"At first Uncle Thomas showed lack of interest in Pierre's guarded talk. As the intimacy between the two grew closer, Pierre relaxed much of his secretive caution. Over their glasses Uncle Thomas and Pierre seemed to compete with each other in tales of villainous performances. When Pierre grew unusually confidential, and touched on Calcutta or London crimes, Uncle Thomas would show signs of approval, but sometimes appeared to caution his guest against indiscreet revelations. After relating some horrible yarns about his own successes in amassing fabulous wealth and merciless crushing of all who impededhim in such schemes, Uncle Thomas would say:
"'It is not proper for me to enjoin secrecy. I know you will never betray a friend's trust.'
"Pierre grows more confidential. He boasts of having acquired vast interests in Calcutta and India. With some changes, he tells about his heartless persecution, under friendly guise, of a slow-witted, unsuspecting, rich Englishman, a former associate in large business enterprises.
"Having induced this partner to make some large cash advances upon collaterals, and himself received the bulk of the money, he then brought about a crisis in which the Englishman required much ready funds. When, through Pierre's scheme, it became impossible for the partner to tide over such shortage, a Shylock accomplice, upon most grinding terms, advanced from cash formerly loaned by Pierre's unsuspecting victim a sufficient sum briefly to postpone the accounting. When the debts matured, payment was demanded. The helpless debtor made frantic attempts to raise the money, but failed.
"These pledged collaterals had been turned over to the last money-lender, but in reality to Pierre Lanier, who claimed to have lost them in a recent robbery.
"The creditor was obdurate, threatening legal proceedings to enforce his claims. Pierre enlargedupon the probability that all his partner's personal estate, if sold under the hammer, would not pay these debts. His business associate then would be worse than penniless. He induced the frantic debtor to deed him all real property except a small parcel in London, promising to sell at advantage, pay the claims, and faithfully account for the residue.
"After the deed had been delivered, Pierre induced this accomplice to threaten his harassed victim with arrest for fraud and conspiracy in thus disposing of all property.
"Under guise of friendly adviser, Pierre appeared much worried over his partner's troubles. He magnified the impending disgrace of bankruptcy and imprisonment.
"The proud, sensitive debtor, after a few days' hopeless worry, goaded by threats, made desperate through Pierre's crafty, hypocritical sympathy and deceitful insinuations, was found in the river.
"This partner had one child, a girl, who afterward died. There had been attempts to deprive Pierre of this property, which was now of great value. All adverse claims had been quieted. The shares of stock had advanced and dividends were regular. From the proceeds he and Paul were insured luxurious living and large, increased incomes, with swelling bank credits.
"At times Pierre would seem to repent of his confidences and to plan against discovery by some adroit qualifications, but Uncle Thomas eased all concern by saying:
"'Oh, that's all right! I am deeper in the pool than you.'
"Whenever Pierre told of these exploits, the assistant was listening. Uncle Thomas kept his promise to act as eavesdropper during Paul's calls.
"After both Pierre and Paul had confided many of the facts of their criminal conspiracy and other offenses, Uncle Thomas told me that he purposed taking a trip to Calcutta. Thus might be learned details of what Pierre had suggested but ingeniously disguised. Perhaps, if we went together, the Laniers might grow suspicious. He would not leave me in Bombay if I feared to remain. I could limit Paul's calls to suit myself, and that assistant would be at my service.
"Trembling at the thought of being alone in Bombay, Uncle Thomas far off in Calcutta, and the Laniers making frequent calls, I felt desolate at the outlook. He guessed at my emotions, and said:
"'Just say the word, little girl, and Uncle Tom stays!'
"I then advised him to go alone, but to return as soon as possible.
"Upon hearing of uncle's intentions, Pierre concluded to sail for Calcutta at the same time. Learning that I purposed remaining in Bombay, Paul decided that he did not care then to take another sea voyage.
"Uncle Thomas was gratified at both conclusions. He could use Pierre in Calcutta, and though it good to separate these rascals for a while.
"I felt much relieved that but one of these dreaded foes would remain in Bombay during uncle's absence. Uncle Thomas and Pierre Lanier sailed together.
"Paul made frequent calls. By practicing all sorts of capricious humors, I sought to smother feelings of dread and aversion, but at times became so interested in these deceitful practices and in watching their effects upon Paul as to forget former persecutions. While thus absorbed, it often seemed that the past had been but a cruelly delusive dream. It could not be that the soft, insinuating tones of Paul Lanier masked such base, bloody purposes. Those bejeweled fingers, tremulously eager to caress, surely were not those of a red-handed murderer! Yet if my wiles succeeded, those hands would wear manacles, those fingers convulsively clutch at vacancy, and that musical voice choke with tense strain of the hangman's knot.
"At such times pity would unnerve my strong resolve, but Paul's realistic repetitions of his crimes dispelled such illusions, and I again aspired to be a scheming, determined Nemesis, aided by lure of woman's craft.
