, refused to recognize her former mistress, whose features were, +however, fresh in her memory. Does not this coincidence strike you? Do +you not see in it the beginning of a proof of an understanding between +these two persons?” + +“That is indisputable,” said Kelly, radiant. + +“That is very possible,” confessed Mr. Davis, more prudently. + +“Gobson tells you, it is true, that it would be for his interest +to recognize Miss Ada, since her death would give him twenty +thousand dollars, but he has this moment a much greater anxiety than +gaining that sum--that of escaping accusation, and this kind of +disinterestedness is one of the weapons he proposes to use. In the +first place the theft of the jewels of his victim is a compensation +for abandoning the twenty thousand dollars; moreover, he hopes, no +doubt, that this money will not be lost to him, for, in the matter of +a contract of life insurance, the forfeiture having a long term, he +reserves for himself certainly the chance to maintain his rights, +when, either through prescription, the uselessness of the inquest, or +by acquittal, for he has foreseen all, he will be safe from pursuit as +a criminal, therefore to recognize his wife was more dangerous from +every point of view than not to recognize her.” + +“Very just, very just,” observed the chief of police; “but why has that +fool come to give himself up?” + +“My dear Mr. Kelly,” answered Dow, “because he is a bold and skilful +man. What is passing between us is a reason for it. Even yesterday Mr. +Davis and you did not suspect his culpability, while now, just because +he has come to you, you hesitate to believe it. Did he not fear being +arrested some day? In order to boldly dispose of the stolen jewels at +a later period, in order to get the premium on his insurance policy, +should he not first be free from the hands of the law. He plays a +shrewd game who comes forward to meet danger. I do not know whether we +shall succeed in convicting him, but my reason and conscience tell me +that he is the assassin, or at least the accomplice of assassins.” + +“Apropos of accomplices,” interrupted Mr. Kelly, “how happens it that, +in spite of the reward offered, a reward that I have raised to two +thousand dollars, the two men who aided in carrying off Miss Ada have +not presented themselves? Knowing, thanks to the declaration of the +driver, that they left the carriage before it reached its destination +and, consequently, that they are not accomplices of the assassination, +I have re-advertised through the papers that they had no pursuit to +fear.” + +“The silence of these two men,” answered the detective, “may be +caused by two very different motives. In the first place it would not +be impossible that these aids were accomplices in the crime in the +complete acceptation of the word; that is, that they met Miss Ada +and her kidnapper after the departure of the carriage, to receive +their share of the jewels. It will be readily understood that they +cared little for your reward. Then, it may also be, and this idea +was suggested to me by certain information which I promise myself to +control and to complete, that these two aids, as you very justly call +them, might have been unconscious aids only, brought from afar by James +Gobson to help him in his enterprise, without knowing his real purpose, +then sent away by him to places where it is certain that neither our +papers nor even the rumors of our cities will reach.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“That, if these Indians, so true in their costumes, singing and +dancing, were real Indians from the prairies, it would not astonish me. +Now you must know that among the Sioux or Comanches the story of the +assassination of Miss Ada is unknown.” + +“By George, my dear Dow, you are admirable!” cried Kelly in the +greatest enthusiasm. + +“Then you are going to arrest Gobson?” + +“I think I shall, if Mr. Davis is of the same opinion.” + +“It is exactly my opinion,” answered the coroner, who having a shrewder +mind than that of the chief of police, was no less astonished at the +deductions of the detective. “Now I am convinced, and as I have here in +my pocket-book the warrant which I have issued against James Gobson, +his arrest is the simplest thing in the world. Come, I will take charge +of it.” + +“Here, my dear William, is a haul for your net for which my worthy +Young will never forgive you,” observed Kelly, laughing and opening the +door of the clerk’s office. “Hark! there he is.” + +The great Young was, indeed, in the next room. Being warned by one of +his agents that the crowd was becoming more numerous and noisier than +usual around the morgue, the captain of detectives hurried to the spot, +and, seeing the doors of the dismal building closed, he went to the +clerk’s room to inquire the cause of this riotous crowd. + +“Then, let us leave him the pleasure and honor of arresting Gobson,” +proposed Dow. + +“Very well,” said the coroner, who, perhaps, had no intense longing to +accomplish this mission himself, and he rapidly acquainted Young with +what had happened and what had been decided upon. Then he gave him the +warrant. + +The captain, although he still adhered to his belief in the culpability +of Saunders, did not make any remark; he turned upon his heels and went +to the door which led from the clerk’s office to the public gallery. + +“One word, my good Young,” said William Dow, signing him to stop. +“Take your precautions; he is a solid customer, and I should not wonder +if he were armed.” + +This was all that was needed to excite the daring of the terrible +detective. He answered with a proud smile, and pushed open the door. + +James Gobson, leaning against the heavy railing which protects the +glass window, behind which the bodies are exposed, from the rudeness of +the crowd, was quietly reading the New York Herald, but he read it with +only one eye, for, at the sound of men leaving the clerk’s office, he +drew himself up, let his paper fall, and took a few steps backward. + +His face was so perfectly calm that one could not have said that he was +putting himself on the defensive. + +But when he saw this powerful man, whom he did not know, coming toward +him, he reached the end of the gallery with one bound, and hearing +Young call out to him in his stentorian voice: “It is useless to +resist, sir, I have orders to arrest you,” he drew a revolver from his +pocket, aimed it at the captain, and answered him in a tone which left +no doubt as to his intention: + +“Why arrest me? If you come near me I shall kill you. A citizen of this +free country cannot be arrested like this.” + +“That is what I feared,” murmured the stout Kelly, who, although very +brave, did not care to risk his life in such an adventure; so, thinking +it wise to parley with him, he took Young by the arm and said in answer +to Gobson: + +“As an American, your remark does not lack justice; but as the former +husband of Ada Ricard it is not common sense, for you are suspected +of being her murderer, and there is a writ against you which must be +executed.” + +“I, the assassin--it is false!” cried James Gobson, and his arm still +preserved its horizontal position. + +At the same moment a great shouting was heard outside. The crowd had +divined what had passed; they wished the murderer to be delivered up to +them, and threatened, in spite of the policemen, to invade the morgue. + +“You understand,” resumed the chief of police, “if you do not give +yourself up with a good grace I shall order the doors to be opened.” + +Miss Ada’s former husband turned somewhat pale, for he knew how the +people in America set to work to administer justice; however, he +replied in a voice none the less steady: + +“I am innocent. Anything rather than deliver myself up like a coward.” + +But he had hardly uttered these words when a pistol shot was heard, he +gave a cry and his shattered revolver fell from his hand. + +All this was due to William Dow, who had entered the exhibition-room, +and had slipped behind the curtain until he was opposite James Gobson, +and a ball skilfully sent had disarmed without wounding him. + +Understanding that all resistance had become useless, Gobson +immediately surrendered to Captain Young, who sprang forward. + +Mr. Kelly ordered the prisoner to be taken to the hospital through the +clerk’s room and the inner courts, for it did not seem to him prudent +to face the crowd, whose excitement the pistol shot had increased. Then +he rushed out of doors that he might himself announce the arrest of +Miss Ada Ricard’s murderer. + +At this news, a thousand enthusiastic hurrahs arose, and the chief of +police felt the gentle satisfaction of having his ears shattered by the +shouts of “Three cheers for Kelly! Kelly forever!” shouts that not only +flattered his pride, but assured his re-election. + +A few moments later, William Dow joined him, and Kelly affectionately +pressed his hand, for it really was to his intelligence and skill that +he owed this new victory. + +As for Captain Young, although but half convinced of the guilt of his +prisoner, he conveyed him in a carriage--a quarter of an hour later--to +the Tombs, with much advice to the director. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A CRIMINAL COURT IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK. + + +That same day the arrest of James Gobson was known all over the city, +and in the evening the principal papers were full of the most absurd +and sensational details of the scene at the morgue. + +The pistol-shot fired by William Dow was represented by some of these +papers as a veritable volley of musketry. Some said that Miss Ada’s +assassin did not give himself up until he had fought and overpowered +half a dozen policemen; others, that it was necessary to fire at and +disable him in order to capture him. + +Not until the next day were the facts exactly known, owing to the +eagerness with which the police of America inform the public, to give +it every means of control, not only by communicating official reports, +but by authorizing journalists to visit the prisoners. + +James Gobson found his cell besieged by a troop of reporters, but the +story he told the first could have served for all the others, for it +did not vary a syllable. + +He had fully recovered his coolness; he ate, drank, and smoked like a +man whose conscience is perfectly quiet. When he read anything severe +about himself in the papers, he merely shrugged his shoulders. + +When he was confronted with the witnesses, skilfully brought together +by Mr. Mortimer and Davis, Thomson, the livery stable-keeper, and Tom +Katters, his driver, who had recognized him by his features and voice, +then with ten of Miss Ada Ricard’s guests, who declared that his form +and bearing were those of the Indian in whose arms the unfortunate +woman had been carried off, he answered them firmly, but without anger, +that they were mistaken. + +As for Mary, she could say nothing since she had seen the kidnapper +only at a distance, beyond the throng of dancers. + +But James Gobson had convinced none of his innocence, Mr. Davis less +than anyone, for he refused to give him any liberty whatever, and +notwithstanding the efforts of the lawyer Macready, who called to his +aid all the ruses which the arsenal of the American law provides, the +examination was so quickly ended that a month after his arrest the +prisoner was informed that he was soon to appear before the Criminal +Court. + +The grand jury referred the indictment to the common jury. + +“Do you plead guilty, or not guilty?” asked his defender on bringing +him this news. + +“Not guilty, Mr. Macready, not guilty,” answered the prisoner, warmly. +“Do you doubt my innocence after all the proof I have given you?” + +“Heaven forbid. I am certain of it, and I promise you that the lawyer +for the State--the illustrious O’Brien--will have some ugly hours to +pass,” and leaving his client with this kind promise, Mr. Macready went +to once more look over his documents. + +As for James Gobson, we must confess, that when he was alone in his +cell, he did not so well conceal the anxiety which he had felt for +several days and which visibly increased as the hour for his trial +approached. + +Public opinion, which has such great weight in matters of justice in +the United States, was not favorable to him; and he lacked, what to the +accused is a defensive weapon, often all-powerful--he belonged to no +political party or any religious sect. + +Now, James Gobson had not this advantage on his side. Politics were +quiet, and without very great difficulty, in spite of the trickery +of his defender, they had drawn the twelve necessary jurors, a more +difficult operation in the United States than elsewhere. + +Mr. Macready, who was an able man, had full confidence in the result of +the trial, and so well convinced his client of this that on the morning +when he was to appear before the criminal court, he breakfasted with +an excellent appetite. Toward eleven o’clock, when the guards came to +take the prisoner before the audience, he quietly put on his gloves, +followed them with firm step, and took his place before the judges more +as a curious spectator than as an accused man. + +The crowd was large, and occupied, as it was, by the wax head of Ada +Ricard, which had been placed on a small table, the people turned their +looks away to fasten them on James Gobson, whom, perhaps, not one +present knew by sight. But this movement of curiosity did not for a +moment disturb the accused, who was sitting near his lawyer and talking +to him in a low voice. + +James Gobson raised his head only when the chief justice, Mr. Douglas, +announced that the court was open. + +It is useless to say that Mr. Mortimer and the coroner, Davis, were +present, as well as our friends, William Dow and Young. + +When the usual formalities were gone through with, Mr. O’Brien, the +lawyer for the State, took up the arguments to review the facts on +which the accusation rested. + +If, among the auditors, there remained any persons still doubting the +guilt of James Gobson, they were soon convinced of it, for, after +having traced the accused back to the time of his marriage, to review +his conduct toward his wife, his divorce, his habits, his vows of +revenge, and his adventurous life, Mr. O’Brien showed him a few days +before the crime at Jefferson preparing everything for its execution. +Then he traced him to the livery stable-keeper, followed him to the +ball at Miss Ada’s house, accompanied him to Yorkville, and then +taking as a basis the ingenious deductions he had made, he got on +board the boat with James Gobson and his wife, to make those present +who were listening to him, witness the terrible scene that took place +on the river at night. They saw the assassin choke Miss Ada, rob her of +her jewels and clothing, and leave nothing on her by which she could be +recognized in case she should come to the surface of the water later, +fasten to one of her legs the barrel of tar stolen from Wharf 43; that +the body, kept down at the bottom of the river, could not float before +decomposition had made it quite unrecognizable, and finally, to fling +into the deep the unhappy victim of this frightful murder. + +“Having accomplished his crime, then,” said his accuser, “James Gobson +had only one anxiety--to prepare an alibi to escape all suspicions. +He then set out for the Rocky Mountains, where he remained not three +months, as he pretended, but only one month; and when he returned and +presented himself at the central police office it was to affirm that +he had heard of the crime only a few hours, and that the drowned woman +was not the one who had borne his name. Fortunately for justice, two +honorable inhabitants of Jefferson saw James Gobson in that city only a +few days before the crime, and ten witnesses found in him the features, +voice and stature of the man who hired a carriage, gave orders to the +coachman, Tom Katters, and so audaciously carried away Miss Ada Ricard +from her guests. As for his accomplices, if they did not betray him, +it was because they received their share of the booty, and because +silence alone could save them.” + +After this plain conclusive presentation of Mr. O’Brien, the court +heard the witnesses. All confirmed their preceding testimony, all again +recognized the poor woman in the wax head, excepting Mary, who, without +daring to raise her eyes, murmured-- + +“I did not recognize my mistress at the morgue; how do you expect me to +recognize her here?” + +Only one witness failed to appear, and that was the fat Saunders; but, +after a medical examination, the court and Mr. Macready excused him +from appearing. Since we saw him last his condition had not improved; +when Mr. Davis made a last attempt with him, he threw himself on his +knees crying: + +“It is I who am the cause of her death, but I did not mean to drown +her. Oh! that colonel, I will kill him.” + +And seeing in these inexplicable exclamations only the despair of a +lover maddened by the loss of his loved one, the coroner said that +Saunders before long would completely lose his reason. + +As overpowering as the first part of this testimony might have been to +him, James Gobson lost none of his calmness. He interrupted neither Mr. +O’Brien nor the witnesses; he merely smiled at times. + +The honorable chief justice, Mr. Douglas, had not addressed a word to +James Gobson, and was about to let Mr. Macready have his turn, when +Mr. Gobson suddenly arose and said in a firm voice: + +“Your honors, and gentlemen of the jury; my lawyer, I am sure, is +going to prove to you, without much trouble, how unfounded are the +accusations which you have just heard. I wish only to tell you this: +That all the witnesses who declare that they recognize me for the +person of whom they speak are misled by a strange resemblance, as well +as those who find in this wax face the features of the former Mrs. +Gobson. I am no more the murderer of the drowned woman of whom that +cast is taken, than the drowned woman is Ada Ricard.” + +Having uttered these words, without feeling disturbed at the murmur +with which the spectators had received them, the accused seated himself. + +Mr. Macready then took the stand, and although his task seemed +difficult, one would have thought from his very first words that there +was not the shadow of a doubt in his mind as to the acquittal of his +client. + +“Whether the victim of this mysterious event,” were his opening words, +“is or is not the woman called Ada Ricard, having first been Mrs. +Gobson, matters little. Some recognize her, others do not, and the man +whose greatest interest it would be to find the features of his wife +in this wax face sees only a resemblance which did not for a moment +deceive him. Yes, gentlemen, the greatest interest, for if Miss Ada +Ricard were dead, her former husband, James Gobson, would receive +twenty thousand dollars from Gresham Insurance Company. I know, and +James Gobson knows as well as I do, that the assassination of one by +the other of the contractors annuls the contract; then you would have +to accuse my client of complicity only, for bold and skilful as you +believe him, he would never have been so simple as to make himself +unworthy of the only benefit he might obtain from the death of her +who had been his wife. The very situation in which you have placed +him makes the crime impossible; he had no object to commit it only +through vengeance. To give himself that cruel satisfaction, he would +have risked his honor, his life, and twenty thousand dollars; that is +a great deal. Oh! I know very well that my opponent would like to make +him out not only an assassin but a thief, who not only killed his wife +but even robbed her of her jewels, and that they were the reward of his +crime, a reward that would compensate, and how greatly indeed, for the +loss of twenty thousand dollars. + +“Well, where are these jewels? Has he sold them? To whom? Have you +found them at his house, in his trunks? It is not sufficient to say of +a man that he has stolen; if he has not been caught in the act, it must +be further proven what he has done with the articles stolen or discover +a trace of them. In this case you make the accusation of a theft and +the main proof nowhere exists. I affirm, then, that you cannot condemn +him as a murderer, for, apart from the theft, he would have acted like +a fool if he had made himself the murderer of his wife. + +“Let us consider. If he had murdered and robbed Ada Ricard, what would +have been his object in presenting himself to Mr. Kelly? Consider, I +say, that here is a man who, having a certain fortune, has committed +a crime which brings him nearly one hundred thousand dollars. He can +escape pursuit, yet he delivers himself up to the police. Is the +idea admissible for a single instant? No; the truth is this: When, +learning the death of the former Mrs. Gobson, James remembered his +assurance policy; and his sole aim in coming to New York was to obtain +a death certificate to benefit by the clauses of this policy, and it +was he--even when he could not doubt your suspicions, ready to break +forth into an accusation--it was he who cried out, sacrificing his own +interests: ‘You are all mistaken, that is not Ada Ricard.’ + +“Does not common sense, logic and reason overthrow your romantic +construction? Unless it was committed by some blood-thirsty brute, +is not all crime a speculation? A monstrous speculation, but still a +speculation. Well, is James Gobson a brute? No; then what could his +speculation have been? + +“Let us pass now to these facts which the lawyer for the State links +with such skill, or what he thinks he does. They will not bear +examining an instant; he is no wise man who accepts them. You wish to +make out that James Gobson killed his wife because he tells you that +he was in the Rocky Mountains at the moment of the crime, and that two +persons saw him a few days before at Jefferson. In the first place +were not these persons mistaken? But admitting that they tell the +truth, I do not think you have made a point as regards the assertion. + +“James Gobson must then be forced, under penalty of being regarded as a +criminal, to recall what he was doing during that night that Miss Ada +was entertaining her friends? I confess to you, for my part, that if I +had to say what I was doing and where I was three months ago at that +hour, I should be very much embarrassed; and I defy any one here to +declare on his honor that he can precisely answer such a question. And +then, is it my mission to prove that my client is innocent? That is a +mistake; it is you, whose mission it is to prove him guilty. Now you do +not do so. You present a man disguised and masked. You do not tear off +the mask. You give him accomplices and do not find them again. You say +that he has stolen, and you do not know what has became of the articles +stolen. All that is very serious, and have I not a right to cry out? +A crime has been committed--a mysterious crime--whose victim even, +is not absolutely recognized; a crime that has deeply stirred public +opinion, which you wish to bring to your side and calm, and you think +it indispensable to offer a guilty man; whoever it may be, were it even +James Gobson, a perfectly innocent man.” + +This, it will be understood, is only Mr. Macready’s plea abridged, for +he spoke more than five hours, and often succeeded in winning a portion +of his hearers. But his influence was not so great on the jury, for, +after less than an hour’s deliberation, they brought in a verdict of +guilty. + +On hearing the head juryman declare his client guilty of murder, with +extenuating circumstances there could be no question about it--nothing +of the kind being allowed in the American law, Mr. Macready, who had +arisen, sank back overcome on his chair. As for James Gobson, he did +not betray the least surprise, but a smile of scorn was on his lips. + +Hon. Mr. Douglas now arose. He read in a loud voice the various +articles of the penal law relating to the case, and pronounced the +accused condemned to death. Then, after consulting an almanac, he added: + +“James Gobson, unless you have some serious objection to the day, you +will be hanged on the twenty-fifth of this month. To-day is Tuesday; it +will be a fortnight from to-morrow.” + +“I should prefer, your honor,” answered the condemned man, with much +coolness, “to live a little longer, but I have no other remark to make. +Wednesday awakens no repugnance in my mind. On that day you will cause +an innocent man to die.” + +After putting on his hat and clasping the hand of his defender, James +Gobson retired as calm as when he had come there. + +The crowd, from which there had not been the slightest murmur of +approbation or disapprobation, moved quietly away. It was evident, +nevertheless, that Mr. Macready had gained a certain number of his +hearers. To the minds of some there was a doubt as to the guilt of his +client. + +The intrepid Young was one of the latter; for, as he was leaving the +court-room in company with William Dow, the latter asking him if he was +convinced, he answered: + +“Not at all. That devil of a man did not betray himself a single +minute; he had the calmness of an innocent man. Besides, what vexes me +is that we cannot put our hands on his accomplices or the jewels of +Miss Ada. Mr. Macready is right, if he stole the jewels why did he come +and give himself up?” + +“To believe a thing you have to see it.” + +“Well, deuce take it, when I see a thing I know it.” + +“Then, when the wind carries away your hat you do not believe it is +the wind because it is not visible. Ah, my dear captain, you are the +bravest soldier I know, but you will never be a wise detective. Well, +now, to please you and quiet your conscience, I promise to find you +James Gobson’s accomplices and his wife’s jewels.” + +“Ah, that day my admiration for you will be unbounded.” + +William Dow received this flattering assurance with a sad smile, which +said that he had a very different aim than the puerile satisfaction of +vanity; then he pressed the hand the chief of detectives offered him +and left, saying: + +“Yes, certainly, I shall find the accomplices, or rather the aids, of +James Gobson, and before long, I hope.” + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW THE WORTHY MR. MIDLER EXHORTED HIS PENITENTS TO DIE LIKE CHRISTIANS. + + +William Dow resided in Sixth Avenue, in a pretty and comfortably +furnished house. He lived very retired, with a charming child of +sixteen, Miss Jane, who called him “my friend,” and showed him the most +tender affection. Who the young girl was none knew, and the few who +tried to question Mrs. Wandright, the governess, gained little, for the +good woman invariably answered: “Miss Jane is the daughter of a distant +relative of Mr. Dow; she was an orphan, and he adopted her.” + +However it was, Miss Jane was an adorable young girl, morally and +physically. She was a blonde, slender, but not fragile, with a rosy, +smiling mouth, large blue eyes, both lively and gentle, and was pretty +enough to set the least poetical Yankee to dreaming. When one knew the +kindness of her heart, the uprightness of her mind, and the refinement +and purity of her sentiments, he could not but adore her. + +William Dow adored her, but with a reserve, tinged with melancholy, +that caused a struggle with his affectionate impulses. + +When Miss Jane gazed at him with her pure eyes, after one of his +frequent absences, and throwing her arms around his neck, covered his +forehead and cheeks with innocent kisses, scolding him gently for +leaving her so often, William, whose strength of will we already know, +would turn suddenly pale and look sad. + +When unobserved he gazed at the child, who looked smilingly at life, a +shadow rested on his forehead and his eyes became moist. One would have +thought Miss Jane was to him both the source of happiness and remorse. + +She occupied all of the first story of the house. She had a dainty +sleeping-room and a large parlor, fragrant with flowers, and filled +with birds. Mrs. Wandright occupied a small room near her pupil’s +apartments. + +William Dow reserved the ground floor for himself, the principal room +being his study. There he received the chief of police, Captain Young, +and a few rare friends, but the most of his time was spent in solitude, +his only companions being the books in his library. + +Sometimes Miss Jane would come and take her friend away from his work, +and he would then smile at the little girl he so dearly loved that she +might have no anxiety. Occasionally they went out together, sometimes +on horseback, sometimes on foot, and he completed her education during +this exercise by interesting and instructive conversation. In a word, +between these two, whom a mysterious event had united, there existed +an intimacy of admiration and love on the part of the child, and +protection and duty on the part of the man. + +“How learned you are, my friend,” cried Jane, when, in his clear, +precise way of stating things, her professor had explained to her some +physical phenomenon or some controverted point in history. + +William Dow, turning aside his head, blushed as if the compliment awoke +some sorrowful memory. + +Although Miss Jane was carefully guarded against indulging unhealthy +curiosity, she learned, as every one in New York, the history of the +drowned woman, James Gobson’s arrest and his appearance before the +Criminal Court. Therefore she was impatiently awaiting William Dow, and +when she heard him come in she ran to meet him in her eagerness to hear +the news. + +“Confess it was just,” said the detective, “the wretch is condemned to +death.” + +The young girl, in the kindness of her heart could not restrain a cry +of pity, and, no doubt, she was about to ask for the details, but +William Dow adroitly changed the conversation. + +In the city hardly anything was talked of that evening but the sentence +of James Gobson; and the next day when the papers gave the arguments, +there were two opinions as among the hearers in court. The majority +thought the sentence just, while the minority believed the explanations +of the lawyer Macready, regarding the innocence of the condemned, or at +least, the doubt, of which he ought to have the benefit. + +But James Gobson belonged to no political party or religious sect, or +any small church, and as none, in consequence, had any direct interest +through party spirit in making himself his defender, the excitement +rapidly died away, to be roused again on the eve of the execution. + +All this time, Mary, who was on guard at the abandoned home, had been +making an inventory of the unfortunate Miss Ada’s wardrobe, while the +condemned man passed the last days allowed him by his honor Judge +Douglas, with considerable bravery. + +“He is a very agreeable boarder,” said Mr. Peters, the manager of the +Tombs. “He has received an excellent education, and I enjoy calling on +him. Everything will go very quietly between Master Meyer and him.” + +The amiable Mr. Peters smiled as he got off this dismal joke, for +Meyer, as we have said, was the hangman for the County of New York. + +It was with him that James Gobson would have to do in a few days. + +While awaiting this dreadful moment the prisoner seemed to be taking +things rather philosophically. When the worthy Mr. Midler, the reverend +Methodist, whose charge it was to prepare the condemned for death, came +to visit him, James Gobson politely begged him to leave him in quiet; +then he offered the worthy man, in the place of a religious talk, a +glass of sherry, which was always accepted. + +Mr. Midler was a worthy man, gentle and indulgent, having ordinary +intelligence, but an excellent stomach, which made him sometimes +forget one of the fundamental principles of the sect to which he +belonged--to set the example of abstinence. He liked good living and +good wines, which had a visible effect, for he was plump and fresh, +rosy-faced and smiling. + +Such was the consoler whom James Gobson received politely, but whose +holy exhortations he philosophically repelled. + +However, when a week had elapsed, the condemned lost his calmness +somewhat at times, it required an effort to repress his anger, and when +Mr. Mortimer, the sheriff, who was to be present at his execution, +came to see him on the evening of the fatal day, he arose and walked +directly toward him. + +The honorable magistrate, perhaps for a moment, believed that the +prisoner was going to make him some important revelation, but, as if +ashamed of his weakness, James Gobson suddenly resumed his ordinary +demeanor and simply asked his visitor: + +“It is to-morrow, is it not?” + +“Yes; to-morrow, at nine o’clock in the morning,” answered the sheriff, +“and I come to offer myself as an intermediary in case you have any +legal arrangements to make or any papers to convey to your family.” + +“I am very grateful to you; you will find my will in my pocket; it +contains my last wishes.” + +“Have you nothing else to say to me?” + +“Nothing, unless, as it is, to protest my innocence for the last time.” + +“Would you like to receive a call from the pastor, Midler?” + +“To-morrow morning, certainly. The worthy chaplain will help me to +finish the bottle of excellent whiskey which the warden kindly sent me; +besides, when one has a disagreeable journey to take it is always well +to be accompanied and encouraged, as long as possible, by a worthy man.” + +Finding that he would obtain nothing from the condemned, Mr. Mortimer +wished him good courage and left. + +James Gobson returned to his table and leaned on his elbow, hiding +his pale face in his hands. If the sheriff could have seen him then +he would have discovered that there had been more bravado than real +courage in his attitude. It seemed as if, sustained until then by an +imaginary hope, it was now lost. + +But he dined as usual, passed the night without complaining, and the +next day at seven o’clock, when Mr. Midler came to him he manifested no +emotion. Now, there remained but a few hours for him to live. + +This was his own conviction, and he was listening to Mr. Midler’s +religious exhortations with more thoughtfulness than the latter had +hoped, when suddenly the door of the cell was opened to admit the +warden, accompanied by Mr. Mortimer and Davis. + +The prisoner turned somewhat pale, but soon recovering that powerful +self-command of which he had given so many proofs, he said to them in a +firm voice, taking out his watch: + +“Why, gentlemen, you are ahead of time; it is hardly eight o’clock, and +the execution is not to be until nine.” + +“You will not be hanged to-day, James Gobson,” replied the sheriff. + +“Why not? Is there any sudden proof of my innocence? It was time.” + +“No; but a serious accident has happened to Meyer.” + +“Meyer, ah! I know.” + +“He broke his leg a moment ago.” + +“Poor man.” + +“As his aid is a young, inexperienced man, I have had to telegraph +to have Meyer’s assistant sent me, and he cannot arrive until this +evening.” + +“Then it will be to-morrow.” + +“It will be to-morrow.” + +And, bowing to the prisoner as well as the pastor, the officers left +the cell. + +“Supposing we continue our conversation,” said the reverend gentleman +to Gobson, after their departure. + +“No,” answered Mr. Gobson, warmly, his face having suddenly recovered +its sceptical expression; “no, Mr. Midler, we will not resume it until +to-morrow morning, if you will be so kind. I have arisen earlier to-day +than usual, and all these successive emotions have made a hollow place +in my stomach. Will you do me the honor to breakfast with me? I have +two bottles of exquisite port which I did not expect to drink; we will +empty them together. I promise to listen to you while eating, and we +will strengthen at the same time both soul and body.” + +“Very well, Mr. Gobson,” sighed the good minister, somewhat abashed at +the pleasantry, but evidently touched by the proposition. “It is my +mission to remain with you until the time of----” + +“The rope. Well, since an accident to Master Meyer gives me twenty-four +hours more, let us breakfast.” + +James Gobson had called the guard and ordered some ham, cold meats and +Chester cheese. + +Good Mr. Midler was sitting opposite his penitent. + +“To your health,” said the latter, after filling a glass for the +excellent man. + +“To the health of your soul,” answered the pastor, with true unction, +and raising his eyes to heaven he devoutly drank the wine, then bravely +attacked the iced partridge which his host had placed before him. + +James Gobson also fell to with a will, and there was a momentary +silence between the convivial host and guest. + +William Dow himself would have been astonished at the philosophy and +coolness of the man he had caused to be arrested, and Mr. Davis, at the +sight of his calmness, would have remembered his first doubts, which +the arguments, it is true, had quickly banished from his mind. + +When his partridge had disappeared, and his glass was emptied a second +time, the Methodist threw himself back, uttering a deep sigh. + +“What is the matter, reverend sir?” asked the prisoner, affectionately. + +“What a misfortune,” answered Mr. Midler, “that I did not know you +sooner. I should certainly have checked you by my advice on the path +you have entered.” + +“Do you think I regret it any less than you, sir? Will you have a slice +of this ham?” + +“Resist one’s propensities; everything is in that, Mr. Gobson. This ham +is excellent.” + +“It comes from York, where the best wine is had, too.” + +“Yours is delicious. We are all predestined to eternal felicity, +and----” + +“Will you have a glass of port?” + +“With pleasure. And these are the first concessions we make to our +passions, and to our tastes, which lead us on, but----” + +“Will you have a little of this cheese, it is perfect for digestion?” + +“Yes, epicures think a great deal of it. But if our miserable nature +causes us to fall, God renders our faith a justification and conversion +takes place instantaneously----” + +“Do you like coffee?” + +“I think it indispensable to every meal.” + +“I have not failed to ask for it. One would say that my guard was only +waiting for the proper moment to bring it, for, see, here he comes.” + +In fact, the servant appointed to wait on the prisoner was that moment +entering the cell with a waiter, which he placed on the table, then +left. + +James Gobson filled Mr. Midler’s cup, who thanked him with a tender +glance. + +“Do you smoke?” asked the prisoner. + +“No, thanks,” answered the minister; “Mrs. Midler does not allow me to +do so.” + +“But smoke does not incommode you.” + +“By no means. What was I saying?” + +“That God renders faith a justification, and that conversion takes +place instantly.” + +“Ah, yes! There is some pleasure in exhorting with you.” + +“Talk on, sir, talk on; I am listening to you with the most respectful +attention; but do not let your coffee get cold. You must take it +smoking-hot or iced; otherwise it is a detestable drink.” + +“You are right.” And while sipping his wine the worthy Midler resumed: +“The conversion is instantaneous.... God’s miracles work ever ... the +soul is elevated, and if there is any account to settle with men ... +grace renders us worthy of this eternal felicity for which we are all +predestined.” + +But Gobson no longer listened, if ever he had listened seriously. With +his chair tipped back against the wall, and leaning back in it, he was +phlegmatically sending rings of smoke from his cigar to the ceiling, +while his preacher, yielding to the influence of digestion, lowered his +voice more and more, gently closed his eyelids, devoutly crossed his +arms on his bosom and fell into his customary doze, murmuring: + +“Excellent port ... instantaneous pardon ... York ham ... felicity +eternal.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IN WHICH JAMES GOBSON MIRACULOUSLY ESCAPES THE GALLOWS, AND THE +HONORABLE CORONER DAVIS’ REMORSE. + + +By a strange coincidence, while this scene was occurring, an inventory +was being taken of Miss Ada’s furniture and wardrobe. + +The owner of the house in Twenty-third Street wishing to take +possession of it unfurnished, the law had decided that all that had +belonged to the unhappy woman should be sold, and that the proceeds of +the sale should be held three years at the disposition of the heirs. +At the expiration of this time the money should be placed in the State +treasury. + +Mr. Mortimer’s clerk and the sheriff took charge of this inventory, +and Mary, who, as we have said, was watching the house, was helping +these gentlemen. They had just left the parlor to pass into the +sleeping-room, and the young girl, with many sobs in her voice, was +enumerating each of the articles which the secretary of the justice of +peace was writing down on his list, when they heard a carriage stop +before the house. + +“It is the sheriff, no doubt,” said the clerk to Mary; “you must run +and let him in.” + +“The watchman is below,” answered the maid. + +“Then let us hurry and get through our work.” + +But the young girl, who had just taken a bundle of lace from one of the +wardrobes, suddenly stood still and her face became frightfully pale. + +She had heard in the hall, and the clerk and his secretary also heard, +a woman’s voice raised to an angry pitch. + +Then the sound of hurrying footsteps was heard in the parlor, the door +of the sleeping-room suddenly opened, a woman appeared, and Mary, with +eyes wild with fright, shrieked and leaned against a piece of furniture +to keep from falling. + +“What does all this mean?” asked the new comer, with a questioning look +at each actor in the scene. + +“Madam, Miss Ada!” gasped the servant. “Miss Ada!” repeated the clerk, +bounding from the arm-chair on which he was reclining. + +“Well, yes, Miss Ada,” said the young woman. “Are you all mad? And are +you even more so than the others?” she said, moving rapidly toward +Mary, who threw herself in her arms, crying: + +“I said that she was not dead!” + +“Dead! What do you say?” + +“Why, yes, dead,” repeated the clerk in his turn; “they hanged your +murderer this morning.” + +“My murderer?” + +“Yes--James Gobson.” + +“James Gobson, my former husband?” + +“That very man, who killed you and threw you into the water, three +months ago.” + +“Killed me--threw me into the water? Unless this is an odious joke you +are playing, gentlemen, it is frightful. Come, Mary, let us run and see +what it means.” + +“Oh, it is too late,” observed the sheriff. “Master Meyer must have +finished his work. It was at nine o’clock, at the Tombs, as usual.” + +The woman gave a cry of horror and sank into a chair; but she +immediately arose, ran down the stairs and into the street. Without +taking time to put on a hat or shawl, Mary followed her. + +The carriage which had brought the traveler was waiting for her at the +door; they both entered it, ordering the driver to take them to the +prison. The horse set off at a gallop. + +But when, half an hour later, they reached the square, on one side of +which stood the Tombs, the carriage got into so dense a crowd that it +had to stop. + +“It is impossible to go any farther,” said the driver. + +Mary sprang to the ground. She had just caught a glimpse of Captain +Young, who, with the aid of one of his agents, was trying to drive away +the curious crowd. + +“Captain,” she cried, “in the name of God, let us pass.” + +“Will it be too late? Oh, these people alarm me. I beg you, sir, to +help us,” said the young woman beseechingly, having joined her servant. + +“Too late?” asked the chief of detectives in his rough voice, advancing +toward them. “What do you mean? There is no execution to-day.” + +“What! no execution!” cried the mistress and servant at the same time. +“James Gobson is still living.” + +“It is put off until to-morrow.” + +“God be praised,” said the chamber-maid with a sigh of relief. + +“‘God be praised.’ What is it to you?” repeated Young. + +“What is it to us, captain?” answered Mary. “Why, here is Miss Ada!” + +“Miss Ada,” exclaimed the detective. + +“My God, Miss Ada! My God!” + +Amazement would not allow him to say any more; he led away the two +women whom the crowd were approaching, for the nearest among them had +heard the few words that had been exchanged, and they repeated them +aloud, pointing to the young woman. + +The agents made a passage for their chief, who, after giving an order +to one of his men, immediately introduced mistress and maid into the +prison yard, then from there into the directors’ office. + +Mr. Peters, who was bending over his desk, raised his head at the +captain’s noisy entrance, and at the sight of his two proteges, +understanding nothing of the unexpected visit, he opened his eyes wide. + +“Miss Ada Ricard!” said Mr. Young, who not having quite recovered from +his amazement could not utter another word. + +“Miss Ada Ricard,” said the officer, rising suddenly; “the wife of....” + +“Her very self, sir,” affirmed the visitor; “the divorced wife of that +unfortunate James Gobson, who came near losing his life this morning +through a frightful mistake.” + +Mr. Peters gave one bound toward the woman who said these words, and +immediately recognizing her he could not find words to express his +astonishment. His looks wandered wildly from her to the chief of +detectives, who repeated: “My God, my God, what an adventure; I told +Mr. Dow so.” + +“You must notify Mr. Kelly and Mortimer at once,” said Mr. Peters +finally to the captain, when he had recovered somewhat. + +“I sent at once to one of my agents at the Central office,” answered +Young. + +“Meanwhile, gentlemen, cannot Miss Ada see Mr. Gobson?” asked the young +girl. + +“It would be cruel,” added her mistress, “to leave him any longer in +his horrible situation.” + +“You are right,” said the director, moving toward the door. “I have, +besides, no right to refuse the prisoner a visitor. What a scandal it +will be. Come, accompany us, captain.” + +In passing the former, Mr. Peters crossed the clerk’s court to reach +that part of the prison in which were the cells of those condemned to +death. + +The worthy officer walked so quickly, shaking his head and +gesticulating, that the two women could hardly keep up with him. + +Captain Young, who brought up the rear of the procession, exclaimed: + +“Ah! this will be a sad story to tell friend Dow.” + +They thus reached, almost on a run, the corridor on which James +Gobson’s cell opened. When he had reached the door the director had it +opened by the guard, who immediately approached, and he hastened in. +The prisoner was still in the position in which we left him. Lolling +back in his chair, he was finishing his second cigar, and the worthy +Mr. Midler, who was hardly awake, was psalmodizing tenderly: + +“Yes, my dear Mr. Gobson, a second of repentance on the part of the +sinner is sufficient to pay for all his errors, and....” + +But the sudden entrance of Mr. Peters cut short the words of the good +Methodist, and when he saw the two women who were accompanying the +director, he rubbed his eyes, imagining perhaps that he was still +asleep. + +As for James Gobson, at the sight of the visitors his face betrayed +more strongly than it had done since his sentence a violent emotion, +but through a strong effort of will he did not make a gesture or utter +a cry, and after having fixed his eyes upon the young woman for a +moment he turned to his guest, saying to him in a perfectly calm voice: + +“Dear Mr. Midler, permit me to present to you the former Mrs. Gobson, +Miss Ada Ricard, my unfortunate victim.” + +The reverend gentleman no longer thought he was asleep--he believed he +had become crazy. + +“Pardon me James for this horrible calamity, of which I involuntarily +came near being the cause,” said the woman whom the prisoner at once +recognized. “It is fortunate that I came in time.” + +“If Master Meyer had not broken his leg you would have come too late,” +answered the prisoner dryly. + +“I beg you to pardon me,” entreated the young woman, approaching Gobson +and holding out her hands. + +“Yes, certainly, I pardon you, since you are here;” and rising, he took +in his and affectionately pressed the hands of her who had saved his +life. + +At the same instant Captain Young respectfully made way for a new comer. + +It was Mr. Mortimer whom the messenger sent by the chief of detectives +met when within a few steps of the prison. + +The sheriff was very pale and he stammered to the pretty American: + +“Are you Miss Ada Ricard?” + +“I think so, sir,” answered the latter, smiling. + +In order to prove this identity, if the magistrate had wished to call +to his aid one of the well-known details in the person of the former +Mrs. Gobson, a detail specified by Dr. O’Neel in his report of the +autopsy, he would have seen, when she smiled, the space in her superb +teeth; but he paid no attention to it, for doubt was not possible. + +“You arrive just in time, madam,” he continued, “to prevent an +irreparable calamity; while waiting for the legal examination have the +kindness, I beg, to explain your long absence.” + +“I am quite willing to do so, sir, but not here,” she said, blushing. +Mr. Mortimer understood, and invited her to follow him into the clerk’s +room. + +“I am ready to obey your orders, sir,” said Miss Ada; “but what are you +going to do with James Gobson? Are we going to leave him here?” + +“Oh, I find it very pleasant in the worthy Mr. Midler’s society,” +observed the condemned, smiling at his consoler. + +The good Methodist could thank him only with a low bow, for he hardly +knew what he was about. + +“Madam,” said the sheriff, “I cannot give any orders in regard to the +prisoner.” + +“I understood the law did not foresee my case as it now stands,” +interrupted James. + +“The sentence must be revoked,” said the magistrate; “but I think that +Mr. Gobson can be set at liberty at once.” + +“Whatever sum is fixed I will pay,” said the young woman, warmly; +“it is the least I can do for a man whose life my absence came near +costing. I will see you soon again, James Commany.” While saying these +words, the former Mrs. Gobson had walked toward the corridor, where Mr. +Mortimer awaited her. + +The prisoner now held out his hand to the pastor, saying: + +“This does not prevent me from being quite grateful for your holy +exhortations, my reverend friend; of course you did not expect what +has just happened; nor I, either. Suppose we finish our spiritual +conversation with a glass of brandy.” + +“The designs of God are unfathomable, dear Mr. Gobson,” devoutly +answered the good man, holding out his glass; “but still preserve +yourself from the danger you have run, most certainly, for the +punishment of your errors.” + +“Oh, I will never forget it. Here’s to my resurrection and your health.” + +While drinking with Mr. Midler the prisoner resumed on his chair that +position essentially American in which his deliverer had found him. + +The latter meanwhile was saying to Mr. Mortimer, with whom the director +had left her alone in his office-- + +“Unless it is indispensable to do otherwise, I should much prefer, sir, +not to confess the motives of my journey, for the recital would oblige +me to name someone who is very desirous of remaining unknown. Let it +suffice you to know that this kidnapping, laid to the account of my +murderers, was planned in advance, and that I passed the two months and +a half, partly on the sea and partly at Havana. The only interesting +point to the law is that here I am, alive and in very good health. All +else belongs to my private life, and none has a right to ask an account +of it, for I am not, or rather I am no longer married.” + +“You are right, madam,” answered the sheriff, “you will, however, +confess that this is very extraordinary.” + +“What is more so, still, is your singular mistake.” + +“The mistake was general.” + +“Not so, for neither Mr. Gobson nor Mary recognized me in that +unfortunate woman.” + +“You will see the cast which has been made of it and you yourself will +be amazed.” + +“But Mr. Saunders ought not to have been mistaken.” + +“Mr. Saunders is a little out of his head. We have not been able to get +anything out of him.” + +“Poor man; this news pains me deeply.” + +“He accuses himself of your death. To believe him, he killed you +himself.” + +“He!” + +“At least as far as it was possible to understand him.” + +“But, first, I hope you are going to let me go home to my house.” + +“Certainly. I have notified Mr. Davis, the coroner in your district. +In a moment he will be here, and we will make out the necessary +formalities.” + +Mr. Mortimer did not think he spoke so truly, for that very moment +the office door opened and Mr. Kelly and Davis came out. In each of +these magistrates emotion was betrayed according to their respective +temperaments. The face of the big chief of police was flushed as in +a congestion, and that of the coroner was of a livid pallor. After +looking a few seconds at the charming face of the young woman, they +exchanged despairing looks. It was no longer to be doubted, ridicule +would fall on both of them. + +Mr. Davis, whose elevated mind saw only the error committed, asked +himself in horror what would have become of his honor as a magistrate, +if the absent woman had not presented herself in time. He certainly +could not have endured the shame. + +Mr. Kelly, who was more positive, saw in this strange event only a +calamity, which would singularly affect his political career. + +When they had recovered somewhat the officers questioned Miss Ada, who +told the same story as to Mr. Mortimer. + +“It is very well, madam,” answered the chief of police, with +difficulty conquering his anger; “but you might have dispensed with +that mysterious journey. Devil take it, there was no one to object +to your going. You were free to jilt that stupid Saunders for some +one else. Who can that woman be who resembles you so greatly? She was +even prettier than you. She had a tooth broken out and an ear torn +expressly--just as you have.” + +Kelly was so furious that, not very gallant usually, he became +absolutely rude. For sole answer to these rude questions, the one to +whom they were addressed gave him a gracious smile, which disclosed the +casket that lacked a pearl, and approaching him she raised with one +pretty little finger the big diamond beneath which was concealed the +slight wound which she had in her rosy and exquisitely shaped ear. + +All this was so coquettishly done that the gruff officer could not help +murmuring: + +“By George, she is a superb woman.” + +“Captain, you will go with the sheriff to escort madam home and to +put her in possession of her house. You will afterwards join me at +the central office, and notify Mr. William Dow. This time he was less +shrewd than every one else. His blunder will perhaps cost me dear.” + +Not thinking it prudent to defend his friend, the chief of detectives +gave a military salute, and pointing out the way to Miss Ada, who had +taken Mary’s arm, left the prison with them. + +The crowd on the square was immense; it already knew the error +committed by the law, an error that would have been irreparable, but +for the accident to the executioner, and the young woman was received +with enthusiastic hurrahs. + +If the captain had not kept the most excited ones at a distance by +means of his agents, they certainly would have had to unharness the +horses from the carriage in which he was riding in company with Mr. +Mortimer, Miss Ada and Mary. + +Suspecting that a different reception was waiting for him, Mr. Kelly +hastened to take another direction with Mr. Davis. + +“God be praised,” said the coroner, crossing the threshold of the +Tombs, “I should never have forgiven myself that mistake.” + +“By George,” sighed the chief of police, “I fear that my electors will +never forgive me. Devil take William Dow.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +IN WHICH WILLIE SAUNDERS PASSES FROM DESPAIR TO AMAZEMENT, AND FROM +AMAZEMENT TO ANGER. + + +The news of the return of a woman whose corpse a thousand persons had +seen, caused an emotion difficult to describe. At first the event +seemed so impossible that no one would believe it; and the lawyers were +accused of conniving with the police to save the life of the condemned. +But when the papers published special supplements describing in detail +the scene that had taken place at the Tombs, the most incredulous were +obliged to accept the evidence. The few defenders that James Gobson +had among the people had the best of the matter, and the excitement +increased so rapidly that the minister of justice, the justice of the +criminal court, Mr. Kelly, and the sheriff and coroner thought it +prudent to release the prisoner on bail without further delay. + +For political reasons they set the sum, without further consideration, +at the insignificant figure of one hundred dollars. They knew, +moreover, that if they had asked ten thousand dollars, a hundred +individuals, to gain a little popularity, would have come to offer it +themselves. Having come to this decision, Mr. Mortimer ran at once to +the Tombs to erase the prisoner’s name from the jail register. + +James was about to play a game of chess with the good Mr. Midler. When +the magistrate had apprised him of what had been done, he quietly made +his preparations, went down to the clerk’s office, counted out the one +hundred dollars for the keeper of the prison, Mr. Peters, and after +shaking hands with the worthy Methodist, whose eyes filled with tears, +he went out by the door through which Mr. Kelly and Davis had passed a +few hours before, in order to avoid the crowd. + +“Where are you going to put up?” asked the sheriff, who was +accompanying James Gobson. + +“To the ‘United States,’ where I am unknown, sir,” he answered; “but +I think it polite to devote my first moments of liberty to Miss Ada +Ricard. Although she came near arriving too late, I nevertheless owe +her a visit of thanks.” + +And, hailing a passing hack, James bowed to the sheriff, then entered +the carriage, giving orders to drive to No. 17 East Twenty-third Street. + +At the same moment William Dow reached the central police office. +Learning through public rumor of the return of the drowned woman, he +did not wait for Mr. Kelly to send for him. + +“Well,” said the latter, “what do you think of this foolish event?” + +“I think, Mr. Kelly,” he answered, “that it is a foolish mistake, and +that it is very fortunate that it did not become an irreparable error.” + +“You are, in a measure, the cause of it.” + +“I! Was it I who recognized Miss Ada in the dead woman, whom I had +never seen?” + +“No; but it was you who had James Gobson arrested.” + +“I arrested him only a little sooner, perhaps, than you would have +ordered the arrest yourself. Confess that the body, really being that +of Mrs. Gobson, the guilt of her husband could be doubted by none.” + +“Evidently. The lawyer for the State proved it as plain as daylight. +O’Brien never was so eloquent.” + +“To Mr. Davis especially, who had the examination, the blow is heavy.” + +“That is the least of my troubles. What disturbs me is that my +reputation and position are jeopardized. But was there ever such +a resemblance even in the slightest details? One would think some +political enemy chose the corpse particularly to defeat me. There are +not only the same features, but the tooth is gone and the ear cut as in +the drowned woman. It is enough to make one lose one’s head.” + +“It is certainly inexplicable, and this coincidence of circumstances +confuses the mind.” + +“Here I am with this corpse on my hands. It is not enough to find this +roving woman whom the devil ought to have carried off, and not to +have hung this Gobson, whom the devil would gladly have taken, I am +convinced, but we must now discover the name of the drowned woman and +that of her murderer.” + +“We will find out all that.” + +“If we fail, my dear Dow, I am a lost man.” + +“We shall succeed. Let me study this mystery a little. Meanwhile face +the storm bravely.” And clasping the hand of Mr. Kelly, who hardly +knew what saint to call on, William Dow went home, more anxious than +he appeared. He knew that the chief of police was right, and that +public sentiment, doubly excited, exacted double satisfaction for the +revising of James Gobson’s case and the explanation of the mystery that +surrounded the death of the strange body found near Wharf 43. + +During this time the crowd thronged Twenty-third Street, and the +reporters literally besieged Miss Ada Ricard’s house. She had received +several of her former servants, who, through personal interest or +curiosity, had hastened to visit her at the first news of her return. +After generously rewarding them for their sympathy, she dismissed them, +saying that she would not reorganize her house for several days. Then +the tradesmen came one after the other, protesting the sorrow they had +felt and their present delight at seeing her again; and this procession +had already lasted two hours, when formidable hurrahs were suddenly +heard in the street. + +“Go see what it is, Mary,” said Miss Ada, becoming somewhat pale. + +Mary sprang to the window, and immediately answered laughingly: + +“It is Mr. Gobson, madam, whom the crowd has recognized and is +following with cheers.” + +At the same moment the bell was rung. Mary ran to open the door; and +Gobson, after giving three ringing cheers by way of thanks, crossed +the threshold of the house. But that was not enough for the curious, +and the cry a thousand times repeated of “Miss Ada! Miss Ada!” +immediately rang out. + +“You must show yourself, madam,” said one of the journalists who was +present. + +At the same instant James Gobson entered the parlor and held out his +hand to his former wife. + +“And show yourself with Mr. Gobson,” added the reporter. + +“The gentleman is right,” said the released prisoner, “otherwise these +people might push in your door.” + +Then taking the young woman’s arm, who did not seem much inclined to +exhibit herself thus, he went with her out on to the balcony. There +was then an indescribable enthusiasm, and a racket enough to drive +one crazy. The cries of “Miss Ada, Gobson forever!” were mingled with +complaints and epithets not very flattering to Mr. Kelly. This lasted +half an hour, and the crowd did not become quiet until Gobson made a +sign that he was going to make a speech. + +“Citizens,” he said, in a stentorian voice, “Miss Ada and I thank you +sincerely for this sympathetic demonstration.” + +“Hurrah! hurrah!” repeated the crowd in delirium. James Gobson, after +bowing a last time, gallantly offered his arm to Ada Ricard and entered +the house. + +A person who was no less moved at the reappearance of the drowned woman +than those of whom we have just spoken, was Mr. Robertson, Jr., whom +one of his agents had informed of the event at the very first. He, too, +had been deceived like a mere police officer. His vanity was greatly +piqued, whatever joy his elder brother might manifest, for he, it is +remembered, had been the rival of Mr. Kelly in the last elections. + +The chief of the agency saw in the error of the chief of police the +surety of a brilliant political revenge, and he congratulated himself; +but Mr. Robertson, Jr., who was more of an artist, could not forgive +himself for having made what he, at the time, thought, the skilful +deductions which we have already placed before our readers. What +consoled him a little was, that in order to avoid being called upon as +a witness, and not to compromise his establishment, he had confided in +none, not even in Saunders, who, however, was not in a condition to +understand him, pursued as the unhappy man was by the fixed idea of +being Miss Ada’s murderer. However, thinking it wise to get credit with +the cracker-merchant for having prevented him from denouncing himself, +Mr. Robertson, Jr., resolved to go and see him immediately. + +Mr. Saunders was calmer than when we met him a few weeks before. He had +finally persuaded himself that if Miss Ada had fallen into the water +near Staten Island, that she was not drowned in that spot, but had +been the victim of a crime, of which Colonel Forster, perhaps, might +be guilty. Later, when James Gobson’s guilt was so convincingly shown +at the trial, the worthy merchant did not try to explain how it could +be that Miss Ada had fallen from the colonel’s yacht into the hands +of her former husband; he adopted the conclusions of the State lawyer +and silenced his conscience, to listen only to the voice of his heart, +or to give himself wholly up to the sorrow caused by the death of his +loved one. + +His friends urged him to interest himself in business, but he could not +bring his mind to it; he passed almost all his days at home, drinking, +eating, and sighing. It was at this last occupation that Mr. Robertson, +Jr., surprised him. He had not heard a word about the young woman’s +return. + +“You are a very welcome visitor,” he said to the agent; “tell me how +that infamous murderer went to the gallows.” + +“Dear sir,” answered the young man, “the execution has been postponed +until to-morrow, on account of Meyer having broken his leg, the +accident saved the prisoner.” + +“Saved, how?” repeated Saunders, without understanding. + +“Yes, saved; for Miss Ada Ricard, the victim, has returned.” + +The stout man leaped from his chair and opened his eyes, gasping: + +“Miss Ada returned! Miss Ada!” + +“Yes, Miss Ada,” resumed Robertson, Jr. + +“The devil!” + +“Do be calm. You see I was right to advise you to be silent in regard +to the adventure at Staten Island. We should have uselessly compromised +ourselves. Yes, Miss Ada has returned; she was merely on a voyage.” + +“In company with that d----d Foster, but what of that other, that +other?” + +“The drowned woman. Who she is no person knows.” + +“Have you seen Miss Ada?” + +“No; but one of my agents who was at the Tombs when she arrived +followed her to her door.” + +“Did she return to her house?” + +“Two hours ago, at least.” + +“And Mary, the wretch, did not notify me.” + +“Who is Mary?” + +“Her maid.” + +On saying this, Saunders had taken his hat and run out of the room. + +“Where are you going, pray?” asked Mr. Robertson, running after him. + +“Where am I going? Why, to Miss Ada’s house.” + +“I wish to tell the wretch what I think of her conduct.” + +“Or to fall at her feet.” + +The unhappy cracker-merchant suddenly stopped still. The secret agent +had aimed a true blow. It was more love than anger that led the +inflammable Yankee to the unfaithful one. + +“Well, yes,” he said, “I still love her; and I wish to see her,” he +added, with a deep sigh. + +“Then I will accompany you,” proposed Robertson. + +“If you wish.” + +The young man was delighted to profit by the opportunity to see alive +the woman whom he had known only through the corpse at the morgue. +They sprang into a carriage, and soon reached No. 17 East Twenty-third +Street. + +Satisfied by the speech James Gobson had made them, the crowd had +dispersed, and only a few groups remained around the house. + +Mr. Robertson helped his companion to alight, and rang the bell. Mary +answered it, but at the sight of Saunders’ flushed face, and not +feeling very easy in her conscience, she uttered a cry and ran away +to warn her mistress. The latter was having a private talk with James +Gobson. + +“Bah! receive him,” advised the former husband, complacently, “and try +to get rid of him if you can, and especially if you wish to do so.” + +The young woman left her room, closed the door behind her and passed +into the parlor. + +It was time. The stout Saunders, who had climbed the stairs with an +agility quite juvenile, was crossing the threshold of this room. + +“Ada, my dear Ada!” he cried, rushing toward her. + +The poor man had forgotten his anger, and remembered only his love. +With arms held out, he thought only of forgiving. But, to his +amazement, the ungrateful woman withdrew from his embrace, and merely +held out her hand, saying: + +“My dear Saunders, you, too, thought me dead, and I will never forgive +you such an error. However, I am none the less delighted to see you.” + +All this was said in so calm and chilling a tone that the unfortunate +cracker-merchant, already exhausted and breathless, felt his limbs give +way beneath him. Fortunately, Mr. Robertson supported him to a lounge, +on which he sank heavily, with his great, tearful eyes fixed on her for +whom he had wept so much, and who had received him thus, he was really +pitiable to behold. + +Miss Ada seated herself near him and took his hand. + +“Come, my good Saunders,” she said, “have a little courage. I still +love you very much, but I am going to leave New York.” + +“To return with Colonel Forster. Oh! I will kill him,” murmured the +merchant. + +“With Colonel Forster? I do not know what you mean.” + +“Is it possible? But, Robertson, tell her that we know all.” + +“I know nothing,” answered the agent, who wished merely to play the +part of a looker-on in this call. + +It was too much for the unhappy man, whose head was not yet steady. +Ada repulsed him, and his friend Robertson denied him. Exasperated and +furious, he suddenly arose, and casting a scornful look at the young +woman, he left the parlor with something like an air of dignity. + +Robertson, Jr., who had nothing more to do in the house, bowed to Miss +Ada and followed Saunders, to whom he said, when he had joined him on +the door-step: + +“Pardon me for having given you the lie, dear sir; but it is useless +for us to both appear in the revision which is to be opened. Do you +wish any advice? Remain quietly at home and forget Miss Ada; she is not +worthy of your love.” + +“She is a cheat,” he gasped, in the manner of a peroration, and as if +speaking to himself more than to his companion. + +A few moments later he saw William Dow on the threshold of his door, +and he gave a cry of joy. “Oh, my only friend,” he said to the +detective, falling almost into his arms. “She is living; I have just +come from her house. What a wretch she is! You must do me the service +to find that cursed Colonel Forster; I wish to fight with him. If he +refuses, I will kill him.” + +“Be calm, dear Mr. Saunders,” answered William, helping the poor man to +ascend his steps. “In the first place I will not go to Forster, because +he is not in New York. If it is he who carried off Miss Ada, she did +not return with him. We know that his yacht is now in the harbor, and +that she returned to the city by the Harlem Railroad. You understand +that Mr. Edward Forster, who must now be acquainted with all this +scandal, does not care to give explanations that are compromising to +him.” + +“That is true, dear Mr. Dow,” murmured Saunders, sinking back in an +arm-chair, for while exchanging these words, the friends had reached +the merchant’s parlor. “Besides, of what use would it be for you, a +peaceful citizen, to fight with that officer?” continued the detective. +“A duel would not restore you Miss Ada; and that thief of a Robertson, +after taking I don’t know how many thousand dollars from me for absurd +information, seems to think this girl’s conduct very natural.” + +“What, Robertson; one of the firm of the agency of Robertson & Co.?” + +“Yes, Robertson, Jr. Upon my word, it is even worse. I would like to +tell you all that passed between him and me.” + +And the good Saunders, whose heart overflowed, told William Dow all +that our readers know about the secret agent; then he concluded by +giving him the famous report that had caused the expedition to Staten +Island. + +“All this is truly extraordinary,” said the police officer, shaking his +head, after having carefully read the document. “Trust this report to +me.” + +“Willingly,” answered the cracker-merchant. “What are you going to do +with it?” + +“Oh, nothing against the Robertson agency, but it contains details +which may be useful to me some day or another. I would like also a +photograph of Miss Ada. You must have one.” + +“Only one, dear sir; here it is. And see, here is the letter that +unhappy woman wrote to her maid to tell her not to be anxious in her +absence. The wretch!” + +The poor lover had drawn from his pocket-book the photograph of the +woman, which was inclosed in the note which Mary had given him a few +moments after having received it from her mistress. He handed the whole +to the detective, giving a sigh. + +William Dow passed more than an hour with Saunders, and when he left +it was with a smile on his lips, and he said, to the amazement of +the simple Mr. Saunders: “Have patience; I think I am beginning to +understand.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +WILLIAM DOW’S PROMISE. + + +In order to quiet public opinion by giving it one of the two sources +of satisfaction it demanded, the district attorney urged the higher +criminal court to hasten the revision of the case of James Gobson. + +When the first examination was made, Mr. Mortimer and Davis had heard +certain rumors concerning the role which Colonel Forster must have +played in the kidnapping of Ada Ricard, but they paid little attention +to them, because it had not been proved that the rumor had a serious +basis, afterwards because the officer was too important a man to be +compromised on simple suspicion. + +Later, when the corpse was discovered, Dr. O’Neel had assigned for the +death of the victim a date after the departure of the yacht which, to +every one, had set off the day after the ball given at No. 17 East +Twenty-third Street. Then came the arrest of Gobson and the proving +of his guilt, and the magistrates had congratulated themselves on +the perspicacity which they had shown in not pronouncing the name of +Colonel Forster, whom some political enemies would have been delighted +to see figure in this scandalous and dramatic affair. But after that +had passed and the return of Miss Ada, which had preceded by only a few +days the entrance of the Gleam into New York harbor, the complicity of +the gallant officer in the kidnapping of the pretty New Yorker was no +longer to be doubted. + +Now, although neither the lawyers nor the police could see anything +to object to in this act, since Miss Ada did not complain, Mr. +Mortimer and Davis thought they could not do otherwise than question +the colonel, in order to obtain from him a declaration of a nature +to enlighten the magistrates charged with the revision of the case +relating to the employment of the time of the woman whose absence had +caused this bad judicial error. What might be worse would be Colonel +Forster’s refusal to say anything. In that case it would be necessary +to do without him, and they could not count on Ada Ricard. + +Having been questioned twice, she answered: + +“I cannot tell you how I passed my time without compromising some +one to whom I have promised silence. If that person releases me from +my promise I will speak, although I do not see wherein it concerns +justice. I am not dead, for here I am, and that seems to me the +essential point.” + +Mr. Mortimer and Davis knew so well that the young woman was in +the right that they used every art before asking Mr. Forster for +information; but to their great delight, from their first overtures on +this subject the officer said to them: + +“You understand, gentlemen, that I am very anxious not to figure in any +way in these debates to which I am absolutely a stranger, excepting +by the single fact of the error committed; but as I am of the opinion +that none should refuse his aid to the laws of his country, I am ready +to tell you everything, provided you give me your word of honor not to +speak my name, to give publicity either to myself or the adventure.” + +The sheriff and the coroner readily promised all that the colonel +wished, and the day after Mr. Forster went to the house of Mr. Douglas, +the judge of the Criminal Court. + +They found Mr. Kelly, Mortimer and Davis there, and when these +magistrates thanked him for his readiness to place himself at their +disposal, when they pledged themselves again to the most entire +discretion, they introduced Miss Ada Ricard, who had been invited to +the rendezvous. + +The elegant officer hastened to hold out his hand to the young woman, +and she answered his greeting with a charming smile. + +Colonel Forster then gave a frank account of the manner in which the +proposal to carry off Miss Ada had been made to him by a man he did not +know, and the subsequent events of which the reader is already informed. + +The officers thanked him warmly, and the reunion ended. + +In less than a fortnight after this the Criminal Court met for the +revision of James Gobson’s case, who lived as he told Mr. Mortimer, at +the United States Hotel, but who saw the woman who bore his name almost +every day. + +One would have said that the grave events in which the divorced couple +had found themselves, had lessened their former grievance; that they +had forgiven each other their mutual wrongs, and that the woman forgot +the brutalities of the husband as the husband forgot the unfaithfulness +of the wife. + +It was known that the latter was to appear before the court to defend +James against the suspicions which had led to his arrest and his +sentence, and this prospect gave the new arguments a doubly piquant +attraction. + +Therefore, on the day of the hearing, the court-room was filled at an +early hour. At the entrance of James Gobson a round of applause rang +through the room, and when Miss Ada Ricard appeared on the arm of the +lawyer, Macready, the crowd gave a true ovation. + +The court opened, and the lawyer for the State presented the case, +explaining with great clearness and perfect loyalty, how the lawyers +had been led to commit an error, which, fortunately, was reparable. He +concluded by asking the jury to render a negative verdict, and to the +court to acquit and reinstate the man so unjustly condemned. + +Matters would have ended thus, but that would not have answered for +the lawyer Macready. It was too fine an occasion for criticising the +police, the criminal examination, the law and justice. For the defender +of James Gobson this case might be the turning-point in his political +career. He must profit by it. + +In the first place, as had been agreed, the young woman arose, and +spoke in a voice sufficiently moved by emotion: + +“Gentlemen, I deeply regret that the law should have sought, in my +conjugal life with Mr. Gobson, troubles of a nature to arouse its +suspicions. If, for reasons I need not recall, I had to ask for +divorce, I must protest against the character which the requirements +of the examination gave to him whose wife I was. Mr. Gobson has never +ceased to be an honest man, and it would have been easy, by addressing +those who formerly knew him, to gain the conviction that he could not +have become a thief or assassin. For my part, while waiting for the +just reparation to which he is entitled, I ask pardon for having been +the involuntary cause of the misfortune that has befallen him.” + +One can easily imagine the shouts of applause with which this little +speech was received by the audience. Mr. Macready let it subside +somewhat, then he took the stand. + +We will not give his address. It was crushing to Mr. Mortimer and +Davis, and especially to the chief of police. + +Mr. Kelly was a political enemy and the defender was pitiless. He +specified him to the electors as unworthy of being elected, and +he concluded by saying what besides was absolutely true, from the +standpoint of the law, that the magistrates, who had come near hanging +an innocent person, should esteem themselves very happy that James +Gobson did not demand great damages. + +This terrible harangue had no less success than Miss Ada’s few words, +and in less than a quarter of an hour the jury, having given a +unanimous negative verdict, the court acquitted and reinstated James +Gobson. + +As expected, this result excited an enthusiasm that amounted to +delirium when the young woman, with a smile on her lips, was seen to +approach her former husband and hold out her hand to him in a friendly +manner. + +Among the spectators were William Dow and Captain Young, hidden behind +the curious privileged ones who had found a place within the railing. + +“Well, Mr. Dow,” said the chief of the detectives to his friend, when +all was concluded, “it is done, and I am delighted. This affair weighed +on my conscience somewhat.” + +“My dear Young,” answered William, pointing to James Gobson and Miss +Ada, who were leaving by the magistrate’s door in order to avoid +the crowd. “I think that those two have simply come here to mock at +justice.