"Some time before uncle's return I had received a letter stating when he would sail, but did not tell Paul until after his arrival in Bombay. Then, with assumed glee, I informed him that uncle had left Calcutta and within a week would be back. His letter was cheerful, and he seemed to be very happy. I requested him to defer again calling for two days.
"Paul called on Thursday evening.
"Uncle Thomas, that assistant, and I had prepared a great surprise.
"I often had noticed that Paul was very superstitious, fearful of unreal dangers. It occurred to me that a scare would be suitable entertainment for Paul's last visit. Uncle Thomas had planned our departure from Bombay for Calcutta on the next steamer. The vessel would sail on Friday morning, and our passage already had been engaged. We would go aboard soon after midnight, and the ship was to sail in the early morning.
"I chose a tableau for Paul. Aided by Uncle Thomas and that assistant, the performance was staged. During that day there had been tworehearsals. That assistant manipulated the lights. Uncle Thomas had produced a copy ofLondon Presscontaining a graphic account of the Thames drownings. This he ornamented with heavy red headlines. The paper is lying on a small table in uncle's room.
"Dressed in that Thames clothing, over which hangs a draping of seaweed, my hair combed back from the temples, I await Paul's evening call.
"With loaded pistols Uncle Thomas occupies my room. Fully armed, the assistant is hiding in the folding wardrobe.
"The house-servant is directed to admit any male caller into the room usually occupied by Sir Charles Chesterton.
"The bell is soon rung, and Paul is ushered according to directions.
"Pouring over my head a pitcher of warm water, daubing the temple scar with thin, red liquid paint, from darkened room I watch Paul through slightly open connecting door, which has been effectively braced against pressure from that side.
"Paul picks up the paper, glares frightfully, turns deathly pale, and shakes with fear.
"Just then, with uplifted hand, I slowly enter, approaching Paul as if to strike him down. Paul falls upon the floor, begging me to spare him.
"Slowly stepping backward, and passing into the next room, I softly close the connecting door. Quickly slipping off the disguise, removing the paint-stains and arranging my hair, I recite parts of a poem about Eugene Aram, then light the gas and say something about Mr. Lanier being late. Paul opens the connecting door, and I explain how the mistake occurred.
"Paul seems satisfied, but nervous. He remains longer than usual, appearing afraid to leave. As midnight is near, I assume a listless air of indifference. Paul takes the hint, and goes.
"Shortly afterward, two vehicles drive up. Trunks are first taken, accompanied by that assistant sleuth. Disguised in suit of his clothes, I enter the other conveyance. Uncle Thomas soon follows. In a short time after bidding Paul Lanier good-night, I was asleep aboard the steamer, and did not awake until miles at sea."
Sir Donald intently had listened to that part of the girl's narrative about the trip from London to Southampton, and thence to Bombay. His wonder and admiration grew with her frank, dramatic, yet timid recital of tactics employed to elicit incriminating clews from the secretive Laniers. Alice had shown marked heroism remaining alone at Bombay, and in her strange treatment of the infatuated Paul. These experiences had left an indelible impress upon Alice,whose confiding sincerity and generous impulsiveness always must bear effects of the shock, but that tableau and recital revealed a tragic craft foreign to such a nature, bordering the verge of madness.
How under pressure intense natures evolve new traits and latent powers become dominant!
Seeing that Sir Donald seemed in a reverie, Alice awaited invitation to proceed. Her face bore such a weary, questioning look that he proposed that they join Esther and Charles. To this Alice nervously objected, saying:
"I ought to see Uncle Thomas."
Sir Donald then suggested that she see her uncle, and that both dine with his family. Alice objected with some energy, closing with these words:
"Not until my whole story is told will I meet Esther or your son."
Sir Donald admired the commendable deference and spirit of the girl's sentiments. It was then arranged that on the following day Alice would finish her story.
The next afternoon the recital is continued.
"Though the trip from Bombay to Calcutta was rough, I felt great relief. The strain since arrival at Bombay had been fearful. Sitting on deck, gently swaying with the ship's motion, watching seabirds, looking at approaching squallsor tossing in stress of tropic storms, proved a restful quiet for my fevered consciousness. Such change reversed the whole current of thought, driving away the awful past. Neither Lanier would harass me on this journey.
"Uncle Thomas left his old-time assistant at Bombay to shadow Paul. Arrangements to communicate with each other had been made. If Paul should quit Bombay, that assistant would be on the same vessel. We surmised that Paul would join his father at Calcutta.
"On board ship, Uncle Thomas and I assumed new disguises. In Calcutta we were known as father and daughter.
"Later Uncle Thomas often met Pierre Lanier, but himself remained unknown.
"Soon after our arrival, that assistant landed at Calcutta and reported to Uncle Thomas. Paul and he came from Bombay on the same ship.
"After the tenants left, Paul had called at Chesterton apartments. To his questions the family could give no satisfactory information. Paul seemed much worried over the removal of Agnes Randall. He received a letter and awaited departure of next steamer for Calcutta.
"Paul engaged passage and was booked as 'Josiah Peters.' He was disguised as an old man, with stooping walk and white, flowing beard.
"Uncle Thomas continued his investigationsof Calcutta property interests formerly owned by my father, but gained little further information.
"Both Pierre and Paul were closely watched. Uncle enlisted the head of Calcutta police department to help shadow these men and to keep him advised of their conduct. From him uncle learned that you and Esther were there. You had been making search and inquiry for the Dodge family. In hopes to gain helpful clews and to keep posted as to exact condition of other investigations of Lanier crimes, that assistant shadowed you and Esther. At the same time Uncle Thomas and the police watched the Laniers.
"The assistant was a slim, dark-complexioned, trim man, with black close-cut whiskers and heavy mustache, but posed as an old, shabbily dressed fellow, with halting gait, gray hair, and snow-white beard, moving feebly by aid of a cane.
"Pierre had been traced to a cabin in a poor part of the city, where lived a needy woman with a family of small children. The Laniers inquired about the probable time when a certain vessel was expected, and haunted the landing. Night of the ship's arrival both visited this cabin and afterward saw passengers go ashore. One of these followed Pierre."
Alice now told about the Laniers and this stranger going to that deserted house in citysuburb; how Pierre and Paul again called at the cabin, and of visit from veiled woman next day at that old house. Unexpected swoop of police and arrest of the three men followed. The stranger was William Dodge, and veiled caller his wife. As Sir Donald knew these facts, she would not relate them, further than to explain some things which he might wish to know.
"Aided by Calcutta police, Uncle Thomas closely watched every movement of the Laniers, while his assistant shadowed you and Esther.
"Through you the police official learned that William Dodge was expected on the next steamer, and about his being in danger from these villains. In the same way the proposed meeting in that deserted house was discovered.
"Precautions against assaults upon Mr. and Mrs. Dodge were taken.
"Uncle Thomas and his assistant thought the time had come for a bold move. By arresting both Laniers and William Dodge the whole conspiracy would be confessed. William Dodge would accuse the Laniers, and they would implicate him. With Paul's and Pierre's Bombay confidences, corroborated by Dodge's expected confession, conviction of the Laniers would follow. William Dodge would explain that in bringing the London suit he was only a pliant tool of the Laniers, and they would blame all on him.Then he would retaliate by telling about the Thames murders. These recriminations, the vague Bombay confessions, supplemented by other facts already known, and further information obtainable through such powerful clews, would unravel the whole web of criminal connivance, bringing both Pierre and Paul to strict account."
Alice then told of the tactics employed, William Dodge's Calcutta confession, and the Lanier reserve. Dodge had no actual knowledge of Paul's assaults upon Alice and Oswald, but related what he knew of the circumstances. He fully explained his and Lanier complicity in bringing the suit, with all after procedure in the action, including its dismissal.
Alice narrated some parts of this confession, which agreed with that formerly made in Paris hospital by William Dodge. It was full, but disappointing.
"Strenuous efforts to induce the Laniers to talk were fruitless. They made no responses. We surmised that neither cared to assert his rights by demanding a hearing or trial. They were kept jailed several weeks, in expectation of some revelations. At last the officers and Uncle Thomas decided to turn them loose, but still to keep William Dodge in custody. Thus might Lanier conduct be observed without danger ofthis important witness being spirited away or forever silenced.
"William Dodge himself did not protest against his continued imprisonment.
"For a few days Pierre and Paul nervously moved about in Calcutta, and then quit the city.
"That assistant left at the same time, and following them to different points, reaches London, lodging across an alley, in full view of the basement stairway leading to the room occupied by Pierre and Paul.
"For a long time after the Laniers sailed, Uncle Thomas and I remained in Calcutta.
"Letters telling of Lanier movements came from that assistant to Uncle Thomas. Then during the following weeks nothing was heard. We began to worry, fearing some accident had happened. Perhaps he had fallen victim to Lanier vengeance. This would be most unfortunate for me. Sufficient facts already had been discovered upon which to base actions against Pierre Lanier for frauds upon the estate of my father, and for that London conspiracy involving the suit begun by William Dodge. I could not think of such notoriety until the Thames assaults and murder were cleared, and never would risk public scandal among friends in London.
"These were the motives inducing uncle toadvise that Pierre and Paul be released from Calcutta imprisonment. Too, the murder of Oswald Langdon must be avenged."
Sir Donald smiled at Alice's earnest explanations, but awaited her story's ending.
"At length came a letter from London informing Uncle Thomas of Lanier arrivals and shadowings by his old-time helper. We soon after sailed for England. Full details were given by that assistant, and with much zeal Uncle Thomas resumed his former work.
"Much of the time I kept out of public view, lodging at the obscure inn.
"Pierre seldom left the basement room at night, but Paul then made many strange excursions, often prowling up and down the Thames.
"The assistant began to notice queer freaks in Paul's conduct. The first evidences of these were after their return to London.