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“Nothing that you can understand this moment.” + +The zealous detective, without adding a word, parted from the captain, +who irreverently shrugged his shoulders. + +It was evident that through the judicial error he had caused, one +mysterious character now seemed hardly worthy the admiration of the +terrible Young. + +But the one most displeased with William Dow was the stout Kelly, and +he received him quite coldly when he presented himself at his office a +week later. + +“It is vain for you to excuse yourself,” he said to him in a gruff +tone, “and to give me the most favorable explanations; it is none the +less true that, politically, I am a lost man. If we could discover the +identity of the drowned woman, I could recover myself; but we shall do +nothing of the sort, nothing! That imbecile of a Young is arresting +twenty drunkards and as many pickpockets by way of compensation. It is +enough to drive one out of his mind. I can only send in my resignation.” + +“Be careful how you do that, dear Mr. Kelly,” said our hero, after +leaving the chief of the police to vent his bile. “You know that Gobson +and Ada Ricard left New York this morning.” + +“May Satan carry them off and they may go hang elsewhere.” + +“When will the elections take place?” + +“In four months.” + +“Can you give a leave of absence of a fortnight to Captain Young?” + +“Indeed, yes, for all the good he does in New York. Where are you going +to send him?” + +“I shall send him nowhere. I am going to take him with me.” + +“Where?” + +“Ah! that is my secret.” + +“If you only had one to help me get back my electors.” + +“By how many votes have you been nominated?” + +“By forty-five thousand.” + +“Well, my dear Mr. Kelly, in four months you will have ten thousand +votes more. It is I who promise you. I am so far certain of it that I +give you my word.” + +“By George! tell me a little what you----” + +“Not a word, if you will allow me. Give Young his leave of absence +and count on me. All that I ask of you are very strong letters of +recommendation to your police friends in Boston, Buffalo, Jefferson, +and San Francisco.” + +“This evening the letters will be at your house.” + +The chief of police escorted William Dow to the office door. + +“This fellow is capable of doing what he says,” murmured Kelly, +reseating himself in his arm-chair, “only why does he take the captain +with him, as he is good for nothing? After all it does not matter. If +he keeps his promise, and in four months I beat that Robertson, I shall +ask no more of him, not even what has become of that brute of a Young, +if he does not bring him back with him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +WILLIAM DOW’S REVENGE--SEEKING THE UNKNOWN. + + +Almost a fortnight had elapsed, and New York had forgotten James +Gobson’s case, although the identity of the drowned woman had not +been discovered, and her assassin was unknown, when, one evening the +hotel stage brought to the Union Hotel, at Jefferson City, Mo., three +travelers, whom fate seemed to have united for pleasure by the love of +contrasts. + +One was of medium height, of an intelligent countenance, and +distinguished bearing. The other was tall, with a bony frame and surly +expression. The third was stout, florid, with a good, placid face and +innocent look. Our readers have already recognized William Dow, Captain +Young, and poor Saunders. + +These three travelers had left New York only three days before, under +the following circumstances: One morning William Dow paid an unexpected +visit to the cracker-merchant, for the latter had not seen him since +James Gobson was reinstated. + +“Is it you, Mr. Dow?” cried Saunders; “then you haven’t quite forgotten +me?” + +“I have scarcely thought of you, on the contrary,” answered the +detective, clasping the hand of the merchant. + +“Where were you?” + +“I have been to Buffalo.” + +“To Buffalo?” + +“Yes, the city where Miss Ada and her husband used to live before the +divorce. I will tell you later about this little trip. At present there +is something else to think of. Do you still wish to avenge yourself +upon the man who carried off Miss Ada?” + +“Certainly. I wish also to be avenged on the cheat herself.” + +All the anger, and perhaps all the love of the susceptible Yankee +awoke at the memory of the woman, and the indifferent way in which she +forsook him. + +“Then,” resumed Dow, “regulate your business for an absence of about +ten days. I will take you with me.” + +Saunders had not asked his friend where he wished to take him; he +simply went, valise in hand and a pocket-book stuffed with bank notes, +to meet him at the Washington depot. It was the same with Young. +Mr. Kelly having notified the chief of detectives that he might go +with William Dow when the latter desired, the terrible captain had +not ventured a remark. When he received the order to meet him at the +station he merely announced his departure at the central office, and he +manifested but little surprise when he met Mr. Saunders at the railway +station. + +During the journey from New York to Washington, from Washington to St. +Louis, and from St. Louis to Jefferson, Saunders had ventured several +questions from time to time, but William Dow was non-committal. The +only information which he gave Ada’s former lover was that they should +stop at Jefferson City. The worthy merchant sighed twice as often after +their arrival in the first place, because he liked his ease and the +journey had fatigued him extremely, and next, because he hoped his +friend Dow would not delay much longer in telling him the object of his +journey. Therefore, he questioned him. + +“Dear sir,” answered our hero, “I needed to have two aids and two +witnesses with me in what I am undertaking. You and Young, of all +others, were most suitable, because of your honorable character and +energy.” + +Flattered by this praise, to his share of which he was entitled, +Saunders smilingly said: + +“No doubt; but aids in what way--witnesses of what?” + +“I do not know yet, as everything will depend on circumstances. We have +reached only the first stopping-place in our journey.” + +“The first. Where are we going, then?” + +“I cannot tell you now.” + +“I suppose, however, that we shall not make the tour of the world?” + +“Oh! not quite.” + +“What, not quite; but I do not wish to make even a part of it.” + +The stout man said this with so disturbed a face and with such a +comical accent of fear that William Dow, who was always grave, could +not help smiling as he answered: + +“Calm yourself; after to-morrow you will beg me not to interrupt our +journey. Let us dine.” + +Somewhat reassured, but not convinced, Saunders then decided to go to +dinner, and did such justice to it that two hours afterwards he went to +his bed and instantly forgot that he was three hundred miles from New +York, trying to solve a problem to which he had not the least clue. + +The next morning after an excellent night, and as he was about to +join Dow and Young, they were announced by one of the hotel servants, +and ascended to his room. Before they had closed the door the Yankee +thought he saw half a dozen individuals who had stopped in the hall +following his companions. He went to inquire what they wanted, but he +had not time, for William Dow immediately said to him, clasping his +hand: + +“Dear sir, will you allow us to receive some visitors in your room?” + +“Certainly,” answered the cracker-merchant, who had wisely decided to +ask no explanation of his mysterious friend. The latter had seated +himself at a table and drawn a large packet from his pocket, in which +were papers and photographs. + +“Are you acquainted with this man,” he asked Saunders, handing him one +of the pictures. + +“No,” said the merchant, after a moment’s examination. + +“And you, my good Young?” + +“Why!” cried the chief of detectives, “it is James Gobson.” + +“His very self, Miss Ada’s husband.” + +He snatched the photograph from the hands of the detective, and with +furious looks devoured the man whom his jealousy pictured at the feet +of the woman. + +“Captain,” cried William Dow, “do me the kindness to introduce each of +the men who are there in the hall. Begin with Thomas Bernett.” + +“Thomas Bernett,” called Young, in his grandest, most commanding tone, +as he opened the door. + +The man who bore this name hastened to appear. It was the porter of the +Union Hotel. + +“Were you in this establishment January last?” asked Dow. + +“I have been interpreter and porter here for a year.” + +“Then you have to do with all the travelers?” + +“With all.” + +“Do you remember this one?” + +He showed him James Gobson’s photograph. + +“Perfectly,” he affirmed; “as well as I can recollect I saw this +gentleman in the first days of January. He remained here three or four +days.” + +“Thanks. The next, Tom Byng.” Tom Byng was the hotel stage-driver. +He as well as his comrade, immediately recognized Gobson in the +photograph, as a traveler whom he had driven to the Northern depot +early in January. Then came the butler, the steward, the barber of the +hotel, and a gunsmith, who all recognized in James Gobson’s picture +the features of an individual with whom they had had various relations +at the time about which they were questioned. + +“My dear Mr. Saunders,” said the detective, after making a note of this +information, “do me the kindness to give ten dollars to each of these +men.” + +Without venturing a remark, the cracker-merchant paid the sum and +waited patiently until his fifty dollars had departed, to have a clue +to the puzzle. + +“You do not understand?” asked William Dow. + +“No,” he answered frankly. + +“Nor you, Young?” + +“Not any,” said the captain with a smile, which he tried to render +mocking. + +“Well, my dear friends, I ask you only to exactly recall the words +you have just heard. James Gobson was here at Jefferson City in the +beginning of January, a few days before Miss Ada was carried off and +the discovery of this drowned woman, whose name is still unknown. From +that city the same person set out for Omaha; the stage-driver remembers +it perfectly.” + +“From which you conclude,” ventured the sceptical Young. + +“I do not conclude, I state; and this first point being assured, I have +decided to leave for Omaha.” + +“For Omaha!” cried Saunders. + +“Where, I hope, we shall find some trail more interesting still. The +train leaves at noon; we shall reach there early to-morrow.” + +While saying this, William Dow had carefully put James Gobson’s picture +back in his pocket-book and had arisen. Mr. Saunders, having no +objections to make, looked at the captain, and the latter shrugged his +shoulders. + +Not understanding his friend’s plans, the terrible but not very +intelligent chief of detectives thought it wisest to affect a kind of +ironical condescension toward him; but as he obeyed no less blindly +than Saunders, they all three took the cars after breakfast. + +The next morning they reached Omaha, the last stopping-place at that +time for the cars, which soon went to the West, across the desert and +the Rocky Mountains to San Francisco. + +When Saunders was left alone by William Dow, under the piazza of the +hotel at Omaha, he was asking himself what his friend had come to seek +in this forsaken country, when he espied him crossing the garden of the +establishment in company with Young and another strangely-accoutred +being. One would have thought it one of Fenimore Cooper’s or Captain +Mayne Reid’s heroes. He wore strong boots, into which were tucked brown +ribbed velvet breeches, fastened by a broad leather belt, which seemed +to be his arsenal and money-safe, for it was adorned by two revolvers +and a long knife, and its thickness revealed the presence of a +respectable quantity of change. His partly-opened hunting-jacket showed +a red woolen shirt and his hairy bosom. He had on a soft felt hat with +broad brim, and proudly carried in a shoulder strap a double-shot +carbine. As well as his thick tawny beard enabled one to judge, the +man must be about forty years old. His energy and vigor were plainly +evident in his looks, voice, and broad shoulders. + +While the cracker-merchant was examining him, the stranger, still +talking to his companions, had reached the piazza. + +“Mr. Saunders,” said the detective, when the two men joined him, “allow +me to present to you John Butler, the bravest trapper on the shores of +the Missouri.” + +The good man rose politely from the lolling-chair on which he had been +stretched out, and gave Mr Dow so questioning a look that the latter +knew that he was imploring an explanation. Therefore, beckoning the +trapper and Young to sit down, and taking a chair himself, he said: + +“This is a nice place for a chat. Mr. Butler, dear sir, knows better +than even an Indian all the tribes who occupy the reserves to the +north of Omaha, and the chiefs of the Dakota Sioux are his particular +friends. As it is with these worthy men that we have to do, I have +begged him to serve as a guide.” + +Saunders, who had again stretched himself out in his arm-chair, sprang +out of it in alarm. + +“To the Sioux!” he repeated. And, with a very expressive gesture, he +described around his head the circular motion in the operation of +scalping. + +“Have no fear, sir,” said John Butler, smiling. “With me there is no +danger of that kind to run.” + +The peaceful Yankee, who looked with eyes of terror at the murderous +outfit of the trapper, seemed so plainly to say that it was not the +Indians alone of whom he was afraid, that Captain Young himself burst +out laughing. John Butler, without being offended at his suspicions, +resumed with the same calmness: + +“No, sir; you will have nothing to dread; we are at this moment at +peace with the Indians of the plains. The chiefs who went to Washington +in January have returned satisfied; one can cross Dakota and Iowa +without the shadow of danger.” + +“You hear, do you not, dear Mr. Saunders,” observed Dow, “the chiefs +who went to Washington in the month of January? Retain these words in +your memory--in the month of January.” + +“The devil, yes. I hear well enough,” answered Miss Ada’s former lover, +“but I do not understand what you are going to do among the Sioux.” + +“That is my secret. Do you refuse to accompany me?” + +“Heavens, no. You would say I was afraid. But if I understand a +confounded word what it all means, I am willing to be hung some day.” + +“You are not the one who will be hung.” + +“I hope not. But who will be?” + +“James Gobson.” + +“James Gobson! Then Miss Ada will be free again. Do you know, I am +certain that it was terror alone that united her to that wretch! James +Gobson hung! But why, in order to bring this about, must we go among +the Indians?” + +“Because there the rope which I destine for him will be found.” + +“Stop; I prefer not to question you any more, for you will answer me in +a manner to make me lose my head again. Well, so be it. Let’s be off +for the prairie. Ah! if ever any one had told me that I should become a +trapper! When shall we start?” + +“To-morrow, at daybreak,” answered Butler, to whom this question was +particularly addressed. “The cars will leave us at Sioux City the same +evening. We shall find horses there, and in a few hours we shall be on +the reserves.” + +“To-morrow, then,” said Saunders, with a heroic gesture. + +“To-morrow, gentlemen,” repeated the trapper, “I will wake you.” +And throwing his carbine over his shoulder he bowed to his future +companions and left the piazza. + +“Mr. Dow,” said Mr. Saunders, pointing to the adventurer who was +crossing the garden, “can you depend upon that fellow?” + +“My dear friend,” answered the detective, “I have made every inquiry +about Butler. He has been traveling over this prairie ten years, +hunting and trading, often serving as an intermediary between the +commanders of forts and the Indians, and never has any one had to +complain of him. Besides, what interest would it be to him to betray +us? I shall give him one hundred dollars to-morrow when we arrive at +Sioux City, one hundred dollars more when we return, and even another +hundred dollars still if the information he furnishes me is correct +and if I bring back what I am going to seek. Besides, as everything +makes me suppose that Butler has some peccadillo on his conscience +which has led him to this adventurous life, I have promised to arrange +matters for him on my return to New York. He has my word and that of +Young.” + +“Positively,” answered the captain. “But what need have we of all these +precautions? Are we three not equal to all the adventurers and Indians +on the plains?” + +This proud declaration of the intrepid captain cut short any last words +which poor Saunders would have liked to venture. Putting a good face on +a bad matter, he stood up straight and said to the chief of detectives, +in a deliberate tone: + +“Very well; I still do not understand why we are going in that +direction, but I am with you; when I see Miss Ada again, I wish her to +know what I have done for her.” + +The next day the three travelers, accompanied by John Butler, took the +first train, and reached in a few hours Sioux City, one of the railway +stations which unites Omaha with Chicago. After passing the night +there, the following day at sunrise they left it to take the route +along the Sioux River as far as Fort Dakota. William Dow had a letter +of recommendation to the commander of this advanced post. + +The four excursionists mounted excellent horses, and Saunders looked +superb in his war-like attire. Imitating the trapper, he had made a +veritable arsenal of his belt, and he often looked affectionately +at the carbine attached to his saddle. One would have thought he was +setting out for the conquest of an enemy’s territory. But toward the +middle of the morning, as the sun became higher and burning, his fine +ardor began to decrease, and Dow regulated it by saying: + +“If we keep up this gait our horses will be foundered before we have +gone our twenty-five miles.” + +“Besides,” observed Butler, “we cannot reach the fort to-day. The +wisest thing is not to hurry, but to favor our horses. We shall have +need enough of them on the prairie.” + +These few words restored the good city man to calmness, and the +little party pursued their course at a more moderate gait. Toward +noon they had halted on the banks of the river in the shade of some +sickly-looking trees, and Saunders ate with a very good appetite his +share of the provisions with which the trapper had not failed to +provide himself; then, after a few hours’ rest, our travelers started +on their way again. + +That evening they enjoyed, by means of their dollars, the hospitality +of a German farm, and the next day, after fording one of the arms of +the Sioux River, they finally reached Fort Dakota. + +Captain Semmas, who commanded this military position, received +William Dow with marvelous cordiality, and as the fort was admirably +provisioned, Saunders, whom the length of the route had somewhat +sobered, immediately recovered his warlike mood. The next morning, he +had already been equipped for a long time, when Butler gave the signal +for departure. An hour later, after pushing on straight to the north, +our heroes were on the prairie. They now had for the horizon around +them an immense plain without an undulation in the ground, of a dull +green coloring, and gloomy enough to drive one to despair. + +Only a few bushes broke the monotony here and there, rising above the +thick grass, in which the horses sank to their knees. Disdaining in +spite of the fog the paths made by the cattle, the trapper had led his +companions across the plain, having for his guide in this complete +desert only landmarks known to himself alone. + +“Master John,” cried Saunders all at once, after having kept silence as +well as his impatience would permit, “have we much more of this foolish +ride?” + +“Two hours, at least,” answered Butler, who was preceding him; “and +I advise you to keep in my tracks, for if you go to one side or the +other you might meet with some bog, in which you and your horse would +disappear.” + +“My God!” cried the poor man, frightened at this new danger which he +had been running without knowing it ever since he entered the prairie. +“You ought to have warned me sooner.” + +“Come, be calm, dear Mr. Saunders,” advised William Dow. “Listen to the +counsels of this excellent fellow, and take the captain and me for your +models.” + +“This excellent fellow! That is very well for you to say, Mr. Dow, +for you know where you are going; you have your plan, but I don’t know +anything about it. As for Mr. Young, it is in his profession to risk +his skin, but it is not in mine.” + +We do not know that the chief of detectives held this opinion, for the +journey did not make him any more talkative than usual. Trimly seated +in his saddle, with a cigar in his mouth, he concerned himself neither +about his companions nor the route, nor the end of the excursion. +Mr. Kelly had told him: “You will accompany Mr. William Dow,” and he +accompanied William Dow. He would have accompanied him in the same +way as far as the Pacific. The captain, therefore, did not answer the +irascible cracker-merchant. + +However, at the end of an hour the appearance of the prairie gradually +changed. The grass was less thick, and the riders could distinguish +before them a group of tall trees, which were like an oasis in the +midst of this desert of grass. Soon they perceived cultivated fields, +cattle, and every sign, in short, of a village not far away, probably, +behind a little hill about a hundred yards off. + +Saunders’ face became joyful again, and he was already dashing on when +Butler stopped him brusquely. A man who had sprung up from the tall +grass with a carbine on his shoulder seemed to wish to prevent the +travelers from going further. + +At this threatening apparition, the prudent merchant suddenly +remembered that the trapper had advised him to follow in his traces, +and he fell into file again. + +Butler sprang to the ground, and approached the Indian, who was only +one of those sentinels by whom the Sioux villages are surrounded within +a large circle, and he said a few words to him which caused him to +immediately change his attitude. Putting back his weapon, he held out +his hand to the adventurer. + +The latter then mounted his horse, and the little band, escorted by the +Sioux, went at a walk through the fields of maize toward the village, +whose first tents they soon saw. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +A SOUVENIR OF LOVE. + + +Saunders had heard much about these Indian villages composed of tents +made of buffalo skins, and he was not quite ignorant that there still +existed nomadic tribes whom civilization drove into the desert; but all +this had interested him but little, and now he, a peaceful merchant, +a positive man of a practical mind, found himself transported into +the midst of this strange world. Therefore, he examined with as +much amazement as curiosity these primitive dwellings and strangely +accoutred beings who were grouped together, thirty in number at least, +before their tents, to receive the travelers. The latter alighted and +advanced toward the Sioux. Butler, who walked ahead, approached the +chief and made a little speech, which seemed to meet with general +approbation. The Sioux answered him in a few guttural words, and the +trapper, turning to his companions, said to them: + +“Jimin, the Swift Deer, the chief of this village, gives a welcome to +his brothers from the East--the pale-faces--and offers them hospitality +beneath his tent.” + +Then Butler added, ceasing to translate the words of the Sioux, but +using his own language: + +“I told Jimin that you were rich fur-merchants intending to open a +shop at Omaha, and that your only object in coming to the prairie is +to establish direct communication with its tribes in order to buy +their skins on more favorable terms than those of the agents of the +companies.” + +“That is very ingenious,” answered William Dow. + +“Good! I am now a fur-trader,” murmured Saunders. + +As for Young, his bravery was humiliated at this new social situation, +and without departing from his accustomed speechlessness, he protested +by twisting his long moustache with a gesture more warlike than ever. + +However, the presentation being over, the excursionists proceeded +to the tent of the chief through the entire population of the +village--men, women, and children--who thronged curiously around them. + +Jimin’s tent resembled all the others excepting that it was a little +larger. It was made of buffalo skins, rudely sewn together, and divided +into two parts; one was occupied by the family of the chief, the other +was intended for official receptions, when Jimin wanted his warriors in +council. It was in the second part of the tent that the warriors were +introduced. + +Stout mats of braided maize carpeted the floor; the walls were adorned +with weapons and fishing tackle; the only seats were boxes and piles of +skins so badly dressed that they exhaled a detestable odor. + +Saunders, like his companions, had to make the best of these primitive +lounges; he sat down, or rather threw himself down, on one of them; +milk and maize cakes were at once served, then the chief lighted his +long pipe, and after smoking in silence for a full quarter of an hour, +he entered into conversation with Butler, which the latter, in a +measure, translated. + +Jimin inquired about the disposition of the government towards the +Indians, about the price of provisions, and he bitterly complained of +the agents of the great fur companies, who in exchange for the hunting +products of the Indians gave them only worthless gunpowder, wretched +weapons, adulterated brandy, and execrable tobacco. + +The trapper assured him, in the names of his friends, that his just +grievances should be conveyed to the President of the United States, +who would not fail to inquire into it, and he advised him to go himself +to Washington to make out his complaints. + +“Of what use would that be?” resumed Jimin, shaking his head, sadly. +“Our brothers, the pale-faces, promise, but forget their promises. Four +moons ago I went with ten of my warriors to Washington; they swore to +us that our claims should be made right, but nothing has been changed. +The Great Father forsakes his children.” + +“Ask him,” said William Dow to Butler, having listened attentively to +every word of the chief, “if he did not return full of wonder at the +splendor of our cities?” + +“The Indian,” answered Jimin, “sees nothing when he goes to your +cities; his eyes, like his heart, bound over space to find his wigwam +and prairies again. I should not have remained more than one day at +Washington if I had not been waiting for two of my warriors who had +wandered away.” + +“Which ones?” asked Butler, at the detective’s entreaty. + +“Washah and Winka,” said the chief, pointing to the two Sioux crouched +at his right. “One of your people, whose wife had been carried off, +asked them for the help of their arms. He knew that the Indian, +oppressed himself, is always at the service of him who suffers. The +pale-face was not ungrateful, and with the gold he gave to Washah and +Winka they bought weapons superior to those the agents sell us so dear.” + +Each of the two warriors, in fact, had a solid double-barreled carbine +by his side. + +As the trapper translated Jimin’s last words, William Dow’s face +expressed a more and more lively satisfaction. + +“Dear sir,” he said, addressing Saunders when the interpreter had +finished, and pointing to the two Sioux, whose eyes shone with pride, +“do you not recognize two of your guests?” + +“Hey, what?” answered the merchant, whom fatigue, the smoke, the +odor of the skins, and especially the indifference he felt in the +conversation had half lulled to sleep. + +“Those two Indians there at the right of the chief.” + +“Yes; well, what of them?” + +“Don’t you recognize them?” + +“Where the devil do you suppose I have ever seen those monkeys?” + +“At Miss Ada Ricard’s.” + +“At Ada’s! Come, now, dear Mr. Dow, ah, ha!” + +Poor Saunders’ exclamation expressing that he was beginning to +understand, his friend took pity on his brain, already so shattered, +and continued: + +“Yes, at Miss Ada Ricard’s, at the ball. Those Indians are two of the +three masks who carried her off.” + +“But the third?” + +“He was her husband.” + +“James Gobson?” + +“His very self; there is no doubt of it.” + +“The man who carried her off took her to Colonel Forster; it cannot be +her husband, for he would have kept her for himself.” + +“You go too fast; we shall come to that later. Meanwhile do you wish to +assure yourself in regard to the part those two men played that famous +night?” + +“I believe I do; but tell me quietly, for I swear to you I do not see +through it at all.” + +The good man, indeed, holding his head in his hands, looked imploringly +with his great eyes at Captain Young, who, feeling very much interested +in this unexpected scene, did not take his eyes off of William Dow. + +“Your two valiant warriors,” said the latter to Jimin, through the +medium of Butler, “have this day rendered a great service to one of my +friends. Knowing that I was coming to the reserves, he charged me to +thank them again. Do they remember his features?” + +“The Indian never forgets the man from whom he receives a benefit,” +answered the chief, sententiously. + +The two Sioux, by way of affirmation, clicked their carbines. + +The detective had taken from his pocket-book the photograph of James +Gobson, which he handed to Jimin, who passed it on to his warriors. + +The latter immediately exclaimed: “Yes, it is really the pale-face +whose wife we helped carry away from an infamous man.” + +At this epithet, which Saunders had to take to himself, he looked so +completely astounded that his two companions and Butler himself could +hardly keep serious. + +Dow, who had put the picture of Miss Ada’s husband back in his +pocket, arose, and after saying to Jimin that they thanked him for +his hospitality, but that they could not enjoy it any longer, as they +wished to return to Fort Dakota that evening, he begged him to accept +as a souvenir one of his revolvers. + +The chief took the weapon which his guest held out, and not being able +to conceal the pleasure which the gift caused him, he thanked him in a +rigmarole of metaphors, quite worthy of the Indian of the prairies. + +“Look there behind you,” just then said Captain Young to William Dow, +“on the arm of that young girl.” + +He pointed to quite a pretty Indian, crouching with both hands on her +knees. On her left wrist shone a large gold bracelet. + +“Is it the wife or daughter of either of you?” the detective asked +Washah and Winka. + +“It is my wife,” answered the latter. + +“Will you allow me to look at the gold bracelet she wears on her arm?” + +Visibly embarrassed, the warrior spoke a few words, and the Indian +woman, raising her great black eyes to the stranger, allowed him to +take her hand. + +“Look, Mr. Saunders,” said William, showing him the bracelet; “see if +you do not recognize this.” + +The stout man leaned over the young woman and exclaimed: + +“Why, it is one of Miss Ada’s bracelets; I gave it to her. I offered +her two alike. They came from Jefferie Muller’s. Our initials, twined +together, are engraved on the inside.” + +The tender Yankee was quite touched at the sight of this pledge of his +love to the woman. + +“Do you suppose that she would like to sell it to me?” he ventured with +a sigh. + +Butler conveyed this proposal to the Indian woman, who immediately drew +back her hand. + +“It was the wife of the pale-face who gave me that gold bracelet,” said +the Sioux; “I gave it to Makeni; it belongs to her.” + +“More likely that man stole it from Miss Ada,” answered Young, when the +trapper translated the warrior’s answer. + +“The wife of the pale-face is dead,” said William Dow, “and he would +be very happy if we should bring back from the prairie this souvenir +of his companion. I offer you for it twenty pounds of powder, thirty +of tobacco, and twenty-five bottles of brandy. You will come with us +to the fort, and it will be given to you. Besides, in the name of the +Great Spirit, I promise to send to Makeni by Butler on his next visit +to the reserves a bracelet even heavier than that.” + +It was a bargain in gold which the detective offered the Sioux warrior, +so he hastened to accept it. At his order, the young Indian girl, with +tears, slipped the jewel from her bronze arm. Saunders seized and +opened it and showed to Dow, engraved inside, two initials lovingly +entwined, and the date of the day he had made this present to Miss +Ada. While he stood with his eyes fixed on these initials and date, +which awoke memories so varied, his face expressed so much anger, +mingled with love, that Young, unable to hold in any longer, burst out +laughing, to the amazement of the Indians. But William Dow, to whom +everything was serious, preserved his gravity, and said to Saunders: + +“Trust me with this bracelet, I will return it before long.” + +Without a word, but not without a sigh of regret, the good man handed +the jewel to the detective, who immediately gave the signal for +departure. + +It had been decided that Washah and Winka should accompany the +strangers as far as Fort Dakota, in order to receive the promised +articles. + +Five minutes later all were in the saddle, and our travelers, after +shaking hands with Jimin and saluting the village with a discharge from +their carbines, set off again across the prairie. + +Mounted on excellent little horses, the two Sioux warriors escorted +them on their flanks. In two hours the little band traveled the +distance which separates the reserve from the American post. + +Night began to fall, and Saunders, overcome with fatigue, did not ask +the detective a single question that evening, but the next morning, +when the latter came to announce that they must start again, he thought +he would ask for an explanation of several things. + +“My dear sir,” answered our mysterious hero, “we will talk about all +this at Sioux City, where we shall part. Meanwhile, believe me, we have +not made a useless trip across the prairie. I have brought back, as I +hoped, an end of the rope by which James Gobson will be hung.” + +Without insisting further, Willie Saunders mounted his horse, and +the four travelers left Fort Dakota. Forty-eight hours later they +re-entered Sioux City. + +“Here,” said William Dow to his companions, the next day after +breakfast, “we part; we have completed all that we had to do together; +you are now free.” + +Then he added, addressing the trapper: “As for you, Butler, your help +has been valuable to me, and here is the hundred dollars I promised +to give you on our return from our expedition; and, in addition, here +is an extra hundred dollars, for I have really brought back from the +Indians all that I went to find. Mr. Saunders will not forget to give +you at the Union Hotel, in Jefferson, the bracelet intended for Winka’s +wife.” + +Miss Ada’s former lover confirmed the detective’s promise, and the +trapper, who had slipped the two hundred dollars into his belt, shook +hands with the three friends and left them. + +“Then,” Saunders asked William, “you are not to return with us to New +York?” + +“No,” answered the latter; “I am going to the opposite coast--to San +Francisco.” + +“To San Francisco?” + +“Yes, it is there I expect to find the rest of the rope which I intend +for James Gobson. You will soon hear from me, in a month at the latest, +but promise me, at my first despatch, to come and join me.” + +“If it is not too far.” + +“You will have only a few hours on the railroad.” + +“Now, before separating, let us talk more about this matter.” + +“I confess that I ask nothing better. It is time that I understood a +little, and I am sure the captain is of my opinion.” + +Young, who sat smoking his cigar, with his chair tipped back and his +feet on the table, nodded assent, and Dow continued: + +“We gained at Jefferson City the certainty that James Gobson was there +several days before Miss Ada was carried off; and, among the Sioux, +that it was really he who performed the kidnapping.” + +“Yes, it is indisputable,” said Saunders, “and it proves that if that +man is a wretch, his former wife is not much better than he, for after +letting her former husband give her up, she not only saved the scamp +from the gallows, but pardoned him besides.” + +“Even more than that, dear sir, she has become again his lawful wife.” + +“His lawful wife! Gobson has married Ada?” + +“By a second marriage since they were divorced.” + +“The wretches!” + +Poor Willie Saunders could say no more. Loving still, he retained the +hope of meeting Miss Ada again, and here was a new barrier raised +between her and himself. + +“But, my dear Dow,” observed Young, speaking in his turn; “how in the +devil can this testimony we have just received serve you?” + +“Yes; how?” murmured Saunders. + +“This Gobson,” resumed the captain, “carried off a woman, whether she +did or did not belong to him matters little; then this woman, forgiving +the abuse she had formerly received, accepted his name a second time. +It is odious, but the law has no power in such a matter. It was neither +a crime nor an offence, and, what is most curious, even if it were a +crime or offence, James Gobson would not be disturbed, since the court +revised his case and acquitted him.” + +It was weeks, and perhaps months, since the captain had indulged in so +long a speech and had reasoned with so much logic. He was astonished +himself, and waited for the answer of his friend Dow with the air of a +conqueror. + +“My dear Young,” said the latter, “you talk of guilt. James Gobson was +acquitted by the jury, it is true, but he has not been acquitted by +William Dow, and William Dow is keeping for him as well as for you, a +surprise. Ask me no more; return to New York and hold yourself ready to +join me when I send you word.” + +The captain and Saunders knew their friend too well to address any +more questions, and the travelers separated after this conversation. A +few hours later Young and Saunders took the cars at Sioux City for New +York, going east, while the detective, returning over the route already +traveled, went in the direction of the West. + +The next day, when Saunders, delighted at enjoying his ease again, +was having an excellent dinner with the captain in the luxurious +dining-room at the Sherman House, in Chicago, William Dow was on the +train to Omaha, which he was to leave at Benton, in Wyoming Territory. + +Ten days after his departure from Benton, when, perhaps, Young and +Saunders were no longer thinking of him, he arrived at San Francisco. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +TWO VILLAS AT JAMAICA PLAIN. + + +As William Dow had informed Mr. Kelly, it was really in Boston that +James Gobson had located himself, after leaving New York, to avoid the +rude and annoying curiosity of the latter city. But the rumor of the +legal error of which he had nearly been the victim, had so quickly +preceded him to the capital of Massachusetts, that a week after his +arrival, when he married Miss Ada Ricard, his divorced wife, the +Democrats offered him a banquet and received him with applause at +Barker’s, the fashionable club rendezvous. + +Imitating the custom of retired and wealthy merchants, Gobson did not +reside in the city proper, but lived about five miles out, at Jamaica +Plain, in a pretty villa, which was converted into a sumptuous dwelling +by Miss Ada’s taste. + +The re-married couple lived in comfort under the same roof, but almost +apart, which would have greatly calmed the jealousy of the unhappy +Saunders if he had known of it. + +The young woman occupied a charming apartment on the first +floor, composed of a large parlor, a boudoir, sleeping-room, and +dressing-room. The door of the latter room was at the head of the bed, +hidden by a blue silk portiere. The room was entirely hung with the +same material. James Gobson never set foot in this part of the house, +for once installed and received among the high-livers of Boston, he +resumed his former life and vices. Forgetting what his habits of +drinking, play, and his brutal ways had cost him, from his divorce to +the suspicions which had led him to the foot of the gallows, he had +fallen into the same excesses. He passed his days at the races, and +his evenings at Barker’s, and nine times out of ten he was intoxicated +when he went home in the middle of the night. Mrs. Gobson then had +everything to fear from her husband’s anger, and her fear must have +been extreme, for she never dared answer when he swore at her, nor +refuse him the money squandered. + +If Saunders could have witnessed one of these scenes, he certainly +would not have recognized the beautiful, capricious woman, so whimsical +and self-willed, who formerly ruled him. This life was doubly hard for +the former Miss Ada, for she no longer had Mary with her, for Gobson, +after generously rewarding the girl, had dismissed her, and then +replaced her by a servant in whom he inspired as much fear as in his +wife. + +The other servants in this gloomy household were a cook and a gardener, +who were not interested in the conjugal quarrels of the couple, and who +besides rarely witnessed them, since they took place very late, when, +their work being over, they had retired to their own quarters. + +Mrs. Gobson then lived in absolute solitude with the exception of her +seamstress, her dress-maker, and a few tradespeople she was acquainted +with, and received no one, and that this isolation was mournful to her +was plainly shown in her face. + +She was still beautiful, but her complexion had grown pale and her +eyes hollow. Her whole countenance expressed sorrow, lassitude and +discouragement. + +Sometimes, however, when her husband went in town after committing +some rude or violent act, her eyes would flash lightning and her lips +contract in a menacing smile. In such moments a leaven of rebellion and +vengeance seemed to rise within her. But it lasted only an instant; +some secret and terrible thought passed through her mind, and with a +shudder she burst into sobs. What still further increased the martyrdom +of the pretty, forsaken woman, and what rendered her life more horrible +and her isolation more cruel, was the sight that met her eyes when, +concealed behind the curtains of her sleeping-room, she looked into the +park of the next house. + +There all was calm, happy, and pure. This house was inhabited by a +distinguished-looking man about forty years old, of a particularly +intelligent face, and by a young girl nearly sixteen, of a bewitching, +gentle beauty, who had a middle-aged governess or teacher with her. +The forsaken Mrs. Gobson supposed it was the home of a couple in their +honeymoon, and her heart, she could not tell why, was saddened; but, on +inquiring, she learned that her neighbor was named Charles Murray, and +that the young person called Jane was his daughter or ward, and she +felt an unhoped-for relief. From that moment she continued her curious +watching without the unconscious jealousy she at first had felt, and +she soon learned by the despotism with which her thoughts reverted to +Charles Murray, that she loved the stranger whom chance had brought so +near her. + +She soon made her neighbor aware of the attention of which he was the +object, and he was evidently as much flattered as touched, for in less +than a fortnight after the first looks exchanged, Mrs. Gobson read +with deep emotion these two lines which she found in a bunch of roses, +thrown to her over the garden-wall: + +“You are adorably beautiful, and I love you. How can I speak with you?” + +Her husband had just left for his club, where he was going to dine, +and, according to his custom, pass the evening and a part of the night. +Mrs. Gobson went up to her room, where from her window she saw her +neighbor, who, pretending to be absorbed in reading a newspaper, was +watching her. + +She immediately wrote a few words, slipped them in an envelope, in +which she placed a dollar to give it the necessary weight, and tossed +it so skilfully that the loving projectile fell at Charles Murray’s +feet. + +He picked it up, and read: + +“At eight o’clock this evening, at the end of the avenue.” + +He gave her a look of thanks which made her blush with happiness, and +returned home. + +Charles Murray had given Miss Jane the first floor of his villa, but +he had reserved for himself two rooms on the ground-floor which had a +private entrance. The first of these rooms was a sleeping-room, the +second a study, the door of which was always carefully locked, and no +one, not even the servants, ever entered it. + +Murray, who was interested in science, had, they said, dangerous +materials and fragile apparatuses which he wished to protect from +curious eyes or from being handled. When he established himself at +Jamaica Plain, he alone received and opened the boxes which contained +them. His orders were strictly obeyed. When her friend or guardian was +at home and she wished to see him, Miss Jane herself did not cross the +threshold of this mysterious apartment--she called to him from outside. + +It was to this study that Murray proceeded when he left Mrs. Gobson, +and if the latter had followed him she would have been strangely +surprised; for, instead of covering her note with loving kisses, as she +perhaps fancied, her neighbor, when once at home, took a voluminous +package of papers from his desk, drew out one crumpled letter, and, +comparing it with that from Mr. Gobson’s wife, said: + +“It is, indeed, the same handwriting.” + +During this time Ada was plunged in her dreams of love. When dinner +was ready she seated herself at table, but ate hardly anything. At +eight o’clock, taking the chance while her servants were busy in the +kitchen, she stole out of the house. + +It was beginning to grow dark, and the air was warm and fragrant. +She drew her mantle around her and quickened her steps, and soon +discovered, under one of the tall trees in the avenue, the man she was +coming to meet. + +Murray, who had recognized her, quickly advanced to meet her, and said +in a low voice, full of feeling: + +“Madam, forgive me for having dared to break in upon your solitude.” + +“I forgive you, sir,” she answered, “by coming here.” + +“Thank you--thank you with all my heart.” + +He offered her his arm, and she took it, saying: + +“You wrote me that you loved me, did you know who I am?” + +“I might answer you no, but that would be unworthy of you and me. Yes, +I know who you are. The name of your husband told me that you were the +heroine of that event which all New York was talking about for two +months.” + +“And was this why you have made me a declaration of love?” + +She said this in a tone of pique, and withdrew her arm from that of her +escort. + +Understanding what was passing in her mind, Charles Murray hastened to +answer, gently replacing her arm within his. + +“Oh! you do not believe it, madam; I love you because you are lovely, +and I judged you were unhappy because you are beautiful, and my heart, +void of affection, went out to you.” + +“Is all this really the truth?” + +Ada, wishing to be convinced, smiled. + +“Really the truth,” repeated Murray, tenderly pressing the little hand +she had let him take. + +“But the foolishness of this love; I am married.” + +“Why did you marry a second time a man of whom you had so much to +complain?” + +“Ah, I don’t know. The peculiar situation in which the law placed us. +Weakness.” + +“Get a divorce a second time.” + +“Impossible.” + +“Impossible, why?” + +“Because, on the mere suspicion of such an intention on my part, my +husband would kill me. You see, I came to meet you to warn you of the +danger to which you expose me. I have been able to escape to-day; but +to come out again in this way would seem strange to my servants, for we +receive no one, and Mr. Gobson is not acquainted with you.” + +“I can become acquainted with him.” + +“I think not; and I hope not, for your sake.” + +“But if it is the only way to see you, and talk with you.” + +“Yes, it is the only way. You love me, then?” + +“I have never met a more charming woman than you. Give me a little hope +and I will become your husband’s friend in less than a week.” + +“Do so, and we will see. Meanwhile let me go; my absence may be +remarked.” + +They retraced their steps, then separated a hundred yards from their +villas, not without pressing hands and giving many promises. + +When Mrs. Gobson reached the house, she went at once to her room, where +her first look was at her mirror which gave her back a smile. The few +moments which she had just passed in a loving tete-a-tete had restored +all her beauty. + +Murray, after noiselessly closing the garden gate, which he had left +open when he went out, entered his study. Absorbed in his thoughts, +he had not seen, two steps from the fence, hidden behind a cluster +of trees, a young girl watching him, no doubt, for the emotion which +overcame her at sight of him was so great that she had to cover her +face to stifle a sob. It was this lovely child whose chaste beauty +awakening Mrs. Gobson’s jealousy, had, perhaps, more than any other +sentiment, awakened in her heart the imperious desire to be loved. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +WHAT HAPPENED ON LEAVING BARKER’S. + + +In less than a fortnight after his reception at Barker’s, James Gobson +became one of the most constant attendants at the club. A great drinker +and gambler, he found adversaries equal to him, who soon became +intimate with him and who led him without any difficulty into every +excess. They knew he was rich, and cared little how he made his money. +He was at every race, took part in all the betting, and was invited to +every entertainment, and, like certain other high-livers of the club, +he finally took a room at Barker’s, in order to have a bed ready for +the days when drunkenness did not permit him to go home, even if he +were carried there. + +Master Gobson thus led the gayest, most irregular existence, while his +wife remained alone in her villa, at Jamaica Plain. It would have been +a real satisfaction to the inconsolable Saunders to see how forsaken +was the woman who, in order to marry a second time, had repelled his +love. + +Being very jolly, even when he was thoroughly drunk, Ada Ricard’s +husband took every joke in good part, excepting those about his trial. +He did not like to be reminded of the critical days which he had spent +at the Tombs, and liked still less to speak of the woman who bore his +name. When people expressed astonishment at never seeing him with the +beautiful Mrs. Gobson, who had saved his life and given a true proof of +love in marrying him a second time, in spite of the past, he answered +evasively. If any one persisted he grew pale and his eyes wore a look +of hatred people could not explain. But these questions were not +repeated. At the end of a month his pleasure companions gave as little +thought to his wife as if she did not exist. James then became quite +happy. + +Matters were like this at the time of the rendezvous of Mrs. Gobson +and Charles Murray. That evening Gobson spent the night at his club, +but the next day he had to return home, for he had emptied his pockets +in gambling. Naturally, he had expected reproaches, as usual on such +occurrences, but to his amazement Ada received him charmingly. + +What to her henceforth were the follies and absence of the man she was +about to escape? + +But James cared too little for Mrs. Gobson to question about this +sudden change. Coldly sceptical, and profoundly selfish, he accepted +the effect without seeking to trace it back to the cause. + +The couple passed the day in perfect harmony, and toward five o’clock, +when her husband, with his pocket-book replenished, told her that he +was going to his club, Ada bade him a friendly good-by. + +Gobson wished particularly to dine at Barker’s that evening, for they +were going to receive a new member into their club, and this ceremony +was always accompanied by a banquet at which the most important members +of the club did not fail to be present. + +The newly elected member, Harris Burnett by name, came to Boston with +the warmest recommendations, and preceded by the reputation of a brave +drinker. They presented James Gobson to him, who sat on his right, and +these two gentlemen, with their wine-glasses in their hands, became so +well acquainted that when they arose from the table, at ten o’clock, +they were intimate boon companions. From the dining-room they passed +into a parlor, but there, instead of taking a seat at the gaming-table +as Gobson invited him, Harris asked to be excused a moment, under the +pretext of going to his hotel. + +In fact, he ran to it, for a man was waiting for him on the door-step. + +It was Charles Murray. + +“Well,” asked the latter, “how are you getting on?” + +“We have reached the most tender friendship,” answered Harris Burnett, +“only I do not think he will leave Barker’s to-night. He is going to +play, and he is so drunk that he will probably fall asleep at the club.” + +“So much the better; I am not ready, and that assures us of his return +to-morrow to Jamaica Plain. But to-morrow he must not leave before +half-past twelve at night. Do not let him get too drunk; keep him +steady enough to get into a carriage which will stand two doors above +Barker’s. Above all, if he has a revolver take it away from him, or +what is better, unload it. The rest I will take care of.” + +“How shall I notify you?” + +“I shall be here to-morrow at this hour. If any unforeseen obstacle +presents itself it will be the next day.” + +Having received these strange instructions Burnett returned to +Barker’s, and Charles Murray, stepping into the carriage waiting for +him, drove to Jamaica Plain. + +Things went on as he had predicted, James Gobson played half the night +and slept at his club. + +The next day his new friend came to see him; they went together to the +races. Then returned to Barker’s for dinner, then at ten o’clock they +began to play with opponents who had been mentioned to Harris as never +keeping very late hours. Therefore, toward midnight these gentlemen +expressed a desire to end the game, and James Gobson who, while +playing, had not ceased to drink, prepared to leave. + +“Are you going home?” asked Burnett, who, at the hour agreed, had +absented himself a moment to tell Charles Murray what had happened. + +“Upon my word I am,” answered James; “it is forty-eight hours since I +have set foot in it.” + +“Then let us go down together?” + +“Agreed.” + +They entered the vestibule, where Harris, not being able to further +carry out the orders he had received, adroitly drew out the revolver +in Gobson’s pocket. Having done that, he took the arm of his new +friend, who reeled somewhat, and they went out. The street was deserted. + +“My God,” murmured the drunken man, “no carriage! I shall go back to +the club; I have no desire to go to Jamaica Plain by means of my own +legs; in fact, they would not take me there.” + +“Here is a carriage,” said Harris, laughing at his friend’s pleasantry. + +He pointed out a cab, the driver of which was evidently waiting for a +passenger, for he drove his horse toward the men approaching. + +Gobson tumbled into the carriage, shook the hand of his new dinner +companion energetically, stammered out his address, and threw himself +back in a corner and closed his eyes. + +The cab had been rolling on for three-quarters of an hour, and was +within a hundred yards of the avenue where is the villa with which our +readers are already acquainted, when Gobson, who had fallen asleep, +suddenly awoke, hearing the oaths which his autonedon was pouring out. +The man had jumped down from his box and was carefully examining one of +the wheels of his carriage. + +“What is the matter?” asked James, whom the brief sleep had partly +sobered. + +“One of the nuts has come off, and I cannot go any farther,” answered +the man. + +“Pooh! That is nothing,” said Gobson, jumping out into the road; “I +will go home on foot. Stop--here’s your pay.” + +He gave a dollar to the driver, who thanked him, and, while his +passenger went whistling toward the avenue, he turned his cab around, +then leading his horse by the bridle, took the road toward the city. + +But five minutes later he quietly drew a nut from his pocket, put it in +place, jumped on his box, and set off at a gallop. + +James, without suspecting the trick of which he was a victim, had +reached the avenue, where, owing to the tall trees that bordered it, +it was rather dark. Suddenly, as he was going along the wall of a wide +park, two men sprang upon him, and so quickly that he hardly had time +to give a shout. One of his assailants had seized him by the throat, +and the other was trying to throw him on the ground, saying: + +“If you call, you are dead. Quick, your money and your watch.” + +But Gobson was brave and strong. Holding with one hand the arm of the +thief who was threatening him with his knife, and giving a vigorous +bump with his head on the face of the man who was strangling him, he +disengaged himself sufficiently to be able to give a second cry for +help. + +“Keep up, I am coming,” a voice immediately answered, and he heard +steps running toward him. + +At once understanding that their shot had missed, the two robbers +bound their victim and sprang to the other side of the road, but +James’ preserver no doubt did not wish them to get off so easily, for +two shots resounded the air, and one of the two wretches gave a cry +which Gobson, had he been less drunk, would have understood, for his +deliverer had simply fired in the air. + +Gobson was hardly saved before he wished also to take his revenge, only +to his amazement he no longer found in his overcoat pocket the revolver +he was sure he had put there. Besides, the thieves had disappeared, and +the man who had so fortunately come to his aid had approached. + +“You are not wounded, are you, sir?” asked the stranger. + +“No,” answered Gobson; “but had it not been for your arrival I believe +that all would have been over with me. The rogues almost strangled me. +I cannot tell you how grateful I am.” + +While saying this James arranged his toilet, the harmony of which was +singularly disturbed by this attack, and he fumbled in vain in his +pockets, saying: + +“It is singular; I am, however, certain I took it from home yesterday.” + +“What is it?” asked his savior. + +“My revolver. However, thanks to yours, one of those robbers has paid +for his audacity. But, one question, sir. How happen you to be in this +avenue at such an hour?” + +“I was returning home.” + +“Home?” + +“Yes; I live two hundred steps from here, at No. 67.” + +“Indeed. We are neighbors, then; I live at villa 66.” + +“You are Mr. James Gobson.” + +“I am. But you have the advantage of me. I am not acquainted with your +name.” + +“My name is Charles Murray.” + +“Well, Mr. Charles Murray, I owe you my life, and I shall not forget +it; and since we are neighbors we will not part thus. You will do me +the pleasure of coming into my house and taking a glass of champagne.” + +“It is very late.” + +“Hardly one o’clock.” + +“Are you not married? We should awaken Mrs. Gobson.” + +“Bah! Mrs. Gobson will be delighted to see the man who saved her +husband, unless it was she who tried to have me assassinated.” + +James said this with a laugh, but his laugh was ironical, and expressed +that he believed his wife perfectly capable of such an act. Charles +Murray did not seem to understand; he merely observed to his neighbor +that the men who attacked him seemed to have no other intention than to +rob him. + +“Yes; that is true,” said Gobson, laughing again; “and you think this +is only joking on my part?” + +While talking thus the two were walking homeward. They soon reached the +first of the two villas. + +“What, you really wish me to enter your house at such an hour?” asked +Murray, as Gobson opened the gate and stood aside to let him pass in. + +“Certainly, my dear sir, I absolutely insist on it. You would disoblige +me very much by refusing.” + +“Let it be then as you wish.” + +And following the master of the villa, who preceded him to show him the +way, Charles Murray crossed the garden and entered the house. + +“Hallo! Betsy, Betsy, come down,” shouted Gobson at the foot of the +staircase. + +Betsy was Ada’s maid. She had retired to her bed but was not yet +asleep. She immediately answered, and James, taking the lamp which +lighted the hall, showed his neighbor into the dining-room. The servant +appeared almost immediately. + +“Light the gas,” ordered the master; “give us some champagne, cigars +and crackers, and tell Mrs. Gobson to join us.” + +“Madam is asleep,” said Betsy. + +“Wake her up,” answered the brute, roughly. + +“No, I beg you,” entreated Murray. “I shall have the honor of seeing +Mrs. Gobson to-morrow.” + +“No such thing; she will have time enough to sleep--she has nothing +better to do. Be off with you, quick, you stupid creature.” + +These last words were addressed to the maid, who was no doubt +accustomed to this rude tone, and ventured no remark. She lighted the +room, served the champagne, and disappeared to obey her orders. + +Gobson poured out the wine like a man expert in such operations, +filled the glasses, and emptied his at one swallow, with a bow to his +preserver. Murray drank with his host, who said, filling the glasses +again: + +“It is truly a good fortune for me to have you for a neighbor. Have +you lived in the avenue long?” + +“Hardly a month. The air of the neighborhood was recommended for my +niece. I came here on her account.” + +“Are you not married?” + +“No.” + +“You are very fortunate.” + +“You are more so. They say Mrs. Gobson is very pretty.” + +“Yes, that may be; but you see, dear Mr. Murray, the best wife--when +you are tied to her--is worse than the devil. She is an obstacle. I for +my part like liberty.” + +The rustle of a dress interrupted this coarse outburst of James Gobson, +who was rapidly returning on the road to drunkenness, and a few seconds +later the mistress of the house appeared on the threshold of the +dining-room. + +Ada was prettier than ever. In a long blue satin robe, with her +beautiful hair simply drawn up in a knot on her head, she was simply +charming. + +On recognizing in her husband’s companion the man she loved, she +stopped in the doorway an instant, but understanding that there was +some mystery that would be explained later she silenced the beating of +her heart, became mistress of herself again, and, bowing to Mr. Murray +as she would have done to a stranger, she entered, saying to James, in +a dry, curt tone: + +“Betsy awoke me, saying that you wanted me. What can you wish at such +an hour?” + +“Why, my dear,” answered Gobson, in a mocking tone, “I simply wish to +present to you the man who has saved my life, Mr. Murray, our neighbor. +Without his aid, two scamps were about to do me an evil deed.” + +“I do not understand you,” said the young woman, slightly shrugging her +shoulders with indifferent concern. + +“Oh, I know very well,” returned the drunkard, who had caught this +movement, “that if those fellows had driven six inches of steel into me +you would not have felt greatly displeased. I have been attacked; they +tried to rob me, but my savior arrived. It was time, for I was half +strangled, and his timely appearance no doubt saved my life.” + +“Madam,” said Charles Murray, who had risen at Ada’s entrance, “your +husband exaggerates a little the service which I have rendered him. I +believe that he would have saved himself without me. However that may +be, I beg pardon for having disturbed your rest. I did not wish to +enter your house, but Mr. Gobson insisted, and my refusal would have +offended him.” + +“Ah, certainly, yes; I insisted,” replied James, quickly, “and I think +it won’t end here; you seem to me like a lively companion. Another +glass of champagne. Come, Ada, drink with us, or I shall think that you +are grieving because I returned safe and sound.” + +“I am quite ready,” answered Mrs. Gobson, smiling, divining that this +attack on her husband was only a comedy. “Whatever you may think, I +am happy that nothing happened to you. I thank you very sincerely, +Mr.--Mr.--” + +“Murray,” was the answer. + +And taking the full glass which her husband handed her, she moistened +her rosy lips, looking steadily at her neighbor with an expression of +countenance that indicated pleasure. + +“Now,” said the latter, “you will permit me, dear Mr. Gobson, to +intrude no longer; we will see each other again, since you kindly +invite me to your house.” + +“Let me show you the way home.” + +“Pray do not take the trouble; I can find the way.” + +This offer, in fact, was almost impossible for James to carry out, for +the four or five glasses of champagne which he had just drank had again +intoxicated him. + +“Then,” he stuttered, “let Betsy show you the way.” + +“I will do it myself,” said Mrs. Gobson. + +Gobson nodded approval, and held out his hand to his guest, making him +promise to return the next day. + +Ada was already on the steps when Charles Murray joined her. They +crossed the garden together. + +“Well,” he said, when they reached the gate, “you see I have kept my +promise; here I am, your husband’s friend. Will you not give me a word +of hope?” + +“You are charming,” said Mrs. Gobson, her eyes sparkling. “I will see +you to-morrow.” Unclosing the gate after making this promise, she ran +up to her room without entering the dining-room, where James, with his +elbows on the table, was murmuring, with eyes full of hatred: + +“If I thought those men were set on by her I would kill her as I would +a dog.” + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +A WIFE’S LOVE AND A MAID’S LOVE. + + +Under the conditions just described, the love-making of Charles Murray +and Mrs. Gobson promised rapid progress. Ada was charmed by the easy +address of the handsome stranger, for she knew that in order to visit +her he had planned this attack from which he had saved her husband, +but humiliated at her husband’s rudeness in the presence of his guest +thought only of revenge. + +Being sure that Gobson would be eager for an acquaintance with his +preserver in proportion to the repugnance she might show for the +intimacy, the next day, when she was told that Mr. Murray would lunch +at the villa, she received the news with displeasure; she seated +herself at the table, pouting, and before the end of the meal excused +herself with some pretext, in spite of the rude remarks of her husband. +But the latter cared little; he was none the less convivial with his +guest, so much so that at the last course he was intoxicated and would +not allow his new friend to leave. + +“Let it please or not please Mrs. Gobson,” he said. “We must see each +other often. Get admitted to our club at Barker’s; I will vouch for +you. We will return to Jamaica Plain when we please, and if by chance +we happen to come home early we will end our night gayly here.” + +“I accept,” answered Murray, touching his glass for the tenth time to +that of the drunken man. “Ah! you know how to enjoy life.” + +“Better still; I wish our two villas to be like one. They formerly +communicated by a gate now out of use; to-morrow it shall be opened +again. Will that suit you?” + +“Perfectly.” + +“Hurrah, then! A good table, play and friends give the only true +pleasure. To the devil with a wife--that is, your own--” + +Charles Murray, who seemed proof against intoxication, touched glasses +as often as it pleased his host, and they did not separate until the +latter wishing to go to his club, thought it best to throw himself on +his bed and rest for several hours before starting. + +At nightfall, after dinner, when her husband had gone, Mrs. Gobson +watched for her neighbor; but to her amazement and great chagrin he did +not give a sign of his existence. She did not see him again until the +next day, when Gobson, having opened the connecting-gate between the +two villas, did the honors of the house and park to him. + +During this visit Murray found a chance to say to Mrs. Gobson, +“This evening,” and in the hope of this interview she forgot her +disappointment and useless waiting of the evening before. She was +punctual at the rendezvous. She waited for Murray at the garden-gate, +and led him to a green bower, where no curious eye could see them. + +“I waited for you in vain yesterday,” she said, in a gentle tone of +reproach, as soon as they had seated themselves on a broad rattan bench. + +“Ada, listen to me,” answered Mr. Murray, in a grave voice, but +lovingly pressing the two little hands Mrs. Gobson gave him. “I feel +drawn toward you by a genuine love. The thought that that coarse +creature is your husband drives me to despair, and I long to break the +fatal link that binds you to him. Is it not possible?” + +“I think not,” answered Ada sadly, rapt by these words, for being +little accustomed to delicate sentiments, she found a peculiar charm in +feeling herself jealously loved. + +“Why is it impossible?” + +“Oh! I cannot tell you. Do not question me, if you love me.” + +The young woman said this with an inexpressible accent of terror. Her +hands trembled in Murray’s, and she bowed before him as if begging him +to defend her, and tears shone in her beautiful eyes. + +But this man seemed as if made of bronze; not a pulse was stirred, and +yet this woman was appealing to him by the ardor of her heart, and the +tone of her voice, but he gently tried to console her with kind words. +He then led her to the doorsteps, saying: + +“Again to-morrow.” + +Ada went to her room, where, in a fit of despair, she flung herself +upon her bed, giving vent to fierce words of hatred against her husband. + +The following days passed the same. One evening when she was with him, +she said: + +“I entreat you to tell me what to do.” + +“I repeat to you, Ada,” answered Murray, “you must separate from that +man, since you have had the weakness to marry him a second time.” + +“A second time!” said the young woman, with a smile whose irony +transformed it into a sob, and falling at Murray’s feet, she repeated: +“A second time! Oh! if you only knew.” + +“Explain yourself. What secret links you to him? Have confidence in me. +Let us try every means to free you.” + +“Oh! no, no; never,” cried Mrs. Gobson, with an indescribable tone of +terror. “If I were to die of your scorn, I shall not speak. Farewell.” + +Speaking these words in a heart-rending tone, she had arisen and, +without looking around, hastened to her room, shutting the door quickly +behind her. + +Murray who, no doubt, hardly expected this sudden disappearance, stood +a moment amazed and disappointed, but he made no attempt to recall the +fugitive. He took his hat, went slowly down stairs, left the house and +walked toward the gate leading to his own villa. He had almost reached +it when, suddenly, the rustling of a dress and hurrying footsteps +indicated that some one was running after him. He turned round and saw +Ada, who sprang toward him. + +“No, I do not wish to part thus. To-morrow I will tell you all, and you +will free me from that man. But you will love me, you will love me, +won’t you?” + +“How could I help loving you, when you give me such a proof of love,” +he answered. “I love you so much already.” + +At the same moment a mournful groan was heard on the other side of the +gate. + +“What is that?” asked Mrs. Gobson, frightened. + +“Nothing, nothing,” said Charles Murray, whose paleness was hidden by +the darkness. “Go home now.” + +“But then----” + +“Go, go, I beg you; it is my wish,” and paying no further attention to +her, he sprang into his garden, fastening the gate after him; within +two steps he came near stumbling over some one lying near a cluster of +trees. + +“Jane,” he cried, recognizing who it was. + +He took her in his arms and, laden with his precious burden, ran into +the house. + +“Oh, Miss Jane, what has happened?” cried her good governess, on +recognizing her pupil. “She was with me only five minutes ago.” + +“It is not much, I hope,” answered Murray, mounting the stairs as +lightly as if he were carrying a child. + +Having reached Jane’s sleeping-room he lay her on a lolling-chair, +and immediately assured himself that it was only a fainting turn. A +moment later, owing to prompt measures, she came to herself. Opening +her large eyes, and after trying a few minutes to steady her head, she +recognized her friend, and blushingly clasping her hands, said: + +“Forgive me, Charles, forgive me, I am punished enough,” and she burst +into sobs. + +“Forgive you, Jane? For what? Weep if you must; it will relieve you, +and you can explain all to me later. Meanwhile, dear little one, be +calm. I forgive you with all my heart, although I do not know what +fault you have committed, and I love you.” + +At these words the young girl grew pale, and, as if she felt herself +growing ill again, her lids drooped. + +“Let your maid attend to you,” continued Murray, after touching the +child’s forehead with his lips, “and your governess and I will then +come and stay with you until you fall asleep.” + +He signed to the governess, and leaving the invalid in the care of the +maid, they passed into the boudoir. There they were far enough away not +to be heard. + +“What does this mean?” Murray asked the old lady. + +“It was sure to happen some day or another, sir,” answered the teacher; +“I reproach myself with having kept silence.” + +“Silence? Explain yourself; you frighten me.” + +“Miss Jane loves you, sir.” + +“Miss Jane loves me.” And as he repeated these words Murray carried his +hands to his face, which became of a livid pallor. + +“Yes, she loves you and is jealous.” + +“Jealous of whom, great God?” + +But with his customary clearness of mind immediately reviewing the +scene whose ending caused the young girl’s cry and fainting, he +understood that she had been watching him in the garden when Ada joined +him near the gate, and it was the loving words she heard which caused +her illness. + +“Oh! it is frightful,” he murmured, with great agitation. + +“That is not all, sir; I must conceal nothing from you,” replied the +teacher. + +“What more?” + +“Day before yesterday, early in the evening, Miss Jane, who had left +me only a quarter of an hour before, came up suffering from a nervous +attack. I wished to call you, but she objected, saying: ‘He is with her +in his library. I suspected it, but I wished to see for myself. Oh! I +am cruelly punished for my curiosity.’” + +“She saw me with Mrs. Gobson?” questioned Murray in amazement, and in a +voice strangely moved. + +“That is how it was,” continued the governess, “but I ask your pardon +for speaking to you of things that do not concern me.” + +“Continue, continue. Did Miss Jane watch me and hear me enter?” + +“I do not know; it is probable. At any rate, she came down slowly, +noiselessly slipped into your sleeping-room, of which you had only +dropped the portieres without closing the door, and she recognized that +woman, and she ran away for fear of being caught. And she came and +told me this with sobs.” + +“Poor little one,” said Murray, with a strange smile, “I am in despair. +Go up to her; do not leave her alone a single instant; tell her that +she is mistaken, and that I will explain all some day. Above all, +advise her to be calm.” + +Then he added, as if speaking to himself, while the teacher left to +join her pupil, “The love of this angel is my punishment; well, I +must finish my task; God will do the rest.” And immediately going +down-stairs to his study, he rapidly wrote the following lines: + + MY DEAR FRIEND:--The hour has come; on receipt of this letter, run to + Mr. Kelly’s and tell him to ask Mr. Davis for a warrant against James + Gobson and his wife. Tell these gentlemen that I will answer for this + measure with my honor. Then take the first train for Boston with Mr. + Saunders and stop at the American House, where await yours truly, + + WILLIAM. + +Having addressed it to Captain Young at the office of the central +police, New York, Charles Murray, or rather William Dow, whom the +reader has already recognized, left his study calmer than he had +entered it a few moments before. + +He ordered one of his servants to mail this letter and went to inquire +after Jane. The young girl had recovered and fallen asleep. As he +went down he gave a threatening look at the lighted windows of Mrs. +Gobson, who, no doubt, was thinking lovingly of him and he entered his +apartments, saying: + +“Young will have my letter to-morrow; in forty-eight hours he will +arrive. I have more time than I need. Before then all will be ready.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE MURDERER OF A DEAD WOMAN. + + +Since the day he was attacked, James Gobson had become ruder and more +brutal to his wife than before. Although he seemed to have been joking +when reproaching her for having set assassins on his track, the idea of +a trap laid by her had taken root in his mind, and, brave as he was, he +so feared that the attempt would be renewed that he no longer returned +to Jamaica Plain at night. When he had prolonged his stay at the club +he slept there, and did not return to the villa until daylight the next +day. + +His first duty, on arriving home, was invariably to make a scene, +either with his servants or Mrs. Gobson; then, this duty of a drunkard +being accomplished, he would call on Charles Murray, of whom he had +made a confidant. The latter tried to calm him, but took such strange +means that Gobson always left him after such conversations filled with +greater hatred than ever toward Ada. + +The day after the event which ends the preceding chapter, James +returned home towards three o’clock, and as usual called on his +neighbor, and talked about his wife in such a manner that Mr. Dow +answered: + +“Such a life is a perfect purgatory; why do you not separate from Mrs. +Gobson? It would be better than any scandal, for certainly she will run +off some morning. Some fine evening, when you return home, you won’t +find her.” + +“Separate from her? Is that possible?” growled the husband. “If I +thought she had any idea of flight, I swear she should not go out of my +house until she went with her feet foremost. There will be trouble yet. +Does she ever say anything in particular to you?” + +“I have never been alone with her more than twice since we have been +acquainted, and you know she does not like me very well.” + +“Of course not. You saved my life.” + +“No, that is not the reason; but she knows that I have great friendship +for you. However, it is very evident that she has some plan in her +head. Have you not a relative or friend by the name of Davis?” + +“Davis? No. Why?” + +“I had reason to think so, for the other evening, when you had been +treating her rather badly, it must be confessed, I heard her murmur, as +she followed you about with her eyes: ‘And to think I had only to write +a word to Davis to put an end to it all.’” + +“Davis? The wretch!” + +This name, no doubt, had suddenly awakened terrible memories in +Gobson’s mind, for in uttering this exclamation he had become very pale +and had arisen. + +“You will not betray me,” said Charles Murray. “Come, calm yourself. It +is of no use to be violent with women. You must use a little cunning, +and don’t let them surprise you. This Davis, or any other friend or +relative, matters little to you. No one could frighten you; you are +master in your own house. If I were in your place I should leave Mrs. +Gobson to live as she pleases; I would authorize her to amuse herself +as best suits her; I would even urge her to keep less secluded. It +would not need any more to satisfy her and restore peace to both of +you.” + +“Yes, perhaps you are right,” answered James, with a visible effort to +master himself. + +“And above all, I would not say anything to her. If you do, she will be +on her guard, and will play you some trick and do something rash. Do +you think we had better go and see her together?” + +“No, indeed, not to-day, or to-morrow, probably. This evening I dine +at the club, and to-morrow we shall go to the races with a jolly +companion, who has lately joined us, Harris Burnett. Now, you know that +on the day of the races, there is a great banquet at Barker’s. After +to-morrow, in two or three days, we will see what is best to be done. +Meanwhile, since you will not come with us, preach to Ada, and if you +see anything promise to warn me.” + +“I will not fail to do so.” + +“And, then, you see, at heart I do not think her capable of playing me +a wicked trick. However, I know what I am about.” + +James Gobson spoke these words in a peculiar tone, and the friends +having separated after this conversation, the drunken Gobson went to +Boston without even stopping to see his wife. The latter, however, +waited in vain for Charles Murray all the evening. The door between +the two villas remained closed, and she passed a terrible night, +not understanding why he had not come to see her. Mad with love and +despair, she did not fall asleep until late into the night, and the +next morning she hastily wrote a note, which she sent to her neighbor. + +On reading this letter, Murray could not conceal a smile of triumph. +Ada, however, had written only these three lines, but no doubt did not +wish more: + + Come, I beg you, I will tell you everything, I cannot live thus; I do + not wish Mr. Gobson to find me at Jamaica Plain to-morrow. + +An hour later Charles Murray was warmly greeted by Mrs. Gobson. + +“Ada,” he said, gently, “I do not wish to know your secrets; from +yourself, I wish only you; will you elope with me?” + +“Will I?” answered the young woman with a joyful cry. + +“Well, in the first place, your husband must be sent away for two or +three days, but he must certainly be sent away from Boston, for he +might come home from his club at any moment and suddenly surprise you +making preparations for departure. You know him well.” + +“He would kill me; but how can I manage to send him away?” + +“You must send him to some city away from Boston. Let me think. Has he +not some friends at Buffalo?” + +“I don’t know of any.” + +“Ah! I think I have found a plan. What were the names of those +magistrates who made such a foolish mistake in accusing your husband of +having murdered you?” + +“Mortimer and Davis. The latter was the coroner in my district.” + +Mrs. Gobson spoke these names with a blush and in a choking voice. + +But her neighbor did not observe her emotion, and said: + +“Coroner Davis, that is perfect. I have a plan; write down his name and +address for me that I may not forget it. Here, on this envelope.” + +Murray took a tablet from the table and placed it on Miss Ada’s knees. +The latter tremblingly obeyed. + +“Do you not understand me?” he asked. + +“No,” she answered. + +“It is very simple, however. I am going to get a friend of mine in +New York to write a letter to Mr. Gobson, in which Mr. Davis will be +supposed to have some information to ask of him.” + +“Oh, don’t do that,” cried Ada, in terror. + +“Why, what is there to fear? Absolutely nothing.” + +But seeing Mrs. Gobson’s eyes look wild and her face terrified, he +continued gently: + +“Well, let us think of something else--or rather we will think of +something this evening; calm yourself now.” + +“Yes, this evening,” she repeated, questioning him with her eyes. + +“But until then you must obey me.” + +“Blindly.” + +“You must take care to keep your servants out of the way; I don’t wish +to be betrayed by any of them.” + +“The gardener has gone to the races and will not return. The cook is +ill, and I shall send my maid to the city.” + +“Then stand near the garden-gate this evening at nine o’clock, and I +will come for you.” + +“Give me one kiss,” entreated Mrs. Gobson. + +Murray, who had arisen, lightly touched his lips to her forehead and +left her. + +He remained only a few moments in his room, then went out and stepped +into a carriage standing at his door. An hour later he was in the +American House shaking hands with Saunders and Young, who had just +arrived. + +The chief of detectives was still the same--friendly and gruff, and +talking, as usual, of arresting every one in the world. + +William Dow asked after Mr. Kelly. + +“I saw him yesterday,” answered the captain; “he was impatiently +waiting for you to keep your promise.” + +“The elections will not take place for a fortnight; now, to-morrow +morning I hope all will be ended.” + +In Saunders a great change had taken place, to his advantage. His love +had vanished, and in his heart remained only anger and humiliation +at having been duped. In physique he was wonderfully improved. His +complexion had recovered its freshness, and stout as he was he had even +gained flesh. It is useless to add that he was very affectionate to his +friend Dow, especially when he learned that the moment for vengeance +had come. + +Toward six o’clock the travelers had dinner served in their room, and +the detective left them a moment to receive, in an adjoining parlor, a +visitor who had asked for him. + +It was Harris Burnett. + +“Well,” said William Dow, “where is our man?” + +“He has lost much at the races, which has put him in a bad mood; +besides, he is half drunk,” answered Burnett. + +“He must not get wholly drunk. Now listen to me attentively. At +half-past eleven, while it is still possible for Gobson to take the +train for Jamaica Plain, you must have one of the servants at the club +hand him this letter, telling him to answer; if he is asked who brought +it, say that it was a messenger. Keep near James when he reads it. He +will immediately leave Barker’s. If he begs you to accompany him you +will go with him; if he does not you must follow him home, and if he +closes his gate behind him you must enter mine, which you will find +open, and wait behind the little gate that connects his place and mine +until I call you. Have you understood me?” + +“Perfectly, sir.” + +“Then return to Gobson quickly, lest he perceive your absence.” + +Harris Burnett hastened back to the club, and William Dow rejoined +Young and Saunders at the table. At eight o’clock he gave the signal +for departure. + +The three friends entered the carriage, and a few moments before nine +Dow introduced the chief of detectives and Saunders into his private +room on the ground floor of his house. There, after begging them to +wait with as much patience as they could, he left them alone and went +up to Miss Jane’s room. The young girl, still pale from her emotion of +the evening before, was with her teacher. + +“My dear child,” said William to her, “I have come to beg you not to go +down to the garden this evening, and whatever sound you may hear not to +stir from your room.” + +Jane turned a look upon her friend so full of anxious affection that he +continued: + +“Fear nothing for me, I run no danger; but there is great need for you +to do what I wish. If I can accomplish, as I hope, the work that is +approaching an end, you yourself will thank me. I can count on you, can +I not, and you, Mrs. Wandright?” + +The governess and her pupil, without asking a question, promised +immediately that they would not leave their room until he gave them +their liberty, and he left them, with an affectionate smile at Miss +Jane, feeling assured that his instructions would be strictly obeyed. + +It had just struck nine. He ran to the gate and opened it. Prompt at +the rendezvous, Ada was waiting for him. + +“Come,” he said to her, and taking her hand he led her to the hall +connecting with his room. Then, from there, without passing the +sleeping-room where Young and Saunders were standing, he took her +into the library. But the door of this room was hardly closed before +a horrible cry was heard--the cry of a woman mad with terror and +despair--and followed by the sound of some one falling to the floor. +Then groans, laments, and sobs followed one another, and silence again +filled that part of the villa so suddenly and strangely disturbed. + +Two hours later William Dow and Young, carrying an inert body, +crossed the garden and ascended the stairs which led to Mrs. Gobson’s +rooms. Reaching her sleeping-room, they placed their burden on the +bed and withdrew. A few moments later they took the same path again, +accompanied this time by Saunders, who seemed deeply moved, and by a +woman enveloped in a large cloak, and who seemed hardly able to support +herself. + +At the same moment a servant handed James Gobson, at Barker’s, a letter +which a messenger had just brought. Excited by losses and wine, Gobson +opened it angrily. It contained a note of two lines and an inclosed +letter. The note, signed Murray, was as follows: + + This is what I have found on your door-step, and as this letter, + which you have lost, may be urgent I send it by a messenger. + +“What does this mean?” asked James. + +But, as he asked this question, he cast his eyes on the envelope, and +immediately became very pale. He read on this envelope, written in a +woman’s hand: + +“Mr. Davis, coroner of the Saint Vincent district of New York.” + +The letter, which he hastened to open, increased his fear still more; +for, without uttering a word, he sprang out of the room, ran down into +the street, and, after giving an address to the coachman, sprang into a +carriage. + +He did not perceive that he was followed by Harris Burnett, who stood +a few steps away when the letter was handed him, and had kept him in +sight every moment. + +Twenty minutes later, Gobson was driving hastily along the avenue, in +Jamaica Plain, but, when he reached his door, he stopped a moment. His +forehead was bathed with an icy sweat; his hideous face expressed an +implacable resolution, and he muttered, with a sinister smile: + +“Oh! no, wretch, you shall not escape thus.” + +All was silent in the villa, and the garden was enveloped in darkness. +When he recovered from his rapid drive, he noiselessly opened his +gate, slipped along the wall as far as his house, entered, and, owing +to the carpet which smothered his footsteps, he softly reached the +threshold of the door of his wife’s apartment. He held a revolver in +his hand; but, as he was about to cross the parlor, he said to himself: + +“No, not thus; some one might hear,” and putting the pistol back in his +pocket, he armed himself with a short, stout dagger, without which he +had not gone out of the house since the attack of which he had nearly +become a victim. + +The door that led from the parlor to the sleeping-room was open. He +soon reached it, and raising the portieres, and although the room +was lighted only by the soft, shaded light of an elaborate lamp, he +recognized Ada, who, lying in her bed, seemed to be in a profound +sleep. Her luxuriant hair rolled down over the lace alabaster-trimmed +pillows beneath her charming head, and one of her bare arms, ornamented +by one of those large gold bracelets with which she was so fond of +decking herself, was gracefully extended on the coverlet. Overcome by +fatigue, she had no doubt forgotten to divest herself of a part of her +jewels, for, from the spot where like a wild beast Gobson was devouring +his prey with glaring eyes, he saw the flash as of a fiery star of one +of the magnificent diamonds in her pretty ears, a present from Saunders. + +The charming tableau was not of a nature to calm his revengeful +feelings. It seemed as if it roused his hatred, for, after a moment’s +hesitation, he sprang forward, and his dagger, with a thrust that +would have pierced the heart of his victim, struck her in the throat, +and the murderer whispered hoarsely: + +“Now, Kitty Bell, you will not speak.” + +But the wretch gave a frightful shriek, and bounded backward. + +His weapon, he did not understand how, had met with resistance, and at +the bedside suddenly rose before his horrified gaze the figure of a +woman in Indian costume, which cried: + +“Assassin! assassin! a second time!” + +“Miss Ada,” screamed Gobson, at this terrible apparition, and with +affrighted eyes, foaming mouth, and convulsed features, his whole being +shuddering with horror and fear, he seized his pistol and fired at the +accusing phantom. + +But his ball, badly aimed, struck the wall above the young woman’s +head, and the murderer had not time to repeat his homicidal attempt, +for, being immediately seized and disarmed by Young and Dow, who sprang +from behind the curtains where they had hidden themselves, he was soon +thrown upon the floor, and made powerless. + +At the same moment a sob was heard. + +Poor Saunders had thrown himself upon this waxen statue, the +faithful image of her he had so much loved, and he said, through his +tears, pressing in his burning hand the icy hand of Albert Moor’s +_chef-d’œuvre_: + +“Poor Ada! poor Ada! I knew that she had not deceived me.