"The reports startled me, as it seemed Paul feared I yet might rise from the river, and that he was determined to prevent it. Many nights Paul would skulk along the river-banks and peer over into the Thames from the place where we had been struck into the stream. Later he took boat-rides up and down the river, past this spot, closely scrutinizing projecting shrubs until opposite the rustic seat, when, rowing back and forth across the river, Paul would pause and strike atsome reflection from the water, then be seated and drift downstream.
"As these incidents were related by that assistant and Uncle Thomas, I felt horrible dread. This craze of Paul's seemed almost a judgment upon my head. Such determined malice against the girl he had slain, yet feared still might rise from her slimy grave, was beyond belief, yet I could not doubt the evidences. My curiosity was increased, and I felt a strong desire to witness Paul's new infatuation. In male disguise I watched from hiding some of this madman's night performances upon and along the river.
"Though at first dreadfully shocked and nearly dead with fright, my curiosity grew with each watch. Uncle Thomas refused longer indulgence, except at rare intervals.
"Before our arrival at London that assistant had followed Paul to Northfield.
"Paul's conduct there had been strange, but he seemed desirous of learning the whereabouts of you and Esther.
"Later, Paul again visited Northfield, and I witnessed some of his actions. Uncle Thomas, the assistant, and I were hidden in thick shrubbery near the spot where Northfield visitors often sat along the lake. Paul had been skulking through the woods, but could not see us. Between us and him was that steep ravine. SuddenlyPaul struck a tragic pose, lifted his right hand, advanced a few steps, then slowly stepped backward out of sight beyond a cluster of bushes.
"These movements, though very startling, were followed by still greater surprises.
"Soon out of leafy stillness came quotations from that poem partly declaimed by me at Bombay.
"Such utterances at that time and place from this crazed outlaw, reiterated with madman's unction, were horrible.
"After repetition of phrases, 'buried from my sight,' 'and trodden down with stones,' Paul hesitated, as if pondering the improbability of such fate to his victims' mortal remains; then broke out in a hysterical laugh.
"I was eager, and prompted:
"'And years have rotted off his flesh,'
"Paul turned, facing that way, uttered terrible curses, gave a crazed yell of fear, and stood staring into vacancy, when in deep gutturals I repeated:
"'The world shall see his bones.'
"At this Paul staggered, made wild thrusts with his dagger in direction whence came these promptings, and then fled.
"On the next train, watched by that assistant, Paul returned to London.
"Uncle Thomas and I saw you with Estherrowing upon the lake. This was just after Paul's flight. Until then we did not know of your return from Calcutta.
"I felt a growing interest in Paul's Thames tableaus. One night Uncle Thomas allowed me to watch with him along the river-bank. Paul takes his usual row up the Thames. We are hiding in some shrubbery beyond the rustic seat. Paul's boat arrives opposite that point in the river, and he repeats former performances.
"After steadying the boat with an oar, holding in set teeth that gleaming dagger, moving back and forth across the river, peering over at watery reflections, and making savage thrusts, Paul is again seated, drifting down the stream.
"Uncle Thomas and I are following, when another spy emerges from a cluster of bushes farther down, keeping slightly in rear of the boat, a short distance from shore.
"Uncle and I are a few feet apart. I am ahead. Both of us are eager, but cautious. The grass and bushes rustle, but that spy is too intent for hearing or fear. The chase grows exciting.
"Drifting around a curve, the boat is out of sight. That stranger runs forward, trips and falls on the river's brink. I was alarmed, as it seemed sure that this man would fall into the current. I paused at the edge of leafy foliage. To my relief the fallen man recovers his footing.Giving a look to where I stood partly concealed, he hurries on, badly limping, as if in pain. Uncle Thomas signaled me to keep back, and we followed cautiously at greater distance, but soon after lost sight of this limping spy.
"I was nearly exhausted with the chase. Just before reaching the point of starting, we rested over an hour, and then went to the inn.
"Next day that assistant told of both Pierre and Paul having spent most of the night away from their room. Contrary to custom, Pierre went out first. A few minutes afterward, Paul left, starting in an opposite direction from that taken by his father. Puzzled at this change in Lanier habits, and fearing some new flight, the assistant followed, but soon losing sight of Paul, returned to watch that cellar stairway.
"After midnight, Paul came back. Limping around the corner, faint and exhausted, hours later, Pierre staggered down the stairs.
"We were then sure this spy was Pierre Lanier, who for the first time had witnessed Paul's Thames infatuation. This was confirmed later by Pierre's limping walk.
"It became apparent to Uncle Thomas and his assistant that other shadowings were occurring. Spies upon their actions, as well as those of the Laniers, watched regular shifts. They suspected that in some way you were responsible for this,but doubted that you had any hint of their identity.
"Another discreet helper was employed by Uncle Thomas, to report any interesting happenings at Northfield.
"That you visited London and called at a detective agency was reported. This helper followed you back to Northfield, and reported Charles Randolph's return from abroad. Later the same spy followed your son to London, and told Uncle Thomas at what hotel Charles stopped.
"In slight disguise we quit the inn, going to this hotel, and with but short absences remaining until I was recognized by you and Esther.
"It was known to us that Charles helped shadow the Laniers, often calling at the same detective agency formerly visited by you.
"Both Uncle Thomas and I had noticed that Charles seemed interested in us, but we attributed this to possible detection of our guarded observations of his actions. I sometimes wondered at Charles's interest, fearing that possibly he suspected my identity. At meals this feeling embarrassed me, but Uncle Thomas insisted on our dining at the same time, when he could watch Charles's actions.
"To me it often seemed strange that persons planning for like ends, engaged in similar work to right human wrongs and to punish the guilty,should spy upon each other, scheming and operating at cross-purposes. I hardly could refrain from appealing to Charles to help in my troubles, and from the first was sure he would be such a good, faithful friend. Why should not you, Charles, and Esther become my confidential allies, helping us to unravel this web? I hinted this to Uncle Thomas, who would not think of such a 'rash break.'
"Later on, for a few days, we stopped at the inn.
"It had been reported that Paul was showing quarrelsome traits, and at any time might commit some murderous assault. These agency sleuths had become troublesome, hampering Uncle Thomas in his determined watches upon Lanier conduct. Through competing zeal at any time might occur some unfortunate clash. Those agency employes were argus-eyed, watching each move made by him and his assistants. Doubtless the man sent by Uncle Thomas to Northfield was being shadowed and his doings were reported to agency headquarters.
"For these reasons Uncle Thomas decided that we would return to that obscure inn. This change was made at a late hour, and I went alone. Uncle Thomas left before, and by a long route reached the ambush beyond the rustic seat.
"Next morning he reported that Paul did notappear. Calling at the cabin where that old-time assistant kept watch, Uncle Thomas learned that early the previous evening Paul left, but had not returned. Pierre was in the basement room.
"The following night Uncle Thomas watched along the river, but again was disappointed. Next morning he called upon that assistant, but finding the door securely fastened, returned and slept a few hours. In the afternoon he again called, but could obtain no response.
"That night Uncle Thomas resumed his watch along the Thames. He saw Pierre Lanier prowling up and down the river, followed by that same assistant. Next morning Pierre inquired of police officials as to any arrests made within the last two days and nights. He then returned to the basement room, trailed by that assistant and Uncle Thomas.
"Pierre had gone out the previous morning, during all that day and the following night searching for Paul. The third night after Paul's disappearance was spent by Pierre along the river, trailed as before. Next day Pierre did not return to his room until afternoon.
"In the early evening a letter came by special messenger to Uncle Thomas at the inn. It was from that helper at Northfield, stating that Paul Lanier was then skulking about in the timber along the lake. On the previous night Paul hadbeen close to the Northfield mansion grounds, but evidently became aware that a sentinel was on guard. Paul surely meditated mischief, but the writer thought sufficient precautions against surprise had been taken by Sir Donald Randolph.
The contents of this letter, with knowledge of Paul's crafty malice and murderous zeal, greatly alarmed me. It seemed that ordinary watchfulness would not avail against Paul's crazed, homicidal mania. If you or Esther fell a victim to Paul's knife, it would be chargeable to your friendship for me. Was it right that through acquiescence in any mode of procedure advised by others I should permit such friends to be ruthlessly butchered by a madman?
"To Uncle Thomas I told my fears, but he thought there was little danger to any one at Northfield through Paul's crazy breaks.
"'For months this insane wretch has been a harmless lunatic, practicing his night tableaus through some purposeless infatuation.'
"With this remark he dismissed the subject, but went out, secured a cab, and drove to that cabin across the alley from the Lanier room. The assistant was directed to take the first train for Northfield, and keep close watch of Paul's every act. Uncle Thomas remained at the cabin.
"After uncle went out I still felt nervous anda strong presentiment that peril hung over the Randolph household. With each effort to think of other things, this feeling grew stronger. There was something so awful as to overpower all habitual obedience to Uncle Thomas.
"I thought of Charles Randolph. Perhaps Charles was at the hotel, unconscious of dangers threatening those he loved. Without any plan of action I caught up the veil presented at London by Uncle Thomas, sped from my room, hailed a passing cabman, urging him to drive fast to that hotel. Going at once to the room occupied by Charles Randolph, I knocked, and was admitted. On the way there I had thought out a mode of broaching the subject to Charles and of hiding my identity, but when in his presence this all became blank, and some other things were said. He promised to go home at once, and I returned to the inn.
"I did not tell Uncle Thomas about this call. He remained at that cabin all night, the next day, and until the following morning.
"I called at the cabin. Uncle Thomas told me that Paul was in London. This seemed strange, but he explained that there was an early morning train from station near the Northfield premises. Paul doubtless came back, on that train, and reached the room before daylight. That day neither Paul nor Pierre was seen on thestreet. My uncle closely watched the basement room.
"On early morning train of the following day both assistants came from Northfield and hurried to that old cabin. They explained Paul's assault on a guard at entrance to the Northfield mansion grounds and the murder of the sentinel.