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +KITTY BELL’S STORY. + + +If we retrace our steps and enter William Dow’s study when he admitted +Mrs. Gobson, we shall witness a scene which explains how the events +came about which we have just described. + +Ada, absorbed in her love, had just crossed the threshold of this room, +when the man, from whom she expected only smiles, suddenly looked +stern, and drawing back, looked and pointed at the body of a woman +lying on a lounge. + +“Miss Ada, Miss Ada!” cried Mrs. Gobson. + +“You confess, then, Kitty Bell?” said William Dow. + +It was then that the unhappy woman uttered the cry of terror and +despair of which we have spoken, and who, not being able to endure such +emotion, had fallen almost lifeless to the floor. + +At the sound, Young and Saunders rushed from the sleeping-room into the +library. + +Words could not picture the amazement of the cracker-merchant. He at +first sprang toward Mrs. Gobson, as if to help her; but the detective +stopped him, pointing to the lounge where lay the woman of wax, and the +poor man, his face looking wild and discomposed, stood motionless, +wondering which of these two women was his own Ada. + +Fearing that such a shock might be too violent for the ill-balanced +brain of Saunders, William Dow hastened to say: + +“Calm yourself, my friend; the woman you loved is really dead; this +body is only the cast I had made in the secret hope that it would serve +me some day. As for this woman, her strange resemblance to Miss Ada +made her the accomplice of James Gobson; but it is she who will become +our instrument of justice and vengeance.” + +And that the too impressionable Yankee might not longer have under his +eyes the image which fascinated him, he carried it from his sight. + +At this unexpected spectacle, Young manifested no sensibility, but +divining, in spite of his moderate intelligence, that his friend Dow +was going to take his revenge, he gave him a look of admiration. Then +he leaned down to Mrs. Gobson and bore her to a lounge, where, in a few +moments, she began to recover consciousness. + +“Kitty Bell,” said William to her, when he saw that she was in a +condition to understand him, “rouse yourself; your fate is in your own +hands.” + +“Kitty Bell! Why do you call me that name, Mr. Murray?” stammered the +young woman. + +“Because it is your name. My name is William Dow. And look at those +gentlemen--you will recognize them, perhaps.” + +Mrs. Gobson looked alternately at Young and Saunders, and her face, +which had began to resume its rosy coloring, became livid. She knew +that she was lost. + +“Hear these few lines,” resumed the detective, who had drawn from +his pocket-book a sheet of paper covered with printed characters and +manuscript: + + To-day, the twentieth of February, 184--, by us, Armand Rebours, + vicar of the parish of St. Joseph, have been baptized according to + the rites of the Holy Church, Catholic, Apostolic and Roman, Kitty + and Anna Bell, born the thirteenth of this month, twin sisters, and + daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Bell, in presence of these the witnesses: + Jack Howey, Bernard Lowe, godfathers, and Mary Fellen and Lucy + Molden, godmothers. + + (Signed) + + ARMAND REBOURS, Priest. + + EDWARD BERNEY, + Rector of the parish of St. Joseph. + + ROBERT HALL, + Coroner of the said parish. + + New Orleans, June 14, 186--. + +Mrs. Gobson was so overcome she could not speak, but her eyes spoke for +her, and so entreatingly that William Dow continued: + +“You are Kitty Bell, and this wax statue is all that remains of your +sister Anna, whom Gobson murdered, and whose name and place you took +owing to your wonderful resemblance to her.” + +“My sister!” she cried, at this horrible revelation, “my sister. Oh! +gentlemen, you did not think me an accomplice in this frightful crime.” +She had thrown herself on her knees, holding out her hands imploringly +to her judges, and she repeated between her sobs: “No, no; do not +believe it, I entreat you.” + +There was the ring of truth in her prayer, and William himself was +moved by it. He leaned over toward her, raised her and forced her to +seat herself in the arm-chair she had just left, and knowing that tears +are the best sedative, he let her weep a few minutes, then said: + +“I believe you, but you must confess the whole truth, conceal nothing +from us, and afterwards you must obey me.” + +“Do with me as you will, gentlemen,” groaned the weeping woman. “My +poor Anna, I have not heard from her for more than ten years. I thought +she resided in New Orleans with our family, where she met this wretch +who has destroyed my life. Our mother was dead, and our father did not +trouble himself about us. I did not know of Gobson’s marriage. And +it was that infamous man Gobson who married her, and I--I was in his +power, and then I became his wife. Oh! it is horrible. Let me----” + +Saying thus, Kitty Bell struggled in the arms of William Dow and Young, +who stopped her as she was going to jump out of the window. They +carried her into the sleeping-room and laid her on an easy-chair. + +Saunders, who witnessed this scene with an air of amazement impossible +to describe, followed them. A few moments later Mrs. Gobson became a +little calmer, and William Dow having urged her to acquaint him with +the slightest details of her relations with James Gobson, she said, +weeping: + +“I became acquainted with James Gobson hardly six months ago at San +Francisco. I was employed in an establishment where this man was an +habitue. He paid court to me; I was tolerably happy, in spite of the +scenes when he was intoxicated. One day I wished to break off with +him because in an angry fit he wounded me in pulling out one of my +ear-rings, but he apologized so humbly for his rudeness, and took such +good care of me, that I forgave him. Why was I so weak?” + +“Go on, Kitty, don’t forget anything,” said the detective. + +“About a fortnight after this occurrence, he gave me a cup of tea, +and I fell into a strange sleep. It lasted about three or four hours +at least. When I awoke he was near me, looking at me anxiously. ‘You +fainted,’ he said, ‘and in falling you came near killing yourself. +Happily, you are all right now.’ I felt a sharp pain in my mouth. I +put my hand to it and drew it away covered with blood. I sprang to a +looking-glass. A tooth was gone, on the right side. I uttered a cry of +despair and the wretch tried to console me. I had broken a tooth he +declared in slipping against a piece of furniture. This accident caused +me alarm, for I was not subject to fainting turns. But from that moment +Gobson became so gentle, and anxious, and generous, that I did not +express a wish that was not gratified, and I soon forgot the event.” + +“You now understand what his object was.” + +“Oh! yes, the wretch; my poor Anna. We were so alike when we lived +together that father, in order to distinguish us himself, made us wear +velvet bands of different colors around our throats.” + +“Now, as Gobson had torn his wife’s ear and broken out a tooth, the one +who was to replace her must lose a tooth and have a cut on her ear. Go +on; tell about your departure from San Francisco.” + +“We left San Francisco toward the month of November, of last year, and +went to Washington, where I lived in a little country house in complete +retirement. Gobson I did not see for weeks, but after being absent he +showed me much affection, and said, after returning from his journeys, +that he was working for my happiness, and as he wished soon to marry +me, I obeyed. However, I instinctively feared him. I would have liked +to end with him. Such was the state of things when one day in January, +James came to me in a state of exaltation which frightened me. What he +said to me then, oh! I do not believe I could reveal.” + +“You must; your testimony is indispensable,” said William Dow, sternly; +“for your fate depends on your frankness in telling what else you can +make known. Besides, do you not wish to avenge your sister?” + +“Yes, yes; I must,” answered Kitty, raising her head, that she had +concealed in her hands, and, speaking hurriedly, she continued: + +“He told me about a woman whom I resembled in so extraordinary a manner +that every one took me for her. Her name was Ada Ricard. A Colonel +Forster was in love with her. With audacity and coolness I could pass +for her. He himself would take me to this colonel, who had promised him +quite a large sum. + +“‘Mr. Forster,’ he added, ‘hardly knows Miss Ada; his error will be +complete; he will adore you, and as he is rich and generous, you will +have all you wish.’ It was horrible, but it was a chance to get away +from Gobson, who alarmed me, and I consented. He gave me even the +slightest details about Ada Ricard’s life, for he learned them from +some one who lived in her house; finally he taught me to play the part. +I held myself in readiness and one morning we set out for New York, +where we arrived during the night. He procured lodgings for me in a +house which I should not recognize again, for although we went on foot, +it was in a dense fog. I think it was in a horrible neighborhood and +that the streets were narrow and muddy. The river was about two hundred +steps beyond. After locking the door of my room and providing me with +the necessary provisions, he left me alone in this house all the next +day. It was Tuesday, I remember, and he came back at about two o’clock +in the morning and brought a bundle, which he opened before me. It +contained the costume of an Indian woman in the time of the Incas. He +bade me put it on. I then had a gloomy presentiment, for Gobson was +pale and much more moved than he wished to appear. But he said to me +in so threatening a tone, ‘Let us have done quickly; it was in this +disguise that Miss Ada was carried off, and you must go to Colonel +Forster dressed as she was.’ I was afraid, and did not dare ask what +had become of the woman whose place I was to take. I dressed as Gobson +ordered me and according to his directions. He had foreseen everything +at each of the colonel’s stopping-places. I was to send him word, with +the initials ‘A. Z.,’ to Baltimore immediately, and announce my return +in the same manner. If anything happened to him I must, on returning +to New York, boldly present myself at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street, +where I should find a woman, Mary, who would recognize me as Miss Ada.” + +Kitty Bell spoke the name of her sister with so much emotion that sobs +choked her voice. + +After leaving her a moment to recover, William Dow ordered her to +continue her story. + +“This servant,” continued the young woman, weeping, “was the accomplice +of that wretch. All passed as Gobson had arranged. As soon as I was +ready he made me cross the river and meet Colonel Forster, who had not +the least suspicion of my identity. When I reached Baltimore I learned +the mysterious crime through the papers. I understood it thus, but +I was afraid to confess the truth, and I acknowledge that, maddened +at being duped and in the power of James Gobson, I wished to play my +part to the end to avenge myself on him. If it had not been for the +accident to the hangman, Meyer, I should have been late enough not to +have seen him. I knew what day had been fixed for the execution, and +that is why I did not return to New York until the hour when I thought +all over. But fate decided it should be otherwise, and that I must save +the wretch from the gallows. You know the rest; but I swear to you, +on my eternal salvation--oh! however low I may have fallen, I should +not dare to be false in swearing this--I swear to you that when I was +forced to escape from Gobson by means of Colonel Forster, I did not +know that Miss Ada had been murdered, and only here in this room have I +learned that Gobson’s victim was his wife and that she was my sister, +my unhappy Anna. Now, do with me as you will; deliver me up to justice; +kill me or let me die.” + +“No, Kitty Bell, you shall not die, and the law will be indulgent +toward you; why, you must help us to punish the guilty.” + +“I obey your commands.” + +“The costume of an Indian woman in which you deceived a lover of Ada +Ricard, you must once more wear, in order that we may attack the guilty +man.” + +Saying this, the detective drew from a chest a dress absolutely like +that worn by Ada Ricard the night she was carried away, and while Kitty +Bell was dressing, with the aid of Young he transported the wax statue +to Mrs. Gobson’s bed. + +The reader is familiar with the subsequent movements, and let us now +return to the room where we left James Gobson in the hands of Young and +William Dow. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +WHARF 32. + + +Harris Burnett, who was merely an agent sent by Kelly, by order of +William Dow, had exactly followed the latter’s instructions. In spite +of the courage and strength of the captain and detective, he reinforced +them none too soon, for Gobson, mad with anger, was becoming difficult +to hold. He foamed at the mouth, gave horrible shrieks, poured out the +most frightful curses upon his wife and rolled upon the floor, and, +for lack of other weapons, used his teeth like a wild beast. However, +his three adversaries succeeded in mastering him, and he was so firmly +bound and gagged that he could have been left alone without danger. As +for Kitty Bell, she sank sobbing on the bed. + +“Madam,” said William Dow, “I am obliged to arrest you, but I renew the +promise I made you. I shall speak to the judges about you in a manner +to render them as indulgent as possible, on account of your frankness +and the services you have rendered.” + +“Ah! do as you will with me, sir,” answered the young woman. + +“Mr. Young will accompany you to my house, that you may resume your +own dress, and he will afterwards bring you here, where you will rest a +few hours. We will go to New York by the first train in the morning.” + +Mrs. Gobson obediently took Young’s arm, for without this support she +could hardly have sustained herself, and left the room without daring +to look back. + +As for Saunders, his love for Miss Ada had returned, and kneeling +beside her bed he was still weeping. William Dow forced him to rise, +and led him to the boudoir, in order to take him as much as possible +from his sad memories, by keeping him from the statue which so cruelly +reminded him of the past. + +The captain and Mrs. Gobson returned about a quarter of an hour +later. The young woman sank exhausted on an arm-chair, hiding her +face in both hands. It was a singular tableau which this elegant and +mysterious sleeping-room presented, now transformed into a field of +combat; and he, whose intelligence had so quickly made it the theatre +of his justice, glanced around it with just pride. On one side sat Mrs. +Gobson, perhaps weeping more for her vanished dreams than for her dread +of reality; on the other, reduced to powerlessness, the wretch who had +been conquered by the same weapons he had made use of. + +“Burnett,” said William Dow to the agent, after a few moments’ silence, +“watch this man. We will return in a moment.” + +And then, leaving the prisoner and his wife in the care of the chief +of detectives, William and Burnett raised the woman of wax and carried +her into the adjoining villa, and placed her on the same lounge where +Kitty Bell first saw her. + +“Now, Young,” said William Dow to his friend, “return to Gobson, and in +a few moments I will join you.” + +The captain obeyed, and the detective went up to see Miss Jane. The +young girl was pale and trembling, as well as her governess, for she +wondered if anything had happened to her friend, having heard the +pistol-shot in the next house. On perceiving him she gave a cry of joy +and threw herself into his arms. + +“Come, my dear child,” he said, “and you, too, Mrs. Wandright; I have +an explanation to make.” + +And preceding the teacher and her pupil, who followed him without +understanding what it was all about, he led them into his study. At +sight of the wax figure on the lounge, Miss Jane stepped back. + +“Do not be afraid,” said William Dow, taking her hand, “but come and +look at her. Here, Jane, is the Mrs. Gobson whom you saw here one day +when curiosity tempted you. It is only the statue of Miss Ada Ricard, +the victim of the mysterious murder whose author I discovered.” + +Ashamed to find that William Dow had learned what jealousy had caused +her to do, the pretty child hung her head, blushing, but gave her +friend a happy, grateful look, murmuring, “Forgive me,” and her friend +returned it with a smile and affectionate caress. + +Having informed Miss Jane and her governess that he should be absent +a few days, Mr. Dow begged them to go up to their rooms and he joined +Young and Burnett. They had dragged James Gobson up against the wall, +and for humanity’s sake had slipped a cushion under his head. The +wretch was foaming at the mouth and his eyes glared, but he did not try +to cry out or to combat with them. + +The captain and agent watched him in turn that night, and at daybreak +William Dow hastened to the chief of police at Boston to inform him of +what had passed, and to ask his aid in order to convey the prisoner to +New York without further delay. + +This officer, who had faith in our hero, immediately gave the necessary +orders, and toward noon, without the same being made known at Jamaica +Plain, for Young had given orders to the servants in the house, James +Gobson was conveyed on the railroad under charge of Burnett and two +agents from Boston who had joined him. + +The assassin was calmer, but what they knew of his past led his guards +to mistrust him. They kept handcuffs on him, telling him that at the +first cry, or attempt at rebellion, they would tie his legs and gag him +again. + +Young took a seat in a car reserved for him with Mrs. Gobson, who was +resigned to her fate, and William Dow, after telegraphing to Kelly, +seated himself with Saunders, whose mind was again off the balance. + +The journey was marked by no incident, and at eight o’clock that same +day all the characters of our story reached New York. + +The first face William Dow espied on the wharf was the expansive one +of Fat Kelly, who was accompanied by Mortimer and Davis, who had been +notified. It is useless to say how these gentlemen greeted the skilful +detective. James Gobson was captured--that was the most important fact; +but they were eager to know the details of his capture, and they plied +William Dow with questions. + +“Pardon, gentlemen,” said the latter, “we must first attend to the +prisoner, or prisoners; we will talk afterwards.” + +James Gobson did not attempt resistance, but it would be impossible to +describe the look he gave his wife. She could hardly stand, and had to +be carried into the waiting-room. + +The assassin, after having his identity proved, entered a carriage +waiting for him, and Mr. Kelly ordered Young to take him at once to +Blackwell’s Island, where he was to be imprisoned until he was called +before the criminal court a second time. + +The worthy Saunders did not know what to make of it when William Dow +said to him: + +“My dear sir, return home, resume business, and think of this tragedy +only as a bad dream, until the law has need of you again. But before +then I shall come and see you.” And clasping the hand that with a sigh +was held out to him, he joined Kelly, Davis, and Mortimer, who were +impatiently waiting for him. + +It was decided that owing to Mrs. Gobson’s exhausted condition and the +services that she had rendered the cause of justice, that she should +have comparative liberty, but under the surveillance of the two agents, +and she had already left for No. 17 East Twenty-third Street. + +Everything being settled thus, Mr. Kelly quickly went with William Dow +to the central office. He was eager, as well as Mortimer and Davis, to +know the whole story and all the details. + +William Dow told them from beginning to end, and then said to Kelly, +who was almost shaking his hands off: + +“Well, have I done right--have I kept my promise?” + +“You are a splendid man, my dear Dow,” he answered. “How the devil came +you to have your suspicions? You can tell me now.” + +“Certainly; besides, nothing is simpler or less mysterious. I must +first confess that I had in my possession a certain report of your +rival, Robertson which contained precious information. Ah! his agents +are keen and smart.” + +“It is no more trouble for them to be so than for that great blockhead, +Young,” observed Mr. Kelly, shrugging his shoulders. + +“I agree with you. Well,” continued Dow, “and while in yours, trace of +Miss Ada was lost in her entrance to Yorkville, in that of Robertson, +on the contrary, they mention her as being in Colonel Forster’s yacht, +at Staten Island, three days before the body of the drowned woman was +found at Shakespeare’s tavern. Saunders told me that a boat, in which +were the Colonel and Miss Ada, had been run down and capsized, and that +the latter was drowned; but I questioned the best seamen in the harbor, +and I myself made experiments with floating objects, and while learning +about submarine currents I obtained the almost complete certainty that +a human body could not be carried in so short a time from Staten Island +to the top of the river. Besides, nothing was less certain than the +fatal consequences of the accident of which Saunders accused himself. +I concluded from that that either Miss Ada was not drowned at Staten +Island; or, that if she had perished on these shores, her body could +not have been brought by the current to Wharf 32. Therefore the woman +who was in Forster’s yawl was not Miss Ada, although Robertson’s agent, +who had her photograph--the only one Saunders possessed--might have +recognized her on board the Gleam, unless there were two women on the +yacht; but the colonel talked of only one, the Miss Ada whom he carried +off.” + +“This is well reasoned,” said the officers. + +“There was then, either with Colonel Forster or drowned at Staten +Island, a woman who was or was not Miss Ada, at the very moment when +at the bottom of East River was lying a woman who was soon also to be +recognized as Miss Ada Ricard. This coincidence was too strange and +complete, and improbable, not to lead me at once to think that I had +found an absolutely planned crime, a substitution of persons. Now, as +we could not substitute an Ada dead for an Ada living, for what would +have been the object, it was for an Ada dead that a living Ada had been +substituted.” + +“Very true, Mr. Dow, very true,” said the magistrates, bowing before +this logic. + +“This first reasoning,” continued the detective, “naturally led me to +suppose that it was really Gobson, the jealous husband, who had taken +a woman to Colonel Forster, but not Miss Ada, his wife. It must be +another woman, and since I admitted that he was the man who took her +off he must also be the assassin. + +“As for the hour when the crime was committed, nothing was easier +to certify; it was in the carriage itself, for in the boat in which +James Gobson crossed the East River was but one woman, and that woman +was living. The officer on watch on the Liberia heard a cry when the +steamer came near running it down. What Kitty Bell told me later proved +to me that I had reasoned justly, and fixed the place and moment of the +crime. Gobson smothered his victim in the carriage, and if he spoke +the words reported by the driver Katters it is nothing astonishing; +for his cunning and skill we know very well. He wished that this man +might some day affirm, if necessary, that Miss Ada was living when +she left the carriage, but she was dead. Kitty Bell waiting for James +Gobson in a house at Yorkville, the murderer would never have committed +the blunder of carrying into the house a living woman who might have +screamed, called for help or betrayed her presence, and make the one +who was to take her place fear that she was becoming the accomplice +of a murderer. But the dead Ada he murdered at his ease, took off her +jewels, excepting the gold bracelet, which he found among the Sioux, +and which one of those Indians, no doubt, picked up on the young +woman’s door-step, as it probably fell off when she was carried away; +then, having done this, Gobson dressed Kitty Bell in his victim’s +dress, and took her to Forster as Miss Ada, and when he returned he had +accomplished the last act in his tragedy. That is to say, he took away +the corpse, embarked with it again and threw it in the water, after +fastening to it the barrel of tar which he found in his boat, or which +he stole, it matters little. When, later, after escaping the gallows in +spite of Kitty Bell, who would have been delighted to have him hanged, +James Gobson married that woman, it was both to have his share of Miss +Ada’s fortune and to make sure of the silence of his accomplice. Mrs. +Gobson could not denounce her husband without destroying herself. This +marriage of itself would have sufficed to awaken my suspicions; was it +like a woman to do what the one supposed to be Mrs. Gobson did? Miss +Ada would have let her husband be hanged, for she feared him, and if +she had saved him she would never have become his wife. Between Gobson +who would have remembered, and Saunders who asked only to be forgiven, +she would not have hesitated. This, gentlemen, was how it happened; you +know the rest.” + +“You are an astonishing detective, my dear Dow,” cried Fat Kelly, in +the utmost enthusiasm. + +“That is perhaps saying a great deal,” said William, smiling; “but what +is more certain, is that I am a man, and being such I can do no more. I +will ask you and these gentlemen, therefore, for permission to go home. +It is forty-eight hours since I have been in bed.” + +“Certainly, my friend. Only one word more. Since you knew all this, why +did you not simply arrest Gobson instead of taking the trouble to bring +about that dramatic episode at Jamaica Plain?” + +“Dear Mr. Kelly, I will explain to you, but I am sure that Mr. Mortimer +and Davis, who are lawyers, have already divined my reason.” + +The two magistrates smilingly bowed, and the detective continued: + +“Acquitted and reinstated by the criminal court, Gobson could no longer +be pursued for the same crime, evident as his culpability might become, +and had he even confessed all. Now, I, William Dow, had sworn that this +man should be punished for murdering Miss Ada, and I made him murder +her a second time. By striking that wax statue, which he took for his +wife, James Gobson made himself guilty of an attempt to murder, the +effect of which was destroyed only by a circumstance independent of +his will. He, then, is under the jurisdiction of the criminal court, +and, as I wished, the murder was really attempted upon Miss Ada. Do you +understand now?” + +“My God, my dear friend,” said the chief of police, “I am only a +blockhead like that stupid Young while you, you----” + +“I only kept my promise to you and the vow I made to myself.” + +Mr. Mortimer and Davis joined their thanks and congratulations to those +of Kelly, and knowing that William Dow needed rest, they gave him his +liberty. + +The next day, as will be understood, nothing else was talked of in New +York but the new arrest of James Gobson; for the papers, being covertly +informed by order of the chief of police, could completely satisfy the +curiosity of their readers by relating to them the smallest details of +the events that had happened at Boston. + +The mystery with which the murder had been enveloped was at last +unveiled; this horrible crime was going to be punished. The public +conscience was satisfied, and Kelly, who since James Gobson’s discharge +had lost so much ground with his electors, was in the way to become a +great man. For, although all had been told about the tragedy at Jamaica +Plain, the name of William Dow had remained a secret; the latter +exacted it from motives best known to himself. + +Only the political adversaries of the chief of police were in despair, +and the head of the agency of Robertson Brothers & Co., who was up for +Congress, found that he had no chance for success owing to the sudden +change in affairs. + +Kelly’s partisans profited so well by the event, as the election day +approached, that the victory of Mr. Kelly became more certain. + +During this time Mr. Davis and Mortimer were preparing the case +of James Gobson, who was still in prison at Blackwell’s Island, +and awaiting to be transferred to the Tombs, a few days before his +appearance before the jury. He had completely broken down, losing all +that bravado and assumed indifference which so cunningly characterized +him at his previous incarceration for the murder of Miss Ada Ricard. + +Kitty Bell renewed her confessions before the examining magistrates, +and a hearing had been appointed for the day after election, when one +morning Captain Young plunged like an avalanche into Kelly’s office, +crying: + +“Oh! Mr. Kelly, Mr. Kelly, such a misfortune has happened!” + +“What is it?--what is it?” asked Kelly. + +“James Gobson is drowned!” + +“Drowned! What do you mean?” + +“Yes, drowned. Just as he was crossing the planking at Blackwell’s +Island to enter the government boat to come to the Tombs, he pushed +against the guards and leaped into the water, dragging one of the +unhappy men after him.” + +“And did that man also disappear?” + +“No; fortunately he was saved, but they could not fish up Gobson.” + +“That is a pity, for I should really have taken pleasure in seeing +him at the end of a rope; but what can be done? Has the river been +searched?” + +“They are still working at it.” + +“Well, let them continue to search, and if the rascal’s body is found, +let it be sent to Bellevue Hospital, to Dr. O’Neel. It will at least +be of some use after his death.” + +Having said this, Kelly dismissed the captain, who did not understand +the philosophy with which his chief took James Gobson’s death. The +officer immediately reflected as follows: That the assassin would +have made revelations to his judges that would have brought to notice +William Dow, and would have lessened the role of Kelly. He was +therefore delighted that the accused had disappeared. + +Kitty Bell, it is true, remained, but he knew that by promising +her the indulgence of the court she would say only what he wished. +Nevertheless, at the news of this suicide, the disappointment was +general, and the opponents of Mr. Kelly tried to profit by it, but the +movement was started in his favor, and election day for Mr. Kelly was +one of triumph. + +William Dow was in the latter’s office when they came to tell him the +result of the voting. He was elected with twenty thousand votes more +than at the last time. The effect of this announcement upon Mr. Kelly +can well be imagined. + +“To you I owe this victory, my dear friend,” he said to the detective, +embracing him with enthusiasm; “how can I prove my gratitude to you for +all this?” + +“By giving me the first possible opportunity to make myself useful,” +answered William, with a sad smile, “for in attending to your affairs I +also attend to my own.” + +“Oh, yes; that mystery in your life, a mystery in which the pretty and +charming Miss Jane must play a part. When will you have confidence and +friendship enough for me to judge me worthy of being your confidant?” + +“Some time, my dear Kelly, some time. Jane has gone to New York with +her governess, but I wish to have her take a trip, for she is ill. +I will tell you some day what terrible tie attaches me to this dear +child, for whom I would give my life, and whom I make suffer, alas, +from a malady which to any one else would be an immense joy, for it +might cure her.” + +Greatly puzzled at these words, spoken so sadly, Mr. Kelly was about, +perhaps, to beg for the key to the riddle, when, after knocking, +Captain Young appeared. + +“Sir,” said the captain to his chief, after shaking hands with his +visitor, “they have just found James Gobson’s body.” + +“Ah!” said the officer; “where?” + +“Under Wharf 32, opposite Shakespeare’s tavern.” + +“Under Wharf 32,” cried William Dow. “Well, my dear friends, was I +not right in stating that Ada Ricard’s body had been thrown into the +water at Blackwell’s Island, and on that side of the river. One would +say that Heaven itself wished to furnish the proof of my theories. +Having fallen into the water near the spot where he threw his wife, +James Gobson--and observe, after the same interval of time--James +Gobson reappeared just there where the corpse of the unhappy woman was +discovered, under Wharf 32.” + +“This is, indeed, truly wonderful,” exclaimed Kelly. + +As for Young, he could not find a word to express his thoughts; only +his looks plainly said that his former admiration for the intelligent +detective had become enthusiasm. + +A few days after this conversation, Kitty Bell appeared alone before +the criminal court, for the maid Mary, supposed to be Gobson’s +accomplice, could not be found. Kitty Bell was simply convicted of +complicity in the kidnapping, and her judges, aware of the services she +had rendered in the cause of justice, condemned her to only a year’s +imprisonment. She received her sentence with utter composure, having +determined to submit to the decree of the court, whatever it might be, +without any show of feeling that he whom she had so dearly loved might +detect. + +Ada, or rather Anna Bell’s fortune went to her father, who was still +living. + +Six months later, Kitty Bell, at Mr. Kelly’s request, was released, and +entered a cafe in New York, where she made her fortune in less than a +year. + +Then her success on the other side of the ocean led the still pretty +Mrs. Gobson to try her fortune in Paris, where we met her at the house +of the leader of the opera bouffe, who came near engaging her. She +would evidently have been a great attraction, but the impressario did +not dare risk the adventure, and the beautiful American disappeared. +Perhaps she will yet meet our stout friend, Mr. Saunders, who, after +keeping the Woman of Wax at his house several weeks, one day sacrificed +it for the benefit of Barnum’s Museum. + +William Dow remained the true friend and aid of Mr. Kelly, until an +event occurred in his life which we may some day narrate--an event +which enabled him to finally take his place in society, which a +horrible adventure, followed by a promise, made him abandon. + + +THE END. + + + + +The Name of + +Street & Smith + +on a publication is + + _A GUARANTEE + OF GOODNESS_ + + That’s why + everybody buys them + in preference + to others. + +Insist on getting Street & Smith’s. The Right Books at the Right Price + +For sale by all up-to-date newsdealers + + IF YOUR DEALER DON’T SELL THEM, + GO TO THE MAN THAT DOES + + + + +[Illustration] + +I think every man I see uses R·I·P·A·N·S. + +Mr. Barry, our manager, takes one after every meal and so does his +father and sister. The old gentleman has rheumatism if he don’t take +R·I·P·A·N·S. They use twelve a day in that house. + +About half the people I know carry one of those 5-cent cartons all the +time in their vest pockets. + +I was in the Bowery Savings Bank to draw some money, and while I was +waiting in the line a clerk came up to the paying teller and said: +“Give me a Ripans!” The teller took a carton out of his pocket and +handed it to the clerk, who took out one of the Tabules and handed the +carton back. Then I watched him and saw him go to the water cooler and +swallow the Tabule with some water; I saw him tip his head back. + +It’s just wonderful how everybody takes them. + + WANTED:--A case of bad health that R·I·P·A·N·S will not benefit. Send + five cents to Ripans Chemical Co., No. 10 Spruce Street, New York, + for 10 samples and 1,000 testimonials. R·I·P·A·N·S, 10 for 5 cents, + or 12 packets for 48 cents, may be had of all druggists who are + willing to sell a standard medicine at a moderate profit. They banish + pain and prolong life. One gives relief. Note the word R·I·P·A·N·S on + the packet. Accept no substitute. + + + + +[Illustration] + +A Roman Incident + +[Illustration] + +Says Marcus Aurelius to Fabius Coralus: + +“It’s a pity we couldn’t have lived in the nineteenth century instead +of the first.” + +“Why,” says Fabius, “we have about all that makes life pleasant as it +is.” + +“Oh, no,” replied Marcus. “We are favored well, ’tis true; but just +compare the expense of buying a novel written by hand on a papyrus roll +with the ten-cent novels of Street & Smith, to say nothing of the fact +that they would be so much handier to carry around and easier on the +eyes to read.” + +“True,” said Fabius, “that’s where the nineteenth century people have +got a great thing, and they ought to appreciate it. I wish I had one of +those good novels of theirs to read right now.” + + + + +[Illustration] + +Suffering more or less after eating a meal, I consulted a doctor, and +he told me I ate too much veal and pork. Once at a banquet I noticed a +certain doctor taking a tablet, and was told it was a Ripans Tabule, so +I started to use them, and now I find that I can eat anything without +fear. I am glad to recommend Ripans Tabules at all times. + + WANTED:--A case of bad health that R·I·P·A·N·S will not benefit. Send + five cents to Ripans Chemical Co., No. 10 Spruce Street, New York, + for 10 samples and 1,000 testimonials. R·I·P·A·N·S, 10 for 5 cents, + or 12 packets for 48 cents, may be had of all druggists who are + willing to sell a standard medicine at a moderate profit. They banish + pain and prolong life. One gives relief. Note the word R·I·P·A·N·S on + the packet. Accept no substitute. + + + + +A specially good list of + +DETECTIVE STORIES + +Are those by + +Barclay North + +In + +Street & Smith’s Magnet Library + +at the Right Price, 10c. + + _No. 90. On the Rack_ + _No. 94. Vivier_ + _No. 100. The Diamond Button_ + +Realizing the merit of Mr. North’s work, we have purchased all of his +works, and propose to issue them at short intervals in the Magnet +Library. We are maintaining the highest possible standard for the +Magnet as for all our other series. If you want the best detective +stories ever written, you will find them _only_ in Street & Smith’s +Magnet Library. + + + STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS + NEW YORK + + + + +[Illustration] + +Have you ever used Ripans Tabules? + +Yes, indeed! and they are perfectly splendid. Haven’t you noticed that +I have red cheeks nowadays? Well, that comes from using Ripans. + + WANTED:--A case of bad health that R·I·P·A·N·S will not benefit. Send + five cents to Ripans Chemical Co., No. 10 Spruce Street, New York, + for 10 samples and 1,000 testimonials. R·I·P·A·N·S, 10 for 5 cents, + or 12 packets for 48 cents, may be had of all druggists who are + willing to sell a standard medicine at a moderate profit. They banish + pain and prolong life. One gives relief. Note the word R·I·P·A·N·S on + the packet. Accept no substitute. + + + + +A Well-dressed Face + + +Perhaps you like that yellow moustache, but we are sure your friends do +not. + +Perhaps you think your gray whiskers don’t tell how old you are, but +they do. + +Perhaps you have never noticed how a beautiful brown or rich black adds +to the moustache or whiskers, but we have. + +Perhaps you would like a natural brown or black dye for your whiskers +and moustache, one that defies detection. + +Perhaps you don’t know that + + A beautiful brown or a rich black always follows the use of + + Buckingham’s Dye + +It isn’t a brown or black today, and then some miserable color +tomorrow. When dyed once it is dyed to stay. Two, or three bottles at +most, will keep the beard and moustache colored for a whole year. You +are the only one aware of it when you use + + +Buckingham’s + + If your druggist cannot supply you, send 50 cents to + R. P. HALL & CO., Nashua, N. H. + + + + +THE BEST-KNOWN SERIES OF DETECTIVE STORIES IN THE WORLD + +are those of + +Nicholas Carter + + +The only publishers who issue them are STREET & SMITH, and they are to +be found in the + +[Illustration: Magnet Library + +at THE RIGHT PRICE + +TEN CENTS] + + +For the benefit of the many admirers of these grand books, we give +herewith a complete list of titles and numbers up to date (November 1, +1899), meanwhile we add a new book to the list every third week + + Accidental Password, An Magnet No. 53 + American Marquis, The ” ” 7 + Among the Counterfeiters ” ” 39 + Among the Nihilists ” ” 43 + At Odds with Scotland Yard ” ” 49 + At Thompson’s Ranch ” ” 56 + Australian Klondike, An ” ” 8 + Bite of an Apple, A, and Other Stories ” ” 105 + Caught in the Toils ” ” 14 + Chance Discovery, A ” ” 19 + Check No. 777 ” ” 46 + Clever Celestial, A ” ” 75 + Crescent Brotherhood, The ” ” 83 + Crime of a Countess, The ” ” 5 + Dead Man’s Grip, A ” ” 85 + Deposit Vault Puzzle, A ” ” 21 + Detective’s Pretty Neighbor, and Other + Stories ” ” 89 + Diamond Mine Case, The ” ” 71 + Double Shuffle Club, The ” ” 68 + Evidence by Telephone ” ” 23 + Fair Criminal, A ” ” 62 + Fighting Against Millions ” ” 11 + Found on the Beach ” ” 65 + Gamblers’ Syndicate, The ” ” 18 + Gideon Drexel’s Millions ” ” 99 + Great Enigma, The ” ” 2 + Great Money Order Swindle, The ” ” 91 + Harrison Keith, Detective ” ” 93 + Klondike Claim, A ” ” 1 + Man from India, The ” ” 50 + Millionaire Partner, A ” ” 59 + Mysterious Mail Robbery, The ” ” 13 + Nick Carter and the Green Goods Man ” ” 87 + Old Detective’s Pupil, The ” ” 10 + Piano Box Mystery, The ” ” 17 + Playing a Bold Game ” ” 12 + Puzzle of Five Pistols, The, and Other + Stories ” ” 97 + Queer Case, A ” ” 103 + Sealed Orders ” ” 95 + Sign of the Crossed Knives, The ” ” 79 + Stolen Identity, A ” ” 9 + Stolen Pay Train, The, and Other + Stories ” ” 101 + Titled Counterfeiter, A ” ” 3 + Tracked Across the Atlantic ” ” 4 + Two Plus Two ” ” 73 + Van Alstine Case, The ” ” 77 + Wall Street Haul, A ” ” 6 + Wanted by Two Clients ” ” 81 + Woman’s Hand, A ” ” 16 + +ANY of the above-mentioned books can be obtained from nearly all +newsdealers at 10 cents per copy. Patronize the dealer if you can--if +not send 10 cents direct to the publishers. + + + STREET & SMITH, 238 William St, New York + + + + +A. Conan Doyle + +_It were superfluous to say more in regard to the achievements of this +great story writer than to allude to the perfect clamor of critical +congratulation which greets every new production of his pen._ + + +Now Offered 10 Cents + +_in the Arrow Library_ + + +_The White Company_ + + “This is a romance of the days of chivalry in Merrie England. For + vivid description, trenchant wit and historical glamour, we have read + nothing to equal it since ‘Ivanhoe.’” + +_The Firm of Girdlestone_ + + “A startingly realistic novel of the world of business in the + metropolis of the universe, London. It is a fascinating book.” + +_A Study in Scarlet_ + + “In this weird book the reader first meets that most fascinating and + incomprehensible character, Sherlock Holmes, the detective. One had + heard of him so much before, it is like renewing an old and loved + acquaintance.” + +_Beyond the City_ + + “A simple recital of tragedy and mystery in English family life. + Written in the same style as this author’s other delightful stories + of Sherlock Holmes. ‘Beyond the City’ possesses the magnetism which + obliges complete perusal once the opening chapter is read.” + +_At the Sign of the Four_ + + “Herewith we behold again the wonderful detective work of Sherlock + Holmes in the tracing of crimes and criminals. Beyond question, he is + the greatest detective creation of any time or language. The story is + simply irresistible.” + + +_For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postage free, on +receipt of price, by the publishers_ + + +STREET & SMITH, New York + + + + +A PARTIAL LIST + +... OF ... + +STREET & SMITH’S BOOKS + +Including those published at 10 CENTS in the + + _Eagle, Arrow, Magnet, + Medal, Columbia, Historical + and Alliance Libraries_ + + _Classified alphabetically by authors for + the better convenience of our patrons._ + + _For sale by all newsdealers, or post-paid, + from the publishers at 10c. each._ + +[Illustration] + + + STREET & SMITH, Publishers + 238 William Street, New York + + +ADAMS, O. L. + + Detective’s Clew, The. Magnet No. 66. 10c. + + +ALLEN, GRANT + + In All Shades. Arrow No. 22. 10c. + + +AUGUSTA, CLARA + + Nobody’s Daughter. Eagle No. 127. 10c. + + +BARRETT, FRANK + + Great Hesper, The. Arrow No. 31. 10c. + + +BARRIE, J. M. + + Little Minister, The. Eagle No. 96. 10c. + Also a better edition. (Illustrated), Drama No. 34. 25c. + Also in cloth. (Six illustrations), 50c. + + +BELOT, ADOLPHE + + Tragedy of the Rue de la Paix, The. Arrow No. 32. 10c. + + +BOURGET, PAUL + + Living Lie, A. Arrow No. 8. 10c. + + +BULLEN, FRANK T. + + Cruise of the Cachalot. Arrow No. 78. 10c. + + +BURGESS, NEIL + + County Fair, The. Eagle No. 60. 10c. + + +CAFFYN, MANNINGTON, author of “A Yellow Aster.” + + Miss Milne and I. Arrow No. 44. 10c. + + +CAINE, HALL + + Bondman, The. Arrow No. 73. 10c. + She’s All the World to Me. Arrow No. 2. 10c. + + +CAMERON, MRS. EMILY LOVETT + + Worth Winning. Arrow No. 52. 10c. + + +CARTER, NICHOLAS + + Accidental Password, An. Magnet No. 53. 10c. + American Marquis, The. ” 7. ” + Among the Counterfeiters. ” 39. ” + Among the Nihilists. ” 43. ” + At Odds with Scotland Yard. ” 49. ” + At Thompson’s Ranch. ” 56. ” + Australian Klondike, An. ” 8. ” + Caught in the Toils. ” 14. ” + Chance Discovery, A. ” 19. ” + Check No 777. ” 46. ” + Clever Celestial, A. ” 75. ” + Crescent Brotherhood, The. ” 83. ” + Crime of a Countess, The. ” 5. ” + Dead Man’s Grip, A. ” 85. ” + Deposit Vault Puzzle, A. ” 21. ” + Detective’s Pretty Neighbor and Other Stories ” 89. ” + Diamond Mine Case, The. ” 71. ” + Double Shuffle Club, The. ” 68. ” + Evidence by Telephone. ” 23. ” + Fair Criminal, A. ” 62. ” + Fighting Against Millions. ” 11. ” + Found on the Beach. ” 65. ” + Gambler’s Syndicate, The. ” 18. ” + Gideon Drexel’s Millions. ” 99. ” + Great Enigma, The. ” 2. ” + Great Money Order Swindle, The. ” 91. ” + Harrison Keith, Detective ” 93. ” + Klondike Claim, A. ” 1. ” + Man from India, The. ” 50. ” + Millionaire Partner, A. ” 59. ” + Mysterious Mail Robbery, The. ” 13. ” + Nick Carter and the Green Goods Man. ” 87. ” + Old Detective’s Pupil, The. ” 10. ” + Piano Box Mystery, The. ” 17. ” + Playing a Bold Game. ” 12. ” + Puzzle of Five Pistols, The, and Other Stories. ” 97. ” + Sealed Orders. ” 95. ” + Sign of the Crossed Knives, The. ” 79. ” + Stolen Identity, A. ” 9. ” + Titled Counterfeiter, A. ” 3. ” + Tracked Across the Atlantic. ” 4. ” + Two Plus Two. ” 73. ” + Van Alstine Case, The. ” 77. ” + Wall Street Haul, A. ” 6. ” + Wanted by Two Clients. ” 81. ” + Woman’s Hand, A. ” 16. ” + + +CLAY, BERTHA M. + + Another Man’s Wife. Eagle No. 48. 10c. + Another Woman’s Husband. Eagle No. 42. 10c. + Between Two Hearts. Eagle No. 84. 10c. + Fair but Faithless. Eagle No. 102. 10c. + For a Woman’s Honor. Eagle No. 4. 10c. + Gipsy’s Daughter, The. Eagle No. 11. 10c. + Gladys Greye. Eagle No. 59. 10c. + Heart’s Bitterness, A. Eagle No. 109. 10c. + Heart’s Idol, A. Eagle No. 21. 10c. + Ideal Love, An. Eagle No. 119. 10c. + In Love’s Crucible. Eagle No. 70. 10c. + Marjorie Deane. Eagle No. 79. 10c. + ’Twixt Love and Hate. Eagle No. 95. 10c. + Violet Lisle. Eagle No. 14. 10c. + + +CLEMENS, WILL M. + + Life of Admiral Dewey, The. Historical No. 7. 10c. + + +COBB, C. W. + + The Mountaineer Detective. Magnet No. 40. 10c. + + +COBB, SYLVANUS, Jr. + + Ben Hamed. Columbia No. 18. 10c. + Golden Eagle, The. ” 19. 10c. + King’s Talisman, The. ” 21. 10c. + Yankee Champion, The. Eagle No. 78. 10c. + + +COLLINS, WILKIE + + My Lady’s Money. Arrow No. 58. 10c. + + +COMFORT, LUCY RANDALL + + Cecile’s Marriage. Eagle No. 121. 10c. + Widowed Bride, The. Eagle No. 86. 10c. + + +CORELLI, MARIE + + Ardath, Vol. I. Arrow No. 26. 10c. + Ardath. Vol. II. ” 27. ” + Romance of Two Worlds, A. ” 18. ” + Thelma. ” 55. ” + Vendetta. ” 36. ” + Wormwood. ” 47. ” + + +DARRELL, CHARLES + + When London Sleeps. Eagle No. 105. 10c. + + +DAUDET, ALFONSE + + Jack. Arrow No. 59. 10c. + Partners, The. Arrow No. 67. 10c. + Sappho. Arrow No. 10. 10c. + + +DE GONCOURT, E. AND J. + + Germinie Lacerteux. Arrow No. 4. 10c. + + +DELPIT, ALBERT + + Coralie’s Son. Arrow No. 35. 10c. + + +DENISON, MRS. MARY A. + + Daughter of the Regiment, The. Eagle No. 116. 10c. + + +DE PONT JEST, RENE. + + No. 13 Rue Marlot. Magnet No. 96. 10c. + + +DE TINSEAU, LEON + + His Fatal Vow or Sealed Lips. Arrow No. 23. 10c. + + +DEY, MARMADUKE + + Muertalma; or, the Poisoned Pin. Magnet No. 58. 10c. + + +DONNELLY, H. GRATTAN + + Darkest Russia. Eagle No. 94. 10c. + + +DOUGLAS, A. M. + + Midnight Marriage, The. Eagle No. 6. 10c. + + +DOYLE, A. CONAN + + Beyond the City. Arrow No. 6. 10c. + Firm of Girdlestone, The. Arrow No. 69. 10c. + Sherlock Holmes’ Detective Stories, The. Magnet No. 72. 10c. + Sign of the Four, The. Arrow No. 17. 10c. + Study in Scarlet, A. Arrow No. 3. 10c. + + +DU BOISGOBEY, FORTUNE + + Blue Veil, The. Magnet No. 44. 10c. + Chevalier Casse Cou, The. ” 63. ” + Convict Colonel, The. ” 33. ” + Crime of the Opera House. The. Vol. I. ” 35. ” + Crime of the Opera House, The. Vol. II. ” 36. ” + His Great Revenge. Vol. I. ” 54. ” + His Great Revenge. Vol. II. ” 55. ” + Matapan Affair, The. ” 38. ” + Red Camellia, The. ” 64. ” + Red Lottery Ticket, The. ” 31. ” + Steel Necklace, The. ” 27. ” + + + + +Transcriber’s Notes: + + +This novel is a translation of _La femme de cire : Mémoires d’un +détective_ by René de Pont-Jest, the middle part of a trilogy about +detective William Dow. It was first serialized in the _Boston Globe_ +from May 3 to June 11, 1884 under the title _The woman of wax; or, +Memoirs of a detective_. When reprinted in book form, the original +author’s name was omitted and only the translator received credit. + +Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. + +Inconsistent hyphenation (e.g. bloodthirsty vs. blood-thirsty) has been +retained from the original. + +In a few places, paragraph breaks in conversations seem to be in +the wrong places. These instances are present in both the original +newspaper serial and the later book reprint, so they have been left +unmodified. + +The word “autonedon” is likely a typo for “automedon” but is reproduced +as printed in both the original newspaper series and the later book +reprint. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78812 *** diff --git a/78812-h/78812-h.htm b/78812-h/78812-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad0a4c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/78812-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11425 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <title> + Shadowed by a detective | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; 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+ height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} +/* comment out next line and uncomment the following one for floating figleft on ebookmaker output */ +.x-ebookmaker .figleft {float: none; text-align: center; margin-right: 0;} +/* .x-ebookmaker .figleft {float: left;} */ + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} +/* comment out next line and uncomment the following one for floating figright on ebookmaker output */ +.x-ebookmaker .figright {float: none; text-align: center; margin-left: 0;} +/* .x-ebookmaker .figright {float: right;} */ + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + +.small {font-size: 75%;} +.medium {font-size: 125%;} +td.medium {padding: 1em;} +.large {font-size:150%;} +.sig0 {margin-left: 10em; } +.sig {text-align: right; margin-right: 2.5em; } + + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp50 {width: 50%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp50 {width: 100%;} +.illowe8 {width: 8em;} +.illowe3 {width: 3em;} +.illowe2_5 {width: 2.5em;} + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78812 ***</div> + + + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="cover" style="max-width: 111.5625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<table> +<tr><td class="medium tdl">MAGNET DETECTIVE LIBRARY No. 106</td><td> </td><td class="medium tdr">10 CENTS</td></tr> +</table> + +<h1>SHADOWED <span class="smcap">by a</span> DETECTIVE</h1> + +<p class="center large">VIRGINIA CHAMPLIN</p> + +<p class="center medium">STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i1" style="max-width: 90.1875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i1.jpg" alt="MAGNET DETECTIVE LIBRARY"> +</figure> + +<p style="margin-left: 25%; max-width: 33%;"> + <b>THE ONLY STANDARD LINE OF DETECTIVE + NOVELS ON THE MARKET.</b> +</p> +<p style="margin-left: 50%; max-width: 33%;"> + <b>THE ONLY NICK CARTER STORIES IN BOOK FORM + AND THE BEST OF OTHER WRITERS’ WORK.</b> +</p> +<hr> +<p class="center medium"> + <i>Price, Ten Cents.</i> <i>Published Weekly.</i> +</p> + + +<p> + 105—A Bite of An Apple, and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 104—A Past Master of Crime; or, Detective Bush’s Clever Work. By Donald J. McKenzie.<br> + 103—A Queer Case. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 102—Bruce Angelo, the City Detective. By Judson R. Taylor.<br> + 101—The Stolen Pay Train and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 100—The Diamond Button. By Barclay North.<br> + 99—Gideon Drexel’s Millions. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 98—Tom and Jerry, The Double Detectives. By Judson R. Taylor.<br> + 97—The Puzzle of Five Pistols and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 96—No. 13 Rue Marlot. By Rene du Pont Jest.<br> + 95—Sealed Orders; or, The Triple Mystery. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 94—Vivier; of Vivier, Longman & Co., Bankers. By Barclay North.<br> + 93—The Adventures of Harrison Keith, Detective. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 92—Van, the Government Detective. By Judson R. Taylor.<br> + 91—The Great Money Order Swindle. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 90—On the Rack. By Barclay North.<br> + 89—The Detective’s Pretty Neighbor and Other Stories. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 88—The North Walk Mystery. By Will N. Harben.<br> + 87—Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men.<br> + 86—Brant Adams. By Judson R. Taylor.<br> + 85—A Dead Man’s Grip. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 84—The Inspector’s Puzzle. By Charles Matthew.<br> + 83—The Crescent Brotherhood. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 82—The Masked Detective. By Judson R. Taylor.<br> + 81—Wanted by Two Clients. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 80—The Poker King. By Marline Manley.<br> + 79—The Sign of the Crossed Knives. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 78—The Chosen Man. By Judson R. Taylor.<br> + 77—The Van Alstine Case. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 76—Face to Face. By Donald J. McKenzie.<br> + 75—The Clever Celestial. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 74—The Twin Detectives. By K. F. Hill.<br> + 73—Two Plus Two. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 72—Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories. By A. Conan Doyle.<br> + 71—The Diamond Mine Case. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 70—Little Lightning. By Police Captain James.<br> + 69—Detective Bob Bridger. By R. M. Taylor.<br> + 68—The Double Shuffle Club. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 67—The Mystery of a Madstone. By K. F. Hill.<br> + 66—The Detective’s Clew. By O. L. Adams.<br> + 65—Found on the Beach. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 64—The Red Camellia. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.<br> + 63—The Chevalier Casse-Cou. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.<br> + 62—A Fair Criminal. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 61—The Maltese Cross. By Eugene T. Sawyer.<br> + 60—A Chase Around the World. By Mariposa Weir.<br> + 59—A Millionaire Partner. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 58—Muertalma, or the Poisoned Pin. By Marmaduke Dey.<br> + 57—The Vestibule Limited Mystery. By Marline Manly.<br> + 56—At Thompson’s Ranch. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 55—His Great Revenge, Vol. II. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.<br> + 54—His Great Revenge, Vol. I. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.<br> + 53—An Accidental Password. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 52—The Post Office Detective. By George W. Goode.<br> + 51—The Los Huecos Mystery. By Eugene T. Sawyer.<br> + 50—The Man from India. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 49—At Odds With Scotland Yard. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 48—The Great Travers Case. By Dr. Mark Merrick.<br> + 47—The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. By Fergus Hume.<br> + 46—Check No. 777. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 45—Old Specie, the Treasury Detective. By Marline Manley.<br> + 44—The Blue Veil. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.<br> + 43—Among the Nihilists. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 42—The Revenue Detective. By Police Captain James.<br> + 41—John Needham’s Double. By Joseph Hatton.<br> + 40—The Mountaineer Detective. By C. W. Cobb.<br> + 39—Among the Counterfeiters. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 38—The Matapan Affair. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.<br> + 37—The Prairie Detective. By Leander P. Richardson.<br> + 36—The Crime of the Opera House, Vol. II. By F. Du Boisgobey.<br> + 35—The Crime of the Opera House, Vol. I. By F. Du Boisgobey.<br> + 34—The Society Detective. By Oscar Maitland.<br> + 33—The Convict Colonel. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.<br> + 32—A Mysterious Case. By K. F. Hill.<br> + 31—The Red Lottery Ticket. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.<br> + 30—The Bag of Diamonds. By George Manville Fenn.<br> + 29—The Clique of Gold. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 28—Under His Thumb. By Donald J. McKenzie.<br> + 27—The Steel Necklace. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.<br> + 26—File No. 113. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 25—The Detective’s Triumph. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 24—The Detective’s Dilemma. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 23—Evidence By Telephone. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 22—The Champdoce Mystery. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 21—A Deposit Vault Puzzle. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 20—Caught in the Net. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 19—A Chance Discovery. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 18—The Gamblers’ Syndicate. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 17—The Piano Box Mystery. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 16—A Woman’s Hand. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 15—The Widow Lerouge. By Emile Gaboriau.<br> + 14—Caught in the Toils. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 13—The Mysterious Mail Robbery. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 12—Playing a Bold Game. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 11—Fighting Against Millions. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + 10—The Old Detective’s Pupil. By Nicholas Carter.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">9—A Stolen Identity. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">8—An Australian Klondike. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">7—The American Marquis. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">6—A Wall Street Haul. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">5—The Crime of a Countess. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">4—Tracked Across the Atlantic. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">3—A Titled Counterfeiter. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">2—The Great Enigma. By Nicholas Carter.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">1—A Klondike Claim. By Nicholas Carter.</span> +</p> + + +<p class="center"><b>STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 238 William St., New York.</b></p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="To_the_Reader"> + <i>To the Reader</i> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>We trust that you will be thoroughly +satisfied with this book. +During the long period of +time that the publications of Street & +Smith have been familiar to the reading +classes (somewhat more than half a +century) it has always been our aim to +give to the public the very best literary +products, regardless of the expenditure +involved. Our books and periodicals +are today read and re-read in a majority +of the homes of America, while +but few of our original competitors are +even known by name to the present +generation. 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We solicit your further valued +patronage.</p> + +<p class="sig"> + STREET & SMITH. +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> + + +<h2> +SHADOWED BY A +DETECTIVE +</h2> + +<p class="center small">OR</p> + +<p class="center medium">THE WOMAN IN WAX</p> + +<p class="p4 center small">BY</p> +<p class="center medium">VIRGINIA CHAMPLIN</p> +<p class="p4"> </p> +<figure class="figcenter illowe8" id="i2"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i2.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p class="center p6">NEW YORK<br> + <span class="medium">STREET & SMITH, <span class="smcap">Publishers</span></span><br> + <span class="smcap">238 William Street</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"> + Copyright, 1885,<br> + By J. S. OGILVIE & CO.<br> +</p> +<hr class="r5"> +<p class="center"> + Copyright, 1899,<br> + By STREET & SMITH +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS"> + CONTENTS. + </h2> +</div> + +<table> +<tr><th colspan="2">CHAPTER.</th><th class="tdr">PAGE</th></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td class="tdl">The Kidnapping</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td class="tdl">What Became of the Heroine</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td class="tdl">Robertson Brothers & Co.</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td class="tdl">Honorable Willie Saunders becomes Thoroughly Mad</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td class="tdl">Shakespeare’s Tavern</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td class="tdl">The Morgue at Bellevue Hospital</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td class="tdl">Saunders almost loses his Mind, while Captain Young loses + his time</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td class="tdl">Taking a Cast of the Dead</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td class="tdl">What the Honorable Coroner Davis thought, and what + Robertson, Jr., was convinced of</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td class="tdl">A Mohick tells of a visit big Kelly receives which he + little expected, and how William Dow transforms + a visitor into a prisoner</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td class="tdl">A Criminal Court in the State of New York</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td class="tdl">How the worthy Mr. Midler exhorted his penitents to die + like Christians</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td class="tdl">In which James Gobson escapes the Gallows, and the + Honorable Coroner Davis’ remorse</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td class="tdl">In which Willie Saunders passes from despair to amazement, + and from amazement to anger</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td><td class="tdl">William Dow’s Remorse</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td><td class="tdl">William Dow’s Revenge—seeking the unknown</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td><td class="tdl">A Souvenir of Love</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td><td class="tdl">Two Villas at Jamaica Plain</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td><td class="tdl">What happened on leaving Barker’s</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td><td class="tdl">A wife’s love and a maid’s love</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td><td class="tdl">The murderer of a Dead Woman</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td><td class="tdl">Kitty Bell’s Story</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td><td class="tdl">Wharf 32</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Shadowed_by_a_Detective"> + Shadowed by a Detective; + <br> + <span class="small"><span class="smcap">or,</span> + <br> + THE WOMAN IN WAX.</span> + </h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I"> + CHAPTER I. + <br><span class="small"> + THE KIDNAPPING. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>One evening, in the winter of 1865, a grand ball +was given at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street. It +was at the house of Miss Ada Ricard, the new star +in the great American city, but a star whose brilliancy +the profane knew only by reflection, for her +life was enveloped in mystery, and she was never +seen in any public place.</p> + +<p>All that was known of her past was that she had +been married to a wealthy merchant in Buffalo, +James Gobson, a brutal individual, whose matrimonial +yoke she had succeeded in throwing off, but +who had left her certain ineffaceable souvenirs of +his affection.</p> + +<p>Gobson, in fact, who adored his wife, and was +very jealous of her, had one day so abused her that +after the violent scene she was left with one ear +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>torn and one tooth the less. It is true she concealed +the cut on her pretty ear behind a huge diamond, +but she had always refused to replace the pearl +lacking in the jewel casket of her rosy lips.</p> + +<p>“By this,” she said, “I shall never be likely to +forget what a husband costs, and if any mad ambition +or foolish love is about to make me forget it, +it will be sufficient to smile at myself in the glass to +recall the past.”</p> + +<p>Thus armed against her own weakness, she boldly +launched herself into a life of flirtations. Being +worth from ten to twelve thousand dollars through +her husband, she made her <i>debut</i> by expending +them even to the cents in order to establish herself +in luxurious surroundings, knowing that men, in +their pride, attach as much value to the splendor of +the temple as to the charms of the idol.</p> + +<p>Having done this, and having her beauty as her +only capital, she was careful not to waste it on the +first comer; she waited patiently, seldom showing +herself abroad, absolutely refusing all homage until +a certain Thomas Cornhill, the proprietor of inexhaustible +oil wells, seemed worthy of her heart.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, three months after, Thomas Cornhill +suddenly died, and Miss Ada, though bereft, +was left with one hundred thousand dollars in ready +money, and an equal sum in jewels.</p> + +<p>Ada mourned him for a few weeks; then, having +an essentially practical mind, she changed her retinue +of servants before the advent of Willie +Saunders, an immensely rich cracker-merchant, +who soon succeeded poor Cornhill.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> + +<p>When Willie Saunders found his homage accepted, +he was greatly flattered. He was a stout man +of about fifty, sensitive, simple and vain. He truly +adored Ada, and believed himself tenderly beloved +by her. Therefore, ready to listen to all her caprices, +he made only a few remarks for form’s sake +when she told him about the masquerade ball she +wished to give, but he was very jealous. He knew +Ada was sought by many adorers, among whom +was a certain Edward Forster, a colonel in the +Union Army, and one of the most fascinating gentlemen +in New York high life.</p> + +<p>However convinced the worthy cracker-merchant +might be of Ada’s love, he naturally supposed that +her adorers, Forster first of all, would profit by this +evening to pay her more attention than agreeable +to himself, and it troubled him. But the pretty, +wicked little creature managed so artfully that +Saunders did not long resist.</p> + +<p>Besides, she was a wonderful creature, and the +upstart-millionaire had high stakes to play for. A +blonde, with large, steel-blue eyes and a tall, admirable +figure, with the feet and hands of a child; +with a laughing mouth, bold-faced, and fearing +nothing, Ada Ricard had every attraction to lure +the man of the world. The memory of her former +husband sometimes disturbed the young woman in +her new life. Having retained the recollection of +his brutal love and jealousy, she also remembered +with terror that he swore to avenge himself for her +leaving him. But, since arranging the money settlements, +she had not heard of him, and even his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>friends in Buffalo did not know what had become +of him. One fine morning he made a fortune, and +went West. He was last heard from at San Francisco, +where Saunders told her he was living a fast +life, evidently trying to drown recollection.</p> + +<p>Ada’s mind was now at rest, and never had she +been so gay as at the masked ball. Many women +in good society had ventured to attend in order to +get a near view of the mysterious and powerful +beauty.</p> + +<p>Toward eleven o’clock the parlors of the ex-Mrs. +Gobson presented a truly picturesque appearance. +Every period, every class of society, and every legend +were represented, from the companions of Christopher +Columbus to the trappers of the far West, and +from Mephistopheles to the Venetian harlequin. +Among the women there was a dazzling display of +precious stones and dominos of every color. Ada +Ricard herself wore the splendid costume of an Indian +woman of the time of the Spanish conquest. +In her ears she had diamonds worth ten thousand +dollars, around her throat a triple necklace of pearls +of at least equal value, and on her arms and wrists +very heavy bracelets of massive gold.</p> + +<p>All the men who knew her only by sight, and the +women who had heard so much of her, literally devoured +her with admiring eyes. Saunders, who was +to give five or six thousand dollars toward this ball, +did not take his eyes off of her.</p> + +<p>Looking very grotesque in the dress of a Highlander, +he tried every moment to draw near her, +but Ada reminded him by a word, look or gesture +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>that she wished to devote herself wholly to her +guests, and he docilely moved away, uttering a sigh +which was charitably answered by bursts of laughter +by those of his friends who were acquainted with +his weakness.</p> + +<p>The ball, which had been rather quiet for two +or three hours, had become very lively, even noisy.</p> + +<p>Soon the buffets were pillaged, the champagne +flowed in streams; a few masks fell off, and Miss +Ada Ricard, readily refraining from reminding her +guests of what was good form—for all this noise +could only do the greatest honor to her reputation—thought +only of getting away as far as possible from +the hubbub.</p> + +<p>She had just taken the arm of one of her adorers +instead of that which the unfortunate Saunders had +offered, and was proceeding toward a little boudoir +where some quiet people had taken refuge, when a +formidable hurrah caused every head to turn toward +the door.</p> + +<p>It was the entrance of three Sioux Indians that +had excited the enthusiasm of the company.</p> + +<p>They indeed deserved this reception, for they +were really superb in their horribly truthful costumes, +in which nothing was lacking, neither the +head-dress of feathers, the tomahawk, nor scalping-knife, +nor even in the belt, half a dozen scalps, sinister +trophies of late raids.</p> + +<p>Ada Ricard turned and added her applause to that +of the company; then, like them, she tried to recognize +those who had chosen this curious disguise; but +she did not succeed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span></p> + +<p>No doubt, not caring particularly to tattoo their +faces, the three mysterious personages wore masks +which wholly concealed their features, and to every +question they answered only with guttural cries and +exclamations which completely changed their voices. +After opening a passage through the crowd, they +reached the mistress of the house, and, drawing her +away from the friend who was accompanying her, +they began to perform around her in a circle a fantastic +dance which gradually brought her to the +main hall.</p> + +<p>Supposing, like every one else, that the Sioux Indians +were three admirers, Ada gayly watched their +contortions and dance, and was the first to burst +into laughter, when the tallest of the three masks +seized her in his arms and, lifting her as if a child, +bore her to the threshold of the door.</p> + +<p>Standing before her captor, his two companions +chanted a war-song and swung their tomahawks as +if to protect his flight.</p> + +<p>One would have thought him a great chief carrying +away his squaw according to the customs of the +Indians of the plains.</p> + +<p>This joke was so thoroughly American that the +crowd accepted it with ringing bravos.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the warrior who bore the young woman +faced about and, leaping with one bound, sprang +out upon the steps of the house, whose doors were +wide open, and then into a splendid landau which +was standing before the door.</p> + +<p>The two Indians who had followed him had +quickly climbed the box, and the carriage, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>coachman no doubt having received his orders, immediately +set off at a double-quick gallop.</p> + +<p>This kidnapping had been so quickly performed, +that no one would have had time to prevent it if +they had attempted it.</p> + +<p>Of Ada Ricard’s guests, moreover, not one had +thought seriously of it excepting the unhappy Saunders, +whose jealousy, always on the watch, made +him think the conduct of the three masks very +queer.</p> + +<p>He attempted to approach Ada Ricard, but his +friends restrained him in spite of his grotesque supplications; +and, when she disappeared in the arms of +the Indian, he hastened to the balcony of the house, +where the enthusiasm reached delirium on the departure +of the carriage.</p> + +<p>A tremendous hurrah covered the silvery laugh of +Miss Ada when she found herself being enveloped in +the fur pelisse which one of the Sioux had flung +over her shoulders, and the unfortunate cracker-merchant, +who was dragged away from the balcony, +had immediately become the pivot of a comical +dance in the middle of the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>What no one heard, was the cry of amazement or +fright uttered by Miss Ada Ricard the moment the +carriage rattled along the pavement of East Twenty-Third +Street.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II"> + CHAPTER II. + <br><span class="small"> + WHAT BECAME OF THE HEROINE. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>When the friends of Mr. Saunders, exhausted by +their war-whoops and dancing, deigned to grant a +little respite to their victim by opening the circle +which they had pitilessly formed around him, the +big man, half-crazed and breathless, sank upon a +lounge, listening absently to those who were trying +to console him. He not only suffered through his +love, but his vanity was equally wounded, for he did +not doubt that his misfortune would be known all +over New York the next day, and that he would become +an object of public ridicule. It seemed to him +that Ada must have connived with her kidnappers, +being too blind to suppose that violence had been +done her. But who were those men with whom +the unfaithful woman had consented to be an accomplice +in the scene that covered him with ridicule? +For whose benefit had this kidnapping been made? +For one of her adorers, no doubt, but which one? +He was so completely absorbed in his meditations +and despair that he did not perceive that the guests +were disappearing one by one, and only the voice of +Ada’s maid brought him to himself.</p> + +<p>He raised his eyes, the parlors were deserted, and +he was left alone in the room from which the +woman he loved had so strangely disappeared.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span></p> + +<p>On recognizing Ada’s maid, he felt the satisfaction +of a man whose anger, long restrained, can at +last vent itself on some one.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you at least can explain to me what all +this means,” he cried, springing up and seizing the +maid by the arm.</p> + +<p>“I!” answered Mary, somewhat alarmed, and +trying to disengage herself from Saunders’ grasp. +“I! how should I know any more than you?”</p> + +<p>“Did you not recognize those masks?”</p> + +<p>“I saw them only while they were carrying off +madam.”</p> + +<p>“Did not Ada receive any letters during the day?”</p> + +<p>“None whatever.”</p> + +<p>“Nor a call?”</p> + +<p>“You know very well that she receives only you.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have no cause for suspicion?”</p> + +<p>“None.”</p> + +<p>“It is incredible. Your mistress and you are two +cheats.”</p> + +<p>Saying this, the merchant gave Mary a push, and, +having arisen as quickly as his corpulence would +permit, strode up and down the parlor.</p> + +<p>At the very grotesque contrast between the disturbed +face of the stout man and his Highland costume, +whose short frock displayed his large bare +legs, the maid could no longer restrain herself and +burst into laughter, crying:</p> + +<p>“Heavens, sir! how droll you look. If madam +could see you what fun she would have.”</p> + +<p>Made furious by this remark, which turned the +dagger round and round in his wound as if with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>delight, Saunders approached the insolent girl to +strike her; but he probably felt that he would gain +nothing by threats and violence, for he suddenly +softened and said:</p> + +<p>“Come, my little Mary, be good now. Haven’t I +always been kind to you? If you will tell me +where madam has gone I will give you one hundred +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“If you were to give me one thousand dollars,” +answered the maid saucily, “I could not give you +exact information, for I know nothing myself; but +give me the one hundred dollars all the same and I +will tell you something that will comfort you.”</p> + +<p>The love-sick merchant quickly drew out of the +little leather bag that danced upon his stomach, +from his Scotch wallet, the sum demanded, and +handed it to Mary, who took it, slipped it into her +corsage, and continued:</p> + +<p>“Do you know, sir, that I have an idea that this +affair was done on a wager. You know how many +are in love with madam, but she loves you too +much to deceive you, and has always refused the +most splendid offers. Three of her admirers, therefore, +wished to avenge themselves upon her and you, +and so have carried her off. It won’t accomplish +much, for you know madam isn’t a woman to be +made to do what she does not wish. They, no +doubt, have taken her into some house in the +neighborhood, from which she will find a way to +escape if they try to retain her by force. Before +noon she will be back here.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you are right,” said Saunders, somewhat +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>consoled; “that is how it will be; but I swear to +you that they shall pay for this joke. Suppose I go +and notify the police?”</p> + +<p>“Are you crazy? Madam will be back before +a detective can find a trace of her. I should not be +astonished if Forster was at the bottom of it.”</p> + +<p>“Colonel Edward?”</p> + +<p>“That’s the man. He is dead in love with +madam, although she never would receive him.”</p> + +<p>“I will go to his house at once.”</p> + +<p>“That would be absurd, for it certainly is not to +his own house that he has taken Miss Ada.”</p> + +<p>“What shall I do then?”</p> + +<p>“Go to bed and rest, but change your dress first. +You don’t intend, I suppose, to walk around in that +costume all day,” and Mary, to prevent herself from +laughing again, bit her lips until they bled.</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” he answered, glancing into the +mirror which gave him back his burlesque image; +“but you must send me word as soon as Ada +returns.”</p> + +<p>“I promise you.”</p> + +<p>“Then send for a carriage.”</p> + +<p>Mary hastened to send one of the servants to the +nearest carriage stand, and a few moments later, +after giving a thousand commands to the young +girl, the poor lover carefully wrapped in his cloak, +and heaving the loudest of sighs, sank back out of +sight in a corner of the carriage.</p> + +<p>“Fool!” muttered Mary for farewell, as Saunders +disappeared from sight; “if you see your +lady-love to-day I shall be greatly surprised.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> + +<p>And without taking notice of what was passing +below-stairs, where the festivity that had been interrupted +in the parlor was being noisily continued, +the servant re-entered Ada Ricard’s apartments and +shut herself in.</p> + +<p>During the scenes we have just described, the +landau that bore away the young woman, on leaving +Twenty-third Street turned to the left, and +proceeded along First Avenue toward the eastern +part of the city.</p> + +<p>The deepest silence had not ceased to prevail inside +of the carriage, and it had been rolling on half +an hour when the coachman suddenly stopped his +horses.</p> + +<p>The neighborhood was dark and silent.</p> + +<p>The two Indians, who had mounted the box, +sprang down upon the sidewalk, exchanged a few +words with the mask, by the side of which still sat +Miss Ada, and then, darting toward a neighboring +narrow street, vanished in the darkness.</p> + +<p>The landau resumed its course, and soon reached +the first houses of Yorkville, a locality of bad repute, +where in miserable shanties was huddled a +large population, mostly composed of Irish.</p> + +<p>It was the retreat of innumerable pickpockets, +malefactors and rag-pickers of the great American +city, and is attached to one side of it like an incurable +leper. Honest people hardly dare venture, +even in daylight, through this horrible locality, +which extends to the banks of the East River, +almost opposite Blackwell’s Island, where the prisons +and hospitals are.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span></p> + +<p>Having reached the entrance of Yorkville the +carriage stopped a second time, the man who was +inside alighted, bearing in his arms the young +woman whom, with an oath, on account of the bad +weather, he informed that they had at last arrived. +He gave an order to the coachman, and the latter, +turning his horses, drove back at a gallop. As for +the unknown man, still laden with his precious +burden, he walked rapidly to a lane a few steps +distant.</p> + +<p>The place was evidently familiar to him, for without +hesitating a moment, although it was very dark, +he reached a small house, the door of which was +opened at his first touch, and which he quickly +closed behind him.</p> + +<p>In less than a quarter of an hour the same person +reappeared in the street, wearing a large hooded +cloak, which concealed his previous disguise, but he +no longer carried his lady companion. She was +walking at his side, choosing as well as she could +in the darkness the cleanest places on the sidewalk, +and drawing her furs closely around her, for the +night was chilly. They walked thus in the direction +of the East River without exchanging a word. +Soon they reached the banks, which were deserted, +there being nothing to be seen but the lights of the +steamboats which ploughed its waters night and +day.</p> + +<p>The unknown descended to the edge of the water +to a little boat which, no doubt, he expected to find +there, jumped in first, then offered his hand to the +young lady, who embarked without hesitation, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>seated herself in the stern, while her companion +took possession of the oars. Ten minutes later, by +skilful rowing, the boat drifted along Blackwell’s +Island, then, bearing to the left, moved to the +opposite bank. In order to row at his ease, the +amateur sailor had thrown off his cloak. The persons +in this boat made a fantastic sight, being composed +only of an Indian and a woman in the costume +of the time of the Incas, and who at this hour +of the night were crossing this arm of the sea, on +which the current and darkness rendered navigation +doubly dangerous.</p> + +<p>The lady was evidently anxious, for she tried to +peer through the fog that surrounded her. Unable +to do so, she finally asked her companion:</p> + +<p>“Have we long to wait?”</p> + +<p>“Less than half an hour,” he answered, with +a vigorous stroke at the oar, and pushing away +from a steamer that was going to New York, +at full speed, and belching forth smoke and cinders.</p> + +<p>“What was your idea in coming this way?”</p> + +<p>“There is no other; the colonel appointed the +opposite shore, at Greenpoint.”</p> + +<p>“Then he was quite certain that you would +succeed?”</p> + +<p>“So it seemed. Confess, however, regardless of +the pride of the author, that it was a skilfully +managed kidnapping.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, it was; but Saunders will be seeking us +to-morrow, and, although you paid the coachman +well, he will pay him more generously still, and the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>man will not hesitate to tell where he stopped his +carriage.”</p> + +<p>“That is the least of my anxieties, for when the +fat imbecile discovers the house we came out of, he +will find no one in it. Do you think I am going +back there to wait for him?”</p> + +<p>“Where is Colonel Forster to take me?”</p> + +<p>“Ah! that is his affair and yours. He promised +me a thousand dollars if I would carry off Ada +Ricard, with whom he is madly in love.”</p> + +<p>“Without having seen her?”</p> + +<p>“So it seems. I have carried off Ada Ricard. I +shall get my thousand dollars, and the rest does not +concern me.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot, however, remain in this costume.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! the colonel is a perfect gentleman; he will +have a complete wardrobe for you, I am certain. +Look! there are the lights at Williamsburg. In +ten strokes of the oar we shall arrive.”</p> + +<p>In fact, ahead of the boat the lighted buildings of +that important suburb of New York were plainly +seen. The boatman bent over his oars, and in five +minutes they touched the shore at Greenpoint. +Before disembarking the mysterious man gave a +shrill whistle, which was immediately answered by +one like it.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he said to the young woman, and jumping +out on the bank he helped her to reach the +ground. Then, taking her by the hand, he led her +to the road, where shone the light from the lanterns +of a carriage.</p> + +<p>“Is it you?” asked a man keeping guard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p> + +<p>“It is I, colonel,” answered the Indian; “all has +passed off well; Miss Ada has not been very dreadfully +shocked.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! madam,” said Colonel Forster eagerly, for +it was he who came to meet her, “will you forgive +me for this violence?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you at present, sir,” answered the +young woman, “for just now I detest you. You +must confess that it was a brutal proceeding, a +veritable kidnapping from the midst of my guests, +who, the simpletons, thought it only a carnival joke. +At first I was greatly frightened, and now I am +frozen.”</p> + +<p>“Let us go at once to my coupe; later I will +make my excuses and will repair all my wrongs.”</p> + +<p>“What! your coupe. Where are we going?”</p> + +<p>“On board of my yacht, which is waiting for us +at Brooklyn; afterwards wherever you wish.”</p> + +<p>“Excepting to my house?”</p> + +<p>“Excepting to your house,” repeated the American +officer, gallantly.</p> + +<p>While exchanging these words all three had +reached the carriage, the horses of which were +stamping impatiently.</p> + +<p>The colonel helped the pretty New Yorker to +enter, and after seating himself by her side, said to +the pseudo-Indian, holding out a portmonnaie:</p> + +<p>“Here is what I promised you; remember, not a +word. You know that if I have Saunders or the +police at my heels, I shall be after you; whereas, if +you are discreet I shall have the same sum at your +disposal again.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p> + +<p>“Count on me, colonel,” said the stranger; “it is +for my interest to be silent.”</p> + +<p>Then, as he closed the door, he added: “Tell +me, Miss Ada, have you not some commission to +give me for Twenty-third Street? Your people, perhaps, +are anxious.”</p> + +<p>“No, it is useless,” answered the strange woman; +“I shall write to my maid to-day to ask for what I +need. I have confidence in her. Besides, I hope the +colonel will not keep me a prisoner long.”</p> + +<p>The officer protested against this supposition, looking +affectionately at his companion.</p> + +<p>“Then, all right; a pleasant journey to you,” +said the Indian, finally, closing the door of the +coupe, and the coachman immediately started the +horses.</p> + +<p>Quickly regaining the river, the Indian sprang +into his boat, which he pushed off, and returned in +the same direction by which he had come a few +moments before.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Edward Forster’s carriage was crossing +Williamsburg and moving toward Brooklyn, +which it reached in less than twenty-five minutes. +The colonel employed the time on the road in +making a thousand protestations of love, which his +companion hardly answered. When the coupe +finally stopped at the Brooklyn wharf, he was ten +steps off from a large yacht which was evidently +waiting for passengers, for it was under steam.</p> + +<p>“We have arrived, Miss Ada,” said Forster; +“come.”</p> + +<p>He had sprung to the ground and offered his arm +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>to help her cross the planking between the yacht +and the wharf.</p> + +<p>“Have you the right pressure?” he asked the +officer who had appeared at the coupe to receive him +on board.</p> + +<p>“Yes, colonel,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Then set sail at once, and go by the way of +Staten Island.”</p> + +<p>Having given his orders, Forster gently led his +victim to the stairs opening to the interior of the +boat. A few moments later he escorted her to a +spacious, delightfully-furnished cabin, and said to +her as he knelt before her:</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada, you are even more beautiful than I +dreamed; tell me that you forgive me.”</p> + +<p>Ada had seated herself on a lounge, and her fur +cloak had fallen from her shoulders. The colonel +gazed at her in admiration. He was a very handsome +young man, and one could easily understand +the jealousy with which he had inspired the stout +Saunders. Hardly thirty-five years old, a blonde +with a slender figure, both elegant and robust, he +was a true representative of the Anglo-Saxon race. +Besides he had a great fortune and was one of +the most distinguished officers in the Union Army.</p> + +<p>It was this, probably, which influenced her, for +after a moment’s silence she decided to answer +him with a smile.</p> + +<p>“I think, colonel, it is time to come to an explanation. +You have carried me off. That is a very +military proceeding; now what are you going to do +with me?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p> + +<p>“Make you the happiness of my life,” interrupted +Forster. “You know that I adore you.”</p> + +<p>“That is a matter of course; but how came you +to conceive such a wild plan? It cannot be simply +because I refused to receive you.”</p> + +<p>“You had not been in New York a fortnight before +I loved you, and Cornhill did all that he could +to rouse everyone’s curiosity and to increase my love +for you. He belonged to my club, and not a day +passed that he did not talk to us about your wit and +beauty. From that moment dates my first efforts +to meet you; but, you remember, I hardly had an +opportunity after two or three attempts to catch a +glimpse of you and speak to you a few seconds. +When Cornhill died I was absent from New York. +I went to Louisiana on a commission, which I cursed +on my return when I knew that Saunders was devoting +himself to you, and to seek a quarrel with +him, when he did not belong to my set in society, +would have made me ridiculous.”</p> + +<p>“You were afraid of a scandal.”</p> + +<p>“True, not knowing what to do, for I felt that +every day I was loving you more; I should certainly +have committed some folly, for you did not +answer my letters, and your door was pitilessly +closed to me, when one morning a man whom I did +not know came to propose that I should carry you +off and bring you on board my yacht. I confess +that I did not for an instant trouble myself as to how +the man had learned of my love for you; I saw +only the end to be attained. He spoke to me with +such assurance that I accepted his offer: we agreed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>upon the condition. I promised him a certain sum +if he should succeed, and the same if he would keep +silent. He has succeeded; that is why we are this +moment descending the East River, and why I am +at your feet asking your forgiveness and begging +you to forgive me.”</p> + +<p>“We will talk about it at another time.”</p> + +<p>“I have obtained a three months’ leave from the +Secretary of War, and I have told my family that I +should be absent on a trip to the South.”</p> + +<p>“The plan is perfectly arranged; it lacks only my +consent.”</p> + +<p>“It is late to refuse me that.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?”</p> + +<p>“I hope so.”</p> + +<p>“What of poor Saunders?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I beg you, don’t mention his name.”</p> + +<p>“You know that he will kill you when he learns +what has happened.”</p> + +<p>“That would not be a misfortune unless he +killed me before you make me happy by loving +me.”</p> + +<p>Ada could not resist this chivalrous sally of the +colonel. She answered by holding out her two +little hands, which he pressed warmly in his own.</p> + +<p>“Well, I am conquered. We will shake hands; +no one could have done more brusquely or more +gallantly. But I cannot remain in this carnival +dress.”</p> + +<p>“I foresaw that,” answered the colonel, rising; +“you will find there,” pointing to a cabin, the door +of which was partly open, “all that you need. If +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>anything is wanting we can send one of my men to +New York for it tomorrow.”</p> + +<p>“Really, you are charming,” answered the young +woman, with a smile. “I will join you in a moment.”</p> + +<p>“While waiting for you, I shall order supper. +You must be dying of hunger.”</p> + +<p>“Truly, I am. You forget nothing,” saying which +she disappeared in the adjoining cabin.</p> + +<p>In less than a quarter of an hour she returned, +attired in a lovely robe of blue silk. They seated +themselves at a table, delicately served, and Colonel +Forster, as a prelude to the repast, gave an ardent +toast to the beauty of his passenger.</p> + +<p>The yacht was steaming out into the main roads, +and all this time the unhappy Saunders, who had +settled down in his own home and divested himself +of his Highland costume, was in the depths of despair, +wondering what could have become of his +beloved Miss Ada Ricard.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III"> + CHAPTER III. + <br><span class="small"> + ROBERTSON BROTHERS & CO. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Notwithstanding his chagrin, the Hon. Saunders +finally succumbed to fatigue and fell asleep. When +he awoke—toward one o’clock in the afternoon—and +his valet told him that no caller or letter had +come, he sprang from his bed, dressed in haste, and, +without allowing himself more for breakfast than +about a dozen sandwiches, washed down by half a +dozen cups of tea, he jumped into a cab, ordering +the driver to stop at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street. +Ten minutes later he arrived.</p> + +<p>“Is there any news?” he asked the servant who +opened the door.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, sir,” answered the man, who would +have been greatly embarrassed to have been obliged +to deliver a longer sentence, for he was still half intoxicated +on account of the festivity of the evening +before. Saunders quickly ascended the first flight, +and found Mary in Ada’s apartment. She was +quietly arranging dresses and linen.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he asked, sinking into an arm-chair, “so +madam has not returned?”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the maid; “but I have heard from +her.”</p> + +<p>“And you did not tell me at once.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> + +<p>The stout merchant made a movement as if to +rise.</p> + +<p>Mary stopped him with a gesture, saying—</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir! it is because the news will not afford +you much pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“What—what is the matter? Nothing has happened +to madam? But tell me; you make my +blood boil.”</p> + +<p>“Not more than a quarter of an hour ago I received +a letter from Miss Ada. Here it is.”</p> + +<p>Saunders tore from the maid’s hands the letter she +held out to him, and, after reading it, uttered an +angry cry. The letter contained five lines only, +but they were enough to drive the loving Yankee +mad.</p> + +<p>“My good Mary,” she said, “put the house in +order, dismiss the servants, giving each a fortnight’s +extra pay, and wait for me patiently. I shall be absent +a month, at least; perhaps two or three. I +rely upon you—Ada Ricard.”</p> + +<p>“What does all this mean?” he cried, at last, +when he had recovered his speech.</p> + +<p>“I know no more than you, sir,” answered the +maid. “You see I am fulfilling madam’s orders.”</p> + +<p>“And not a word for me,” groaned the unhappy +man, crushing in his hand the cruel letter. “Ah! +the cheat shall pay for it. Who brought the note?”</p> + +<p>“An unknown messenger, who must belong to +another neighborhood.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you ask where he came from?”</p> + +<p>“He spoke to the cook and immediately left. His +errand was no doubt paid for in advance.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> + +<p>Saunders buried his face in his big hands and +murmured—</p> + +<p>“O, yes, I will avenge myself, but how?”</p> + +<p>Mary, shrugging her shoulders, had resumed her +work.</p> + +<p>An excellent idea evidently was suddenly working +in the troubled mind of the cracker-merchant, for, +rising abruptly, and without addressing a word to +the unfeeling servant, he left the room and house +of his faithless Ada.</p> + +<p>“To the central office of the police,” he ordered +as he climbed into his carriage. The chief of the +metropolitan police was at that time a Mr. Kelly, +who was always spoken of as “Fat Kelly,” a very +large, churlish man, often rough but quite intelligent, +and possessing besides all the scepticism indispensable +to his important duties. Saunders sent +in his card, but Fat Kelly, before receiving him, +rang for one of his secretaries in order to obtain +some information about his visitor. Five minutes +later this clerk handed his chief a note as +follows:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Willie Saunders, wealthy cracker-merchant, vain, +of ordinary intelligence, very much smitten with a +woman, Ada Ricard, on whom he has already lavished +$100,000 or more. Willie Saunders is worth at +least a million and a half.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>“Very well, show him in,” ordered the chief of +police, after becoming acquainted with this not very +flattering document, of whose existence Saunders +was certainly ignorant.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p> + +<p>Summoned by an office boy, the unfortunate merchant +plunged like an avalanche into Mr. Kelly’s +private office.</p> + +<p>The latter gentleman could not conceal the pleasant, +spontaneous smile which wreathed his lips +at the sight of a man almost as stout as he; but, +his nature gaining the ascendancy, he hastened to +say in a curt tone to the grotesque individual:</p> + +<p>“What do you wish? Be quick, I have a load of +business on hand.”</p> + +<p>Without being greatly disconcerted—for he was +so completely absorbed in his own anxieties that he +heeded nothing—Saunders answered:</p> + +<p>“I have come, sir, to request your most powerful +protection; I am the victim.”</p> + +<p>“Of a theft? Where, how? Of what sum? Is +the guilty man, or him you suppose guilty, one of +your employes?”</p> + +<p>“No sir; I——”</p> + +<p>“So much the better, for theft by anyone in your +pay is an aggravating case.”</p> + +<p>“But, sir, it is not a case of theft.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! What is it then?”</p> + +<p>“Kidnapping, sir; real kidnapping.”</p> + +<p>“They have carried off your wife, your daughter?”</p> + +<p>“I am not married.”</p> + +<p>“Who, then? Your mother, or your sister, or +your cousin, or your aunt? Devil take it, do be +precise. I can’t guess and enumerate all your +family.”</p> + +<p>“They have carried off my Ada.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span></p> + +<p>“Your Ada, who has had your hundred thousand +dollars, and who, of course, deceives you.”</p> + +<p>“Sir, are you acquainted?”</p> + +<p>“And who has carried off this interesting person? +One of her lovers? What do you wish me to do? +There has been no violence.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; on the contrary.”</p> + +<p>“No; it is improbable, inadmissable; consequently +I can have nothing to do with your affair. I +wish you a very good day. Go and make your +claims for Miss Ada elsewhere. What have I to do +with such matters? You are wealthy; this lady +will return to you some day, be sure of it. And +you will receive her, and she will make you believe +anything she wishes, and you will ask her pardon. +You are all great fools, one as much as the other.”</p> + +<p>And Fat Kelly, drawing a bundle of papers toward +him, began to turn them over in furious haste, without +paying further attention to his visitor.</p> + +<p>Saunders, in spite of his moderate intelligence, as +the descriptive document stated, understood that he +would obtain nothing from the chief of the police, +and without bowing, which did not disturb the +latter at all, but deeply humiliated, and grumbling +aloud with a freedom wholly American, he left the +office of the intractable police officer. But when +he reached the threshold of the administrative +office where he thought to find assistance and protection, +he questioned himself as to what he should +do, and perhaps he was about to decide to go to +Colonel Forster’s house, when an individual accosted +him and said politely:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> + +<p>“You seem greatly annoyed, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What is that to you?” was the gruff answer.</p> + +<p>“Why,” replied the unknown, without being +ruffled by this cool reception, “because if you did +not obtain the information you desire from the +central office, I might be able to give it to you.”</p> + +<p>“You?”</p> + +<p>“Or at least the important house of Robertson +Brothers & Co., of which I have the honor to be +one of the head clerks.”</p> + +<p>“The house of Robertson & Co.?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, the most honorable, most discreet, and +the safest agency——”</p> + +<p>Saunders, the stout, tapped his forehead; he +understood.</p> + +<p>The man who was addressing him was simply +one of those ferrets by whom the informing +agencies scour the city. The most skilful of all +its rivals, the house of Robertson Bros. & Co., +always had one of its men standing around in the +neighborhood of Mr. Kelly’s offices, in order to recruit +on the way some client for whom the official +police had refused to become the instrument. It +must have been Heaven that sent Saunders this +aid.</p> + +<p>“Where is your office?” he asked the agent.</p> + +<p>“In Nineteenth Street, No. 22,” answered the +clerk.</p> + +<p>“Close to her,” murmured Saunders, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>“What did you say?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing, come into my cab, give the address to +the coachman, and take me to the house.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span></p> + +<p>The man obeyed, and in a quarter of an hour +the carriage stopped before a very honest-looking +house, whose mahogany door bore on a large copper +plate: “Robertson Bros. & Co., solicitors.”</p> + +<p>Messrs. Robertson Bros. & Co. make a great +deal of money, but they have a better reputation +than their professional brethren. They even pass +for honest people and that explains itself, for all +New York knew the causes of the creation of their +agency, which, at the time when the events took +place herein described, had been established but +three or four years.</p> + +<p>It was well known that Mr. Robertson, Sr., had +founded his establishment merely through political +spite and hatred toward Mr. Kelly, the chief of the +metropolitan police.</p> + +<p>A candidate for election at the same time as +Kelly, Edward Robertson had been beaten by his +rival, after a fierce contention and a truly American +exchange of invectives. Robertson reproached +Kelly with being an ignorant, drunken brute; +Kelly accused his competitor of being ambitious, a +slaveholder, and libertine.</p> + +<p>The Yankee electors no doubt preferred the faults +of Kelly to those of Robertson, since they nominated +Kelly; but when Robertson learned that his +enemy was called to the important functions of the +chief of police, he judged that the moment had +come to avenge himself. Then he organized his +agency of secret police, in order to test his skill +against that of the official police of his former adversary.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p> + +<p>He relied upon occasions, not lacking, to show the +superiority of his mind over that of his victor in the +elections, and he hoped that his victories would enable +him some day to take his revenge in a new +political struggle. Several times already, in cases +where Fat Kelly had failed, notwithstanding the +aid of all his policemen and detectives, Messrs. Robertson +had succeeded; and it can be easily judged +whether Robertson, senior, was proud of his victories, +and had made them tell for the reputation of +his house.</p> + +<p>Saunders, who was well acquainted with this +police rivalry and these strange customs, crossed the +threshold of the house of Robertson Brothers & Co., +without the least repugnance.</p> + +<p>After leading him to a small, severely furnished +room on the ground floor, his guide introduced him +into the private office of one of the chiefs of the +agency.</p> + +<p>The love-sick manufacturer of crackers found +himself in the presence of a man hardly thirty +years old, freshly shaven, with hair curled (pomaded), +foppishly dressed, and having no indication +on his physiognomy of the interloping police +officer.</p> + +<p>As he partly reclined in a spacious leather arm +chair before a large desk loaded with documents, +with his white hand and smiling lips, one would +have taken him for a young member of Congress.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Robertson?” asked Saunders.</p> + +<p>“Robertson, Jr.,” answered the second head of +the house, slightly bowing, and signing to his visitor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>to be seated. “To whom have I the honor of speaking?”</p> + +<p>“Willie Saunders, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Willie Saunders, the proprietor of the +great manufacturies in Brooklyn, the noted Mr. +Saunders?”</p> + +<p>“The very one, sir.”</p> + +<p>Greatly flattered at being so well known, the +poor man took an arm-chair and tried to settle his +mind.</p> + +<p>After a few moments of meditation, he said: +“This is what brings me here, sir. A young +woman in whom I am deeply interested, Miss Ada +Ricard, was carried off yesterday during a ball that +she was giving at her house, No. 17 East Twenty-third +Street.”</p> + +<p>“Carried off!” interrupted Robertson, Jr.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, carried off!” And Saunders related +in detail the event of which he had been a witness; +then, with many groans, he told what the maid had +said about her mistress, and his useless application +at the central office of the metropolitan police.</p> + +<p>“You think, then,” said the young man, who had +listened without interrupting, “that Colonel Forster +is the kidnapper?”</p> + +<p>“I think so,” answered the jealous man, with +flashing eyes.</p> + +<p>“You would like to make certain of it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and to know what has become of Miss Ada. +Is that possible?”</p> + +<p>“Everything is possible; it is only a question of +price.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> + +<p>“Set your own.”</p> + +<p>“It is necessary first that I should have a likeness +of the lady.”</p> + +<p>“I always carry one.”</p> + +<p>Poor Saunders drew forth a photograph and presented +it to Robertson.</p> + +<p>“She is very pretty,” said the latter, gallantly.</p> + +<p>“Alas, yes,” sighed the stout man.</p> + +<p>“Let me ask you a few questions? Are you married? +Have you children—daughters in particular?”</p> + +<p>“Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“You will understand. If you have children—daughters +especially—we shall have to act with the +greatest caution in order to avoid scandal, in the interest +of decency, which needs no explanation. Then +our expenses would be larger, and consequently our +commission higher.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. No; I am a single man.”</p> + +<p>“That is perfect. One thing more. How much +money have you spent in your devotion to this bewitching +Miss Ada?”</p> + +<p>“How much must I——”</p> + +<p>“Of course, you will see why. You are very rich +and generous. If you have spent but little for Miss +Ada, it is because you love her moderately; consequently, +you have only a moderate desire to find +her. If, on the contrary, you open your purse wide, +it is because you are deeply in love with her; therefore, +you have a proportionate desire to see her +again. Now, our search and movements being regulated +by your sentiments, it is indispensable that +we should be exactly informed.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p> + +<p>The worthy Robertson, Jr., expressed himself so +coldly and calmly but also with such precision, and +moreover with such logic as regarded his estimable +business, that Saunders could but give an approving +wave of the hand, saying in answer:</p> + +<p>“You are right. Well, Miss Ada has had a big +pile of money from me, and because I love her still, +and because I wish to avenge myself on her and +her kidnappers, I subscribe in advance to your conditions.”</p> + +<p>“If it is Colonel Forster who carried off this young +woman he is a formidable adversary,” he observed.</p> + +<p>“Then what will it cost?”</p> + +<p>“Then, my dear sir, it will cost five hundred dollars, +in advance; then you will give us five hundred +dollars more on the day when I shall have the pleasure +of informing you what became of Miss Ada +Ricard, and where you must go to find her.”</p> + +<p>For answer, Willie Saunders majestically handed +a check to Mr. Robertson, Jr., saying—</p> + +<p>“As for the other five hundred dollars, when you +give me the information you promise you can have +a check.”</p> + +<p>“That will be in a few days, I hope. But try +nothing on your part; you might, without meaning +it, counteract some of my plans.”</p> + +<p>“I will be careful, sir. Ah, don’t mislay that +photograph, I beg, as it is the only one I possess. I +have destroyed all the others.”</p> + +<p>“I will return it, with my note.”</p> + +<p>“I did not wish Miss Ada to have a single one to +give away.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></p> + +<p>“That was prudent.”</p> + +<p>“It has served me well.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, do not too quickly accuse that charming +woman; she may have been the victim of some +violence.”</p> + +<p>“But her letter, sir, her letter to her maid.”</p> + +<p>“Who can assert that she was not forced to +write? Be calm and patient; remain quietly at +home, and have confidence in the house of Robertson +Brothers & Co.; it has solved mysteries more +difficult than yours. From to-day your interests +are ours.”</p> + +<p>Touched by these kind words, the unfortunate +cracker-merchant deigned to extend a hand to Mr. +Robertson, Jr., and returned home more cheerful. +The days, however, seemed endless to him, and, +although he did not find in Mary a very faithful +echo of his grief, he could not help going three or +four times in every twenty-four hours to No. 17 +East Twenty-third Street. But at each call the +maid invariably answered: “Since madam has +written that she will be absent a month at least, do +as I do—wait.”</p> + +<p>Saunders went along Twenty-third Street holding +on to the railings of the houses, for his step had become +feeble.</p> + +<p>The adventure was noised abroad; thanks to the +servants who had been dismissed, people knew the +slightest details, and Miss Ada’s unhappy lover was +the laughing-stock of every one. They watched his +coming and going, but he was so completely absorbed +in his sad thoughts that he perceived nothing of it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p> + +<p>When he was at home, the business instinct roused +him a little from his preoccupation, but his mind +quickly reverted to its one thought, and he changed +so from hour to hour that he became pitiable to behold. +Those of his friends who at first had most +mercilessly joked him now pitied him.</p> + +<p>Matters remained thus four days, and Saunders becoming +very anxious at Messrs. Robertson Brothers’ +long silence was about to call upon them, when one +morning he received a large envelope, proudly bearing +the seal of this honorable house. He hastened to +open it. It contained Miss Ada’s picture, a letter of +a few lines and a very long note, headed “Confidential.”</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>—The enclosed document proves to you that we +have succeeded according to your wishes. We have +spared neither skill nor any possible step, and we +have the honor of reminding you that upon presenting +the said document you have to pay us a sum of +five hundred dollars. Our clerk, the bearer of this +paper, will give you a receipt. We have not forgotten +that we are ready to follow your orders in this +affair.</p> + +<p class="sig0"> + Yours, respectfully, etc., etc. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Willie Saunders, deeply impressed, quickly turned +to read the note of Messrs. Robertson Brothers & +Co., solicitors, which was drawn up in the following +style:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Miss Ada Ricard, carried off from her house on +the night of Tuesday last, left in a carriage hired +by an unknown man the night before from Mr. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>Thompson, No. 4 Sixth Avenue, for the sum of +twenty-five dollars for twenty-four hours. The +stranger said that this carriage would have to take +him to several masked balls, that he did not wish +any footmen, for his own would accompany him, +and that he would come for the carriage himself +when he needed it. They had it ready for him, and +he arrived at half-past one in the morning, with +two men in large dominos and masks. He wore +a heavy cloak, but, although he also was masked, +it was easy to recognize by his headgear that he +was costumed as an Indian. The coachman was +named Tom Katters. By the order of the unknown +man he drove to East Twenty-third Street, where +he remained in the file of carriages standing before +No. 17. One of the dominos alighted and disappeared +for about half an hour. At the end of this +time he returned and exchanged a few words in a +foreign language with the other two masks, who +got out of the landau. They had removed their +dominos and were all three disguised as Sioux +Indians. Before leaving, one of the three men, +who seemed to command the others, gave his instructions +to Tom Katters. The latter was to stand +directly before the door of the house and when the +three travelers returned to start his horses off at a +gallop. They gave him five dollars extra to induce +him to be exact in obeying orders, and promised +him as much more if he would prove himself intelligent. +In less than twenty minutes after their +departure the three masks returned. The largest +bore in his arms a woman, who was laughing; he +got into the landau with her; the other two Indians +mounted the box with Katters, who, according to +their order, drove at full speed up Twenty-third +Street as far as First Avenue. A little beyond Hell +Gate the two men sprang down to the sidewalk, and +after telling Katters to pursue his course to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>entrance of Yorkville, they disappeared. Katters +obeyed, and did not stop until he had reached the +place indicated. There the only remaining traveler +in his turn alighted. He bore the young woman in +his arms, because the ground was damp with the +rain, and he was reassuring her, no doubt, for +Katters heard him say: “It has rained cats and +dogs, but we have arrived.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>“Miserable cheat,” murmured Saunders, whose +anger increased at each one of these details; “she +had an understanding with her kidnappers. Oh! I +shall avenge myself.” And, washing down this +vow with a large glass of sherry, he resumed his +reading.</p> + +<p>The report continued in these terms:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Before leaving, the unknown man gave the promised +five dollars to the coachman, and the latter, +without disturbing himself as to what was to become +of his generous client, turned his horses round +and returned to the city. It seems certain that the +man and woman immediately went to the East +River to embark in a boat waiting for them, for +James Davis, the mate of the steamer Liberia, remembered +having seen, while he was on watch +Tuesday or Wednesday night, at three o’clock, +below Blackwell’s Island, a yawl, rowed by an +Indian, and in the stern of which sat a woman. +This yawl passed so close to the Liberia that it came +near being capsized, and the frightened passenger +uttered a cry of fear. Our information permits us +to add that Colonel Forster, Monday, had his yacht, +the Gleam, conveyed to the Brooklyn wharf, which +he visited Tuesday, and this same yacht was provisioned +for a trip of a certain number of weeks. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>Wednesday, in the day-time, the Gleam passed +before Castle Garden, and a young, elegant woman +was plainly seen on board. Then it took the route +for Staten Island, and there it came to anchor on +account of some injury to one of its cylinders. +Captain Reynolds, who commands the Gleam, having +sent ashore for workmen, one of my agents +quietly slipped in among them, and easily recognized +Miss Ada, owing to the photograph he had in +his hands. The same agent learned that as soon as +the Gleam was repaired it put out to sea for some +unknown destination. It would be impossible to +say how long this voyage or excursion will last, for +Colonel Forster, who has not left shipboard, has a +leave of absence for three months.</p> + +<p>If Mr. Willie Saunders desires, the house of +Robertson Brothers & Co. can hire a steamboat, +and one of the most intelligent agents can set out +in pursuit of the fugitives. Mr. Robertson, Jr., +will wait for the instructions of Mr. Willie Saunders. +The hiring of this steamer will cost one hundred +dollars a day. Mr. Willie Saunders must deposit +one thousand dollars in advance, which shall be +paid to Messrs. Robertson Brothers & Co., whatever +the result and duration of the expedition.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>“Well, that is an idea,” murmured the stout man, +whom anger and the desire for vengeance made +ready for anything; “Robertson Brothers & Co. +are men of skill. Yes, even if it costs me double +and treble what they ask, I will confound the +wretch. Ah! that brutal Kelly imagines that I +will forgive him. Well, we will see.”</p> + +<p>And in a state of fierce excitement, Saunders took +his hat and rushed to the door of his office.</p> + +<p>“Pardon, sir,” said an individual, stopping him +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>on the way, and who had been there a long time +and whom he had quite forgotten, “pardon, you +have five hundred dollars to remit by me.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! that is true,” answered the cracker-merchant, +recognizing the clerk of the agency. “Present +that at the bank.”</p> + +<p>He had scrawled an order in one of the pages of +his note-book, and handed it to the man.</p> + +<p>Then he jumped into the first cab which he saw +and was driven to the police intelligence office, +where Robertson, Junior, received him, as on his +first visit.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” said Saunders to him, “your idea of pursuing +Miss Ada’s kidnapper seems to me excellent. +I approve of it, but be prompt. According to the +information you have sent me, Colonel Forster’s +yacht may still be at anchor off Staten Island, +and if I could reach there before her departure——”</p> + +<p>“What! you wish to go yourself,” observed the +elegant Robertson.</p> + +<p>“Yes, myself. I wish to provoke that insolent +officer, and avenge myself afterwards on the woman +who has made sport of me.”</p> + +<p>“You know our conditions?”</p> + +<p>“Here are the thousand dollars in advance.”</p> + +<p>“That is perfect,” said the agent, slipping the +check into his safe; “be at Battery wharf in two +hours; we will set out together. I am really interested +in this affair, and would like to accompany +you myself.”</p> + +<p>Saunders was profuse in thanks, and returned +home to make his preparations.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV"> + CHAPTER IV. + <br><span class="small"> + HONORABLE WILLIE SAUNDERS BECOMES THOROUGHLY + MAD. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Two hours later, when the cracker-merchant +reached the place of rendezvous, convulsively pressing +the enormous six-shot revolver in his pocket, he +espied Mr. Robertson, Jr.</p> + +<p>“You see,” said the latter, “that with the house +of Robertson Brothers & Co., you have only to express +the wish.”</p> + +<p>“And a check,” Willie Saunders might have answered.</p> + +<p>But silently he proceeded to the little steamer +which was under steam, alongside the wharf. It +was a screw propeller, small at the bow, and of elegant +shape, which could easily make her twelve +miles an hour.</p> + +<p>“The Firefly was just manned and free,” resumed +the agent, joining Miss Ada’s poor lover. “Her +owner was exacting, but I did not hesitate.”</p> + +<p>“Let us embark, then; let us embark,” said +Saunders, who acted like a madman.</p> + +<p>“Let us go on board,” repeated Mr. Robertson, +Jr., and, pointing out the way to his victim, he +quietly crossed the planking, the boards of which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>groaned under the infinitely great weight of the +heavy Yankee.</p> + +<p>The Firefly was immediately unmoored. Two +moments later, it was sailing out in the harbor in +order to double the point at Brooklyn.</p> + +<p>“Three o’clock,” said the agent of the lavish +client, after having consulted a superb chronometer +which was fastened to his waistcoat by a massive +guard-chain.</p> + +<p>“So much the better,” answered Saunders; “we +can anchor nearer the Gleam without being recognized. +There will be the devil to pay if, during the +evening or night, the wretch does not betray her +presence on board her lover’s boat. Then, tomorrow +morning, I swear, this doomed colonel must exchange +a few pistol shots with me, or I will kill him +like a dog, and her afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“Dear sir, don’t commit any act of violence in +my presence, at least. I should not like to be accused +of complicity in such an affair. Come, calm +yourself a little. In the first place, if you will take +my advice, be less expressive, and don’t talk so loud +about your business. It is not necessary for my +crew to know the cause of this little trip.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you are right; but, truly, I am beside myself. +To have been duped in this manner—”</p> + +<p>It was while walking the deck of the Firefly that +these gentlemen exchanged these thoughts. They +remained on deck until the steward announced that +dinner was ready.</p> + +<p>Saunders’ first impulse was to refuse to go to +the dining-room, but Robertson, Jr., proved so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>convincingly that dieting was injurious to mind +and body, that the unfortunate merchant finally +placed himself at the table, and ate with a very +good appetite.</p> + +<p>The dinner was just ended, when the captain of +the steamboat notified his passengers that they were +nearing Staten Island, and that the Gleam was in +the harbor.</p> + +<p>The stout New Yorker made but one bound from +the room to the deck.</p> + +<p>It was night, and the sky indicated that it was to +be dark and stormy. Nevertheless, one could see +plainly enough to distinguish Colonel Forster’s +yacht, which was at anchor near the shore.</p> + +<p>After taking time to wrap himself in his overcoat, +Mr. Robertson, Jr., with a cigar in his mouth, cool, +calculating, and methodical as usual, joined the +irascible Saunders.</p> + +<p>“Suppose we cross the bows of the Gleam at +once,” proposed the latter.</p> + +<p>“Don’t think of such a thing, dear sir,” answered +the agent. “In the first place, I think that our +captain would refuse, the maritime law having +foreseen this kind of collision on the part of a +boat in motion with a ship at anchor; besides, how +would it help you? You do not wish, I suppose, to +rejoin Miss Ada Ricard by such a dangerous movement?”</p> + +<p>“I must see her,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Have patience. Besides, I do not think she is on +board at this moment. You will observe that the +porthole of the main cabin does not show any light. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>I should not be surprised if Colonel Forster was at +this moment in his country house at Staten Island, +yonder, a hundred steps from shore.”</p> + +<p>“We must assure ourselves of it.”</p> + +<p>“That is why we are going to anchor here.”</p> + +<p>Without consulting his unhappy client any further, +Mr. Robinson, Jr., ran to give his instructions +to the commander of the Firefly, who stood in the +stern near the helm. Two minutes had hardly +elapsed before the chain was payed out through the +hawse-hole, and the anchor of the yacht lay at the +bottom of the bay. They were only about half a +cable’s length, that is a hundred metres, from the +Gleam.</p> + +<p>“Then you believe that Colonel Forster is not on +board?” asked Saunders of the agent.</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it,” answered the latter. “If your +rival were on the Gleam it would not be so still, for +he would be anxious about our arrival and anchoring +so near him.”</p> + +<p>“I have an idea, my dear sir.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Do you know where the colonel’s villa is?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly well; if the fog were not so dense we +could see the lighted windows from here.”</p> + +<p>“What do you think of taking a little walk on +land? If Forster is at home it would be easier for +me to meet him than on board ship.”</p> + +<p>“That is true; but you will observe that the +night is very dark and the sea quite rough.”</p> + +<p>“If you are afraid, I will go alone.”</p> + +<p>“The heads of the house of Robertson & Co. are +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>afraid of nothing or nobody, Mr. Saunders. I will +have a boat manned for you and will not leave +you;” and immediately giving the necessary orders, +the young man preceded the stout Yankee on the +ladder, to the foot of which a boat came instantly. +It was a graceful, solid fishing boat, in which the +worst weather might have been braved. Four vigorous +sailors manned it. Robertson, Junior, and +Saunders placed themselves in the stern, and the +latter, who had been a seaman in his youth, took +hold of the helm, ordering the men to push off. The +boat moved off, heading toward land. The agent, +guiding himself by the lights on the island, indicated +the route to his companion; but the fog soon became +so thick that just as they were about to enter +the channel which leads to the harbor, the boatmen +had to rest their oars.</p> + +<p>“Listen!” said Saunders, suddenly leaning over +on a level with the water in order to try to pierce the +fog; and Robertson listened. They heard distinctly, +coming from the land, a regular sound of the oars of +a boat vigorously worked.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said the agent, “there are fine fellows who +know their route better than we do ours.”</p> + +<p>The boat, in fact, was rapidly approaching. Suddenly +a metallic, silvery laugh echoed by the sonorous +waves, made Mr. Saunders give a bound.</p> + +<p>“It is she, the cheat!” he growled. “Row, +boys, row. Let us reach the entrance of the channel +before them. A hundred dollars to you if we go +in first.”</p> + +<p>Stimulated by this promise, the sailors of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>Firefly bent over their oars and the boat sped along +like an arrow.</p> + +<p>But Colonel Forster’s boat—for it was really he +who was returning to his yacht—was not so far +away as the cracker-merchant thought. Lost to +sight in the bank of fog, he did not see it coming, +or rather, perhaps, did not wish to see it, and before +the agent could avoid it, by a turn of the rudder, a +frightful collision took place between the two boats. +The shock was so severe that the fishing boat, receiving +it abreast, careened about, heading to shore, +from which it was separated by a few yards only, +and on which the sea dashed heavily. As for the +yawl being driven to the other side of the channel, +its situation was still more grave. At the same instant, +as if to prove it, a terrible cry was heard—a +woman’s cry—whose tone sent a chill of horror +through Mr. Saunders, who, thrown backwards +from his seat, and covered with water and spray, +had been flung upon the sandy shore. Then it +seemed to him that a second cry, stifled like a sob, +succeeded the first, and, with his eyes looking haggard +and his hair standing on end, he tried to leap +into the waves, but Robertson stopped him.</p> + +<p>“It is she, it is she! I wish at least to try and +save her!” he cried, endeavoring to free himself.</p> + +<p>“Are you mad?” answered the young man, holding +him firmly. “If anything has happened you do +not know where. If Miss Ada has not been saved +by those accompanying her it is too late, for the tide +is going out.”</p> + +<p>The agent had spoken truly, the fog had become +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>so dense that one could not distinguish anything +two steps off. Moreover, on account of the tide +going out, the sea was so rough at that place in +the channel, that the best rower could not struggle +a single second against the current and waves.</p> + +<p>In despair at his powerlessness, and frightened +at the consequences of his angry act, the unfortunate +Yankee had fallen to the ground. There, oppressed +and breathless, he listened attentively to the +sounds of the deep, in the hopes of catching some +sign of life to relieve him. But none reached him. +He heard only the murmuring ripples on the shore. +The bank of fog extended around him like a winding-sheet, +and the silence of death reigned over the +whole bay. Meanwhile the sailors of the Firefly, +happy at getting off with a cold bath, plugged up +the hole which the collision had made in the boat, +and were setting it afloat. They succeeded after an +hour’s labor. Saunders imagined that a whole century +had passed, when Robertson, rousing him from +his exhaustion, told him to embark. The fog had +lifted a little and they perceived beyond them, +like a star in the gray sky, the headlight of the +Firefly.</p> + +<p>Transported so suddenly from his peaceful life +into the most frightful tragedy, the unhappy Saunders +obeyed, tottering toward the boat. When once +embarked he fell heavily upon the locker of the +stern, but he was careful not to take hold of the +helm again. Remembering with horror the use he +had made of it an hour before, he feared that it +might burn his hands.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span></p> + +<p>“Great God!” cried Mr. Robertson, all at once: +“the Gleam has put off.”</p> + +<p>Roused from his dejection by these words, Saunders +wildly peered across the bay.</p> + +<p>The Firefly alone was tossing at anchor.</p> + +<p>“This is an ugly trip and a sad affair,” said the +agent to his companion.</p> + +<p>“Horrible! dear sir, horrible!” repeated the latter +in a choked voice.</p> + +<p>“Evidently some misfortune has happened, and +Colonel Forster, in order not to be compromised, +for he could not suppose we were there for his +sake, has gone to sea, or he would have remained +in the roads. In any case, how can the truth be +known?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; how?”</p> + +<p>Then, seized by a sudden inspiration, Saunders +continued, addressing the sailors:</p> + +<p>“Boys, there is a hundred dollars for each of you +if you do not tell a word about what has just happened.”</p> + +<p>“That is understood, sir,” answered the seamen +in chorus, who, however, did not know the reason of +the presence of this stout passenger on board the +steamboat, and had seen in the meeting of the two +boats only one of those accidents at sea which they +almost daily witnessed or took part in. They did +not suspect that the life of a woman was at stake, +and that, perhaps, she was drowned with her other +companions, excepting through the exclamations of +Saunders himself.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the fishing-boat came alongside +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>the Firefly, and Robertson learned that the Gleam +had raised anchor but half an hour before.</p> + +<p>The fog had not prevented them from seeing in +what direction it had gone. However, in the hope of +meeting his rival at daybreak, Saunders did not +wish to leave the roads; but the next day the +steamer made the circuit of Staten Island in vain; +the Gleam had wholly disappeared.</p> + +<p>There was but one course to take, to return to +New York and preserve silence about the frightful +scene, in which the cracker-merchant had played so +compromising a part. The unfortunate Yankee understood +it; he handed each of the sailors the promised +one hundred dollars, and with remorse gnawing +at his heart he hid in his cabin, and did not +leave it until Robertson told him that the Firefly was +again moored to the Battery.</p> + +<p>Night permitted him to land and reach his house +without being recognized, but when he entered his +room he shut himself in as if he had all Mr. Kelly’s +agents on his tracks, and he fell into an alarming +state of nervous prostration. His night was terrible, +and the next day he strictly forbade admission, +even guarding his door, and would not read a paper +or exchange a word with his household. He refused +even to hear about business. This lasted four days, +and he began to grow somewhat calm, when his +valet, disobeying orders, handed him toward three +o’clock, a paper marked “personal and urgent,” +and bearing the seal of the central office of the +police. The unhappy Saunders opened the letter +trembling, and, when he had glanced over five +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>lines, he felt himself grow pale with fear. He +had read:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>The chief of the metropolitan police invites Mr. +William Saunders to appear without fail at the central +office to furnish all the information within his +knowledge in regard to the disappearance of Miss +Ada Ricard.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>What should he say to that brutal Kelly, whose +rudeness he had already experienced? Could he preserve +enough self-possession not to compromise himself? +Was the event at Staten Island discovered, or +still unknown? Why should the chief of police, +who would not listen to him when he went to beg +him to seek Ada Ricard, disturb himself to-day about +her disappearance?</p> + +<p>All these questions, which he did not know how +to answer, succeeded each other in the shattered +brain of the ex-lover of Miss Ada, and he trembled +in advance at the idea of the questioning which he +should have to undergo.</p> + +<p>However, he resigned himself to obey, and, after +laying out a course from which he promised himself +he would not depart, and trying his best to be calm, +he appeared before the terrible Kelly.</p> + +<p>The chief of police received him immediately, but +five minutes later the stout Saunders reeled out of +the central office with a pale, disturbed countenance, +and his forehead bathed in a cold sweat. He jumped +into his cab and said to the coachman, in accents of +terror:</p> + +<p>“To the Bellevue Hospital.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></p> + +<p>Forty-eight hours before an event had occurred +which strangely excited public curiosity, but of +which Saunders did not know, for since his dramatic +expedition he had not left the house or read +a paper.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V"> + CHAPTER V. + <br><span class="small"> + SHAKESPEARE’S TAVERN. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>The sign on this tavern was not spelled exactly +as we have given it at the head of this chapter. +Shakespeare was printed on it in two words, so that +if it recalled the celebrated English tragic poet to +the rare literary men who crossed its threshold, it +meant only the “Tavern of the Skilful Spearman” +to the sailors, wharfingers, lumpers, and others who +were the ordinary frequenters.</p> + +<p>Situated on the wharf, on South Street, opposite +Brooklyn, this tavern was admirably placed as regards +patrons. Besides, the police kept a pretty +sharp eye upon it, and affrays, pistol-shots, and +violent scenes were less frequent there than elsewhere.</p> + +<p>This was because it was managed by two jolly +fellows, who needed no help to maintain order in +the establishment. They were Honorables Thomas +Bright and Davidson, two of the most celebrated +boxers in the United States, formerly bloodthirsty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>adversaries, but now excellent friends and associates, +so true is it that the closest friendship is that which +exists between men who have fought each other +after having mutually knocked out each other’s +teeth and administered the most terrible black eyes. +Thomas Bright and Davidson said to each other that +they had done enough for the public and their reputation, +but too little for their future, and, uniting +their savings, they founded Shakespeare’s tavern, +which soon became the most attractive and paying +den of the kind.</p> + +<p>The establishment occupied the ground floor of a +large room adorned with heavy tables and benches +firmly fastened to the walls and floor, that they +might not be transformed into murderous missiles +in the hands of drunkards, and had a huge bar with +a tin top, and an army of pint measures of the same +metal.</p> + +<p>Around this bar crowded stray patrons, passers-by, +and curious idlers; in short, those who were +not initiated in the delights of the oyster-room, +which one reached only by stumbling down a long +flight of stairs, doubly dangerous because the steps +were damp, and an almost complete darkness +reigned, even in broad daylight. At the first step +to the vault of this crypt one coughed, seized in +the throat, as it were, by a dense, hot atmosphere, +laden with a thousand varied emanations, and it +was some moments before the eyes could see +through the thick mist formed at the foot of the +stairs by the air, which, by reason of physical laws, +sought to renew itself in the atmosphere without.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> + +<p>This second room was less scantily furnished than +that on the ground floor. There were tables +and movable chairs, and a very large buffet, laden +with fresh and salted meats. Above an immense +oven there was a gridiron made to receive a whole +ox.</p> + +<p>The ground was macadamized, and the walls, +once white, were now black, excepting in spots, +where, owing to the contact of shoulders, they +seemed gray, and were illustrated with primitive +designs and mottoes which we need not translate. +A dozen gas jets, clouded in the smoke, looking like +nebulæ in the mist, lighted as well as they could, if +not as well as they ought, this underground region, +which was invaded by familiar patrons until they +had made a day of it.</p> + +<p>At the moment when we ask our readers to follow +us into the oyster-room of Shakespeare’s tavern—that +is, forty-eight hours after the sad expedition +of Willie Saunders to Staten Island—the house was +already full, although the night was far advanced. +The damp, cold atmosphere had driven from the +wharf all the laborers whose presence could be +spared, and only stragglers remained on it. Certain +wharfingers themselves had deserted their posts. +Besides these, here and there one saw, around tables +covered with glasses of hot gin, sailors of every +country waiting for the time to go aboard. One of +these groups had so victoriously struggled against +the depressing influence of the inclement weather +without that a rollicking, noisy gaiety prevailed +among them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> + +<p>They were the sailors of the Firefly, who had jovially +poured from their pockets into the cash-drawer +of Thomas Bright and Davidson poor Saunders’ dollars—their +hush money.</p> + +<p>“Come, one more swig all round,” said one of +the sailors; and, rapping noisily on the table, he +shouted: “Here, waiter, fetch us some whiskey, +and mind it is the right stuff, too.”</p> + +<p>“No,” observed his neighbor, “we have had +enough for to-day; we ought to have been back two +hours ago. Devil take it, to-morrow will be daylight. +You are drunk, Jim.”</p> + +<p>“Drunk,” replied the latter, “well, Charley, what +of it? The fat man did not give us a hundred dollars +apiece for a pension.”</p> + +<p>“It was for no more or less than to make us hold +our tongues,” said Charley, warmly. “No good +American sailor will fail to keep his word.”</p> + +<p>The other two sailors nodded approvingly, pointing +to the adjoining tables where the other patrons +of Shakespeare’s tavern might hear.</p> + +<p>“There, that’s enough,” grumbled Jim; “we will +be as mute as a whale; but I am thirsty,” and, +seizing one of the waiters as he passed, he ordered +four glasses of whiskey.</p> + +<p>It was best for the drunken man’s friends to give +in to him. They, therefore, beckoned to the servant +to serve them quietly. Charley then whispered:</p> + +<p>“While we are lounging here, suppose any one +should be robbing us on board ship, as they robbed +Toby the other night on his wharf while he was +drinking, instead of watching over his goods.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p> + +<p>“What!” sang out a tall fellow enveloped in oil-cloth +from head to foot; “what of Toby robbed? +Why, it was his robber who cheated himself.”</p> + +<p>“How’s that?” cried the sailors.</p> + +<p>“Yes, to be sure; instead of taking a barrel of +brandy, as, no doubt, was his intention, he carried +off a barrel of tar. If it didn’t stick to his paws he +must have hurled it into the water. Here’s to the +health of the imbecile; although I lost my place +through him, I don’t care, for I have come to +Shakespeare’s tavern, and it is much livelier here +than at the head of the river;” and, after noisily +touching glasses with the men of the Firefly, the +wharfinger, for it was he, tossed off his glass of gin +at one swallow.</p> + +<p>“I can’t help it, but I feel no security,” said +Charley; “for some time there has been a regular +sweep on board ship and along the river. Come, +let’s be on our way, boys.”</p> + +<p>While saying this the seaman had placed Jim’s +arm within his, and was towing him along toward +the stairs.</p> + +<p>Toby followed them.</p> + +<p>They arrived at the wharf in this manner, one +shoving the other along.</p> + +<p>Day was beginning to break, but the river was still +enveloped in fog. The masts of ships at anchor +were faintly outlined above their invisible hulls. +They looked as if suspended in the air. The boat +of the Firefly was moored to one of the piles on the +wharf of which Toby had been watchman only two +days.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p> + +<p>“Let us go aboard, boys,” said Charley, hauling +in the yawl.</p> + +<p>“Stop; what’s that over there?” asked Toby, +suddenly, who had gone to the edge of the wharf, +and was pointing to a floating object which the +motion of the boat had sent ashore; “a foot!”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, a foot,” said the sailor, raising the +member with the end of his boat-hook; “a foot and +a leg.”</p> + +<p>“And all the rest,” continued the watchman; “it +is a drowned person. How heavy it is. There +must be a stone around the neck to be head-downward +like this. Come, help me, the rest of +you.”</p> + +<p>The sailors leaned over the river, and uniting their +efforts brought to the surface a body, whose unusual +weight was soon explained to them; a barrel of tar +was fastened to the left leg. It was by this half-submerged +barrel that this body had been kept under +water.</p> + +<p>“It is a woman,” cried Charley.</p> + +<p>“And a superb one.”</p> + +<p>“What an idea to throw her into the river with a +barrel of tar.”</p> + +<p>“It is a droll one, to be sure.”</p> + +<p>“A barrel of tar. Perhaps it is the one stolen +from me.”</p> + +<p>While exchanging these exclamations, the seamen, +aided by Toby, had raised the body and extended +it on the planks of the wharf, without +unfastening from its leg the barrel which a stout +rope held secure.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> + +<p>It was, indeed, the corpse of a young woman. It +showed no signs of wounds and was not decomposed. +The face alone was slightly swollen, but +by no means disfigured.</p> + +<p>Hardened as they were to every emotion, the +sailors gazed at this body in horror. The sight of +it sobered the drunken men. The men knew that +here before their eyes was the victim of some horrible +tragedy. The discovery of a drowned person, +workman or seaman, would not have moved them; +but this woman, young and beautiful, shocked +them.</p> + +<p>“We cannot leave her here,” said Charley finally. +“Go and notify Shakespeare’s tavern.”</p> + +<p>The comrade to whom he spoke hurried away +from the other side of the wharf. Toby, with that +sentiment of decency, more common than is believed +among the lowest classes, stripped himself +of his oil-cloth suit and covered the nude corpse.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, Thomas Bright, Davidson and +the patrons who had lingered in their establishment +hastened to the wharf.</p> + +<p>Charley acquainted them with what had passed.</p> + +<p>“Well, my boys, there is only one thing to do,” +said Davidson; “summon the coroner at Saint +Vincent and wait for him, and don’t disturb the +body.”</p> + +<p>One of the spectators immediately set out for the +police office of the district, which happened to be +in a neighboring street, and several policemen, +whom the crowd had attracted, guarded the body, +after driving away curious idlers on the wharf and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>retaining about them only the men of the Firefly +and Toby.</p> + +<p>Day had dawned, and the fog had cleared away +somewhat. The wharf presented a strange scene, +with the silent, motionless men gathered around +this lifeless body.</p> + +<p>“It is odd,” said Toby, “that I should find my +barrel of tar in this way. It is really mine, for I +recognize the mark upon it.”</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue, you fool,” said Charley, in a +low voice; “there will certainly be a reward for +those who put the police on the track of the assassins; +it will be time then to speak.”</p> + +<p>The watchman understood, thanked him with a +smile, and became silent again. In less than a +quarter of an hour the coroner arrived with his +secretary. Furious, no doubt, at having been disturbed +so early, he interrupted Charley, who had +begun the story of his sad discovery, and said:</p> + +<p>“That will do; I understand all about it. Now +let two willing men carry this body to the morgue. +The rest of you, who drew it out of the water, +must follow me, to make your depositions.”</p> + +<p>Two men raised the body; a third carried the +barrel which the coroner bade them not unfasten. +Then, preceded by the policemen, accompanied by +the sailors of the Firefly and Toby, and escorted by +curious idlers, the gloomy procession started off. +After walking ten minutes they reached their destination. +The door of the morgue opened to admit +the bearers of the body and witnesses, and closed +upon the crowd. In a few moments the coroner +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>received the depositions of the sailors and the +wharfingers; then, after having taken their names +and addresses, he dismissed them.</p> + +<p>The men on the yacht hastened to their boat to +return on board ship, while Toby, who was careful +to show no recognition of the tar barrel, but who +had again donned his oil-cloth suit, went back to +the wharf, where the crowd, which had considerably +enlarged, immediately gathered around him.</p> + +<p>He had to tell his story twenty times over, and +news of the event spread so rapidly that Shakespeare’s +tavern, to the great delight of its honorable +proprietors, was soon thronged as on a holiday.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the coroner at Saint Vincent had +made his report, despatched the body to the central +morgue at Bellevue Hospital, and had presented +himself to Mr. Kelly at the general police office. +The fat officer listened to his subaltern without a +shadow of emotion, approved what he had done +and immediately sent an order to the director of +the morgue to photograph the dead woman.</p> + +<p>The corpse was afterwards delivered to Dr. +O’Neel in order that the autopsy might be made +without delay. When this was performed it would +be exposed according to the regulations.</p> + +<p>Having given these instructions and dismissed +the coroner, the honorable Kelly quietly proceeded +to his dining-room, where, as usual, he lingered +long over his breakfast. Not until three o’clock did +he remember the drowned woman, when he took a +cab for Bellevue Hospital.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI"> + CHAPTER VI. + <br><span class="small"> + THE MORGUE AT BELLEVUE HOSPITAL. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>The event having made a great stir through the +noon editions of the papers, an immense crowd +gathered in the vicinity of the morgue, and was +with difficulty kept back by twenty policemen.</p> + +<p>The corpse was already exposed, and the impatient +crowd were jostling each other in order to +satisfy their curiosity by a sight of it.</p> + +<p>This was the condition of things when the massive +Kelly alighted from his carriage at the door of +the Bellevue Hospital.</p> + +<p>The body found in the river by the sailors a few +hours before occupied the middle of the exhibition +hall, hardly a yard away from the glass partition +before which the curious filed by. Completely +nude, as it was when taken from the water, excepting +a leather apron which reached the knees. +The corpse was seen to be a woman about twenty-five +years old, who must have been remarkably +beautiful. With a figure above medium height, of +rich but not exaggerated proportions, her shoulders +and limbs were admirably modeled. Her hands +were small, and her feet not so large as those of a +young girl of fifteen. Around her head floated her +long fair hair. Her features were but little disfigured. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span>Her countenance betrayed no painful +struggle except, perhaps, around her mouth, the +upper lip being slightly contorted. Although her +eyes were open, it was difficult to certify to their +color, for they were beginning to be glazed, but one +could divine that their now sightless pupils had +cast many a bewitching glance.</p> + +<p>This is what the men said who gazed at it cynically, +the majority with more curiosity than pity, +and the policemen had some difficulty in making +the line of spectators, to whom the drowned woman +was unknown, move on.</p> + +<p>At the same time, the chief of police had received +Doctor O’Neel’s report, and, after casting an indifferent +glance at the dead, he returned to his office, +where, comfortably ensconced in his large leather +arm-chair, he began to examine the work of the +legal physician.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The document read as follows:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>The body submitted to my examination and of +which I have this day, Wednesday, made an autopsy, +is that of a woman from twenty-two to +twenty-five years old. In spite of its perfect state +of preservation it would be impossible for me to say +within two or three days how long it has been in +the water, for the use which the living must have +made of arsenic like a great many American women, +with the intention of preserving the freshness +of their complexion and the roundness of their +forms, retards, as is well known, to a great degree +the decomposition of corpses. That which I can attest +is that the body is not that of a drowned woman. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>Indeed, I have proved that there is no trace +of foam in the larynx. The lungs are congested, +but they have not increased in volume or density. +Now the absence of a frothy mucus in the air passages +is an incontestable proof that death is not due +to submersion. This woman had ceased to live +when she was thrown into the water.</p> + +<p>What kind of death did she suffer? This is impossible +to state. It was not a case of strangulation +nor poisoning. The neck shows no sign of violence, +and a chemical analysis of the stomach, liver, +and intestines has not so far shown the presence in +these organs of any poisonous substance; but it will +be necessary to wait several days to obtain absolute +certainty on this particular.</p> + +<p>No wound, no contusion on the body, excepting +above the right knee, where there is a bluish mark +of the rope fastening the tar barrel to the body, and +which, in the belief of the murderer, would hold his +victim at the bottom of the water.</p> + +<p>On the contrary it was this barrel of tar, staved in +by fermentation or the shock, which caused the body +to float sooner than it would otherwise have done.</p> + +<p>The woman had a good constitution and no organic +affection. She took nice care of herself.</p> + +<p>I have observed that among her teeth—which +are very beautiful—the second canine on the right +is wanting, and that the inferior lobe of her left ear +bears the scar of an old wound.</p> + +<p>To resume, I think that this woman, surprised in +her sleep, must have been overpowered by inhaling +some strong narcotic—chloroform or ether. But I +have not discovered any natural disturbances in the +organs to absolutely confirm my hypothesis. Three +or four hours had elapsed between the death of the +victim and her last meal.</p> + +<p class="sig0"> + (Signed) <span style="margin-left: 6em;" class="smcap">O’Neel</span>,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Head Surgeon at Bellevue Hospital.</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p> + +<p>“Well, well, all this is curious,” murmured Fat +Kelly. “When this young woman is recognized, +Master Young will put himself in the field; if she +is not recognized then, that dear William Dow must +take it up.”</p> + +<p>Master Young, as the chief of the metropolitan +police familiarly called him, was the captain of the +detectives. William Dow, whom Kelly so affectionately +designated, was a strange and mysterious +character.</p> + +<p>Less than two years before the time in which this +story took place, William Dow was one of the most +distinguished, most wealthy, and honorable physicians +in Philadelphia; but one day he suddenly left +that city to establish himself in New York. There +he joined the force of the chief of police, and had +gradually become one of his auxiliaries, as a voluntary +aid, who showed himself disinterested and +very useful.</p> + +<p>Several times already he had done wonderful +things, quietly, by the means of his sole resources, +intelligence, courage, persistency, and energy.</p> + +<p>What was the reason of this transformation of a +doctor into a policeman? It was a mystery to +everyone, even to Mr. Kelly. We may reveal it +some day.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile let us return to the honorable chief +of the metropolitan police of New York, who had +rung for his secretary, and had given him the order +to send for Captain Young. The latter appeared a +few minutes later. He was a tall man, about forty +years old, built like a giant, and brave as a lion, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>of moderate intelligence, and as obstinate as a mule. +When he was on the wrong track he would stick to +it, whatever effort was made to put him on the right +one. The administration kept him in his position +because he was good at a blow, and no one was +more intrepid than he in a hand-to-hand scuffle.</p> + +<p>The pickpockets and malefactors in the city and +State of New York feared him alone more than all +his brigade. When he, at the head of his men, +made a raid in the most dangerous quarters of the +city, in the midst of an affray or a riot among working-men, +there was a general stampede.</p> + +<p>But when there was any delicate mission, one of +those cases that need working up, finesse, a keen +scent and patience, Master Young was stupid; the +game would slip through his hands.</p> + +<p>He was then delighted to see the intelligent William +Dow appear on the scene, of whom he was a +little jealous, but whose superiority he had the good +sense to recognize.</p> + +<p>“Captain,” said Kelly, giving Young the report +of the Saint Vincent coroner, “read that and set to +work. It is about the drowned woman found near +Wharf 32, opposite Shakespeare’s tavern. Have +Bright’s establishment watched, and scour all the +bad places on the wharf. It is probable that she is +some girl whose clothing and jewelry have tempted +the assassins.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to give orders to my men,” answered +the detective, taking the papers.</p> + +<p>“Do not forget to station intelligent agents at +the morgue and in the vicinity of the hospital.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span></p> + +<p>“That was my intention, sir.”