"Uncle Thomas acted promptly. He went out and called up a prominent police official, notifying him to bring help and arrest two desperate villains.
"The three men waited at the entrance to that old stairway until five police officials appeared.
"Listening at the basement door, these heard scuffling inside, curses, and suppressed yells. Then all noises ceased. There was no response to continued knockings. The door yielded to pressure, and the officials entered.
"With dirty, blood-stained clothing, hair disheveled, and face begrimed, froth upon his lips, lay Paul upon the stone floor. Across Paul's breast was Pierre, pale and motionless.
"At first both were thought dead. It was soon discovered that Pierre had only swooned. Water was dashed upon his face. He revived and stared about vacantly. Slowly what had happened dawned upon his mind, but he seemed stupid, saying nothing.
"Pierre intently gazed at Paul's unconsciousform, but looked blank when questioned by the officials.
"THEN BEHOLDING PIERRE IRONED AND HELPLESS, PAUL BURST OUT IN A HYSTERICAL LAUGH.""THEN BEHOLDING PIERRE IRONED AND HELPLESS, PAUL BURST OUT IN A HYSTERICAL LAUGH."
"After some time Paul showed signs of returning consciousness, slowly revived, and seeing his captors, became furious. Then beholding Pierre ironed and helpless, Paul burst out in a hysterical laugh, which was followed by frantic appeals for protection against his father's imagined wrath. Both were taken to prison.
"For various reasons Uncle Thomas then had procured the arrests. As news of that Northfield murder came through his agents, it was his duty to inform the proper officials. For months he and his employes had shadowed both Laniers, witnessing Paul's crazed acts, and it was known that they had done this. These assistants were in the immediate neighborhood of Northfield when this murder occurred. It would be inquired, why such continued shadowings, yet failure to prevent this crime? The whole matter would be thoroughly probed. This murder could not be concealed without guilty responsibility. Proof of Oswald Langdon's death was not conclusive. It never might be clearer with Paul hung or in a madhouse. If we had taken proper action to restrain this madman, the murder never would have occurred. Better to take decisive steps and assist the officers than appear to condone crime. All we had planned and worked forwould fare better through prompt procedure. Possibly out of this very tangle might come clearance of the unhappy, troubled past.
"Such motives prompted Uncle Thomas to decisive action in procuring these second arrests of Pierre and Paul Lanier.
"Just how or when my part in this drama is to be revealed neither Uncle Thomas nor I yet have decided. I greatly dread the trial.
"At times I seem standing, dizzy, bewildered, and speechless, upon the brink of a yawning chasm. Then appears a light beyond, beckoning me to try the plunge.
"Occasionally, in day-dreams, a hand, not spectral, but inspiringly real and familiar, seems drawing me toward new earthly life and joy; but such fancies are fleeting. The old dread of social ostracism and of suspicious aversion returns with increased power. I have no consciousness of wrong-doing, yet maidenly ideals have been shocked by my conduct, and the place for Alice Webster is outside the pale of social recognition.
"Afternoon of the day upon which occurred the arrests Uncle Thomas decided again to move. To show no attempt at privacy, we returned to the hotel. Both of us were surprised to see your family in the dining-room.
"Uncle Thomas could act unconcerned under any circumstances, but I felt so helplessly embarrassed.As you and Esther looked so intently I was sure you saw through that simple disguise. A sense of shame at such conduct made me faint and heartsick. To escape this I quit the table, going to my room. Soon after, through the open connecting door, I saw you and Uncle Thomas enter, and then knew a crisis had come.
"Uncle Thomas related what you had said, and I was greatly puzzled. Your reasons for not promising to keep his proposed confidences then and ever since seemed unaccountable. He advised that we return to the inn, there to await clearing of increasing difficulties.
"What since occurred you well know. I hope to be forgiven for all my strange, unmaidenly conduct. The very worst has been told, except that words can never tell the painful experiences and sorrowful memories of the unhappy past."
Pausing, Alice gave a look of questioning appeal into the expressive, sympathetic face of Sir Donald Randolph. He seemed struggling with some unwonted emotional impediment to proper speech. Rising, he extended his hand, took that of this interesting young woman, and bowing low, in a husky voice said:
"Make no apologies, Alice! You are all right."
Alice felt much relieved, but the strain had been great. For a while she leaned back in wearied collapse.
Sir Donald suggested that she await her uncle, while he saw his family. After the evening meal, he would esteem it a favor to have all meet at Esther's room.
This invitation was accepted.
Sir Donald notified Thomas Webster that Alice awaited him, adding:
"What a grand girl!"
Oswald awakes early upon his first morning in New York. The significance of present surroundings dawns upon his mind. He is in the metropolis of that country about which so much had been written, told, and dreamed.
What vistas of destiny since that protest and affirmation received the sword's decisive arbitrament! With what sense of opportune occasion these two kindred nations are surely drawing toward that "modus vivendi," tentatively flexible, yet more potential, responsive, and insistent than treaty covenants, "triple alliances," or proscribed "spheres of influence."