</p> + +<p>“It will also be well to put one of your agents on +the wharf itself in the costume of a guard. Malefactors +can hardly resist the desire to revisit the +places of their crime, and, although the woman +certainly was not thrown in the water where she +was found, it might be that those concerned would +be prowling around in that direction. But be sure +and keep me informed of the slightest incidents +which take place in regard to this affair. If the +body is not recognized to-day or to-morrow, there +are certain measures I shall think about taking. +Go ahead, captain.”</p> + +<p>Young gave a military salute and left to execute +these orders, while the honorable chief, drawing +other documents toward him, set himself to work +without thinking any more of the body, past which +the crowd, becoming more and more numerous, +continued to move in file.</p> + +<p>Night came on and the drowned woman had not +been recognized, and the doors of the morgue were +closed; but the event formed the staple of the +evening’s conversation all over the city, and Shakespeare’s +tavern was crowded.</p> + +<p>The next morning at daybreak more than ten +thousand persons thronged around Bellevue Hospital, +and at eight o’clock the dreary visiting began +again. Suddenly, toward noon, one of the curious +crowd cried:</p> + +<p>“Why, I recognize her; it is Miss Ada Ricard. +Yes, it surely is she.”</p> + +<p>“Ada Ricard?” questioned the bystanders.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span></p> + +<p>Without giving him time to answer anyone, the +agents on watch at the morgue hastened to the +man who was the first to speak this name, and +drew him to the clerk’s office.</p> + +<p>Although somewhat moved, the man was otherwise +quite calm, and seemed to have nothing to +fear. He was about thirty years old, correctly +dressed, and seemed to be a servant in some well-to-do +family.</p> + +<p>“Do you recognize the dead woman?” asked the +clerk, to whom one of the detectives had imparted +what had happened.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the stranger, “I think so, +at least. It seems to me that it is Miss Ada Ricard, +who lived at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street.”</p> + +<p>“What is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Robert Fowl; I was Miss Ada’s coachman +once.”</p> + +<p>“Then you think you could recall her features?”</p> + +<p>“Without doubt.”</p> + +<p>“And are you certain that you recognize her?”</p> + +<p>“To be absolutely certain I must see her nearer. +You can understand how surprised I was.”</p> + +<p>“We can understand that. I am going to order +the curtains to be drawn down.”</p> + +<p>Around the dead in the New York morgue there +are heavy curtains of green serge with which the windows +are covered; in order that the body may not +have to be moved when it is recognized, the officials +separate it from the crowd by dropping the curtains.</p> + +<p>A few moments later, while the curious spectators, +deprived of their view, were entertaining all kinds of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>suppositions and murmuring a little, the clerk, the +director, and Fowl entered the exhibition-room and +approached the corpse.</p> + +<p>“Oh! yes; it is really she,” said the coachman, +with considerable emotion, leaning over the face of +the drowned woman. “Poor creature.”</p> + +<p>“It was Miss Ada you said?” asked the clerk.</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada Ricard, yes. There is another way by +which I can make sure of it; I often remarked +when Miss Ada laughed, and she was very lively, +that a tooth was wanting on the right side.”</p> + +<p>“And this woman lacks a tooth on the right,” +affirmed the director of the morgue, pointing to the +dead woman’s mouth, whose upper lip, slightly +raised, permitted them to attest the fact asserted +by Fowl, a fact to which Doctor O’Neel had already +certified in his report.</p> + +<p>“It is really she, it is really she,” murmured the +dead woman’s former servant.</p> + +<p>Convinced that the man could not be mistaken +the clerk conducted him into his office and, after +taking his full name, and the address of the victim, +immediately telegraphed the information to Mr. +Kelly.</p> + +<p>“Ada Ricard!” cried the chief of police, after +having read the despatch; “why, it is that girl +about whom that fat Saunders wished to interest +me a week ago—and they really carried her off.” +Calling his secretary he ordered him to invite the +honorable cracker-merchant to immediately call at +his office.</p> + +<p>We already know the effect of this invitation on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>the impressionable Yankee, and in what state of +fear he gasped out to his coachman as he left Mr. +Kelly’s—</p> + +<p>“To Bellevue Hospital!”</p> + +<p>The chief of police had said to him without any +preamble:</p> + +<p>“They described to me as Ada Ricard the woman +who was drawn out of the river yesterday morning. +She is exhibited at the morgue; go and see if it is +she. You will not be mistaken, surely.”</p> + +<p>The unfortunate Saunders, without daring to +utter a word, went as he was bidden.</p> + +<p>When he reached the door of the hospital he was +frightened at the sight of all the people whom the +policemen were driving back; for, since Fowl’s +declaration, the curtains of the exhibition-hall had +not been raised.</p> + +<p>He, however, alighted from his carriage, and +when, in a stammering voice, he had told one of the +agents the motive that brought him there, the man +made a passage for him.</p> + +<p>Saunders crossed the public hall rapidly, but +when he reached the door of the clerk’s office he +felt his legs give way beneath him. If an arm had +not supported him just then he would have fallen +to the floor. He turned to thank the person who +had aided him so opportunely, and just managed +to stifle a cry of terror, for there beside him, placing +one hand on his shoulder, as if he were a criminal, +he recognized the terrible Captain Young.</p> + +<p>“Come in, Mr. Saunders; come in,” said the +chief of detectives, in his rough voice. He knew +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span>the cracker-merchant by sight, and knew why he +had come to the morgue. “That man, perhaps, +was mistaken, but you——”</p> + +<p>While giving him a faint hope, these three words +of Young reminded the unhappy man of the last +words addressed to him by Mr. Kelly, with a kind +of sinister irony. “You will not be mistaken, +surely,” and, with his head hung down, he hurried +into the clerk’s office, then from there, followed by +the director, Captain Young, and two or three other +persons, into the exhibition-hall.</p> + +<p>When he reached the threshold of this horrible +place, and perceived the motionless body they said +belonged to her whom he had so much loved, +and with whose death he had reproached himself, +he put his hands to his forehead and veiled his +eyes, while his feet were riveted to the damp flag-stones.</p> + +<p>“Come, be courageous; come on!” said the +director of the morgue.</p> + +<p>Poor Saunders, summoning all the energy that +was left in him, moved forward; but when he +found himself face to face with the corpse, he +gave an inarticulate cry and fell on his knees, murmuring:</p> + +<p>“Ada, my Ada, forgive me! Unhappy man that +I am, it was I who killed you,” and he sank fainting +to the floor.</p> + +<p>“By George,” muttered Captain Young, without +attempting to conceal his satisfaction, “we have +made a double stroke; we have found the name +of the victim and the murderer in the same hour.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></p> + +<p>Turning to the agents who accompanied him, he +added:</p> + +<p>“Hello, you two watch over this fat fellow here, +and when he recovers take him to the central office. +I will go and notify Mr. Kelly.”</p> + +<p>The policemen raised Saunders and bore him to +the clerk’s office.</p> + +<p>“Pardon, my dear captain,” said some one just +then to Young, whom the latter had not perceived, +“perhaps you are going ahead rather too fast.”</p> + +<p>“Why! is that you, Mr. Dow?” answered the +chief of detectives. “Why do you think I am going +ahead too fast? Did you hear the voluntary and +spontaneous confession of this man?”</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, William Dow, whom we need not +describe to our readers. Having, like every one +else, heard about the drowned woman, he was at +the morgue through mere curiosity. When he perceived +the captain and Saunders as they were entering +the clerk’s office, he followed them there, and +then into the exhibition-room, where, cool, calm, and +observing, as he was always to be found, witnessed +the scene we have just described.</p> + +<p>“What you call the confession of Miss Ada’s +former lover proves nothing. I can hardly believe +that that fat man killed her. He is an honorable +merchant, and very wealthy, and to arrest him on +a suspicion is, perhaps, imprudent.”</p> + +<p>“What is to be done, then?” asked the detective, +visibly embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“Is it my advice you are asking?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p> + +<p>“Well, if I were in your place, I should take Mr. +Saunders home, for he seems to me to be threatened +with an attack of apoplexy. If he is not the murderer, +he is an important witness. Do not kill him +in advance until he has told you all he knows or +thinks about this strange event.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Mr. Dow—always right.”</p> + +<p>The long-legged Young hurried into the office, +where Mr. Saunders was beginning to recover consciousness.</p> + +<p>“Ada, poor Ada,” he stammered, looking around +him wildly.</p> + +<p>Then he added, in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“Oh, that colonel, I will kill him! He is the +cause of everything. It is not I, gentlemen, it is not +I; I loved her too much. Oh, the wretched masks—the +Indians!”</p> + +<p>“You see he is talking at random,” whispered +William Dow to the chief of the detectives, and approaching +the merchant, he said to him: “Come, +sir, have courage. It is a misfortune, but what can +you do about it? A man ought to have more pluck. +We must now find the assassin. Return home; the +magistrate in charge of the affair will question you +when it is time. Do you wish me to accompany +you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, yes,” gasped Saunders, making an +effort to rise.</p> + +<p>William Dow took hold of his arm to support +him, and, both leaving the clerk’s office, they passed +through the crowd which had already learned the +name of the drowned woman, and respectfully +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>moved aside for the man they took for the father +or one of the near relatives of the victim. The detective +helped the cracker-merchant to enter his +carriage, seated himself near him, and they drove +off, while Captain Young jumped into a cab to give +an account to Mr. Kelly of what he had just witnessed.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII"> + CHAPTER VII. + <br><span class="small"> + SAUNDERS ALMOST LOSES HIS MIND, WHILE CAPTAIN + YOUNG WHOLLY LOSES HIS TIME. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>As soon as Captain Young had reported what had +passed at the morgue, Mr. Kelly’s first act was to +notify the sheriff of the district to meet him at No. +17 East Twenty-third Street, and he set out immediately +for this place in company with the detective. +The chief of the police wished to see things for himself, +and to profit by the occasion that was offered +him to visit the house of this Ada Ricard, of whom +he had heard so much.</p> + +<p>These two gentlemen found on the threshold of +the house Sheriff Mortimer waiting for them. In a +few words they acquainted him with the situation, +then rang the bell. Mary, who answered it +at once, could not help a movement of terror at the +sight of these three stern-looking men, who were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>unknown to her. The sheriff gave his name, and +the visitors entered a small reception-room on the +ground-floor.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” then asked stout Mr. Kelly, of +the young girl, as he sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>“The maid of Miss Ada Ricard,” answered Mary, +with a certain calmness.</p> + +<p>“Well, Miss Ada Ricard, your mistress, is at the +morgue; she has been found drowned in the river,” +said her questioner, abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada drowned!” cried the servant; “it is +impossible.”</p> + +<p>“Why impossible?” resumed Kelly. “Did you +know where she was?”</p> + +<p>“No, not positively; but I believed her on a voyage, +for the day after my mistress was carried away +she wrote me that she would be absent a month at +least—perhaps more.”</p> + +<p>“She has returned sooner, but dead. You say +that she wrote you. Where is the letter?”</p> + +<p>“I gave it to Mr. Saunders, who came just as I +had received it.”</p> + +<p>“Did your mistress receive any one else?”</p> + +<p>“Never.”</p> + +<p>“Did she go out often?”</p> + +<p>“Very seldom, and I am certain she had no relatives +in the city. She had confidence in me and told +me everything.”</p> + +<p>“Had you had any news of her after that letter +of which you speak?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; and I was perfectly free from anxiety. +Miss Ada ordered me to dismiss the servants and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>take care of the house until her return. I cannot +believe that she is dead.”</p> + +<p>“You must go to the morgue to identify her.”</p> + +<p>“I am ready to obey your orders, sir.”</p> + +<p>“In the first place show us the house; are you +alone here?”</p> + +<p>“Quite alone.”</p> + +<p>Saying this, Mary showed the magistrates into +the dining-room; then, while the terrible Young +visited the kitchens down-stairs, she ascended the +first flight with Kelly and the sheriff.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Ah! It is very fine here; there are signs +of Saunders’ gifts, he is a lavish fellow,” the sceptical +Kelly could not help saying as he crossed the +parlors where we conducted our readers in the first +chapter of this story.</p> + +<p>Let us continue. They passed into the sleeping-room. +It was a delightful room, hung in blue +satin, embroidered with flowers and birds. The bed +was a marvel of costliness and taste; the floor was +completely covered by a soft Turkish rug.</p> + +<p>“Is that all?” said the chief of police.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps the gentlemen would like to see the +dressing and bathing-room,” suggested the young +girl.</p> + +<p>“Dear me,” said Kelly, looking at Mortimer with +a peculiar smile.</p> + +<p>Mary raised the heavy portiere and introduced the +two magistrates into an adjoining room, the sight +of which drew an “o-o-oh!” of admiration even +from the grave sheriff himself.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible, indeed, to dream of anything +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>more dainty than this room, for Ada Ricard +had made it a real boudoir. The smallest articles of +the toilet were objects of art, as well as Venetian +mirrors and the small Bohemian glass lamps which +hung from a ceiling draped with rare Japanese material. +As for the bath-room, which communicated +with the dressing-room, it was of white marble and +silver. This room alone must have cost a large +sum. It was there that Captain Young rejoined +the two officers.</p> + +<p>After searching the basement, the chief of detectives +had visited the upper story, where were the +linen closets and servants’ rooms, and he stated that +he found no one there or in the kitchens, and that +everything was in order.</p> + +<p>The house, indeed, had no appearance of being +abandoned. It looked like one whose mistress was +soon to return. When one thought that its mistress +was lying on the slabs in the morgue, it sent a chill +to the heart.</p> + +<p>Kelly’s besetting sin was not sensibility. The delight +of this wealth awoke in his mind but one +thought, “Who will be the heir of all this?” and it +naturally led him to say to Mary: “Where are the +jewels of your mistress?”</p> + +<p>“Those which madam did not wear on the day +of her departure,” she answered, “are in a little +scarlet chest in the wardrobe of her sleeping-room. +Miss Ada, no doubt, has the key about her, for I +have not found it in looking over things, and her +bank notes and money must be in that same chest. +There were only twenty dollars in gold on her dressing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span>table, of which I made use to settle the servants’ +accounts. The remainder of the sum is up in +my room.”</p> + +<p>“Are you acquainted with Miss Ada’s family?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I know that my mistress had been +married, but I do not know the name of her husband. +He lived, I think, in Buffalo. She never +spoke of any relatives.”</p> + +<p>“They must be found, however, for now everything +here belongs to them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they will present themselves fast enough +if it is found that madam is really dead.”</p> + +<p>“You soon will cease to doubt.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Why? Because you are going to the morgue to +identify the body. Captain Young will accompany +you, and escort you afterwards to the judge to +make your statement. After which you will return +to pack up your clothing and receive my orders.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p>Greatly impressed, either by the mere fact of the +terrible news which she had just heard, or by the +manner in which the big, surly man had talked to +her, Mary went up to her room accompanied by the +terrible Young, who did not say a word, but disturbed +her by looking at her in a manner he fancied +searching, and grumbling disconnected sentences. +On reaching her room, the young lady hastily put +on her hat and threw a cloak over her shoulders, +and then rejoined the magistrates in the large parlor +on the first floor. Mr. Mortimer was making an +entry in his note-book.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span></p> + +<p>“In the first place,” said Mr. Kelly to the maid, +“lock up the furniture, and give the keys to the +sheriff.”</p> + +<p>Still accompanied by the giant detective, Mary +went over the silent house again, from basement to +attic, and a moment later returned and handed a +bunch of keys to Mortimer.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said the chief, “we can leave.”</p> + +<p>They all four descended the steps, and when they +had reached the street, the sheriff locked the doors +of the house; then after calling a policeman from +the sidewalk opposite, bade him watch the house, +and went away with Kelly. As for Captain Young, +after stopping a carriage passing, he entered it with +the maid, shouting to the driver in a stentorian +voice: “To the central morgue, Bellevue Hospital.”</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later they arrived. Night +was coming on; and the exhibition-hall was somewhat +dark when Mary entered it with Young and +the clerk. At the sight of the corpse the girl, already +excited, began to tremble, and the detective +had to support her.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he said rudely, “come and look at it.”</p> + +<p>“But I can’t see a thing, sir,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>The director of the morgue had foreseen this, and +beckoned to one of the workmen who had a lantern, +and turned its light upon the face of the dead +woman. It stood out in the glare of light, while +the body remained somewhat in shadow, and was +horrible to see; not that it was disfigured, but because +of the optical conditions in which it appeared.</p> + +<p>Mary, whom the captain, still holding by the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>arm, had led up to touch the corpse, uttered a cry +of terror.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the pitiless guide, “let’s get through +with it. It is really your mistress, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>The young girl, fortifying herself with all the +courage she possessed, resolved to look straight at +the corpse, and immediately answered:</p> + +<p>“No, no; that woman is not Miss Ada.”</p> + +<p>“What!” cried the clerk and Young at the +same moment, in a tone of amazement impossible +to convey. “Not Miss Ada? Why, her former +coachman recognized her at once.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t recognize her,” said Mary with certain +positiveness. “This woman resembles her +very much, but I don’t think it is she. At least I +could not declare it is. Yet, it is strange; but, oh! +dear, I am afraid, gentlemen; do let me go away.”</p> + +<p>“We must have a positive answer,” said the +captain. “Devil take you, do try. Take one good +look at her.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot, my mind, my eyes are confused, my +head swims, take me away,” stammered the young +girl turning aside her head.</p> + +<p>On saying these words she had, indeed, become +pale, and had it not been for the aid of the detective +would have fallen to the ground.</p> + +<p>Finding that they could accomplish nothing +further for the moment, at least, they led her +to the clerk’s room. There she became calmer, +and in a few moments was able to enter the carriage +with Captain Young, who took her to the +sheriff’s.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> + +<p>The maid, who had recovered her composure, +declared to this magistrate that she had not positively +recognized her mistress in the drowned +woman, but that her emotion, it was true, had not +enabled her to look with sufficient attention. Mr. +Mortimer made her sign an official report to this +effect, and they then returned to poor Ada’s house, +from which the young girl took away her belongings.</p> + +<p>By agreement with the coroner, while waiting +until the worthy sheriff had appointed a watch +over the house, in which it had been decided that +Mary should be included, that she might recognize +persons who might appear, she was required to live +in a house in the neighborhood and hold herself at +the orders of the justices.</p> + +<p>These formalities arranged, and Mary being established +at Washington Hotel, Mr. Mortimer hastened +to the chief of police to tell him how things +had gone on at the morgue.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Kelly, “the affair is becoming complicated. +That foolish girl was frightened, no +doubt, but we shall soon know what to do. I have +given orders to have all Ada Ricard’s former servants +appear at the morgue the first thing to-morrow +morning.”</p> + +<p>This measure, which would usually necessitate +long and difficult search, was executed in New +York with great ease and despatch, by reason of +the intelligent method which the American police +employ to keep the whole body of household servants +within call.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p> + +<p>Every servant, to whatever class he belongs, receives +a dollar when he goes to the coroner in his +district and states that he is to enter into service +at such or such a house, and they also give him +one dollar when he changes his place and gives the +address of the new house he is to enter.</p> + +<p>In circumstances like those which arose from +the violent death of Ada Ricard, the police and +magistrate thus know where to find at once people +whose information might be of importance.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly, therefore, was almost certain that the +majority of the former servants of the dead woman +would come to Bellevue Hospital the next day; and +as Doctor O’Neel had informed him that, under the +influence of the air and the place in which it was +exposed, the body would rapidly decompose, he +had engaged Albert Moor, the skilful modeler of +the Anatomical Museum of the School of Medicine, +to come to the hospital.</p> + +<p>As for the unhappy Saunders, whom we left at +the close of the preceding chapter, after leaving +the house with William Dow, he returned home in +a state of complete prostration.</p> + +<p>His physician, whom they called at once, feared +congestion of the brain, and he forbade visitors. +In spite of this order, toward eight o’clock a man +disregarded it, and entered the sleeping room where +the unfortunate cracker-merchant, lying exhausted +in an arm-chair, with his lower lip hanging down, +and his eyes suffused, murmured as he gazed at a +photograph:</p> + +<p>“Poor Ada! poor Ada! Why did I not jump +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>into the water to save you?” The man who entered +was Robertson, Jr.</p> + +<p>Saunders barely recognized him, but his visitor +none the less said to him, trying to make himself +understood:</p> + +<p>“It is a great misfortune, dear sir, and you must +form some plan. But, you know, communications +which we make to our clients are absolutely confidential, +and the steps we take in their interest must +remain secret. I have not the honor of being acquainted +with you. I have never had the pleasure +of seeing you, or of taking a walk with you. What +the police may seek, find or not find, is their affair, +not ours.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes; down there at Staten Island, at night,” +gasped Saunders.</p> + +<p>“I do not know what you mean,” quietly remarked +the young head of the house of Robertson +Brothers & Co.</p> + +<p>Saunders looked at him with the eye of an idiot, +made a visible effort to answer him, but his face +sank heavily in his hands, and he repeated: “Poor +Ada, poor Ada!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Robertson shrugged his shoulders and left. +His lips formed into a smile of satisfaction, for, in +his opinion, the former protector of the drowned +woman had not had a gleam of reason in his brain +for twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the intrepid Young scattered his agents +all along the wharves, and ransacked the innumerable +dens from Shakespeare’s tavern to Harlem, but +in vain, finding no sign of any useful information.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII"> + CHAPTER VIII. + <br><span class="small"> + TAKING A CAST OF THE DEAD. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>The next day, before noon, the majority of the +former servants of Miss Ada had presented themselves +at the morgue, and all, unhesitatingly, with +the exception of two or three, had recognized the +unfortunate woman. The girl July, whose place +Mary had taken at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street, +furnished some information, which, of itself alone, +would have sufficed to dispel all doubts, if any +had remained after these successive affirmations.</p> + +<p>July remembered having seen, as she dressed her +mistress’ hair, that her left ear was torn. Now, +this wound had not escaped the eye of Dr. O’Neel, +and he specified it in his report of the autopsy.</p> + +<p>The drowned woman was really Miss Ada +Ricard. This was the first indisputable point +made at the inquest, of which Coroner Davis +took charge.</p> + +<p>Therefore, it was not necessary to study any +further into the identity of the victim, but to seek +her murderer.</p> + +<p>First of all, it was necessary to proceed to burial, +but not without taking an absolutely faithful image +of the corpse, in order to reserve the possibility of +any other recognition, or of even confronting it with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>the murderer, should he be discovered. It was for +this end that the chief of police had made an appointment +with Albert Moor, the sculptor.</p> + +<p>The woman had been photographed, and the likenesses +had been reproduced and distributed in great +number; but Mr. Kelly required even more.</p> + +<p>Albert Moor had been at the morgue a long while +when Mr. Kelly arrived, who explained to him that +he wished a cast of the woman’s head. The artist, +who had examined the corpse, found that the work +could not be deferred until the next day, and promised +to do it at once.</p> + +<p>Being sure that his instructions would be faithfully +followed, the chief of police ordered the manager +of the morgue to transport the body into the +autopsy-room, and to keep it at the disposal of the +sculptor; then he returned to the central office to +arrange with the sheriff and coroner about the rewards +for those who had given important information +in the cause of justice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly, as a chief of police and a lawyer, did +not hesitate to make known to the public, by posters +and through the press, that a reward of one +hundred dollars would be given to any one who +would furnish exact information in regard to the +particulars of the crime, and that whoever would +arrest or deliver up the assassin would receive one +thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>The intelligent officer was ready to double or +triple the sum if, after waiting a while, he obtained +no result. Having done this, and feeling convinced +that, like Titus, he had employed his day well, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>honorable chief of the metropolitan police seated +himself at his dinner-table in a cheerful mood, and +afterwards went to his club.</p> + +<p>At the same hour, Albert Moor and his guide +reached the morgue, provided with all the apparatus +necessary for their work. The manager of the +establishment escorted them to the autopsy-room, +where, after one of the workmen had lighted the +gas, for it had become dark, he left them alone.</p> + +<p>According to orders, the drowned woman had +been removed from her stone bed to one of the large +metal tables used for authorized medical operations. +Her face and features were in a good state of preservation, +but, from her chest down, there was a +horrible gash, for the surgeon who had examined +the body to discover the causes of death, had but +partially drawn the flesh together, and here and +there were dark streaks upon it.</p> + +<p>The flesh on the upper portion of the form was +still firm; the shoulders were like marble, and the +abundant hair so completely hid the opening in the +skull that the luxuriant beauty, being thus preserved, +strikingly recalled Miss Ada as she was in +life. The limbs still retained their perfect shape.</p> + +<p>After examining his subject for a moment with +the real curiosity of the artist, Albert Moor prepared +for his work. He first slipped a cushion under the +head, that it might be slightly raised, pushed back +the hair and secured it in a piece of cloth, then +washed the face and neck as carefully as this operation +is performed by the people of the extreme East. +Having done this, by the aid of a large brush he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>moistened those parts of the body with an oily +liquid, intended to prevent the adhesion of the plaster, +and from the top of the head to the chin, and in various +other directions, extended cords, which enabled +him to divide the cast, before it had stiffened, +into as many parts as he thought necessary, for the +perfect execution of his work.</p> + +<p>While he was making these preparations his +assistant was tempering, in a large wooden bowl, +a plaster fine as starch.</p> + +<p>The sculptor first covered the face and all the +parts of which he wished to take a cast, then he +thickened the layer with successive layers, under +which the outlines of the form slowly disappeared.</p> + +<p>He had reached this point in his work when he +heard some one softly open the door. Thinking +it was the director of the morgue, whom curiosity +had drawn thither, and being absorbed in his work, +he did not turn round; but he could not check a +movement of surprise when he saw at the head of +the dead woman a face unknown to him.</p> + +<p>How did this stranger introduce himself into this +gloomy place, to which admission was forbidden?</p> + +<p>He immediately had the key to this riddle, for +the newcomer, bowing, gave his name.</p> + +<p>It was William Dow.</p> + +<p>Now, although the sculptor did not know the +celebrated detective by sight, he knew him perfectly +by name, for in a previous criminal affair, for several +months no one was so much talked of as this +retired doctor.</p> + +<p>Thanks to him, the police of New York had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>finally put their hands on a band of counterfeiters +who, for more than two years, had boldly drawn +from the coffers of the government.</p> + +<p>Although he did not understand the motive of +this nightly visit, the operator returned William +Dow’s greeting with an expression in his face which +told how flattered he was to find himself with a +man for whom he professed real admiration. Both, +in their way, were artists.</p> + +<p>“You know, sir,” said the detective, “how curious +I am about all that in any way concerns the +discovery of a crime; you therefore will not be +astonished at my presuming to come here. You +are doing a great service to the cause of justice, +and I wish to see for myself how you perform this +delicate operation.”</p> + +<p>The sculptor willingly explained to his visitor +what he had already done, and after assuring himself +that the plastic was in the necessary state of +cohesion, he took the end of the cord extending +the length of the face, and, raising it skilfully, cut +the mask in two. He did the same with the other +cords arranged in various directions, saying:</p> + +<p>“Now, I must wait until the plaster takes the +form sufficiently, then I remove each of these parts +which, united, will give me a cast into which it +only remains for me to pour the material of which +I am to make the bust. If I wish to have anything +more finished, absolutely perfect, I go over the +bust again with the chisel to correct imperfections, +and use it for a second cast, from which is obtained +a work of art which needs only finishing touches.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p> + +<p>“That is very ingenious, sir,” said William Dow, +“but when I examine this body, I truly regret that +you have taken a cast only of the upper part. Do +you not think that it is one of the most beautiful +models for sculpture that could be found?”</p> + +<p>“It is, indeed, admirable in its shape and proportions.”</p> + +<p>“Why, then, did you not take an entire cast?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Kelly asked me only for the head. To do +more would be considerable labor, and very difficult +besides, for Doctor O’Neel, who made the +autopsy of the unfortunate woman, left the body +open. After filling in the vacuum caused by the +removing of the viscera, and which occasions the +alteration in the flesh, it would be necessary to draw +together the separated parts in order to have a +model without solutions of continuity. Don’t you +see?” Saying which, Albert Moor removed the +cloth from the body that William Dow might judge +of the state of things for himself.</p> + +<p>“It is true,” answered the detective, examining +with the coolness of a practitioner the open body; +“but it does not seem to me impossible to remedy +this obstacle. I have some surgical knowledge, +and I think I could myself put this body in a suitable +condition. Give me five minutes to go to the +doctor on duty at Bellevue Hospital to obtain the +necessary instruments, and, if you then think the +thing possible, I shall beg you to do it, and charge +your own price for the entire cast of this woman. +I think, in the interest of art, it would be a useful +work.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span></p> + +<p>“I think so, too, sir,” said the sculptor, delighted +to have an opportunity to earn a large sum. “My +plaster is sufficiently dry; during your absence I +shall take it off. We can then do the whole body.”</p> + +<p>William Dow left. He was, no doubt, well +known in the establishment, for in a few moments +he returned to the autopsy-room in company with +a hospital nurse, who brought all the articles +needed for the peculiar operation about to be performed.</p> + +<p>Albert Moor had disengaged the head from its +covering, and the face now appeared of a yellow +ivory hue. The moulding had succeeded perfectly.</p> + +<p>The detective began his work at once. After +filling in the cavities of the stomach and bowels +with oakum saturated with an aromatic solution +and corrosive sublimate, in order to retard decomposition, +he drew the sides of the opening together, +and united them so skilfully that the body soon +took its natural form. He did the same with the +other solutions of continuity which Doctor O’Neel +had made in the throat and the top of the cranium, +to find proofs that the poor woman had not been +asphyxiated by submersion, and that she had not +succumbed to an attack of apoplexy. Then he +arranged the rich mass of hair with such art that +the head did not show the least sign of the autopsy.</p> + +<p>It was really a moving, peculiar spectacle of +which this silent little room was the scene in the +still hours of the night.</p> + +<p>“Is that all right?” asked William Dow, when +he had finished his horrible task.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p> + +<p>“Perfectly, sir,” answered Albert Moor, and then +setting to work himself, the sculptor prepared the +body as he had done the head.</p> + +<p>The detective watched him attentively. In less +than an hour, all was done. The corpse was lost +to sight beneath a thick coating of plaster, which +after removing cords was divided into twenty fragments. +It looked like a block of snow.</p> + +<p>“In the morning,” said the artist, “I will take +off my mould; we can then decide on what is to +be done with it, as you think best.”</p> + +<p>“We will come to an understanding about that. +Meanwhile I must thank and compliment you on +the skill with which you have performed this difficult +work.”</p> + +<p>While they were exchanging these words they had +made their preparations for departure; but Albert +Moor did not wish to leave until he had told the +watchman at the morgue not to touch or let anyone +touch the cast before his return.</p> + +<p>As for William Dow, before leaving the autopsy-room, +his intelligent eyes gazed long and thoughtfully +at the inert mass, and he murmured:</p> + +<p>“Who knows if this will not be more than a work +of art, and if this woman of stone will not accuse +herself some day.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX"> + CHAPTER IX. + <br><span class="small"> + WHAT THE HONORABLE CORONER DAVIS THOUGHT, + AND WHAT ROBERTSON, JR., WAS CONVINCED OF. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Mr. Davis, the coroner charged with this mysterious +affair, was an intelligent, laborious man; but, +like all his colleagues in the American magistracy, +he had so often encountered the difficulties with +which judicial inquests are armed in the Northern +States, that he hardly hoped to obtain a prompt +result.</p> + +<p>A fortnight later the inquest had made great progress, +owing to the reward of one hundred dollars +promised to each person who should furnish useful +information in the cause of justice.</p> + +<p>Toby naturally presented himself to declare that +the barrel of tar fastened to the leg of the drowned +woman was the one stolen from him on the night of +the ball, at two or three o’clock in the morning. He +was certain of it, for it was at that very moment +that he left his post as watch on Wharf 43 to go and +warm himself in Anchor tavern. This inn was on +the wharf, seven or eight hundred yards above +Shakespeare’s tavern, going up toward Yorkville.</p> + +<p>After Toby came Thompson, the keeper of the +livery stable, and his driver, Tom Katters; but the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>latter could only tell the magistrate of his traveling +in company with three Indians and a woman as far +as the first houses in Yorkville.</p> + +<p>Beyond this stopping-place the legal officers lost +all traces of the unhappy Miss Ada and her kidnappers.</p> + +<p>Captain Young and his skilful agents searched +in vain all the taverns, lodging-houses, dens, and +suspicious places from the borders of the river to +Yorkville, and discovered nothing which could throw +light upon the matter.</p> + +<p>This campaign served only to accomplish the +arrest of a hundred offenders against the law—people +important to capture, but absolutely innocent of +the crime which excited public opinion in the highest +degree.</p> + +<p>Mary, on being questioned several times, invariably +told the same story of the kidnapping, which +she had witnessed, as had all Miss Ada’s guests. +The servants affirmed—and there was no reason to +suppose that she lied—that she, like every one else, +had taken the scene for a carnival joke.</p> + +<p>Mary took care not to speak Colonel Forster’s +name, whom she evidently suspected as she had +told Mr. Saunders, for she feared to compromise +herself, and be accused of being an accomplice. +Besides it might be that her silence was caused by +her thinking it impossible that the brilliant officer +could have had any part in the crime of which her +mistress had been a victim, admitting that the +drowned woman really was, whatever she had said, +the unhappy Miss Ada. Moreover, when the coroner +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>had proposed to her to return to the morgue to +again examine the body, the young girl began to +tremble and weep, and said that probably she was +mistaken, but that not for any amount of money +could she have the courage to confront such a spectacle +a second time.</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis, therefore, had to resign himself to go +no farther with the maid; but, without her suspecting +it, he placed her under a constant surveillance.</p> + +<p>However, the examination of this girl had not +been useless, for to her Mr. Davis owed the enumeration +and detailed description of the jewels +which Miss Ada had on the day when she was +carried off.</p> + +<p>Mary, in giving this information of utmost importance, +showed so good a memory and so much intelligence, +that the coroner could have each of these +jewels estimated, drawn, and photographed—they +easily found those who had sold them—so that the +principal jewelers in America and Europe could be +notified.</p> + +<p>The assassin, it is true, could change the setting +of the necklaces, bracelets, and rings; but the coroner +counted much on the ear-rings of the victim, for +the discovery of the murderer. He knew that these +diamonds were solitaires, valued at ten thousand +dollars. Now, it is difficult to get rid of stones of +this cut without awaking suspicion, even in America.</p> + +<p>What baffled the honorable magistrate was that +Miss Ada had been taken beyond the wharf from +which the barrel of tar had been stolen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p> + +<p>Now, as the report of Doctor O’Neel demonstrated +that the victim had ceased to live before being +thrown into the water, he concluded that the murderer +had retraced his steps with the corpse, and, +that, not being provided with a rock to sink the +body he took the first object he could lay hands on.</p> + +<p>This first deduction naturally led the coroner to +a second—that the assassin had been able to descend +only by water from the place where Tom Katters +had parted from him—Miss Ada being still living, +since the coachman had heard the man who +brought her talking to her—to Wharf 43, from +which the barrel had been taken.</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis thus succeeded in establishing this first +point: On leaving the carriage, the unknown had +embarked with the young woman, had choked, +poisoned, or asphyxiated her by means of a poison +or narcotic impossible to state what, and had afterward +thrown her into the river.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant of the Liberia had come to make +the intelligent magistrate the declaration which he +had previously made to the Robertson agency, that +on Tuesday or Wednesday night, the night of the +kidnapping, he came near running down a boat in +which were an Indian and a woman—a boat going +towards Williamsburg—and that this woman had +uttered a cry of fear; but this only made it supposable +that the crime had been committed on the other +side of the river, for all these shores receiving tides, +the body might have been as easily carried out by +the waves as to have descended from the top of the +river with the current.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span></p> + +<p>On the opposite shore, at Greenpoint, Williamsburg, +and Brooklyn, the search had not produced +any better results than at Yorkville.</p> + +<p>None of the men of the Firefly, not even those of +the boat we saw skirting Staten Island, came to the +aid of the police. In the first place, the crew of the +yacht were absolutely ignorant of the aim of the excursion +which we have described, and, moreover, +although the sailors of the boat knew that they had +run into a yawl, they knew no more.</p> + +<p>In their natural haste to save themselves they +were no more anxious about those who had made +them run so great a danger than about the stout +man, who, no doubt, as an apology for the cold +bath he had made them take, had given them each +one hundred dollars.</p> + +<p>As for Saunders, it was impossible to obtain anything, +whatever, from him. Two or three times +Mr. Davis had gone to his house, and had questioned +him as shrewdly as possible; but the unhappy +man, at the mere name of Miss Ada, rolled +his haggard eyes wildly, muttered incoherently, accused +himself of her death, asked her forgiveness, +burst into sobs, then offered ten thousand dollars to +anyone who would discover her murderer.</p> + +<p>He talked at random, with such good results, that +the coroner, agreeing with Mr. Kelly and Mr. Mortimer, +gave up tormenting him, and this in spite of +Captain Young, who swore at them, and remembering +the recognition he had witnessed at the morgue, +bet one thousand dollars against two hundred dollars +that the wealthy merchant was the murderer.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> + +<p>There was only one call which Mr. Saunders received +without terror—that of William Dow. He +remembered that the latter had offered him his arm +to lead him from Bellevue Hospital, and in his presence +he wandered a little less.</p> + +<p>So the gentlemanly detective went to see him +from time to time, under the pretext of inquiring +about his health.</p> + +<p>Mr. Robertson, Jr., who followed the progress of +this search with interest, as will be understood, reasoned +quite differently from Mr. Davis, and it must +be acknowledged that his deductions, considering +the facts within his personal knowledge, were no +less honorable than those of the magistrate.</p> + +<p>According to the intelligent agent, Miss Ada was +accidentally drowned on the shore of Staten Island. +Her body, borne off by the current, did not come to +the surface until out to sea, where some fisherman +may have drawn it up in his nets, and, tempted by +the precious jewels that the young woman wore, the +man had completely robbed her, then thrown her +into the water, after fastening to her leg a tar barrel, +whose presence in his fishing-boat was very +natural. This tar barrel might be that which had +been stolen from Toby, or the fisherman might have +stolen it himself a few days before, or some one +might have sold it to him; but it might also simply +be a barrel bearing the same mark as those stored +on Wharf 43, and not the particular one that had +disappeared from that wharf.</p> + +<p>It will be seen that Davis and Robertson, while +starting from a different point, reached the same +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>result—the certifying the identity of the body of +the drowned.</p> + +<p>The coroner also had taken every measure to +learn the past of Ada Ricard, and by some brief information +collected in New York, and made more +complete by former servants of the young woman +and by the friends of her first lover, Thomas +Cornhill, he had been able to go as far back as her +marriage with James Gobson, which took place at +Buffalo, but, as we know, only to be broken at the +end of a year by the divorce courts.</p> + +<p>The documents relative to this case described the +brutality of Gobson toward his wife; and, when he +learned that this man—who had disappeared for +more than six months—had been seen at Jefferson, +forty-eight hours distant from New York, a few +days before the crime, Mr. Davis no longer doubted +that he was the guilty man.</p> + +<p>It was equally the opinion of William Dow, contrary +to all the reasonings of the terrible Captain +Young.</p> + +<p>Now it only remained to arrest James Gobson; +but this was not easy, for it was very evident that +the murderer, having committed the crime and +taken possession of the jewels, had made all despatch +to put all possible distance between him and +the law.</p> + +<p>Now, unfortunately, they had only one of those +imperfect clews which serve no end, and no photograph, +whatever.</p> + +<p>William Dow, who had gone to Buffalo, had +brought back nothing interesting in regard to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>antecedents of the unfortunate Ada, as no one had +been able to give any information.</p> + +<p>Gobson, who, when he lived at Buffalo, was often +absent on business, had one day returned from the +West with her whom he had made his wife, and as +this union with a girl whose past and family he did +not know, had separated the merchant from his +relatives as well as the majority of his friends, it became +almost impossible to find out about Miss Ada +before the time of her marriage.</p> + +<p>Was the name of Ricard, which she had taken or +resumed on arriving in New York, her own? Mr. +Davis would not have ventured to affirm it, and Mr. +Dow doubted it.</p> + +<p>Matters, as we see, were progressing slowly, and +the mystery seemed to become more impenetrable +every day.</p> + +<p>Albert Moor was the only one who had brought his +work to a successful end. In a fortnight after his +night at the morgue with William Dow he had delivered +to Mr. Kelly a head in wax, which in the +opinion of all who had known Ada Ricard was her +striking image.</p> + +<p>This head had been placed, according to regulations, +in a glass case outside the exhibition-room, in +the large public hall, and every day attracted considerable +of a crowd.</p> + +<p>It was to remain there until the matter was settled, +in some way or another, to be afterwards placed in +the museum of curiosities at Bellevue Hospital, where +they keep the heads of murderers and those of their +victims.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X"> + CHAPTER X. + +<br><span class="small">A MOHICK TELLS OF A VISIT BIG KELLY RECEIVES +WHICH HE LITTLE EXPECTED, AND HOW WILLIAM +DOW TRANSFORMS A VISITOR INTO A PRISONER. + </span></h2> +</div> + + + +<p>A month had already passed without the inquest +having advanced a step, and the irascible Kelly, +much disturbed by public opinion which was against +his course, was tempted to doubt even the skill of +William Dow, when, one morning as he was talking +with the latter, an office boy brought a card on +which was a name which gave him a start.</p> + +<p>The name was James Gobson, from Buffalo.</p> + +<p>“We have been mistaken,” he cried, passing the +card to the detective.</p> + +<p>The latter read it, and immediately answered +with his shrewd smile:</p> + +<p>“Oh! that proves nothing; or, at least not much +of anything.”</p> + +<p>“Let him come in,” said the officer, and in a few +seconds the visitor was admitted.</p> + +<p>He was a tall man, about forty years old, tolerably +good looking, wearing his beard in the American +style, without a mustache, and seeming by no +means embarrassed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span></p> + +<p>“Is this card yours?” asked Mr. Kelly, brusquely; +for he did not possess those qualities necessary +to his situation—coolness and self-control.</p> + +<p>“It is mine,” answered the stranger with much +assurance. “I read three days ago at St. Louis, +where I happened to be on business, that a woman +named Ada Ricard had been found drowned. Now +the woman from whom I have been divorced bore +that name, and I at once took the train to come on +here, and here I am, ready to give you my aid, if I +can be useful to you in discovering the assassin.”</p> + +<p>“What makes you suppose the woman was +assassinated?”</p> + +<p>“All the accounts in the newspapers so stated. +They relate that when she was taken from the river +she was completely nude, and that a barrel of tar +was fastened to one leg. Her death, therefore, +cannot be a suicide.”</p> + +<p>“Have you been to see her head at the morgue?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I thought that my first duty was to +come to you.”</p> + +<p>“But you, at least, have a photograph of the +dead. They are circulated everywhere.”</p> + +<p>“I heard of this event on the very morning of +my arrival at St. Louis, and none of these likenesses +came under my eye.”</p> + +<p>“Where had you come from?”</p> + +<p>“From a long trip to the Rocky Mountains, +where I had gone to visit the mines.”</p> + +<p>“I think, then, that the first thing to be done is +for you to go to the morgue.”</p> + +<p>“I will go there immediately.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p> + +<p>“With me, if you will?”</p> + +<p>“I have told you, sir, that I am at your orders.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly had rung the bell and said a few words +in a low voice to the secretary, who had quickly +come at the call.</p> + +<p>Almost immediately two agents presented themselves +in the office of their chief.</p> + +<p>James Gobson did not betray any astonishment +at the arrival of this reinforcement. His coolness +was that of a man perfectly sure of himself.</p> + +<p>“Let us start, sir,” said the chief of police, rising +and slipping in his pocket the revolver, which was +always within reach on his desk.</p> + +<p>William Dow, who had not taken his eyes off of +the former husband of Ada Ricard, also arose.</p> + +<p>“All ready, sir,” answered the stranger, putting +on his hat.</p> + +<p>All three went down stairs, followed by the +agents, and found in the yard of the central office +two carriages harnessed, and the drivers on the +boxes.</p> + +<p>Kelly, William Dow and James Gobson entered +one, and the policemen the other.</p> + +<p>The chief of police advised the latter not to lose +sight of Gobson for a single instant, and he sent +one of his secretaries to Mr. Davis to beg him to +immediately repair to the morgue.</p> + +<p>In less than a quarter of an hour the party +alighted at Bellevue Hospital.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly pointing out the way to his companions +proceeded to the clerk’s office without passing the +public gallery, where curious lookers-on were numerous, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>and he ordered the officer to dismiss the +crowd and close the doors. A few moments later, +there was no one left in the place where the head +of the drowned was exhibited.</p> + +<p>“Come,” said the officer to Mr. Gobson, when +the clerk informed him that the gallery was empty.</p> + +<p>Without the least hesitation James Gobson kept +pace with his escort, and, followed by William Dow +and the two agents, arrived at the glass window.</p> + +<p>At the sight of this wax face of the most admirable +execution and truly life-like beauty, the American +wore an expression which William Dow, who +was watching him attentively, was not ready to +interpret, and then Mr. Gobson turned at once to +Mr. Kelly and said with the greatest calmness:</p> + +<p>“It is really extraordinary, sir; I did not think +such a resemblance was possible.”</p> + +<p>“Then, you recognize Miss Ada?” asked the +chief of police, indignant, in spite of his scepticism, +at seeing the almost smiling face this man wore +in presence of this cast of the head of her who had +been his wife.</p> + +<p>“No, not at all, not at all,” answered James Gobson, +quickly; “you hardly understand me. Here +are the features, and even the expression of her +who bore my name; but the unhappy woman of +whom this cast has been made was not Miss Ada.”</p> + +<p>The tone in which he said this would have made +one think that he really regretted that it was not +Mrs. Gobson.</p> + +<p>“What! not Miss Ada? Take a good look,” resumed +Mr. Kelly. “Through her parted lips you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>can see that a tooth is missing, and that there is a +cut on the left ear. Now, the two servants who +were successively employed by your wife—”</p> + +<p>“Pardon, my former wife.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, your former wife; the two servants +who were successively employed by her, perfectly +recalled these two details so decisive in the certifying +of the identity.”</p> + +<p>“Did they both recognize Miss Ada?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly they did.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly did not state the exact truth, since +Mary, it will be remembered, had at first denied that +her mistress was the drowned woman, and that she +afterwards, hesitatingly, admitted her identity that +she might not be forced to re-visit the morgue. But +the magistrate thought a little fib like that of no +consequence.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said James Gobson, at the “certainly” +of the impetuous officer, “I do not recognize her.”</p> + +<p>Annoyed, and hardly knowing what to do, the +chief of police looked at William Dow. Ada +Ricard’s former husband caught the questioning +look, and immediately resumed:</p> + +<p>“Please understand, sir, that it is for my interest +to hold your opinion.”</p> + +<p>“How so?” said Kelly, surprised anew.</p> + +<p>“Simply because between this former wife of +mine and myself there was an insurance contract +which the divorce court could not break, and this +contract was made in favor of the survivor. If you +absolutely insist that this unhappy victim whose +head I see here was Mrs. Gobson I should be very +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>foolish to deny it any longer, for with the certificate +of death which you have made out, and of which +you will not refuse me a copy, I shall have only to +present myself at the Gresham Company to immediately +receive twenty thousand dollars.”</p> + +<p>While the widower, no matter how he felt, was +thus expressing himself with the most perfect coolness +and with a smile on his lips, Mr. Davis had entered +the gallery and had joined the spectators of +this strange scene.</p> + +<p>“I think,” said William Dow, speaking to both +the chief of police and the coroner, “that the most +simple thing to be done is to draw up an official report +of the declaration which you have just heard, +and deliver to him the certificate which he asks +for. The death certificate must be at the morgue.”</p> + +<p>The detective, as he made this proposition, gave +Mr. Kelly and Davis a look which they understood, +for they immediately followed him into the directors’ +office, but having first signed to the two policemen +to look after James Gobson.</p> + +<p>The latter, at the firm, grave voice of this man, +whom he had not observed until then, could not +conceal a slight shudder.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if he had a presentiment of an adversary, +for he turned quickly toward the man who +had made a proposition so in conformance with his +expressed wish, but he had already disappeared. +However, after the departure of the magistrates and +their companion, he began to walk up and down, +with the evident intention of warming himself, the +place was so damp and chilly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span></p> + +<p>Outside was heard the crowd, which, having become +quite large, was breaking into noisy complaint +at having so long been deprived of the spectacle to +which it had a right, and people were entertaining +all kinds of suppositions as to the cause of locking +the doors of the morgue.</p> + +<p>After crossing the clerk’s office, William Dow led +Mr. Kelly and Davis into the directors’ private office, +who were absent at that moment. When there +alone with them, he said:</p> + +<p>“This man is Miss Ada’s murderer, I am convinced.”</p> + +<p>“It is quite possible,” answered Kelly. “I have +a bad opinion of him. What do you think, my +dear Mr. Davis?”</p> + +<p>“You know,” said the coroner, “that I have +always thought Miss Ada’s husband guilty. But +the voluntary appearance of the man, and what I +have just heard trouble my conscience somewhat. +I do not dare to give an opinion.”</p> + +<p>“Follow me a moment in what I have to say,” +resumed the detective, “and without entering upon +any hypothesis, let us reason only on what we have +seen and heard.”</p> + +<p>The worthy Kelly, who liked nothing as much +as to listen to his friend Dow, and who, besides, +asked nothing better than to be rid of the whole +affair, sank back in an arm-chair and crossed his +arms; and the coroner signified that he was ready +to listen.</p> + +<p>“Here is a person,” resumed the retired doctor, +“who pretends that he did not hear of the violent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>death of this woman whose husband he was, until +he reached St. Louis three days ago, and in that city +where her photographs are on exhibition everywhere, +he did not seek to assure himself, by examining +one of them, that it really was his wife. +Then, this man who through the same papers in +which he read the event certainly was aware of the +suspicions of which he was the object, and the reward +promised for his arrest, this man arrives here, +affects to know nothing of the fact, which, however, +so directly affects him, and instead of hastening to +the morgue where he knows that the head is exhibited, +he does not concern himself an instant about +the identity of the victim, but goes straight to the +police. Does not this conduct betray in the most +evident manner a system adopted in advance, and +matured after deep reflection, a system one basis of +which is the non-recognition of the drowned woman, +which has just been observed?”</p> + +<p>“Eh! eh!” murmured Mr. Kelly, with a smile, +“that is very well reasoned.”</p> + +<p>“Gobson, in your presence, is calm, and a perfect +master of himself,” continued William Dow, “and +when you ask him how it happens that he has +known this event for so short a time he answers +you that he comes from the Rocky Mountains, +where he has been several months. Now, Mr. +Davis knows that a few days before the crime, +hardly six weeks ago, James Gobson was met at +Jefferson, in Missouri; why then does he tell this +lie?”</p> + +<p>“It is true,” said the coroner, in his turn; “there +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>is a contradiction about it which is indeed of a +nature to arouse suspicion.”</p> + +<p>“That is not all. When, just now, after he said +that he did not recognize Miss Ada, you insisted on +this point, that she was recognized by the two +maids, Gobson committed the imprudence of addressing +you this question: ‘Both of them, do you +say, both of them recognized Miss Ada.’ Why +should he have this doubt in regard to both recognitions? +One of them, then, astonished him, which +one? Mary’s, of course, who, in fact, refused to +recognize her former mistress, whose features were, +however, fresh in her memory. Does not this coincidence +strike you? Do you not see in it the beginning +of a proof of an understanding between +these two persons?”</p> + +<p>“That is indisputable,” said Kelly, radiant.</p> + +<p>“That is very possible,” confessed Mr. Davis, +more prudently.</p> + +<p>“Gobson tells you, it is true, that it would be +for his interest to recognize Miss Ada, since her +death would give him twenty thousand dollars, but +he has this moment a much greater anxiety than +gaining that sum—that of escaping accusation, and +this kind of disinterestedness is one of the weapons +he proposes to use. In the first place the theft of +the jewels of his victim is a compensation for abandoning +the twenty thousand dollars; moreover, he +hopes, no doubt, that this money will not be lost +to him, for, in the matter of a contract of life insurance, +the forfeiture having a long term, he reserves +for himself certainly the chance to maintain +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>his rights, when, either through prescription, the +uselessness of the inquest, or by acquittal, for he +has foreseen all, he will be safe from pursuit as a +criminal, therefore to recognize his wife was more +dangerous from every point of view than not to +recognize her.”</p> + +<p>“Very just, very just,” observed the chief of +police; “but why has that fool come to give himself +up?”</p> + +<p>“My dear Mr. Kelly,” answered Dow, “because +he is a bold and skilful man. What is passing +between us is a reason for it. Even yesterday Mr. +Davis and you did not suspect his culpability, +while now, just because he has come to you, you +hesitate to believe it. Did he not fear being arrested +some day? In order to boldly dispose of the +stolen jewels at a later period, in order to get the +premium on his insurance policy, should he not +first be free from the hands of the law. He plays +a shrewd game who comes forward to meet danger. +I do not know whether we shall succeed in convicting +him, but my reason and conscience tell me +that he is the assassin, or at least the accomplice +of assassins.”</p> + +<p>“Apropos of accomplices,” interrupted Mr. Kelly, +“how happens it that, in spite of the reward +offered, a reward that I have raised to two thousand +dollars, the two men who aided in carrying off +Miss Ada have not presented themselves? Knowing, +thanks to the declaration of the driver, that +they left the carriage before it reached its destination +and, consequently, that they are not accomplices +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>of the assassination, I have re-advertised +through the papers that they had no pursuit to +fear.”</p> + +<p>“The silence of these two men,” answered the +detective, “may be caused by two very different +motives. In the first place it would not be impossible +that these aids were accomplices in the +crime in the complete acceptation of the word; that +is, that they met Miss Ada and her kidnapper after +the departure of the carriage, to receive their share +of the jewels. It will be readily understood that +they cared little for your reward. Then, it may +also be, and this idea was suggested to me by certain +information which I promise myself to control +and to complete, that these two aids, as you very +justly call them, might have been unconscious aids +only, brought from afar by James Gobson to help +him in his enterprise, without knowing his real +purpose, then sent away by him to places where +it is certain that neither our papers nor even the +rumors of our cities will reach.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“That, if these Indians, so true in their costumes, +singing and dancing, were real Indians from the +prairies, it would not astonish me. Now you must +know that among the Sioux or Comanches the +story of the assassination of Miss Ada is unknown.”</p> + +<p>“By George, my dear Dow, you are admirable!” +cried Kelly in the greatest enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“Then you are going to arrest Gobson?”</p> + +<p>“I think I shall, if Mr. Davis is of the same +opinion.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p> + +<p>“It is exactly my opinion,” answered the coroner, +who having a shrewder mind than that of the chief +of police, was no less astonished at the deductions +of the detective. “Now I am convinced, and as I +have here in my pocket-book the warrant which I +have issued against James Gobson, his arrest is the +simplest thing in the world. Come, I will take +charge of it.”</p> + +<p>“Here, my dear William, is a haul for your net +for which my worthy Young will never forgive +you,” observed Kelly, laughing and opening the +door of the clerk’s office. “Hark! there he is.”</p> + +<p>The great Young was, indeed, in the next room. +Being warned by one of his agents that the crowd +was becoming more numerous and noisier than +usual around the morgue, the captain of detectives +hurried to the spot, and, seeing the doors of the +dismal building closed, he went to the clerk’s room +to inquire the cause of this riotous crowd.</p> + +<p>“Then, let us leave him the pleasure and honor +of arresting Gobson,” proposed Dow.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said the coroner, who, perhaps, had +no intense longing to accomplish this mission himself, +and he rapidly acquainted Young with what +had happened and what had been decided upon. +Then he gave him the warrant.</p> + +<p>The captain, although he still adhered to his belief +in the culpability of Saunders, did not make +any remark; he turned upon his heels and went to +the door which led from the clerk’s office to the public +gallery.</p> + +<p>“One word, my good Young,” said William Dow, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>signing him to stop. “Take your precautions; he +is a solid customer, and I should not wonder if he +were armed.”</p> + +<p>This was all that was needed to excite the daring +of the terrible detective. He answered with a proud +smile, and pushed open the door.</p> + +<p>James Gobson, leaning against the heavy railing +which protects the glass window, behind which the +bodies are exposed, from the rudeness of the crowd, +was quietly reading the New York Herald, but he +read it with only one eye, for, at the sound of men +leaving the clerk’s office, he drew himself up, let his +paper fall, and took a few steps backward.</p> + +<p>His face was so perfectly calm that one could not +have said that he was putting himself on the defensive.</p> + +<p>But when he saw this powerful man, whom he +did not know, coming toward him, he reached the +end of the gallery with one bound, and hearing +Young call out to him in his stentorian voice: “It +is useless to resist, sir, I have orders to arrest you,” +he drew a revolver from his pocket, aimed it at the +captain, and answered him in a tone which left no +doubt as to his intention:</p> + +<p>“Why arrest me? If you come near me I shall +kill you. A citizen of this free country cannot be +arrested like this.”</p> + +<p>“That is what I feared,” murmured the stout +Kelly, who, although very brave, did not care to +risk his life in such an adventure; so, thinking it +wise to parley with him, he took Young by the arm +and said in answer to Gobson:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span></p> + +<p>“As an American, your remark does not lack +justice; but as the former husband of Ada Ricard +it is not common sense, for you are suspected of +being her murderer, and there is a writ against you +which must be executed.”</p> + +<p>“I, the assassin—it is false!” cried James Gobson, +and his arm still preserved its horizontal position.</p> + +<p>At the same moment a great shouting was heard +outside. The crowd had divined what had passed; +they wished the murderer to be delivered up to +them, and threatened, in spite of the policemen, to +invade the morgue.</p> + +<p>“You understand,” resumed the chief of police, +“if you do not give yourself up with a good grace I +shall order the doors to be opened.”</p> + +<p>Miss Ada’s former husband turned somewhat pale, +for he knew how the people in America set to work +to administer justice; however, he replied in a voice +none the less steady:</p> + +<p>“I am innocent. Anything rather than deliver +myself up like a coward.”</p> + +<p>But he had hardly uttered these words when a +pistol shot was heard, he gave a cry and his shattered +revolver fell from his hand.</p> + +<p>All this was due to William Dow, who had entered +the exhibition-room, and had slipped behind +the curtain until he was opposite James Gobson, +and a ball skilfully sent had disarmed without +wounding him.</p> + +<p>Understanding that all resistance had become useless, +Gobson immediately surrendered to Captain +Young, who sprang forward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly ordered the prisoner to be taken to the +hospital through the clerk’s room and the inner +courts, for it did not seem to him prudent to face +the crowd, whose excitement the pistol shot had increased. +Then he rushed out of doors that he might +himself announce the arrest of Miss Ada Ricard’s +murderer.</p> + +<p>At this news, a thousand enthusiastic hurrahs +arose, and the chief of police felt the gentle satisfaction +of having his ears shattered by the shouts of +“Three cheers for Kelly! Kelly forever!” shouts +that not only flattered his pride, but assured his re-election.</p> + +<p>A few moments later, William Dow joined him, +and Kelly affectionately pressed his hand, for it +really was to his intelligence and skill that he owed +this new victory.</p> + +<p>As for Captain Young, although but half convinced +of the guilt of his prisoner, he conveyed him +in a carriage—a quarter of an hour later—to the +Tombs, with much advice to the director.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI"> + CHAPTER XI. + <br><span class="small"> + A CRIMINAL COURT IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>That same day the arrest of James Gobson was +known all over the city, and in the evening the +principal papers were full of the most absurd and +sensational details of the scene at the morgue.</p> + +<p>The pistol-shot fired by William Dow was represented +by some of these papers as a veritable volley +of musketry. Some said that Miss Ada’s assassin +did not give himself up until he had fought and +overpowered half a dozen policemen; others, that it +was necessary to fire at and disable him in order to +capture him.</p> + +<p>Not until the next day were the facts exactly +known, owing to the eagerness with which the police +of America inform the public, to give it every +means of control, not only by communicating official +reports, but by authorizing journalists to visit +the prisoners.</p> + +<p>James Gobson found his cell besieged by a troop +of reporters, but the story he told the first could +have served for all the others, for it did not vary a +syllable.</p> + +<p>He had fully recovered his coolness; he ate, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>drank, and smoked like a man whose conscience is +perfectly quiet. When he read anything severe +about himself in the papers, he merely shrugged his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>When he was confronted with the witnesses, skilfully +brought together by Mr. Mortimer and Davis, +Thomson, the livery stable-keeper, and Tom Katters, +his driver, who had recognized him by his features +and voice, then with ten of Miss Ada Ricard’s +guests, who declared that his form and bearing +were those of the Indian in whose arms the unfortunate +woman had been carried off, he answered +them firmly, but without anger, that they were mistaken.</p> + +<p>As for Mary, she could say nothing since she had +seen the kidnapper only at a distance, beyond the +throng of dancers.</p> + +<p>But James Gobson had convinced none of his innocence, +Mr. Davis less than anyone, for he refused +to give him any liberty whatever, and notwithstanding +the efforts of the lawyer Macready, who +called to his aid all the ruses which the arsenal of +the American law provides, the examination was so +quickly ended that a month after his arrest the prisoner +was informed that he was soon to appear before +the Criminal Court.</p> + +<p>The grand jury referred the indictment to the +common jury.</p> + +<p>“Do you plead guilty, or not guilty?” asked his +defender on bringing him this news.</p> + +<p>“Not guilty, Mr. Macready, not guilty,” answered +the prisoner, warmly. “Do you doubt +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>my innocence after all the proof I have given +you?”</p> + +<p>“Heaven forbid. I am certain of it, and I promise +you that the lawyer for the State—the illustrious +O’Brien—will have some ugly hours to pass,” +and leaving his client with this kind promise, Mr. +Macready went to once more look over his documents.</p> + +<p>As for James Gobson, we must confess, that +when he was alone in his cell, he did not so well +conceal the anxiety which he had felt for several +days and which visibly increased as the hour for +his trial approached.</p> + +<p>Public opinion, which has such great weight in +matters of justice in the United States, was not +favorable to him; and he lacked, what to the accused +is a defensive weapon, often all-powerful—he +belonged to no political party or any religious +sect.</p> + +<p>Now, James Gobson had not this advantage on +his side. Politics were quiet, and without very +great difficulty, in spite of the trickery of his defender, +they had drawn the twelve necessary jurors, +a more difficult operation in the United States than +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Mr. Macready, who was an able man, had full +confidence in the result of the trial, and so well convinced +his client of this that on the morning when +he was to appear before the criminal court, he +breakfasted with an excellent appetite. Toward +eleven o’clock, when the guards came to take the +prisoner before the audience, he quietly put on his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>gloves, followed them with firm step, and took his +place before the judges more as a curious spectator +than as an accused man.</p> + +<p>The crowd was large, and occupied, as it was, by +the wax head of Ada Ricard, which had been placed +on a small table, the people turned their looks away +to fasten them on James Gobson, whom, perhaps, +not one present knew by sight. But this movement +of curiosity did not for a moment disturb the accused, +who was sitting near his lawyer and talking +to him in a low voice.</p> + +<p>James Gobson raised his head only when the chief +justice, Mr. Douglas, announced that the court was +open.</p> + +<p>It is useless to say that Mr. Mortimer and the +coroner, Davis, were present, as well as our friends, +William Dow and Young.</p> + +<p>When the usual formalities were gone through +with, Mr. O’Brien, the lawyer for the State, took up +the arguments to review the facts on which the accusation +rested.</p> + +<p>If, among the auditors, there remained any persons +still doubting the guilt of James Gobson, they +were soon convinced of it, for, after having traced +the accused back to the time of his marriage, to review +his conduct toward his wife, his divorce, his +habits, his vows of revenge, and his adventurous +life, Mr. O’Brien showed him a few days before the +crime at Jefferson preparing everything for its execution. +Then he traced him to the livery stable-keeper, +followed him to the ball at Miss Ada’s +house, accompanied him to Yorkville, and then +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span>taking as a basis the ingenious deductions he had +made, he got on board the boat with James Gobson +and his wife, to make those present who were listening +to him, witness the terrible scene that took place +on the river at night. They saw the assassin choke +Miss Ada, rob her of her jewels and clothing, and +leave nothing on her by which she could be recognized +in case she should come to the surface of the +water later, fasten to one of her legs the barrel of +tar stolen from Wharf 43; that the body, kept +down at the bottom of the river, could not float before +decomposition had made it quite unrecognizable, +and finally, to fling into the deep the unhappy +victim of this frightful murder.</p> + +<p>“Having accomplished his crime, then,” said his +accuser, “James Gobson had only one anxiety—to +prepare an alibi to escape all suspicions. He then +set out for the Rocky Mountains, where he remained +not three months, as he pretended, but only one +month; and when he returned and presented himself +at the central police office it was to affirm that +he had heard of the crime only a few hours, and +that the drowned woman was not the one who had +borne his name. Fortunately for justice, two honorable +inhabitants of Jefferson saw James Gobson +in that city only a few days before the crime, and +ten witnesses found in him the features, voice and +stature of the man who hired a carriage, gave +orders to the coachman, Tom Katters, and so audaciously +carried away Miss Ada Ricard from her +guests. As for his accomplices, if they did not +betray him, it was because they received their share +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>of the booty, and because silence alone could save +them.”</p> + +<p>After this plain conclusive presentation of Mr. +O’Brien, the court heard the witnesses. All confirmed +their preceding testimony, all again recognized +the poor woman in the wax head, excepting +Mary, who, without daring to raise her eyes, murmured—</p> + +<p>“I did not recognize my mistress at the morgue; +how do you expect me to recognize her here?”</p> + +<p>Only one witness failed to appear, and that was +the fat Saunders; but, after a medical examination, +the court and Mr. Macready excused him from +appearing. Since we saw him last his condition +had not improved; when Mr. Davis made a last +attempt with him, he threw himself on his knees +crying:</p> + +<p>“It is I who am the cause of her death, but I +did not mean to drown her. Oh! that colonel, I +will kill him.”</p> + +<p>And seeing in these inexplicable exclamations +only the despair of a lover maddened by the loss +of his loved one, the coroner said that Saunders +before long would completely lose his reason.</p> + +<p>As overpowering as the first part of this testimony +might have been to him, James Gobson lost +none of his calmness. He interrupted neither Mr. +O’Brien nor the witnesses; he merely smiled at +times.</p> + +<p>The honorable chief justice, Mr. Douglas, had +not addressed a word to James Gobson, and was +about to let Mr. Macready have his turn, when +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>Mr. Gobson suddenly arose and said in a firm +voice:</p> + +<p>“Your honors, and gentlemen of the jury; my +lawyer, I am sure, is going to prove to you, without +much trouble, how unfounded are the accusations +which you have just heard. I wish only to tell you +this: That all the witnesses who declare that they +recognize me for the person of whom they speak +are misled by a strange resemblance, as well as +those who find in this wax face the features of the +former Mrs. Gobson. I am no more the murderer +of the drowned woman of whom that cast is taken, +than the drowned woman is Ada Ricard.”</p> + +<p>Having uttered these words, without feeling disturbed +at the murmur with which the spectators +had received them, the accused seated himself.</p> + +<p>Mr. Macready then took the stand, and although +his task seemed difficult, one would have thought +from his very first words that there was not the +shadow of a doubt in his mind as to the acquittal +of his client.</p> + +<p>“Whether the victim of this mysterious event,” +were his opening words, “is or is not the woman +called Ada Ricard, having first been Mrs. Gobson, +matters little. Some recognize her, others do not, +and the man whose greatest interest it would be +to find the features of his wife in this wax face sees +only a resemblance which did not for a moment +deceive him. Yes, gentlemen, the greatest interest, +for if Miss Ada Ricard were dead, her former husband, +James Gobson, would receive twenty thousand +dollars from Gresham Insurance Company. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>I know, and James Gobson knows as well as I do, +that the assassination of one by the other of the +contractors annuls the contract; then you would +have to accuse my client of complicity only, for +bold and skilful as you believe him, he would never +have been so simple as to make himself unworthy +of the only benefit he might obtain from the death +of her who had been his wife. The very situation +in which you have placed him makes the crime +impossible; he had no object to commit it only +through vengeance. To give himself that cruel +satisfaction, he would have risked his honor, his +life, and twenty thousand dollars; that is a great +deal. Oh! I know very well that my opponent +would like to make him out not only an assassin +but a thief, who not only killed his wife but even +robbed her of her jewels, and that they were the +reward of his crime, a reward that would compensate, +and how greatly indeed, for the loss of twenty +thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>“Well, where are these jewels? Has he sold +them? To whom? Have you found them at his +house, in his trunks? It is not sufficient to say of +a man that he has stolen; if he has not been +caught in the act, it must be further proven what +he has done with the articles stolen or discover a +trace of them. In this case you make the accusation +of a theft and the main proof nowhere exists. +I affirm, then, that you cannot condemn him as a +murderer, for, apart from the theft, he would have +acted like a fool if he had made himself the murderer +of his wife.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> + +<p>“Let us consider. If he had murdered and +robbed Ada Ricard, what would have been his +object in presenting himself to Mr. Kelly? Consider, +I say, that here is a man who, having a certain +fortune, has committed a crime which brings +him nearly one hundred thousand dollars. He can +escape pursuit, yet he delivers himself up to the +police. Is the idea admissible for a single instant? +No; the truth is this: When, learning the death +of the former Mrs. Gobson, James remembered his +assurance policy; and his sole aim in coming to +New York was to obtain a death certificate to +benefit by the clauses of this policy, and it was +he—even when he could not doubt your suspicions, +ready to break forth into an accusation—it was he +who cried out, sacrificing his own interests: ‘You +are all mistaken, that is not Ada Ricard.’</p> + +<p>“Does not common sense, logic and reason overthrow +your romantic construction? Unless it was +committed by some blood-thirsty brute, is not all +crime a speculation? A monstrous speculation, +but still a speculation. Well, is James Gobson a +brute? No; then what could his speculation have +been?</p> + +<p>“Let us pass now to these facts which the lawyer +for the State links with such skill, or what he +thinks he does. They will not bear examining an +instant; he is no wise man who accepts them. +You wish to make out that James Gobson killed +his wife because he tells you that he was in the +Rocky Mountains at the moment of the crime, and +that two persons saw him a few days before at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>Jefferson. In the first place were not these persons +mistaken? But admitting that they tell the truth, +I do not think you have made a point as regards +the assertion.</p> + +<p>“James Gobson must then be forced, under penalty +of being regarded as a criminal, to recall what +he was doing during that night that Miss Ada was +entertaining her friends? I confess to you, for my +part, that if I had to say what I was doing and +where I was three months ago at that hour, I +should be very much embarrassed; and I defy any +one here to declare on his honor that he can precisely +answer such a question. And then, is it my +mission to prove that my client is innocent? That +is a mistake; it is you, whose mission it is to prove +him guilty. Now you do not do so. You present +a man disguised and masked. You do not tear off +the mask. You give him accomplices and do not +find them again. You say that he has stolen, and +you do not know what has became of the articles +stolen. All that is very serious, and have I not a +right to cry out? A crime has been committed—a +mysterious crime—whose victim even, is not absolutely +recognized; a crime that has deeply stirred +public opinion, which you wish to bring to your +side and calm, and you think it indispensable to +offer a guilty man; whoever it may be, were it +even James Gobson, a perfectly innocent man.”</p> + +<p>This, it will be understood, is only Mr. Macready’s +plea abridged, for he spoke more than five hours, +and often succeeded in winning a portion of his +hearers. But his influence was not so great on the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>jury, for, after less than an hour’s deliberation, they +brought in a verdict of guilty.</p> + +<p>On hearing the head juryman declare his client +guilty of murder, with extenuating circumstances +there could be no question about it—nothing of the +kind being allowed in the American law, Mr. Macready, +who had arisen, sank back overcome on +his chair. As for James Gobson, he did not betray +the least surprise, but a smile of scorn was on his lips.</p> + +<p>Hon. Mr. Douglas now arose. He read in a loud +voice the various articles of the penal law relating +to the case, and pronounced the accused condemned +to death. Then, after consulting an almanac, he +added:</p> + +<p>“James Gobson, unless you have some serious objection +to the day, you will be hanged on the +twenty-fifth of this month. To-day is Tuesday; it +will be a fortnight from to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“I should prefer, your honor,” answered the condemned +man, with much coolness, “to live a little +longer, but I have no other remark to make. +Wednesday awakens no repugnance in my mind. +On that day you will cause an innocent man to die.”</p> + +<p>After putting on his hat and clasping the hand of +his defender, James Gobson retired as calm as when +he had come there.</p> + +<p>The crowd, from which there had not been the +slightest murmur of approbation or disapprobation, +moved quietly away. It was evident, nevertheless, +that Mr. Macready had gained a certain number of +his hearers. To the minds of some there was a +doubt as to the guilt of his client.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></p> + +<p>The intrepid Young was one of the latter; for, as +he was leaving the court-room in company with +William Dow, the latter asking him if he was convinced, +he answered:</p> + +<p>“Not at all. That devil of a man did not betray +himself a single minute; he had the calmness of +an innocent man. Besides, what vexes me is that +we cannot put our hands on his accomplices or the +jewels of Miss Ada. Mr. Macready is right, if he +stole the jewels why did he come and give himself +up?”</p> + +<p>“To believe a thing you have to see it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, deuce take it, when I see a thing I know +it.”</p> + +<p>“Then, when the wind carries away your hat you +do not believe it is the wind because it is not visible. +Ah, my dear captain, you are the bravest soldier I +know, but you will never be a wise detective. Well, +now, to please you and quiet your conscience, I promise +to find you James Gobson’s accomplices and +his wife’s jewels.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that day my admiration for you will be unbounded.”</p> + +<p>William Dow received this flattering assurance +with a sad smile, which said that he had a very different +aim than the puerile satisfaction of vanity; +then he pressed the hand the chief of detectives offered +him and left, saying:</p> + +<p>“Yes, certainly, I shall find the accomplices, or +rather the aids, of James Gobson, and before long, +I hope.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII"> + CHAPTER XII. + <br><span class="small"> + HOW THE WORTHY MR. MIDLER EXHORTED HIS PENITENTS + TO DIE LIKE CHRISTIANS. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>William Dow resided in Sixth Avenue, in a pretty +and comfortably furnished house. He lived very +retired, with a charming child of sixteen, Miss +Jane, who called him “my friend,” and showed +him the most tender affection. Who the young girl +was none knew, and the few who tried to question +Mrs. Wandright, the governess, gained little, for +the good woman invariably answered: “Miss Jane +is the daughter of a distant relative of Mr. Dow; she +was an orphan, and he adopted her.”</p> + +<p>However it was, Miss Jane was an adorable +young girl, morally and physically. She was a +blonde, slender, but not fragile, with a rosy, smiling +mouth, large blue eyes, both lively and gentle, +and was pretty enough to set the least poetical +Yankee to dreaming. When one knew the kindness +of her heart, the uprightness of her mind, and +the refinement and purity of her sentiments, he +could not but adore her.</p> + +<p>William Dow adored her, but with a reserve, +tinged with melancholy, that caused a struggle +with his affectionate impulses.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> + +<p>When Miss Jane gazed at him with her pure eyes, +after one of his frequent absences, and throwing her +arms around his neck, covered his forehead and +cheeks with innocent kisses, scolding him gently for +leaving her so often, William, whose strength of +will we already know, would turn suddenly pale +and look sad.</p> + +<p>When unobserved he gazed at the child, who +looked smilingly at life, a shadow rested on his forehead +and his eyes became moist. One would have +thought Miss Jane was to him both the source of +happiness and remorse.</p> + +<p>She occupied all of the first story of the house. +She had a dainty sleeping-room and a large parlor, +fragrant with flowers, and filled with birds. Mrs. +Wandright occupied a small room near her pupil’s +apartments.</p> + +<p>William Dow reserved the ground floor for himself, +the principal room being his study. There +he received the chief of police, Captain Young, +and a few rare friends, but the most of his time +was spent in solitude, his only companions being +the books in his library.</p> + +<p>Sometimes Miss Jane would come and take her +friend away from his work, and he would then +smile at the little girl he so dearly loved that she +might have no anxiety. Occasionally they went +out together, sometimes on horseback, sometimes +on foot, and he completed her education during +this exercise by interesting and instructive conversation. +In a word, between these two, whom a +mysterious event had united, there existed an intimacy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>of admiration and love on the part of the +child, and protection and duty on the part of the +man.</p> + +<p>“How learned you are, my friend,” cried Jane, +when, in his clear, precise way of stating things, +her professor had explained to her some physical +phenomenon or some controverted point in history.</p> + +<p>William Dow, turning aside his head, blushed as +if the compliment awoke some sorrowful memory.</p> + +<p>Although Miss Jane was carefully guarded against +indulging unhealthy curiosity, she learned, as every +one in New York, the history of the drowned woman, +James Gobson’s arrest and his appearance before +the Criminal Court. Therefore she was impatiently +awaiting William Dow, and when she heard him +come in she ran to meet him in her eagerness to +hear the news.</p> + +<p>“Confess it was just,” said the detective, “the +wretch is condemned to death.”</p> + +<p>The young girl, in the kindness of her heart +could not restrain a cry of pity, and, no doubt, she +was about to ask for the details, but William Dow +adroitly changed the conversation.</p> + +<p>In the city hardly anything was talked of that +evening but the sentence of James Gobson; and +the next day when the papers gave the arguments, +there were two opinions as among the hearers in +court. The majority thought the sentence just, +while the minority believed the explanations of the +lawyer Macready, regarding the innocence of the +condemned, or at least, the doubt, of which he +ought to have the benefit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span></p> + +<p>But James Gobson belonged to no political party +or religious sect, or any small church, and as none, +in consequence, had any direct interest through +party spirit in making himself his defender, the +excitement rapidly died away, to be roused again +on the eve of the execution.</p> + +<p>All this time, Mary, who was on guard at the +abandoned home, had been making an inventory +of the unfortunate Miss Ada’s wardrobe, while +the condemned man passed the last days allowed +him by his honor Judge Douglas, with considerable +bravery.</p> + +<p>“He is a very agreeable boarder,” said Mr. +Peters, the manager of the Tombs. “He has received +an excellent education, and I enjoy calling +on him. Everything will go very quietly between +Master Meyer and him.”</p> + +<p>The amiable Mr. Peters smiled as he got off this +dismal joke, for Meyer, as we have said, was the +hangman for the County of New York.</p> + +<p>It was with him that James Gobson would have +to do in a few days.</p> + +<p>While awaiting this dreadful moment the prisoner +seemed to be taking things rather philosophically. +When the worthy Mr. Midler, the reverend +Methodist, whose charge it was to prepare the condemned +for death, came to visit him, James Gobson +politely begged him to leave him in quiet; then he +offered the worthy man, in the place of a religious +talk, a glass of sherry, which was always accepted.</p> + +<p>Mr. Midler was a worthy man, gentle and indulgent, +having ordinary intelligence, but an excellent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>stomach, which made him sometimes forget one of +the fundamental principles of the sect to which he +belonged—to set the example of abstinence. He +liked good living and good wines, which had a +visible effect, for he was plump and fresh, rosy-faced +and smiling.</p> + +<p>Such was the consoler whom James Gobson received +politely, but whose holy exhortations he +philosophically repelled.</p> + +<p>However, when a week had elapsed, the condemned +lost his calmness somewhat at times, it +required an effort to repress his anger, and when +Mr. Mortimer, the sheriff, who was to be present +at his execution, came to see him on the evening +of the fatal day, he arose and walked directly +toward him.</p> + +<p>The honorable magistrate, perhaps for a moment, +believed that the prisoner was going to make him +some important revelation, but, as if ashamed of +his weakness, James Gobson suddenly resumed his +ordinary demeanor and simply asked his visitor:</p> + +<p>“It is to-morrow, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; to-morrow, at nine o’clock in the morning,” +answered the sheriff, “and I come to offer +myself as an intermediary in case you have any +legal arrangements to make or any papers to convey +to your family.”</p> + +<p>“I am very grateful to you; you will find my +will in my pocket; it contains my last wishes.”</p> + +<p>“Have you nothing else to say to me?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing, unless, as it is, to protest my innocence +for the last time.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> + +<p>“Would you like to receive a call from the pastor, +Midler?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow morning, certainly. The worthy +chaplain will help me to finish the bottle of excellent +whiskey which the warden kindly sent me; +besides, when one has a disagreeable journey to +take it is always well to be accompanied and encouraged, +as long as possible, by a worthy man.”</p> + +<p>Finding that he would obtain nothing from the +condemned, Mr. Mortimer wished him good courage +and left.</p> + +<p>James Gobson returned to his table and leaned +on his elbow, hiding his pale face in his hands. If +the sheriff could have seen him then he would have +discovered that there had been more bravado than +real courage in his attitude. It seemed as if, sustained +until then by an imaginary hope, it was now +lost.</p> + +<p>But he dined as usual, passed the night without +complaining, and the next day at seven o’clock, +when Mr. Midler came to him he manifested no +emotion. Now, there remained but a few hours +for him to live.</p> + +<p>This was his own conviction, and he was listening +to Mr. Midler’s religious exhortations with more +thoughtfulness than the latter had hoped, when +suddenly the door of the cell was opened to admit +the warden, accompanied by Mr. Mortimer and Davis.</p> + +<p>The prisoner turned somewhat pale, but soon recovering +that powerful self-command of which he +had given so many proofs, he said to them in a firm +voice, taking out his watch:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p> + +<p>“Why, gentlemen, you are ahead of time; it is +hardly eight o’clock, and the execution is not to be +until nine.”</p> + +<p>“You will not be hanged to-day, James Gobson,” +replied the sheriff.</p> + +<p>“Why not? Is there any sudden proof of my innocence? +It was time.”</p> + +<p>“No; but a serious accident has happened to +Meyer.”</p> + +<p>“Meyer, ah! I know.”</p> + +<p>“He broke his leg a moment ago.”</p> + +<p>“Poor man.”</p> + +<p>“As his aid is a young, inexperienced man, I have +had to telegraph to have Meyer’s assistant sent me, +and he cannot arrive until this evening.”</p> + +<p>“Then it will be to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“It will be to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>And, bowing to the prisoner as well as the pastor, +the officers left the cell.</p> + +<p>“Supposing we continue our conversation,” said +the reverend gentleman to Gobson, after their departure.</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Mr. Gobson, warmly, his face +having suddenly recovered its sceptical expression; +“no, Mr. Midler, we will not resume it until to-morrow +morning, if you will be so kind. I have +arisen earlier to-day than usual, and all these successive +emotions have made a hollow place in my +stomach. Will you do me the honor to breakfast +with me? I have two bottles of exquisite port +which I did not expect to drink; we will empty +them together. I promise to listen to you while +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>eating, and we will strengthen at the same time +both soul and body.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Mr. Gobson,” sighed the good minister, +somewhat abashed at the pleasantry, but +evidently touched by the proposition. “It is my +mission to remain with you until the time of——”</p> + +<p>“The rope. Well, since an accident to Master +Meyer gives me twenty-four hours more, let us breakfast.”</p> + +<p>James Gobson had called the guard and ordered +some ham, cold meats and Chester cheese.</p> + +<p>Good Mr. Midler was sitting opposite his penitent.</p> + +<p>“To your health,” said the latter, after filling a +glass for the excellent man.</p> + +<p>“To the health of your soul,” answered the pastor, +with true unction, and raising his eyes to heaven +he devoutly drank the wine, then bravely attacked +the iced partridge which his host had placed before +him.</p> + +<p>James Gobson also fell to with a will, and there +was a momentary silence between the convivial host +and guest.</p> + +<p>William Dow himself would have been astonished +at the philosophy and coolness of the man he had +caused to be arrested, and Mr. Davis, at the sight of +his calmness, would have remembered his first +doubts, which the arguments, it is true, had quickly +banished from his mind.</p> + +<p>When his partridge had disappeared, and his glass +was emptied a second time, the Methodist threw +himself back, uttering a deep sigh.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> + +<p>“What is the matter, reverend sir?” asked the +prisoner, affectionately.</p> + +<p>“What a misfortune,” answered Mr. Midler, +“that I did not know you sooner. I should certainly +have checked you by my advice on the path +you have entered.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think I regret it any less than you, sir? +Will you have a slice of this ham?”</p> + +<p>“Resist one’s propensities; everything is in that, +Mr. Gobson. This ham is excellent.”</p> + +<p>“It comes from York, where the best wine is had, +too.”</p> + +<p>“Yours is delicious. We are all predestined to +eternal felicity, and——”</p> + +<p>“Will you have a glass of port?”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure. And these are the first concessions +we make to our passions, and to our tastes, +which lead us on, but——”</p> + +<p>“Will you have a little of this cheese, it is perfect +for digestion?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, epicures think a great deal of it. But if +our miserable nature causes us to fall, God renders +our faith a justification and conversion takes place +instantaneously——”</p> + +<p>“Do you like coffee?”</p> + +<p>“I think it indispensable to every meal.”</p> + +<p>“I have not failed to ask for it. One would say +that my guard was only waiting for the proper +moment to bring it, for, see, here he comes.”</p> + +<p>In fact, the servant appointed to wait on the +prisoner was that moment entering the cell with a +waiter, which he placed on the table, then left.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></p> + +<p>James Gobson filled Mr. Midler’s cup, who thanked +him with a tender glance.</p> + +<p>“Do you smoke?” asked the prisoner.</p> + +<p>“No, thanks,” answered the minister; “Mrs. +Midler does not allow me to do so.”</p> + +<p>“But smoke does not incommode you.”</p> + +<p>“By no means. What was I saying?”</p> + +<p>“That God renders faith a justification, and that +conversion takes place instantly.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes! There is some pleasure in exhorting +with you.”</p> + +<p>“Talk on, sir, talk on; I am listening to you with +the most respectful attention; but do not let your +coffee get cold. You must take it smoking-hot or +iced; otherwise it is a detestable drink.”</p> + +<p>“You are right.” And while sipping his wine the +worthy Midler resumed: “The conversion is instantaneous.... +God’s miracles work ever ... +the soul is elevated, and if there is any account to +settle with men ... grace renders us worthy of +this eternal felicity for which we are all predestined.”</p> + +<p>But Gobson no longer listened, if ever he had listened +seriously. With his chair tipped back against +the wall, and leaning back in it, he was phlegmatically +sending rings of smoke from his cigar to the +ceiling, while his preacher, yielding to the influence +of digestion, lowered his voice more and more, +gently closed his eyelids, devoutly crossed his arms +on his bosom and fell into his customary doze, murmuring:</p> + +<p> + “Excellent port ... instantaneous pardon + ... York ham ... felicity eternal.” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII"> + CHAPTER XIII. +<br><span class="small">IN WHICH JAMES GOBSON MIRACULOUSLY ESCAPES +THE GALLOWS, AND THE HONORABLE CORONER +DAVIS’ REMORSE. + </span></h2> +</div> + + + +<p>By a strange coincidence, while this scene was occurring, +an inventory was being taken of Miss Ada’s +furniture and wardrobe.</p> + +<p>The owner of the house in Twenty-third Street +wishing to take possession of it unfurnished, the law +had decided that all that had belonged to the unhappy +woman should be sold, and that the proceeds of the +sale should be held three years at the disposition of +the heirs. At the expiration of this time the money +should be placed in the State treasury.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mortimer’s clerk and the sheriff took charge of +this inventory, and Mary, who, as we have said, +was watching the house, was helping these gentlemen. +They had just left the parlor to pass into the +sleeping-room, and the young girl, with many sobs +in her voice, was enumerating each of the articles +which the secretary of the justice of peace was writing +down on his list, when they heard a carriage +stop before the house.</p> + +<p>“It is the sheriff, no doubt,” said the clerk to Mary; +“you must run and let him in.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p> + +<p>“The watchman is below,” answered the maid.</p> + +<p>“Then let us hurry and get through our work.”</p> + +<p>But the young girl, who had just taken a bundle +of lace from one of the wardrobes, suddenly stood +still and her face became frightfully pale.</p> + +<p>She had heard in the hall, and the clerk and his +secretary also heard, a woman’s voice raised to an +angry pitch.</p> + +<p>Then the sound of hurrying footsteps was heard +in the parlor, the door of the sleeping-room suddenly +opened, a woman appeared, and Mary, with eyes +wild with fright, shrieked and leaned against a piece +of furniture to keep from falling.</p> + +<p>“What does all this mean?” asked the new comer, +with a questioning look at each actor in the scene.</p> + +<p>“Madam, Miss Ada!” gasped the servant. “Miss +Ada!” repeated the clerk, bounding from the arm-chair +on which he was reclining.</p> + +<p>“Well, yes, Miss Ada,” said the young woman. +“Are you all mad? And are you even more so than +the others?” she said, moving rapidly toward Mary, +who threw herself in her arms, crying:</p> + +<p>“I said that she was not dead!”</p> + +<p>“Dead! What do you say?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, dead,” repeated the clerk in his turn; +“they hanged your murderer this morning.”</p> + +<p>“My murderer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—James Gobson.”</p> + +<p>“James Gobson, my former husband?”</p> + +<p>“That very man, who killed you and threw you +into the water, three months ago.”</p> + +<p>“Killed me—threw me into the water? Unless +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>this is an odious joke you are playing, gentlemen, it +is frightful. Come, Mary, let us run and see what +it means.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is too late,” observed the sheriff. “Master +Meyer must have finished his work. It was at nine +o’clock, at the Tombs, as usual.”</p> + +<p>The woman gave a cry of horror and sank into a +chair; but she immediately arose, ran down the +stairs and into the street. Without taking time to +put on a hat or shawl, Mary followed her.</p> + +<p>The carriage which had brought the traveler was +waiting for her at the door; they both entered it, ordering +the driver to take them to the prison. The +horse set off at a gallop.</p> + +<p>But when, half an hour later, they reached the +square, on one side of which stood the Tombs, the +carriage got into so dense a crowd that it had to +stop.</p> + +<p>“It is impossible to go any farther,” said the +driver.</p> + +<p>Mary sprang to the ground. She had just caught +a glimpse of Captain Young, who, with the aid of +one of his agents, was trying to drive away the +curious crowd.</p> + +<p>“Captain,” she cried, “in the name of God, let us +pass.”</p> + +<p>“Will it be too late? Oh, these people alarm me. +I beg you, sir, to help us,” said the young woman +beseechingly, having joined her servant.</p> + +<p>“Too late?” asked the chief of detectives in his +rough voice, advancing toward them. “What do +you mean? There is no execution to-day.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span></p> + +<p>“What! no execution!” cried the mistress and +servant at the same time. “James Gobson is still +living.”</p> + +<p>“It is put off until to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“God be praised,” said the chamber-maid with a +sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>“‘God be praised.’ What is it to you?” repeated +Young.</p> + +<p>“What is it to us, captain?” answered Mary. +“Why, here is Miss Ada!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada,” exclaimed the detective.</p> + +<p>“My God, Miss Ada! My God!”</p> + +<p>Amazement would not allow him to say any more; +he led away the two women whom the crowd were +approaching, for the nearest among them had heard +the few words that had been exchanged, and they +repeated them aloud, pointing to the young woman.</p> + +<p>The agents made a passage for their chief, who, +after giving an order to one of his men, immediately +introduced mistress and maid into the prison +yard, then from there into the directors’ office.</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters, who was bending over his desk, +raised his head at the captain’s noisy entrance, and +at the sight of his two proteges, understanding nothing +of the unexpected visit, he opened his eyes +wide.</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada Ricard!” said Mr. Young, who not +having quite recovered from his amazement could +not utter another word.</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada Ricard,” said the officer, rising suddenly; +“the wife of....”</p> + +<p>“Her very self, sir,” affirmed the visitor; “the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>divorced wife of that unfortunate James Gobson, +who came near losing his life this morning through +a frightful mistake.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters gave one bound toward the woman +who said these words, and immediately recognizing +her he could not find words to express his astonishment. +His looks wandered wildly from her to +the chief of detectives, who repeated: “My God, +my God, what an adventure; I told Mr. Dow so.”</p> + +<p>“You must notify Mr. Kelly and Mortimer at +once,” said Mr. Peters finally to the captain, when +he had recovered somewhat.</p> + +<p>“I sent at once to one of my agents at the Central +office,” answered Young.</p> + +<p>“Meanwhile, gentlemen, cannot Miss Ada see +Mr. Gobson?” asked the young girl.</p> + +<p>“It would be cruel,” added her mistress, “to +leave him any longer in his horrible situation.”</p> + +<p>“You are right,” said the director, moving toward +the door. “I have, besides, no right to refuse the +prisoner a visitor. What a scandal it will be. +Come, accompany us, captain.”</p> + +<p>In passing the former, Mr. Peters crossed the +clerk’s court to reach that part of the prison in +which were the cells of those condemned to death.</p> + +<p>The worthy officer walked so quickly, shaking +his head and gesticulating, that the two women +could hardly keep up with him.</p> + +<p>Captain Young, who brought up the rear of the +procession, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Ah! this will be a sad story to tell friend Dow.”</p> + +<p>They thus reached, almost on a run, the corridor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>on which James Gobson’s cell opened. When he +had reached the door the director had it opened by +the guard, who immediately approached, and he +hastened in. The prisoner was still in the position +in which we left him. Lolling back in his chair, +he was finishing his second cigar, and the worthy +Mr. Midler, who was hardly awake, was psalmodizing +tenderly:</p> + +<p>“Yes, my dear Mr. Gobson, a second of repentance +on the part of the sinner is sufficient to pay for +all his errors, and....”</p> + +<p>But the sudden entrance of Mr. Peters cut short +the words of the good Methodist, and when he saw +the two women who were accompanying the director, +he rubbed his eyes, imagining perhaps that he +was still asleep.</p> + +<p>As for James Gobson, at the sight of the visitors +his face betrayed more strongly than it had done +since his sentence a violent emotion, but through a +strong effort of will he did not make a gesture or +utter a cry, and after having fixed his eyes upon the +young woman for a moment he turned to his guest, +saying to him in a perfectly calm voice:</p> + +<p>“Dear Mr. Midler, permit me to present to you +the former Mrs. Gobson, Miss Ada Ricard, my unfortunate +victim.”</p> + +<p>The reverend gentleman no longer thought he +was asleep—he believed he had become crazy.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me James for this horrible calamity, of +which I involuntarily came near being the cause,” +said the woman whom the prisoner at once recognized. +“It is fortunate that I came in time.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></p> + +<p>“If Master Meyer had not broken his leg you +would have come too late,” answered the prisoner +dryly.</p> + +<p>“I beg you to pardon me,” entreated the young +woman, approaching Gobson and holding out her +hands.</p> + +<p>“Yes, certainly, I pardon you, since you are +here;” and rising, he took in his and affectionately +pressed the hands of her who had saved his life.</p> + +<p>At the same instant Captain Young respectfully +made way for a new comer.</p> + +<p>It was Mr. Mortimer whom the messenger sent +by the chief of detectives met when within a few +steps of the prison.</p> + +<p>The sheriff was very pale and he stammered to +the pretty American:</p> + +<p>“Are you Miss Ada Ricard?”</p> + +<p>“I think so, sir,” answered the latter, smiling.</p> + +<p>In order to prove this identity, if the magistrate +had wished to call to his aid one of the well-known +details in the person of the former Mrs. Gobson, +a detail specified by Dr. O’Neel in his report of the +autopsy, he would have seen, when she smiled, the +space in her superb teeth; but he paid no attention +to it, for doubt was not possible.</p> + +<p>“You arrive just in time, madam,” he continued, +“to prevent an irreparable calamity; while waiting +for the legal examination have the kindness, I +beg, to explain your long absence.”</p> + +<p>“I am quite willing to do so, sir, but not here,” +she said, blushing. Mr. Mortimer understood, and +invited her to follow him into the clerk’s room.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span></p> + +<p>“I am ready to obey your orders, sir,” said Miss +Ada; “but what are you going to do with James +Gobson? Are we going to leave him here?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I find it very pleasant in the worthy Mr. +Midler’s society,” observed the condemned, smiling +at his consoler.</p> + +<p>The good Methodist could thank him only with +a low bow, for he hardly knew what he was about.</p> + +<p>“Madam,” said the sheriff, “I cannot give any +orders in regard to the prisoner.”</p> + +<p>“I understood the law did not foresee my case as +it now stands,” interrupted James.</p> + +<p>“The sentence must be revoked,” said the magistrate; +“but I think that Mr. Gobson can be set at +liberty at once.”</p> + +<p>“Whatever sum is fixed I will pay,” said the +young woman, warmly; “it is the least I can do +for a man whose life my absence came near costing. +I will see you soon again, James Commany.” +While saying these words, the former Mrs. Gobson +had walked toward the corridor, where Mr. Mortimer +awaited her.</p> + +<p>The prisoner now held out his hand to the pastor, +saying:</p> + +<p>“This does not prevent me from being quite +grateful for your holy exhortations, my reverend +friend; of course you did not expect what has just +happened; nor I, either. Suppose we finish our +spiritual conversation with a glass of brandy.”</p> + +<p>“The designs of God are unfathomable, dear Mr. +Gobson,” devoutly answered the good man, holding +out his glass; “but still preserve yourself from +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>the danger you have run, most certainly, for the +punishment of your errors.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I will never forget it. Here’s to my resurrection +and your health.”</p> + +<p>While drinking with Mr. Midler the prisoner resumed +on his chair that position essentially American +in which his deliverer had found him.</p> + +<p>The latter meanwhile was saying to Mr. Mortimer, +with whom the director had left her alone in +his office—</p> + +<p>“Unless it is indispensable to do otherwise, I should +much prefer, sir, not to confess the motives of my +journey, for the recital would oblige me to name +someone who is very desirous of remaining unknown. +Let it suffice you to know that this kidnapping, +laid to the account of my murderers, was +planned in advance, and that I passed the two months +and a half, partly on the sea and partly at Havana. +The only interesting point to the law is that here I +am, alive and in very good health. All else belongs +to my private life, and none has a right to ask an account +of it, for I am not, or rather I am no longer +married.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, madam,” answered the sheriff, +“you will, however, confess that this is very extraordinary.”</p> + +<p>“What is more so, still, is your singular mistake.”</p> + +<p>“The mistake was general.”</p> + +<p>“Not so, for neither Mr. Gobson nor Mary recognized +me in that unfortunate woman.”</p> + +<p>“You will see the cast which has been made of it +and you yourself will be amazed.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></p> + +<p>“But Mr. Saunders ought not to have been mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Saunders is a little out of his head. We +have not been able to get anything out of him.”</p> + +<p>“Poor man; this news pains me deeply.”</p> + +<p>“He accuses himself of your death. To believe +him, he killed you himself.”</p> + +<p>“He!”</p> + +<p>“At least as far as it was possible to understand +him.”</p> + +<p>“But, first, I hope you are going to let me go home +to my house.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. I have notified Mr. Davis, the coroner +in your district. In a moment he will be here, +and we will make out the necessary formalities.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Mortimer did not think he spoke so truly, for +that very moment the office door opened and Mr. +Kelly and Davis came out. In each of these magistrates +emotion was betrayed according to their respective +temperaments. The face of the big chief of +police was flushed as in a congestion, and that of the +coroner was of a livid pallor. After looking a few +seconds at the charming face of the young woman, +they exchanged despairing looks. It was no longer +to be doubted, ridicule would fall on both of +them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis, whose elevated mind saw only the +error committed, asked himself in horror what would +have become of his honor as a magistrate, if the absent +woman had not presented herself in time. He +certainly could not have endured the shame.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly, who was more positive, saw in this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>strange event only a calamity, which would singularly +affect his political career.</p> + +<p>When they had recovered somewhat the officers +questioned Miss Ada, who told the same story as to +Mr. Mortimer.</p> + +<p>“It is very well, madam,” answered the chief of +police, with difficulty conquering his anger; “but +you might have dispensed with that mysterious +journey. Devil take it, there was no one to object +to your going. You were free to jilt that stupid +Saunders for some one else. Who can that woman +be who resembles you so greatly? She was even +prettier than you. She had a tooth broken out and +an ear torn expressly—just as you have.”</p> + +<p>Kelly was so furious that, not very gallant usually, +he became absolutely rude. For sole answer to these +rude questions, the one to whom they were addressed +gave him a gracious smile, which disclosed the casket +that lacked a pearl, and approaching him she raised +with one pretty little finger the big diamond beneath +which was concealed the slight wound which she had +in her rosy and exquisitely shaped ear.</p> + +<p>All this was so coquettishly done that the gruff +officer could not help murmuring:</p> + +<p>“By George, she is a superb woman.”</p> + +<p>“Captain, you will go with the sheriff to escort +madam home and to put her in possession of her +house. You will afterwards join me at the central +office, and notify Mr. William Dow. This time he +was less shrewd than every one else. His blunder +will perhaps cost me dear.”</p> + +<p>Not thinking it prudent to defend his friend, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>chief of detectives gave a military salute, and pointing +out the way to Miss Ada, who had taken Mary’s +arm, left the prison with them.</p> + +<p>The crowd on the square was immense; it already +knew the error committed by the law, an error that +would have been irreparable, but for the accident to +the executioner, and the young woman was received +with enthusiastic hurrahs.</p> + +<p>If the captain had not kept the most excited ones +at a distance by means of his agents, they certainly +would have had to unharness the horses from the +carriage in which he was riding in company with +Mr. Mortimer, Miss Ada and Mary.</p> + +<p>Suspecting that a different reception was waiting +for him, Mr. Kelly hastened to take another direction +with Mr. Davis.</p> + +<p>“God be praised,” said the coroner, crossing the +threshold of the Tombs, “I should never have forgiven +myself that mistake.”</p> + +<p>“By George,” sighed the chief of police, “I fear +that my electors will never forgive me. Devil take +William Dow.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV"> + CHAPTER XIV. + <br><span class="small"> + IN WHICH WILLIE SAUNDERS PASSES FROM DESPAIR TO + AMAZEMENT, AND FROM AMAZEMENT TO ANGER. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>The news of the return of a woman whose corpse +a thousand persons had seen, caused an emotion +difficult to describe. At first the event seemed so +impossible that no one would believe it; and the +lawyers were accused of conniving with the police +to save the life of the condemned. But when the +papers published special supplements describing in +detail the scene that had taken place at the Tombs, +the most incredulous were obliged to accept the evidence. +The few defenders that James Gobson had +among the people had the best of the matter, and +the excitement increased so rapidly that the minister +of justice, the justice of the criminal court, Mr. +Kelly, and the sheriff and coroner thought it prudent +to release the prisoner on bail without further delay.</p> + +<p>For political reasons they set the sum, without +further consideration, at the insignificant figure of +one hundred dollars. They knew, moreover, that if +they had asked ten thousand dollars, a hundred individuals, +to gain a little popularity, would have +come to offer it themselves. Having come to this +decision, Mr. Mortimer ran at once to the Tombs to +erase the prisoner’s name from the jail register.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p> + +<p>James was about to play a game of chess with +the good Mr. Midler. When the magistrate had +apprised him of what had been done, he quietly made +his preparations, went down to the clerk’s office, +counted out the one hundred dollars for the keeper +of the prison, Mr. Peters, and after shaking hands +with the worthy Methodist, whose eyes filled with +tears, he went out by the door through which Mr. +Kelly and Davis had passed a few hours before, in +order to avoid the crowd.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going to put up?” asked the +sheriff, who was accompanying James Gobson.</p> + +<p>“To the ‘United States,’ where I am unknown, +sir,” he answered; “but I think it polite to devote +my first moments of liberty to Miss Ada Ricard. +Although she came near arriving too late, I nevertheless +owe her a visit of thanks.”</p> + +<p>And, hailing a passing hack, James bowed to the +sheriff, then entered the carriage, giving orders to +drive to No. 17 East Twenty-third Street.</p> + +<p>At the same moment William Dow reached the +central police office. Learning through public rumor +of the return of the drowned woman, he did not +wait for Mr. Kelly to send for him.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the latter, “what do you think of +this foolish event?”</p> + +<p>“I think, Mr. Kelly,” he answered, “that it is a +foolish mistake, and that it is very fortunate that it +did not become an irreparable error.”</p> + +<p>“You are, in a measure, the cause of it.”</p> + +<p>“I! Was it I who recognized Miss Ada in the +dead woman, whom I had never seen?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span></p> + +<p>“No; but it was you who had James Gobson arrested.”</p> + +<p>“I arrested him only a little sooner, perhaps, +than you would have ordered the arrest yourself. +Confess that the body, really being that of Mrs. +Gobson, the guilt of her husband could be doubted +by none.”</p> + +<p>“Evidently. The lawyer for the State proved it +as plain as daylight. O’Brien never was so eloquent.”</p> + +<p>“To Mr. Davis especially, who had the examination, +the blow is heavy.”</p> + +<p>“That is the least of my troubles. What disturbs +me is that my reputation and position are jeopardized. +But was there ever such a resemblance even +in the slightest details? One would think some +political enemy chose the corpse particularly to defeat +me. There are not only the same features, +but the tooth is gone and the ear cut as in the +drowned woman. It is enough to make one lose +one’s head.”</p> + +<p>“It is certainly inexplicable, and this coincidence +of circumstances confuses the mind.”</p> + +<p>“Here I am with this corpse on my hands. It is +not enough to find this roving woman whom the +devil ought to have carried off, and not to have +hung this Gobson, whom the devil would gladly +have taken, I am convinced, but we must now +discover the name of the drowned woman and that +of her murderer.”</p> + +<p>“We will find out all that.”</p> + +<p>“If we fail, my dear Dow, I am a lost man.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span></p> + +<p>“We shall succeed. Let me study this mystery +a little. Meanwhile face the storm bravely.” And +clasping the hand of Mr. Kelly, who hardly knew +what saint to call on, William Dow went home, +more anxious than he appeared. He knew that the +chief of police was right, and that public sentiment, +doubly excited, exacted double satisfaction for the +revising of James Gobson’s case and the explanation +of the mystery that surrounded the death of the +strange body found near Wharf 43.</p> + +<p>During this time the crowd thronged Twenty-third +Street, and the reporters literally besieged Miss Ada +Ricard’s house. She had received several of her +former servants, who, through personal interest or +curiosity, had hastened to visit her at the first news +of her return. After generously rewarding them +for their sympathy, she dismissed them, saying that +she would not reorganize her house for several days. +Then the tradesmen came one after the other, protesting +the sorrow they had felt and their present +delight at seeing her again; and this procession had +already lasted two hours, when formidable hurrahs +were suddenly heard in the street.</p> + +<p>“Go see what it is, Mary,” said Miss Ada, becoming +somewhat pale.</p> + +<p>Mary sprang to the window, and immediately +answered laughingly:</p> + +<p>“It is Mr. Gobson, madam, whom the crowd has +recognized and is following with cheers.”</p> + +<p>At the same moment the bell was rung. Mary +ran to open the door; and Gobson, after giving +three ringing cheers by way of thanks, crossed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>the threshold of the house. But that was not +enough for the curious, and the cry a thousand +times repeated of “Miss Ada! Miss Ada!” immediately +rang out.</p> + +<p>“You must show yourself, madam,” said one of +the journalists who was present.</p> + +<p>At the same instant James Gobson entered the +parlor and held out his hand to his former wife.</p> + +<p>“And show yourself with Mr. Gobson,” added +the reporter.</p> + +<p>“The gentleman is right,” said the released +prisoner, “otherwise these people might push in +your door.”</p> + +<p>Then taking the young woman’s arm, who did +not seem much inclined to exhibit herself thus, he +went with her out on to the balcony. There was +then an indescribable enthusiasm, and a racket +enough to drive one crazy. The cries of “Miss Ada, +Gobson forever!” were mingled with complaints +and epithets not very flattering to Mr. Kelly. This +lasted half an hour, and the crowd did not become +quiet until Gobson made a sign that he was going to +make a speech.</p> + +<p>“Citizens,” he said, in a stentorian voice, “Miss +Ada and I thank you sincerely for this sympathetic +demonstration.”</p> + +<p>“Hurrah! hurrah!” repeated the crowd in delirium. +James Gobson, after bowing a last time, +gallantly offered his arm to Ada Ricard and entered +the house.</p> + +<p>A person who was no less moved at the reappearance +of the drowned woman than those of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>whom we have just spoken, was Mr. Robertson, +Jr., whom one of his agents had informed of the +event at the very first. He, too, had been deceived +like a mere police officer. His vanity was greatly +piqued, whatever joy his elder brother might manifest, +for he, it is remembered, had been the rival +of Mr. Kelly in the last elections.</p> + +<p>The chief of the agency saw in the error of the +chief of police the surety of a brilliant political +revenge, and he congratulated himself; but Mr. +Robertson, Jr., who was more of an artist, could +not forgive himself for having made what he, at +the time, thought, the skilful deductions which we +have already placed before our readers. What +consoled him a little was, that in order to avoid +being called upon as a witness, and not to compromise +his establishment, he had confided in none, +not even in Saunders, who, however, was not in a +condition to understand him, pursued as the unhappy +man was by the fixed idea of being Miss +Ada’s murderer. However, thinking it wise to get +credit with the cracker-merchant for having prevented +him from denouncing himself, Mr. Robertson, +Jr., resolved to go and see him immediately.</p> + +<p>Mr. Saunders was calmer than when we met him +a few weeks before. He had finally persuaded +himself that if Miss Ada had fallen into the water +near Staten Island, that she was not drowned in +that spot, but had been the victim of a crime, of +which Colonel Forster, perhaps, might be guilty. +Later, when James Gobson’s guilt was so convincingly +shown at the trial, the worthy merchant did +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>not try to explain how it could be that Miss Ada +had fallen from the colonel’s yacht into the hands +of her former husband; he adopted the conclusions +of the State lawyer and silenced his conscience, to +listen only to the voice of his heart, or to give himself +wholly up to the sorrow caused by the death +of his loved one.</p> + +<p>His friends urged him to interest himself in business, +but he could not bring his mind to it; he +passed almost all his days at home, drinking, eating, +and sighing. It was at this last occupation +that Mr. Robertson, Jr., surprised him. He had +not heard a word about the young woman’s return.</p> + +<p>“You are a very welcome visitor,” he said to the +agent; “tell me how that infamous murderer went +to the gallows.”</p> + +<p>“Dear sir,” answered the young man, “the execution +has been postponed until to-morrow, on account +of Meyer having broken his leg, the accident +saved the prisoner.”</p> + +<p>“Saved, how?” repeated Saunders, without understanding.</p> + +<p>“Yes, saved; for Miss Ada Ricard, the victim, +has returned.”</p> + +<p>The stout man leaped from his chair and opened +his eyes, gasping:</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada returned! Miss Ada!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Ada,” resumed Robertson, Jr.</p> + +<p>“The devil!”</p> + +<p>“Do be calm. You see I was right to advise you +to be silent in regard to the adventure at Staten +Island. We should have uselessly compromised +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>ourselves. Yes, Miss Ada has returned; she was +merely on a voyage.”</p> + +<p>“In company with that d——d Foster, but what +of that other, that other?”</p> + +<p>“The drowned woman. Who she is no person +knows.”</p> + +<p>“Have you seen Miss Ada?”</p> + +<p>“No; but one of my agents who was at the +Tombs when she arrived followed her to her door.”</p> + +<p>“Did she return to her house?”</p> + +<p>“Two hours ago, at least.”</p> + +<p>“And Mary, the wretch, did not notify me.”</p> + +<p>“Who is Mary?”</p> + +<p>“Her maid.”</p> + +<p>On saying this, Saunders had taken his hat and +run out of the room.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going, pray?” asked Mr. Robertson, +running after him.</p> + +<p>“Where am I going? Why, to Miss Ada’s +house.”</p> + +<p>“I wish to tell the wretch what I think of her +conduct.”</p> + +<p>“Or to fall at her feet.”</p> + +<p>The unhappy cracker-merchant suddenly stopped +still. The secret agent had aimed a true blow. It +was more love than anger that led the inflammable +Yankee to the unfaithful one.</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” he said, “I still love her; and I +wish to see her,” he added, with a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>“Then I will accompany you,” proposed Robertson.</p> + +<p>“If you wish.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span></p> + +<p>The young man was delighted to profit by the +opportunity to see alive the woman whom he had +known only through the corpse at the morgue. +They sprang into a carriage, and soon reached No. +17 East Twenty-third Street.</p> + +<p>Satisfied by the speech James Gobson had made +them, the crowd had dispersed, and only a few +groups remained around the house.</p> + +<p>Mr. Robertson helped his companion to alight, +and rang the bell. Mary answered it, but at the +sight of Saunders’ flushed face, and not feeling +very easy in her conscience, she uttered a cry and +ran away to warn her mistress. The latter was +having a private talk with James Gobson.</p> + +<p>“Bah! receive him,” advised the former husband, +complacently, “and try to get rid of him if you +can, and especially if you wish to do so.”</p> + +<p>The young woman left her room, closed the door +behind her and passed into the parlor.</p> + +<p>It was time. The stout Saunders, who had +climbed the stairs with an agility quite juvenile, +was crossing the threshold of this room.</p> + +<p>“Ada, my dear Ada!” he cried, rushing toward +her.</p> + +<p>The poor man had forgotten his anger, and remembered +only his love. With arms held out, he +thought only of forgiving. But, to his amazement, +the ungrateful woman withdrew from his embrace, +and merely held out her hand, saying:</p> + +<p>“My dear Saunders, you, too, thought me dead, +and I will never forgive you such an error. However, +I am none the less delighted to see you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span></p> + +<p>All this was said in so calm and chilling a tone +that the unfortunate cracker-merchant, already exhausted +and breathless, felt his limbs give way beneath +him. Fortunately, Mr. Robertson supported +him to a lounge, on which he sank heavily, with +his great, tearful eyes fixed on her for whom he had +wept so much, and who had received him thus, he +was really pitiable to behold.</p> + +<p>Miss Ada seated herself near him and took his +hand.</p> + +<p>“Come, my good Saunders,” she said, “have a +little courage. I still love you very much, but I am +going to leave New York.”</p> + +<p>“To return with Colonel Forster. Oh! I will kill +him,” murmured the merchant.</p> + +<p>“With Colonel Forster? I do not know what +you mean.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible? But, Robertson, tell her that we +know all.”</p> + +<p>“I know nothing,” answered the agent, who +wished merely to play the part of a looker-on in this +call.</p> + +<p>It was too much for the unhappy man, whose +head was not yet steady. Ada repulsed him, and +his friend Robertson denied him. Exasperated and +furious, he suddenly arose, and casting a scornful +look at the young woman, he left the parlor with +something like an air of dignity.</p> + +<p>Robertson, Jr., who had nothing more to do in +the house, bowed to Miss Ada and followed Saunders, +to whom he said, when he had joined him on +the door-step:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span></p> + +<p>“Pardon me for having given you the lie, dear +sir; but it is useless for us to both appear in the +revision which is to be opened. Do you wish any +advice? Remain quietly at home and forget Miss +Ada; she is not worthy of your love.”</p> + +<p>“She is a cheat,” he gasped, in the manner of a +peroration, and as if speaking to himself more than +to his companion.</p> + +<p>A few moments later he saw William Dow on +the threshold of his door, and he gave a cry of joy. +“Oh, my only friend,” he said to the detective, falling +almost into his arms. “She is living; I have +just come from her house. What a wretch she is! +You must do me the service to find that cursed +Colonel Forster; I wish to fight with him. If he +refuses, I will kill him.”</p> + +<p>“Be calm, dear Mr. Saunders,” answered William, +helping the poor man to ascend his steps. “In the +first place I will not go to Forster, because he is not +in New York. If it is he who carried off Miss Ada, +she did not return with him. We know that his +yacht is now in the harbor, and that she returned to +the city by the Harlem Railroad. You understand +that Mr. Edward Forster, who must now be acquainted +with all this scandal, does not care to give +explanations that are compromising to him.”</p> + +<p>“That is true, dear Mr. Dow,” murmured Saunders, +sinking back in an arm-chair, for while exchanging +these words, the friends had reached the +merchant’s parlor. “Besides, of what use would it +be for you, a peaceful citizen, to fight with that +officer?” continued the detective. “A duel would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>not restore you Miss Ada; and that thief of a +Robertson, after taking I don’t know how many +thousand dollars from me for absurd information, +seems to think this girl’s conduct very natural.”</p> + +<p>“What, Robertson; one of the firm of the agency +of Robertson & Co.?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Robertson, Jr. Upon my word, it is even +worse. I would like to tell you all that passed between +him and me.”</p> + +<p>And the good Saunders, whose heart overflowed, +told William Dow all that our readers know about +the secret agent; then he concluded by giving him +the famous report that had caused the expedition to +Staten Island.</p> + +<p>“All this is truly extraordinary,” said the police +officer, shaking his head, after having carefully read +the document. “Trust this report to me.”</p> + +<p>“Willingly,” answered the cracker-merchant. +“What are you going to do with it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing against the Robertson agency, but +it contains details which may be useful to me some +day or another. I would like also a photograph of +Miss Ada. You must have one.”</p> + +<p>“Only one, dear sir; here it is. And see, here is +the letter that unhappy woman wrote to her maid +to tell her not to be anxious in her absence. The +wretch!”</p> + +<p>The poor lover had drawn from his pocket-book +the photograph of the woman, which was inclosed +in the note which Mary had given him a few +moments after having received it from her mistress. +He handed the whole to the detective, giving a sigh.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span></p> + +<p>William Dow passed more than an hour with +Saunders, and when he left it was with a smile on +his lips, and he said, to the amazement of the simple +Mr. Saunders: “Have patience; I think I am beginning +to understand.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV"> + CHAPTER XV. + <br><span class="small"> + WILLIAM DOW’S PROMISE. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>In order to quiet public opinion by giving it one +of the two sources of satisfaction it demanded, the +district attorney urged the higher criminal court to +hasten the revision of the case of James Gobson.</p> + +<p>When the first examination was made, Mr. Mortimer +and Davis had heard certain rumors concerning +the role which Colonel Forster must have played in +the kidnapping of Ada Ricard, but they paid little +attention to them, because it had not been proved +that the rumor had a serious basis, afterwards because +the officer was too important a man to be compromised +on simple suspicion.</p> + +<p>Later, when the corpse was discovered, Dr. +O’Neel had assigned for the death of the victim +a date after the departure of the yacht which, to +every one, had set off the day after the ball given +at No. 17 East Twenty-third Street. Then came +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>the arrest of Gobson and the proving of his guilt, +and the magistrates had congratulated themselves +on the perspicacity which they had shown in not +pronouncing the name of Colonel Forster, whom +some political enemies would have been delighted +to see figure in this scandalous and dramatic affair. +But after that had passed and the return of +Miss Ada, which had preceded by only a few days +the entrance of the Gleam into New York harbor, +the complicity of the gallant officer in the kidnapping +of the pretty New Yorker was no longer to be +doubted.</p> + +<p>Now, although neither the lawyers nor the police +could see anything to object to in this act, since +Miss Ada did not complain, Mr. Mortimer and +Davis thought they could not do otherwise than +question the colonel, in order to obtain from him a +declaration of a nature to enlighten the magistrates +charged with the revision of the case relating to the +employment of the time of the woman whose +absence had caused this bad judicial error. What +might be worse would be Colonel Forster’s refusal +to say anything. In that case it would be necessary +to do without him, and they could not count on +Ada Ricard.</p> + +<p>Having been questioned twice, she answered:</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you how I passed my time without +compromising some one to whom I have promised +silence. If that person releases me from my +promise I will speak, although I do not see wherein +it concerns justice. I am not dead, for here I am, +and that seems to me the essential point.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> + +<p>Mr. Mortimer and Davis knew so well that the +young woman was in the right that they used every +art before asking Mr. Forster for information; but +to their great delight, from their first overtures on +this subject the officer said to them:</p> + +<p>“You understand, gentlemen, that I am very +anxious not to figure in any way in these debates +to which I am absolutely a stranger, excepting by +the single fact of the error committed; but as I am +of the opinion that none should refuse his aid to +the laws of his country, I am ready to tell you everything, +provided you give me your word of honor +not to speak my name, to give publicity either +to myself or the adventure.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff and the coroner readily promised all +that the colonel wished, and the day after Mr. +Forster went to the house of Mr. Douglas, the judge +of the Criminal Court.</p> + +<p>They found Mr. Kelly, Mortimer and Davis there, +and when these magistrates thanked him for his +readiness to place himself at their disposal, when +they pledged themselves again to the most entire +discretion, they introduced Miss Ada Ricard, who +had been invited to the rendezvous.</p> + +<p>The elegant officer hastened to hold out his hand +to the young woman, and she answered his greeting +with a charming smile.</p> + +<p>Colonel Forster then gave a frank account of the +manner in which the proposal to carry off Miss +Ada had been made to him by a man he did not +know, and the subsequent events of which the +reader is already informed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p> + +<p>The officers thanked him warmly, and the reunion +ended.</p> + +<p>In less than a fortnight after this the Criminal +Court met for the revision of James Gobson’s case, +who lived as he told Mr. Mortimer, at the United +States Hotel, but who saw the woman who bore his +name almost every day.</p> + +<p>One would have said that the grave events in +which the divorced couple had found themselves, +had lessened their former grievance; that they had +forgiven each other their mutual wrongs, and that +the woman forgot the brutalities of the husband +as the husband forgot the unfaithfulness of the +wife.</p> + +<p>It was known that the latter was to appear before +the court to defend James against the suspicions +which had led to his arrest and his sentence, and +this prospect gave the new arguments a doubly +piquant attraction.</p> + +<p>Therefore, on the day of the hearing, the court-room +was filled at an early hour. At the entrance +of James Gobson a round of applause rang through +the room, and when Miss Ada Ricard appeared on +the arm of the lawyer, Macready, the crowd gave +a true ovation.</p> + +<p>The court opened, and the lawyer for the State +presented the case, explaining with great clearness +and perfect loyalty, how the lawyers had been led to +commit an error, which, fortunately, was reparable. +He concluded by asking the jury to render a negative +verdict, and to the court to acquit and reinstate the +man so unjustly condemned.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span></p> + +<p>Matters would have ended thus, but that would +not have answered for the lawyer Macready. It +was too fine an occasion for criticising the police, +the criminal examination, the law and justice. For +the defender of James Gobson this case might be +the turning-point in his political career. He must +profit by it.</p> + +<p>In the first place, as had been agreed, the young +woman arose, and spoke in a voice sufficiently moved +by emotion:</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen, I deeply regret that the law should +have sought, in my conjugal life with Mr. Gobson, +troubles of a nature to arouse its suspicions. If, for +reasons I need not recall, I had to ask for divorce, I +must protest against the character which the requirements +of the examination gave to him whose +wife I was. Mr. Gobson has never ceased to be an +honest man, and it would have been easy, by addressing +those who formerly knew him, to gain the +conviction that he could not have become a thief or +assassin. For my part, while waiting for the just +reparation to which he is entitled, I ask pardon for +having been the involuntary cause of the misfortune +that has befallen him.”</p> + +<p>One can easily imagine the shouts of applause +with which this little speech was received by the +audience. Mr. Macready let it subside somewhat, +then he took the stand.</p> + +<p>We will not give his address. It was crushing to +Mr. Mortimer and Davis, and especially to the chief +of police.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kelly was a political enemy and the defender +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>was pitiless. He specified him to the electors as unworthy +of being elected, and he concluded by saying +what besides was absolutely true, from the standpoint +of the law, that the magistrates, who had +come near hanging an innocent person, should esteem +themselves very happy that James Gobson did +not demand great damages.</p> + +<p>This terrible harangue had no less success than +Miss Ada’s few words, and in less than a quarter +of an hour the jury, having given a unanimous +negative verdict, the court acquitted and reinstated +James Gobson.</p> + +<p>As expected, this result excited an enthusiasm +that amounted to delirium when the young woman, +with a smile on her lips, was seen to approach her +former husband and hold out her hand to him in a +friendly manner.</p> + +<p>Among the spectators were William Dow and +Captain Young, hidden behind the curious privileged +ones who had found a place within the +railing.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Dow,” said the chief of the detectives +to his friend, when all was concluded, “it is done, +and I am delighted. This affair weighed on my +conscience somewhat.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Young,” answered William, pointing to +James Gobson and Miss Ada, who were leaving by +the magistrate’s door in order to avoid the crowd. +“I think that those two have simply come here to +mock at justice.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing that you can understand this moment.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></p> + +<p>The zealous detective, without adding a word, +parted from the captain, who irreverently shrugged +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>It was evident that through the judicial error he +had caused, one mysterious character now seemed +hardly worthy the admiration of the terrible Young.</p> + +<p>But the one most displeased with William Dow +was the stout Kelly, and he received him quite +coldly when he presented himself at his office a week +later.</p> + +<p>“It is vain for you to excuse yourself,” he said +to him in a gruff tone, “and to give me the most +favorable explanations; it is none the less true +that, politically, I am a lost man. If we could discover +the identity of the drowned woman, I could +recover myself; but we shall do nothing of the +sort, nothing! That imbecile of a Young is arresting +twenty drunkards and as many pickpockets +by way of compensation. It is enough to drive one +out of his mind. I can only send in my resignation.”</p> + +<p>“Be careful how you do that, dear Mr. Kelly,” +said our hero, after leaving the chief of the police +to vent his bile. “You know that Gobson and Ada +Ricard left New York this morning.”</p> + +<p>“May Satan carry them off and they may go hang +elsewhere.”</p> + +<p>“When will the elections take place?”</p> + +<p>“In four months.”</p> + +<p>“Can you give a leave of absence of a fortnight +to Captain Young?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, yes, for all the good he does in New +York. Where are you going to send him?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p> + +<p>“I shall send him nowhere. I am going to take +him with me.”</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p>“Ah! that is my secret.”</p> + +<p>“If you only had one to help me get back my +electors.”</p> + +<p>“By how many votes have you been nominated?”</p> + +<p>“By forty-five thousand.”</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear Mr. Kelly, in four months you +will have ten thousand votes more. It is I who +promise you. I am so far certain of it that I give +you my word.”</p> + +<p>“By George! tell me a little what you——”</p> + +<p>“Not a word, if you will allow me. Give Young +his leave of absence and count on me. All that I +ask of you are very strong letters of recommendation +to your police friends in Boston, Buffalo, Jefferson, +and San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“This evening the letters will be at your house.”</p> + +<p>The chief of police escorted William Dow to the +office door.</p> + +<p>“This fellow is capable of doing what he says,” +murmured Kelly, reseating himself in his arm-chair, +“only why does he take the captain with him, as +he is good for nothing? After all it does not matter. +If he keeps his promise, and in four months I beat +that Robertson, I shall ask no more of him, not +even what has become of that brute of a Young, if +he does not bring him back with him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI"> + CHAPTER XVI. + <br><span class="small"> + WILLIAM DOW’S REVENGE—SEEKING THE UNKNOWN. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Almost a fortnight had elapsed, and New York +had forgotten James Gobson’s case, although the +identity of the drowned woman had not been discovered, +and her assassin was unknown, when, +one evening the hotel stage brought to the Union +Hotel, at Jefferson City, Mo., three travelers, whom +fate seemed to have united for pleasure by the love +of contrasts.</p> + +<p>One was of medium height, of an intelligent +countenance, and distinguished bearing. The other +was tall, with a bony frame and surly expression. +The third was stout, florid, with a good, placid +face and innocent look. Our readers have already +recognized William Dow, Captain Young, and poor +Saunders.</p> + +<p>These three travelers had left New York only +three days before, under the following circumstances: +One morning William Dow paid an unexpected +visit to the cracker-merchant, for the +latter had not seen him since James Gobson was reinstated.</p> + +<p>“Is it you, Mr. Dow?” cried Saunders; “then +you haven’t quite forgotten me?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span></p> + +<p>“I have scarcely thought of you, on the contrary,” +answered the detective, clasping the hand of the +merchant.</p> + +<p>“Where were you?”</p> + +<p>“I have been to Buffalo.”</p> + +<p>“To Buffalo?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the city where Miss Ada and her husband +used to live before the divorce. I will tell you later +about this little trip. At present there is something +else to think of. Do you still wish to avenge yourself +upon the man who carried off Miss Ada?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. I wish also to be avenged on the +cheat herself.”</p> + +<p>All the anger, and perhaps all the love of the +susceptible Yankee awoke at the memory of the +woman, and the indifferent way in which she forsook +him.</p> + +<p>“Then,” resumed Dow, “regulate your business +for an absence of about ten days. I will take you +with me.”</p> + +<p>Saunders had not asked his friend where he +wished to take him; he simply went, valise in +hand and a pocket-book stuffed with bank notes, +to meet him at the Washington depot. It was the +same with Young. Mr. Kelly having notified the +chief of detectives that he might go with William +Dow when the latter desired, the terrible captain +had not ventured a remark. When he received +the order to meet him at the station he merely +announced his departure at the central office, and +he manifested but little surprise when he met Mr. +Saunders at the railway station.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span></p> + +<p>During the journey from New York to Washington, +from Washington to St. Louis, and from +St. Louis to Jefferson, Saunders had ventured several +questions from time to time, but William Dow +was non-committal. The only information which +he gave Ada’s former lover was that they should +stop at Jefferson City. The worthy merchant +sighed twice as often after their arrival in the +first place, because he liked his ease and the journey +had fatigued him extremely, and next, because +he hoped his friend Dow would not delay much +longer in telling him the object of his journey. +Therefore, he questioned him.</p> + +<p>“Dear sir,” answered our hero, “I needed to +have two aids and two witnesses with me in what +I am undertaking. You and Young, of all others, +were most suitable, because of your honorable +character and energy.”</p> + +<p>Flattered by this praise, to his share of which +he was entitled, Saunders smilingly said:</p> + +<p>“No doubt; but aids in what way—witnesses of +what?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know yet, as everything will depend +on circumstances. We have reached only the first +stopping-place in our journey.”</p> + +<p>“The first. Where are we going, then?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you now.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose, however, that we shall not make +the tour of the world?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! not quite.”</p> + +<p>“What, not quite; but I do not wish to make +even a part of it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span></p> + +<p>The stout man said this with so disturbed a face +and with such a comical accent of fear that +William Dow, who was always grave, could not +help smiling as he answered:</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself; after to-morrow you will beg +me not to interrupt our journey. Let us dine.”</p> + +<p>Somewhat reassured, but not convinced, Saunders +then decided to go to dinner, and did such +justice to it that two hours afterwards he went to +his bed and instantly forgot that he was three hundred +miles from New York, trying to solve a problem +to which he had not the least clue.</p> + +<p>The next morning after an excellent night, and +as he was about to join Dow and Young, they were +announced by one of the hotel servants, and ascended +to his room. Before they had closed the +door the Yankee thought he saw half a dozen individuals +who had stopped in the hall following +his companions. He went to inquire what they +wanted, but he had not time, for William Dow +immediately said to him, clasping his hand:</p> + +<p>“Dear sir, will you allow us to receive some +visitors in your room?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” answered the cracker-merchant, +who had wisely decided to ask no explanation of +his mysterious friend. The latter had seated himself +at a table and drawn a large packet from his +pocket, in which were papers and photographs.</p> + +<p>“Are you acquainted with this man,” he asked +Saunders, handing him one of the pictures.</p> + +<p>“No,” said the merchant, after a moment’s examination.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p> + +<p>“And you, my good Young?”</p> + +<p>“Why!” cried the chief of detectives, “it is +James Gobson.”</p> + +<p>“His very self, Miss Ada’s husband.”</p> + +<p>He snatched the photograph from the hands of +the detective, and with furious looks devoured the +man whom his jealousy pictured at the feet of the +woman.</p> + +<p>“Captain,” cried William Dow, “do me the kindness +to introduce each of the men who are there +in the hall. Begin with Thomas Bernett.”</p> + +<p>“Thomas Bernett,” called Young, in his grandest, +most commanding tone, as he opened the door.</p> + +<p>The man who bore this name hastened to appear. +It was the porter of the Union Hotel.</p> + +<p>“Were you in this establishment January last?” +asked Dow.</p> + +<p>“I have been interpreter and porter here for a +year.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have to do with all the travelers?”</p> + +<p>“With all.”</p> + +<p>“Do you remember this one?”</p> + +<p>He showed him James Gobson’s photograph.</p> + +<p>“Perfectly,” he affirmed; “as well as I can +recollect I saw this gentleman in the first days of +January. He remained here three or four days.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks. The next, Tom Byng.” Tom Byng +was the hotel stage-driver. He as well as his comrade, +immediately recognized Gobson in the photograph, +as a traveler whom he had driven to the +Northern depot early in January. Then came the +butler, the steward, the barber of the hotel, and a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>gunsmith, who all recognized in James Gobson’s +picture the features of an individual with whom +they had had various relations at the time about +which they were questioned.</p> + +<p>“My dear Mr. Saunders,” said the detective, after +making a note of this information, “do me the +kindness to give ten dollars to each of these men.”</p> + +<p>Without venturing a remark, the cracker-merchant +paid the sum and waited patiently until his +fifty dollars had departed, to have a clue to the +puzzle.</p> + +<p>“You do not understand?” asked William Dow.</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered frankly.</p> + +<p>“Nor you, Young?”</p> + +<p>“Not any,” said the captain with a smile, which +he tried to render mocking.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear friends, I ask you only to exactly +recall the words you have just heard. James Gobson +was here at Jefferson City in the beginning +of January, a few days before Miss Ada was carried +off and the discovery of this drowned woman, whose +name is still unknown. From that city the same +person set out for Omaha; the stage-driver remembers +it perfectly.”</p> + +<p>“From which you conclude,” ventured the sceptical +Young.</p> + +<p>“I do not conclude, I state; and this first point +being assured, I have decided to leave for Omaha.”</p> + +<p>“For Omaha!” cried Saunders.</p> + +<p>“Where, I hope, we shall find some trail more interesting +still. The train leaves at noon; we shall +reach there early to-morrow.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> + +<p>While saying this, William Dow had carefully put +James Gobson’s picture back in his pocket-book and +had arisen. Mr. Saunders, having no objections to +make, looked at the captain, and the latter shrugged +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>Not understanding his friend’s plans, the terrible +but not very intelligent chief of detectives thought +it wisest to affect a kind of ironical condescension +toward him; but as he obeyed no less blindly than +Saunders, they all three took the cars after breakfast.</p> + +<p>The next morning they reached Omaha, the last +stopping-place at that time for the cars, which soon +went to the West, across the desert and the Rocky +Mountains to San Francisco.</p> + +<p>When Saunders was left alone by William Dow, +under the piazza of the hotel at Omaha, he was asking +himself what his friend had come to seek in this +forsaken country, when he espied him crossing the +garden of the establishment in company with Young +and another strangely-accoutred being. One would +have thought it one of Fenimore Cooper’s or Captain +Mayne Reid’s heroes. He wore strong boots, into +which were tucked brown ribbed velvet breeches, +fastened by a broad leather belt, which seemed to be +his arsenal and money-safe, for it was adorned by +two revolvers and a long knife, and its thickness revealed +the presence of a respectable quantity of +change. His partly-opened hunting-jacket showed +a red woolen shirt and his hairy bosom. He had on +a soft felt hat with broad brim, and proudly carried +in a shoulder strap a double-shot carbine. As well +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span>as his thick tawny beard enabled one to judge, the +man must be about forty years old. His energy and +vigor were plainly evident in his looks, voice, and +broad shoulders.</p> + +<p>While the cracker-merchant was examining him, +the stranger, still talking to his companions, had +reached the piazza.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Saunders,” said the detective, when the +two men joined him, “allow me to present to you +John Butler, the bravest trapper on the shores of +the Missouri.”</p> + +<p>The good man rose politely from the lolling-chair +on which he had been stretched out, and gave Mr +Dow so questioning a look that the latter knew +that he was imploring an explanation. Therefore, +beckoning the trapper and Young to sit down, and +taking a chair himself, he said:</p> + +<p>“This is a nice place for a chat. Mr. Butler, +dear sir, knows better than even an Indian all the +tribes who occupy the reserves to the north of +Omaha, and the chiefs of the Dakota Sioux are +his particular friends. As it is with these worthy +men that we have to do, I have begged him to serve +as a guide.”</p> + +<p>Saunders, who had again stretched himself out in +his arm-chair, sprang out of it in alarm.</p> + +<p>“To the Sioux!” he repeated. And, with a very +expressive gesture, he described around his head the +circular motion in the operation of scalping.</p> + +<p>“Have no fear, sir,” said John Butler, smiling. +“With me there is no danger of that kind to +run.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p> + +<p>The peaceful Yankee, who looked with eyes of +terror at the murderous outfit of the trapper, +seemed so plainly to say that it was not the Indians +alone of whom he was afraid, that Captain Young +himself burst out laughing. John Butler, without +being offended at his suspicions, resumed with the +same calmness:</p> + +<p>“No, sir; you will have nothing to dread; we +are at this moment at peace with the Indians of +the plains. The chiefs who went to Washington +in January have returned satisfied; one can cross +Dakota and Iowa without the shadow of danger.”</p> + +<p>“You hear, do you not, dear Mr. Saunders,” observed +Dow, “the chiefs who went to Washington +in the month of January? Retain these words in +your memory—in the month of January.”</p> + +<p>“The devil, yes. I hear well enough,” answered +Miss Ada’s former lover, “but I do not understand +what you are going to do among the Sioux.”</p> + +<p>“That is my secret. Do you refuse to accompany +me?”</p> + +<p>“Heavens, no. You would say I was afraid. But +if I understand a confounded word what it all +means, I am willing to be hung some day.”</p> + +<p>“You are not the one who will be hung.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not. But who will be?”</p> + +<p>“James Gobson.”</p> + +<p>“James Gobson! Then Miss Ada will be free +again. Do you know, I am certain that it was terror +alone that united her to that wretch! James Gobson +hung! But why, in order to bring this about, +must we go among the Indians?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> + +<p>“Because there the rope which I destine for him +will be found.”</p> + +<p>“Stop; I prefer not to question you any more, +for you will answer me in a manner to make me +lose my head again. Well, so be it. Let’s be off +for the prairie. Ah! if ever any one had told me +that I should become a trapper! When shall we +start?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow, at daybreak,” answered Butler, to +whom this question was particularly addressed. +“The cars will leave us at Sioux City the same +evening. We shall find horses there, and in a few +hours we shall be on the reserves.”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow, then,” said Saunders, with a heroic +gesture.</p> + +<p>“To-morrow, gentlemen,” repeated the trapper, +“I will wake you.” And throwing his carbine over +his shoulder he bowed to his future companions and +left the piazza.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Dow,” said Mr. Saunders, pointing to the +adventurer who was crossing the garden, “can you +depend upon that fellow?”</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” answered the detective, “I +have made every inquiry about Butler. He has +been traveling over this prairie ten years, hunting +and trading, often serving as an intermediary between +the commanders of forts and the Indians, +and never has any one had to complain of him. +Besides, what interest would it be to him to betray +us? I shall give him one hundred dollars to-morrow +when we arrive at Sioux City, one hundred dollars +more when we return, and even another hundred +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span>dollars still if the information he furnishes me is +correct and if I bring back what I am going to seek. +Besides, as everything makes me suppose that Butler +has some peccadillo on his conscience which has led +him to this adventurous life, I have promised to arrange +matters for him on my return to New York. +He has my word and that of Young.”</p> + +<p>“Positively,” answered the captain. “But what +need have we of all these precautions? Are we three +not equal to all the adventurers and Indians on the +plains?”</p> + +<p>This proud declaration of the intrepid captain cut +short any last words which poor Saunders would +have liked to venture. Putting a good face on a +bad matter, he stood up straight and said to the +chief of detectives, in a deliberate tone:</p> + +<p>“Very well; I still do not understand why we are +going in that direction, but I am with you; when I +see Miss Ada again, I wish her to know what I have +done for her.”</p> + +<p>The next day the three travelers, accompanied by +John Butler, took the first train, and reached in a +few hours Sioux City, one of the railway stations +which unites Omaha with Chicago. After passing +the night there, the following day at sunrise they +left it to take the route along the Sioux River as far +as Fort Dakota. William Dow had a letter of +recommendation to the commander of this advanced +post.</p> + +<p>The four excursionists mounted excellent horses, +and Saunders looked superb in his war-like attire. +Imitating the trapper, he had made a veritable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span>arsenal of his belt, and he often looked affectionately +at the carbine attached to his saddle. One would +have thought he was setting out for the conquest of +an enemy’s territory. But toward the middle of +the morning, as the sun became higher and burning, +his fine ardor began to decrease, and Dow regulated +it by saying:</p> + +<p>“If we keep up this gait our horses will be +foundered before we have gone our twenty-five +miles.”</p> + +<p>“Besides,” observed Butler, “we cannot reach +the fort to-day. The wisest thing is not to hurry, +but to favor our horses. We shall have need enough +of them on the prairie.”</p> + +<p>These few words restored the good city man to +calmness, and the little party pursued their course +at a more moderate gait. Toward noon they had +halted on the banks of the river in the shade of +some sickly-looking trees, and Saunders ate with a +very good appetite his share of the provisions with +which the trapper had not failed to provide himself; +then, after a few hours’ rest, our travelers started +on their way again.</p> + +<p>That evening they enjoyed, by means of their +dollars, the hospitality of a German farm, and the +next day, after fording one of the arms of the Sioux +River, they finally reached Fort Dakota.</p> + +<p>Captain Semmas, who commanded this military +position, received William Dow with marvelous +cordiality, and as the fort was admirably provisioned, +Saunders, whom the length of the route +had somewhat sobered, immediately recovered his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>warlike mood. The next morning, he had already +been equipped for a long time, when Butler gave +the signal for departure. An hour later, after pushing +on straight to the north, our heroes were on the +prairie. They now had for the horizon around +them an immense plain without an undulation +in the ground, of a dull green coloring, and gloomy +enough to drive one to despair.</p> + +<p>Only a few bushes broke the monotony here and +there, rising above the thick grass, in which the +horses sank to their knees. Disdaining in spite +of the fog the paths made by the cattle, the trapper +had led his companions across the plain, having for +his guide in this complete desert only landmarks +known to himself alone.</p> + +<p>“Master John,” cried Saunders all at once, after +having kept silence as well as his impatience would +permit, “have we much more of this foolish ride?”</p> + +<p>“Two hours, at least,” answered Butler, who +was preceding him; “and I advise you to keep in +my tracks, for if you go to one side or the other +you might meet with some bog, in which you and +your horse would disappear.”</p> + +<p>“My God!” cried the poor man, frightened at +this new danger which he had been running without +knowing it ever since he entered the prairie. +“You ought to have warned me sooner.”</p> + +<p>“Come, be calm, dear Mr. Saunders,” advised +William Dow. “Listen to the counsels of this +excellent fellow, and take the captain and me for +your models.”</p> + +<p>“This excellent fellow! That is very well for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span>you to say, Mr. Dow, for you know where you are +going; you have your plan, but I don’t know anything +about it. As for Mr. Young, it is in his profession +to risk his skin, but it is not in mine.”</p> + +<p>We do not know that the chief of detectives held +this opinion, for the journey did not make him +any more talkative than usual. Trimly seated in +his saddle, with a cigar in his mouth, he concerned +himself neither about his companions nor the +route, nor the end of the excursion. Mr. Kelly +had told him: “You will accompany Mr. William +Dow,” and he accompanied William Dow. He +would have accompanied him in the same way as +far as the Pacific. The captain, therefore, did not +answer the irascible cracker-merchant.</p> + +<p>However, at the end of an hour the appearance +of the prairie gradually changed. The grass was +less thick, and the riders could distinguish before +them a group of tall trees, which were like an +oasis in the midst of this desert of grass. Soon +they perceived cultivated fields, cattle, and every +sign, in short, of a village not far away, probably, +behind a little hill about a hundred yards off.</p> + +<p>Saunders’ face became joyful again, and he was +already dashing on when Butler stopped him +brusquely. A man who had sprung up from the +tall grass with a carbine on his shoulder seemed +to wish to prevent the travelers from going further.</p> + +<p>At this threatening apparition, the prudent merchant +suddenly remembered that the trapper had +advised him to follow in his traces, and he fell into +file again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> + +<p>Butler sprang to the ground, and approached the +Indian, who was only one of those sentinels by +whom the Sioux villages are surrounded within a +large circle, and he said a few words to him which +caused him to immediately change his attitude. +Putting back his weapon, he held out his hand to +the adventurer.</p> + +<p>The latter then mounted his horse, and the little +band, escorted by the Sioux, went at a walk +through the fields of maize toward the village, +whose first tents they soon saw.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII"> + CHAPTER XVII. + <br><span class="small"> + A SOUVENIR OF LOVE. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Saunders had heard much about these Indian +villages composed of tents made of buffalo skins, +and he was not quite ignorant that there still existed +nomadic tribes whom civilization drove into +the desert; but all this had interested him but +little, and now he, a peaceful merchant, a positive +man of a practical mind, found himself transported +into the midst of this strange world. Therefore, he +examined with as much amazement as curiosity +these primitive dwellings and strangely accoutred +beings who were grouped together, thirty in number +at least, before their tents, to receive the travelers. +The latter alighted and advanced toward the Sioux. +Butler, who walked ahead, approached the chief +and made a little speech, which seemed to meet with +general approbation. The Sioux answered him in a +few guttural words, and the trapper, turning to his +companions, said to them:</p> + +<p>“Jimin, the Swift Deer, the chief of this village, +gives a welcome to his brothers from the East—the +pale-faces—and offers them hospitality beneath +his tent.”</p> + +<p>Then Butler added, ceasing to translate the words +of the Sioux, but using his own language:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span></p> + +<p>“I told Jimin that you were rich fur-merchants +intending to open a shop at Omaha, and that your +only object in coming to the prairie is to establish +direct communication with its tribes in order to buy +their skins on more favorable terms than those of +the agents of the companies.”</p> + +<p>“That is very ingenious,” answered William Dow.</p> + +<p>“Good! I am now a fur-trader,” murmured +Saunders.</p> + +<p>As for Young, his bravery was humiliated at this +new social situation, and without departing from +his accustomed speechlessness, he protested by +twisting his long moustache with a gesture more +warlike than ever.</p> + +<p>However, the presentation being over, the excursionists +proceeded to the tent of the chief through +the entire population of the village—men, women, +and children—who thronged curiously around +them.</p> + +<p>Jimin’s tent resembled all the others excepting +that it was a little larger. It was made of buffalo +skins, rudely sewn together, and divided into two +parts; one was occupied by the family of the chief, +the other was intended for official receptions, when +Jimin wanted his warriors in council. It was in +the second part of the tent that the warriors were introduced.</p> + +<p>Stout mats of braided maize carpeted the floor; +the walls were adorned with weapons and fishing +tackle; the only seats were boxes and piles of skins +so badly dressed that they exhaled a detestable +odor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span></p> + +<p>Saunders, like his companions, had to make the +best of these primitive lounges; he sat down, or +rather threw himself down, on one of them; milk +and maize cakes were at once served, then the chief +lighted his long pipe, and after smoking in silence +for a full quarter of an hour, he entered into conversation +with Butler, which the latter, in a measure, +translated.</p> + +<p>Jimin inquired about the disposition of the government +towards the Indians, about the price of +provisions, and he bitterly complained of the agents +of the great fur companies, who in exchange for the +hunting products of the Indians gave them only +worthless gunpowder, wretched weapons, adulterated +brandy, and execrable tobacco.</p> + +<p>The trapper assured him, in the names of his +friends, that his just grievances should be conveyed +to the President of the United States, who would +not fail to inquire into it, and he advised him to go +himself to Washington to make out his complaints.</p> + +<p>“Of what use would that be?” resumed Jimin, +shaking his head, sadly. “Our brothers, the pale-faces, +promise, but forget their promises. Four +moons ago I went with ten of my warriors to +Washington; they swore to us that our claims +should be made right, but nothing has been changed. +The Great Father forsakes his children.”</p> + +<p>“Ask him,” said William Dow to Butler, having +listened attentively to every word of the chief, “if +he did not return full of wonder at the splendor of +our cities?”</p> + +<p>“The Indian,” answered Jimin, “sees nothing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span>when he goes to your cities; his eyes, like his +heart, bound over space to find his wigwam and +prairies again. I should not have remained more +than one day at Washington if I had not been +waiting for two of my warriors who had wandered +away.”</p> + +<p>“Which ones?” asked Butler, at the detective’s +entreaty.</p> + +<p>“Washah and Winka,” said the chief, pointing +to the two Sioux crouched at his right. “One of +your people, whose wife had been carried off, asked +them for the help of their arms. He knew that the +Indian, oppressed himself, is always at the service +of him who suffers. The pale-face was not ungrateful, +and with the gold he gave to Washah and +Winka they bought weapons superior to those the +agents sell us so dear.”</p> + +<p>Each of the two warriors, in fact, had a solid +double-barreled carbine by his side.</p> + +<p>As the trapper translated Jimin’s last words, +William Dow’s face expressed a more and more +lively satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“Dear sir,” he said, addressing Saunders when the +interpreter had finished, and pointing to the two +Sioux, whose eyes shone with pride, “do you not +recognize two of your guests?”</p> + +<p>“Hey, what?” answered the merchant, whom +fatigue, the smoke, the odor of the skins, and +especially the indifference he felt in the conversation +had half lulled to sleep.</p> + +<p>“Those two Indians there at the right of the +chief.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes; well, what of them?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you recognize them?”</p> + +<p>“Where the devil do you suppose I have ever +seen those monkeys?”</p> + +<p>“At Miss Ada Ricard’s.”</p> + +<p>“At Ada’s! Come, now, dear Mr. Dow, ah, +ha!”</p> + +<p>Poor Saunders’ exclamation expressing that he was +beginning to understand, his friend took pity on his +brain, already so shattered, and continued:</p> + +<p>“Yes, at Miss Ada Ricard’s, at the ball. Those +Indians are two of the three masks who carried her +off.”</p> + +<p>“But the third?”</p> + +<p>“He was her husband.”</p> + +<p>“James Gobson?”</p> + +<p>“His very self; there is no doubt of it.”</p> + +<p>“The man who carried her off took her to Colonel +Forster; it cannot be her husband, for he would +have kept her for himself.”</p> + +<p>“You go too fast; we shall come to that later. +Meanwhile do you wish to assure yourself in regard +to the part those two men played that famous +night?”</p> + +<p>“I believe I do; but tell me quietly, for I swear +to you I do not see through it at all.”</p> + +<p>The good man, indeed, holding his head in his +hands, looked imploringly with his great eyes at +Captain Young, who, feeling very much interested +in this unexpected scene, did not take his eyes off of +William Dow.</p> + +<p>“Your two valiant warriors,” said the latter to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span>Jimin, through the medium of Butler, “have this +day rendered a great service to one of my friends. +Knowing that I was coming to the reserves, he +charged me to thank them again. Do they remember +his features?”</p> + +<p>“The Indian never forgets the man from whom +he receives a benefit,” answered the chief, sententiously.</p> + +<p>The two Sioux, by way of affirmation, clicked +their carbines.</p> + +<p>The detective had taken from his pocket-book +the photograph of James Gobson, which he handed +to Jimin, who passed it on to his warriors.</p> + +<p>The latter immediately exclaimed: “Yes, it is +really the pale-face whose wife we helped carry +away from an infamous man.”</p> + +<p>At this epithet, which Saunders had to take to +himself, he looked so completely astounded that his +two companions and Butler himself could hardly +keep serious.</p> + +<p>Dow, who had put the picture of Miss Ada’s +husband back in his pocket, arose, and after saying +to Jimin that they thanked him for his hospitality, +but that they could not enjoy it any longer, as they +wished to return to Fort Dakota that evening, +he begged him to accept as a souvenir one of his revolvers.</p> + +<p>The chief took the weapon which his guest held +out, and not being able to conceal the pleasure +which the gift caused him, he thanked him in a +rigmarole of metaphors, quite worthy of the Indian +of the prairies.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p> + +<p>“Look there behind you,” just then said Captain +Young to William Dow, “on the arm of that +young girl.”</p> + +<p>He pointed to quite a pretty Indian, crouching +with both hands on her knees. On her left wrist +shone a large gold bracelet.</p> + +<p>“Is it the wife or daughter of either of you?” the +detective asked Washah and Winka.</p> + +<p>“It is my wife,” answered the latter.</p> + +<p>“Will you allow me to look at the gold bracelet +she wears on her arm?”</p> + +<p>Visibly embarrassed, the warrior spoke a few +words, and the Indian woman, raising her great +black eyes to the stranger, allowed him to take her +hand.</p> + +<p>“Look, Mr. Saunders,” said William, showing him +the bracelet; “see if you do not recognize this.”</p> + +<p>The stout man leaned over the young woman and +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Why, it is one of Miss Ada’s bracelets; I gave it +to her. I offered her two alike. They came from +Jefferie Muller’s. Our initials, twined together, are +engraved on the inside.”</p> + +<p>The tender Yankee was quite touched at the sight +of this pledge of his love to the woman.</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose that she would like to sell it to +me?” he ventured with a sigh.</p> + +<p>Butler conveyed this proposal to the Indian woman, +who immediately drew back her hand.</p> + +<p>“It was the wife of the pale-face who gave me +that gold bracelet,” said the Sioux; “I gave it to +Makeni; it belongs to her.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span></p> + +<p>“More likely that man stole it from Miss Ada,” +answered Young, when the trapper translated the +warrior’s answer.</p> + +<p>“The wife of the pale-face is dead,” said William +Dow, “and he would be very happy if we should +bring back from the prairie this souvenir of his +companion. I offer you for it twenty pounds of +powder, thirty of tobacco, and twenty-five bottles +of brandy. You will come with us to the fort, and +it will be given to you. Besides, in the name of the +Great Spirit, I promise to send to Makeni by Butler +on his next visit to the reserves a bracelet even +heavier than that.”</p> + +<p>It was a bargain in gold which the detective +offered the Sioux warrior, so he hastened to accept +it. At his order, the young Indian girl, with tears, +slipped the jewel from her bronze arm. Saunders +seized and opened it and showed to Dow, engraved +inside, two initials lovingly entwined, and +the date of the day he had made this present +to Miss Ada. While he stood with his eyes fixed +on these initials and date, which awoke memories +so varied, his face expressed so much anger, mingled +with love, that Young, unable to hold in any +longer, burst out laughing, to the amazement of the +Indians. But William Dow, to whom everything +was serious, preserved his gravity, and said to +Saunders:</p> + +<p>“Trust me with this bracelet, I will return it +before long.”</p> + +<p>Without a word, but not without a sigh of regret, +the good man handed the jewel to the detective, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span>who immediately gave the signal for departure.</p> + +<p>It had been decided that Washah and Winka +should accompany the strangers as far as Fort +Dakota, in order to receive the promised articles.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later all were in the saddle, and +our travelers, after shaking hands with Jimin and +saluting the village with a discharge from their +carbines, set off again across the prairie.</p> + +<p>Mounted on excellent little horses, the two Sioux +warriors escorted them on their flanks. In two +hours the little band traveled the distance which +separates the reserve from the American post.</p> + +<p>Night began to fall, and Saunders, overcome +with fatigue, did not ask the detective a single +question that evening, but the next morning, when +the latter came to announce that they must start +again, he thought he would ask for an explanation +of several things.</p> + +<p>“My dear sir,” answered our mysterious hero, +“we will talk about all this at Sioux City, where +we shall part. Meanwhile, believe me, we have +not made a useless trip across the prairie. I have +brought back, as I hoped, an end of the rope by +which James Gobson will be hung.”</p> + +<p>Without insisting further, Willie Saunders mounted +his horse, and the four travelers left Fort Dakota. +Forty-eight hours later they re-entered Sioux City.</p> + +<p>“Here,” said William Dow to his companions, +the next day after breakfast, “we part; we have +completed all that we had to do together; you are +now free.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p> + +<p>Then he added, addressing the trapper: “As for +you, Butler, your help has been valuable to me, +and here is the hundred dollars I promised to give +you on our return from our expedition; and, in +addition, here is an extra hundred dollars, for I +have really brought back from the Indians all that +I went to find. Mr. Saunders will not forget to +give you at the Union Hotel, in Jefferson, the +bracelet intended for Winka’s wife.”</p> + +<p>Miss Ada’s former lover confirmed the detective’s +promise, and the trapper, who had slipped the +two hundred dollars into his belt, shook hands with +the three friends and left them.</p> + +<p>“Then,” Saunders asked William, “you are not +to return with us to New York?”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered the latter; “I am going to the +opposite coast—to San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“To San Francisco?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is there I expect to find the rest of the +rope which I intend for James Gobson. You will +soon hear from me, in a month at the latest, but +promise me, at my first despatch, to come and join +me.”</p> + +<p>“If it is not too far.”</p> + +<p>“You will have only a few hours on the railroad.”</p> + +<p>“Now, before separating, let us talk more about +this matter.”</p> + +<p>“I confess that I ask nothing better. It is time +that I understood a little, and I am sure the captain +is of my opinion.”</p> + +<p>Young, who sat smoking his cigar, with his chair +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>tipped back and his feet on the table, nodded assent, +and Dow continued:</p> + +<p>“We gained at Jefferson City the certainty that +James Gobson was there several days before Miss +Ada was carried off; and, among the Sioux, that it +was really he who performed the kidnapping.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is indisputable,” said Saunders, “and it +proves that if that man is a wretch, his former +wife is not much better than he, for after letting +her former husband give her up, she not only +saved the scamp from the gallows, but pardoned +him besides.”</p> + +<p>“Even more than that, dear sir, she has become +again his lawful wife.”</p> + +<p>“His lawful wife! Gobson has married Ada?”</p> + +<p>“By a second marriage since they were divorced.”</p> + +<p>“The wretches!”</p> + +<p>Poor Willie Saunders could say no more. Loving +still, he retained the hope of meeting Miss +Ada again, and here was a new barrier raised +between her and himself.</p> + +<p>“But, my dear Dow,” observed Young, speaking +in his turn; “how in the devil can this testimony +we have just received serve you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; how?” murmured Saunders.</p> + +<p>“This Gobson,” resumed the captain, “carried +off a woman, whether she did or did not belong to +him matters little; then this woman, forgiving the +abuse she had formerly received, accepted his +name a second time. It is odious, but the law has +no power in such a matter. It was neither a +crime nor an offence, and, what is most curious, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span>even if it were a crime or offence, James Gobson +would not be disturbed, since the court revised +his case and acquitted him.”</p> + +<p>It was weeks, and perhaps months, since the +captain had indulged in so long a speech and had +reasoned with so much logic. He was astonished +himself, and waited for the answer of his friend +Dow with the air of a conqueror.</p> + +<p>“My dear Young,” said the latter, “you talk of +guilt. James Gobson was acquitted by the jury, +it is true, but he has not been acquitted by William +Dow, and William Dow is keeping for him as well +as for you, a surprise. Ask me no more; return to +New York and hold yourself ready to join me when +I send you word.”</p> + +<p>The captain and Saunders knew their friend too +well to address any more questions, and the travelers +separated after this conversation. A few +hours later Young and Saunders took the cars at +Sioux City for New York, going east, while the detective, +returning over the route already traveled, +went in the direction of the West.</p> + +<p>The next day, when Saunders, delighted at enjoying +his ease again, was having an excellent dinner +with the captain in the luxurious dining-room at the +Sherman House, in Chicago, William Dow was on +the train to Omaha, which he was to leave at Benton, +in Wyoming Territory.</p> + +<p>Ten days after his departure from Benton, when, +perhaps, Young and Saunders were no longer thinking +of him, he arrived at San Francisco.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"> + CHAPTER XVIII. + <br><span class="small"> + TWO VILLAS AT JAMAICA PLAIN. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>As William Dow had informed Mr. Kelly, it was +really in Boston that James Gobson had located +himself, after leaving New York, to avoid the rude +and annoying curiosity of the latter city. But the +rumor of the legal error of which he had nearly +been the victim, had so quickly preceded him to the +capital of Massachusetts, that a week after his +arrival, when he married Miss Ada Ricard, his +divorced wife, the Democrats offered him a banquet +and received him with applause at Barker’s, the +fashionable club rendezvous.</p> + +<p>Imitating the custom of retired and wealthy merchants, +Gobson did not reside in the city proper, but +lived about five miles out, at Jamaica Plain, in a +pretty villa, which was converted into a sumptuous +dwelling by Miss Ada’s taste.</p> + +<p>The re-married couple lived in comfort under the +same roof, but almost apart, which would have +greatly calmed the jealousy of the unhappy Saunders +if he had known of it.</p> + +<p>The young woman occupied a charming apartment +on the first floor, composed of a large parlor, +a boudoir, sleeping-room, and dressing-room. The +door of the latter room was at the head of the bed, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span>hidden by a blue silk portiere. The room was +entirely hung with the same material. James +Gobson never set foot in this part of the house, for +once installed and received among the high-livers of +Boston, he resumed his former life and vices. Forgetting +what his habits of drinking, play, and his +brutal ways had cost him, from his divorce to the +suspicions which had led him to the foot of the +gallows, he had fallen into the same excesses. He +passed his days at the races, and his evenings at +Barker’s, and nine times out of ten he was intoxicated +when he went home in the middle of the night. +Mrs. Gobson then had everything to fear from her +husband’s anger, and her fear must have been extreme, +for she never dared answer when he swore at +her, nor refuse him the money squandered.</p> + +<p>If Saunders could have witnessed one of these +scenes, he certainly would not have recognized the +beautiful, capricious woman, so whimsical and self-willed, +who formerly ruled him. This life was +doubly hard for the former Miss Ada, for she no +longer had Mary with her, for Gobson, after generously +rewarding the girl, had dismissed her, and +then replaced her by a servant in whom he inspired +as much fear as in his wife.</p> + +<p>The other servants in this gloomy household were +a cook and a gardener, who were not interested in +the conjugal quarrels of the couple, and who besides +rarely witnessed them, since they took place very +late, when, their work being over, they had retired +to their own quarters.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gobson then lived in absolute solitude with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>the exception of her seamstress, her dress-maker, and +a few tradespeople she was acquainted with, and received +no one, and that this isolation was mournful +to her was plainly shown in her face.</p> + +<p>She was still beautiful, but her complexion had +grown pale and her eyes hollow. Her whole countenance +expressed sorrow, lassitude and discouragement.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, however, when her husband went in +town after committing some rude or violent act, her +eyes would flash lightning and her lips contract in a +menacing smile. In such moments a leaven of rebellion +and vengeance seemed to rise within her. +But it lasted only an instant; some secret and terrible +thought passed through her mind, and with a +shudder she burst into sobs. What still further increased +the martyrdom of the pretty, forsaken +woman, and what rendered her life more horrible +and her isolation more cruel, was the sight that met +her eyes when, concealed behind the curtains of her +sleeping-room, she looked into the park of the next +house.</p> + +<p>There all was calm, happy, and pure. This house +was inhabited by a distinguished-looking man about +forty years old, of a particularly intelligent face, and +by a young girl nearly sixteen, of a bewitching, +gentle beauty, who had a middle-aged governess or +teacher with her. The forsaken Mrs. Gobson supposed +it was the home of a couple in their honeymoon, +and her heart, she could not tell why, was +saddened; but, on inquiring, she learned that her +neighbor was named Charles Murray, and that the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span>young person called Jane was his daughter or ward, +and she felt an unhoped-for relief. From that moment +she continued her curious watching without +the unconscious jealousy she at first had felt, and +she soon learned by the despotism with which her +thoughts reverted to Charles Murray, that she +loved the stranger whom chance had brought so +near her.</p> + +<p>She soon made her neighbor aware of the attention +of which he was the object, and he was evidently +as much flattered as touched, for in less than +a fortnight after the first looks exchanged, Mrs. +Gobson read with deep emotion these two lines +which she found in a bunch of roses, thrown to her +over the garden-wall:</p> + +<p>“You are adorably beautiful, and I love you. +How can I speak with you?”</p> + +<p>Her husband had just left for his club, where he +was going to dine, and, according to his custom, +pass the evening and a part of the night. Mrs. +Gobson went up to her room, where from her window +she saw her neighbor, who, pretending to +be absorbed in reading a newspaper, was watching +her.</p> + +<p>She immediately wrote a few words, slipped them +in an envelope, in which she placed a dollar to +give it the necessary weight, and tossed it so skilfully +that the loving projectile fell at Charles Murray’s +feet.</p> + +<p>He picked it up, and read:</p> + +<p>“At eight o’clock this evening, at the end of the +avenue.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span></p> + +<p>He gave her a look of thanks which made her +blush with happiness, and returned home.</p> + +<p>Charles Murray had given Miss Jane the first floor +of his villa, but he had reserved for himself two +rooms on the ground-floor which had a private entrance. +The first of these rooms was a sleeping-room, +the second a study, the door of which was +always carefully locked, and no one, not even the +servants, ever entered it.</p> + +<p>Murray, who was interested in science, had, they +said, dangerous materials and fragile apparatuses +which he wished to protect from curious eyes or +from being handled. When he established himself +at Jamaica Plain, he alone received and opened the +boxes which contained them. His orders were +strictly obeyed. When her friend or guardian was +at home and she wished to see him, Miss Jane herself +did not cross the threshold of this mysterious +apartment—she called to him from outside.</p> + +<p>It was to this study that Murray proceeded when +he left Mrs. Gobson, and if the latter had followed +him she would have been strangely surprised; for, +instead of covering her note with loving kisses, as +she perhaps fancied, her neighbor, when once at +home, took a voluminous package of papers from +his desk, drew out one crumpled letter, and, comparing +it with that from Mr. Gobson’s wife, +said:</p> + +<p>“It is, indeed, the same handwriting.”</p> + +<p>During this time Ada was plunged in her dreams +of love. When dinner was ready she seated herself +at table, but ate hardly anything. At eight o’clock, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span>taking the chance while her servants were busy in +the kitchen, she stole out of the house.</p> + +<p>It was beginning to grow dark, and the air was +warm and fragrant. She drew her mantle around +her and quickened her steps, and soon discovered, +under one of the tall trees in the avenue, the man +she was coming to meet.</p> + +<p>Murray, who had recognized her, quickly advanced +to meet her, and said in a low voice, full +of feeling:</p> + +<p>“Madam, forgive me for having dared to break +in upon your solitude.”</p> + +<p>“I forgive you, sir,” she answered, “by coming +here.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you—thank you with all my heart.”</p> + +<p>He offered her his arm, and she took it, saying:</p> + +<p>“You wrote me that you loved me, did you know +who I am?”</p> + +<p>“I might answer you no, but that would be unworthy +of you and me. Yes, I know who you are. +The name of your husband told me that you were +the heroine of that event which all New York was +talking about for two months.”</p> + +<p>“And was this why you have made me a declaration +of love?”</p> + +<p>She said this in a tone of pique, and withdrew her +arm from that of her escort.</p> + +<p>Understanding what was passing in her mind, +Charles Murray hastened to answer, gently replacing +her arm within his.</p> + +<p>“Oh! you do not believe it, madam; I love you +because you are lovely, and I judged you were unhappy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>because you are beautiful, and my heart, +void of affection, went out to you.”</p> + +<p>“Is all this really the truth?”</p> + +<p>Ada, wishing to be convinced, smiled.</p> + +<p>“Really the truth,” repeated Murray, tenderly +pressing the little hand she had let him take.</p> + +<p>“But the foolishness of this love; I am married.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you marry a second time a man of +whom you had so much to complain?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, I don’t know. The peculiar situation in +which the law placed us. Weakness.”</p> + +<p>“Get a divorce a second time.”</p> + +<p>“Impossible.”</p> + +<p>“Impossible, why?”</p> + +<p>“Because, on the mere suspicion of such an intention +on my part, my husband would kill me. +You see, I came to meet you to warn you of the +danger to which you expose me. I have been able +to escape to-day; but to come out again in this +way would seem strange to my servants, for we +receive no one, and Mr. Gobson is not acquainted +with you.”</p> + +<p>“I can become acquainted with him.”</p> + +<p>“I think not; and I hope not, for your sake.”</p> + +<p>“But if it is the only way to see you, and talk +with you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is the only way. You love me, then?”</p> + +<p>“I have never met a more charming woman than +you. Give me a little hope and I will become your +husband’s friend in less than a week.”</p> + +<p>“Do so, and we will see. Meanwhile let me go; +my absence may be remarked.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span></p> + +<p>They retraced their steps, then separated a hundred +yards from their villas, not without pressing +hands and giving many promises.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Gobson reached the house, she went +at once to her room, where her first look was at her +mirror which gave her back a smile. The few moments +which she had just passed in a loving tete-a-tete +had restored all her beauty.</p> + +<p>Murray, after noiselessly closing the garden gate, +which he had left open when he went out, entered +his study. Absorbed in his thoughts, he had not +seen, two steps from the fence, hidden behind a +cluster of trees, a young girl watching him, no +doubt, for the emotion which overcame her at sight +of him was so great that she had to cover her face +to stifle a sob. It was this lovely child whose chaste +beauty awakening Mrs. Gobson’s jealousy, had, perhaps, +more than any other sentiment, awakened in +her heart the imperious desire to be loved.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX"> + CHAPTER XIX. + <br><span class="small"> + WHAT HAPPENED ON LEAVING BARKER’S. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>In less than a fortnight after his reception at +Barker’s, James Gobson became one of the most +constant attendants at the club. A great drinker +and gambler, he found adversaries equal to him, +who soon became intimate with him and who led +him without any difficulty into every excess. They +knew he was rich, and cared little how he made +his money. He was at every race, took part in +all the betting, and was invited to every entertainment, +and, like certain other high-livers of the +club, he finally took a room at Barker’s, in order +to have a bed ready for the days when drunkenness +did not permit him to go home, even if he were +carried there.</p> + +<p>Master Gobson thus led the gayest, most irregular +existence, while his wife remained alone in her +villa, at Jamaica Plain. It would have been a +real satisfaction to the inconsolable Saunders to +see how forsaken was the woman who, in order to +marry a second time, had repelled his love.</p> + +<p>Being very jolly, even when he was thoroughly +drunk, Ada Ricard’s husband took every joke in +good part, excepting those about his trial. He +did not like to be reminded of the critical days +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>which he had spent at the Tombs, and liked still +less to speak of the woman who bore his name. +When people expressed astonishment at never +seeing him with the beautiful Mrs. Gobson, who +had saved his life and given a true proof of love +in marrying him a second time, in spite of the past, +he answered evasively. If any one persisted he +grew pale and his eyes wore a look of hatred +people could not explain. But these questions were +not repeated. At the end of a month his pleasure +companions gave as little thought to his wife as if +she did not exist. James then became quite happy.</p> + +<p>Matters were like this at the time of the rendezvous +of Mrs. Gobson and Charles Murray. That +evening Gobson spent the night at his club, but +the next day he had to return home, for he had +emptied his pockets in gambling. Naturally, he +had expected reproaches, as usual on such occurrences, +but to his amazement Ada received him +charmingly.</p> + +<p>What to her henceforth were the follies and +absence of the man she was about to escape?</p> + +<p>But James cared too little for Mrs. Gobson to +question about this sudden change. Coldly sceptical, +and profoundly selfish, he accepted the effect +without seeking to trace it back to the cause.</p> + +<p>The couple passed the day in perfect harmony, +and toward five o’clock, when her husband, with his +pocket-book replenished, told her that he was going +to his club, Ada bade him a friendly good-by.</p> + +<p>Gobson wished particularly to dine at Barker’s +that evening, for they were going to receive a new +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>member into their club, and this ceremony was +always accompanied by a banquet at which the +most important members of the club did not fail +to be present.</p> + +<p>The newly elected member, Harris Burnett by +name, came to Boston with the warmest recommendations, +and preceded by the reputation of a +brave drinker. They presented James Gobson to +him, who sat on his right, and these two gentlemen, +with their wine-glasses in their hands, became so +well acquainted that when they arose from the +table, at ten o’clock, they were intimate boon companions. +From the dining-room they passed into +a parlor, but there, instead of taking a seat at the +gaming-table as Gobson invited him, Harris asked +to be excused a moment, under the pretext of going +to his hotel.</p> + +<p>In fact, he ran to it, for a man was waiting for +him on the door-step.</p> + +<p>It was Charles Murray.</p> + +<p>“Well,” asked the latter, “how are you getting +on?”</p> + +<p>“We have reached the most tender friendship,” +answered Harris Burnett, “only I do not think he +will leave Barker’s to-night. He is going to play, +and he is so drunk that he will probably fall asleep +at the club.”</p> + +<p>“So much the better; I am not ready, and that +assures us of his return to-morrow to Jamaica +Plain. But to-morrow he must not leave before +half-past twelve at night. Do not let him get too +drunk; keep him steady enough to get into a carriage +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span>which will stand two doors above Barker’s. +Above all, if he has a revolver take it away from +him, or what is better, unload it. The rest I will +take care of.”</p> + +<p>“How shall I notify you?”</p> + +<p>“I shall be here to-morrow at this hour. If any +unforeseen obstacle presents itself it will be the next +day.”</p> + +<p>Having received these strange instructions Burnett +returned to Barker’s, and Charles Murray, stepping +into the carriage waiting for him, drove to +Jamaica Plain.</p> + +<p>Things went on as he had predicted, James Gobson +played half the night and slept at his club.</p> + +<p>The next day his new friend came to see him; +they went together to the races. Then returned +to Barker’s for dinner, then at ten o’clock they +began to play with opponents who had been mentioned +to Harris as never keeping very late hours. +Therefore, toward midnight these gentlemen expressed +a desire to end the game, and James Gobson +who, while playing, had not ceased to drink, +prepared to leave.</p> + +<p>“Are you going home?” asked Burnett, who, at +the hour agreed, had absented himself a moment +to tell Charles Murray what had happened.</p> + +<p>“Upon my word I am,” answered James; “it is +forty-eight hours since I have set foot in it.”</p> + +<p>“Then let us go down together?”</p> + +<p>“Agreed.”</p> + +<p>They entered the vestibule, where Harris, not +being able to further carry out the orders he had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span>received, adroitly drew out the revolver in Gobson’s +pocket. Having done that, he took the arm of his +new friend, who reeled somewhat, and they went +out. The street was deserted.</p> + +<p>“My God,” murmured the drunken man, “no +carriage! I shall go back to the club; I have no +desire to go to Jamaica Plain by means of my own +legs; in fact, they would not take me there.”</p> + +<p>“Here is a carriage,” said Harris, laughing at his +friend’s pleasantry.</p> + +<p>He pointed out a cab, the driver of which was +evidently waiting for a passenger, for he drove his +horse toward the men approaching.</p> + +<p>Gobson tumbled into the carriage, shook the hand +of his new dinner companion energetically, stammered +out his address, and threw himself back in a +corner and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>The cab had been rolling on for three-quarters of +an hour, and was within a hundred yards of the +avenue where is the villa with which our readers are +already acquainted, when Gobson, who had fallen +asleep, suddenly awoke, hearing the oaths which his +autonedon was pouring out. The man had jumped +down from his box and was carefully examining one +of the wheels of his carriage.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” asked James, whom the +brief sleep had partly sobered.</p> + +<p>“One of the nuts has come off, and I cannot go +any farther,” answered the man.</p> + +<p>“Pooh! That is nothing,” said Gobson, jumping +out into the road; “I will go home on foot. Stop—here’s +your pay.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> + +<p>He gave a dollar to the driver, who thanked him, +and, while his passenger went whistling toward the +avenue, he turned his cab around, then leading +his horse by the bridle, took the road toward the +city.</p> + +<p>But five minutes later he quietly drew a nut from +his pocket, put it in place, jumped on his box, and +set off at a gallop.</p> + +<p>James, without suspecting the trick of which he +was a victim, had reached the avenue, where, owing +to the tall trees that bordered it, it was rather +dark. Suddenly, as he was going along the wall +of a wide park, two men sprang upon him, and so +quickly that he hardly had time to give a shout. +One of his assailants had seized him by the throat, +and the other was trying to throw him on the ground, +saying:</p> + +<p>“If you call, you are dead. Quick, your money +and your watch.”</p> + +<p>But Gobson was brave and strong. Holding with +one hand the arm of the thief who was threatening +him with his knife, and giving a vigorous bump +with his head on the face of the man who was +strangling him, he disengaged himself sufficiently +to be able to give a second cry for help.</p> + +<p>“Keep up, I am coming,” a voice immediately +answered, and he heard steps running toward him.</p> + +<p>At once understanding that their shot had missed, +the two robbers bound their victim and sprang to +the other side of the road, but James’ preserver no +doubt did not wish them to get off so easily, for two +shots resounded the air, and one of the two wretches +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span>gave a cry which Gobson, had he been less drunk, +would have understood, for his deliverer had simply +fired in the air.</p> + +<p>Gobson was hardly saved before he wished also +to take his revenge, only to his amazement he no +longer found in his overcoat pocket the revolver he +was sure he had put there. Besides, the thieves had +disappeared, and the man who had so fortunately +come to his aid had approached.</p> + +<p>“You are not wounded, are you, sir?” asked the +stranger.</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Gobson; “but had it not been +for your arrival I believe that all would have been +over with me. The rogues almost strangled me. I +cannot tell you how grateful I am.”</p> + +<p>While saying this James arranged his toilet, +the harmony of which was singularly disturbed by +this attack, and he fumbled in vain in his pockets, +saying:</p> + +<p>“It is singular; I am, however, certain I took it +from home yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked his savior.</p> + +<p>“My revolver. However, thanks to yours, one of +those robbers has paid for his audacity. But, one +question, sir. How happen you to be in this avenue +at such an hour?”</p> + +<p>“I was returning home.”</p> + +<p>“Home?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I live two hundred steps from here, at +No. 67.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed. We are neighbors, then; I live at +villa 66.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span></p> + +<p>“You are Mr. James Gobson.”</p> + +<p>“I am. But you have the advantage of me. I +am not acquainted with your name.”</p> + +<p>“My name is Charles Murray.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Charles Murray, I owe you my life, +and I shall not forget it; and since we are neighbors +we will not part thus. You will do me the +pleasure of coming into my house and taking a glass +of champagne.”</p> + +<p>“It is very late.”</p> + +<p>“Hardly one o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“Are you not married? We should awaken Mrs. +Gobson.”</p> + +<p>“Bah! Mrs. Gobson will be delighted to see the +man who saved her husband, unless it was she who +tried to have me assassinated.”</p> + +<p>James said this with a laugh, but his laugh was +ironical, and expressed that he believed his wife +perfectly capable of such an act. Charles Murray +did not seem to understand; he merely observed to +his neighbor that the men who attacked him seemed +to have no other intention than to rob him.</p> + +<p>“Yes; that is true,” said Gobson, laughing +again; “and you think this is only joking on my +part?”</p> + +<p>While talking thus the two were walking homeward. +They soon reached the first of the two villas.</p> + +<p>“What, you really wish me to enter your house +at such an hour?” asked Murray, as Gobson opened +the gate and stood aside to let him pass in.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, my dear sir, I absolutely insist on it. +You would disoblige me very much by refusing.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span></p> + +<p>“Let it be then as you wish.”</p> + +<p>And following the master of the villa, who preceded +him to show him the way, Charles Murray +crossed the garden and entered the house.</p> + +<p>“Hallo! Betsy, Betsy, come down,” shouted Gobson +at the foot of the staircase.</p> + +<p>Betsy was Ada’s maid. She had retired to her +bed but was not yet asleep. She immediately +answered, and James, taking the lamp which +lighted the hall, showed his neighbor into the dining-room. +The servant appeared almost immediately.</p> + +<p>“Light the gas,” ordered the master; “give us +some champagne, cigars and crackers, and tell Mrs. +Gobson to join us.”</p> + +<p>“Madam is asleep,” said Betsy.</p> + +<p>“Wake her up,” answered the brute, roughly.</p> + +<p>“No, I beg you,” entreated Murray. “I shall +have the honor of seeing Mrs. Gobson to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“No such thing; she will have time enough to +sleep—she has nothing better to do. Be off with +you, quick, you stupid creature.”</p> + +<p>These last words were addressed to the maid, +who was no doubt accustomed to this rude tone, +and ventured no remark. She lighted the room, +served the champagne, and disappeared to obey her +orders.</p> + +<p>Gobson poured out the wine like a man expert +in such operations, filled the glasses, and emptied +his at one swallow, with a bow to his preserver. +Murray drank with his host, who said, filling the +glasses again:</p> + +<p>“It is truly a good fortune for me to have you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span>for a neighbor. Have you lived in the avenue +long?”</p> + +<p>“Hardly a month. The air of the neighborhood +was recommended for my niece. I came here on +her account.”</p> + +<p>“Are you not married?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“You are very fortunate.”</p> + +<p>“You are more so. They say Mrs. Gobson is very +pretty.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that may be; but you see, dear Mr. Murray, +the best wife—when you are tied to her—is +worse than the devil. She is an obstacle. I for my +part like liberty.”</p> + +<p>The rustle of a dress interrupted this coarse outburst +of James Gobson, who was rapidly returning +on the road to drunkenness, and a few seconds later +the mistress of the house appeared on the threshold +of the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Ada was prettier than ever. In a long blue satin +robe, with her beautiful hair simply drawn up in a +knot on her head, she was simply charming.</p> + +<p>On recognizing in her husband’s companion the +man she loved, she stopped in the doorway an instant, +but understanding that there was some mystery +that would be explained later she silenced the +beating of her heart, became mistress of herself +again, and, bowing to Mr. Murray as she would +have done to a stranger, she entered, saying to +James, in a dry, curt tone:</p> + +<p>“Betsy awoke me, saying that you wanted me. +What can you wish at such an hour?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span></p> + +<p>“Why, my dear,” answered Gobson, in a mocking +tone, “I simply wish to present to you the man +who has saved my life, Mr. Murray, our neighbor. +Without his aid, two scamps were about to do me +an evil deed.”</p> + +<p>“I do not understand you,” said the young woman, +slightly shrugging her shoulders with indifferent +concern.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I know very well,” returned the drunkard, +who had caught this movement, “that if those +fellows had driven six inches of steel into me you +would not have felt greatly displeased. I have +been attacked; they tried to rob me, but my +savior arrived. It was time, for I was half +strangled, and his timely appearance no doubt +saved my life.”</p> + +<p>“Madam,” said Charles Murray, who had risen at +Ada’s entrance, “your husband exaggerates a little +the service which I have rendered him. I believe +that he would have saved himself without me. +However that may be, I beg pardon for having disturbed +your rest. I did not wish to enter your +house, but Mr. Gobson insisted, and my refusal +would have offended him.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, certainly, yes; I insisted,” replied James, +quickly, “and I think it won’t end here; you seem +to me like a lively companion. Another glass of +champagne. Come, Ada, drink with us, or I shall +think that you are grieving because I returned safe +and sound.”</p> + +<p>“I am quite ready,” answered Mrs. Gobson, +smiling, divining that this attack on her husband +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span>was only a comedy. “Whatever you may think, I +am happy that nothing happened to you. I thank +you very sincerely, Mr.—Mr.—”</p> + +<p>“Murray,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>And taking the full glass which her husband +handed her, she moistened her rosy lips, looking +steadily at her neighbor with an expression of +countenance that indicated pleasure.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said the latter, “you will permit me, +dear Mr. Gobson, to intrude no longer; we will see +each other again, since you kindly invite me to your +house.”</p> + +<p>“Let me show you the way home.”</p> + +<p>“Pray do not take the trouble; I can find the +way.”</p> + +<p>This offer, in fact, was almost impossible for +James to carry out, for the four or five glasses of +champagne which he had just drank had again intoxicated +him.</p> + +<p>“Then,” he stuttered, “let Betsy show you the +way.”</p> + +<p>“I will do it myself,” said Mrs. Gobson.</p> + +<p>Gobson nodded approval, and held out his hand +to his guest, making him promise to return the +next day.</p> + +<p>Ada was already on the steps when Charles +Murray joined her. They crossed the garden together.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said, when they reached the gate, +“you see I have kept my promise; here I am, +your husband’s friend. Will you not give me a +word of hope?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span></p> + +<p>“You are charming,” said Mrs. Gobson, her eyes +sparkling. “I will see you to-morrow.” Unclosing +the gate after making this promise, she ran up to +her room without entering the dining-room, where +James, with his elbows on the table, was murmuring, +with eyes full of hatred:</p> + +<p>“If I thought those men were set on by her I +would kill her as I would a dog.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX"> + CHAPTER XX. + <br><span class="small"> + A WIFE’S LOVE AND A MAID’S LOVE. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Under the conditions just described, the love-making +of Charles Murray and Mrs. Gobson promised +rapid progress. Ada was charmed by the easy address +of the handsome stranger, for she knew that +in order to visit her he had planned this attack from +which he had saved her husband, but humiliated at +her husband’s rudeness in the presence of his guest +thought only of revenge.</p> + +<p>Being sure that Gobson would be eager for an +acquaintance with his preserver in proportion to +the repugnance she might show for the intimacy, +the next day, when she was told that Mr. Murray +would lunch at the villa, she received the news +with displeasure; she seated herself at the table, +pouting, and before the end of the meal excused +herself with some pretext, in spite of the rude +remarks of her husband. But the latter cared +little; he was none the less convivial with his +guest, so much so that at the last course he was +intoxicated and would not allow his new friend +to leave.</p> + +<p>“Let it please or not please Mrs. Gobson,” he +said. “We must see each other often. Get admitted +to our club at Barker’s; I will vouch for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span>you. We will return to Jamaica Plain when we +please, and if by chance we happen to come home +early we will end our night gayly here.”</p> + +<p>“I accept,” answered Murray, touching his glass +for the tenth time to that of the drunken man. +“Ah! you know how to enjoy life.”</p> + +<p>“Better still; I wish our two villas to be like one. +They formerly communicated by a gate now out +of use; to-morrow it shall be opened again. Will +that suit you?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly.”</p> + +<p>“Hurrah, then! A good table, play and friends +give the only true pleasure. To the devil with a +wife—that is, your own—”</p> + +<p>Charles Murray, who seemed proof against intoxication, +touched glasses as often as it pleased +his host, and they did not separate until the latter +wishing to go to his club, thought it best to throw +himself on his bed and rest for several hours before +starting.</p> + +<p>At nightfall, after dinner, when her husband had +gone, Mrs. Gobson watched for her neighbor; but to +her amazement and great chagrin he did not give a +sign of his existence. She did not see him again +until the next day, when Gobson, having opened the +connecting-gate between the two villas, did the honors +of the house and park to him.</p> + +<p>During this visit Murray found a chance to say to +Mrs. Gobson, “This evening,” and in the hope of +this interview she forgot her disappointment and +useless waiting of the evening before. She was +punctual at the rendezvous. She waited for Murray +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span>at the garden-gate, and led him to a green bower, +where no curious eye could see them.</p> + +<p>“I waited for you in vain yesterday,” she said, in +a gentle tone of reproach, as soon as they had seated +themselves on a broad rattan bench.</p> + +<p>“Ada, listen to me,” answered Mr. Murray, in a +grave voice, but lovingly pressing the two little hands +Mrs. Gobson gave him. “I feel drawn toward you +by a genuine love. The thought that that coarse +creature is your husband drives me to despair, and I +long to break the fatal link that binds you to him. +Is it not possible?”</p> + +<p>“I think not,” answered Ada sadly, rapt by these +words, for being little accustomed to delicate sentiments, +she found a peculiar charm in feeling herself +jealously loved.</p> + +<p>“Why is it impossible?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I cannot tell you. Do not question me, if +you love me.”</p> + +<p>The young woman said this with an inexpressible +accent of terror. Her hands trembled in Murray’s, +and she bowed before him as if begging him to defend +her, and tears shone in her beautiful eyes.</p> + +<p>But this man seemed as if made of bronze; not a +pulse was stirred, and yet this woman was appealing +to him by the ardor of her heart, and the tone of her +voice, but he gently tried to console her with kind +words. He then led her to the doorsteps, saying:</p> + +<p>“Again to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Ada went to her room, where, in a fit of despair, +she flung herself upon her bed, giving vent to fierce +words of hatred against her husband.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span></p> + +<p>The following days passed the same. One evening +when she was with him, she said:</p> + +<p>“I entreat you to tell me what to do.”</p> + +<p>“I repeat to you, Ada,” answered Murray, “you +must separate from that man, since you have had +the weakness to marry him a second time.”</p> + +<p>“A second time!” said the young woman, with a +smile whose irony transformed it into a sob, and +falling at Murray’s feet, she repeated: “A second +time! Oh! if you only knew.”</p> + +<p>“Explain yourself. What secret links you to +him? Have confidence in me. Let us try every +means to free you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! no, no; never,” cried Mrs. Gobson, with an +indescribable tone of terror. “If I were to die of +your scorn, I shall not speak. Farewell.”</p> + +<p>Speaking these words in a heart-rending tone, +she had arisen and, without looking around, hastened +to her room, shutting the door quickly behind +her.</p> + +<p>Murray who, no doubt, hardly expected this sudden +disappearance, stood a moment amazed and +disappointed, but he made no attempt to recall the +fugitive. He took his hat, went slowly down stairs, +left the house and walked toward the gate leading +to his own villa. He had almost reached it when, +suddenly, the rustling of a dress and hurrying footsteps +indicated that some one was running after +him. He turned round and saw Ada, who sprang +toward him.</p> + +<p>“No, I do not wish to part thus. To-morrow I +will tell you all, and you will free me from that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span>man. But you will love me, you will love me, +won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“How could I help loving you, when you give +me such a proof of love,” he answered. “I love +you so much already.”</p> + +<p>At the same moment a mournful groan was +heard on the other side of the gate.</p> + +<p>“What is that?” asked Mrs. Gobson, frightened.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, nothing,” said Charles Murray, whose +paleness was hidden by the darkness. “Go home +now.”</p> + +<p>“But then——”</p> + +<p>“Go, go, I beg you; it is my wish,” and paying +no further attention to her, he sprang into his +garden, fastening the gate after him; within two +steps he came near stumbling over some one lying +near a cluster of trees.</p> + +<p>“Jane,” he cried, recognizing who it was.</p> + +<p>He took her in his arms and, laden with his +precious burden, ran into the house.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Jane, what has happened?” cried her +good governess, on recognizing her pupil. “She +was with me only five minutes ago.”</p> + +<p>“It is not much, I hope,” answered Murray, +mounting the stairs as lightly as if he were carrying +a child.</p> + +<p>Having reached Jane’s sleeping-room he lay her +on a lolling-chair, and immediately assured himself +that it was only a fainting turn. A moment +later, owing to prompt measures, she came to herself. +Opening her large eyes, and after trying a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span>few minutes to steady her head, she recognized her +friend, and blushingly clasping her hands, said:</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Charles, forgive me, I am punished +enough,” and she burst into sobs.</p> + +<p>“Forgive you, Jane? For what? Weep if you +must; it will relieve you, and you can explain all to +me later. Meanwhile, dear little one, be calm. +I forgive you with all my heart, although I do not +know what fault you have committed, and I love +you.”</p> + +<p>At these words the young girl grew pale, and, +as if she felt herself growing ill again, her lids +drooped.</p> + +<p>“Let your maid attend to you,” continued Murray, +after touching the child’s forehead with his lips, +“and your governess and I will then come and stay +with you until you fall asleep.”</p> + +<p>He signed to the governess, and leaving the invalid +in the care of the maid, they passed into the +boudoir. There they were far enough away not to +be heard.</p> + +<p>“What does this mean?” Murray asked the old +lady.</p> + +<p>“It was sure to happen some day or another, sir,” +answered the teacher; “I reproach myself with +having kept silence.”</p> + +<p>“Silence? Explain yourself; you frighten me.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Jane loves you, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Jane loves me.” And as he repeated these +words Murray carried his hands to his face, which +became of a livid pallor.</p> + +<p>“Yes, she loves you and is jealous.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span></p> + +<p>“Jealous of whom, great God?”</p> + +<p>But with his customary clearness of mind immediately +reviewing the scene whose ending caused +the young girl’s cry and fainting, he understood that +she had been watching him in the garden when Ada +joined him near the gate, and it was the loving +words she heard which caused her illness.</p> + +<p>“Oh! it is frightful,” he murmured, with great +agitation.</p> + +<p>“That is not all, sir; I must conceal nothing from +you,” replied the teacher.</p> + +<p>“What more?”</p> + +<p>“Day before yesterday, early in the evening, Miss +Jane, who had left me only a quarter of an hour before, +came up suffering from a nervous attack. I +wished to call you, but she objected, saying: ‘He is +with her in his library. I suspected it, but I wished +to see for myself. Oh! I am cruelly punished for +my curiosity.’”</p> + +<p>“She saw me with Mrs. Gobson?” questioned +Murray in amazement, and in a voice strangely +moved.</p> + +<p>“That is how it was,” continued the governess, +“but I ask your pardon for speaking to you of things +that do not concern me.”</p> + +<p>“Continue, continue. Did Miss Jane watch me +and hear me enter?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know; it is probable. At any rate, she +came down slowly, noiselessly slipped into your +sleeping-room, of which you had only dropped the +portieres without closing the door, and she recognized +that woman, and she ran away for fear of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span>being caught. And she came and told me this with +sobs.”</p> + +<p>“Poor little one,” said Murray, with a strange +smile, “I am in despair. Go up to her; do not +leave her alone a single instant; tell her that she +is mistaken, and that I will explain all some day. +Above all, advise her to be calm.”</p> + +<p>Then he added, as if speaking to himself, while +the teacher left to join her pupil, “The love of this +angel is my punishment; well, I must finish my +task; God will do the rest.” And immediately going +down-stairs to his study, he rapidly wrote the following +lines:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Friend</span>:—The hour has come; on receipt +of this letter, run to Mr. Kelly’s and tell him +to ask Mr. Davis for a warrant against James Gobson +and his wife. Tell these gentlemen that I will +answer for this measure with my honor. Then take +the first train for Boston with Mr. Saunders and stop +at the American House, where await yours truly,</p> + +<p class="sig"> + <span class="smcap">William</span>. +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Having addressed it to Captain Young at the +office of the central police, New York, Charles +Murray, or rather William Dow, whom the reader +has already recognized, left his study calmer than +he had entered it a few moments before.</p> + +<p>He ordered one of his servants to mail this letter +and went to inquire after Jane. The young girl +had recovered and fallen asleep. As he went down +he gave a threatening look at the lighted windows +of Mrs. Gobson, who, no doubt, was thinking +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span>lovingly of him and he entered his apartments, +saying:</p> + +<p>“Young will have my letter to-morrow; in forty-eight +hours he will arrive. I have more time than +I need. Before then all will be ready.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI"> + CHAPTER XXI. + <br><span class="small"> + THE MURDERER OF A DEAD WOMAN. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Since the day he was attacked, James Gobson had +become ruder and more brutal to his wife than before. +Although he seemed to have been joking +when reproaching her for having set assassins on his +track, the idea of a trap laid by her had taken root +in his mind, and, brave as he was, he so feared that +the attempt would be renewed that he no longer returned +to Jamaica Plain at night. When he had +prolonged his stay at the club he slept there, and +did not return to the villa until daylight the next +day.</p> + +<p>His first duty, on arriving home, was invariably to +make a scene, either with his servants or Mrs. Gobson; +then, this duty of a drunkard being accomplished, +he would call on Charles Murray, of whom +he had made a confidant. The latter tried to calm +him, but took such strange means that Gobson +always left him after such conversations filled with +greater hatred than ever toward Ada.</p> + +<p>The day after the event which ends the preceding +chapter, James returned home towards three o’clock, +and as usual called on his neighbor, and talked +about his wife in such a manner that Mr. Dow +answered:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span></p> + +<p>“Such a life is a perfect purgatory; why do you +not separate from Mrs. Gobson? It would be better +than any scandal, for certainly she will run off some +morning. Some fine evening, when you return +home, you won’t find her.”</p> + +<p>“Separate from her? Is that possible?” growled +the husband. “If I thought she had any idea of +flight, I swear she should not go out of my house +until she went with her feet foremost. There will +be trouble yet. Does she ever say anything in particular +to you?”</p> + +<p>“I have never been alone with her more than +twice since we have been acquainted, and you know +she does not like me very well.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not. You saved my life.”</p> + +<p>“No, that is not the reason; but she knows that +I have great friendship for you. However, it is +very evident that she has some plan in her head. +Have you not a relative or friend by the name of +Davis?”</p> + +<p>“Davis? No. Why?”</p> + +<p>“I had reason to think so, for the other evening, +when you had been treating her rather badly, it +must be confessed, I heard her murmur, as she followed +you about with her eyes: ‘And to think +I had only to write a word to Davis to put an end +to it all.’”</p> + +<p>“Davis? The wretch!”</p> + +<p>This name, no doubt, had suddenly awakened terrible +memories in Gobson’s mind, for in uttering +this exclamation he had become very pale and had +arisen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span></p> + +<p>“You will not betray me,” said Charles Murray. +“Come, calm yourself. It is of no use to be violent +with women. You must use a little cunning, and +don’t let them surprise you. This Davis, or any +other friend or relative, matters little to you. No +one could frighten you; you are master in your own +house. If I were in your place I should leave Mrs. +Gobson to live as she pleases; I would authorize her +to amuse herself as best suits her; I would even +urge her to keep less secluded. It would not need +any more to satisfy her and restore peace to both of +you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, perhaps you are right,” answered James, +with a visible effort to master himself.</p> + +<p>“And above all, I would not say anything to her. +If you do, she will be on her guard, and will play +you some trick and do something rash. Do you +think we had better go and see her together?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed, not to-day, or to-morrow, probably. +This evening I dine at the club, and to-morrow we +shall go to the races with a jolly companion, who +has lately joined us, Harris Burnett. Now, you +know that on the day of the races, there is a great +banquet at Barker’s. After to-morrow, in two or +three days, we will see what is best to be done. +Meanwhile, since you will not come with us, preach +to Ada, and if you see anything promise to warn +me.”</p> + +<p>“I will not fail to do so.”</p> + +<p>“And, then, you see, at heart I do not think her +capable of playing me a wicked trick. However, I +know what I am about.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span></p> + +<p>James Gobson spoke these words in a peculiar +tone, and the friends having separated after this +conversation, the drunken Gobson went to Boston +without even stopping to see his wife. The latter, +however, waited in vain for Charles Murray all the +evening. The door between the two villas remained +closed, and she passed a terrible night, not +understanding why he had not come to see her. +Mad with love and despair, she did not fall asleep +until late into the night, and the next morning +she hastily wrote a note, which she sent to her +neighbor.</p> + +<p>On reading this letter, Murray could not conceal +a smile of triumph. Ada, however, had written +only these three lines, but no doubt did not wish +more:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Come, I beg you, I will tell you everything, I +cannot live thus; I do not wish Mr. Gobson to find +me at Jamaica Plain to-morrow.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>An hour later Charles Murray was warmly +greeted by Mrs. Gobson.</p> + +<p>“Ada,” he said, gently, “I do not wish to know +your secrets; from yourself, I wish only you; will +you elope with me?”</p> + +<p>“Will I?” answered the young woman with a +joyful cry.</p> + +<p>“Well, in the first place, your husband must be +sent away for two or three days, but he must certainly +be sent away from Boston, for he might come +home from his club at any moment and suddenly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span>surprise you making preparations for departure. +You know him well.”</p> + +<p>“He would kill me; but how can I manage to +send him away?”</p> + +<p>“You must send him to some city away from +Boston. Let me think. Has he not some friends +at Buffalo?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know of any.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! I think I have found a plan. What were +the names of those magistrates who made such a +foolish mistake in accusing your husband of having +murdered you?”</p> + +<p>“Mortimer and Davis. The latter was the coroner +in my district.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gobson spoke these names with a blush and +in a choking voice.</p> + +<p>But her neighbor did not observe her emotion, +and said:</p> + +<p>“Coroner Davis, that is perfect. I have a plan; +write down his name and address for me that I may +not forget it. Here, on this envelope.”</p> + +<p>Murray took a tablet from the table and placed it +on Miss Ada’s knees. The latter tremblingly obeyed.</p> + +<p>“Do you not understand me?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“It is very simple, however. I am going to get +a friend of mine in New York to write a letter to +Mr. Gobson, in which Mr. Davis will be supposed to +have some information to ask of him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t do that,” cried Ada, in terror.</p> + +<p>“Why, what is there to fear? Absolutely +nothing.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span></p> + +<p>But seeing Mrs. Gobson’s eyes look wild and her +face terrified, he continued gently:</p> + +<p>“Well, let us think of something else—or rather +we will think of something this evening; calm yourself +now.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, this evening,” she repeated, questioning him +with her eyes.</p> + +<p>“But until then you must obey me.”</p> + +<p>“Blindly.”</p> + +<p>“You must take care to keep your servants +out of the way; I don’t wish to be betrayed by any +of them.”</p> + +<p>“The gardener has gone to the races and will +not return. The cook is ill, and I shall send my +maid to the city.”</p> + +<p>“Then stand near the garden-gate this evening at +nine o’clock, and I will come for you.”</p> + +<p>“Give me one kiss,” entreated Mrs. Gobson.</p> + +<p>Murray, who had arisen, lightly touched his lips +to her forehead and left her.</p> + +<p>He remained only a few moments in his room, then +went out and stepped into a carriage standing at his +door. An hour later he was in the American House +shaking hands with Saunders and Young, who had +just arrived.</p> + +<p>The chief of detectives was still the same—friendly +and gruff, and talking, as usual, of arresting every +one in the world.</p> + +<p>William Dow asked after Mr. Kelly.</p> + +<p>“I saw him yesterday,” answered the captain; +“he was impatiently waiting for you to keep your +promise.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span></p> + +<p>“The elections will not take place for a fortnight; +now, to-morrow morning I hope all will be +ended.”</p> + +<p>In Saunders a great change had taken place, to +his advantage. His love had vanished, and in his +heart remained only anger and humiliation at having +been duped. In physique he was wonderfully improved. +His complexion had recovered its freshness, +and stout as he was he had even gained flesh. It is +useless to add that he was very affectionate to his +friend Dow, especially when he learned that the moment +for vengeance had come.</p> + +<p>Toward six o’clock the travelers had dinner served +in their room, and the detective left them a moment +to receive, in an adjoining parlor, a visitor who had +asked for him.</p> + +<p>It was Harris Burnett.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said William Dow, “where is our man?”</p> + +<p>“He has lost much at the races, which has put +him in a bad mood; besides, he is half drunk,” +answered Burnett.</p> + +<p>“He must not get wholly drunk. Now listen to +me attentively. At half-past eleven, while it is still +possible for Gobson to take the train for Jamaica +Plain, you must have one of the servants at the club +hand him this letter, telling him to answer; if he is +asked who brought it, say that it was a messenger. +Keep near James when he reads it. He will immediately +leave Barker’s. If he begs you to accompany +him you will go with him; if he does not you +must follow him home, and if he closes his gate behind +him you must enter mine, which you will find +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span>open, and wait behind the little gate that connects +his place and mine until I call you. Have you understood +me?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then return to Gobson quickly, lest he perceive +your absence.”</p> + +<p>Harris Burnett hastened back to the club, and +William Dow rejoined Young and Saunders at +the table. At eight o’clock he gave the signal for +departure.</p> + +<p>The three friends entered the carriage, and a few +moments before nine Dow introduced the chief of +detectives and Saunders into his private room on the +ground floor of his house. There, after begging them +to wait with as much patience as they could, he left +them alone and went up to Miss Jane’s room. The +young girl, still pale from her emotion of the evening +before, was with her teacher.</p> + +<p>“My dear child,” said William to her, “I have +come to beg you not to go down to the garden this +evening, and whatever sound you may hear not to +stir from your room.”</p> + +<p>Jane turned a look upon her friend so full of +anxious affection that he continued:</p> + +<p>“Fear nothing for me, I run no danger; but there +is great need for you to do what I wish. If I can +accomplish, as I hope, the work that is approaching +an end, you yourself will thank me. I can +count on you, can I not, and you, Mrs. Wandright?”</p> + +<p>The governess and her pupil, without asking a +question, promised immediately that they would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span>not leave their room until he gave them their liberty, +and he left them, with an affectionate smile at Miss +Jane, feeling assured that his instructions would be +strictly obeyed.</p> + +<p>It had just struck nine. He ran to the gate and +opened it. Prompt at the rendezvous, Ada was +waiting for him.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he said to her, and taking her hand he +led her to the hall connecting with his room. +Then, from there, without passing the sleeping-room +where Young and Saunders were standing, +he took her into the library. But the door of this +room was hardly closed before a horrible cry was +heard—the cry of a woman mad with terror and +despair—and followed by the sound of some one +falling to the floor. Then groans, laments, and +sobs followed one another, and silence again filled +that part of the villa so suddenly and strangely disturbed.</p> + +<p>Two hours later William Dow and Young, +carrying an inert body, crossed the garden and +ascended the stairs which led to Mrs. Gobson’s +rooms. Reaching her sleeping-room, they placed +their burden on the bed and withdrew. A few +moments later they took the same path again, +accompanied this time by Saunders, who seemed +deeply moved, and by a woman enveloped in a +large cloak, and who seemed hardly able to support +herself.</p> + +<p>At the same moment a servant handed James +Gobson, at Barker’s, a letter which a messenger had +just brought. Excited by losses and wine, Gobson +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span>opened it angrily. It contained a note of two lines +and an inclosed letter. The note, signed Murray, +was as follows:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>This is what I have found on your door-step, and +as this letter, which you have lost, may be urgent +I send it by a messenger.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>“What does this mean?” asked James.</p> + +<p>But, as he asked this question, he cast his eyes +on the envelope, and immediately became very +pale. He read on this envelope, written in a woman’s +hand:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Davis, coroner of the Saint Vincent district +of New York.”</p> + +<p>The letter, which he hastened to open, increased +his fear still more; for, without uttering a word, he +sprang out of the room, ran down into the street, +and, after giving an address to the coachman, +sprang into a carriage.</p> + +<p>He did not perceive that he was followed by +Harris Burnett, who stood a few steps away when +the letter was handed him, and had kept him in +sight every moment.</p> + +<p>Twenty minutes later, Gobson was driving hastily +along the avenue, in Jamaica Plain, but, when he +reached his door, he stopped a moment. His forehead +was bathed with an icy sweat; his hideous +face expressed an implacable resolution, and he +muttered, with a sinister smile:</p> + +<p>“Oh! no, wretch, you shall not escape thus.”</p> + +<p>All was silent in the villa, and the garden was +enveloped in darkness. When he recovered from +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span>his rapid drive, he noiselessly opened his gate, +slipped along the wall as far as his house, entered, +and, owing to the carpet which smothered his footsteps, +he softly reached the threshold of the door of +his wife’s apartment. He held a revolver in his +hand; but, as he was about to cross the parlor, he +said to himself:</p> + +<p>“No, not thus; some one might hear,” and putting +the pistol back in his pocket, he armed himself +with a short, stout dagger, without which he had +not gone out of the house since the attack of which +he had nearly become a victim.</p> + +<p>The door that led from the parlor to the sleeping-room +was open. He soon reached it, and raising +the portieres, and although the room was lighted +only by the soft, shaded light of an elaborate lamp, +he recognized Ada, who, lying in her bed, seemed to +be in a profound sleep. Her luxuriant hair rolled +down over the lace alabaster-trimmed pillows beneath +her charming head, and one of her bare arms, +ornamented by one of those large gold bracelets +with which she was so fond of decking herself, was +gracefully extended on the coverlet. Overcome by +fatigue, she had no doubt forgotten to divest herself +of a part of her jewels, for, from the spot where +like a wild beast Gobson was devouring his prey +with glaring eyes, he saw the flash as of a fiery star +of one of the magnificent diamonds in her pretty +ears, a present from Saunders.</p> + +<p>The charming tableau was not of a nature to +calm his revengeful feelings. It seemed as if it +roused his hatred, for, after a moment’s hesitation, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span>he sprang forward, and his dagger, with a thrust +that would have pierced the heart of his victim, +struck her in the throat, and the murderer whispered +hoarsely:</p> + +<p>“Now, Kitty Bell, you will not speak.”</p> + +<p>But the wretch gave a frightful shriek, and +bounded backward.</p> + +<p>His weapon, he did not understand how, had met +with resistance, and at the bedside suddenly rose +before his horrified gaze the figure of a woman in +Indian costume, which cried:</p> + +<p>“Assassin! assassin! a second time!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada,” screamed Gobson, at this terrible +apparition, and with affrighted eyes, foaming mouth, +and convulsed features, his whole being shuddering +with horror and fear, he seized his pistol and fired +at the accusing phantom.</p> + +<p>But his ball, badly aimed, struck the wall above +the young woman’s head, and the murderer had not +time to repeat his homicidal attempt, for, being immediately +seized and disarmed by Young and Dow, +who sprang from behind the curtains where they +had hidden themselves, he was soon thrown upon +the floor, and made powerless.</p> + +<p>At the same moment a sob was heard.</p> + +<p>Poor Saunders had thrown himself upon this +waxen statue, the faithful image of her he had so +much loved, and he said, through his tears, pressing +in his burning hand the icy hand of Albert Moor’s +<i>chef-d’œuvre</i>:</p> + +<p>“Poor Ada! poor Ada! I knew that she had not +deceived me.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII"> + CHAPTER XXII. + <br><span class="small"> + KITTY BELL’S STORY. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>If we retrace our steps and enter William Dow’s +study when he admitted Mrs. Gobson, we shall witness +a scene which explains how the events came +about which we have just described.</p> + +<p>Ada, absorbed in her love, had just crossed the +threshold of this room, when the man, from whom +she expected only smiles, suddenly looked stern, and +drawing back, looked and pointed at the body of a +woman lying on a lounge.</p> + +<p>“Miss Ada, Miss Ada!” cried Mrs. Gobson.</p> + +<p>“You confess, then, Kitty Bell?” said William +Dow.</p> + +<p>It was then that the unhappy woman uttered the +cry of terror and despair of which we have spoken, +and who, not being able to endure such emotion, +had fallen almost lifeless to the floor.</p> + +<p>At the sound, Young and Saunders rushed from +the sleeping-room into the library.</p> + +<p>Words could not picture the amazement of the +cracker-merchant. He at first sprang toward Mrs. +Gobson, as if to help her; but the detective stopped +him, pointing to the lounge where lay the woman +of wax, and the poor man, his face looking wild and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span>discomposed, stood motionless, wondering which of +these two women was his own Ada.</p> + +<p>Fearing that such a shock might be too violent +for the ill-balanced brain of Saunders, William +Dow hastened to say:</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself, my friend; the woman you +loved is really dead; this body is only the cast I had +made in the secret hope that it would serve me some +day. As for this woman, her strange resemblance to +Miss Ada made her the accomplice of James Gobson; +but it is she who will become our instrument of +justice and vengeance.”</p> + +<p>And that the too impressionable Yankee might +not longer have under his eyes the image which +fascinated him, he carried it from his sight.</p> + +<p>At this unexpected spectacle, Young manifested +no sensibility, but divining, in spite of his moderate +intelligence, that his friend Dow was going to take +his revenge, he gave him a look of admiration. +Then he leaned down to Mrs. Gobson and bore her +to a lounge, where, in a few moments, she began to +recover consciousness.</p> + +<p>“Kitty Bell,” said William to her, when he saw +that she was in a condition to understand him, +“rouse yourself; your fate is in your own hands.”</p> + +<p>“Kitty Bell! Why do you call me that name, +Mr. Murray?” stammered the young woman.</p> + +<p>“Because it is your name. My name is William +Dow. And look at those gentlemen—you will +recognize them, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gobson looked alternately at Young and +Saunders, and her face, which had began to resume +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span>its rosy coloring, became livid. She knew that she +was lost.</p> + +<p>“Hear these few lines,” resumed the detective, +who had drawn from his pocket-book a sheet of +paper covered with printed characters and manuscript:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>To-day, the twentieth of February, 184—, by us, +Armand Rebours, vicar of the parish of St. Joseph, +have been baptized according to the rites of the +Holy Church, Catholic, Apostolic and Roman, Kitty +and Anna Bell, born the thirteenth of this month, +twin sisters, and daughters of Mr. and Mrs. +Bell, in presence of these the witnesses: Jack +Howey, Bernard Lowe, godfathers, and Mary +Fellen and Lucy Molden, godmothers.</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"> + (Signed) +</p> + +<p class="sig0"> + <span class="smcap">Armand Rebours</span>, Priest.<br> + <br> + <span class="smcap">Edward Berney</span>, + Rector of the parish of St. Joseph.<br> + <br> + <span class="smcap">Robert Hall</span>, + Coroner of the said parish.<br> +</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 5em;"> + New Orleans, June 14, 186—. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Mrs. Gobson was so overcome she could not +speak, but her eyes spoke for her, and so entreatingly +that William Dow continued:</p> + +<p>“You are Kitty Bell, and this wax statue is all +that remains of your sister Anna, whom Gobson +murdered, and whose name and place you took +owing to your wonderful resemblance to her.”</p> + +<p>“My sister!” she cried, at this horrible revelation, +“my sister. Oh! gentlemen, you did not +think me an accomplice in this frightful crime.” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span>She had thrown herself on her knees, holding out +her hands imploringly to her judges, and she repeated +between her sobs: “No, no; do not believe +it, I entreat you.”</p> + +<p>There was the ring of truth in her prayer, and +William himself was moved by it. He leaned +over toward her, raised her and forced her to seat +herself in the arm-chair she had just left, and +knowing that tears are the best sedative, he let her +weep a few minutes, then said:</p> + +<p>“I believe you, but you must confess the whole +truth, conceal nothing from us, and afterwards you +must obey me.”</p> + +<p>“Do with me as you will, gentlemen,” groaned +the weeping woman. “My poor Anna, I have not +heard from her for more than ten years. I thought +she resided in New Orleans with our family, where +she met this wretch who has destroyed my life. +Our mother was dead, and our father did not +trouble himself about us. I did not know of +Gobson’s marriage. And it was that infamous +man Gobson who married her, and I—I was in his +power, and then I became his wife. Oh! it is horrible. +Let me——”</p> + +<p>Saying thus, Kitty Bell struggled in the arms of +William Dow and Young, who stopped her as she +was going to jump out of the window. They carried +her into the sleeping-room and laid her on an +easy-chair.</p> + +<p>Saunders, who witnessed this scene with an air of +amazement impossible to describe, followed them. +A few moments later Mrs. Gobson became a little +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span>calmer, and William Dow having urged her to acquaint +him with the slightest details of her relations +with James Gobson, she said, weeping:</p> + +<p>“I became acquainted with James Gobson hardly +six months ago at San Francisco. I was employed +in an establishment where this man was an habitue. +He paid court to me; I was tolerably happy, in +spite of the scenes when he was intoxicated. One +day I wished to break off with him because in an +angry fit he wounded me in pulling out one of my +ear-rings, but he apologized so humbly for his +rudeness, and took such good care of me, that I +forgave him. Why was I so weak?”</p> + +<p>“Go on, Kitty, don’t forget anything,” said the +detective.</p> + +<p>“About a fortnight after this occurrence, he +gave me a cup of tea, and I fell into a strange +sleep. It lasted about three or four hours at least. +When I awoke he was near me, looking at me +anxiously. ‘You fainted,’ he said, ‘and in falling +you came near killing yourself. Happily, you are +all right now.’ I felt a sharp pain in my mouth. +I put my hand to it and drew it away covered +with blood. I sprang to a looking-glass. A tooth +was gone, on the right side. I uttered a cry of +despair and the wretch tried to console me. I had +broken a tooth he declared in slipping against a +piece of furniture. This accident caused me alarm, +for I was not subject to fainting turns. But from +that moment Gobson became so gentle, and anxious, +and generous, that I did not express a wish +that was not gratified, and I soon forgot the event.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span></p> + +<p>“You now understand what his object was.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! yes, the wretch; my poor Anna. We +were so alike when we lived together that father, +in order to distinguish us himself, made us +wear velvet bands of different colors around our +throats.”</p> + +<p>“Now, as Gobson had torn his wife’s ear and +broken out a tooth, the one who was to replace +her must lose a tooth and have a cut on her ear. +Go on; tell about your departure from San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“We left San Francisco toward the month of +November, of last year, and went to Washington, +where I lived in a little country house in complete +retirement. Gobson I did not see for weeks, but +after being absent he showed me much affection, +and said, after returning from his journeys, that +he was working for my happiness, and as he +wished soon to marry me, I obeyed. However, I +instinctively feared him. I would have liked to +end with him. Such was the state of things when +one day in January, James came to me in a state +of exaltation which frightened me. What he said +to me then, oh! I do not believe I could reveal.”</p> + +<p>“You must; your testimony is indispensable,” +said William Dow, sternly; “for your fate depends +on your frankness in telling what else you can +make known. Besides, do you not wish to avenge +your sister?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; I must,” answered Kitty, raising her +head, that she had concealed in her hands, and, +speaking hurriedly, she continued:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span></p> + +<p>“He told me about a woman whom I resembled +in so extraordinary a manner that every one took +me for her. Her name was Ada Ricard. A Colonel +Forster was in love with her. With audacity and +coolness I could pass for her. He himself would +take me to this colonel, who had promised him quite +a large sum.</p> + +<p>“‘Mr. Forster,’ he added, ‘hardly knows Miss +Ada; his error will be complete; he will adore you, +and as he is rich and generous, you will have all you +wish.’ It was horrible, but it was a chance to get +away from Gobson, who alarmed me, and I consented. +He gave me even the slightest details about +Ada Ricard’s life, for he learned them from some +one who lived in her house; finally he taught me to +play the part. I held myself in readiness and one +morning we set out for New York, where we arrived +during the night. He procured lodgings for +me in a house which I should not recognize again, +for although we went on foot, it was in a dense fog. +I think it was in a horrible neighborhood and that +the streets were narrow and muddy. The river was +about two hundred steps beyond. After locking the +door of my room and providing me with the necessary +provisions, he left me alone in this house all the +next day. It was Tuesday, I remember, and he +came back at about two o’clock in the morning and +brought a bundle, which he opened before me. It +contained the costume of an Indian woman in the +time of the Incas. He bade me put it on. I then +had a gloomy presentiment, for Gobson was pale and +much more moved than he wished to appear. But +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span>he said to me in so threatening a tone, ‘Let us have +done quickly; it was in this disguise that Miss Ada +was carried off, and you must go to Colonel Forster +dressed as she was.’ I was afraid, and did not dare +ask what had become of the woman whose place I +was to take. I dressed as Gobson ordered me and +according to his directions. He had foreseen everything +at each of the colonel’s stopping-places. I was +to send him word, with the initials ‘A. Z.,’ to Baltimore +immediately, and announce my return in the +same manner. If anything happened to him I must, +on returning to New York, boldly present myself at +No. 17 East Twenty-third Street, where I should +find a woman, Mary, who would recognize me as +Miss Ada.”</p> + +<p>Kitty Bell spoke the name of her sister with so +much emotion that sobs choked her voice.</p> + +<p>After leaving her a moment to recover, William +Dow ordered her to continue her story.</p> + +<p>“This servant,” continued the young woman, +weeping, “was the accomplice of that wretch. All +passed as Gobson had arranged. As soon as I was +ready he made me cross the river and meet Colonel +Forster, who had not the least suspicion of my +identity. When I reached Baltimore I learned the +mysterious crime through the papers. I understood +it thus, but I was afraid to confess the truth, and I +acknowledge that, maddened at being duped and in +the power of James Gobson, I wished to play my +part to the end to avenge myself on him. If it had +not been for the accident to the hangman, Meyer, I +should have been late enough not to have seen him. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span>I knew what day had been fixed for the execution, +and that is why I did not return to New York until +the hour when I thought all over. But fate decided +it should be otherwise, and that I must save the +wretch from the gallows. You know the rest; but +I swear to you, on my eternal salvation—oh! however +low I may have fallen, I should not dare to be +false in swearing this—I swear to you that when I +was forced to escape from Gobson by means of +Colonel Forster, I did not know that Miss Ada had +been murdered, and only here in this room have I +learned that Gobson’s victim was his wife and that +she was my sister, my unhappy Anna. Now, do +with me as you will; deliver me up to justice; kill +me or let me die.”</p> + +<p>“No, Kitty Bell, you shall not die, and the law +will be indulgent toward you; why, you must help +us to punish the guilty.”</p> + +<p>“I obey your commands.”</p> + +<p>“The costume of an Indian woman in which you +deceived a lover of Ada Ricard, you must once +more wear, in order that we may attack the guilty +man.”</p> + +<p>Saying this, the detective drew from a chest a +dress absolutely like that worn by Ada Ricard the +night she was carried away, and while Kitty Bell +was dressing, with the aid of Young he transported +the wax statue to Mrs. Gobson’s bed.</p> + +<p>The reader is familiar with the subsequent movements, +and let us now return to the room where we +left James Gobson in the hands of Young and +William Dow.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"> + CHAPTER XXIII. + <br><span class="small"> + WHARF 32. + </span></h2> +</div> + + +<p>Harris Burnett, who was merely an agent sent +by Kelly, by order of William Dow, had exactly followed +the latter’s instructions. In spite of the +courage and strength of the captain and detective, +he reinforced them none too soon, for Gobson, mad +with anger, was becoming difficult to hold. He +foamed at the mouth, gave horrible shrieks, poured +out the most frightful curses upon his wife and +rolled upon the floor, and, for lack of other weapons, +used his teeth like a wild beast. However, his three +adversaries succeeded in mastering him, and he was +so firmly bound and gagged that he could have been +left alone without danger. As for Kitty Bell, she +sank sobbing on the bed.</p> + +<p>“Madam,” said William Dow, “I am obliged to +arrest you, but I renew the promise I made you. +I shall speak to the judges about you in a manner +to render them as indulgent as possible, on account +of your frankness and the services you have rendered.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! do as you will with me, sir,” answered the +young woman.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Young will accompany you to my house, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span>that you may resume your own dress, and he will +afterwards bring you here, where you will rest a +few hours. We will go to New York by the first +train in the morning.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gobson obediently took Young’s arm, for +without this support she could hardly have sustained +herself, and left the room without daring to +look back.</p> + +<p>As for Saunders, his love for Miss Ada had returned, +and kneeling beside her bed he was still +weeping. William Dow forced him to rise, and led +him to the boudoir, in order to take him as much as +possible from his sad memories, by keeping him from +the statue which so cruelly reminded him of the +past.</p> + +<p>The captain and Mrs. Gobson returned about a +quarter of an hour later. The young woman sank +exhausted on an arm-chair, hiding her face in both +hands. It was a singular tableau which this elegant +and mysterious sleeping-room presented, now transformed +into a field of combat; and he, whose intelligence +had so quickly made it the theatre of his +justice, glanced around it with just pride. On one +side sat Mrs. Gobson, perhaps weeping more for her +vanished dreams than for her dread of reality; on +the other, reduced to powerlessness, the wretch who +had been conquered by the same weapons he had +made use of.</p> + +<p>“Burnett,” said William Dow to the agent, after +a few moments’ silence, “watch this man. We +will return in a moment.”</p> + +<p>And then, leaving the prisoner and his wife in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span>care of the chief of detectives, William and Burnett +raised the woman of wax and carried her into the +adjoining villa, and placed her on the same lounge +where Kitty Bell first saw her.</p> + +<p>“Now, Young,” said William Dow to his friend, +“return to Gobson, and in a few moments I will +join you.”</p> + +<p>The captain obeyed, and the detective went up +to see Miss Jane. The young girl was pale and +trembling, as well as her governess, for she wondered +if anything had happened to her friend, having +heard the pistol-shot in the next house. On perceiving +him she gave a cry of joy and threw herself +into his arms.</p> + +<p>“Come, my dear child,” he said, “and you, too, +Mrs. Wandright; I have an explanation to make.”</p> + +<p>And preceding the teacher and her pupil, who followed +him without understanding what it was all +about, he led them into his study. At sight of the +wax figure on the lounge, Miss Jane stepped back.</p> + +<p>“Do not be afraid,” said William Dow, taking her +hand, “but come and look at her. Here, Jane, is +the Mrs. Gobson whom you saw here one day when +curiosity tempted you. It is only the statue of Miss +Ada Ricard, the victim of the mysterious murder +whose author I discovered.”</p> + +<p>Ashamed to find that William Dow had learned +what jealousy had caused her to do, the pretty child +hung her head, blushing, but gave her friend a +happy, grateful look, murmuring, “Forgive me,” +and her friend returned it with a smile and affectionate +caress.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span></p> + +<p>Having informed Miss Jane and her governess +that he should be absent a few days, Mr. Dow +begged them to go up to their rooms and he joined +Young and Burnett. They had dragged James +Gobson up against the wall, and for humanity’s +sake had slipped a cushion under his head. The +wretch was foaming at the mouth and his eyes +glared, but he did not try to cry out or to combat +with them.</p> + +<p>The captain and agent watched him in turn that +night, and at daybreak William Dow hastened to the +chief of police at Boston to inform him of what had +passed, and to ask his aid in order to convey the +prisoner to New York without further delay.</p> + +<p>This officer, who had faith in our hero, immediately +gave the necessary orders, and toward noon, without +the same being made known at Jamaica Plain, +for Young had given orders to the servants in the +house, James Gobson was conveyed on the railroad +under charge of Burnett and two agents from Boston +who had joined him.</p> + +<p>The assassin was calmer, but what they knew of +his past led his guards to mistrust him. They kept +handcuffs on him, telling him that at the first cry, +or attempt at rebellion, they would tie his legs and +gag him again.</p> + +<p>Young took a seat in a car reserved for him with +Mrs. Gobson, who was resigned to her fate, and +William Dow, after telegraphing to Kelly, seated +himself with Saunders, whose mind was again off +the balance.</p> + +<p>The journey was marked by no incident, and at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span>eight o’clock that same day all the characters of our +story reached New York.</p> + +<p>The first face William Dow espied on the wharf +was the expansive one of Fat Kelly, who was accompanied +by Mortimer and Davis, who had been +notified. It is useless to say how these gentlemen +greeted the skilful detective. James Gobson was +captured—that was the most important fact; but +they were eager to know the details of his capture, +and they plied William Dow with questions.</p> + +<p>“Pardon, gentlemen,” said the latter, “we must +first attend to the prisoner, or prisoners; we will +talk afterwards.”</p> + +<p>James Gobson did not attempt resistance, but it +would be impossible to describe the look he gave +his wife. She could hardly stand, and had to be +carried into the waiting-room.</p> + +<p>The assassin, after having his identity proved, entered +a carriage waiting for him, and Mr. Kelly +ordered Young to take him at once to Blackwell’s +Island, where he was to be imprisoned until he +was called before the criminal court a second +time.</p> + +<p>The worthy Saunders did not know what to make +of it when William Dow said to him:</p> + +<p>“My dear sir, return home, resume business, and +think of this tragedy only as a bad dream, until the +law has need of you again. But before then I shall +come and see you.” And clasping the hand that +with a sigh was held out to him, he joined Kelly, +Davis, and Mortimer, who were impatiently waiting +for him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span></p> + +<p>It was decided that owing to Mrs. Gobson’s exhausted +condition and the services that she had +rendered the cause of justice, that she should have +comparative liberty, but under the surveillance of +the two agents, and she had already left for No. 17 +East Twenty-third Street.</p> + +<p>Everything being settled thus, Mr. Kelly quickly +went with William Dow to the central office. He +was eager, as well as Mortimer and Davis, to know +the whole story and all the details.</p> + +<p>William Dow told them from beginning to end, +and then said to Kelly, who was almost shaking his +hands off:</p> + +<p>“Well, have I done right—have I kept my +promise?”</p> + +<p>“You are a splendid man, my dear Dow,” he answered. +“How the devil came you to have your +suspicions? You can tell me now.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; besides, nothing is simpler or less +mysterious. I must first confess that I had in my +possession a certain report of your rival, Robertson +which contained precious information. Ah! his +agents are keen and smart.”</p> + +<p>“It is no more trouble for them to be so than for +that great blockhead, Young,” observed Mr. Kelly, +shrugging his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I agree with you. Well,” continued Dow, “and +while in yours, trace of Miss Ada was lost in her +entrance to Yorkville, in that of Robertson, on the +contrary, they mention her as being in Colonel Forster’s +yacht, at Staten Island, three days before the +body of the drowned woman was found at Shakespeare’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span>tavern. Saunders told me that a boat, in +which were the Colonel and Miss Ada, had been run +down and capsized, and that the latter was drowned; +but I questioned the best seamen in the harbor, and +I myself made experiments with floating objects, +and while learning about submarine currents I obtained +the almost complete certainty that a human +body could not be carried in so short a time from +Staten Island to the top of the river. Besides, nothing +was less certain than the fatal consequences of +the accident of which Saunders accused himself. +I concluded from that that either Miss Ada was not +drowned at Staten Island; or, that if she had +perished on these shores, her body could not have +been brought by the current to Wharf 32. Therefore +the woman who was in Forster’s yawl was not +Miss Ada, although Robertson’s agent, who had her +photograph—the only one Saunders possessed—might +have recognized her on board the Gleam, +unless there were two women on the yacht; but the +colonel talked of only one, the Miss Ada whom he +carried off.”</p> + +<p>“This is well reasoned,” said the officers.</p> + +<p>“There was then, either with Colonel Forster or +drowned at Staten Island, a woman who was or +was not Miss Ada, at the very moment when at the +bottom of East River was lying a woman who was +soon also to be recognized as Miss Ada Ricard. This +coincidence was too strange and complete, and improbable, +not to lead me at once to think that I +had found an absolutely planned crime, a substitution +of persons. Now, as we could not substitute +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span>an Ada dead for an Ada living, for what would +have been the object, it was for an Ada dead that a +living Ada had been substituted.”</p> + +<p>“Very true, Mr. Dow, very true,” said the magistrates, +bowing before this logic.</p> + +<p>“This first reasoning,” continued the detective, +“naturally led me to suppose that it was really +Gobson, the jealous husband, who had taken a woman +to Colonel Forster, but not Miss Ada, his wife. +It must be another woman, and since I admitted +that he was the man who took her off he must also +be the assassin.</p> + +<p>“As for the hour when the crime was committed, +nothing was easier to certify; it was in the carriage +itself, for in the boat in which James Gobson crossed +the East River was but one woman, and that woman +was living. The officer on watch on the +Liberia heard a cry when the steamer came near +running it down. What Kitty Bell told me later +proved to me that I had reasoned justly, and fixed +the place and moment of the crime. Gobson +smothered his victim in the carriage, and if he +spoke the words reported by the driver Katters it is +nothing astonishing; for his cunning and skill we +know very well. He wished that this man might +some day affirm, if necessary, that Miss Ada was +living when she left the carriage, but she was dead. +Kitty Bell waiting for James Gobson in a house at +Yorkville, the murderer would never have committed +the blunder of carrying into the house a living +woman who might have screamed, called for help +or betrayed her presence, and make the one who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span>was to take her place fear that she was becoming +the accomplice of a murderer. But the dead Ada +he murdered at his ease, took off her jewels, excepting +the gold bracelet, which he found among the +Sioux, and which one of those Indians, no doubt, +picked up on the young woman’s door-step, as it +probably fell off when she was carried away; then, +having done this, Gobson dressed Kitty Bell in his +victim’s dress, and took her to Forster as Miss Ada, +and when he returned he had accomplished the last +act in his tragedy. That is to say, he took away +the corpse, embarked with it again and threw it in +the water, after fastening to it the barrel of tar which +he found in his boat, or which he stole, it matters +little. When, later, after escaping the gallows in +spite of Kitty Bell, who would have been delighted +to have him hanged, James Gobson married that +woman, it was both to have his share of Miss Ada’s +fortune and to make sure of the silence of his accomplice. +Mrs. Gobson could not denounce her husband +without destroying herself. This marriage of +itself would have sufficed to awaken my suspicions; +was it like a woman to do what the one supposed +to be Mrs. Gobson did? Miss Ada would have let +her husband be hanged, for she feared him, and if +she had saved him she would never have become his +wife. Between Gobson who would have remembered, +and Saunders who asked only to be forgiven, +she would not have hesitated. This, gentlemen, +was how it happened; you know the rest.”</p> + +<p>“You are an astonishing detective, my dear +Dow,” cried Fat Kelly, in the utmost enthusiasm.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span></p> + +<p>“That is perhaps saying a great deal,” said +William, smiling; “but what is more certain, is +that I am a man, and being such I can do no more. +I will ask you and these gentlemen, therefore, for +permission to go home. It is forty-eight hours since +I have been in bed.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, my friend. Only one word more. +Since you knew all this, why did you not simply +arrest Gobson instead of taking the trouble to bring +about that dramatic episode at Jamaica Plain?”</p> + +<p>“Dear Mr. Kelly, I will explain to you, but I am +sure that Mr. Mortimer and Davis, who are lawyers, +have already divined my reason.”</p> + +<p>The two magistrates smilingly bowed, and the +detective continued:</p> + +<p>“Acquitted and reinstated by the criminal court, +Gobson could no longer be pursued for the same +crime, evident as his culpability might become, and +had he even confessed all. Now, I, William Dow, +had sworn that this man should be punished for +murdering Miss Ada, and I made him murder her +a second time. By striking that wax statue, which +he took for his wife, James Gobson made himself +guilty of an attempt to murder, the effect of which +was destroyed only by a circumstance independent +of his will. He, then, is under the jurisdiction of +the criminal court, and, as I wished, the murder was +really attempted upon Miss Ada. Do you understand +now?”</p> + +<p>“My God, my dear friend,” said the chief of +police, “I am only a blockhead like that stupid +Young while you, you——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span></p> + +<p>“I only kept my promise to you and the vow I +made to myself.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Mortimer and Davis joined their thanks and +congratulations to those of Kelly, and knowing +that William Dow needed rest, they gave him his +liberty.</p> + +<p>The next day, as will be understood, nothing else +was talked of in New York but the new arrest of +James Gobson; for the papers, being covertly informed +by order of the chief of police, could completely +satisfy the curiosity of their readers by +relating to them the smallest details of the events +that had happened at Boston.</p> + +<p>The mystery with which the murder had been +enveloped was at last unveiled; this horrible crime +was going to be punished. The public conscience +was satisfied, and Kelly, who since James Gobson’s +discharge had lost so much ground with his electors, +was in the way to become a great man. For, although +all had been told about the tragedy at Jamaica +Plain, the name of William Dow had remained a +secret; the latter exacted it from motives best +known to himself.</p> + +<p>Only the political adversaries of the chief of police +were in despair, and the head of the agency of +Robertson Brothers & Co., who was up for Congress, +found that he had no chance for success +owing to the sudden change in affairs.</p> + +<p>Kelly’s partisans profited so well by the event, as +the election day approached, that the victory of Mr. +Kelly became more certain.</p> + +<p>During this time Mr. Davis and Mortimer were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span>preparing the case of James Gobson, who was still +in prison at Blackwell’s Island, and awaiting to be +transferred to the Tombs, a few days before his +appearance before the jury. He had completely +broken down, losing all that bravado and assumed +indifference which so cunningly characterized him +at his previous incarceration for the murder of +Miss Ada Ricard.</p> + +<p>Kitty Bell renewed her confessions before the +examining magistrates, and a hearing had been appointed +for the day after election, when one morning +Captain Young plunged like an avalanche into +Kelly’s office, crying:</p> + +<p>“Oh! Mr. Kelly, Mr. Kelly, such a misfortune +has happened!”</p> + +<p>“What is it?—what is it?” asked Kelly.</p> + +<p>“James Gobson is drowned!”</p> + +<p>“Drowned! What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, drowned. Just as he was crossing the +planking at Blackwell’s Island to enter the government +boat to come to the Tombs, he pushed against +the guards and leaped into the water, dragging one +of the unhappy men after him.”</p> + +<p>“And did that man also disappear?”</p> + +<p>“No; fortunately he was saved, but they could +not fish up Gobson.”</p> + +<p>“That is a pity, for I should really have taken +pleasure in seeing him at the end of a rope; but +what can be done? Has the river been searched?”</p> + +<p>“They are still working at it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, let them continue to search, and if the +rascal’s body is found, let it be sent to Bellevue +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span>Hospital, to Dr. O’Neel. It will at least be of some +use after his death.”</p> + +<p>Having said this, Kelly dismissed the captain, +who did not understand the philosophy with which +his chief took James Gobson’s death. The officer +immediately reflected as follows: That the assassin +would have made revelations to his judges that +would have brought to notice William Dow, and +would have lessened the role of Kelly. He was +therefore delighted that the accused had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Kitty Bell, it is true, remained, but he knew that +by promising her the indulgence of the court she +would say only what he wished. Nevertheless, at +the news of this suicide, the disappointment was +general, and the opponents of Mr. Kelly tried to +profit by it, but the movement was started in his +favor, and election day for Mr. Kelly was one of +triumph.</p> + +<p>William Dow was in the latter’s office when they +came to tell him the result of the voting. He was +elected with twenty thousand votes more than at +the last time. The effect of this announcement +upon Mr. Kelly can well be imagined.</p> + +<p>“To you I owe this victory, my dear friend,” he +said to the detective, embracing him with enthusiasm; +“how can I prove my gratitude to you for +all this?”</p> + +<p>“By giving me the first possible opportunity to +make myself useful,” answered William, with a sad +smile, “for in attending to your affairs I also attend +to my own.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; that mystery in your life, a mystery in +which the pretty and charming Miss Jane must play +a part. When will you have confidence and friendship +enough for me to judge me worthy of being +your confidant?”</p> + +<p>“Some time, my dear Kelly, some time. Jane +has gone to New York with her governess, but I +wish to have her take a trip, for she is ill. I will +tell you some day what terrible tie attaches me to +this dear child, for whom I would give my life, and +whom I make suffer, alas, from a malady which to +any one else would be an immense joy, for it might +cure her.”</p> + +<p>Greatly puzzled at these words, spoken so sadly, +Mr. Kelly was about, perhaps, to beg for the key to +the riddle, when, after knocking, Captain Young +appeared.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” said the captain to his chief, after shaking +hands with his visitor, “they have just found James +Gobson’s body.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said the officer; “where?”</p> + +<p>“Under Wharf 32, opposite Shakespeare’s +tavern.”</p> + +<p>“Under Wharf 32,” cried William Dow. “Well, +my dear friends, was I not right in stating that Ada +Ricard’s body had been thrown into the water at +Blackwell’s Island, and on that side of the river. +One would say that Heaven itself wished to furnish +the proof of my theories. Having fallen into the +water near the spot where he threw his wife, James +Gobson—and observe, after the same interval of +time—James Gobson reappeared just there where +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span>the corpse of the unhappy woman was discovered, +under Wharf 32.”</p> + +<p>“This is, indeed, truly wonderful,” exclaimed +Kelly.</p> + +<p>As for Young, he could not find a word to express +his thoughts; only his looks plainly said that his +former admiration for the intelligent detective had +become enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>A few days after this conversation, Kitty Bell appeared +alone before the criminal court, for the maid +Mary, supposed to be Gobson’s accomplice, could +not be found. Kitty Bell was simply convicted of +complicity in the kidnapping, and her judges, aware +of the services she had rendered in the cause of +justice, condemned her to only a year’s imprisonment. +She received her sentence with utter composure, +having determined to submit to the decree +of the court, whatever it might be, without any +show of feeling that he whom she had so dearly +loved might detect.</p> + +<p>Ada, or rather Anna Bell’s fortune went to her +father, who was still living.</p> + +<p>Six months later, Kitty Bell, at Mr. Kelly’s request, +was released, and entered a cafe in New +York, where she made her fortune in less than a +year.</p> + +<p>Then her success on the other side of the ocean +led the still pretty Mrs. Gobson to try her fortune in +Paris, where we met her at the house of the leader +of the opera bouffe, who came near engaging her. +She would evidently have been a great attraction, +but the impressario did not dare risk the adventure, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span>and the beautiful American disappeared. Perhaps +she will yet meet our stout friend, Mr. Saunders, +who, after keeping the Woman of Wax at his +house several weeks, one day sacrificed it for the +benefit of Barnum’s Museum.</p> + +<p>William Dow remained the true friend and aid +of Mr. Kelly, until an event occurred in his life +which we may some day narrate—an event which +enabled him to finally take his place in society, +which a horrible adventure, followed by a promise, +made him abandon.</p> + + +<p class="center p4">THE END.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i3" style="max-width: 95.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i3.jpg" alt="The Name of + Street & Smith + on a + publication is + A GUARANTEE + OF GOODNESS + That’s why + everybody buys them + in preference + to others. + +Insist on getting Street & +Smith’s. The Right Books +at the Right Price + +For sale by all up-to-date +newsdealers + + IF YOUR DEALER DON’T SELL THEM, + GO TO THE MAN THAT DOES"> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i4" style="max-width: 84.0em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i4.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>I think every man I see uses R·I·P·A·N·S.</p> + +<p>Mr. Barry, our manager, takes one after every meal +and so does his father and sister. The old gentleman +has rheumatism if he don’t take R·I·P·A·N·S. They use +twelve a day in that house.</p> + +<p>About half the people I know carry one of those 5-cent +cartons all the time in their vest pockets.</p> + +<p>I was in the Bowery Savings Bank to draw some +money, and while I was waiting in the line a clerk came +up to the paying teller and said: “Give me a Ripans!” +The teller took a carton out of his pocket and handed +it to the clerk, who took out one of the Tabules and +handed the carton back. Then I watched him and saw +him go to the water cooler and swallow the Tabule with +some water; I saw him tip his head back.</p> + +<p>It’s just wonderful how everybody takes them.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="small">WANTED:—A case of bad health that R·I·P·A·N·S will not benefit. Send five +cents to Ripans Chemical Co., No. 10 Spruce Street, New York, for 10 samples and +1,000 testimonials. R·I·P·A·N·S, 10 for 5 cents, or 12 packets for 48 cents, may be +had of all druggists who are willing to sell a standard medicine at a moderate profit. +They banish pain and prolong life. One gives relief. Note the word R·I·P·A·N·S +on the packet. Accept no substitute.</p> +</blockquote> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i5" style="max-width: 87.1875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i5.jpg" alt="A Roman Incident"> +</figure> + +<p>Says Marcus +Aurelius to Fabius +Coralus:</p> + +<p>“It’s a pity we +couldn’t have +lived in the nineteenth +century instead of the first.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” says Fabius, “we have about +all that makes life pleasant as it is.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” replied Marcus. “We are favored +well, ’tis true; but just compare the +expense of buying a novel written by hand +on a papyrus roll with the ten-cent novels of +Street & Smith, to say nothing of the fact +that they would be so much handier to carry +around and easier on the eyes to read.”</p> + +<p>“True,” said Fabius, “that’s where the +nineteenth century people have got a great +thing, and they ought to appreciate it. I +wish I had one of those good novels +of theirs to read right now.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i6" style="max-width: 85.4375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i6.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Suffering more or less after eating a +meal, I consulted a doctor, and he told +me I ate too much veal and pork. +Once at a banquet I noticed a certain +doctor taking a tablet, and was told it +was a Ripans Tabule, so I started to +use them, and now I find that I can +eat anything without fear. I am glad +to recommend Ripans Tabules at all +times.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="small">WANTED:—A case of bad health that R·I·P·A·N·S will not benefit. Send five +cents to Ripans Chemical Co., No. 10 Spruce Street, New York, for 10 samples and +1,000 testimonials. R·I·P·A·N·S, 10 for 5 cents, or 12 packets for 48 cents, may be +had of all druggists who are willing to sell a standard medicine at a moderate profit. +They banish pain and prolong life. One gives relief. Note the word R·I·P·A·N·S +on the packet. Accept no substitute.</p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="A_specially_good_list_of"> + A specially good list of + <br> + <span class="large">DETECTIVE STORIES</span> + <br> + Are those by + <br> + <span class="medium">Barclay North</span> + <br> + In + <br> + <span class="medium">Street & Smith’s Magnet Library</span> + <br> + at the Right Price, 10c. + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="center medium u"> + <i>No. 90. On the Rack</i><br> + <i>No. 94. Vivier</i><br> + <i>No. 100. The Diamond Button</i> +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Realizing the merit of Mr. North’s work, we +have purchased all of his works, and propose +to issue them at short intervals in the Magnet +Library. We are maintaining the highest +possible standard for the Magnet as for all +our other series. If you want the best detective +stories ever written, you will find them +<i>only</i> in Street & Smith’s Magnet Library.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="center"> + <span class="medium">STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS</span><br> + NEW YORK +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i7" style="max-width: 87.5625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i7.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Have you ever used Ripans +Tabules?</p> + +<p>Yes, indeed! and they are perfectly +splendid. Haven’t you noticed +that I have red cheeks nowadays? +Well, that comes from +using Ripans.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="small">WANTED:—A case of bad health that R·I·P·A·N·S will not benefit. Send five +cents to Ripans Chemical Co., No. 10 Spruce Street, New York, for 10 samples and +1,000 testimonials. R·I·P·A·N·S, 10 for 5 cents, or 12 packets for 48 cents, may be +had of all druggists who are willing to sell a standard medicine at a moderate profit. +They banish pain and prolong life. One gives relief. Note the word R·I·P·A·N·S +on the packet. Accept no substitute.</p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="A_Well-dressed_Face"> + A Well-dressed Face + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Perhaps you like that yellow moustache, but we are +sure your friends do not.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you think your gray whiskers don’t tell how +old you are, but they do.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you have never noticed how a beautiful +brown or rich black adds to the moustache or whiskers, +but we have.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you would like a natural brown or black +dye for your whiskers and moustache, one that defies +detection.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you don’t know that</p> + +<hr> + +<p class="center">A beautiful brown or a rich black +always follows the use of</p> + +<p class="center large"><b>Buckingham’s Dye</b></p> + +<hr> + +<p>It isn’t a brown or black today, and then some miserable +color tomorrow. When dyed once it is dyed to +stay. Two, or three bottles at most, will keep the beard +and moustache colored for a whole year. You are the +only one aware of it when you use</p> + + +<p class="center large"><b>Buckingham’s</b></p> + +<p class="center"> + If your druggist cannot supply you, send 50 cents to<br> + <span class="smcap">R. P. Hall & Co.</span>, Nashua, N. H. +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i8" style="max-width: 93.5625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i8.jpg" alt="THE BEST-KNOWN SERIES OF + DETECTIVE STORIES IN THE WORLD + are those of + Nicholas Carter + +The only publishers who issue them are +STREET & SMITH, and they are to +be found in the + +Magnet Library + +at THE RIGHT PRICE + +TEN CENTS + + +For the benefit of the many admirers of these +grand books, we give herewith a complete list +of titles and numbers up to date (November +1, 1899), meanwhile we add a new book to the +list every third week"> +</figure> + + +<table> + <tr><td class="tdl">Accidental Password, An</td><td class="tdc">Magnet</td><td class="tdc">No.</td><td class="tdr">53</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> American Marquis, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">7</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Among the Counterfeiters </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">39</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Among the Nihilists </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">43</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> At Odds with Scotland Yard </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">49</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> At Thompson’s Ranch </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">56</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Australian Klondike, An </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">8</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Bite of an Apple, A, and Other Stories </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">105</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Caught in the Toils </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">14</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chance Discovery, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">19</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Check No. 777 </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">46</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Clever Celestial, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">75</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Crescent Brotherhood, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">83</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Crime of a Countess, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">5</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Dead Man’s Grip, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">85</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Deposit Vault Puzzle, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">21</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Detective’s Pretty Neighbor, and Other Stories </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">89</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Diamond Mine Case, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">71</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Double Shuffle Club, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">68</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Evidence by Telephone </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">23</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Fair Criminal, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">62</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Fighting Against Millions </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">11</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Found on the Beach </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">65</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Gamblers’ Syndicate, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">18</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Gideon Drexel’s Millions </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">99</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Great Enigma, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">2</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Great Money Order Swindle, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">91</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Harrison Keith, Detective </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">93</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Klondike Claim, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">1</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Man from India, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Millionaire Partner, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">59</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Mysterious Mail Robbery, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">13</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Nick Carter and the Green Goods Man </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">87</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Old Detective’s Pupil, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">10</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Piano Box Mystery, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">17</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Playing a Bold Game </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">12</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Puzzle of Five Pistols, The, and Other Stories </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">97</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Queer Case, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">103</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Sealed Orders </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">95</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Sign of the Crossed Knives, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">79</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Stolen Identity, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">9</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Stolen Pay Train, The, and Other Stories </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">101</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Titled Counterfeiter, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">3</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Tracked Across the Atlantic </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">4</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Two Plus Two </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">73</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Van Alstine Case, The </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">77</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Wall Street Haul, A </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">6</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Wanted by Two Clients </td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">81</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Woman’s Hand, A</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">16</td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="medium">Any of the above-mentioned books can be obtained +from nearly all newsdealers at 10 cents +per copy. Patronize the dealer if you can—if +not send 10 cents direct to the publishers.</p> + + +<p class="center medium"> + STREET & SMITH, 238 William St, New York +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="A_Conan_Doyle"> + A. Conan Doyle + </h2> +</div> + +<blockquote> + <i>It were superfluous to say more in regard + to the achievements of this great story + writer than to allude to the perfect clamor + of critical congratulation which greets + every new production of his pen.</i> +</blockquote> + +<p class="center large"><b>Now Offered 10 Cents</b></p> + +<p class="center"><i>in the Arrow Library</i></p> + +<hr> + +<h3><i>The White Company</i></h3> + +<blockquote> +<p>“This is a romance of the days of chivalry in Merrie England. +For vivid description, trenchant wit and historical glamour, +we have read nothing to equal it since ‘Ivanhoe.’”</p> +</blockquote> + +<h3><i>The Firm of Girdlestone</i></h3> + +<blockquote> +<p>“A startingly realistic novel of the world of business in the +metropolis of the universe, London. It is a fascinating book.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<h3><i>A Study in Scarlet</i></h3> + +<blockquote> +<p>“In this weird book the reader first meets that most fascinating +and incomprehensible character, Sherlock Holmes, the +detective. One had heard of him so much before, it is like +renewing an old and loved acquaintance.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<h3><i>Beyond the City</i></h3> + +<blockquote> +<p>“A simple recital of tragedy and mystery in English family +life. Written in the same style as this author’s other delightful +stories of Sherlock Holmes. ‘Beyond the City’ possesses the +magnetism which obliges complete perusal once the opening +chapter is read.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<h3><i>At the Sign of the Four</i></h3> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Herewith we behold again the wonderful detective work of +Sherlock Holmes in the tracing of crimes and criminals. Beyond +question, he is the greatest detective creation of any time or +language. The story is simply irresistible.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<hr> + +<p class="center"><i>For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, +postage free, on receipt of price, by the publishers</i></p> + +<p class="center medium">STREET & SMITH, New York</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="A_PARTIAL_LIST"> + A PARTIAL LIST + <br> + <span class="small">... OF ...</span> + <br> + <span class="large">STREET & SMITH’S BOOKS</span> + <br><br> + Including those published at <span class="medium">10 CENTS</span> in the <img style="height: 1em;" src="images/i9.jpg" alt=""> + <br><br> + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="medium u" style="margin-left: 33%"> + <i>Eagle, Arrow, Magnet,</i> +</p> +<p class="medium center u"> + <i>Medal, Columbia, Historical</i> +</p> +<p class="medium right u" style="margin-right: 33%;"> + <i>and Alliance Libraries</i> +</p> + +<div style="max-width: 60%; margin: auto;"> +<figure class="figleft illowe3" id="i10"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i10.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> +<p> + <i>Classified alphabetically by authors for</i><br> + <i>the better convenience of our patrons.</i> +</p> +<figure class="figright illowe3" id="i10a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i10.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> +<p class="right"> + <i>For sale by all newsdealers, or post-paid,</i><br> + <i>from the publishers at 10c. each.</i> +</p> +</div> +<figure class="figcenter illowe2_5" id="i11"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i11.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + + +<p class="center"><b> + <span class="medium">STREET & SMITH, Publishers</span><br> + 238 William Street, New York +</b></p> + + +<table> +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">ADAMS, O. L.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Detective’s Clew, The.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">66.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">ALLEN, GRANT</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">In All Shades.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">22.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">AUGUSTA, CLARA</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Nobody’s Daughter.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">127.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">BARRETT, FRANK</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Great Hesper, The.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">31.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">BARRIE, J. M.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Little Minister, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">96.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">Also a better edition. (Illustrated),</span></td><td class="tdc">Drama No.</td><td class="tdr">34.</td><td class="tdc">25c.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3" class="tdl"><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;">Also in cloth. (Six illustrations),</span></td><td class="tdc">50c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">BELOT, ADOLPHE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Tragedy of the Rue de la Paix, The.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">32.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">BOURGET, PAUL</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Living Lie, A.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">8.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">BULLEN, FRANK T.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Cruise of the Cachalot.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">78.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">BURGESS, NEIL</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">County Fair, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">60.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CAFFYN, MANNINGTON, author of “A Yellow Aster.”</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Miss Milne and I.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">44.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CAINE, HALL</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Bondman, The.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">73.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">She’s All the World to Me.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">2.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CAMERON, MRS. EMILY LOVETT</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Worth Winning.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">52.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CARTER, NICHOLAS</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Accidental Password, An.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">53.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">American Marquis, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">7.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Among the Counterfeiters.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">39.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Among the Nihilists.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">43.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">At Odds with Scotland Yard.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">49.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">At Thompson’s Ranch.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">56.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Australian Klondike, An.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">8.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Caught in the Toils.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">14.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Chance Discovery, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">19.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Check No 777.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">46.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Clever Celestial, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">75.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Crescent Brotherhood, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">83.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Crime of a Countess, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">5.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Dead Man’s Grip, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">85.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Deposit Vault Puzzle, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">21.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Detective’s Pretty Neighbor and Other Stories</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">89.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Diamond Mine Case, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">71.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Double Shuffle Club, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">68.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Evidence by Telephone.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">23.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Fair Criminal, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">62.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Fighting Against Millions.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">11.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Found on the Beach.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">65.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Gambler’s Syndicate, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">18.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Gideon Drexel’s Millions.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">99.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Great Enigma, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">2.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Great Money Order Swindle, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">91.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Harrison Keith, Detective</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">93.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Klondike Claim, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">1.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Man from India, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">50.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Millionaire Partner, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">59.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Mysterious Mail Robbery, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">13.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Nick Carter and the Green Goods Man.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">87.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Old Detective’s Pupil, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">10.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Piano Box Mystery, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">17.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Playing a Bold Game.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">12.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Puzzle of Five Pistols, The, and Other Stories.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">97.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sealed Orders.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">95.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sign of the Crossed Knives, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">79.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Stolen Identity, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">9.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Titled Counterfeiter, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">3.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Tracked Across the Atlantic.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">4.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Two Plus Two.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">73.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Van Alstine Case, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">77.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Wall Street Haul, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">6.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Wanted by Two Clients.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">81.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Woman’s Hand, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">16.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CLAY, BERTHA M.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Another Man’s Wife.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">48.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Another Woman’s Husband.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">42.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Between Two Hearts.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">84.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Fair but Faithless.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">102.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">For a Woman’s Honor.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">4.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Gipsy’s Daughter, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">11.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Gladys Greye.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">59.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Heart’s Bitterness, A.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">109.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Heart’s Idol, A.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">21.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Ideal Love, An.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">119.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">In Love’s Crucible.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">70.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Marjorie Deane.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">79.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">’Twixt Love and Hate.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">95.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Violet Lisle.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">14.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CLEMENS, WILL M.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Life of Admiral Dewey, The.</td><td class="tdc">Historical No.</td><td class="tdr">7.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">COBB, C. W.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">The Mountaineer Detective.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">40.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">COBB, SYLVANUS, Jr.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Ben Hamed.</td><td class="tdc">Columbia No.</td><td class="tdr">18.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Golden Eagle, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">19.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">King’s Talisman, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">21.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Yankee Champion, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">78.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">COLLINS, WILKIE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">My Lady’s Money.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">58.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">COMFORT, LUCY RANDALL</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Cecile’s Marriage.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">121.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Widowed Bride, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">86.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">CORELLI, MARIE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Ardath, Vol. I.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">26.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Ardath. Vol. II.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">27.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Romance of Two Worlds, A.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">18.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Thelma.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">55.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Vendetta.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">36.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Wormwood.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">47.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DARRELL, CHARLES</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">When London Sleeps.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">105.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DAUDET, ALFONSE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Jack.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">59.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Partners, The.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">67.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sappho.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">10.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DE GONCOURT, E. AND J.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Germinie Lacerteux.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">4.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DELPIT, ALBERT</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Coralie’s Son.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">35.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DENISON, MRS. MARY A.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Daughter of the Regiment, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">116.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DE PONT JEST, RENE.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">No. 13 Rue Marlot.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">96.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DE TINSEAU, LEON</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">His Fatal Vow or Sealed Lips.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">23.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DEY, MARMADUKE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Muertalma; or, the Poisoned Pin.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">58.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DONNELLY, H. GRATTAN</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Darkest Russia.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">94.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DOUGLAS, A. M.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Midnight Marriage, The.</td><td class="tdc">Eagle No.</td><td class="tdr">6.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DOYLE, A. CONAN</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Beyond the City.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">6.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Firm of Girdlestone, The.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">69.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sherlock Holmes’ Detective Stories, The.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">72.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Sign of the Four, The.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">17.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Study in Scarlet, A.</td><td class="tdc">Arrow No.</td><td class="tdr">3.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="4" class="tdc medium">DU BOISGOBEY, FORTUNE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">Blue Veil, The.</td><td class="tdc">Magnet No.</td><td class="tdr">44.</td><td class="tdc">10c.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Chevalier Casse Cou, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">63.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Convict Colonel, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">33.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Crime of the Opera House. The. Vol. I.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">35.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Crime of the Opera House, The. Vol. II.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">36.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">His Great Revenge. Vol. I.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">54.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">His Great Revenge. Vol. II.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">55.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Matapan Affair, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">38.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Red Camellia, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">64.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Red Lottery Ticket, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">31.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Steel Necklace, The.</td><td class="tdc">”</td><td class="tdr">27.</td><td class="tdc">”</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="transnote"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> + Transcriber’s Notes: + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>This novel is a translation of <i>La femme de cire : Mémoires d’un +détective</i> by René de Pont-Jest, the middle part of a trilogy about +detective William Dow. It was first serialized in the <i>Boston Globe</i> +from May 3 to June 11, 1884 under the title <i>The woman of wax; or, +Memoirs of a detective</i>. When reprinted in book form, the original +author’s name was omitted and only the translator received credit.</p> + +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistent hyphenation (e.g. bloodthirsty vs. blood-thirsty) has been +retained from the original.</p> + +<p>In a few places, paragraph breaks in conversations seem to be in +the wrong places. These instances are present in both the original +newspaper serial and the later book reprint, so they have been left +unmodified.</p> + +<p>The word “autonedon” is likely a typo for “automedon” but is reproduced +as printed in both the original newspaper series and the later book +reprint.</p> + +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78812 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78812-h/images/cover.jpg b/78812-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef25a54 --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i1.jpg b/78812-h/images/i1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f783ac --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i1.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i10.jpg b/78812-h/images/i10.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..87847b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i10.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i11.jpg b/78812-h/images/i11.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b1bc8f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i11.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i2.jpg b/78812-h/images/i2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83d132e --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i2.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i3.jpg b/78812-h/images/i3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..708ff05 --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i3.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i4.jpg b/78812-h/images/i4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5f5ecf --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i4.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i5.jpg b/78812-h/images/i5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..820203d --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i5.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i6.jpg b/78812-h/images/i6.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e4c5ae --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i6.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i7.jpg b/78812-h/images/i7.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ca013f --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i7.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i8.jpg b/78812-h/images/i8.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f6c80fd --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i8.jpg diff --git a/78812-h/images/i9.jpg b/78812-h/images/i9.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2cac2b --- /dev/null +++ b/78812-h/images/i9.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8bd1db7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #78812 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78812) |