But how capricious fate's fast-loose antics with individual destiny!
Not with complacent retrospect and cleared prospective does this intensely impressionable Englishman stand at the threshold of a new world's view.
That complex web remains intact, the dead lifts unavailing hands, justice is laggard, while the name of Langdon shrinks from pending odium.
Springing up, he soon descends to the hotel office. After breakfast he writes that promised letter. Not knowing anything of Sir Donald Randolph's present address or plans, Oswald writes him at Paris.
Being very curious as to the Lanier affair, and to avoid delay, he addresses copies to Calcutta and to Sir Donald's Northfield station. The letter is brief, announcing his safe arrival at New York, intention to remain until some report comes from Sir Donald, and explaining that similar copies will be mailed to each of places named. He would mail and receive all letters at the general postoffice. No reference is made to the Laniers, as he knows Sir Donald will not need such reminder.
That day Oswald remained at the hotel. The notes of a trained orchestra charmed his musical sense, while sight of superbly clad, richly bejeweled hotel guests was interesting diversion.
Next morning he dined at a restaurant near the corner of Thirty-third Street and Broadway. Taking an elevated Sixth Avenue car, he rides to Park Place, thence walking to the postoffice and mailing his three letters. This important move now made, he is ready for sight-seeing.
Standing by the statue of that young patriot whose life was so freely offered upon Freedom'saltar, Oswald marveled at such unselfish infatuation as found voice in words:
"I regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."
Crossing to other side of Broadway, he narrowly escapes collision with an electric car. From the irritated conductor comes:
"Well, chump, you are just off of grass!"
This cheerful compliment is followed by another, more pointedly suggestive, from a wag who calls out:
"Indade yez a bloody jude from owld Loondin, but yez betther moind yer own way, or the polace will copper yez shoor!"
For a few moments the "modus vivendi" is much strained, but Oswald quickly recovers his self-control, and slowly strolls down street, pausing at St. Paul's Chapel.
Having read the chiseled memorial of that American officer who fell in attack upon Quebec, Oswald passes on, turning at Trinity Church into Wall Street.
When at the corner of Nassau, he stands for a few moments in front of the Sub-Treasury Building, looking up at the statue of America's first executive.
This heroic figure is fitting impersonation of successful revolt against oppressive exactions.
Oswald's sense of antithesis pictures in somberbackground that doomed spy hurried to his fate, and another swinging, strangling shape expiating through hangman's device the proven crime of "high treason."
Such diversions are not conducive to cheerful reverie. His spirits droop lower under the clammy handicap. Memory of those greetings from petulant conductor and guying wag again intrudes.
Oswald is nearly opposite the Custom-House when just before him that newsboy shrieks:
"All about the murder of a young girl! Body found in the river! Police on track of the murderer!"
Tragic memories of those eventful years, augmented by petty, suggestive, yet meaningless recent affronts, shaded by somber-hued reveries, congest about the center of Oswald's sensitive consciousness at the parrot-like yell of a child.
Thought that past concealments and identity known, he now is closely trailed by New York police for the crime of Paul Lanier rouses Oswald's fighting temper to fierce heat.
There is no doubt that under such momentary emotional pressure this guiltless fugitive then would have incurred homicidal accounting by resisting to the death any attempted arrest.
Little Jack's fright at that awful stare was natural.
The scared newsboy again resumes his stereotyped yell at corner of Nassau and Wall Streets.
Oswald had turned back, intending to procure a paper and learn about this reported murder. Returning to Trinity Church, he sees the boy, farther down on opposite side of Broadway, waiting pay for copy then so tenaciously gripped by that careful old financier, who had insisted upon assurance of positive "rigor mortis" as condition precedent to purchase.
Oswald starts across in direct line to where these are standing. At sight of Oswald, little Jack, speedily waiving payment, cuts across Broadway, down Exchange Alley, where he jostles reveries of that brass-buttoned official, and, through official duress, pilots him back to the street. Here Michael Patrick O'Brien hastily fits Jack's description of Oswald to that dazed old man, whom he pompously arrests and valiantly escorts toward "Old Slip" police station.
At a distance of a few rods, Oswald had watched the whole proceeding, and followed, curious to learn cause of the arrest.
Sight of that "willanous-lookin' rascal" still trailing him causes Jack to sidle over Broadway, and ignoring Michael's loud command, disappear at the next crossing.
Oswald concluded that there must be somemistake about this arrest. The man's conduct had appeared void of all criminal intent. The boy seemed to shun Oswald himself, through some unaccountable aversion. Probably the policeman's zeal had caused a serious blunder. The little fellow's strange scare, with hasty, ill-advised official action, resulted in arrest and possible detention of this harmless old gentleman.
Oswald paused to reflect. Why should he concern himself, in a strange land, about such an affair? This mistake soon would be righted. For Oswald to show any interest or make inquiries, might lead to complications. What if he should be required to testify? His real name, former home, and antecedents might be asked. These must be given or he would be committed for contempt. Better not to meddle with this matter.
Oswald boards a Broadway car and gets off at Thirty-third Street. Going to his room, he ponders over the incidents of that morning absence. Recollections of his conduct are not pleasant. The experiences were annoying, but only his own action seems blameworthy. In some way he was responsible for the circumstances leading to arrest of that feeble old man, yet made no explanation or protest. What an initiative in a new world was such selfish, unfeelingdiscretion! Why hope for exalted aid in his own troubles, while shirking opportunity to help the helpless?
Oswald left the hotel, returning to corner of Wall Street and Broadway. Inquiring of a shop-keeper, "Where are persons arrested in this neighborhood taken by the police?" he receives the answer:
"To police precinct station No. 2."
Going there, Oswald asks about an old man, that morning arrested on Broadway, near Trinity Church.
No such prisoner had been brought to that station.
He learns there will be a session of police court that afternoon at the new Criminal Court Building. The prisoner will be there for arraignment.
Oswald takes the elevated train to Franklin Street, goes over to this building, and awaits opening of that afternoon's session.
Looking about the court-room, he sees that same innocent-appearing old chap, still expostulating with his stern captor, who soothes him with the assurance:
"Yez will warble a different chune at Sing Sing!"
Oswald decides to await the court's action in this case before making any explanations. Possiblyno interference may be necessary. He observes that the newsboy is not present.
For over two hours Oswald listens to the proceedings of this tribunal. The docket is cleared of many trivial cases, and more serious matters are sent to the Special or General Sessions.
All this seems strangely offhand and informal, but he reasons that such, being of daily occurrence, sentimental scruples are in natural abeyance.
Michael Patrick O'Brien is signaled by a court official, steps proudly forward, and makes an explanation of his morning's prowess.
With skeptical smile the magistrate looks at that felonious, would-be kidnaper of a juvenile innocent, and asks for the boy.
Michael explains little Jack's sprinting performance, adding:
"It was ivident, yer honner, that the skeert child feart that owld vilyun more than the noime of the law."
Just then an officer who had been on duty near the South Ferry stepped forward and cleared the situation.
"This old man is a peaceful, respected resident, living a little way from Battery Park. He has grown sons and daughters in the city. With a score of grandchildren making bedlam at his home, it is not likely he would steal a newsboy."
The old man looked both relieved and vexed. This unexpected intervention would help him out of trouble, but he preferred not being recognized in such a rôle. At the station he had refused to tell his name or residence.
With a smile, the judge said:
"Turn your kidnapper loose!"
Escorted by the crestfallen Michael, he left, returning to the station for money and watch.
The last words Oswald heard from this diplomatic representative of New York man-catchers were:
"Indade yez in luck to have inflooenz! It was me own resarve that yez did not git the limits! If iver Oi nades a rickomindashun, yer noime will head the soobscripshun!"
Oswald learned that in the vicinity of this arrest, Broadway was the dividing line between police precincts Nos. 1 and 2. Having been arrested on the east side of Broadway, the old man was taken to precinct station No. 1, or "Old Slip."
Michael Patrick O'Brien was not a member of the regularly appointed city police force. He was a special, this being his initial exploit.
Oswald viewed numerous objects of interest while awaiting that letter from Sir Donald Randolph. Though aware that through uncertainty of Sir Donald's stay at any particular place theremight be prolonged delay, he feels sure that when his letter is received, answer will be prompt.
Often is felt unutterable loneliness. There is nothing like immense crowds of strangers in a strange land to make individual segregation absolute.
At times only that image-something, somehow, from somewhere, reflected into recesses of his consciousness, avails against childish fretting and petulant protest. From outer or inner depths, occasionally come suggestive glimpses and assuring voices.
The first Sabbath after his arrival in New York Oswald attended church. Not since that Northfield visit had this son of a clergyman heard a sermon or prayer.
The familiar ritual of the Episcopal Church is not used, yet responsive chords vibrate to some mystic touch. The church is plain and music faulty. In pulpit utterances there is nothing strikingly trite or profound. The preacher has none of oratorical gifts. Oswald cannot account for his own interest. While those imperfectly sharped and flatted notes are sounding, he wonders if that peculiarly adjusted, harmonious Sense, quickening at scream of seagull or roar of ravenous beast, would not miss these poorly pitched tones more than Gabriel's highest or Creation's ever-echoing oratorio.
Listening to doctrinal directions as to ceremonial observances radically differing from other beliefs, Oswald thinks of the big-hearted Father, tenderly amused at zeal of His children in their many ways of seeking that coveted smile.
Despite these surroundings, the morning's moods had been so comfortable that in the evening Oswald attended services at one of New York's prominent churches, where he listened to grand music by a skillful choir, and a scholarly sermon from an able preacher.
But the emotional key ranged capriciously.
A good-looking assistant, in dictatorial tones, told the world's Helper what was expected. The choir sang well a hymn, the burden of which was expressed in oft-repeated phrase: