University of Virginia Library
PS2732.B4 1906
ALD
Behind closed doors.
MX 001 307 832



Libris
ley
est
Ishaw
THIS BOOK BELONGS TO THE
BRADSHAW DONATION
FURMAN UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
GREENVILLE, S. C.











WORKS BY
Anna Katharine Breen
ONE OF MY SONS.
THE LEAVENWORTH CASE.
A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE.
THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.
HAND AND RING.
THE MILL MYSTERY.
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
CYNTHIA WAKEHAM'S MONEY.
MARKED “PERSONAL."
Miss HURD: AN ENIGMA.
DR. IZARD.
THAT AFFAIR NEXT DOOR.
Lost Man's LANE.
AGATHA WEBB.
THE OLD STONE HOUSE.
THE DOCTOR, HIS WIFE, AND THE CLOCK.
7 TO 12 AND X. Y. Z. DETECTIVE STORIES.
THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDE, AND OTHER POEMS.
RISIFI'S DAUGHTER. A DRAMA.
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK & LONDON


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
BY
ANNA KATHARINE (GREEN) Rohlfs
(MRS. CHARLES ROHLFS)
AUTHOR OF " THE LEAVENWORTH CASE," " THAT AFFAIR NEXT DOOR,"
“LOST MAN'S LANE,” “ AGATHA WEBB," ETC.
FORTY-SIXTH THOUSAND
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK & LONDON
Tbe knickerbocker Press
1906


EXCHANGE
APR 1 1 50
PS
2732
.BA
1906
493222
COPYRIGHT, 1888
BY
ANNA KATHARINE GREEN


DEDICATED
TO
THE LADIES OF THE MAGAZINE CLUB
OF
BUFFALO, N. Y.





CONTENTS.
BOOK 1.
THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
CHAPTER
PAGE
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I
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34
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I.-An Unexpected Visitor .
II.—The Dilemma ..
III.-Room 153 ..
IV.—Mrs. Gretorex.
.
V.-A Startling Interruption.
VI.-Another Bride.
. . .
VII.--Some Points ..
VIII.-Facts and Surmises.
IX.-Late Evidence . . .
•
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73
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107
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118
•
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BOOK II.
·
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THE DARKENING CLOUD.
X.—Julius Molesworth . . . .
XI.—At the Hotel in Washington . .
XII.—Curiosity or Interest ?
XIII.—Trivialities . . . . .
XIV.-The Back Porch .
XV.—Tests and Surprises
XVI.—Mrs. Cameron at Her Worst and Best
XVII.-A Sudden Release . . . .
. 135
147
164
. 175
185
• 194
. 209
. 226
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jii


CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
PAGE
XVIII.-In the Hospital . . . . . 229
XIX.—Husband and Wife.
.
. 238
XX.-On the Rack . .
. . 251
XXI.—Dr. Cameron Announces His Deter-
mination . . . . . 270
XXII.—The Mysterious Roll . . . .
XXIII.-Glimpses of a Buried History . . 283
XXIV.-Explanations .
292
XXV.—The Heart of Genevieve Gretorex - 307
XXVI.-The Inspector . . . . . .
XXVII.—Bridget Halloran . . . . 346
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
BOOK III.
THE TWO DOCTORS.
XXVIII.— Pursuit . . . .
XXIX.-Escape
XXX.—The Great Storm
XXXI.-Man's Passions . .
XXXII.-Q. . . . . .
XXXIII.-A Voice in the Night
XXXIV.—The Balcony . .
XXXV.—The Catastrophe
XXXVI.--Rescue
XXXVII.-Acknowledgment .
XXXVIII.—The Inspector Speaks
XXXIX.—The Last Hope .
XL.—The Great Question
XLI.-Gryce Redeems Himself.
XLII.—The Question Settled
XLIII.—The Doors Swung Back .
.
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.
: 359
. 378
. 387
. 398
• 412
.
• 419
. 432
• 443
450
459
460
467
479
481
485
495
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BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
BOOK I.
THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.
It was Dr. Cameron's wedding-day. At eight
o'clock in the evening, the ceremony of marriage
between himself and Genevieve Gretorex was to be
performed at the house of the bride's parents in St.
Nicholas Place. It was now four o'clock.
Seated in his office, Dr. Cameron, who for a
young man enjoyed a most enviable reputation as
a physician, mused over his past and built castles
for the future ; for his bride was the daughter of
one of the richest and most influential citizens of
New York, and to such ambition as his, this fact,
implying as it did valuable connections in the
present, and a large and unencumbered fortune in
the future, was one that lent lustre to her beauty and
attraction to their union. Not but what he loved
her-or thought he did—would have loved her
under any circumstances. Was she not handsome.


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
and in that reserved and somewhat haughty way he
especially admired ? Had she not fine manners, and
would she not add increased honor to a name
already well known, and as he might add, respected ?
To be sure she had her caprices, as a woman so cir-
cumstanced had a right to have, and she esteemed
rather than adored him, as many little events in
their short courtship only too plainly betrayed. But
then he would not have admired a gushing bride,
and being what he was, a man of taste and the son
of a man of taste, he found a certain satisfaction in
the calm propriety of a match that united equal in-
terests, without jeopardizing that calmness of mind
necessary to the successful practice of his exacting
profession. There was but one thing troubled him.
Why had she refused to see him for the last seven
days? She was not a woman of petty instincts. In-
deed he had sometimes suspected her of possessing
latent energies which the round of a fashionable
life had never called forth; and in her cool and
somewhat languid gaze he had caught glimpses now
and then of a spirit that only needed light and air
to expand into something like greatness. Why
then this strange desire for seclusion at a time
when a woman is usually supposed to desire the
support of her lover's society? Had he displeased
her? He could not think so. Not only had his
presents been rich, they had been rare and of an
order to gratify her refined taste. Was she ill ?
He was her physician as well as lover and he had


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
3
not been notified of any indisposition. Besides the
last time he had been so fortunate as to be received
into her presence, she had seemed well, and looked
blooming; more so indeed, than he had seen her
for some time; and though somewhat nervous in
manner, had exhibited an interest in his attentions
which he had not always observed in her. It was
not a long interview, but he remembered it well ;
saw again the almost timid look with which she
greeted him, followed by the smile that was nearly
a shock to him, it was so much warmer and brighter
than usual. Then the few hurried words—for even
that night she would not see him long-and the
sudden coyness of her attitude as he took her hand
in parting !-he recollected it all. He had not
thought of it at the time, but now it seemed to him
that there had been something strange in her whole
bearing, an impalpable change from her former self
that he could not analyze but which had neverthe-
less left its impression upon him. The kiss he had
received, for instance, had moved him. There had
been warmth in it and her lips had almost returned
the pressure of his own.
This was new in the history of their courtship
and would have argued, perhaps, that she was be-
ginning to recognize his appreciation of her if her
after conduct had not given the lie to any such sur-
mise. As it was, it rather seemed to show that
she had been in an unnatural condition-sugges-
tive of incipient fever, perhaps. She was ill; and


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
they were trying to keep it from him! The
butler's excuses, “ Miss Gretorex is very much en-
gaged, sir ;” “Mrs. Gretorex's regrets, sir, but Miss
Gretorex has gone out on important business,” were
but polite subterfuges to blind his eyes to the real
truth. And yet to his calmer judgment how un.
tenable was even this supposition. Had she been
sick he could not have failed to have heard of it
from some quarter. No, she was not sick. She
was but indulging in a freak easily to be explained,
perhaps, by her mother's over-exacting code of eti-
quette; and as in a few hours she was to be his
wife and life-long companion, he would cease to
think of it, and only remember that kiss,
He had reached this point in his musings when
they were suddenly interrupted. A tap was heard
on his office door.
With some irritation he arose. It was not time
for his carriage and he had expressly ordered that
no visitors or patients were to be received. Who
could it be, then ? A messenger from Miss Gret-
orex? He sprang to the door at the thought. But
before he could touch the knob, the door opened,
and to his surprise and possible relief there entered
an unknown man of middle age and prepossessing
appearance, whose errand seemed to be one of im-
portance though his manner was quiet and his voice
startlingly gentle.
“I hope I am not intruding,” said he. “The
boy below told me this was your wedding-day, but


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
5
he also told me that the ceremony was not to take
place till eight o'clock this evening, and as my busi-
ness is peculiar and demands instant attention, I
ventured to come up."
“That is right,” answered Dr. Cameron, feeling
an unaccountable attraction towards the man
though he was not what you would perhaps call a
gentleman, and had, as the doctor could not but
notice even at this early stage of their acquaintance,
a way of not meeting your eye when he spoke that
was to say the least, lacking in ingenuousness. “Is
it as a patient you come to me?”
"No," rejoined the stranger, fixing his glance on
the white necktie and one or two other insignificant
articles which lay on the table near by, with an air
strangely like that of compassion. “My business is
with you as a doctor—that is, partly—but I am not
the patient. I almost wish I were,” he added, in a
troubled tone that awakened the other's interest
notwithstanding the natural pre-occupation of his
thoughts.
“Let me hear," returned Dr. Cameron.
“You make my task easy,” the stranger remarked.
“And yet," he went on in a curter and more busi-
ness-like tone, "you may be less willing to listen
when I tell you that I have first a story to relate
which while not uninteresting in itself, is so out of
accord with your present mood that I doubt if you
will be able to sit through it with patience. Yet it


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
is necessary for me to relate it and necessary for
you to hear it, now, here, and without any inter-
ruption."
This was alarming; especially as the speaker did
not seem like a man given to sentimentalities or
even to exaggeration. On the contrary he gave
"the impression of a person accustomed to weigh his
words with studious care, not allowing a sentence
to escape him without a decided motive.
“Will you tell me your name?" requested Dr.
Cameron.
The reply came quietly.
“I doubt if you will know it, and I had rather
you had not asked it. But since it is important
above all things that you should trust me, I will
say that it is Gryce, Ebenezar Gryce, and add that
I am a member of the police force; in short, a de-
tective."
Dr. Cameron felt his apprehensions vanish.
Whatever the other's errand, it could not be one
that touched him or his ; and this to a man on his
wedding day was certainly a comforting thought.
“You undervalue your fame," he replied. “I
know your name well. Can it be possible you
desire my assistance in a professional way?”
The detective's gaze which had been resting
gloomily upon a laughing cherub on the mantel-
piece, shifted, but he did not respond to the doctor's
smile and his manner remained unaltered.


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
“I will tell my story,” said he. “It will be the
quickest way to come to an understanding."
And without further pause or preliminary, he
began in the following words.


II.
THE DILEMMA.
“I AM getting to be an old man, and I have my
infirmities. But there are still cases which are
given to nobody but me. Among them are those
which involve the honor of persons in a high station
of life.”
Mr. Gryce paused. Dr. Cameron felt his appre-
hensions return.
“ You see," the detective slowly resumed, “I
can keep a secret; that is, when the life and property
of others are not endangered by my silence. I can
do a detective's work and keep a detective's counsel,
only speaking when and where necessity requires.”
He paused again. Dr. Cameron moved uneasily.
“ As in this case,” added the other, gravely.
“This case?" repeated the doctor, now thoroughly
alarmed, “What case ? You excite me; tell me
what you have to say, at once!”
But the detective was not to be hurried.
“I was therefore not at all surprised,” he pro-
ceeded, as if no interruption had occurred, “when
some three days ago I was requested to call upon
-Mrs. A., let us say, on business of a strictly con-


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
fidential character. Such summonses come fre-
quently. Such a summons does not disturb an
officer in the least. I nevertheless made haste to
show myself at Mrs. A.'s house ; for Mrs A.,
whom you perhaps know, is a woman of some
consequence, and her husband a man of wide-
spread reputation and influence. I found her
at home, anxiously awaiting my appearance. As
soon as' she saw me she told me her trouble: 'Mr.
Gryce,' said she, “I am in a great dilemma. Some
thing has occurred in our family which may or may
not lead to a lasting dishonor. What I wish from
you is aid to determine whether our fears are well.
grounded. If they are not, you will forget that you
were ever called to this house.' I bowed; I was
already interested, for I saw that her anxiety was
great, while I could not help being puzzled over its
cause, for she had no son to disgrace her by his
dissipations, and as for her husband he was above
reproach. She soon relieved my curiosity.
“Mr. Gryce,' said she,' I have a daughter.'
«« Yes,' I returned, inwardly startled, Miss A. and
dishonor seemed so wide apart.
“She is our only child,' the mother went on.
We love her, and have aways cherished her, but
though it is not generally known in the house-
and here the poor lady's eyes roamed about her as
if she were afraid that her words would be over-
heard, she has left us; gone away without ac-
quainting us where—suddenly, inexplicably, leaving


10
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
only the most meagre explanation behind her, and
-and-
“But, madam,' I interrupted, 'if she left any ex-
planation-
“Mrs. A. took a small and crumpled note out of
her pocket and handed it to me.
“ • A letter,' she affirmed, 'sent through the mail.
'And I was in the house when she left, and would
have listened to any reasonable request she had to
make.'
“I had already read the four or five lines which
the letter contained.
“* Dear Mother:
“I must have rest. I have gone away for
a few days, but shall be back on the twenty-seventh.
Don't worry.
“Your affectionate —
“What is the matter with this ?' I asked. She
says she will be back on the twenty-seventh, and to-
day is only the twenty-fourth.'
“Sir,' was the answer, “it is the only time in our
experience when our daughter has left us without
first gaining our permission. Besides, the time is
especially inopportune. My daughter's wedding-
cards are out.'"
Mr. Gryce stopped suddenly, for Dr. Cameron had
given an anxious staſt.
“Ah, that arouses your interest!" remarked the


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
II
detective. “Your own wedding being so near, I am
not surprised."
It was dryly said, and the doctor at once re-
seated himself. He had no wish to appear unduly
moved, but he could not suppress every token of
emotion, so he turned his head away from the light.
Mr. Gryce let his gaze travel to a new object before
proceeding.
“ This avowel of Mrs. A. put a new aspect on
affairs,” said he, “but yet I saw no reason for the
extreme anxiety displayed. “And on what day does
she expect to be married ? 'I asked.
“On the twenty-seventh.'
« • But she says she will be back?'
“That does not comfort me.'
“You think she will not come?'
“• I have no hope that she will.'
“ This acknowledgment was uttered with empha.
sis. There seemed to be but one conclusion to
draw.
6. Your daughter wishes to escape her engage.
ment?'
“ The answer was less emphatic than before. In
fact it expressed doubt.
"• I do not know, sir, my daughter is not herself;
has not been for some time. My husband and my-
self have both noticed it; but we never anticipated
her taking any such extreme action as this. Where
has she gone? What will become of her? How


12
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
can we face the world? How can we tell her
lover?'
“ • Then you think-'
"". That she is laboring under a temporary aberra.
tion of mind, caused perhaps by the excitement of the
last few weeks, that she is not responsible for her
acts; that she may be anywhere, remote or near ;
and that we may wait till the hour set for her mar-
riage is past without seeing her.'
“To this I could make but one reply. “Then why
not take her lover into your confidence, inform him
of your fears and gain the benefit of his experience
in your search for her.'
“The answer will astonish you.
“Because we are very proud and he is very proud.
To explain our fears, we should be obliged to say
much that it would be humiliating for us to utter
and for him to hear. Besides, we may over-rate the
situation. She may come back, as she says she will ;
and should this be the case, you can see for your
self what endless regret would follow any such con.
fidences as you suggest.'
••• But-'I began.
“. It is this note that causes our dilemma,' she in.
terposed. “With these lines before me I cannot act
as if there were no hope of her returning in proper
time to take her part in the ceremony. Yet I do
not trust these lines, nor the promise she has made.
Why, I can hardly say ; for she has always been a
woman of her word. But she is not herself, of that
I am convinced.'


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
13
“This repetition of her former assertion made it
easy for me to inquire what special change she had
perceived in her daughter to lead to such a conclu.
sion. She evidently found it difficult to reply.
“I cannot put it into words,' she declared : 'I
feel the change.'
“ • And how long have you felt it?'
“ Not long, since we began active preparations
for her wedding, I think.'
666 And has no one else observed it?'.
“I cannot say ; I should think her lover would.'
«• Why?'
« « Because it has been in reference to him she has
shown her peculiarities strongest. For weeks she
has received him only on sufferance; and for the
iast few days has more than once absolutely refused
to see him.'
“* And what reason did she assign for this p' .
“«Follies. Fatigue, caprice, a letter to write, a
dressmaker to see, anything that came into her
head.'
« • Yet she went on preparing for her wedding?
"Certainly, her cards were out.
“The tone in which this was said, caused me to
reflect. Though affable, kindly and even philan-
thropic in her dealings towards the world at large,
Mrs. A. is, as every one knows, a woman who would
find it very difficult to infringe upon any of the laws
of society. Having seen her daughter pledge her.
self to a man of suitable pretensions, she would


14
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
het. She asked of course the But; the
consider such a pledge final if only because she
could not face the talk and scandal that would fol.
low a rupture. Influenced by this idea I remarked :
« • You must be perfectly frank with me if you
want me to help you at this crisis. Has your
daughter, or has she not, expressed a wish to break
her engagement ?'
“«She asked me once if I thought it too late for
her to do so. Of course there was but one reply to
this and she said no more. But,' the poor mother
continued hastily, that was only a symptom of
Alightiness. She has nothing against her lover, does
not pretend to have.'
"Only against marriage ?'
"Only against marriage.'
"• Mrs. A.,' I now boldly asked, do you think
she loves the man you expect her to marry ?'
“The answer came hesitatingly. “She accepted
his attentions with pleasure when they were first
offered.'
“Do you think she loves any other man?'
“The mother shrunk back in dismay. “I am
sure she does not. How could she? There is not
another such gentleman in our circle of acquain-
tance.'
“This was flattering to the gentleman, but not
exactly satisfactory to me.
“• You know girls sometimes take strange
whims.'
«« « My daughter is not a girl, sir, she is a woman.'


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
15
“This silenced me as it would you, sir, I have no
doubt; and seeing the mother was really sincere in
believing that her daughter's mind was temporarily
affected, I inquired again as to what she had done
or failed to do of late, and found that she had
shunned the society of the members of her family
as well as that of her lover, finding her sole interest
seemingly in the preparation of her wardrobe.
• To that she did attend,' said Mrs. A., 'and it was
the only thing she did help me in. No hour was
too late for her to see her dressmaker; no engage-
ment too pressing for her to receive and fit on any
of the new costumes that kept coming home. In-
deed she showed more than a bride's usual interest
in such matters ; and it is the one reason I have for
not disputing you utterly when you say she may
come back. She will want to see her dresses.'
“ • Then she did not take them with her?'
" She took nothing.'
«• What! not a trunk?'
“Nothing; that is, nothing but a little hand
satchel.'
" • How do you know this?'
“•We all saw her go out; she was in shopping
costume.'
««• But she had money?'.
“ • I cannot say. Some, no doubt ; but we found
a large roll of bills in her drawer, and her father
says it contains nearly all he had lately given her.


16
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
I do not think her pocket-book held more than five
dollars.'
“This was a point. Either the girl was going
amongst friends, or she was really touched in her
mind. To make sure that the first supposition was
not true, I asked for a list of the houses which Miss
A. was in the habit of visiting. Mrs. A. mentioned
some half dozen, but added that her daughter's
most intimate companion was in Europe and that
she did not think she cared enough for the others
to go to them at this time.
“« And she positively carried no baggage with
her ?
"None. I have looked her things over care.
fully and find nothing missing. She did not even
wear her diamonds.'
“ • And her watch?'.
" • Is left behind.'
“I felt troubled. I looked at the mother to
ascertain what her real fears were. But they did
not seem to be any worse than those she had ex-
pressed. Was she blind to the possibilities? I
felt it my duty to repeat a former question.
“Mrs. A.' said I, I will try and find your
child. The fact that she had too little money to go
far from home will facilitate matters. But first I
must be sure that there is no third party mixed
up in this case and that party a gentleman. You
are certain she was not secretly interested in some
unknown person?'


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
19
"•I can only repeat her words, replied the
poor mother. The very last time I saw her, it was
day before yesterday evening), she looked so fever-
ish and acted so unlike herself, that I ventured to
ask her if she were sure she would not fall sick be-
fore her wedding-day. She said with an unnatural
laugh I hear ringing yet, “I have no idea of falling
ill and I shall certainly not do so till after I have
married the doctor.”'
“Did I say," inquired the detective, pausing,
“that Miss A.'s lover was a doctor ?"
This was too much for his uneasy auditor. Leap-
ing to his feet, Dr. Cameron confronted the speaker
and exclaimed hotly,
“You are playing with me. It is of my intended
wife you are speaking; and you are amusing your-
self with a long, drawn-out tale, when all I want to
know is, whether I am to find my bride at the altar
when I go there, or whether I am to be made the
victim of an outrageous scandal that will affect my
whole future career. Don't you know that it is
now half past four and that at eight-"
“Softly," interrupted the other. “I am Ebenezar
Gryce and I seldom go slow when I ought to go
fast. If I take up your time by telling you a long,
drawn-out tale, it is because--"
But the doctor was in no mood for talk.
“Tell me," said he, “if Miss Gretorex has re.
turned to her father's house.”
“She has not."


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“And they have not heard from her?"
The detective shook his head.
Dr. Cameron's mouth took a grim curve.
“ There is to be no wedding then, I see.” Then as
the other did not answer, he broke out into a harsh
laugh and turned towards the window. “I will
send and countermand the order for my carriage,”
he now dryly remarked.
Mr. Gryce advanced and touched him softly on
the shoulder.
"On the contrary," said he, “you will send for it
to come at once; there is use for it."
“I do not understand you."
“You have not heard my story out."
“Speak, then. If nothing but slow torture will
answer, why I must summon up my courage and
submit."
“Good! Meanwhile you will send for your car.
riage ?"
“If you say I will require it."
“I have already said so.”
“Wait,” cried the other, stopping him as he
reached out his hand toward the electric bell.
“ Where am I expected to go ?”.
“ To the C- Hotel.”
“A fine ride on my wedding-day."
“ A necessary one."
“And whom am I expected to see there?"
“A young woman who has registered herself as
Mildred Farley, but who I think looks precisely


THE GRETOREX WEDDING. 19
like the original of that picture I see hanging over
your fireplace."
Dr. Cameron shuddered.
“Don't you know whether it is the original or
not?"
“No; if I did I should not need you. I should
take Mrs. Gretorex with me instead."
“And why don't you do so as it is ?"
“For two reasons. First, she is a woman and I
wish to save her all the suffering I can; secondly,
she is a marked person and her appearance in a
crowded hotel on the day of her daughter's antici.
pated wedding might awaken comment."
“And mine?
“You are a doctor; you can go everywhere, at
any time without causing the least scandal."
“And the young lady? Have you thought how
very agreeable to her my presence will probably be,
if she is as you surmise, the woman I am expected
to marry in four hours ?".
“I have thought of everything. The young lady
shall not see you. You shall only see her."
“And if I find her the stranger her name
implies?"
"You shall drive to Mr. Gretorex's house as fast
as you can, confident that your bride will be there
to welcome you."
Dr. Cameron no longer hesitated. The carriage
was ordered. While they were waiting for it, the
doctor asked for the remainder of the story he had


20
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
before disdained to hear. “ I can listen now,” he
said, “I already know the worst."
With an enigmatical bend of the brows the
detective continued.
“Mrs. Gretorex has an unlimited confidence in
the police. When she had told me that her daugh.
ter was missing, that she had gone out of the house
without baggage, and showed me the letter she had
received, she evidently thought she had given me
all the information necessary. But I thought dif-
ferently. Having but three days in which to ac-
complish this task, it was necessary. that no time
should be lost in pursuing false clews, so after ask.
ing for Miss A.'s Miss Gretorex's photograph, I
put a few further questions, and finding that she
could really give me no added information, I fol.
lowed out my usual course in these matters and
asked leave to interrogate the servants.
..". But,' she exclaimed, 'they have no notion but
that she has gone away with our full knowledge
and consent. It would ruin everything to take
them into our confidence; girls of that class can
never keep a secret.'
“I understand,' I replied, and I have no no-
tion of taking them into our confidence. We have
fifty ways of getting what we wish out of servants
without their suspecting either us or our motives.'
“I thought the lady looked peculiar. Well,'
said she, the only one who could give you any in.
formation has lately left the house. My daughter


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
21
took a dislike to her and begged that she should be
dismissed. Not liking to cross Miss Gretorex in
her present condition, I complied, though I knew
nothing against the girl and liked her work well.'
“ This had the look of a clew ; at all events it was
worth another question.
“And what excuse did your daughter give for
her dislike?
“O, none; thought the girl prying, I believe,
meddled too much with her new things, I suppose.'
“I asked for the girl's address. That word prys
ing gave me hope; it was the open sesame perhaps
to the mystery before us. The mother gave it
without hesitation, but also without any enthusiasm.
That a servant should have picked up any informa-
tion in regard to her proud daughter of which she
herself was ignorant, seemed absolutely incredible
to her. But I know my business," asserted Mr.
Gryce,“ and after taking such measures as are usual
missing, I went to see this girl.
“I will not try your patience by relating the in-
terview. It was like a thousand others I have had
and ended very much as I expected it would. She
talked, but was not conscious she talked. She told
me all she knew about Miss Gretorex and consider-
able that she did not. There was evidently reason
for her mistress calling her prying, for she had a
great deal to say about a girl who used to come
there with sewing; trash which I was obliged to


22
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
listen to in order to get at the one thing I wanted,
which was that she had once surprised the young
lady writing a letter she evidently did not wish
seen, for she blushed with anger at the intrusion, .
calling the girl names and threatening her with the
“And this letter ? " asked Dr. Cameron, in a voice
he strove in vain to keep calm.
“Was but begun. The girl only saw the line
• My beloved D- a very proper beginning if she
were writing to her future husband."
“ Very," returned the doctor. But the sup-
pressed sarcasm in his voice told the detective all
he wanted to know.
" But it looked as if it were not to her future
husband," continued that worthy, gravely. “ And
finding that she had no intimate friend whose name
began with DM, I began to feel assured that my
original surmise was true and that there was a third
party in the case to whose influence Miss Gretorex's
disappearance was due. I therefore added to the
precautions already taken, such others as my own
judgment suggested ; causing a description of her
person and clothing to be sent to many quarters usu.
ally omitted by the authorities. Besides doing this
I had her various haunts searched and her friends
examined. A detective was even sent to this office,
sir, and conversed with you a half-hour day before
yesterday without your suspecting his errand. But
all was of no avail till this morning. This morning


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
23
word was brought me that a person answering the
description I had sent out, had taken dinner at a
certain restaurant and afterwards gone to the C—-
Hotel where she was to be found in room 153. In
half an hour I was there and in five minutes more
I had seen her.”
“And was-was she—" stammered the doctor.
“I have said she was like the original of that
picture,” remarked Mr. Gryce. “But I cannot
swear she is Miss Gretorex. Her face was that
of the missing heiress, but her clothing while
answering in a general way to the description of
what Miss Gretorex wore on leaving home, still
shows points of difference which an old hand like
myself cannot but take note of. As for instance,
the description reads : 'A dress of fine blue cloth
trimmed with rows of black braid,' while this
woman's dress is of blue cloth indeed, but not fine
and not trimmed with black braid. Besides she has
a watch on and Miss Gretorex as we know, left hers
behind her. Yet," he went on, as if in answer to
Dr. Cameron's sudden look of relief-though how
he could see it I cannot say for he was looking in
quite a contrary direction—"clothes are alterable
and faces not so much so. Though I do not pro-
fess to explain the discrepancies I have mentioned, I
fully believe the woman in room 153 of the C---
Hotel is the lady we seek; but that we may be sure
of it, I have come for you."


24
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“But,” cried the doctor with a frown, “ if there is
a third party as you say—”.
“Hark!” said Mr. Gryce, “the carriage.” And
he rose in a way that admitted of no dispute.


III.
.
ROOM 153.
THE ride was comparatively a silent one. Mr.
Gryce, never much of a talker except when he had
an object in view, found sufficient occupation for
himself in looking out of the window, while Dr.
Cameron was in too perturbed a condition of mind
to risk speech even if the confused nature of his
thoughts had allowed it. He was suffering from the
first real blow his pride had ever received ; for he
knew now that it was his pride that had been hurt
and not his heart, his pride which was so great that
at the very thought of humiliation, his whole future
became clouded. He a betrayed lover! He an
outraged bridegroom! It was an intolerable
thought, and yet he could not escape from it. For
now that he had turned his back upon that part of
the city which had held his hopes, and was en route
with a detective to an obscure hotel down-town, he
knew as well as if he had already recognized her
that he was going to see there Genevieve Gretorex.
The utter sinking at his heart assured him of it.
The thousand and one memories of his acquaintance
with the cold and haughty woman who had ac-
25


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
cepted his attentions, but who had never loved him
or seemed to ask his love, added their weight to
his conviction. He could perceive now that her
thoughts and interest had been elsewhere. He
laughed to himself with an immeasurable bitterness
as he remembered how he had characterized by such
terms as noble self-control, dignified reserve, and
lady-like hauteur, the chill, studied manner he now
saw to be the expression of indifference if not ac-
tual distaste. And he had come to his very wed-
ding-day without suspecting the truth; had bought
his presents and fitted up his house for a bride that
had actually left her home and resorted to the most
miserable of subterfuges to escape him. It was
enough to crush all gentleness out of him ; to make
of a once generous and amiable man, a cynic and
a misanthrope. His working features showed his
feelings; his clenched hand, his determination. If
it was as he feared, and Miss Gretorex should be
found by him in hiding, instead of in her father's
house dressing for a ceremony to which a thousand
guests had been invited, he would flee the city,
leave the country, and with it the derision of his
enemies, and the no less unacceptable sympathy of
his friends. In his imagination, he was already half
across the ocean, when the carriage came to a stand-
still. Looking up, he saw they were before the
hotel and the character of his thoughts changed.
“What time is it?” he asked, abruptly.
“ Just five minutes to six."


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
27
“ Late! if fate should be so unexpectedly pro-
pitious as to prove your surmises wrong, and I
should wish to get back to St. Nicholas Place by
eight.”
“No," said the detective. “It has taken us just
eighty minutes to come down, and it will take us
just eighty minutes to go back. That will give us
ten minutes for what you want to do here and leave
you a full half-hour in which to change your coat
and don a white neck-tie ; all that I see you need to
do before taking your part in the anticipated cere.
mony."
“You calculate without delays."
“I see no cause for any."
“You cannot always prevent them. I should not
wish to be late if the bride is not,” he somewhat
sarcastically suggested.
The detective did not seem to fear any such re-
sult.
As they were alighting from the carriage the
physician's thoughts seemed to take still another
turn. He glanced at his companion, and though
he did not meet his eye-something which very few
could boast of ever doing—he seemed satisfied with
his scrutiny, for he remarked :
“You have meant to show me a kindness, Mr.
Gryce.”
The detective did not contradict him.
At the entrance of the hotel, Dr. Cameron again
addressed him,


28
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ You have promised she shall not see me.”
“I will keep my word.”
“Give as little cause for scandal as you can,” he
said.
Mr. Gryce shrugged his shoulders.
“ Trust me," was his laconic rejoinder.
They went up-stairs, quietly passed down a hall
or two and stopped in a dark passage.
“Wait,” enjoined the detective; and he stepped
up to a girl that was loitering in the vicinity.
A few words settled his business and she came
rapidly forward, stepped by the doctor and opened
a door near by with a key she took from her pocket.
“Room 153 happens to be a very convenient one
for our purpose,” whispered Mr. Gryce, as the girl
passed in and left them a minute alone. “ It has
its main door and it has this other and but little
used one, opening into an alcove with curtains.
The girl is gone to see if the lady wishes anything.
She will leave the door ajar when she comes out.”
Dr. Cameron flushed scarlet and drew hastily
back.
" It is a sneaking piece of business,” he objected.
“But it must be done,” quoth the other; then as
the girl came out, added, “ if she is the patient you
seek, her parents will be only too grateful to you
for your attention."
Dr. Cameron frowned, subdued his natural feel.
ings and followed in the wake of the detective, who
had already stepped across the threshold.


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
29
The room or rather the alcove thus entered, was
dim and for a moment he saw nothing but the bed
that together with a wardrobe took up most of the
space before him. But in another instant he had
observed the thin streak of light made by the sep-
aration of the two heavy curtains that hung be-
tween him and the apartment beyond, and walking
quickly up to it, he looked through.
A pathetic sight greeted him. Kneeling before a
fire, whose leaping flames seemed neither to lend
warmth to her icy cheek nor comfort to her misera-
ble heart, he saw a woman, whose listless eyes fixed
upon a paper that was consuming on the hearth,
saw nothing beyond, seemingly in this world or the
world to come. But apparent as was her misery,
the doctor saw in that first glance but two things,
her face and her form. Both were unmistakable.
They were those of Genevieve Gretorex.
His look as he fell back revealed the truth. The
detective who was close at his side took his arm
without a word and turned towards the door. But
Dr. Cameron, moved perhaps by some vague mem-
ory of the despair he had seen, turned round again
to the curtain and allowed himself one other glance.
His face softened as he looked and he involuntarily
raised his hand to the curtain as if moved by some
uncontrollable impulse to enter, when he felt his
companion's firm clasp close around his arm, and
yielding to that kindly but inexorable will, he


30
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
wheeled about and followed Mr. Gryce out of the
room.
“So there is no mistake," inquired the detective.
The doctor shook his head.
Mr. Gryce softly closed and locked the door out
of which they had come. Giving the key to the
girl who was not far off, he remarked, “It is not
the person we seek,” and quietly led the way
towards the stairs. But here Dr. Cameron stopped
him. .
“What are you going to do?" asked he.
“Ride to St. Nicholas Place as fast as I can."
“ And what do you expect me to do?"
The detective opened out his hands French
fashion. “I have no further control over your
movements,” he observed.
Dr. Cameron still held him back.
“Mr. Gryce,” said he, “ have you seen this young
lady yourself?"
“Certainly, before I went for you to identify
her."
“You noticed how pale she was, then, how un-
happy."
“ I did not think so."
“She is the living picture of despair.”
Mr. Gryce's hand that was sliding up and down
the stair-rail suddenly stopped.
“Your emotions make you exaggerate," he de-
clared. “ It is scarcely three hours since I saw her,


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
31
and she struck me then as looking not only well but
full of bloom and hopefulness."
“Go and look for yourself,” suggested the doc-
tor. “If I am any reader of countenances it is a
wretched woman we leave in yonder.”
Mr. Gryce paused no longer. Gliding swiftly
back, he procured the key once more, took a glance
for himself and came out troubled.
“I don't understand it,” his look seemed to say
to the unconscious key as he handed it back for
the second time to the obliging chambermaid.
The girl may have surprised that look, at all
events she ventured upon a word or two that
seemed to move the detective strangely. He gave
the key another glance, asked a question or two
and then hurried away to the office by another
stair than that which was guarded by Dr. Cameron's
tall figure. He was gone five minutes and the
doctor was beginning to lose control over his pa-
tience when the detective appeared below, and
hastily beckoned to him. Dr. Cameron at once
ran down. There was a change in the detective's
manner which he could not but notice.
“ It is as I said ?” remarked he.
Mr. Gryce laughedhe did sometimes--and has-
tened towards the street door. “We have no time
to lose," he affirmed.
“ You have not, perhaps,” exclaimed his com-
panion, energetically. “But my duty is here; Miss


32
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Gretorex looks as if she needed a friend, and if it is
true that her mind is affected—”
“Hark," cried the other, in his shortest, sharpest
accents. “Five minutes ago I might perhaps have
agreed with you, but since then I have heard some-
thing which changes my mind. Sir,” he asserted
“since I saw the lady three hours ago, she has had
a visitor, a gentleman. She received him in her
room; they talke, a full hour, and when he went
out, he stepped up to the girl we saw up-stairs, and
-summon up your courage, sir, if you love her-
said that he was coming back again at nine
o'clock; that he should bring a clergyman with
him ; that, in short, he expected to marry the lady
this very evening in the room in which he had just
left her, and wished it put in readiness for the pur-
pose. He told the same story to the clerk down.
stairs, and--"
“ His name, what was the villain's name, or didn't
he leave any name? Quick! let me know my
whole disgrace at once.”
“He left a card and the name on it is one you
may know.” And the detective handed over to his
companion a visiting.card on which was inscribed :
Dr. Julius Molesworth.
“Molesworth !” repeated the other in a tone of
incredulous amazement. “Impossible! Some one
has made use of his card.”


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
33
“You think so ?”
“I know so. She could never have become en-
tangled with him. He is a graduate of the Medical
School and is all right in a professional way, but he
is on the Health Board, and confines his practice to
charity patients in the — Ward. She could never
have even met him.”
“It is not always safe to say whom a woman may
or may not meet."
“She would never have been attracted to him if
she had. Molesworth is one of the most eccentric
of men.” And Dr. Cameron drew up his fine figure
in a way that was sufficiently significant.
Mr. Gryce smiled and shook his head.
“Let us make ourselves sure of the matter," said
he. And leading the way back to the office, he
asked a description of the owner of the card.
“A peculiar looking person," answered the clerk.
“Medium-sized, but with a face that means business.
His hair is dark and he wears no beard. He has a
pleasant smile but his frown makes you feel as if
you wanted to stand from under. His clothes—"
But Dr. Cameron had already drawn the detective
to the door. “Let us get away from here," he
cried.


IV.
MRS. GRETOREX.
THEY were in the street. Dr. Cameron whom
this last blow had seemingly dazed, stood on the
hotel steps looking in a vague way about him, like
one made suddenly homeless; while the detective
with his hand on his arm endeavored to make him
understand the necessity of haste.
“ Haste? Why should I hasten ?” asked he at
last, struck by the word. “I have no engagements,
they will scarcely miss the bridegroom if the bride
is absent.”
“Possibly not, but that absence must be ac-
counted for. That is my duty, perhaps, but you
have one, too, I think, sir.”
“ Here? possibly.”
“No, I don't think you can do anything here.
But you might try. The lady is alone, and"
“I cannot," interrupted the other, with a look of
irrepressible repugnance. “Neither my love for
my complaisance is sufficient for such a humilia-
tion.” And he started away towards the carriage.
Mr. Gryce followed him, saw him enter, and
stepped into the vehicle himself.
34


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
35
“To the nearest elevated station," he shouted to
the driver. “And quick! We have lost ten minutes
by this unexpected discovery," he explained, in
apologetic tones to the doctor, “and must make
them up at our own inconvenience.”
The doctor did not reply ; apathy had succeeded
disgust.
Mr. Gryce went on talking.
“I am in no position to suggest your duty to
you, sir, but I will just lay before you one or two
conclusions that have come to me in the last five
minutes. Will you listen?”.
“I have nothing else to do,” dryly remarked the
physician.
“Very well, then. Some time ago Miss Gretorex
engaged herself to you. She seemed happy; then
some trouble came into her life, we do not know
what, but we can safely connect it with this Moles-
worth, and she wished to break her engagement.
But her mother to whom she mentioned her desire,
thought it too late for her to do so; and driven
by some unknown necessity of the situation, she
quitted her home three days before her contem-
plated marriage, leaving behind her, you must re-
member, a distinct promise to return in time to ful-
fil her part in the contract. The wedding-day arrives
and she delays her return unaccountably; but the
wedding-day is not over, and when I saw her here at
two o'clock there were yet six hours before her. Did
she intend at that time to keep her word? We do


36
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
not know; but her face was cheerful, even expect-
ant; the face indeed of a woman who is looking
forward to immediate marriage with a man worthy
of her and whom she not only loves but respects.
But a visitor comes. She has a long talk with him,
and the result is a distinct change in her bearing and
expression, which seems to argue a distinct change
in her plans. We still hear that she is going to be
married, but the name of her bridegroom is a new
one and the place of her bridal the very room which
at present is only a witness of her despair. What is
the conclusion? There may be many, but the one
that has suggested itself to me is this : That in her
secret heart Miss Gretorex loves the man she has
seemingly fled from, and that in this new and unex-
·pected union she is making a sacrifice to some fan.
cied duty. If this is so—"
“She is lost to me as much as if she gloried in
her duplicity,” broke in the doctor coldly.
The detective slowly shook his head. “You do
not love her,” his gesture seemed to say.
But his words betrayed no such conviction.
“She is courting a wretched fate," he declared.
“ A marriage perpetrated in this manner and under
circumstances so near to scandalous, will not only
destroy her in her own esteem, but sever all connec-
tion with her kindred and the friends who have
hitherto made up her world. She is lost if it is al-
lowed to take place. Her mother must stop it


THE GRETOREX WEDDING. 37
since you do not feel yourself equal to the task.
And to the mother we hasten."
Dr. Cameron's look of gloom did not lighten.
“You are right,” he assented. “Let Mrs. Gret-
orex be told of her daughter's position as soon as
possible. But why need I go with you ?”
.“ To save your good name intact. You are ex.
pected to be on hand to marry Miss Gretorex at
eight o'clock. If she is too ill to marry you, society
will confine itself to commiserating your disap-
pointment. But if you are not there—".
He stopped, for the doctor's whole manner had
changed.
“Shall we not go by the elevated road ?” asked
Mr. Gryce in his quiet way.
“Certainly, certainly," came from the doctor in
ringing tones strangely in contrast to his late
apathetic ones; "anything to get there in time.
Who knows but my honor may at least be saved."
And the voice which gave the orders to the coach-
man now was his, and it was his foot that first
touched the pavement and his form that led the
way up the stairs to the elevated road.
They were fortunate in catching a train immedi-
ately, and once upon it, both breathed easier.
Twenty-five minutes certainly would suffice to carry
them to One Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Street,
fifteen minutes more take them across town, and
fifteen minutes additional see them at the house.
Fifty-five minutes and they had an hour and forty


38
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
minutes. That is, an hour and forty minutes before
eight o'clock. But Mrs. Gretorex had to be in-
formed of her daughter's critical position and got
down to the hotel by nine. Could it be done?
The calm face of the detective asserted his confi.
dence that it could.
But there are accidents that upset all our calcula-
tions. Just as they were congratulating themselves
upon the good time they were making, the cars
gave a sudden jerk and came to a standstill. In.
stantly all the ladies in the car rose, and next mo-
ment the gentlemen, for they had just left a station
and were yet some distance from another.
“ A break-down !” exclaimed the doctor.
“ In the middle of the block !” added his com-
panion.
Yet they did not believe their own words, and it
was some minutes before they fully realized that
the engine had really given out, and that they were
virtually prisoners, and liable to stay where they
were for half an hour at least. When they did, and
had calculated the possibilities of escape and found
none (for like all such accidents it had taken place
in the highest portion of the road), they turned
from each other with an irrepressible expression of
dismay. For even if they succeeded in reaching
the house by eight o'clock, the half-hour now being
lost made the expectation of getting Mrs. Gretorex
down to the hotel in time to stay her daughter's
marriage, no longer within the possibilities. Her


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
39
fate was then decided, and by a power higher than
their own. The thought affected the doctor
deeply, for he knew, or thought he knew, enough
of Dr. Molesworth, to foresee anything but happi-
ness for her in an alliance with him. Even if he
were a man of her world, which he was not, he had
characteristics of disposition that would try the
meekest woman; and she was a decidedly haughty
one, with memories behind her that would make a
life of constant concession intolerable.
In the blank of the dull window out of which he
looked, he perceived her image, tied with all her
accomplishments and lady-like proclivities, to this
brusque, stern, self-contained man, whose ambition
was as hard as his poverty, and whose will was
allied to something narrow and constrained, rather
than to what was broad and helpful. The result
was pity. Not the pity that is akin to love, for
love he could not have now or ever again for this
woman. The shock she had given his pride had
killed its very germs in his heart. Even if he could
bring himself to believe in the detective's plausible
explanation of her conduct, and find in her very
inconsistencies the evidence of a hidden and baffled
affection for himself, his feeling must still remain
one of pity alone. The fact that he saw her face as
never before; that its least line struck him with a
sense of beauty that had sometimes been lacking in
his contemplation of her, did not go far to dis-
pell this conviction. Misfortune while separating


40
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
them had emphasized her figure in his eyes, and
though she was his no more, he could not but mar-
vel over the fate that had come between him and
one whom he now saw could easily have been his
ideal of what was personally fascinating and attract.
ive. The Genevieve he had seen at his last inter.
view-not the one he had seen to-day—was beauti-
ful; and pitiable as it was to consider, had shown
signs of that feeling attributed to her by his com-
panion. He flushed as he remembered it and rig-
orously turned away his thoughts. But they had
taken deep root, and though he rose from his seat
and walked the length of the train, talked to the
engineer and interested himself in one or two pas-
sengers whose countenances betrayed apprehension,
he could not escape them, nor substitute with any
other vision the picture of her face as it had
looked to him on that one night. He saw it in the
clouded skies as he glanced out, in the blaze of the
fire as he peered into the furnace, finally in the
abstracted visage of his companion, as he returned
to his old seat and sat down again by the detec-
tive's side. Do what he would,—and his pride im.
pelled him to make every effort possible,—the shy,
almost beseeching glance so new to those proud
eyes, the bright, alluring smile, even the turn of her
form as she looked back on leaving him, would
recur to his memory with a photographic distinct.
ness that effectually blotted out the wild dishev-
elled woman of whom he had had that hateful and


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
41
stolen glimpse through the curtains. Had it not
been for the hurried beating of his heart, the fierce,
almost unbearable irritation of his nerves worn to
exasperation by these lingering moments of en-
forced waiting, he could almost have imagined that
the events and revelations of the day had been a
dream, and that he was going forward with warmth
in his heart and hope in his soul to a marriage that
promised love and honor. As it was, no clinging
and persistent vision of her or any other woman,
could blot out the shameful fact that he was on his
way to anything but a happy bridal scene ; that
instead of honor he should meet mortification, and
in place of love, defeat and possible regret.
Mr. Gryce-who, in the wisdom of his old age,
never chaſed at what was unavoidable—had noth-
ing to say during this time of inaction. Possibly
he had taken the opportunity to study up some
other case, possibly he thought silence more dis-
creet than speech ; at all events, he made no effort
to break it, and the minutes went by, and the seem-
ingly interminable half-hour came to an end with-
out a word having been uttered between them.
But with the first onward movement of the car both
roused and Mr. Gryce spoke.
“Thirty-five minutes lost! That's bad! but if
the fates are propitious we may succeed in our in-
tentions yet. Come to the door and don't stop for
any courtesies. Seconds are of importance now.”
And seconds' were made use of. Old as Mr.


42
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Gryce was, he showed that when hurry was de-
manded not even his proverbial rheumatism stood
in the way. As soon as the cars stopped at One
Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street, they were out of
them, and sighting a train approaching them on
the cable road, ran, caught it and were on their way
across town before some of their fellow passengers
had reached the bottom of the elevated stairs.
There was no delay this time; St. Nicholas Ave-
nue was reached at a quarter to eight, and as they
had but a few minutes' walk before them, they
stepped out with a decision that was almost hope-
ful. Suddenly a carriage rolled by them.
“Good God!” exclaimed Dr. Cameron, “ a guest
going to the wedding !"
Another carriage and another; the street seemed
alive with them.
“Why didn't I think of this,” muttered the
doctor, feeling the cold sweat breaking out over
him.
“Did you expect anything else?" asked the de-
tective. “The parents, hoping for her return up to
the last, naturally could take no measures to warn
their guests. You will even see an awning up you
may be sure.”
“'Tis horrible !" came from his companion, with
bitter emphasis ; and at the corner of St. Nicholas
Place he almost stopped as if he felt himself unable
to proceed. But the detective's firm figure passing


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
43
hurriedly on, he recovered from his momentary
weakness and followed him.
Meanwhile the stream of carriages kept up, and
presently they could hear the slamming of doors as
their occupants alighted. Something in the sound,
in the general aspect of things, seemed to move the
doctor strangely.
“ Hark,” cried he, clutching at the detective's arm
to stop him. “There is no confusion, no delay;
the guests go in and are received. And look!
lights-lights from basement to garret! What does
it mean? Do those wretched parents still hope that
she will come ?”
For answer, Mr. Gryce drew him hurriedly on.
“Don't stop for anything,” he cried. “Forget
your wrongs, your fears, your hopes even. Be a
machine; we have work to do.” Then with a sudden
change of tone. “You must not be seen by these
people, and you must see the hostess, and immedi-
ately. How are we going to do it? Is there a
basement door ? "
“Yes, but the side-door is better. If we are met
it will cause less remark. I am expected at the side-
door."
“Good! to the side-door then.” And dashing
through a crowd of small urchins that blocked the
road, they made their way around the house to the
entrance mentioned, catching glimpses through the
windows, as they did so, of blazing chandeliers and
towering plants, and hearing with feelings that may


44
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
well be imagined, the bewildering tones of an orches-
tra, mingling with the hum of many voices.
They opened the door. A festive scene burst
upon them, but they paid it little heed. The tall
figure of the family butler bowing before them, ab-
sorbed all their attention, for he wore a look of ex-
pectancy and cheerful welcome that added to the
mystery of the moment and made it difficult for the
doctor to stammer out:
“ Where is Mrs. Gretorex? I must see her at
once."
The butler, surprised, stared at the doctor an in-
stant, and seeing something in his face that he did
not understand, faltered helplessly, and turned his
eyes upon the detective.
“Mrs. Gretorex," repeated Dr. Cameron. “I
want to see her. Tell her—"
“Wait!” whispered Mr. Gryce, “ I had better
send her my name.” And he took a card out of his
pocket.
But the butler more and more surprised, shook
his head, and while he did not refuse to take the
card, muttered:
“Pardon, Monsieur !—Madam Gretorex make her
toilet, but if Dr. Cameron will go to his room, I
will tell her—"
“That will do," broke in the detective. “Take us
up stairs at once.” And ignoring with his usual im-
perturbability, the glances of astonished inquiry that
followed his rather burly figure clad in its common


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
45
business coat, he pushed his way to the stairway
without waiting to see if the doctor was behind him.
This gave the butler an opportunity to whisper,
“The bride is a little late, Monsieur; and Mrs.
Gretorex ask me to say—"
“ I cannot wait,"'broke in the doctor, exasperated
that they should still attempt to keep him in igno-
rance of the real state of affairs. “I will go up,
and you see that Mrs. Gretorex comes to me imme-
diately.” And he followed in the wake of the
detective, conscious from the expression of the
faces he passed, that he wore anything but the
aspect appropriate to his supposed position of
bridegroom.
Mr. Gryce was waiting in the hall above. “I
have inquired for the room set apart for your use,"
whispered he, “and they point out the one at the
end of the hall. Isn't it a sham ?” he added.
“And what pluck on the part of the mother. I
declare I had no idea she would carry it as far as
this. But I suppose she could not help herself.
She kept hoping and hoping from minute to
minute that her daughter would come, and has not
yet found courage nor opportunity perhaps to
explain the situation and dismiss her guests. If it
were not for what we have still to do,” he added as
they stepped into the room which had been pointed
out to them, “I would wait and hear what excuses
she would frame to meet the emergency; for you


46
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
may be sure they would be entirely in accordance
with the demands of the occasion.”
“ There is no excuse possible. The truth will
have to be told,” declared the doctor.
But Mr. Gryce shook his head, and pointing to
the clock, replied, “ There is yet an hour before
us. If she will come at once, and go with us at
once, Mr. Gretorex may safely be left to announce
to the throng that his daughter has been suddenly
taken so violently ill that her marriage to-night is im-
possible. Not one in a dozen will believe him, but
the talk that will follow will not hurt you; and to-
morrow any turn can be given to the story which
the facts will bear out.”
“ Yes, yes,” began the doctor, but he went on
further, for at that moment there was a rustle
heard on the threshold, and Mrs. Gretorex magnifi-
cent in velvet and diamonds, slowly pushed open
the door and stood in a dignified attitude before
them. Both gentlemen started forward and both
gentlemen paused confused, for her air was one of
courteous protest and the glance she allowed to
travel from one to the other had nothing but a
haughty inquiry in it, which to them, knowing as
they did all that was hid behind it, showed a power
of dissimulation that for the moment was almost
disconcerting. Nor were her first words calculated
to better the impression she had made.
“You have sent for me?" said she, with a glance
at the doctor which completely ignored the detec-


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
47
tive. “May I ask what I can do for you?” Then
as the doctor hesitated in his agitation, added
politely. “It is eight o'clock and my daughter is
almost ready. I hope these few minutes of delay
have not inconvenienced you?”
“Your daughter!” gasped Dr. Cameron. “She
is here?” While Mr. Gryce in no wise disturbed
by the coldness with which his presence had been
received, took up a silver paper-weight from off a
table near by and began to weigh it in his hand
while his lips moved with what might be called the
ghost of a whistle.
“My daughter is here of course, sir,” declared the
mother in tones that were almost icy in their pride
and indignation. “Where else should she be on
her wedding night?” And she cast a furious
glance at the detective which that person was of
course much too absorbed to meet.
“Here!” again repeated the physician absolutely
dumbfounded at her audacity. “I beg pardon but
I thought—"
Her smooth smile stopped him.
“Shall I inform my child that her bridegroom is
ready?” she asked, with a polite but doubtful
glance at the overcoat he still wore.
Dr. Cameron stared, felt himself inadequate to
grapple with the situation and glanced at Mr.
Gryce, who softly laid his paper-weight down and
advanced.
“Madam," said the latter, “excuse me, but mo.


48
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
ments are of inestimable value just now and I must
go straight to facts. Your daughter—".
But this woman was not one to brook interfer-
ence. “I don't know you, sir,” she affirmed, and
turned again to the doctor. “When my daughter's
toilet is quite complete you will receive a summons
from her maid. Would you like any assistance
yourself ?"
This roused Dr. Cameron. Advancing, he took
the lady's hand and respectfully bowed over it.
“Mrs. Gretorex," said he, “you ignore the man you
have employed, but you will not ignore me. If
your daughter is in this house she must have re-
turned here in the last few minutes. In that
case-"
But here he was again interrupted.
“ You mistake. My daughter-concerning whose
movements you seem to have formed the most
unaccountable conclusions -has been in this house
since noon. She came back with a cousin of hers
from Montclair, just as we were beginning to feel
anxious about her. Her present delay is owing to
an entirely different source. Some trouble about
her veil, I believe.”
For the second time the doctor showed intense
astonishment. “Mrs. Gretorex, do you speak the
truth?” he asked, “Miss Gretorex here and since
noon, when I myself saw her at the C- Hotel an
hour ago? You are deceiving me and I as your
intended son-in-law will not endure it. Though I


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
49
pity your daughter from the bottom of my heart, I
cannot marry her, for her conduct has shown a
duplicity to which this tardy return to fulfil her
engagement only gives an emphasis.”
It was now Mrs. Gretorex's turn to look dumb-
founded. She gazed at the doctor as if to see
whether he were in his proper senses, then she
stepped up to the detective.
“This is your work,” she cried. “You have
gone beyond your orders. Did you not receive my
telegram?"
“No, madam."
“ I sent you one as soon as my daughter came
back. Her explanations were entirely satisfactory
and there is no reason why any of us should think
of the matter again. Yet you have talked in the
very quarter where I desired you to be silent, and
the consequence is, that my daughter's happiness is
threatened and her character impeached. It is an
irreparable injury which I shall never forgive."
And leaving Mr. Gryce to digest these pleasing
words, she turned again to Dr. Cameron.
“Sir,” said she, “I do not know what excuse you
can have for asserting that you have seen my
daughter within an hour. I only know that the
fact is impossible, for Genevieve has not been out of
the house since her return at the time I mentioned,
as a dozen witnesses at least can prove to you. As
to the duplicity of which you complain, it amounts
simply to this, that she felt her health giving way


50
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
under the constant strain of our numerous prepara.
tions, and in a sudden freak, which she now de-
plores as sincerely as myself, started off for Mont.
clair without telling any one of her intention, think-
ing that the complete rest thus obtained would
benefit her, as it has; for never has she looked
more blooming or more fitted to be your wife than
at this very moment when you hesitate to accept
her."
For answer, the doctor walked up to the detec-
tive.
“ Could we have been mistaken ?” he asked.
“Was it indeed another woman?”
..“I will tell you in two minutes," was the hasty
answer; and quitting them with small ceremony,
Mr. Gryce passed out of the room.
The doctor made no effort to apologize or an-
swer Mrs. Gretorex till he came back. His whole
future destiny was trembling in the balance and it
was as much as he could do to retain his composure.
Happily the time of waiting was short. Mr. Gryce
rejoined them almost immediately, and bowing low
to the lady of the house, said in Dr. Cameron's ear,
“ Another case of mistaken identity. Mrs. Gret-
orex is correct in all her assertions. You have
made a fool of me and I show my chagrin by
simply departing.” ;
The doctor attempted no reply. He was beside
himself with joy. What, the whole dreadful busi-
ness of the last four hours a farce ? His marriage


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
51
assured, his bride untainted, no Molesworth in her
past, no possible jealousy in their future? He al.
most dropped on his knees to Mrs. Gretorex, in his
contrition; attempted explanations and paused
thinking them too inadequate, laughed, asked ques-
tions about his bride's beauty and betrayed im-
patience to see her; in short, acted like any man
suddenly transported from unhappiness to rapture.
The mother understanding him better than he
thought, perhaps, only smiled, and pointing to his
black neck-tie, asked if he had a white one in his
pocket.
His face grew suddenly long and he flushed with
intense mortification.
“I have not come quite prepared for so grand a
ceremony," he stammered. “If the guests will wait
a little longer while I send for my coat and tie"
“They must,” declared Mrs. Gretorex, calling a
servant at once and giving him one or two orders.
“ It will not take more than another half-hour, and
the band can keep them patient till then."
“Tell them I was detained by an accident on the
elevated road. As I was,” he merrily added.
“Keep them in good-nature and give me a glimpse
of my bride." .
“You impatient lover!" was all the relieved
mother could say ; but her look was a promise, and
in a few minutes, a trim and quiet girl came trip-
ping to the door, and smiling coquettishly, showed
him a room at the other end of the hall, saying:


52
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Miss Gretorex is all dressed, sir, and will speak
to you for a minute if you desire it."
He did not linger an instant. Something,—was
it love, or only that old pride of his restored to its full
life, burned in his breast, and made his short walk
down the hall a remembrance of delight to him?
Her door just ajar, was like a beacon of hope, and
when he saw it open wider and caught the one
short glimpse she allowed him of her tall and elegant
figure in its shimmering robes and misty veil, he felt
his pulses beat as never before, and scarcely needed
the charming smile she gave him to complete a hap-
piness which at that moment was supreme.
“I have kept you waiting,” she murmured; and
he found no answer for looking at her eyes, that,
seen thus through her veil, possessed a beauty and a
glow which made her absolutely beautiful. “I am all
ready now," she cried, “ but mamma says that you are
not. Naughty man, to go careering down-town to
look after some patient or other, when you should
have been thinking only of me."
He laughed, feeling himself to be another being,
and she another being from the man and woman of
a week ago. Then he looked at her again, and ut-
tered some tender compliment which made her
blush deliciously, and then in answer to a wave of
her hand, that seemed to say : “Enough!” was
about to withdraw, when he saw her eyes suddenly
dilate and a look of such shock and fear cross her
face that he involuntarily turned and glanced down


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
53
the hall behind him for its cause. There was noth-
ing there, absolutely nothing; only the figure of a
hair-dresser or some such woman, who in cloak and
veil, stood with her little bag on her arm waiting to
enter, and astonished at the ease with which his
mind lent itself to the most startling conjectures, he
turned back to reassure himself by another look
at his bride, when the door which had been swung
open between them, softly closed, and he found
himself shut out from her presence, with a new
memory and a new fear to make discord of the
notes of the wedding-march he was soon to hear.


A STARTLING INTERRUPTION.
THE Gretorex mansion was eminently adapted
for a large gathering. Built since the introduction
of the modern styles, it had intricacies and surprises
innumerable ; bu'. it had also many and various
rooms of spacious proportions opening into hall-ways
so wide and upon stair-cases so ample, that had the
number of guests reached the full thousand that had
been invited, there wuld have been sufficient ac.
commodation or all. So numerous indeed were the
rooms on the first Hoor and so admirably were they
disposed, it had not been found necessary to ask the
guests to ascend the stairs at all. Thus it was that
Dr. Cameron had met friends on the landings but
none on the floor above, and thus it was that upon
his return to the rooni which had been allotted to
him, he could pace its length for twenty minutes with.
out an interruption. And a friend's face, a jovial word
would have been so welcome! For he did not want
to think, and was impatient at the solitude which
forced him to do so. When the die has been cast
when our future is decided upon, we wish to reach
the culmination without delay, and Dr. Cameron
54


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
55
weary with many and varied emotions, only longed
for the moment when amid music and bustle, the
flash of lights and the murmur of voices, he should
lead his young bride into the presence that would
irrevocably seal their fate. For in these long and
heavy minutes of waiting he had something besides
his thoughts to contend with, he had impressions, a
consciousness almost amounting to an intuition, that
something strange, something dark, something
entirely out of harmony with this scene of light
and joy was taking place near him :-in his sight
if he could but see, in his hearing if he could but
hear; at all events near him, awesomely near, as
near as that closed door towards which he cast
hurried and shrinking glances every time a turn
in his walk brought him within view of it.
That he had no reason, or at the most the slight-
est reason, for this sensation, did not make it any
less vivid or powerful. Right or wrong it had got
a strong hold upon him and swayed him so com-
pletely that if the door I have spoken of had opened
at one of the moments his eye was upon it and re-
vealed a grizzly skeleton standing on its threshold,
he would not have felt the shock as much as he did
the ringing bursts of melody that now and then
soared up from the violins below. Yet in his heart
he knew that he was but the fool of his imagination
and that nothing more serious than the re-arranging
of a lock of hair or the buttoning on of a refractory
pair of gloves by the common-place hand of the


56
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
woman he had seen enter there, could be going on
in this room his fancy peopled with shapes of fear
and despair.
For he was a man of common-sense and knew
the fashionable world well and was moreover quite
aware as a physician how far a man's imagination
can carry him when his nerves have been unstrung
by a series of such potent sensations as had visited
him in the last four hours. Let that door once
open and the bride step forth and all would be
hope and cheer again. He knew it even while he
was shuddering over the conviction that it had
opened, and that a hand had been thrust out in a
gesture of silent appeal and as quickly again with.
drawn.
The coming of the servant with the articles nec-
essary to complete his toilet, was like cold water
dashed upon a man heated with fever. It righted
him immediately. As he tied his neck-tie and fas-
tened his gloves he felt himself to be no more a
dreamer of nightmares, but Dr. Cameron, known
throughout all the city for his practical common-
sense and sound judgment. He even laughed in
his old, easy fashion as he peered down the hall and
saw the servant who had waited upon him walk up
and knock with the utmost assurance on the door
he had been so long and fearfully watching. Nor
did he feel himself to have been any the less a fool
when in a moment later he beheld it open and
caught a glimpse of his bride's white veil and


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
57
sweeping train as she gave her answer to the man
and then waited with the door half shut for the
summons to descend. As he had promised him-
self it would be, all was cheer and hope again ; nor
in the bustle or preparation that presently followed
did he become conscious of a thought out of har-
mony with the scene till, suddenly, as he was half
way down the stairs, he felt his bride lean a little
heavily on his arm, and turning to look at her, per-
ceived, not a woman, not an automaton even, but
a spectre, whose glassy eyes fixed upon vacancy,
froze the blood in his veins.
What did it mean? Was she mad or was she-
He did not stop to finish his thought; he clutched
her by the arm and gently but firmly spoke her
name. A shiver seemed to go through her, then
she turned her head and slowly, painfully, under his
gaze her lips took on the semblance of a smile so
forced, so meaningless, that he stopped her where
she was, and pointing to the surging sea of faces
below, exclaimed:
“They are waiting for us; the minister has his
book open, and your parents are already standing
on each side of him; but if you do not wish to
marry me, if there is any impediment in the way,
or if you feel I cannot be to you the husband you
desire, say so, and we will turn back. No moment
is too late before the minister has uttered the final
words."
But her eyes which had opened fearfully as he


56
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
woman he had seen enter there, could be going on
in this room his fancy peopled with shapes of fear
and despair.
For he was a man of common-sense and knew
the fashionable world well and was moreover quite
aware as a physician how far a man's imagination
can carry him when his nerves have been unstrung
by a series of such potent sensations as had visited
him in the last four hours. Let that door once
open and the bride step forth and all would be
hope and cheer again. He knew it even while he
was shuddering over the conviction that it had
opened, and that a hand had been thrust out in a
gesture of silent appeal and as quickly again with-
drawn.
The coming of the servant with the articles nec-
essary to complete his toilet, was like cold water
dashed upon a man heated with fever. It righted
him immediately. As he tied his neck-tie and fas-
tened his gloves he felt himself to be no more a
dreamer of nightmares, but Dr. Cameron, known
throughout all the city for his practical common-
sense and sound judgment. He even laughed in
his old, easy fashion as he peered down the hall and
saw the servant who had waited upon him walk up
and knock with the utmost assurance on the door
he had been so long and fearfully watching. Nor
did he feel himself to have been any the less a fool
when in a moment later he beheld it open and
caught a glimpse of his bride's white veil and





58
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
began to speak, closed softly as he finished, and
murmuring coldly, “Let us proceed,” she stepped
down another stair. :.
He followed her and spoke again.
“ I cannot go on, Genevieve,” he persisted, “ till
you assure me of one thing. Is your heart mine?
Stands there no other man between us whose mem-
ory makes this moment, frightful to you? If there
is-”,.
.
“There is not,” came from her lips, now showing
less pallid under this questioning. “I am ill, fear-
fully ill; that is all.”
He looked at her. He had known sickness which
had changed a person's whole aspect in less time
than had passed since he saw her blooming and bril-
liant a half hour before. And such might have at-
tacked her, he could not tell.
..." Are you too ill. to go on?” he asked.
“ No.”
“You can bear the effort and excitement ?"
“I can bear anything."
His foot moved towards the edge of the step on
which he stood... :
.
Genevieve?”..."
He had stopped again. ;
“Yes,” she murmured, wearily..
“Do you love me?”
Her form, which up to that moment had held it-
self erect by the mere force of a will exerted to the


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
utmost, suddenly yielded and expressed in every
curve, a feminine softness.
“With all my heart,” she murmured.
“Then,” said he, “ I am content.” And his foot
passed over the edge of the step.
There was no further delay. In a moment they
were at the foot of the stairs, and in another had
entered the parlor under the gaze of five hundred'
pairs of eyes. As they did so a murmur expressive of
something more than admiration arose behind them,
and Dr. Cameron, tortured by anxiety, cast another
look at his bride. She was pale and her eyes
were surrounded by great circles, but it was a woman
who moved beside him and a determined woman
too, and the change brought comfort to his heart
and made the rest of his walk down the room less of
an ordeal than their entrance had been.
The clergyman was an old man and had doubt-
less married a thousand couples. To him there was
nothing strange in a pallid and weary-looking bride,
and a nervous, deeply excited bridegroom. He gave
them a benevolent glance, lifted his book and began
the service. But there were some persons present,
relatives and friends of the contracting parties, who
felt there was something unusual in the affair and
craned their necks to get a glimpse of the bride's
face, wholly forgetful of the splendor of her jewels,
and the priceless lace of her veil which under other
circumstances would have attracted all their atten.
tion. The bride, however, did not lift her eyes and


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
when she spoke in answer to the minister's questions,
the reply she gave was uttered in a voice so low that
no one heard it but the bridegroom and the minister.
But this is not unusual with brides, and the ceremony
proceeded, and the time came for placing the ring
on her finger.
But here a difficulty arose. For some reason
best known to herself, Miss Gretorex had preferred
to be married without bridesmaids. There was
therefore no one at hand to assist her in taking off
her glove, and her own agitation making her un-
equal to the task, she found herself obliged after an
ineffectual effort or so, to stretch out her hand for
the ring, with the glove still on it. Dr. Cameron,
feeling for her embarrassment, accepted the situation
with his usual sang froid, and holding the ring on
the first joint-for it would not slip all the way
down on a finger so protected,—was on the point of
uttering the sacred vow, to love, cherish and protect
her, when through the hush of the moment, there
came an interruption so startling and so wild that
every head turned, and more than one rosy cheek
grew pale. It was a scream, an unearthly and ter-
rified scream! Coming from where? No one could
tell. Speaking of what? Fear, dismay, anguish,
anything, everything that was out of accord with
the scene it had so weirdly interrupted.
Dr. Cameron, thinking of the banshee's warning,
stretched out his arm to sustain his bride, whom
this last and most fearful shock must surely rob of


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
61
all strength. But he soon found that she needed
no assistance. Instead of succumbing to the general
fright, she seemed to rise above it, and contrary to
every expectation of those about her, her head rose
and her lip grew firm till she grew absolutely
masterful in her earnestness and determination.
The minister caught her look, the bridegroom the
infection of her spirit and the ceremony proceeded
almost without the break of even a momentary
hesitation. With the utterance of the benediction,
a great sigh of relie, rose from the vast assemblage,
and upon the bride and groom turning to receive
their congratulations, no one marvelled to observe
her cheek so pale, or his brow so troubled, for the
echo of that unexplained shriek was still ringing in
all ears; and to superstitious minds if to no others,
there was an omen in this weird interruption that
was anything but reassuring.
Mr. and Mrs. Gretorex alone preserved their
usual imperturbability. With smiling faces they
greeted their child and shook hands with their new
son-in-law. Then as the wonder and dismay about
them took speech, and such phrases as “ What do
you think it was ! Did you ever hear anything like
it," began to be whispered about, Mr. Gretorex
stepped forward and remarked :
“We have a servant who is subject to fits of ner-
vous excitement. It was her voice you heard."
And immediately the countenances of all brightened
and the line of friends and acquaintances began to


62
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
form and congratulations were offered and the scene
regained its lost cheerfulness and brilliancy.
Only in two hearts the shadow yet rested, and
upon two brows apprehension had set its seal too
deeply for a word to drive it away. Dr. Cameron
and his bride did not believe in the explanation
which had been offered, and to one of them at least,
the future held terror which made the present or-
deal of smiles, bows and mechanical hand-shaking a
torture which was only made endurable by the fear
of re-arousing suspicion in the breasts of the guests.
And even this thought lost its sustaining power at
last, and Dr. Cameron who was constantly on the
watch for signs of weakening on the part of his
bride, turned and drew up a chair for her, saying:
“You are overtaxing your strength. Take it
easier, my darling.”.
A smile, extraordinarily sweet, answered this his
first attempt at conjugal tenderness, but it soon
Aitted away, leaving her paler and more hollow-
eyed than before...
:: “I cannot stand this long," she murmured. “I
must know what that scream meant. Do you think
I could be excused from receiving any more con-
gratulations? I want to go to my room." She
paused with an irrepressible shudder ; then contin-
ued, “I must go to my room if only for a moment.
I cannot breathe here."
“There is your mother,” he rejoined, surprised
and yet touched by her aspect of appeal. She


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
63
understands all these matters ; let her manage it
for you."
And anxious to save his newly made wife all the
effort he could, he leaned forward, and touching
Mrs. Gretorex on the arm, whispered:
“Genevieve is really feeling quite ill. Is there
no way of releasing her from all this nonsense?
She wants to go to her room.”
The haughty mother surveyed her daughter in
surprise..
: "What is the matter?" she asked. “You were
well enough this afternoon.'
: “I know," responded her daughter with an effort;
“but that scream,”
“Pshaw! havn't you heard Margaret cry out be-
fore? You are foolish to mind it ; everything is all
right now.”
“I know," was the low reply, “but,” and here
the young bride made an effort visible to all—“I
cannot be myself till I know that it was Margaret
who screamed. Send and see for me."
The mother's lip curled but she did not refuse
her daughter's request. Beckoning a servant to
her, she whispered him an order and turned again
to her guests. Mrs. Cameron endeavored to do the
same, but her smile had become ghastly and she
committed more than one gaucherie. At length
the servant not returning, she gave up all attempt
to sustain her part, and sat literally shivering, her
eye on the door by which the servant had disap-


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
peared as if upon his reappearance alone her life
and reason depended.
Dr. Cameron, who lost nothing of all this,
even while endeavoring to cover up her abstraction
by renewed attention to the guests crowding
around them, was about to suggest the advisability
of her following out her first impulse and going to
her room, when suddenly her whole bearing changed,
and she rose with a hurried apology and hastened
towards the door. Her husband followed, but her
action was so quick and the throng so great that
she escaped him for the moment, and he did not
see her again till she appeared on the stairs going
rapidly up.
She was moving eagerly and showed no signs of
weakness, so he did not hasten, there being more
than one of his particular friends in the way, ready
with jest or congratulation to detain him. Some
few minutes therefore had elapsed before he reached
her door. It was closed and he knocked, expecting
it to be opened immediately. But though he re-
peated his knock no answer came from within, and
irritated beyond measure by this succession of in-
comprehensible occurrences, he shook the handle of
the door and spoke her name with decision.
It had the desired effect, for in a moment the
key was turned in the lock and the door opened
just wide enough to show her face. He was startled
to perceive that the room behind her was perfectly
dark.


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
“I will be out in a moment,” she declared, and
smiled a hurried dismissal.
But he was not going to face the crowd below
again, so he did not turn at her bidding, but kept
his place, which seeing, she stepped out into the
hall and said:
"I am feeling better. If you will give me ten
minutes more rest and quiet, I think I shall be able
to go down stairs again.”
Why did not Dr. Cameron feel relieved at this,
especially as she was looking better? He could not
tell.
“Are you sure," he inquired, “ that you are best
alone? Shall I not stay with you and take you
down?"
But her look trembled with an appeal so urgent,
she seemed so anxious for solitude and repose, that
he had not the heart to urge his new claims upon
her. He therefore withdrew after a comforting
word or two, determined to step into the room
which he had occupied before the ceremony and
there await her coming. But before he could
reach its threshold he was stopped by the servant
who had been sent by Mrs. Gretorex to make in-
quiries about Margaret.
“O, sir," inquired this man, “is Mrs. Cameron in
her room? I want to tell her about Margaret."
“And what have you to tell?” asked the doctor.
“Nothing, sir, except that Margaret isn't in the
house at all. She went out after she got her sup-


THE GRETORTX WEDDING.
67
“ Pardon me," she entreated, “ but I have changed
my mind. I do not see any reason why we should
go down stairs again before all those people. I am
not well, and they know it, and you hear yourself
what a good time they are having without us. Let
us go away at once. I do so long to be out of the
house-and-and-you will please me so if you say
yes."
She had laid her ungloved hand upon his arm,
but she quickly withdrew it. Her eyes however,
continued raised to his with a look of which he felt
the eagerness and also the inscrutability. He did
not know what to say.
“ We are going to Washington are we not?" she
now half interrogated, half asserted.
He replied that this had been his intention.
“ Then we shall have to start soon, for it is a long
ride to Jersey City.".
“ I had expected—” he began, but he did not
continue. Why waste words when she was only
asking him to do what his own better judgment told
him was best.
“You will go ? " she persisted.
“ As soon as you can get ready."
Her look of relief was unmistakable. She smiled
and a tint of color came into her cheek.
“You are good,” she declared, warmly. Then
as a loud swell of music rose from below, she
glanced nervously at her dress and drew back. “I
have to put on my travelling suit,” she remarked.


68
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“When that is done we will call mother. Wait for
me in your room." And with a nod she glided from
him, her long train sweeping behind her, with reck-
less haste.
He watched her for a moment, his brows bent
but his heart in a glow. He did not understand
her but at this crisis he did not know that he wished
to. The fascination of her look might depart when
her trouble did, and he was not yet ready to see it
go even though he grieved to have her ill, and felt
a pang of real pain at the sight of her hollow eyes
whose glance he had lately found so brilliant.
He was therefore looking in her direction when
she reëntered her room, and still looking when in
less than a minute she came out again, and peering
carefully on all sides, slipped up to a door near by,
opened it, and discovering nothing to disturb her,
passed hurriedly in. She carried her suit, hat, and a
small travelling-satchel on her arm. It made him
think of his own clothes and of another fact that
was slightly embarrassing. This was, that his trunk
was at his own house and his money also. Neither
had he any carriage at his disposal, having dismissed
his own as we remember at the elevated station
down-town. He would therefore have to request
Mrs. Gretorex to order up her horses which was
certainly an awkward piece of business, and he
would have to carry his bride to his own house be-
fore he could start with her for Washington.
But these were small matters after the serious


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
69
anxieties he had already experienced ; and deter.
mining to make light of the whole affair, he sent
word to Mrs. Gretorex that circumstances compelled
him to take his bride away at an earlier hour than
he had contemplated, and asked if he might be ac-
commodated with the use of her carriage as his own
was not at his command.
This brought the lady to his room as he had :
expected, and a short passage at arms occurred
between them which ended in his wishes being
respected and the carriage ordered. But Mrs.
Gretorex was greatly disappointed and did not
hesitate to say so. It was consequently a relief to
Dr. Cameron to have their interview interrupted as
it shortly was by the appearance of his wife, fully
dressed and ready for departure.
“Oh!” she murmured, as she saw them together,
and set down the satchel she carried in some con-
fusion. But she speedily recovered her self-posses-
sion, and advancing lightly, observed with careless
ease,
"Sorry to leave you so soon, mother. It would
be pleasant to stay, of course, but I had an awful
shock when that scream was heard, and Dr. Cameron
thinks as I do, that we had better go while I have
the strength to do so. You will pardon us, won't
you, especially as you will see us so soon again ?"
Mrs. Gretorex did not answer; she was examining
her daughter's dress.
“Well I never saw you look so well in olive be-


70
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
fore," she observed, at last, as the daughter turned
almost petulantly aside. “And how that new dress.
maker does fit you. Your figure looks as well again
as it did in Madame Dubois' dresses. Anyone
would have declared you had gained five pounds, if
they did not stop to see that it was the skill of the
modiste that had rounded you out so gracefully. I
will never interfere in such matters again, my love."
The young bride flushed, as if this obtrusion of
feminine trivialties into a departure of this nature
was especially distasteful to her. But she said
nothing, and lifted up her face to be kissed, in the
cold and somewhat ceremonious way Dr. Cameron
had himself been accustomed to. “Good-bye,
mamma,” she murmured. “Say the same to Papa
for me. I—Oh, where is Peter ; I have a trunk to
go down.”
“Peter is coming now. Good-bye, Dr. Cameron.
Bring my daughter back as happy as she was four
hours ago, and I shall have nothing more to ask of
you." And Mrs. Gretorex stepped aside as if to
make room for them to pass out.
But though Dr. Cameron, animated by her gest.
ure, led the way to the door, his bride showed no
disposition to follow him.
“ I will wait till Peter has taken my trunk,” she
declared.
And though he endeavored to urge her to de-
scend while the hall was comparatively empty, she
refused to do so, and not only lingered till Peter


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
71
appeared, but persisted in going with him herself
into her room where she showed him her trunk,
strapped and ready by the door, and watched him
till he had carried it safely out.
“I don't see where the maids are," murmured
Mrs. Gretorex.
But her daughter not minding the implied criti-
cism, advanced with forced gayety, and taking Dr.
Cameron's arm, announced that she was now ready
to depart.
“I will just close and lock your door," said Mrs.
Gretorex.
But her daughter, saying there would be plenty
of time for doing this after her departure, led her
mother towards the stairs, and smilingly waited till
she had seen her long damask train disappear across
the first landing. Then she looked up at Dr. Cam-
eron and they ran rapidly down.
“We will slip out as quietly as we can,” she whis-
pered. But the company had already got wind of
their departure and there were many good-byes to
be answered, and much merriment, to which Gene-
vieve lent herself with a good grace though her
husband could see that her eye scarcely left her
mother's tall figure, and that the grasp of her hand
on his arm tightened if ever that mother made the
least movement as if about to withdraw.
Finally the last handshake was given, the last
jest uttered and they found themselves at the car-
riage door. “Now," cried he, “ we shall soon be on


72
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
our way." And he held the door open for her to
enter.
But she was not yet ready. “I have something
to say to Peter, first,” she declared. And slipping
up to the old servant, who was just about to reënter
the house, she thanked him and gave him what
seemed a final gift.
The man bowed and went hurriedly in. She cast
one look behind her, sighed, or so her husband
thought, then turned quickly and stepped into the
carriage. The doctor followed, the door was shut
with a bang, and the carriage rolled away. As it
did so, the young husband felt the pressure of his
wife's head on his shoulder, and looking down into
her face perceived that she had fainted.


CHAPTER VI.
ANOTHER BRIDE.
MR. GRyce had observed that he was getting
old. He never felt older than he did that night
when after the discovery of the mistake he had
made, he turned humiliated from the presence of
Mrs. Gretorex and the man whom he had caused to
suffer such a succession of serious and wholly
unnecessary emotions.
He was unused to making mistakes. He had
always been so wary, so exact, so sure of his pre-
mises, that he could look back upon few cases where
his conclusions had been really at fault, and on
none before where the outcome of his efforts left
him in what some of his young and possibly envi-
ous rivals might call, a ridiculous position.
“It is a new sensation,” he muttered, as he passed
down the elegant staircase on his way out. “Well,
a new sensation is something. I have heard some
men say they would give a good deal to experience
one. But as for me, give me the old ones; they are
certainly more satisfactory." And with a bitter
smile he prepared to thread his way through the
brilliant throng that circulated between the stair-
73


74
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
case and the side door by which he had entered and
by which he was expecting to go out.
But before he had worked his way half through,
he paused, stepped aside and took up his station
against the wall in a position that gave him a good
view of the scene, without attracting too much at-
tention to himself. “Since I am at a swell wedding
I might as well see the bride,” he continued to him-
self, turning his gaze however in any other direc-
tion than that by which she was expected to
descend. “If she looks more like her photograph
than the other girl does, well and good, I am an old
fool and it is about time for me to take down my
sign and shut up shop. But if on the contrary, she
looks less like it; if her expression varies or she is
fairer or larger than one would suppose from the
picture they gave me, then I can lay the fault on
the photographer and regain some portion at least
of my self-esteem.” And unmindful of the curious
glances which now and then found him out, he
retained his place through the weary minutes of
waiting that now ensued, amusing himself as usual
in gathering together such odds and ends of talk as
floated by him and stowing them away in the
store-house of his brain, which already held so
many secrets even of some of those who passed him
by in gay apparel without a thought that the grave,
quiet, rather benignant-looking man who was so oc-
cupied with the device on Mr. Gretorex's great hall-


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
75
clock, was he who held in his keeping their fortune
and possibly their good name.
At length, with a sigh of relief that ran through
the length of those vast parlors, the strains of the
Wedding March were heard, and Mr. Gryce, whose
interest in the afore-mentioned device now became
absolutely absorbing, shifted his portly figure a step
or so, while the throng at his side pressed back and
a path was made for Mr. and Mrs. Gretorex, and
then, after what seemed a long and unnecessary
interval, for the bride and groom, who, contrary to
the usual arrangement, descended together. They
passed near, very near that great hall clock, so near
that the bride's veil brushed the homely habiliments
of the man who stood there, but she did not notice
this nor to all appearance did he, for his eyes never
left the clock though a careful observer might have
perceived that his lips pressed a little closer together
after she went by and that he did not wait for her
to pass over the threshold of the parlor door before
taking his departure.
But no one thought of him. All eyes were on
the bride, and little did any one think, least of all
she whom it most concerned, that the faint, half-sup-
pressed click which they had just heard denoted the
withdrawal of one whose powers of observation
were more to be dreaded than were those of the
whole vast crowd he had left behind him. If she
had-But our interest is not at present with the
bride, pale and troubled as she is, but with this man


BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
who but a short time ago entered the house with
feelings of almost beneficent concern for its
inmates, only to leave it now, with a sore and humili-
ated heart.
For in the one glimpse he caught of the bride-
and he saw her though he did not appear to do so
-he had discerned nothing to relieve his dissatis-
faction with himself. If the other girl was like the
picture, this pale, haughty self-contained woman
was the picture itself. There was no mistaking
this, much as his pride would have been gratified
to have found it otherwise. Details that were lack-
ing in the other girl's countenance were here, and
an expression which made him acknowledge to him-
self that he would henceforth trust no man's eyes,
not even his own, in this delicate matter of identifi-
cation, the least shade of a look making sometimes
all the difference between one person and another.
He went out of the house feeling as I have said very
old, and he even was conscious of a twinge or two
of rheumatism as he stepped down the icy steps and
prepared to take his way round the house to the
street. For this reason perhaps, and also because
the walk was more or less slippery, he went very
slowly, so that he was just at the corner of the house
when that startling scream was heard, which as we
know so seriously disturbed the minds of those who
were witnessing the ceremony. A muffled cry it was,
and to those outside sounded as if it came from the
upper story of the house. But when the detective


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
77
paused and looked up at the windows overhead he
saw nothing, and being in a very indifferent mood,
went on his way, remembering the occurrence only
as a sort of lugubrious echo to the rather melan-
choly thoughts in which he had been at that
moment indulging.
His course was toward the city. He took it
direct, getting on the elevated train at One Hun-
dred and Twenty-fifth Street and getting off again
at Twenty-third. Why Twenty-third? Was it not
late enough for him to go home? He evidently
did not think so. Without hesitation and with a
certain determination of manner, he went immedi.
ately to the C- Hotel.
Let us follow him.
“Well, I suppose the wedding has come off."
These were his words to the clerk who was still
at his desk in the office.
The clerk looked at him and laughed.
“No," was his quick rejoinder, “it didn't. The
bride absconded."
“ What is that?".
Mr. Gryce's tone was quite sharp. His face re.
sumed its old expression.
“She ran off; didn't wait for the clergyman;
afraid to risk herself with such a glum-looking cus-
tomer as Molesworth I suppose. I can't say I
blame her.”
“Humph! You interest me. And at what hour
was this ; how soon after we left ?"


78
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“In a few minutes I should say; for you had not
been gone more than half an hour when the expect.
ant bridegroom came with the Reverend Mr. Pease
at his heels, and she was not here then nor had
been for some little time."
“Who saw her go out?"
“ The hall boy."
“No one else?"
“I think not."
“ Didn't she leave any word behind her ? "
“Yes, a note; it was lying on the table in her
room. Molesworth got it.”
“The door then was open?"
“It was unlocked."
“Curious. There seems to be some difficulty in
the way of wedlock to-night. I have just come
from a wedding and the bride was three quarters
or more of an hour late. But Molesworth as you
call him-how did he take it?".
." That's hard telling; he looked grim enough,
but then he was none too cheerful looking before.
Anything but a bridegroom in appearance at any
time. But then, it was rather hard lines for him.
'Twould make any man angry; Mr. Pease on hand
and no bride! I declare, I felt cheap myself; and
the chambermaid I believe shed tears, grieving over
the loss of the good fee she expected, I suppose."
“Yes, it's quite thrilling, quite romantic," quoth
Mr. Gryce, enthusiastically. Then in quieter tones,
remarked. “You were all in the room, then ?".


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
79
“No, I didn't know anything about it till Dr.
Molesworth came down, and giving me the price of
the room, remarked that there would be no wed.
ding at present, the young lady having preferred to
wait till she could have her friends about her."
“Ah!” ejaculated Mr Gryce.
“ Neat, wasn't it?" remarked the clerk. “But
he is no fool; and though I knew on the spot that
she had run away for good, I couldn't help giving
him credit for coolness. But it was all in his words,
his look was terrible."
Mr. Gryce's eyes fixed themselves on the small
lamp used to light cigars.
“I can imagine it," said he.
“ But he wasn't tragic, not a bit of it," continued
the clerk. “Not even when he took out the note
he had evidently received from the girl, and burned
it in the flame of that jet.”
“Oh! he burned it, did he?"
“Down to the very end."
“And then went away?"
“ Directly.”
“Well, this has been a delightful evening !" com-
mented Mr. Gryce ; and he lounged away a few more
minutes in the office, then went out and entering a
drug-store near by, searched for an address in the
directory.
“I cannot sleep, why then not amuse myself,” his
look seemed to say, as glancing up at the clock, he


80
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
passed again into the street and betook himself
westward.
Certainly one does not run across such a compli-
cation every day, and when one is a detective, why
not enjoy now and then the advantages of his posi.
tion.
Mr. Gryce went up the steps of a four-story brick
building to which was attached a doctor's sign.
A middle-aged woman, of neat enough appear-
ance, answered his ring, after a short delay.
“Is the doctor in ?” he asked.
She shook her head, and glancing at a slate that
hung on one of the pegs of the old fashioned hall.
rack, declared,
“ He won't be home before to-morrow."
“ And I am so ill,” murmured the detective, with
an air of great weakness. He had read her charac-
ter at a glance.
“ You ?” she exclaimed.
“And I have come so far," he went on. “I
thought surely I should see him to-night, if I came
late enough. I know he is going to be married soon
but-"
“ Married !” The interruption was full of surprise
and incredulity. “Married! Dr. Molesworth! I
guess you are mistaken.”
“O, no," the old gentleman persisted, assuming
with every instant a look of greater distress.
"I had it from one who knows him intimately.
He is going to be married ; but sensible girls don't


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
81
keep their lovers out too late, and I thought I might
find him in; I wish I had, for when I have these
turns nothing but opium will help me, and the drug-
clerks won't give it to me without a doctor's pre.
scription. I must go on."
But the old lady's sympathy as well as curiosity
had been aroused. She was a widow and a board-
ing-house-keeper, but she had a heart and was not
afraid of showing it.
She therefore stopped him as he hobbled towards
the door, and showing him the way into the parlor,
asked him to sit down by the fire and warm him-
self a moment before going out.
"I am sitting up,” she explained, “because there
are still four or five of my young meni out, and as
I do not give night-keys to anyone but the doctor,
I have to sit up, or ask some of my hard-working
girls to do so. It is dreary waiting sometimes, but
on the whole, they are considerate, and I don't
complain.”
Then as she saw or thought she saw the old
gentleman's face grow brighter in the really genial
glow of the good hard-coal fire before them, she
asked in a hospitable tone, if he had ever heard
whom the doctor was going to marry.
He shook his gray hairs indifferently, picked out
with his glance a coal in the fire-place, and began
to study it intently.
"I never paid it any attention," said he. “ I am
getting too old to busy myself much about such


82
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
matters ; and girls are all the same to me, unless it
be one girl,” he added, with a half-senile half-
pathetic smile, taking from his pocket as he did so a
photograph which he looked at fondly.
“ Your daughter?" inquired the old lady.
“My grand-daughter,” he replied, with enthusi.
asm.
She leaned over as women will at the sight of
any picture in the hand of another, and quietly
looked at it.
“Good heavens," she exclaimed, “it is Mildred
Farley."
“ Mildred Farley," he repeated, in mild surprise,
“I never heard that name. This is Joanna Hands-
combe."
“Let me see it," cried she, and Mr. Gryce, greatly
pleased at the success of his trick, handed her the
picture of Genevieve Gretorex, satisfied that if this
good woman continued to find it like the Mildred
Farley she had mentioned, he should find that
Mildred Farley was the name of the young woman
· he had himself first taken for the original of this
picture, and in whose fate despite his reason and
his years he had found himself so much interested
that he had come here at this late hour of the night
to learn her name, and if possible her dwelling.
place.
His success surpassed his hopes. The old lady
looked at the picture, shook her head, and looked
again.


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
83
" How these photographs can deceive," cried she.
“If I had not stopped to look at this twice, I would
have sworn it was Mildred Farley's face, but I see
now that she wears her hair quite different, and that
she is older and much better dressed than Mildred
could ever hope to be. Nevertheless, there is a
very striking similarity and I should like to see
Miss-Miss—"
“ Handscombe," put in the detective.
“And Mildred together. It would be a pleasing
study.” And she stared long and earnestly at the
picture, winding up with: “ I should like to show it
to Mildred.”
This was putting herself exactly in the position
desired by Mr. Gryce.
“You can do so," he observed, “if you do not
have to carry it far nor keep it long. Does Mildred
live anywhere near you? Can you see her to-
night?"
“She lives in my fourth story front room, sir ;
Mildred Farley is one of my boarders."
Mr. Gryce stroked his trembling right knee with
a very loving hand. “One of your boarders," he
repeated. “She is doubtless then up-stairs asleep."
“No, poor girl, no. She is a dressmaker and
sometimes does not close her eyes till one o'clock
at night. She is not asleep, but come to think of
it, she is not in the house at all. She went away
for a short vacation a few days ago, and though she
promised to be home this afternoon, I believe she


84
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
did not come. It has always been my hope that
Dr. Molesworth would marry her. She is a lovely
girl and he is a very fine man. Why, then,
shouldn't they come together?”
“ And what makes you think they will not?
Why shouldn't it be she he is going to marry ?"
“ Why? Because they would have told me. He
knows and she knows there is nothing I wish so
much. It would be preposterous for them to keep
it to themselves after all I have said. No, if Dr.
Molesworth is going to marry anyone (and I don't
believe yet he is), it must be some ridiculous chit of
a girl he has met away from here; and Mildred-
why, Lena!”
This exclamation was caused by the appearance
at the door of a young girl who the moment she
saw Mr. Gryce, shrank back and started to run
away.
But that emphatic Lena ! stopped her, and in a
moment the old lady was in the hall; a whispered
conference ensued, followed by the reëntrance of
the good woman with a note in her hand.
“Well, I never !” she exclaimed, looking first at
the letter she held and then at the feeble figure of
the old man who had risen with well feigned indif-
ference as if to go. A note from Dr. Molesworth
which he left on purpose for me! and that girl for.
got to give it to me till now! What can he have
to say !” And breaking the seal, she read the few
enclosed lipes with a growing wonder at ended in


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
85
the joyous exclamation of “Good gracious, it is
Mildred, after all! He is going to marry her to-
night, and bring her home to-morrow. Well, I will
give up. Never a word to me about it, and I so
fond of them both! I don't understand it, folks
are so queer.” And she fluttered to and fro in ill-
disguised joy, talking and muttering to herself,
while Mr. Gryce pulled his muffler about him and
began to move slowly towards the door.
"I declare," she broke in, as her attention was
recalled to him by this movement, “ it does seem a
pity for you to go out again into the cold. If you
think you would be better here, I have an empty
room." But at this moment a carriage was heard
to stop before the door, and startled into a new
train of thought by this unwonted occurrence, she
moved towards the front windows, exclaiming: “I
do believe they have come now!”.
But at her first glance through the curtains, she
drew back with a frightened air, and crying, “Oh,
what can this mean,” hurried towards the door with
every sign of intense agitation.
Mr. Gryce at once took her place at the window,
but he did not look out, for at that moment a man's
voice was heard in the hall and the wary detective
thought it prudent to resume his role of the self-
absorbed, semi-oblivious old man whose infirmities
were so engrossing he had neither eyes nor ears for
what went on about him. It was well he did so,
for in another moment his imperturbability received


86
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
a great shock by the certainly unlooked for en.
trance of two men bearing a burden which at one
glance showed itself to be the inert forın of a young
woman. From the appearance of one of these he
judged him to be Dr. Molesworth. They were fol-
lowed by the landlady, crying and wringing her
hands.
“ Mildred, Mildred, what has happened to you,
poor girl !" came in piercing tones from the latter,
as the sad burden having been deposited on a sofa,
she approached, and drew aside the cloak, which
had hitherto concealed the face.
“O God! how pale she is, how coid! Doctor, has
she only fainted or is she-".
“Dead," came from his lips in deep and thrilling
tones, while his gaze sought the landlady's face and
rested there with an intentness he might not have
displayed had he noticed the old man mumbling
and chattering to himself in a corner.
“And what has killed her? What has destroyed
my poor girl, the very night you hoped to marry
her?"
“Shall I tell you ?" The doctor had waved the
man aside who had assisted him in his fearful task,
and now stood with folded arms side by side with
the landlady, looking down upon the still, set face
which with the blue robe that enshrouded the form
were already so well known to the watching de.
tective. “She preferred this bridal to the one I
had planned for her. Now you know all.” And


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
with just one more deep and searching look at the
landlady's startled face, he walked up to his assist-
ant.
“ That is all," said he, “I will do the rest. The
coroner will probably be here soon and—Who are
you?"
This was said to a smali, slight man who at this
moment appeared in the doorway.
"I am a detective, sir," was the reply, and he
was doubtless going to say more, but he caught an
unexpected sight of Mr. Gryce, and paused in some
confusion. He had recognized a superior.
As for Mr. Gryce himself he had scarcely noticed
the young man; he was too intent upon the doctor
who at the utterance of the word detective had
wheeled suddenly about with the evident intention
of hiding his surprise. But a mirror hung opposite
him and in this the watchful eye of Mr. Gryce
detected such an expression of uncontrollable
shock and anxiety that he inwardly congratulated
himself over the curiosity which had drawn him to
this house.
The confusion, if there was such, in the physi.
cian's mind was but momentary. In an instant he
turned, and confronting the intruder, asked with
some severity:
“And what work is there for a detective here?
The young lady has taken poison and is dead. I
have notified the coroner—'
“Pardon me," interposed the other with every


88
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
appearance of humility and respect, “ I have come
from the coroner. I am only a messenger and my
errand is to say that as he cannot come till morn-
ing it might relieve you to have me stop here and
see that there is no interference with the remains. It
is a common duty and it is not the first time I have
performed it."
"But it is nobody's duty to watch over this poor
girl's body but myself," broke in the landlady with
hearty indignation. “Do you forget that it is a
woman and a lady you are talking about, and do
you think I will stand by and see any man, much
less a stranger, take the place which only one of
her own sex should occupy? She is no relative of
regard for her memory I am sure; send that man
away; he has already been here too long."
And with a care that was almost motherly in its
tenderness, she drew the end of the cloak once
again over the poor dead face, dropping a tear as
she did so, which was not unseen by Mr. Gryce if it
was unappreciated by the stern and bitter-souled
physician.
“But, madam—" that stranger began.
“Stop!” cried Dr. Molesworth, “I will explain
to her.” And in a few words he told her how in
cases of violent death, it was thought advisable for
the coroner to see the victim as soon after decease
as possible, and when as in this case circumstances


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
89
demanded delay, no one, not even a mother could
rightfully interfere with whatever surveillance the
coroner thought it his duty to impose. So you
will let this man stay here, and I will stay too; for
it is as much my wish as yours that every respect
should be shown the one whom living I honored
sufficiently to wish to make my wife.”
The landlady shook her head with an aggressive
air but made no further protest. Dr. Molesworth
pointed to a chair and the representative of the
coroner sat down; then while the former glanced
at Mr. Gryce who had just caught his attention, a
slight noise was heard in the hall and a second
stranger entered
“What does this mean?" angrily cried the doctor.
“ Is it possible that the front door has been left
open ?"
And brusquely pushing by the new comer, he
shut the offending door and then coming back,
asked his business of the last arrival.
The fellow who was slimmer than the other and
much more dapper, pulled a small book and pencil
from his pocket. It was enough. Dr. Molesworth
recognized a reporter, and gave his irritation full
play.
“You are intruding," cried he. “This is a pri-
vate house and no one asked you to enter. As for
the calamity which has occurred, learn of it how and
where you will ; I shall tell you nothing."
But this young man was not one to be easily


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BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
daunted. “Do you wish me to make up an article
out of surmises? "he inquired. “A young girl of this
city has died in a carriage and the people have a
right to know how. Shall I say by use of the
knife or—".
“Scoundrel !" came from Dr. Molesworth's lips.
“You deserve chastising, but I shall simply see that
you do, what you have probably never done before,
tell the exact truth.” And turning to the detective
at his side, he exclaimed, ” Note what I tell the
fellow. If he alters a word or interposes one item
that is not borne out by what he observes and hears
here, I will see that he is discharged from his
place. I know what paper he is on and I know the
editor, and my threat is no idle one. Now let him
listen. This young lady, Mildred Farley by name,
was engaged to marry me to-night. Being an
orphan without friends-pardon me, Mrs. Olney, I
should have said relatives, perhaps—and not being
well, she thought a private marriage at a hotel would
be most suitable. I agreed with her and the
arrangements were all made for the ceremony. But
she was sicker than I supposed. The symptoms of
fever which I had perceived in her this afternoon in-
creased rapidly on my departure and when I re.
turned before the specified hour to marry her, I
found she had fled, leaving an incoherent note be-
hind which so alarmed me that I went out at once,
and jumping into my phaeton, drove up and down
the streets searching for her. I did not find her of


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
course ; and remembering an important prescription
I had promised to send a patient of mine, I de.
spatched my driver with it, and was taking my
phaeton home myself when I suddenly detected a
woman seated on one of the steps in Twenty.
second Street, whose appearance struck me as
familiar. Though no believer in miracles I ac-
cepted this one without scruple, and jumping from
my carriage, went up to her and soon saw that I
was right in supposing I had found Miss Farley. She
was very ill and did not know me. 'I am sleepy,'
she said, and dropped her head on my shoulder as
I lifted her up. At the same moment I heard the
sound of breaking glass as if a small phial had
slipped to the side-walk and been shivered, while a
pungent odor rose to my nostrils so suggestive of
the poison known as prussic-acid that I felt greatly
alarmed, and hastily carrying her to my phaeton, I
put her in and drove as fast as I could towards
home. But soon her increasing pallor and general
condition convincing me that death was near, I
stopped at the drug-store on the corner of Nine.
teenth Street, and leaving her in the phaeton, ran
in and asked one of the clerks to assist me in bring-
ing her into the store. He consented and we went
back to the phaeton but only to find that I was too
late. She had died in my absence."
“ Horrible!" burst from the landlady's lips, and
even the callous reporter looked shocked and a trifle
ashamed.


92
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Where she got the poison," continued the
doctor, "remains to be found out. Perhaps she
bought it after leaving the hotel, perhaps she had had
it with her there as a medicine. If so she may have
taken an overdose without being conscious of her
danger. I only know I was her physician, and had
never prescribed it to her, nor did I know she suf.
fered from any ailment that required such a tonic.'
“And is that all? Will you tell me nothing
more?"
“You have a very good article,” remarked the
doctor, dryly. “ Leave something for the future."
And the reporter had to be content and the detec-
tives too.
The reporter gone, Dr. Molesworth turned again
towards Mr. Gryce,
“And who are you?” he asked.
“I was going to say I didn't know," answered the
seemingly trembling old man. “I am in pain and
want to get home. Will one of you help me down
the steps ?"
“In pain !" repeated the doctor, who was not by
any means a hard-hearted man.
“Yes, rheumatism in the stomach, I think. I
came for some opium, but I won't wait any longer.
They will worry about me at home. Besides I
feel a bit better now."
His manner was so natural, his look so in accord-
ance with the character he had assumed, that Dr.
Molesworth suspected nothing and kindly held out


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
93
his arm. But he found the alleged detective had
forestalled him.
“Let me do this business," he entreated, with a
great show of good-nature and respect. “I have
nothing else to do and am used to old men." And
nodding graciously to his superior, he led him care-
fully out, whispering as soon as the lintel of the door
had hidden them from view. “What orders? Do
you smell anything wrong here?”.
“ Watch," was the quiet, but emphatic command.
“ Note everything, even to the lifting of an eyelid,
but say nothing and do not seem to watch."
Then as they reached the front door, “ Don't
be hurt if I send someone else here. They know
your character too well.” And with this the elder
man went out with a slow and hobbling step. The
pain and distress of that evening had not been
altogether assumed.


VII.
SOME POINTS.
MR. GRYCE had only a look to go upon, but it was
a look that spoke volumes. When a man shrinks
from the eye of a detective, he has something to
conceal, and when that something is connected with
the death of a young girl by poison, it behooves an
officer of the law to follow that man till he finds out
what that something is.
It was therefore with some interest that he
received in the early morning a summons from the
gentleman who held the office of coroner at this time,
to come down to his office and have a talk with him
concerning this case of Mildred Farley ; nor was it
long before he presented himself at the place
designated. He found the coroner alone and the
following conversation ensued.
“Well, Gryce," said the latter, “I have just
come from the house where you played the part
of a sick patient so successfully last night. May I
ask how you chanced to be so prompt on the
scene of action? Do you scent out mysterious
cases or had you any knowledge which led you to
that especial spot just at the moment when your
presence was possibly most required ?"
94


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
95
“Both,” was the good-natured reply. “Some.
thing which I called curiosity but which I am fain
now to consider instinct, made me an intruder in
Dr. Molesworth's home last night. But I had a bit
of knowledge to start with that roused this curiosity,
and it is of this I want to speak, if you think the
subject worthy of discussion or Dr. Molesworth any-
thing but what he seems, a good, honest and reli-
able man."
“I think,” returned the coroner, slowly, “any
subject of this kind worthy of discussion ; and as
for Dr. Molesworth he stands high but so do a great
many others whose testimony we are called upon
to question every day of our lives. You need not
stop on his account if you have seen or discovered
anything which contradicts his story."
“ What is his story?”.
“Did n't you hear it? I understood that he
told all he had to tell in your presence.”
“He told two stories.”
“How two ?"
“ One with his lips, another with his face ; that
is what makes me doubt him.”
“You do doubt him, then?”
Mr. Gryce tapped the table before him, with
an abstracted air, murmured some unintelligible
words and looked as if he thought he had replied.
“Come,” cried the other, “ your reasons? You
usually have good ones.”
“ Yes," assented Mr. Gryce, “ I usually have, but


96
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
in this case it would be hard for me to tell you just
what they are. I feel that there is something back
of this affair which we do not see, but I am not
ready as yet to go any further or even to express
any suspicions, say that I have any. The facts
which I have been able to glean in the short space
of time we have had, are meagre but interesting.
Perhaps you can add to them; if so, our conference
may lead to something. This is what I know.”
And he related first what Dr. Molesworth had to
say about the matter the evening before. When
he had finished, he asked, “Does this story agree
with what he told you this morning?”.
“ Exactly.”
“Very good. So much for so much. Now for
the side-lights. I saw the girl myself yesterday
afternoon."
"You?”
“Yes; I saw her but I did not speak to her nor
did I recognize her for the person she was. Indeed
I took her for another woman whom she greatly
resembled. It was at the C— Hotel.”
“Ah.”
“I need not enter into any further particulars
about this circumstance as it does not concern the
affair before us which stands quite apart by itself.
Enough that for reasons of my own I played the
spy on this young woman and saw her when she
thought herself alone, in the privacy of her own
apartment. This was some time after noon and


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
97
the great fact which I wish to bring before you is
this, that she was then to all appearance (and my
eye is accustomed to read countenances) perfectly
happy and had not in face or bearing the least
trace of sickness.
“ That is a point, certainly."
“ Note it, and then add to it this, that being still
under the error of which I have spoken, I went
back to the hotel some three or four hours later,
and wishing to confirm a former suspicion, sought
my vantage spot again, and in conjunction with
another witness whose testimony you will not need,
looked in upon this Miss Farley again, when I per-
ceived that a great change had passed over her.
But it was not that of sickness. From happiness
she had descended to misery, and in her pallor and
wild, unrestrained attitudes I could detect the ex-
pression of despair but none of bodily suffering or
mental disorder. Now what had occasioned this
change in her in a space of time so short ? I think
I can answer that it was an interview with Dr.
Molesworth. For according to his own story and
that of the hotel-clerk, he was with her for a half-
hour or so in the afternoon; and though upon going
out he told the hotel-clerk he was coming back in
the evening to marry her, something in his deter-
mination or in what had taken place at their inter-
view, had destroyed in her every vestige of hope
and happiness. For it was anything but an expec-
tant bride whom I saw after this visit, as it had


98
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
been anything but an anxious woman whom I had
seen before it."
“ So! so!”
“ Now when did she fly?” the detective pursued.
“Shortly after I saw her last. And how? On foot
and quietly. The hall-boy saw her go out, and he
says she had her little bag on her arm and looked
decent and composed ; not like a woman in a delir-
ium, nor even like one who meditates any dreadful
crime. But then a boy's observation does not go
for much, and we will let it pass. What we will re-
member though is this, that she had a veil on which
covered her face, and that this veil was brown, or at
least of a very dark color. Two persons have told
me so; the boy whose word, as I say goes for little,
and the chamber-maid, who though she did not see
her go out, had had ample opportunity for observing
her veil earlier in the afternoon, and whose word
on such a subject does go for something. But, and
mark the fact well, for it seems to me important,
the veil that was clinging to her dress when she
was brought into Mrs. Olney's parlor was gray and
decidedly light; not the same one at all, according
to description, which she wore when she went out
of the hotel. What is the conclusion? That she
stopped somewhere. Where? Another thing to
find out. And now about the poison. I went
through Twenty-second Street very soon after leave
ing Mrs. Olney's last night, and in front of one of
the houses between Fifth and Sixth avenues, I


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
99
found a broken phial reeking with the smell of bit-
ter almonds. So that part of his story is true. I
have brought the bits of broken glass; here they
are."
The coroner looked at them curiously, smelled
them and glanced up at Mr. Gryce.
“Well!” he suggested, in an inquiring tone ; he
felt that the detective's silence meant something.
“Don't you notice anything peculiar about these
pieces?"
“No, to be frank, I don't.”
“ Poison that is bought at a drug-store usually has
a label on the bottle.”
" True."
“And this phial once had a label on it.”
“I see."
“But it has been washed off, or rather rubbed off
by a moistened hand. There are bits of it still re.
maining."
“I perceive them."
“What inference can we draw? That caution
has been used. Now caution is not an attribute of
the suicide, whether that suicide was an intentional
one or the result of a mistake.”
“Humph!"
“And then there is another thing that puzzles me.
Dr. Molesworth declares he found her sitting on
the steps. I looked at those steps ; there was a
light snow lying on them and this snow lay white
and undisturbed as it would not have done if a


100
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
woman had been sitting there. But then some
little time had elapsed since he removed her from
the spot and enough fresh snow may have falien to
cover up the traces which her skirts must have left
behind her.”
“ Very possible."
“Only those skirts were not damp about the
edges as they must have been if she had been sitting
on a stoop under these circumstances. And this to
my mind is good evidence that she did not sit there.
I would sooner believe she had been carried down
the stoop and placed in the phaeton without putting
her foot to ground; only it happens to be General
- 's house and the thing is impossible.”
“But how could you know about her skirts, you
did not go near her ?”
“But Harrison did, the man you yourself sent
there to investigate."
“ And you have seen him since ?"
“Five minutes after you did, sir."
The coroner laughed, he did not understand such
zeal.
"I knew you would send for me," resumed Mr.
Gryce, “and I wanted to have something to talk
about."
“I see," said the coroner, “well, go on." .
“I am almost at the end of my rope, only-did
you wonder what had become of Miss Farley's
bag ?”
"I did not know she had any."


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
101
“ The people at the hotel say she had, and here is
the ocular proof of it." And Mr. Gryce produced
from under his coat a small but neat hand-bag of
black leather, having on one side two ornamental
steel letters, one of which was M. and the other F.
“The initials of her name, you perceive."
The coroner nodded.
“You wonder where I got this bag. Why, in the
most natural place in the world ; it was in the
phaeton.”
“ Ah, the phaeton.”
“When I went out of the house last night I found
that vehicle standing where it had been left, in
front of the steps; and as according to the doctor's
story it had been the real scene of death, I naturally
thought you would wish to have a look at it. I
accordingly took possession of it and not seeing
what else I could do with it at that time of night,
drove it into a stable near by. I expected every
moment to be stopped by somebody and so forced
to reveal my true character; but circumstances
favored me and I got off with my prize unmolested.
You will find it in charge of an officer at 66 West
- Street."
“That is all right; but what about the look
you took? You never left that phaeton for me to
examine first."
Mr. Gryce smiled grimly at the plain gold stud
he wore as a cuff button. “I see you understand
me.” He then admitted apologetically, “ 'Twas


102
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
dark and I did not find much. Still I found some-
thing; the bag for instance.”
The coroner looked at him with a doubtful air.
Did he suspect for the first time that the detective
was concealing something from him ? If so, he
said nothing and Mr. Gryce went on blandly.
“ This bag may have stories to tell. Suppose
you open it, sir.”
The coroner nodded and did so. A number of
toilet articles came to light and some linen. All
was fresh and neat.
“Nothing that is likely to help us," asserted the
coroner. “No vestiges of poison, no letters, not
even a scrap of writing of any kind.”
Mr. Gryce did not commit himself.
“ I would like to take an inventory of the articles,"
said he.
The coroner allowed him to do so and then in-
quired,
“What about witnesses? Have you seen the
clerks at the drug-store ?"
“Yes, they have nothing to add to his story.
He stopped there, came in as he said, told his
fears and asked for assistance. One of them,
Herbert Black by name, at once responded; but be-
fore he could reach the door, the doctor came rush-.
ing back, and crying out, “ It is too late, she is
dead,” led the way to the phaeton, where they saw
the poor girl tumbled in a heap, white and lifeless.
They were young men and did not know enough to


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
103
take her by the hand and see if she were yet cold.
They took the doctor's words for granted, knowing
him so well, and feeling a natural indisposition to
interfere in a matter at once so horrible and so
delicate, only asked what they should do to help
him. 'I am going to take her straight home,' he
told them, and requested one of them to telephone
to you and the other to run along at his side as far
as the house. This latter duty fell to Mr. Black,
and it was he who helped the doctor carry the poor
girl in. That is all. I worked a half hour but
could get no more out of him.”
“ And the clergyman?"
“Has nothing to impart."
“And the driver? You surely have seen the
driver, he whom he sent out of the way with a pre-
scription to some patient or other?”
Mr. Gryce's brows knit.
“I have had but nine hours to work in," said he,
“ and one of them was thrown away on that boy.
I set a watch for him in three places and succeeded
in getting the first word with him. But he had
only one story to tell and he told it doggedly. It
was in strict accordance with that of Dr. Moles-
worth. He had been ordered to come to the C-
Hotel at a quarter past eight to take Mr. Pease
home after the expected ceremony. He had gone
there on foot, Dr. Molesworth himself having
driven Mr. Pease to the hotel, and finding the
phaeton at the door, had waited beside it for the


104
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clergyman to come out. But before this could
happen the doctor reappeared, and declaring that
matters had not gone as he wished, took his place in
the phaeton and beckoned him in beside him ; after
which they rode about the streets till the doctor
suddenly stopped the horse somewhere near Union
Square, and commanding him to get out gave him
a bit of paper which he told him to take as quick
as he could to Mr. Monroe in Seventy-third Street.
He obeyed him and had only just come back.
This is what the boy said and all he would say ;
but I know as well as I know anything that he did
not tell me the truth; for when I asked him what
cars he took, he stared at me for a moment help-
lessly, then said, 'The Madison Avenue cars,' which
story he stuck to, but as one who is very much
frightened sticks to a statement he knows is false
but dares not abandon."
“I will make him tell the truth,” asserted the
coroner.
“It is to be hoped so. He is not dull but he is
mighty obstinate and is to all appearance very much
afraid of his master."
“I know the species ; I can manage him.”
Mr. Gryce looked doubtful, but did not pur-
sue the subject. On the contrary he remarked :
“I forgot to give you another point I have made.
Molesworth says that after leaving the hotel he rode
through the streets searching for his missing bride.
Now, a person who searches, goes slowly, and when


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
105
he finds what he seeks in the condition in which
Miss Farley was found, he still goes slowly. But
Dr. Molesworth's horse had been driven far and fast
as the state he was in when I drove him into the
stable, amply showed.”
“ A point? I should think so!"
“And that is not all. Seeing that the horse went
a trifle lame, I examined his feet, and there, wedged
between the hoof and the shoe of his right fore-foot
I found a bit of gravel which I dare wager never
came from the streets about Madison Square. As
the horse was not lame enough for it to have been
there long, I drew the inference that Miss Farley
was searched for in other regions than those his story
would lead you to surmise."
" Very likely."
“ Dr. B- ," Mr. Gryce now remarked, " I want
time.”
“Good !” was the reply, and how much?”
“Well, that I cannot tell. Maybe hours will
answer and maybe I shall want days. There is all
her past history to learn, and where she was on that
short vacation to which the landlady alludes. If
you want to get at the truth, postpone your inquest
a little. I won't let the matter drag.”
"I see; Gryce is awake, and all because of a
look.”
“Less things than that have sent a man to the
gallows before now. Intricate locks have smali
keys."


106
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
And you hope to open this one ?"
Mr. Gryce's cuff-button flashed. It had received
a glance which recalled the days when Mr. Gryce's
glance meant something.


VIII.
FACTS AND SURMISES.
MRS. OLNEY's indignation against the detective
Harrison did not last long. Once relieved from
the constraint of his superior's presence, he showed
himself so respectful and considerate that her
prejudices were soon vanquished and he had more
than one opportunity to approach that quarter of
the room over which she had promised to hold such
a jealous watch.
It was at one of these times,—while he was wait-
ing for Mrs. Olney to drink the glass of water he
had brought her, I believe, that he discovered the
fact in regard to Miss Farley's garments of which
Mr. Gryce made mention in his interview with the
coroner; and had it not been for Dr. Molesworth's
watchful eye and open ear he might have gleaned
other information still more useful; for Mrs. Olney
had nothing to conceal and much to impart, and
Mrs. Olney dearly liked an appreciative listener.
But as it was, he had no sooner beguiled her into
conversation, than some movement of the doctor
attracted the good woman's attention, and stopped
the flow of speech into which she had been betrayed.
107


108
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
And once when he thought he was really on the
point of learning some important fact, that same
grave and determined individual boldly inter-
fered with the remark that Mrs. Olney had better
not tire herself as she would need all her strength
to answer the coroner's questions on the morrow.
It was therefore with something like relief that
in the early morning he heard the bell ring and saw
the coroner enter followed by a woman, whose kind,
motherly face did not deceive him as to the part
she was to play in this drama. The long struggle
with the severe, gloomy-browed doctor, who had the
faculty of making his presence felt in a heavy,
oppressive kind of way even when he did not speak
or appear to hear, was over at last, and he would
now have the opportunity to gather such fragments
of information as he knew would be acceptable
to Mr. Gryce.
But for some reason or other it was destined that
he should not shine in this affair. Though he had
a merry time down-stairs and went in his search for
knowledge as high as the room in which the unhappy
girl had lodged, he gleaned but little of interest ; so
that when Mr. Gryce came, he had really nothing
to report beyond the slight fact of which I have al.
ready made mention.
When therefore the elder detective announced to
the coroner that he had all the girl's past history
to learn, he was stating nothing but the simple fact,
and it was to this task he addressed himself as soon


THE GRETOREX WEDDING. 109
after leaving that official as circumstances would
permit.
His first attempt succeeded as well as could be
expected, Mrs. Olney receiving him in his real
character with as good a grace, and telling him all
she knew in as candid a spirit as if he had not so
basely played upon her credulity the evening before.
Her story as volunteered to him and doubtless to
the coroner before him, was as follows:
Mildred Farley was an orphan, her widowed mo-
ther having died about a month before in the very
house and in the very room which she herself was
occupying at the time of her own untimely end.
This mother was a very attractive woman of the
gentle, retiring type, whose melancholy eyes told
of a life of mingled love and sorrow. Her daugh-
ter who had appeared to idolize her, sacrificed every-
thing to her comfort, and it was mainly on account
of this mother's ill health that Mildred worked so
hard at a trade manifestly beneath her capacity and
breeding. For Mrs. Farley had been brought up
in luxury and had many wants which could only be
satisfied by means greater than those usually ac-
quired by a young girl in Mildred's position. But
work and self-denial will do much, and Mrs. Farley
never had any reason to complain. Nor with her
death had Mildred's exertions ceased. Though the
necessity for such severe labor seemed to be past,
she had shown no disposition to indulge herself.
From early morning till late at night she had sat at


110
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
her work, finishing one beautiful dress after another
till Mrs. Olney was fain to believe that she had
some new object in view and would ere long unite
her fortunes with those of her fellow-boarder, the
doctor.
But though the young people were to all appear.
ance very good friends, meeting constantly at table
and frequently in the parlors as well, the anxious
landlady was soon assured by the physician's ab-
stracted and reticent air and as she thought by
Mildred's uniform look of indifference, that her
fond desire was not to be realized. When, there-
fore, Mildred informed her one morning that she
was going away for a little visit, the good woman
never thought of the doctor in connection with her
departure, nor did she then or afterward harbor any
suspicion that her bright young boarder was con-
templating marriage with any one, least of all with
him. For if this busy girl had broken in upon her
usual habits, he had not, nor was there anything in
his bearing or conversation to lead her to suppose
that he meditated any change in his mode of life.
The news of their proposed marriage with all the
tragic developments which had immediately en-
sued, had therefore awakened in the whole house-
hold the greatest feeling of surprise ; nor could
Mrs. Olney for one, realize that the young and
blooming girl upon whom the labor and sorrows of
the last few months had left scarcely a trace, had
succumbed in a moment to the temptation of sui-


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
UI
cide, no matter by what sickness she had been
seized.
"I know that folks are taken dreadful sudden
sometimes," the old lady remarked at this juncture.
“But I cannot reconcile such an end with what I
knew of Mildred. It isn't in keeping with her char.
acter. If she had loved the doctor more or hated
him more I could perhaps have understood it.
But she was healthy in body and soul, a frank,
young, hopeful girl, and I don't see—” She said
no more but her lips took a grim line and Mr. Gryce
perceived that his suspicions, vague as they were,
were not altogether unshared by this warm hearted
woman and true friend of Mildred Farley.
He therefore started with good hope upon a line
of questions by which he expected to reach some
clew that would help him to the end he felt rather
than saw before him. But though his skill was
great the result was meagre, and after a lengthened
conversation the only facts he thought worth re-
cording in his mind were these.
That there had certainly been something peculiar
in the young girl's actions of late ; a certain reti-
cence about her work for instance, such as she had
never before displayed. Though she had made
several handsome dresses during the last month (as
the scraps lying about her room sufficiently testi-
fied), she had never shown them to her landlady as
she had previously been accustomed to do, but


112
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
kept herself and them locked up in her room till the
time came for taking them home. And yet these
dresses were certainly for other people and not for
herself, she having been seen carrying them out in
a great box many times during the four weeks she
had kept herself such a prisoner.
That the person for whom they were destined
was rich, for she came several times to be fitted,
and always in a carriage.
That the place to which Mildred had gone on a
visit was not known to her landlady, nor as far as
could be learned, to any one else in the house.
That Mildred was invariably well and had never
to all appearance stood in need of a doctor's pre-
scription.
That Dr. Molesworth had been Mrs. Farley's
physician and in this way seen much of the
daughter. But that he had never appeared to take
advantage of this fact, nor could Mrs. Olney recall
the least token of an existing affection between
them. If lovers, they had been very circumspect,
too circumspect as it now appeared ; such seeming
indifference could cover nothing good.
That contrary to their usual open relations they
had been seen just once whispering together on the
stairs. But even then it was not as lovers whisper,
rather like persons who have some business to
settle.
That no one in the house ever linked their names


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
113
together in speaking of them ; nor were they ever
the subject of jokes among the boarders.
A poor array of seemingly unproductive facts, it
is true; but Mr. Gryce was not discouraged. It
was from some chance word or petty revelation he
expected his clew, not from the open details which
every one knew.
His next interview was with the woman who had
come with the coroner and whom he as well as
Harrison, recognized for an expert female detec-
tive. She had taken Mrs. Olney's place beside the
dead girl and from her he hoped to gather a fact
about which he was very anxious.
“Well, Mrs. Roberts," he exclaimed, upon seeing
her,“ did you get the line I sent you ?"
“I did, sir.”
“And what have you to say?".
“ That you are all right. There is a mark of
fresh paint on the back of her gown between the
shoulder blades."
Mr. Gryce drew a deep breath expressive of great
satisfaction. “I thought so,” he cried. “And what
was its color, Mrs. Roberts; to a shade, mind ? "
“As near as I could judge in the light I had, it
was brown but of a very bright and peculiar tint."
“Right again. I am much obliged to you, very
much obliged to you. Does any one else know
about this spot !”
“Not to my knowledge.”


114
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ Very good ; it is immaterial. 'Twill take more
than one of us to discover where that paint came
from, I imagine.”
“ Any more questions, sir ? "
“ One. What do you think of Dr. Molesworth ? "
“A brooding, dark-browed man with something
on his mind beside grief. I cannot make him out,
but this much is certain ; you won't get anything
out of him till the law makes him speak. He is
never off his guard and will neither make a slip nor
forget his dignity. Indeed, I have begun to admire
him in the short space of time we have been in the
same room."
“Humph! and do you think other women likely
to share that sentiment ?”
“Yes, sir ; I understand what you mean and I
say unequivocally, yes. He is a man without one
handsome feature ; he is also a man without much
softness of soul or appreciation of woman, but he
has a dangerous eye, and you will find if you search
his history close enough, that more than one
woman has been broken against his hard nature.
I know the sex and I know the men dangerous to it
and he is not one of the least.”
Mr. Gryce was astonished. Dr. Molesworth was
the last man he would have thought likely to be
agreeable to women; a conclusion which shows, as
he afterwards said to himself, how wise it is now
and then to take a woman into one's confidence.
“You probably think, then," he remarked, “that


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
115
it was love which drove Mildred Farley to her
death? But Dr. Molesworth expressly said in my
presence, she had chosen death in preference to
marriage."
“He did ? Well, Dr. Molesworth should know.
I would trust his judgment in such matters im-
plicitly."
“Would you trust your life with him if he were
ingry?”
“O, now you want to make use of my woman's
intuition. I cannot allow you to, sir, the matter is
too serious. Stick to facts, Mr. Gryce, no man can
handle them better."
He smiled as he turned away.
“And is not woman's intuition a fact ?” he asked.
“I have usually found it so."
From Mrs. Roberts he passed to the servants and
from them to Mildred's room. All these investi-
gations had been made by Harrison, but in a
mysterious matter like this, Mr. Gryce trusted no
one's inspection but his own. As a result, he added
the following paragraph to his list of facts.
That this young dressmaker's time was not en-
tirely devoted to sewing. On her table were vari-
ous books of study, all bearing the marks of use,
and in the desk which contained nothing else of
interest, was a copy-book full of French phrases,
evidently written by her hand,


116
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
He confiscated a leaf of this book.
On his way down stairs he heard loud talking; it
came from one of the rooms on the third floor and
was carried on by two female voices. He quietly
stopped a moment to listen. One woman was
saying:
“Too bad, too bad; but I always said no good
would come to that girl, after I met her on the stairs
so late one night. She was out again and again. I
used to listen-just out of good-will towards her
you know, just out of good-will-and it was twelve
o'clock more than once, twelve o'clock! And this
was when her mother was so sick, and since too."
“But her work? She had to take that home, you
know."
“ Her work! It was only a blind. She used to
carry that great box empty, I am sure of it, for she
set it down once in the hall to tie on her veil more
securely, and I was there and laughingly lifted it
up. It was very light, Harriet ; very light.”
“ But—"
“Don't talk to me; don't talk to me. There
was a secret in that girl's life and her violent death
will prove it. She may have been engaged to the
doctor, she may have been going to marry him,
but if any one should ask me my opinion I should
say that that good man found her out at last and
the shame of it unsettled Miss Mildred, and—”.
“But the doctor declares he went to the hotel to
marry her. He even took Mr. Pease with him,


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
117
.
which he surely would not have done if he had not
expected to need his services.”
"But Dr. Molesworth is a man in a thousand.
He is capable of doing any generous thing. If you
had appreciated him as you ought-"
“Mamma, have I ever said I did not appreciate
him ? "
“Two more fools," was Mr. Gryce's inward com-
ment; but he had gleaned still another paragraph
to add to his list :
Mildred Farley had some interest which kept her
out late nights. It was not altogether connected
with business, as she sometimes resorted to subter-
fuge to account for her absences.
And connected with this came the mental inter-
rogation,
"Could Dr. Molesworth, convinced of her ill faith,
have placed before her the two alternatives of death
or the public exposure of her fault? Or, darkest
surmise of all, could he have taken the matter in
his own hands and robbed her of life rather than
fulfil his promise of marrying her ?”.


IX.
LATE EVIDENCE.
A WEEK had passed and Mr. Gryce is again
closeted with the coroner. From his appearance he
had not met with the success which he had antici-
pated in this matter; but then who could tell any.
thing from Gryce's appearance !
“You have finished your inquiries," observed the
coroner. “Well, who are your witnesses ?”
“ Rather, who are yours? I have done nothing."
“Nothing?"
“Nothing that will be of any assistance to you.
Either I am getting old or this is a particularly un-
productive affair. I can make nothing out of it."
The coroner looked disappointed. “What, with
all those points you suggested?”
“What were they? There was a veil found cling-
ing to her garments, which was a different one from
that she wore out. But what is a veil? a piece of
gauze cut from a length of similar material. Noth-
ing traceable there. All I could do was to make
certain that she did not buy it during that evening
at any of the stores. Where she did get it I cannot
say. It was impossible to find out."
118


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
119
“ Well, well?"
“The refuge which she sought after leaving the
hotel is a mystery ; consequently the place of poi-
soning, and the circumstances under which the
poison was taken or administered. The most care-
ful investigations have been made. Every spot
known to the police, where a girl in her condition of
snind might seek to hide herself, has been examined,
but to no effect. The house, if house she entered,
was a private one, and being such, we can only lo.
cate it by open measures. The inquest will have to
take place.”
“I see; I see ; and you have failed also to fol-
low the trail of the doctor's wanderings?”
“He left none; the only inan who can tell us
anything about his movements at that time, per-
sists in denying all knowledge of them.”
“Is there a Mr. Monroe of Seventy-second
Street?"
“Yes; and he did receive a prescription that
night by the hand of Dr. Molesworth's colored
driver. But it was not as important a one as the
doctor would make out. He would not have suf-
fered if he had not received it till the next day.”
“ Still the boy carried it.”
“Yes, and I never doubted that he did, only I
don't believe he went by the Madison Avenue cars
and I doubt very much if he went from any corner
near Union Square.”
“ But you cannot prove it."


120
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ Not by any means now at my command."
“The doctor, then, seems to have the best of it.”
“Decidedly; and that is a hard word for Eben-
ezar Gryce to say. I cannot even make sure of such
simple matters as the place in which the girl spent
the two or three days previous to her death ; nor
for whom she made the dresses she was at work up-
on during the last few weeks of her life. All is
dark, and every trail is blind. Publicity is all that
will help us. I have tried secret workings long
enough.”
“Then you wish the inquest to be held immedi-
ately."
“ As soon as your convenience will permit.”
“And your hope is—"
“My determination is to have the proceedings
published as widely in the papers as possible, and my
hope is that it will cause witnesses to spring up who
can help us out of our little difficulty. Some one
in this great city or its vicinity must know where
she spent the hours before taking that fatal dose ;
and that some one may speak. I suppose there is
no doubt that the dose taken was large enough to
cause speedy death ?”.
“No; the autopsy settled that.”
“But not large enough to cause an immediate
one."
“Upon that the doctors disagree.”
“ It is a pity ; else we would have Molesworth
on his own story."


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
121
“ He probably knew that. Molesworth under-
tands poisons; he has made them a study."
“And I have made him a study ; but he is im.
penetrable. It is not of many men I can say that."
“ Well, well, we will have the inquest.” Then as
Mr. Gryce rose to go, “How about that spot of
paint, Gryce ? No clew in that either?”
Mr. Gryce sat down again. “There ought to
be," he acknowleged." There is a mark on the
lining of the phaeton, but it is very slight, while
that on her dress is very distinct, showing that the
paint came off from her dress upon the phaeton.
She had consequently been leaning against a freshly
painted surface somewhere, and as the paint was of
a peculiar shade, I thought I should be able to
trace it. But," he shook his head—“ like all the
rest it proved a blind trail.”
He was going for the second time when the coro-
ner stopped him.
“ Have you thought that if Dr. Molesworth's
story is true and he lifted the dying girl from the
stoop into his phaeton he would naturally have a
smudge of that paint on his sleeve ?"
“ Don't humiliate me; it is there."
“Well, well,” remarked the coroner as he bowed
the detective out, “I see but one conclusion to the
matter. We shall have to believe the doctor's
story."
“You did not see the look on his face which I
did," returned Mr. Gryce.


122
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
The next day the inquest was held and the pro.
ceedings voluminously published. Witnesses from
all quarters were examined and the matter relent.
lessly sifted. But no more was elicited from the
various parties on oath than they had been willing
to volunteer at the solicitations of the detective :
nor though the utmost discretion was displayed in
the examination of the doctor could his testimony
be shaken or his assertions disproved.
Some of his answers merit recording. To the
question as to when and where he became engaged
to Miss Farley, he replied with great dignity but
with no apparent reserve:
“Miss Farley never said she would marry me till
the morning of the day she died. Then I received
a letter from her saying that she would marry me
that day at the C- Hotel. I had received man.
ifestations of affection from her before but never
any promise.”
“You had professed attachment for her, then,
some time previous to this event ?"
"I first offered myself to her beside her mother's
death-bed.”
There was feeling in his voice and there was re-
serve, and the result upon the minds of those pres-
ent was something like awe. No one blamed the
coroner for the respect with which he next inquired
whether the letter received from Miss Farley was
still in Dr. Molesworth's possession.
“ It is not," was the reply. “I invariably de.


THE GRÉTÓREX WEDDING.
1 2 3
stroyed every line I received from her. It is a
custom of mine to preserve no letters.”
This struck the mass unfavorably. It seemed both
unnatural and uncalled-for. But he was in no wise
affected by the changed looks about him. There
were enough old and discreet wise-acres present to
nod approval to a caution they perhaps wished they
had themselves maintained during their long'
lives.
" Then you were but following out your usual
habit when you burned the note which Miss Farley
left behind her at the hotel ?”
“If I may say so, yes.”
“You have then no objection to telling us what
the note contained.”
“None whatever if I could. But it was a string
of unmeaning phrases of which only one sentence
was clear.”
“ And that was ?"
“• I want my friends about me; it isn't respecta-
ble. Yet she was the one who proposed the mar-
riage,” volunteered the doctor, “and at the interview
we held in the afternoon, no demur was made by
her, either as regarded the wedding itself or the
manner in which I proposed to have it conducted."
“ Will you give us the details of that inter-
view?”
“As nearly as I can, sir. It was such a one as
you would expect from a delicate-minded woman
who had taken a very important step and was not


124
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
quite sure how it would be received by her lover.
At first she seemed only anxious to learn how I felt
about the matter, and when I could not truthfully
say she had chosen a very auspicious time for our
nuptials, she burst into tears and then became so
feverish and incoherent I saw she was not well, and
at once began to comfort her. She thereupon grew
calmer and listened with attention while I told her
of the arrangements which had suggested them-
selves to me, not making as I have said, any objec.
tion to them either then or at any time before I
left.”
“And what was the manner of your parting?"
“It was affectionate on my part, but I am free to
say there was some constraint on hers. With all
my efforts to the contrary I had wounded her sus-
ceptibilities, sharpened as they were by incipient
illness, and she was too much of a woman not to
show it. But I never expected more than a little
unpleasantness and was as much shocked as any.
body when I returned and found her gone."
“One more question in this connection, Dr.
Molesworth. The clerk testifies that the hour you
set for your wedding was nine, yet you came back
with the clergyman as early as a quarter after eight.
How was that?"
“I was anxious, sir. The more I thought of it
the more I was convinced that Miss Farley was on
the point of a serious illness. I went early on her
account.”


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
125
This was all very satisfactory, too satisfactory for
Mr. Gryce. Telegraphing by a gesture to the cor-
oner that he had a suggestion to make, he sent him
a line or two written on the back of one of the re-
porters' note-book, which upon reading, the coroner
remarked to the witness :
“You were alone with Miss Farley in room 153
of the C- Hotel when this interview occurred of
which you speak.”
“ Most certainly, sir.".
“A room containing an alcove shut off by cur-
tains ?"
“I believe there were curtains there but I did not
look to see what they shut off.”
“ How then do you know that you two were
alone?"
It was but a lightning's flash, that look of irre-
pressible shock and dismay which crossed Dr.
Molesworth's face at this intimation. But the cor-
oner saw it as Mr. Gryce had seen it on a former
important occasion, and he felt as the detective had
felt then, that it outweighed all the witness' words
and his most plausible explanations.
“I took it for granted we were," he was saying
the next moment in his most even tones. “If you
have a witness to the contrary, let her be produced,
she may assist me in remembering just what did
pass between Miss Farley and myself.”
It was a bold stroke and it succeeded. They had
no witness and he soon saw it, and the color which


126
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
had slightly left his lips came back and his bearing
became almost disdainful.
The coroner who was still following Mr. Gryce's
suggestions, regarded him with unabated respect.
“You say her," he smiled. “Why not him?"
“ Because no man would stoop to listen."
The women in the crowd, and there were many,
burst forth at this into anything but an inaudible
murmur. But the coroner, with a smile and sally,
averted the rising storm, and the examination con-
tinued. But not in the same line, for the coroner
who was now not only convinced that he had a man
of doubtful trustworthiness before him, but also of
no common intelligence and skill, foresaw that the
interests of justice would be better advanced by a
seeming acceptance of the witness' explanations
and a consequent lulling of any fears he might en-
tertain. He therefore, while pursuing his inquiries
closely and to the point, took care to do so in a way
that left the doctor all his self-respect; a course
which evidently met with Mr. Gryce's approval, for
he introduced no more suggestions, but confined him-
self entirely to giving confidences to and receiving
them from the spectacle-case he held tightly clenched
in his hand.
It is therefore to be supposed he saw nothing
worthy his attention in the doctor's answers in re-
gard to his pursuit of the flying bride; nor could
there have been any new fact elicited in regard to
his final discovery of the same. Therefore as Mr.


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
127
Gryce was a man upon whose judgment in such
matters we can rely, we will pass over this portion
of the examination and come at once to the ques-
tions with which it closed. They were delicate in
their nature and were put with as much considera.
tion as possible.
“Dr. Molesworth, during your acquaintance with
Miss Farley, have you ever had reason to suppose
she was receiving addresses from any other gentle.
man than yourself?”
It was an unexpected attack and the doctor
paused a moment before replying. Then he an.
swered distinctly :
“ No."
“Excuse my persistency, but the mystery of Miss
Farley's action in this whole matter has not been
made clear even with the explanations you have
given us. I must therefore ask if you know of any
other man in whom Miss Farley might have been
interested ?"
There was no hesitation this time.
“Miss Farley had given her heart to me. I never
had reason to doubt it or her up to the moment I
found she had fled from me.”
“Were you in the habit of meeting her out of the
house where you both lived ?".
“No, sir. The one interview we had at the hotel
is the only one which ever took place between us
outside of Mrs. Olney's house.”
“Yet your meetings there were infrequent and
1 to douhe given hells time.


128
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
according to all accounts in the presence of other
persons.”
“ Miss Farley was a pure and unprotected girl,
sir. She knew my sentiments and I waited for her
response in perfect confidence. I should have
blamed myself if I had attracted notice to our posi-
tion by any undue display of my regard.”
“Then you cannot tell us what kept Miss Farley
out oftentimes till twelve o'clock at night?"
“No; but I can suggest that it was her busi-
ness of dressmaking. She had more than one
patron living far up town.”
“Do you know the names of her patrons ? "
“I do not.”
“None of them ? "
The doctor's brows came together.
“None," he repeated.
“One question more. Can you tell us where
Miss Farley spent the last few days of her life ? "
“I cannot; she did not tell me."
“Did you know she was going away on a visit ?”
“Yes, but I knew no more. I did not ask her
any particulars about the matter, and she volun.
teered none."
“You can at least tell us from what place the
letter was post-marked which you received the
morning of her death.”
“It was not post-marked at all. It came by the
hands of a District-messenger."
“ Can you give us the number of the boy?"


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
129
“I cannot; but he came from the C— Hotel;
the lady was already there when she wrote it."
This closed the proceedings of the day and Dr.
Molesworth's testimony. Clear, precise, and plau-
sible had been all his replies, and had it not been for
a nameless something, hard to describe, he would
have gained credit from the officers who conducted
his examination, as well as from the public who
listened to it. As it was, Mr. Gryce was not in the
least shaken in his suspicions, and he waited with
considerable confidence for the developments which
a publication of the young physician's testimony
would bring. But days passed, the inquest came to
an end and no new witness appeared. The verdict
was even rendered, and the affair dropped from the
newspapers where it had been kept as long as pos-
sible, and still no new light came to reward the
patience of the watchful detective. This was owing
in part to the fact that he had not allowed Mildred's
picture to be reproduced in the gazettes. With the
exception of a sketch taken of her as she lay in Mrs.
Olney's parlor, and which bore the same resemblance
to her that it did to many another woman of fine
proportions and regular features, he had resisted
any attempt at presenting her lineaments to the
public. His reasons for this were wholly disinter-
ested. Bearing as she did, so close a likeness to
Miss Gretorex, now Mrs. Cameron, that the differ-
ence between them could only be detected by the
most careful eye, he hesitated out of pure consider-


130
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
ation for her and the man whom he had once be-
fore made the victim of unnecessary suffering.
Besides, no good photograph of Mildred could be
found, and Mr. Gryce was by far too honest a man
to lend for any such use the portrait of Miss
Gretorex, however satisfactory it might have been
to those who would have been glad of a copy of
Mildred's features on any terms.
And so another week went by.
But the next was not destined to pass without an
event. As Mr. Gryce was deliberating at his own
house one morning, a stranger entered, in whose
important air and courteous but mysterious manner
he read news.
" Are you the detective, Gryce ?" this person
asked.
“That is my name and calling," was the ready
answer.
“ I have a line or two here which I will trouble
you to read," said the gentleman, handing him a
note.
It was from the superintendent of police, and ran
thus :
“ Listen to what the bearer of this has to say. He
will undoubtedly interest you."
“ May I inquire your namer" inquired Mr. Gryce.
The stranger nodded and gave it. It was one
well known in the Union League, and Mr. Gryce


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
131
upon hearing it, looked with renewed interest at
its owner whose face and form were of a marked
elegance almost approaching to dandyism.
“ Your business ? ” the detective now asked,
laconically but not ungraciously. This young scion
of one of New York's oldest families had never for-
feited the respect of any one. Indeed he was very
favorably known as a young man of great good
nature and unquestioned honor.
The young gentleman posed himself-he was
not above producing small effects—and then quietly
remarked :
“There was an inquest held not long ago over the
remains of a young girl who died from poison.
Mildred Farley was her name."
Mr. Gryce nodded. He had no difficulty in hid.
ing his intense and sudden interest, for his con-
fidant at this juncture was the elegant seal which
hung from the watch chain of his visitor, and that
seal was a sphinx.
"I read the account of that inquest," continued
the young man; “and one statement made by the
gentleman who professed to know the most about
the matter, was false."
“Ah! let us hear," returned Mr. Gryce.
“He said, if you remember, that he found the
young woman on a stoop in Twenty-second Street,
and that he lifted her up to carry her to his phaeton,
when a bottle fell from her hand to the side-walk
and broke."


132
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS,
“I remember.”
“As that bottle had held poison and just the
poison from which the young girl is known to have
died, it is a matter of some importance I presume
to know the exact truth about it.”
“It certainly is, Mr. K- "
The young gentleman took another attitude, less
graceful but more impressive than the first.
“I can tell you something about it,” he affirmed;
“I was there."
“There ? "
“I had been_Well, it does not matter where,
but in a place where I do not smoke and where I
should consider it the height of ill manners to light
a cigar till I had shut the street door behind me.
I therefore prepared to do this in the vestibule, and
it being rather a windy night, I had withdrawn into
a corner behind the partly closed door when I heard
the sound of wheels, and next moment the slight
but unmistakable noise of a small bottle shivering
to pieces on the pavement before me. Not under
standing the matter, I felt curious, and looking
out, beheld a doctor's phaeton just beyond the
house going in the direction of Broadway. It had
not stopped in passing and no young woman had
been lifted from the steps. For I had glanced
down them the moment before and they were
entirely unoccupied. I stepped on some of the
pieces of that broken phial as I went on my way,


THE GRETOREX WEDDING.
133
and I remember the smell that rose from them dis-
tinctly. It was that of bitter almonds.”
"I am sure I am very much obliged to you,” re-
joined Mr. Gryce. “It is certainly an important
piece of evidence. I will not ask why it was not
given to us before.”
“But I will tell you,” responded the other
frankly. “I am not much in the habit of mixing in
police matters and I had a natural disinclination to
put myself forward. So I let the affair go by. But
conscience was too much for me at last. I took
my information to the superintendent of police,
and he sent me here. That is the history of the
matter."
“I accept it," was Mr. Gryce's response, “and I
only ask you to be as careful in the future as in the
past. Let these facts be considered as ours alone,
sir."
“I would be very happy to do this, but unfortu-
nately I was more ready to speak to my friends
than I was to the officers of the law. Several mem-
bers of my club know what I have just told you,
and while this is to be regretted, perhaps, it is
also the real cause for my being here. For it was
in my talk to them that I was led to see the harm
which might ensue upon my silence. I will talk no
more about it in the future, however.”
“And I will be much obliged,” remarked Mr.
Gryce.
As soon as possible after he had dismissed his


134
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
visitor, the detective went down to police head.
quarters. He had a talk with the superintendent
and that same day at an hour when he knew he
should find Dr. Molesworth at home, he went to
see him with a writ of arrest in his pocket.


BOOK II.
THE DARKENING CLOUD.
X.
JULIUS MOLESWORTH.
A SQUARE, dull looking room with two dim win-
dows facing a high brick wall; a large table covered
with phials, boxes of instruments, writing materials
and a few books; a black hair-cloth sofa and two
chairs ; a dingy carpet and a ceiling which has been
unwhitened for years; at the table and confront-
ing the only bright thing in the room, a hard coal
fire, the stern, immovable figure of a man buried in
the deepest thought. Such is Julius Molesworth's
office and such the appearance of Julius Moles-
worth himself on the afternoon of this his most
momentous day.
Let us examine this dull interior a little closer.
It is the reception-room, the home, the all of this
sombre and inscrutable man. The folding-bed
drawn up against the further wall shows this. Yet
within the space of its four bare walls not an
article of beauty nor an object of taste is to be
135


136
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
seen. He did not care for such, he had not the
money to buy such if he had wished, and as for the
mementos from grateful patients or the tokens of
affection from admiring friends, chiefly ladies, which
he sometimes received, he would thank the giver
for them with cool but careful politeness, and then
at the first opportunity toss them into the fire
where he would not even linger long enough to see
them burn. He had no wish to preserve any
token of woman's weakness about him. Woman's
strength on the contrary aroused his admiration.
Among the books which none too closely filled the
shelves of the old-fashioned book-case at the
opposite end of the room, was one, a Bible, (the
only volume in the collection that was not purely
medical in its character), which bore on its fly-leaf
in firm but strictly feminine writing, these lines :
“Live poor, go hungry, go cold, suffer any
amount of privation and discomfort, but do not fail
in what you undertake, nor be satisfied with any.
thing less than the first excellence."
The book had been his mother's and these words
had been written for him. He loved his mother
though he had never kissed her after his first youth
was passed, and he made these words of hers the
motto of his life. Had he mentally added any.
thing to them from his own experience? Let us
scrutinize his face as the leaping fire-light breaks
over it and see if we can determine.
But first what is he brooding over ? Such intent-


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
137
ness and absorption argue the existence of some
heavy subject on his mind. Though we know he
has enough to think upon, though we are conscious
of a portentous figure slowly approaching this
house, whose errand if known would lift that bowed
head in dismay, is it the death of Mildred Farley or
its possible results on his own life, which enchains
his present thoughts and gives to his brooding and
powerful countenance that look of anxious wrest.
ling with some hidden hope or fear? We will watch
him for a moment, studying those features which
some one said had not a regular line to recommend
them-and see if his eyes turn at the faint creak of
the door opening behind him or if his lips break
their firm line as the watchful gaze of one who looks
nowhere lightly, falls on his abstracted face. At
this first moment he is quiet and the charm of his
reverie is unbroken. We have time to note the
heavy brow with its line of dark hair, the large but
not unhandsome nose, the smoothly shaven cheeks
and the firm, set mouth about whose corners no
sweetness lurks; but we cannot see the eyes for
they are partly closed and it is in them that his
power lies or so we have been told. Even now there
is a glint beneath his eyelashes which moves us
strangely if we are feminine and susceptible ; a cer-
tain mysterious brightness that is not expressive of
tenderness, nor even of genius, but which is con-
trolling in its nature, and together with a well knit
form that is at times capable of exercising great


138
BEHIND
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
CLOSED DOORS.
strength, gives to this otherwise personally ungifted
being an attractiveness which many an Adonis
might envy. Yet it is not an attractiveness that
invites. Those who succumb to his influence do it
unsought.
The fairest woman decked with all the graces
that create enchantment about the feminine form,
might hesitate long before intruding her beauty
upon the sight of this man as he sits here lost in
exacting thought. Though she loved him,-
though she longed with all her passionate spirit to
touch with caressing hand the loose dark lock that
falls somewhat carelessly over his forehead, she
would ask herself if she dared, before she allowed
her hand to steal to his brow or her lips to breathe
his name. Alone, sufficient to himself, he battles
against his evil angels or fights with his good ones,
without assistance, comfort or diversion; his one
desire to know his profession thoroughly, his one
ambition to be recognized in it as the greatest phy-
sician of the age, the most learned and the most
successful.
For this he had struggled from boyhood. For
this he had borne cold and hunger and poverty as
his mother advised. For this he had been content
with present insignificance, confident that the day
would yet dawn when his fame amongst the respec-
table poor of the East Side would spread to those
precincts of wealth and intelligence where success


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
139
is followed by distinction, and distinction is fol-
lowed by power.
Indeed he was not sure but that this fortunate
day was at hand. He had only recently been
placed in charge of a case so peculiar and compli.
cated, that success in its treatment could not fail
to yield him the fame he so coveted. And success
was going to be his; he felt it, he knew it. Though
some of the most eminent physicians in the city had
attempted a cure and failed, he had no hesitation in
believing that a certain remedy which he had dis.
covered, would reach this very case and produce
results that would astonish the whole medical pro-
fession. To be sure it would require courage to
prescribe it and an indomitable will to pursue the
course of treatment which he felt to be necessary.
But there was no lack of these qualities in his
nature ; while his zeal was so great that he felt that
nothing could daunt him, and nobody stand in his
way. The opportunity of his life was before him,
and he felt bound to improve it. Was he meditat-
ing upon this case and determining just what his
course of treatment should be, as he sat there before
the fire ? His gradually lightening brow seemed to
say yes, and the startling fervor with which he sud-
denly broke the spell which bound him and arose,
told of a secret found rather than of a secret buried.
“Yes, it is—," he cried, “-in small but oft
repeated doses. I would willingly stake my life
upon it." And raising his head, he suddenly dis-


140
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
cerned in the looking-glass which hung opposite
him over the mantel-piece, a face turned towards
him from the open door, which though quiet and
composed in every feature, had yet that something
in it which tells the observer, that expected or un-
expected, his hour has come, and the hopes which
he has cherished are vainer than the vainest show.
He saw this face I say, but he did not at once
turn. He had a shock to get over, a course to be
resolved upon. When he did turn, it was with cour.
tesy and a slight show of surprise. “Excuse me,
said he, “ I do not receive patients at this hour."
“I am not a patient,” returned Mr. Gryce.
The doctor gazed slowly round his room. He
did not love it, but it held his all, and there was not
an object within it but spoke to his soul of some
cherished ambition, or secret all-absorbing wish.
“ But you have some business! I recollect your
face, but I cannot place you.”
“My face is of no account, my business is. Dr.
Molesworth, you are a physician of an unrelenting
school; the fewest words will answer with you. I
am an officer armed with a warrant, and I have
come to arrest you as the suspected murderer of
Mildred Farley."
The doctor who had been standing with his back
to the table, turned slightly and took up a paper
lying there. There were a few words written on
it and he read them before he gave the detective


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
141
that slight bow which was his .only answer to this
dread announcement.
"I am charged with placing you in custody,"
continued the detective. “But if there is anything
you wish to do,"
“I would like a half-hour,” the doctor responded
firmly. “I have a case—” his voice broke ; he
turned to his desk and sat down. “Don't inter-
rupt me,” he said, laying down the paper he held
and taking up his pen. “I have some memoranda
to make. They are important: a matter of life
and death to one poor woman.”
“Write," said the detective, “I am no gabbler."
And Dr. Molesworth wrote, calmly, thoughtfully,
with entire absorption in his subject, or so it seemed
to the eye who saw all, though it dwelt only on a
phial marked POISON that stood on the doctor's
table. Nor did that same eye detect any break in
this extraordinary calmness when, the last word
written, the physician turned and handing him the
paper, said:
“It will probably prove unintelligible to you,
but it can be easily read by any physician. Keep
it till I ask you for it.”
Then he turned again to his table and wrote
three or four letters all of which he handed over to
the other for inspection, before sealing and direct-
ing them. When all this was done, he rose, and
confronting the detective, observed :
“Now I am ready to go with you. The ques.


142
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
tion is where will you take me. You have arrested
me on a suspicion of murder ; for this you must
have had good reasons, better reasons than appeared
at the inquest, or you would not have delayed this
arrest. I will not question them, I will only say that
your evidence against me is circumstantial, must be,
since I did not do this deed ; and as circumstantial
evidence is never absolute proof, you are doing me
a great injustice by this action, and my patients an
irreparable harm. But you are not the principal
in this matter and I will not argue with you con-
cerning my innocence, but only ask one favor in
return for the possible wrong you do me. This
is the privilege of a short interview with a person I
am willing to name and whom I only desire to see
in your presence and if you wish, in your hearing."
“And may I inquire who this person is ?” re.
turned Mr. Gryce.
“A physician and a friend of mine; Dr. Walter
Cameron of No. — Fifth Avenue."
No name could have awakened a greater surprise
in Mr. Gryce's mind. Why, he could hardly have
said. The two doctors were practitioners in the
same school and Dr. Cameron had owned to an
acquaintance with Molesworth. Yet he was the
last person Mr. Gryce had expected to hear men-
tioned in this connection, and it seemed in some
way to lend quite a new aspect to the affair.
“But Dr. Cameron is out of town; he has gone


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
143
with his bride to Washington and I do not think
he has yet returned."
A shadow passed over the other's stern face.
“I must see him, nevertheless," he insisted.
“You have not yet shown me your warrant. Con-
sider me as a man under your surveillance merely
and go with me to Washington. You will not
regret it.” Then seeming to recognize the unrea-
sonableness of what he asked, he added, “ You are
following the commands of a superior ; let me see
him.”
“You shall, but do you object to telling me
what you want of Dr. Cameron?"
Julius Molesworth's face lighted up, a gleam
flashed from that strange eye of his and he looked
almost handsome.
"I could not make you understand, but-Did
you ever have any great ambition ?” he suddenly
asked, with rather a doubtful look at the elderly and
somewhat benevolent countenance before him.
Mr. Gryce smiled.
“ You may talk to me as if I had had," he re-
joined.
“Listen then. I am on the verge of attaining
mine. I have a case, peculiar, striking in its com-
plications, known to all the profession. It has
hitherto baffled the skill of every man who has
attempted to handle it; even Dr. — 's interest
was aroused and he gave it his best attention, but
to no avail, and now I, I know that I have found


144
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the requisite remedy, discovered the necessary
course of treatment. You will find it all on that
paper. And with this prospect before me, this
certainty I may say, you ask me what I want of Dr.
Cameron, the ablest man I know among the rising
practitioners of the day.”
“I think I understand,” said Mr. Gryce; “ but
put it into words. I want to know just what ground
I am standing on.”
“Well, then, if I must lose my liberty, this poor
woman must not lose her life nor science the pros-
pect of a valuable discovery. Though I should
have preferred to make my own experiments, I shall
be at comparative ease if I can get some one upon
whose judgment I can thoroughly rely to make
them for me. But where is the man I can trust?
I can think of but one, Dr. Cameron. He has the
ambition and he has the great qualities of mind
necessary to carry out the test I propose, in the
face of all the opposition he will receive. To him,
then, I wish to consign this case and immediately.
Have I made myself clear to you and is there any
hope of my wishes being complied with ?"
Mr. Gryce closed the pen-knife whose sharp blade
he had been considering through this long speech,
and silently raised his head. The doctor surveyed
him anxiously. What were his thoughts? His
oldest friend and most trusted colleague could not
have discovered.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
145
" Are the suspicions against me too strong for this
display of indulgence ?" persisted the physician.
“We will go to the superintendent,” decided Mr.
Gryce.
Dr. Molesworth bowed his thanks, then made his
final preparations for leaving. As they turned to
quit the room he touched the detective on the
shoulder..
“Are you at liberty to tell me upon what evi-
dence I have been arrested ?”.
Mr. Gryce's mouth grew stern.
“That is the province of the district-attorney.
I am an arm of the law and not the mouth.”
Dr. Molesworth said no more.
A carriage was at the door and they rode to
police headquarters. What passed there it is not
necessary to relate. Enough that in half an hour
they emerged, and getting again into the carriage,
told the driver to take them to Jersey City.
The journey to Washington was decided upon.
As Mr. Gryce was buying the tickets, Dr. Moles-
worth whispered in his ear:
“One other thing is requisite. We must surprise
the doctor in his room. I am no favorite of his,
and I doubt if he would listen to me if he had op-
portunity to escape my arguments. Promise me
you will take him unawares—as you did me."
The detective pocketed his change and turned ;
the prospect of travelling was evidently agreeable
to him. He looked quite young.
10


146
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“We will surprise him,” he replied. “I have no
wish to do anything else."
· Did he anticipate making any discoveries in
Washington ?


XI.
AT THE HOTEL IN WASHINGTON.
THERE are dark pictures and there are bright
ones. From the doctor's dull office let us pass to a
sunny room in Washington, where in the light of a
declining sun, Dr. Cameron sits gazing with tender
eyes upon his bride as she toys with a card of invi-
tation which has just been handed in.
“You will have to answer it,” she averred, closing
the fingers of her right hand with a look of pain;
“my rheumatism is no better."
“And what shall that answer be?" he inquired ;
"yes or no?"
For a moment she looked thoughtful; then she
smiled.
“You enjoy these gayeties," she remarked ; “let:
us make the most of them.”
“And do not you enjoy them too?'
She sighed, drew herself up proudly and replied:
“I enjoy being with you anywhere, even in
crowds."
He knew she did ; he knew that contrary to all
his expectations he had a loving wife, and his heart
warmed within him.
147


148
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Genevieve,” he remarked, “ you are coming out
from under the shadow. You look almost brilliant
to-day.”
“Do I?” her look seemed to say. And moved
by that look as he never expected to be by that of
any woman, he arose and drew her down by his
side, where he could contemplate her beauty to his
heart's content.
For Genevieve Cameron was beautiful, far beyond
what Genevieve Gretorex had ever promised to be.
Even a stranger must acknowledge this fact, and
how much more the husband to whose love and de-
votion this pleasing change was undoubtedly due.
Not only was her glance brighter and her smile more
winning, but a physical change had taken place in
her which altered her whole expression. He was
thinking of this change now as he watched her
color come and go under his gaze. He was thinking
of it and wondering at its cause as he had often
done since it was first revealed to him on the
morning following his marriage. Though he showed
no evidence of abstraction but continued his con-
versation with unabated animation, he was in re-
ality living over the astonishment and perplexity
of that extraordinary moment. Let me state what
he recalled. The day was the one after his marriage
and the time noon. He had just come in from a
short walk. He had left his bride asleep on the
lounge, worn out, with the fatigues of their night
journey and some trouble which he had not been


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
149
able to fathom. He thought her still resting, so
dark was the room and so void of any sound of
welcome. But just as he was about to approach on
tiptoe to the lounge where he had left her, he
heard a low and smothered exclamation at his side,
and turning, saw the figure of his wife bending
toward the mirror that hung between the windows.
She was looking at herself, and the weird reflection
of her countenance stared wildly out upon him as
her voice rose almost to a shriek, crying:
“Light, give me more light.”
Astonished and yet more troubled, for he had
not forgotten the fainting-fit with which she had
sealed the varied experiences of the night before,
he rushed to the windows and hastily raised the
shades. A low cry from his wife drew him back to
her side.
“Look at me!” she exclaimed, with her two
hands clasped over her face and her fingers buried
deep in her hair.
“What is it?” he asked, and then gave utterance
to an exclamation himself, for the head thus bowed
in seeming shame before him was white as snow,
white as a woman of ninety, whereas on yesterday
it had been a glorious brown.
The exclamation made her drop her hands, and
for a moment they stood looking wildly upon each
other ; then he said :
.“ Genevieve, you have had a terrible sorrow or
some terrible pain, to produce such an effect as this.


150
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Which of the two is it, my poor darling ? Speak,
for I long to comfort you, whether it is grief or some
fearful, unknown complaint."
Her answer had been a moan of joy, followed by
a sudden burst of tears.
“O, I have suffered," she cried, “suffered fear.
fully. I never thought to get through these last
few hours alive, but," Her hand which she had
held over her heart as if the pain were there, sud.
denly left it and flashed with a swift gesture towards
the New York paper which he held in his hand.
“The Herald !" she cried, “let me see it, the
notice of our marriage should be there.” And with
a laugh that was almost hysterical, she carried the
paper with her towards the window, saying, “Any-
thing to forget that pain. Frivolity, if frivolity can
do it."
More and more troubled, for these actions were
scarcely those of a sane woman, he watched her
with darkness in his soul for a moment, and then
seeing that her eye ran intelligently over the col.
umns, he sank into a chair questioning within him-
self as to what was to be his fate. The sweetest of
sounds aroused him. Genevieve was at his feet,
looking up into his face with a calm, almost an
ecstatic, expression.
“Do I act wildly?" she murmured, her eyes
gleaming with a natural light that yet luoked very
brilliant in contrast to the snowy low:ks which
framed them on either side. “I think it is because


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
151
my heart is so satisfied while my body is so racked
with pain. But even that is better to-day; my
head is all that troubles me now.” And she cast
her eyes down when she again became conscious of
her white locks.
“Good God!” she murmured below her breath,
“how shall I account for these.”
The sweetness in her face had made him her
ardent lover. Stooping, he took up a tress of this
lightly flowing hair and softly kissed it. “You will
not need to account for them,” said he, “their
beauty is their best excuse ;” and lifting her to her
feet he led her before the mirror and bade her
look.
She did so and almost started at the transforma-
tion she beheld. From being a woman of simply
fine appearance and noble air, she had leaped as it
were into magnificent beauty; the fair skin, the
dark eyes, the white hair forming a combination
without leaving an impression behind of marvellous
loveliness. She saw it and he saw it, and while
neither spoke there was a subtle interchange of
thought between them which called out a wary
dimple in her cheek which to his eyes finished the
picture. He smiled over her shoulder and in one
breath both said:
“ My own mother would not know me."
“Your own mother would not know you." At
which simultaneous expression of the same idea he
coid.


152
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
laughed and she colored, but not with shame,
rather with excessive pleasure.
“I am happy,” she breathed ; then lightly, and
with simple mirth in her voice, “ I cannot tell her
that my excuse for aging thus suddenly is that
my husband admires gray hairs.”
"To her you can tell the truth. She must have
known you were ill though you kept it from your
physician and lover.”
But Genevieve shook her head.
“No one knew” she answered. “I bore it as I
will bear it again if it comes.”
“But it shall not come again. Your physician is
now your husband and you cannot deceive him."
And he began to ask her questions about her
health which she at first attempted to answer and
then parried, saying at last :
.“ The pain is gone now, Walter; let us not bother
about it but be happy.” Then with an arch smile
all light, all joy, “ Are you sure you like me better
so? Will you not regret my brown locks after the
first surprise is gone by ?"
The answer was decisive.
“Never ;” said he, and drawing her passionately
to his breast, he whispered, “ Admiration has grown
into passion, Genevieve. I love you, not with
calmness, propriety and discretion, but madly, as
the first man loved the first woman before ever the
serpent crept into paradise.”
"And all because of my white hairs! I will be


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
153
worthy of this crown,” she exclaimed ; and with a
step that scarcely seemed to touch the ground, she
glided from him and disappeared in the little room
beyond.
And Walter Cameron who had not wished to
love more than was compatible with an undivided
attention to his profession, found himself absolutely
dazzled.
He was thinking of all this as I have said, and
wondering over it while talking to her about her
dress which on that day was especially picturesque
and becoming. Nor did his thoughts stop at this
point, but by some strange freak of mental activity,
ran on through the various experiences of the days
which had intervened between that time and this.
He saw more plainly than he did the face before
him, the looks of admiration which her appearance
excited the first time he took her into a public
assemblage; and remembered with quite a startling
distinctness, the expression of astonishment which
crossed the features of a New York friend upon
meeting one whom he had known so well, thus
changed and beautified. It was an earnest of what
lay before them on their return to the metropolis ;
and Dr. Cameron recalled with feelings of delight,
her attitude of proud unconsciousness, followed by
the smile of gracious and indulgent greeting with
which she hailed an homage which she could not
but perceive. Then those petty memories of her
various freaks and fancies, which at times marred


154
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the effect of her presence, and at other times height-
ened it—why should he recall them now when he
had these deep inquiring eyes before him and these
dimpling cheeks which were beginning to show such
bloom and brightness! He felt annoyed at himself
and yet his thoughts ran on, counting up the hours
when she had seemed lost in abstraction, and the
moments when she had been found lacking in words
for those they knew best, or what was worse,
uttered incongruities calculated to awaken surprise
and possibly dismay in the hearts of those who
heard her. Why it was only yesterday she com-
mitted a breach of etiquette which argued a mind
so far away from the scene in which they were
taking rather a conspicuous part, that it needed all
his love and indulgence to prevent him from be-
traying the shame which such culpable indifference
to what was required of her as a guest aroused.
And yet when recalled to her duty by a word, how
graciously she had lent herself to the reparation of
her fault, and how earnest had been the look with
which she had studied his face to see how deep
her offence had gone. 'Twas a mysterious nature
moved by mysterious moods, and though she be-
trayed at times certain little awkwardnesses of man-
ner strangely in contrast with the somewhat stately
character of her beauty, there was also visible in
her air and bearing the suggestion of great inner
forces which lent to her least look and action the
fascination of the indefinable and unexpected. And
.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
155
yet with all this charm and gayety, all was not well
with her. There was something hidden in his par-
adise which if once discerned he felt would banish
sleep from his eyes. But he did not dare to ques-
tion what it was, any more than he dared to ques-
tion whether the illness of which she complained,
had been the real secret of the extraordinary
change which had taken place in her, or not. That
with all these doubts his paradise was a fool's par.
adise he could not gainsay. But if this was so, he
was but living over the experience of many a
greater man before him, and her secret, if secret she
had, was not a dishonoring one, or her eyes could
never lift themselves to his with such purity of de-
votion as he now saw in them.
Arrived at this point in his meditations, he
paused in surprise that he was not satisfied with
this look. Surely its language was unmistakable.
Why make himself miserable when he had ocular
proofs of her womanliness and devotion in every
glance she gave him! He would do it no more: he
would drop the past from his thoughts and aban-
don himself solely to the present. Intent upon this
resolve, he exclaimed suddenly:
“I must show you to my friends. When shall
we go back to New York?”
A shadow fell upon the brightness of her face.
“ O, must we go back?" she cried. “I wish we
could live here always." Then, observing his
astonishment, she added, “I hate New York; I


156
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
should be glad if we never had to see it again.
There, I shall have only a part of you, here I have
the whole.”
What could any man but two weeks married say
in answer. He stooped over her and gave her a
kiss and then with that strange sensation we some-
times have of an intruding presence, he lifted his
head and was startled to perceive a dark figure gaz-
ing on him from the doorway, whose countenance
he did not at once recognize, so great was his anger
and chagrin.
“Who are you?” he cried, leaping to his feet.
“I thought our door was shut-” But here the
figure stepping forward, he beheld a face he knew,
but little expected to see in this spot, and greatly
astonished, he paused and waited, while the other
advancing still further, said:
“Your pardon. We understood from the hall-boy
that this was a public reception room." And with
this Dr. Cameron became aware that a second in-
truder had entered and was standing behind the
first comer. The face was unknown to him, nor did
he look at it twice, his attention being directed
towards Dr. Molesworth, who was saying:
“I have some business with you, Dr. Cameron.
May I venture to tell you what it is?"
“Business with me?”.
“Yes, sir.”
The answer was brief and slightly abstracted, for
his gaze had fallen on Mrs. Cameron and he evi..


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
157
dently felt that surprise and involuntary admiration
which every stranger now experienced in seeing her
for the first time.
“ My wife !” was Dr. Cameron's cold introduction.
Both gentlemen bowed and Genevieve rose. A
flush of indignation was on her brow and she looked
almost threatening. But she contented herself with
a short bow, so icy and repellant, that Dr. Moles-
worth dropped his eyes and from that moment for-
ward ignored her very presence.
It was not so with his companion. Either her
beauty or the surprising change which had taken
place in her appearance fascinated him, for his gaze
never left her vicinity, after her first introduction
to him. Yet he seemed to lose nothing of what
was said, though he kept himself as much in the
back-ground as possible.
“I will not detain you long," were the words with
which Dr. Molesworth introduced his subject.
“That my business is important I leave you to in-
fer from the fact that I have journeyed all the
way from New York to see you."
Dr. Cameron's courtesy had by this time re.
turned. He pushed forward a chair and invited
his visitor to sit down.
“ I shall be happy to hear," said he, and lent
his full attention, while Genevieve, turning with
chill dignity, withdrew into a window recess near
by.
“I am Julius Molesworth.
If you do not re-


158
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
member me as your former class-mate and fellow-
practitioner, you probably will as one of the lead-
ing witnesses in an inquest which has aroused con-
siderable attention of late.”
Dr. Cameron's countenance changed. For rea-
sons that we know he had taken a great interest in
this inquest, though he had said nothing about it
to his wife.
“Pardon me,” he replied, “I do recollect. I
read of the death of your affianced wife, with the
utmost sympathy; for—"
Here by some attraction he could not under-
stand, his gaze wandered from the man before him
to the person who had accompanied him into the
room, and the consequence was that the words fal-
tered on his tongue and he grew strangely embar-
rassed. For in the large form of this man and the
disguised but not wholly unfamiliar countenance, he
thought he saw again that mysterious being under
whose influence he had consented to act as a spy
upon the privacy of Mildred Farley on that memor-
able evening of his marriage, and this being held
up a warning finger and glanced with pointed con-
sideration at his wife.
“For she died upon the same night that you
were married," broke in Dr. Molesworth complet-
ing the other's sentence.
Dr. Cameron bowed. He knew now why the
detective, if it were the detective, had stopped him.
It would be anything but pleasant to Genevieve to


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
159
hear of the extraordinary likeness between herself
and this poor suicide ; a likeness, moreover, which
had evidently well nigh vanished in the change
which had taken place in Mrs. Cameron, or Dr.
Molesworth would have been struck by it, and he
manifestly was not.
" It is of Miss Farley and her unaccountable death
that I have first to speak,” continued the intruder
calmly. “If you have read the proceedings, you
know what the verdict was and what general cre,
dence was given me at the inquest. You will there.
fore be surprised to hear that for some reason
unknown to me, the police authorities have seen fit
to discredit the evidence given by me at that time,
and that I stand before you now in the character of
an accused man, with the prospect of arrest before
me."
“I-am sure—" Dr. Cameron stammered, glanc-
ing with some embarrassment at the tall and immov-
able figure of his wife, outlined against the faint
yellow of the evening sky.
*Do not think you must express surprise or
sympathy," interpolated Dr. Molesworth coldly;
“I am innocent. But," he continued with less
dignity but more fervor, “that has nothing to do
with the fact that my prospects are ruined by this
suspicion and my career at an end. · Whether I am
committed to trial or not, my name must suffer and
my practice receive a shock from which it will be
long in recovering. It is a great misfortune to me,


160
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
I acknowledge, but you may make it a less serious
one if you will."
“I?"
Why did Dr. Cameron look again at his wife?
Why did the expression of Mr. Gryce who was
always looking at her, change and deepen indefina-
bly. She had not moved. Her two arms, stretched
out and grasping the curtains on each side of her,
had the firmness of steel, and in her proud head
held erect in the fixed attention she was seemingly
giving to the outer world, no sign appeared of her
having heard a word of what went on behind her
in the room in which she stood. Yet her husband
felt a strange chill as he noted her attitude, and
thought of a cross outlined against a darkening sky.
While Mr. Gryce, whose mind we have less skill in
penetrating when he drops his eyebrows as now
over his eyes, could have received anything but a
cheerful impression from this figure of grace and
beauty, or why the sudden rigidity in his own
form, that but a moment before looked so comfort-
able and at ease. Dr. Molesworth alone remained
unchanged.
" It is a conundrum which I have propounded
to you,” he observed, in calm allusion to what he
had before said. “As you seem to possess no key
to it-" He paused and one would have said he
held his breath for a moment—“I shall have to pro-
duce my own. 1-” he paused. “Did your wife


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
161
speak?” he suddenly asked, rising with every ap-
pearance of respect.
“I think not," returned the other somewhat
haughtily.
Dr. Molesworth bowed and again sat down.
“ Excuse me,” he cried and Dr. Cameron was sure
he heard him sigh ; " I would not wish to weary the
lady." Then with recurrence to his business-like
tones, “I asserted that you could help me. It was
not lightly said, for you are a bold man and an
ambitious one. “If a complicated and dangerous
case were given you that demanded unusual meas-
ures, you would take them I am sure. If that case
belonged to another man and he were sick or dis.
abled from attending to his duties, you would listen
to his diagnosis and make yourself acquainted with
his theory of cure, and if it met with your approval,
accept it as your own and treat that case with all
the interest and attention which you would have
bestowed upon it if the method of treatment had
been your own.”
“ I think so," returned the other, simply.
“Well, such a case I have," proceeded Dr.
Molesworth, with steady impressiveness. “The
patient is Bridget Halloran ; you have doubtless
heard of her and how she has been given up by Drs.
S- and B- But I am certain that she can
be cured. That this line of treatment—" He
looked towards the detective who thereupon
handed him a slip of paper, “ will prove startlingly
II


162
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
efficacious and give to the man bold and deter
mined enough to use it, an enviable notoriety."
“Let me see,” exclaimed the other, his profes
sional interest aroused in spite of himself.
The paper was handed him and the doctors'
two heads so dissimilar in appearance and yet so
like in their expression of intellectual superiority,
came together over it.
The consultation which followed will not interest
the reader. It was purely professional and had
enough technical terms in it to awe me from any
attempt to reproduce it. Enough that as they pro-
ceeded, Dr. Cameron's look of reserve and possible
prejudice gave way to one of undisguised admira-
tion, and he asked without any tone of envy in his
voice :
“How did you come by this, Molesworth? It
has the appearance of a positive discovery to me."
“I got it by hard thought," was the other's
reply. “I get nothing by intuition as you do."
“So much the more credit to you ;" observed
Dr. Cameron, folding up the paper and putting it
in his pocket.
“And you will take this case ?"
“On the condition that if successful the entire
credit shall be yours."
A look hard to fathom flashed in the dark eye of
Julius Molesworth for an instant. It seemed as if
he longed to hold out his hand but he did not do
it, and an instant's silence fell upon the group.


100 DARKENING CLOUD.
163
“ There seems to be no further reason for our
remaining here," Dr. Molesworth at length ob-
served. “I have finished my business, and,” turn-
ing towards the detective, “ am now at your ser-
vice." And yet he seemed in no hurry to go.
As for Mr. Gryce, he showed no signs of having
heard the doctor. His glance had fallen upon a
strip of passementerie on Mrs. Cameron's silken
skirts. From his puckered brows it looked as
though he were studying a problem.
“I hope you will be able to follow out your
experiment yourself, before many days,” courte.
ously remarked Dr. Cameron. “This—this com-
mittal of which you speak cannot last long. All
will be cleared up before the Grand Jury, or I am
very much mistaken in the man whose ideas I have
just been forced to adopt.”
His visitor bowed but shook his head. “I never
borrow anything from hope,” said he; and being
risen to his feet by this time, he made a profound
obeisance towards the immovable figure at the
window, and turned to leave the room.
The detective tore his gaze from the strip of pas-
sementerie which had so engaged his attention and
followed him. The stern and solemn picture which
they both carried away with them was that of a
woman's tall and rigid form stretched as it were on
a cross against a sky, down which were slowly flut-
tering the first flakes of a coming snow-storm,


XII.
CURIOSITY OR INTEREST?
THAT evening there was a great ball in Washing-
ton and the woman who shone the most resplen-
dent and received the most homage was our young
bride, Genevieve Cameron. Even her husband
who had begun to expect everything from her, was
amazed. Words in which she was sometimes lack-
ing, came freely from her lips, and the wit which
in her case took the place of knowledge, glittered
in all she said with just enough keenness to fasci.
nate. Her white hair made her conspicuous and
her beaming eyes and dimpling mouth, amid whose
smiles just the hint of smothered feeling showed
itself at times, caused the gaze which fell upon her
to linger till Dr. Cameron experienced a touch of
happy jealousy, and laughingly whispered in her
ear:
“ It is fortunate this is our last ball here, or I
should soon be ordering coffee and pistols for my-
self and some of these fierce-looking ambassadors."
She shuddered but nevertheless forced a smile,
and in a few minutes was more sparkling than ever.
If it were their last ball she would enjoy it to the
164


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
165
utmost; and it certainly promised to be as they
were going home on the morrow.
This change in their programme had been occa-
sioned by the promise which Dr. Cameron had
given to Dr. Molesworth. No demur had been
made by Genevieve, and their arrangements were
all made for leaving. That she could dance away
the last hours of her happy stay in this city of all
cities, seemed a delight to her, though I should
rather say, talk away, for she talked more than she
danced, possibly because Dr. Cameron had once
said that he did not especially enjoy seeing his
wife in the arms of another man, while as for
square dances she detested them, and always had.
Her dress was white—the one in which she had
been married—and amongst its other claims to
admiration was a peculiarly graceful arrangement
of drapery on the left side. This was the reason
perhaps, why Mrs. General F approached her
in the dressing-room, and after looking at her with
the greatest delight for a moment, exclaimed rapt.
urously :
“I never did see any one with such costumes as
you wear. Who is your modiste ? Tell me, that is
a good girl.”
The lady was elderly and her manner was caress-
ing rather than impertinent, but Mrs. Cameron was
much displeased, and showed it by the angry flush
that crimsoned her brow and neck. Her words


166
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
nevertheless were gracious, though she did not
answer the other's question.
“I am really much obliged to you for your appre-
ciation,” she cried; "but I really cannot give such
a weighty secret away so lightly. I have gnomes
and fairies to do my work, and have sworn never to
reveal their whereabouts.”
It was a trifling incident—almost too trifling to
record—but it wearied her, and it was not long
before she testified her wish to return home. In
the early morning they started for New York.
When about half way to Philadelphia, Mrs. Cam.
eron leaned forward and touched her husband.
“When persons are situated like that Dr. –
Dr. Molesworth who came to see us yesterday, do
they go to prison ?" she asked.
Glad to hear her allude to a matter which had
aroused his own interest extremely, he turned and
gave her as lucid an explanation of the subject as
circumstances would allow. She did not appear
much interested, but when he finished, she sighed
and remarked :
“He did not look like a guilty man, did you
think so? I feel very sorry for him.” And she
sank back into her seat with a weary air.
She did not speak of the subject again for days.
It had been Dr. Cameron's intention to carry his
wife directly to the home he had prepared for her.
But their unexpected return made this unadvisable,
and he accordingly took her to St. Nicholas Place.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
167
She had not wished to go there, but she did not
know how to make objection, so she said nothing,
and by six o'clock of that same day, she found her-
self in her mother's arms.
"My dearest !” was that mother's graceful saluta-
tion as she turned her cold cheek formally to her
daughter's lips. “What a delightful surprise !
And your father,-how pleased he will be! But
what an undutiful child you have been not to write
to me! I don't believe a word about the rheuma-
tism which Dr. Cameron says is your sole excuse.
You never had the rheumatism before you were
married. You have simply been lazy or anxious to
show your power over your good husband. He
has written quite regularly, good-for-nothing girl
that you are!"
And Mrs. Gretorex whom this happy event
seemed to have made ten years younger, drew back
and looked at her daughter with sudden and some-
what vivid curiosity.
“Why do you keep on your veil?” she asked.
“Come into the parlor and let me have a look at
you, and see what Dr. Cameron means when he
says you have lost your beautiful brown locks."
They were standing in the hall, down whose broad
and inviting sweep Genevieve was secretly casting
shy and fearful glances. “For hair to turn at
your age and so suddenly is incredible. You must
have had a very unhappy honeymoon.” And with
a laugh startlingly gay and unrestrained, for this


168
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
model of lady-like composure and elegance, Mrs.
Gretorex led the way into the parlor where she
speedily busied herself with untying her daughter's
veil.
“ Prepare to be surprised,” cried Dr. Cameron, as
it came away in the mother's hand and revealed
Genevieve's countenance.
An exclamation from Mrs. Gretorex answered
him.
“Why, she is beautiful! A piece of coquetry, my
child ! you knew it only needed this to make you
irresistible. Another kiss, Genevieve," continued
the gratified mother, turning her cheek for the sec-
ond time, “ I must call your father, I must indeed."
And she hastened away towards the library, while
Genevieve fell back into a chair, with an air of proud
relief that her husband thought eminently becoming.
The evening thus agreeably inaugurated, was not
without its hints of unpleasantness, however. In
the first place, Mrs. Gretorex, though delighted
with her daughter's bearing and appearance, was
not altogether satisfied with her manner. Gene.
vieve did not talk enough, and when she did enter
into the conversation, it was upon other topics than
those chosen by the mother. Then she did not
show that interest in domestic affairs which the oc-
casion seemed to require; never asking once about
certain changes in servants which Mrs. Gretorex
considered of infinite importance. Nor did she show
herself concerned when the mother announced that


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
169
Clara Foote was on her way home, deprecating,
indeed, every allusion to this person who had
formerly been, and still held the title of being,
her most intimate friend. Mrs. Gretorex not un-
derstanding this, and becoming gradually irritated
by an apathy so unnatural, finally asked her daugh-
ter what it meant. Whereupon Genevieve replied
with some spirit, that she had heard some things
said about Clara of late which had turned her com-
pletely against her, and that she no longer re-
garded her as her friend or ever should again.
This was unpleasant in the extreme, particularly as
she would not explain herself or hear the subject
argued. She and Clara were alienated and that was
enough; she was not even sure she should accept
the present that young lady had sent her. But the
climax was reached when Mrs. Gretorex in the most
natural tone in the world, asked Genevieve to go
up-stairs with her to the room she had occupied as a
girl.
“I want you to tell me what to do with cer-
tain articles,” she explained. “Everything is just
as you left it,” said she. “I would not have any.
thing touched.”
“You are very good,” replied Genevieve, coldly,
“but you must excuse me from going into such
matters to-night.”
“But—" began the mother.
“I am too tired and I don't feel like it. Some


170
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
other day, when I have not just come from a long
railway-journey."
Mrs. Gretorex was displeased; her wishes had
hitherto been law in this house. Genevieve saw it
and turned quite a penitent glance in her direction.
“ I am sorry to disoblige you,” said she, her
mouth taking that expression of rare sweetness
which gave to her very caprices a certain attractive
charm. “But the fact is, the doctor has almost
spoiled me. He has humored my whims more than
he must do in the future or I shall grow into a very
selfish wretch. Do you hear, Walter ? "
Walter did hear but he thought it best to seem
buried in conversation with his father-in-law; while
Mrs. Gretorex, appeased in a measure, smiled with
less bitterness and asked some question in relation
to the etiquette of the White House. The family
harmony was seemingly restored; but Mrs.
Cameron did not go up-stairs.
The result of all this was that she asked her
husband the first thing in the morning, if their own
home could not be got ready for them that day,
and upon his deciding that it could at least be made
habitable, she announced it as her intention to re-
move immediately. And she did so, carrying out
her determination not ungraciously but firmly, ac-
cepting inconveniences and parrying objections, till
Dr. Cameron felt very much flattered at her evident
preference for his sole and undivided society. And
so it was that Genevieve Cameron the wife, cut the


172
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
ing even this man that white is black,” she laughed,
touching her hair with her jewelled finger.
“I don't know," he murmured, “ you have not
tried.” And so their parting was pleasant.
Next morning she was first at the paper again
and this time she explained herself.
“ I do not see any notice of Dr. Molesworth's
arrest. Should it not be in the papers ? "
“Certainly, and I have been wondering about it
myself. They can give me no news of him at the
hospital and the case he spoke of has become mine;
but there is no talk anywhere of his being in custody
or even under the surveillance of the police. I
think I will hunt him up at his home.”
" It would be kind of you," quoth Genevieve.
And thus it was that Dr. Cameron rang Mrs.
Olney's bell one morning, and being ushered in,
asked for Dr. Molesworth. He was told he was
not well, but saw a few patients and perhaps would
see him ; whereupon, Dr. Cameron sent in his name
and waited with considerable curiosity for the re-
sponse.
It came speedily and was to the effect that the
doctor would be pleased if he would step to his
office. Dr. Cameron at once complied, and upon
entering that bare and unattractive spot, saw first
the figure of his colleague stretched upon a long
hair-cloth sofa, and next that of a small and insig-
nificant looking man, who with his face bent over a
cheap novel which he held in his hand, seemed


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
173
to take up a certain amount of space rather than
add his personality to the scene.
“I am glad," began Dr. Molesworth springing to
his feet as the door closed behind the servant, “ for
an opportunity to ask you how our patient is getting
on."
st
“Well," returned the other ; " considering that
the nurse shakes her head over every drop of medi-
cine she gives her.”
“You will have that nurse removed; the case must
not suffer from any such nonsense as that.'
Dr. Cameron nodded and looked curiously at his
companion.
“ You are ill, they say?”
A grim smile disturbed the corners of the other's
lips for a moment.
“I have a nurse you see."
Dr. Cameron cast a glance at the silent figure of
the man in the corner.
“I understand,” his intelligent look seemed to
say. Then with quiet solicitude.“ And how soon
do you think you will be better ?”
Dr. Molesworth shook his head. “As I have not
yet made a satisfactory diagnosis of my case, I will
not venture to prophesy."
“Do you want a prescription ?".
“ No."
“ Do you want anything ?”
“Not from you."


174
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
It was gently said. Dr. Cameron looked at the
speaker with renewed interest.
“I was uneasy about you," was his earnest re-
mark; “So was my wife. I am glad to find you
comparatively comfortable."
“Mrs. Cameron is very good.” Dr. Molesworth's
bow was profound, his tone very serious.
Dr. Cameron moved towards the door.
“I judge,” exclaimed the other, with an aspect of
much respect, “ that the evening which brought
me such misfortune, brought you the happiness of
your life?”
The light in his visitor's eyes was unmistakable.
“You have said it,” he assented.
Dr. Molesworth's lips parted in a smile, that
touched the other strangely.
“I congratulate you," said he, and softly closed
the door between them.


XIII.
TRIVIALITIES.
DR. CAMERON met his wife at a restaurant that
afternoon and they went home together. He had
told her of his interview with Molesworth and she
had uttered a polite word or two of thanks, but her
interest was evidently less than in the morning
and he did not strive to increase it. Her gayety
was too agreeable for him to mar it. He basked in
her smiles and lent himself unreservedly to the
pleasure of the moment. At the door of their own
house they looked at each other and smiled.
"It is pleasant to get home," he cried.
“It is heaven,” she faintly murmured.
The house was not large, but it was exquisitely
furnished. As they entered, an atmosphere of ease
and luxury enveloped them, making it hard for
them to part at the foot of the stairs.
“Come up," entreated Genevieve. And he went,
excusing himself for this open disregard of certain
duties awaiting him, by the plea that there was so
much to talk about when people were settling
themselves in a new home.
And so it happened that he was standing by her
175


176
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
boudoir fire when Genevieve entered her dressing-
room to take off her hat; and the two rooms being
contiguous, he plainly heard the cry of astonish-
ment she uttered as she beheld lying out before
her on the bed her whole assortment of dresses.
“What is it?” he asked, hurrying to her side.
“O nothing, I suppose. I was surprised at this
display of silk and velvet, and I can't imagine now
what it means.'
“We will soon find out,” he rejoined, and turned
to ring the bell.
But at this instant the young girl whom they had
temporarily engaged for up-stairs work, came into
the room wearing an anxious and somewhat trou-
bled expression.
“Did you call, ma'am?" she asked, watching
with concern how her mistress' eye fell on her out-
spread dresses.
“No, but I should have done so in a moment.
Why are these things lying here? I left them
carefully hung up in closets orlaid away on
shelves. Who has presumed in my absence to take
them down ?"
“I am sure, ma'am," began the girl, tremblingly,
“ I thought you ordered it. The young woman
seemed very sure of herself and told me just what
dress you wanted fixed, only I couldn't find it.”
“Young woman? What young woman.”
“Why, the one from the dressmaker's, ma'am.
She told me you had sent for her ; that one of your


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
177
dresses, a blue silk, she said, was too long in the
skirt, and that she had come to fix it. She had her
needle and thread with her, ma'am, and looked very
respectable. But I couldn't find the blue silk, and
she went away.”
"I sent for no girl from any dressmaker and you
did very wrong to touch my dresses without my
express order. It is lucky she did not walk away
with one."
“O, ma'am," the girl exclaimed, “ she was very
respectable, and said herself there must be some
mistake. You can see her, ma'am, if you wish, she
will tell you it is just as I say.”
Mrs. Cameron's lips opened, but her husband's
voice forestalled her.
“She left her name, then, and told you the place
where she works ?”
“ No, sir. But as she came from the dressmaker
who made the dresses, Mrs. Cameron will know—"
“What are you talking about?” that lady broke
in, angrily. “How do you know she came from the
dressmaker who makes my dresses."
“Why, ma'am,” was the reply, “I couldn't help
it. She had bits and pieces of them all in her hand
and compared them on the sly. She did not know
as I saw her, but I did, and that was the one thing
I didn't like about her. For what business had she
with any but the blue silk she was sent to fix."
Dr. Cameron smiled and stepped back into the
'boudoir. After all it was a trifling matter which


178
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
his wife could easily settle. He did not perceive
that she had grown startlingly white about the lips,
and could hardly speak the words which the occa-
sion demanded.
" She had pieces like these dresses ?" she
repeated. “Like how many of them and like
which ones? Tell me at once.”
The girl more and more troubled, shook her head.
“There was a bit like this one,” she returned, point-
ing to a superb dinner-dress of gray velvet, "and a
piece of trimming such as is on that one,” indica-
ting this time a lovely tea gown of light-brown silk.
“ And I saw her look very particularly at the white
dress, ma'am, and at the buttons on this coat. But
them girls all do those things and I'm sure she took
nothing away.”
Mrs. Cameron sank into a chair, looked at the
luxurious garments in which she had shone like a
bright particular star in Washington, and seemed to
be seized with sudden distaste for them.
“ Hang them up,” she cried, “and whatever hap-
pens, don't take them down from their pegs again
unless I tell you.” Then as the girl moved to do
her bidding, she asked again, with a sharp tone in her
voice, “ Are you sure the pieces you saw were
exactly like the dresses she compared them with?"
“Sure, ma'am,” was the emphatic reply. “I was
quite near, and I couldn't have told the two apart,
in no case."
Genevieve sighed, took off her wraps and ad.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
179
vanced to the boudoir. “I am in a dream” was
what her looks seemed to say; but if this was so,
the dream must have been dispelled at the thresh.
old, for it was a brilliant, talkative and merrily
smiling woman that stepped into the other room,
and with a glance dispelled the frown of thought
that had settled upon her waiting husband's brow.
The mystery of this occurrence, so petty and yet
so unexplainable, was followed up by one not so
petty and yet fully as hard to understand. A gen-
tleman called—that very evening, I think—and
affixed to his name on the card were the words,
Pressing business.
They both saw him, he having sent for both,
and after a word or two of introduction, he told his
errand in this wise.
“I have come," said he,“ to ask Mrs. Cameron a
very simple question.” And turning to that lady,
he inquired the name of her dressmaker.
Had the ceiling above her suddenly bent and
caved in, Genevieve could not have looked more
astonished and possibly not more terrified.
"Your pardon," this gentleman continued. “I
am abrupt and you probably think, rude. Let me
explain myself. Dr. Cameron, you, if not your
wife, doubtless remember the affair of a young girl
who died in a doctor's gig not long ago from a dose
of prussic-acid ?"
It was now Dr. Cameron who looked amazed.


180
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ Mildred Farley ?” he inquired, wondering why
this name was ever springing up at his hearthstone.
“ The same," rejoined the other.
“ Yes," assented the doctor, with a glance at his
wife, which she did not meet, so absorbed was she
in the flames of the dancing fire-light before her ;
“ I remember the occurrence well; it was not only
sad but mysterious. Can the question you have put
my wife have any bearing upon this tragic affair ? "
“Some," responded the other, looking however
with a most paternal smile, upon the still and
stately woman who, evidently waiting for him to
make his business more intelligible, listened, but
said nothing to his enigmatical remark.
“ Mildred Farley was a dressmaker,” this gentle-
man went on. “If you read the newspapers you
know that and also know that she worked hard at her
duties for some weeks before her death. But what
is very strange in her connection, and, together with
some other reasons unnecessary to state here, makes
it difficult for the police to settle down to the belief
that her death was the simple suicide it at first
seemed, is that no one has succeeded in discovering
for whom she worked, and to what home she carried
the various dresses she finished in that time. For
though it may not be material to know this, and may
not help the affair forward one jot towards its rightful
issue, yet because it is a mystery and an unsolved
one, those whose business it is to see every doubt.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
181
ful case made clear, have sent me to this house to
see if some light cannot be thrown by you upon it.”
He paused and looked at Genevieve. She at
once raised her eyes and surveyed him steadily.
“You think then, that I knew Mildred Farley?"
was her question, clearly and coldly uttered.
“ Did you not?” he inquired.
Her lips broke into a smile. “ Ask Dr. Cam-
eron,” she suggested, and seemed to think she had
answered his question.
Their visitor glanced at the doctor, met only a
dubious shake of the head, and continued in a more
formal tone.
"If you did not know Miss Farley, it is strange
she should have made the dresses of your trousseau,
Mrs. Cameron."
"I don't understand you," was that lady's reply.
“My dresses were made by any one but that girl.
This I can assure you most positively, sir.”
"You can. We are then brought round to my
first question : who was it that did make your
dresses, Mrs. Cameron ?".
It was smilingly said but it caused her to flush
with great indignation.
“ Is it necessary that I should tell you?" she
somewhat haughtily inquired.
“ If you do not, I cannot prevent certain people I
know from thinking it was Mildred Farley."
“And why?" Dr. Cameron now broke in.


182
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“What reasons have they or any one to connect my
wife with that poor unfortunate?”
“Only a very material one which I leave to Mrs.
Cameron to explain. In the room of that dead girl
were found scraps and ends of silk and velvet, which
were preserved by the police as pieces of the goods
she had been lately making up into dresses.
Among these was a morsel of trimming—here it is
—and as this trimming or some just like it, was seen
by chance upon a dress worn by Mrs. Cameron, it
struck one of our agents that she was in all proba-
bility the lady who had profited by this poor girl's
handiwork.”
“ The conclusion of a man!" exclaimed Mrs.
Cameron, with chill sarcasm. “I suppose there are
in this city to-day, twenty ladies with just that
trimming on their gowns.”
“And with this gray velvet for a dress? And
this—I do not know how to call it-for another?
And this soft white silk so suitable for a bride's
adorning, and—”.
“ Enough, enough,” cried Mrs. Cameron, putting
up her hands merrily as a half dozen samples of
various goods and colors fell in a shower into her
lap. “I own to these, but I do not own to Mildred
Farley. I know the trick that was played upon
me to-day, and I am sure I thank you gentlemen
heartily; but you waste your time ; you will never
find that she did any sewing for me, however she
came into possession of these pieces.” And with a


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
183
half careless, half disdainful smile, she Airted the
bits aside, looking so imperious and so charming,
that for a moment her visitor seemed a trifle
abashed and half rose as if to go. “ You see if I
had anything to tell, I would,” she murmured, gra-
ciously. “But I have not. I cannot explain any
more than you how these samples from my dresses
should have been found where they were. I can
only look at them and wonder. Is that enough,
sir."
“ Hardly,” his look seemed to say, but he rose.
“ And you will not tell me where your dresses
were made?" he smiled.
She shook her head, laughed, and rose with an
arch air.
“ It is a secret I have kept even from my hus-
band, but if you must have it, you must.” And
rising on tiptoe with a look of merry defiance at
the doctor, she whispered something in the visitor's
ear.
He listened, stared at her a moment, and broke
into a genial laugh.
“And so this is your secret," he cried. “Well, I
know how to respect the secrets of a lady when
such respect does not interfere with my duty.”
And with a gallant bow he took his leave, ex-
pressing the hope that he had not made his call
too lengthy.
After he was gone Dr. Cameron turned to his
wife.


184
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“And what did you whisper in that big man's
ear to calm him so suddenly ?”
“Ah, you want to know my secret too," she
laughed. “Well, I told him that the work which
has been so much admired had been done by no
woman. That in my vanity and desire for original-
ity I had had the poor taste to employ a man, and
that I was secretly ashamed of it.”


XIV.
THE BACK PORCH.
“SHE told you that ? ” cried Mr. Gryce. “And
you believed her? Humph!”
“She spoke the truth,” asserted his companion-
the gentleman whose name we purposely sup-
pressed in the last chapter.
“ You think so ?”
“I do. There was something in her tone,
whisper though it was, which brought conviction.
I do not question her word in the least.”
“Well, we will see ; I did not hear her and so
may be pardoned for having my doubts. I will
talk with you again, sir. The play may not be
worth the candle, and it may; a few days more
will determine."
“And Molesworth ?”.
“ Is very well as he is."
This conversation, fragmentary though it is, will
show something of the stand which Mr. Gryce was
taking in this matter. He had Molesworth under
his eye and as good as under arrest, and yet he was
not satisfied. Something—was it instinct or expe-
rience-told him that this affair possessed complica-
185


186
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
tions of no ordinary nature, and that to a conscien.
tious man like himself, there were doubts to be
solved and possibilities to be sounded, before he
would dare proceed against the doctor as against a
presumably guilty man.
The direction which these doubts took was cer.
tainly a startling one. He owned this much to
himself, and questioned more than once his own
sanity in thus connecting, however remotely, a
woman of Genevieve's character and position with
the tragic death of a poor working girl. But the
suspicion once entertained, would not vanish at his
bidding; and when he found that the great lady
stooped to lie about so small a matter as the
person who had made her gowns (for he gave no
credit to the whispered assertion she had made in
his superior's ear), he was confident that he was
more sane than he had sometimes feared, and that
the clew he had stumbled upon was worth follow-
ing, even if there was as yet but little sign of light
ahead.
He was influenced, perhaps, in these conclusions
by certain recollections which now recurred to him.
In his interview with Celia previous to the return
of Miss Gretorex to her home, there had been
much talk, trivial talk he had then thought it,
about a girl who brought home her young mistress'
dresses.
“A proud, disdainful person,” this Celia had
declared in her broken English, “who thought her.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
187
self too good to show her face to common people,
for none of us ever saw her without a veil, and she
never spoke. But we tried to make her when we
met her in the hall or on the stairs. She carried a
big box and when I saw it or her, I got so angry I
could only just keep my tongue still and no more.
But Miss Gretorex told me to let her in whenever
she came and not to make trouble with her. So I
was afraid to treat her as she deserved. But if I
knew then that I was to go without notice after
all "--And so on till even the patient detective had
grown weary over what had appeared to be such a
foolish waste of words and time.
But with the kindred remembrance of what the
woman in Mrs. Olney's boarding-house had said
about Mildred Farley's frequent comings and go-
ings with her great box, he did not consider it so
foolish now, and only wished he had probed the
subject deeper at the time. It was not so late yet,
however, but that proper inquiries in the right
these two girls were the same. He had only to
pass a word or two with the complaisant butler at
Mr. Gretorex's house, to learn enough to have the
laugh, to say the least, on his somewhat credulous
superior. To Mr. Gretorex's house he therefore
went, and to Mr. Gretorex's butler he at once
addressed himself.
He found this person quite ready to talk in his
easy, French way.


188
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Zat girl? I-none of ze help know somezing
'bout zat girl, only Mees Gretorex always was at
home when she come. A veil for ze face? Oui, so
zick you no can see if she was black or white. But
she was ver pretty-look good, Sacre! She walk
good-proud like a comtesse. She no look at me.
One time Pierre try, I try to speak wiz her. It was
no good. If she was much deaf she do just so; for
she look not to me, she look not to Pierre."
“You're right, count,” laughed a voice over their
shoulders, “and one of us aint a bad looking man
aither.”
It was Peter, who liked a bit of gossip as well as
his neighbor, and who now came forward smiling.
“I feel ze compliment, M. Pierre, and it is ver
much good for you to say so," retorted the
“Count" with a grandiose bow. “ It is ze opinion
of ze ladies in ze house.”
The butler then winked slyly at Gryce, and satis-
fied that he had effectually discomfited the foot-
man, proceeded to put questions to the detective as
to his reasons for the interest he showed in this girl,
which that functionary had wit and experience
enough to successfully parry.
Peter helped him; for Peter was a rival of the
butler's in more than one field, and in his good.
natured way invariably took part against him in
any controversy, and it was from Peter that Mr.
Gryce finally got the acknowledgment that this
young woman, or lady, as he persisted in calling


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
189
her, usually wore a long, black ulster, and made her
appearance in the evening.
Now this was satisfactory. In the closet of
Mildred Farley at Mrs. Olney's house there was a
long, black ulster, and she, as we know, was accus-
tomed to take her work home evenings.
“But she didn't have the ulster on the last time
she came, oh, no," continued Peter. “I don't know
what it was made the difference, but she looked
foine. O now! well I'm tellin ye I wouldn't have
known her at all, at all, but for her ould brown veil
and little hand-bag. Them wur the same as before
and so was the air of her. Not a word nor the
devil of a look for one of us; but being the night o'
the wedding she got out o' me head, for sure I had
enough else to moind.”
This last admission was a surprise, but Mr. Gryce
was accustomed to surprises, so he kept quite still;
the more so that he saw the butler was about to
speak, and he always preferred to glean his facts
through the questions of other people rather than
his own.
“Zat girl here on Miss Gretorex's wedding night?
I zink you was mistake, Pierre."
“Mistaken is it I am! when these two hands let
her in meself at the back door. It wasn't only here
she was, but it's helpin Miss Gretorex to dress she
was, and devil a minute she had to spare aither,
being just in the nick of time to be of any help at
all, at all, to her. I didn't see her leave though.”


190
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Mr. Gryce felt his interest cool. Reason told
him how improbable it was that this person with all
her mysteries, could have been the run-away bride
of Julius Molesworth. Even if this house had not
been miles distant from the C- Hotel where he
had himself seen her at seven o'clock of that same
night, the great improbability of her flying from
her own nuptials to assist in this very humble
capacity at those of another, was too manifest for
his consideration even. Yet because habit was
strong in him and habit forbade him to leave a
subject till he had exhausted it, he put in a word
which he thought must settle the matter.
“You are an observing man,” he remarked to
Peter, “and seem to have noticed this girl closely.
Was this bag she carried a small, yellow one?"
“It was not, thin,” that person emphatically
replied, while the butler shook his head. “It was
small, that it was, but not a mark of yellow about
it at all. I see it many's the time. It's black it
was."
“ And would you know it if you saw it again ?"
“ I'll not say that, sur; but I could tell if it wur
the same kind of one."
Mr. Gryce smiled and produced from his capa.
cious pocket the bag which had been found by him
in the doctor's phaeton.
“Was it like this one ?” he asked, holding it up
between the two men, with the initals towards
Peter, and the blank side towards the butler.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
191
“No," was the former's reply, and “Oui," that
of the latter.
He whirled the bag about.
“I never have see ze filagree on him like zat!"
now exclaimed the butler.
"By the powers that's it," was, on the contrary,
Peter's response.
Mr. Gryce laughed, and put the bag back in his
pocket.
“ You don't agree,” he said.
“We do that,” returned Peter.
But Mr. Gryce would not be convinced. He saw
that if this was the bag that they had been in the
habit of seeing on the arm of the girl who had
visited Miss Gretorex, that it had always been
carried with the initial-side in, and this again
seemed a great improbability. He was about con-
vinced that he was on a false trail. Disappointed
and dissatisfied, he therefore cut the conversation
short, and in a few minutes was about to leave this
house for the second time in anything but a happy
frame of mind. But this time he did not go out by
the side door. He was in the kitchen, and he natu-
rally sought the kitchen exit. In doing this, his
eyes fell upon the gravel walk that ran about the
house. “Humph!” was his mental ejaculation.
But he saw something the next moment-having
by this time stepped into the yard—which called
from him something more than an exclamation.
This was a small piazza, built one or two steps from


192
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the ground, for the use, as it appeared, of the
servants of the house. It was square in shape and
had a high balustrade about it, terminating in pil.
lars that supported the roof. It was the color of
this balustrade which drew his attention: it was of a
bright and peculiar brown and seemed to have been
lately painted.
“Can it be that I have here found what I have so
long been searching for?” he queried. And step-
ping upon the piazza, he ran his eye along the
balustrade, with the most careful scrutiny. Sud-
denly he paused, looked closer, and gave utterance
to a sound expressive of satisfaction and keen
wonder. From the supporting pillar nearest the
steps a portion of paint had been rubbed, of the
size and shape of the smudge on Mildred Farley's
dress; and dried into the thin coating yet remain-
ing was a woolly fuzz, so evidently blue in color
that even this old and experienced worker amongst
marvels was taken aback, and thought he had never
seen anything finer nor more conclusive.
It was with a very grave face he stepped back
into the kitchen.
“Excuse me," said he, “but what a fine porch
you have outside. I think I will come and visit
you some evening next summer. Fun out there,
eh p"
“Well now, do you hear that," laughed the good.
natured Peter.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
193
“And how prettily it is painted ; looks fresher
than the rest of the house."
“Yis, the master intended using it at the time o'
the wedding—what for I don't know-and it being
well used up by that same fun ye wur axin about,
the count there bought a pot o' paint and wint
over it on his own account. It didn't dry good like,
and the master thanked the count, so he did, but
didn't use the porch. I'm thinkin' he gave the
count foive dollars for disappointin' him do ye
moind?”
And Peter, evidently thinking he had got the
laugh on the butler this time, laughed himself, long
and loud.
But Mr. Gryce did not laugh. A problem dark
with mysteries was before him, and he had no dis-
position to mirth, and but little patience with those
who had.


XV.
TESTS AND SURPRISES.
It was indeed a serious discovery he had made;
how serious he could not yet determine. That the
girl who had brought home Miss Gretorex's dresses,
and who had been with her on the very evening she
was married, was the same one who had been car-
ried dead into Mrs. Olney's parlor at or near mid-
night of that same day, there could be no doubt.
But had she died here? It did not follow, though
the fact that Miss Gretorex, or as she was now
called, Mrs. Cameron, showed such a disposition to
deny any acquaintanceship with the girl, seemed
to argue the existence of something strangely un-
pleasant between them. Yet it need not have been
anything connected with the tragic end of the girl.
Ladies of Mrs. Cameron's stamp are invariably
cowards when it comes to appearing in a police
court, or before a magistrate as a witness. Even
men sometimes shrink from this ordeal, and resort
to every subterfuge to hide the fact that they know
anything about a crime or the party suspected of it.
And she had this excuse, that she was a bride and
194


THE DARKETING CLOUD.
195
naturally hated any such unpleasant publicity in
connection with her marriage.
Yet the desire of Molesworth to communicate his
position to the Camerons ! Was it purely on ac-
count of the medical case he mentioned ? Mr.
Gryce felt himself at liberty to doubt it. And the
scream which had arisen from this house during the
marriage ceremony! Whence did it come and
what did it mean? He had not realized its impor-
tance at the time, but now he felt that he must
make every effort to discover both its source and
occasion. Turning to the two men he remarked in
his off-hand way:
"By the way, I heard something curious about
the wedding here. A friend of mine told me that
there was a big scream heard in the house, right in
the middle of the ceremony. Was that so?”.
“Oui, monsieur," quoth Jean, “zat Marguerite
scream all ze time, and she scream zen."
Peter smiled indulgently.
“Is it Margaret, ye say? Whin will yez git over
talkin' about her screamin' like a fool. Sure she
wasn't in the house at all. Every one of us knows
that, and its time ye did too.”
Jean shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.
“It was ze voice of Marguerite, I know him very
well. I hear him many times, and I hear him zat
time of ze wedding and always ze same."
“ How the devil could she scream if she wasn't
in the house ?"


196
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Do Marguerite say she was not in ze house?”
“No, but don't we know she wasn't! Jim Dolan
says she was in his little back room when the scream
you spake of was heard. Hav'nt I told ye that over
an' over again, ye spalpeen?”
“When Jeem Doling say me zat, zen I must
hear him." And so the obstinate man had the last
word.
Meanwhile Mr. Gryce was smiling on a girl who
had just come into the kitchen.
“And who do you think it was?” he asked.
“I don't know, sir," was the reply, with a half-
fearful look over her shoulder. “Nobody knows.
Some of us suspect it was nothing else than the
If any one should die—"
“Now howld yer whist," broke in Peter. “ Do
yez moind me, it was a woman's scream, and a
woman in a mighty state o' fear. But what there
was to put fear into the heart of any one that night,
it isn't in me power to tell."
And so on for five minutes more, while Mr. Gryce
was asking himself what this scream, say it had
been uttered by Mildred Farley, signified, and
whether it pointed to the minute of her death or
was occasioned by some fatal discovery which led
her to future violence and self-destruction. That it
was more the cry of fear than agony, his own
memory told him ; that death at that time and in
the bride's apartment were facts that could scarcely
have been hidden, and that for her to have taken


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
197
the dose of poison in this house at all, raised the
question of how she could have come some time
later under the protection of Dr. Molesworth
and been carried by him through the streets about
Madison Square to the drug-store and thence to
her home. No, Mildred Farley had not perished
in this house, unless—His very thoughts paused,
his eye had fallen again upon the gravel walk that
ran by that very piazza against the railing of which
she had leaned, living or dead. There had been
gravel under the shoe of Dr. Molesworth's horse.
Was the mystery deeper than he supposed, and had
Dr. Molesworth also been a visitor in this house on
the fatal evening of his intended bride's death? It
began to look as if he had. With the thought,
light began to break upon the horizon and some-
thing of the darkness which had veiled this impen-
etrable mystery to disappear.
And yet how great were the difficulties in the
way of proving this fact. None of the persons he
was talking with had seen any such person as the
doctor amongst the guests, nor had his appear-
ance at the inquest called out any such witness from
the public at large. And then, say he had been here,
how fast he must have driven to have been down at
Twenty-second Street at the time he was. But
then, Mr. Gryce remembered that his horse
looked as if it had travelled far that night, and
when a man has a purpose before him he does not


198
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
spare his animal. But what had his purpose been?
To save Mildred Farley or to destroy her?
Manifestly it was not to save her, or why had he
lied about the place where he had found her and
the way in which the bottle had been broken on
the side-walk in Twenty-second Street. Look at it
whichever way the detective would, reason and ex-
perience still pointed towards the doctor as the pos-
sible author of her death. And so the affair was
still full of mysteries, and he felt as if he had but
crossed the threshold of his discoveries.
His last effort before leaving the kitchen was to
determine the location of the back-stairs. He found
them situated in the most favorable manner for
such a secret and unobserved departure as this
young girl had taken. For, owing to the fact that
they descended immediately into a hall opening
upon the driveway which ran about the house, it
followed that upon such a night as this, when every
one was busy, and the kitchen door communicating
with this hall was in all probability closed or blocked
up with strangers, she might slide down the stairs
and so regain the street without any one noting her
presence or detecting her departure. More than
this, she could, if she so wished, have stepped upon
the piazza, and not knowing its condition, sat down
in one corner to wait—what for? Why-for the
doctor, perhaps. She had written him a note and
why not in that note have told him where he could


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
199
rind her. There was no evidence yet forthcoming
which made any of this impossible.
To determine then without all peradventure
whether Molesworth's phaeton drove up to this
house on that night or not, and then to ascertain
the cause and meaning of Mrs. Cameron's silence
in regard to her connection with this girl, became
his two first leading duties. The immediate man-
ner in which he set about fulfilling them, showed
that his youthful vigor had not yet entirely
deserted him.
Bidding farewell to his friends in the kitchen, he
passed out of the back door and round the house.
The next minute the front door bell rung, and
Jean, the butler, upon opening that door was
astounded at seeing before him the solemn and
unmoved countenance of his late visitor, who, look-
ing at him as if he had never seen him before,
asked if Mrs. Gretorex was in, and being assured
she was by the dumbfounded servant, stepped in
and took his seat in the parlor as if he had never
crossed the threshold of a kitchen in his life.
“He want to see Mrs. Gretorex? Why he want
to see Mrs. Gretorex?” cried Jean, descending the
back stairs three steps at a time.
“Shure I don't know," returned Peter, laying a
sly finger against his nose, “but what I do know is
this, I've business in the front hall and it won't
kape a minute ; so good day to ye.”


200
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
And he was off before Jean's slower wits took in
the situation.
Mr. Gryce was laboring under Mrs. Gretorex's
displeasure and he knew it. His first words, there-
fore, were uttered with that simple dignity which
always inspires respect.
“You have consented to see me," was his open-
ing remark. “You are very kind, for I feel that
you have some reason not only to distrust my
good judgment but the fairness of my conduct.
Yet I but made a mistake which nine men out of
ten would have made in my place. I was going to
say ten men, but I do not wish to appear egotisti-
cal.”
His smile was honest, his bearing respectful yet
not subservient, his tone all that could be desired.
But Mrs. Gretorex's pride was not easily subdued.
She looked at him with cold severity, and observed
in anything but a gracious tone:
“I do not understand to what you allude. I
know of no mistake you made except that of taking
Dr. Cameron into your confidence against my
express wishes."
“Then he has not explained to you the meaning
of our conduct, that night?”
“ I did not require it."
Mr. Gryce allowed a faint expression of surprise
to escape him.
“You could not have known how interesting the
subject was,” he remarked. Then before she could


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
201
speak, asked impressively, “Did you know that
Miss Gretorex had a double in town that night?"
“A double?”
“Some one who looked like her; looked like her
so much that even her best friend was deceived ? I
allude to Dr. Cameron."
The perplexity of Mrs. Gretorex was unmistak-
able.
“I have no idea what you mean,” she declared,
“and I cannot believe in any such likeness. Mrs.
Cameron's expression is not a common one."
“So much the more excuse for me," he sug.
gested. “I thought I was completely justified in
giving to this person the name of your daughter,
especially as she wore a dress not unlike that in
which Miss Gretorex was said to have disappeared.”
Incredulity, mixed with a little anxiety, still held
its own in the expression of Mrs. Gretorex's face.
"Still I do not understand you. Where was this
person, and who did she turn out to be? You
excite my curiosity, Mr. Gryce."
The detective glanced at the doors and slightly
changed his seat.
"Some things are best discussed in private," he
suggested. “I thought I heard a step in the hall.”
She rose and led the way into the library. “Say
what you have to say," she exclaimed. “Who
was the lady? I am eager to hear."
He took a position which enabled him to watch
her face.


202
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Her name you must already know," said he.
“ It has been in the papers enough lately. Mildred
Farley, the girl who died of poison that same
night.”
“Farley?" trembled slowly from her lips.
“ Farley?"
"I thought the name would have a familiar
sound,” he murmured, noting carefully her look of
startled amazement.
But she instantly disclaimed this assumption
with calm composure.
“You mistake," she assured him. “I know
nobody of that name. Why should you think I
did ?"
“Because she visited your house so often, was so
well known to your daughter, and was, if I do not
greatly mistake, in this very building and in Miss
Gretorex's room the evening Miss Gretorex was
married, and she herself met her fearful doom.”
It was all news, and, as it seemed, unwelcome
and astounding news, to the lady before him. She
forgot his presence and her own reserve and spoke
as if he had not been in the room.
“A person by the name of Farley,” she repeated,
“known to Genevieve and like her enough to be
called her double. What does it mean?”.
He watched her, and made no answer; all the
detective was alert in him.
“I believe you said she died,” Mrs. Gretorex
suddenly cried, rousing as if out of a dream. “Is


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
203
it the same girl that was picked up from the side-
walk by somebody and carried away in a gig?”.
“ The same, madam; a young dressmaker, you
remember, who was to have been married that same
night. But she preferred to assist your daughter at
her wedding to taking part in one herself.”
Mrs. Gretorex looked at him with wide open
eyes from which all the haughtiness had fled.
“You seem to know a great deal about Mrs.
Cameron,” she asserted; “more than her mother
does or her best friends. I was not aware that any
one was here to assist my daughter, least of all a
person who bore her looks and answered to the
name of Farley. And yet it was a circumstance
that would not be likely to escape attention. Some
of the servants must have seen her if I did not.
But none of them have spoken of it."
“ They were too accustomed to her visits here."
“ Too accustomed,"
“And then they did not see her face. She was
always veiled."
“Do you mean,” she demanded, “that the per-
son who brought home my daughter's dresses and
whom my daughter received when she would see no
one else, was a Far-was this girl who you say
died on her wedding-night so suddenly and mysteri.
ously?"
“I do. It has not been made public, nor am I
sure that Mrs. Cameron herself knows of this ident.
ity. But certain evidences difficult to explain


204
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
under any other theory, make it a positive fact to
me. It is my reason for being here ; the cause of
our present conversation. I want to discover the
truth about this girl.”
Did Mrs. Gretorex suddenly change color, or was
it only his imagination that made him think so?
She was a dignified worldly-wise woman, whom it
would have taken much to shake out of her social
calm. Was this much hidden in his words and had
it disturbed her equanimity? He could not tell.
“ That is very natural," she conceded, with a
slight change of position. “In your profession
such inquiries become duties; but I do not think
you can find out much about her here."
“Certainly not, if you never met her nor spoke
to her; and I believe you assured me you never
had.”
“ Never, sir."
There was truth in her accents, as well as much
hauteur; he found himself obliged to shift his
ground.
“Then,” said he, “ I have only to bid you good-
day. And yet”-he added, “there is one thing
you can do for me and the cause of law and justice
which I represent. Miss Farley, if here that night,
went directly to your daughter's room. She wore a
brown veil, and if as presumably happened, she
took off that veil, there is reason to believe she left
it behind her. For when the body was brought
home to her boarding-place, this article of apparel


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
205
was not only missing, but another veil of different
color and apparently quite new, was found clinging
to her garments. Now if in the arrangement of the
room after your daughter's departure a brown veil
was found, there is provided one other small link
towards making our chain of evidence complete.”
“A brown veil is a very common affair; my
daughter may have had a dozen for aught I know.”
“Lying loose about the room?"
“How can I tell!”.
“ And you cannot accommodate me?"
“O, I cannot refuse you a look at the room. It
is just as my daughter left it,” she declared some-
what bitterly. “She has not found leisure to at-
tend to it, and I certainly was not going to arrange
and dispose of her effects without her assistance.
But you speak of a chain of evidence. Evidence of
what and evidence against whom? It is surely
not indiscreet for me to inquire."
“Madam, do you know a Dr. Molesworth of this
city?"
"I do not.”
“Are you sure that no such person was invited
to your daughter's wedding?”.
“ Positive."
“ Then if he was here at all, he was here against
your knowledge ?”
“Most certainly.”
“We do not know that he was, but he is the per-
son who professed to pick up Miss Farley from the


206
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
stoop of a house in Twenty-second Street, and as
that story is somewhat incredible, we are trying to
prove he carried her away from this house, where
she certainly was in attendance on Miss Gretorex as
early as nine o'clock in the evening."
“ Then all you wish of us is to prove that attend-
ance?"
He bowed.
“ Why not prove it then in a simpler way? Can
not Mrs. Cameron say whether she had any such
person with her or not ?"
He knew why this was asked. He knew that the
mother's heart was throbbing with anxiety under all
her pride and self-possession, to learn what her
equally proud daughter concealed under her silence
and seeming indifference.
“I have not questioned Mrs. Cameron," he there-
fore said: “but from the fact that she has vol-
unteered no information to the police, I take it for
granted that she does not know the right name and
history of the person she employed.”
“ Your conclusions are doubtless correct,” the
mother allowed. But she looked as if she would
like to be assured of the fact. “And now will you
come up to her room.”
Wondering at her calmness, for he knew that she
had in some way received a blow, he rose and fol.
lowed her up-stairs. As they passed Peter, Mr.
Gryce gave him a faint smile; perhaps in the way


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
207
of remuneration for the disappointment he was con-
scious of having caused him.
I think that I have somewhere said that the room
formerly occupied by Miss Gretorex was in the front
of the house. It was large, and, as Mr. Gryce
perceived upon their entrance, an exceedingly at-
tractive and home-like apartment. But it was all in
disorder at the present time, showing by its very
condition that no foot had entered it since Mrs.
Cameron went out. This circumstance was cer-
which this astute detective at once gave it, an
interest it could not have otherwise possessed.
Even Mrs. Gretorex seemed to catch the infection
of the moment, and peered about in corners and
under the tables as if her life depended upon find-
ing some clew with which to help forward the cause
of justice. He watched her as much as he studied
the room, and only when he perceived that she was
quite satisfied that no stray veil was to be found,
did he point to a pile of clothes that cluttered up a
small alcove at one end of the room, and remark:
“Your daughter seems to have flung her whole
wardrobe here in a heap. These are her clothes, are
they not?”
"Certainly; old ones which she had before she
was married, but too good to be scattered about like
this. I wonder—".
But here a voice thick with emotion broke in with
the words:


208
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“What does this mean? What is this going on
in my room without my knowledge?”
With a quick movement both turned. Mrs.
Cameron, bonneted and wrapped in furs, was stand-
ing before them in the open doorway.


XVI.
MRS. CAMERON AT HER WORST—AND BEST.
For an instant Mrs. Gretorex and the detective,
so dissimilar in all other regards, wore the same
expression of disconcertion, but only for an instant.
She from policy and he from custom, soon assumed
an aspect of self-possession; and Mrs. Gretorex,
speaking in behalf of both, observed, with a non-
chalance that the other secretly admired:
“We were looking for that poor girl's veil. It
seems that it is missing, and that the police imagine
it to have been dropped here."
A mortal pallor spread a ghastly light over Gen.
evieve Cameron's face.
“I am at a loss” she began; but meeting her
mother's eye, quailed, and caught hold of the door
at her side for support.
“I suppose you knew that the young woman who
was in the habit of bringing home your dresses died
on your wedding-night?” that mother inexorably
pursued.
No answer.
“You have not been so absorbed in your new
life, that you have not read this in the papers ?"
200


210
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Genevieve shook her head.
“Why didn't you say something to some one
then? I should have thought you would, Gene-
vieve, if only to preserve us from the surmises and
suspicions of the police. But perhaps you did not
know what a secret you were hiding ; perhaps the
girl had not given you her real name or shown you
her real face?"
“ Her face ? ” repeated Mrs. Cameron under her
breath, her eyes growing large and black in the
stare she fixed upon her mother.
“Yes, they say, all say, that this girl, this Mil-
dred Farley-.Was that the name she gave you?”
Genevieve quivered. Did she nod yes or did that
look of hers mean no.
“Looked so much like you that it was really
remarkable?”
Mrs. Cameron dropped at once into her usual
manner. “Do they say that,” she inquired, loosen-
ing her furs with a steady hand and carelessly
throwing them into a chair near by. “Well, it is
odd!” And turning towards the hall, she cried
almost gayly, “Come in, Walter, I have been caught
in an equivocation and you must help me to rein.
state myself.”
Promptly at this call, the tall form and fine feat-
ures of Dr. Cameron appeared on the threshold.
“ I do not understand you," said he, “but I will
do what I can.” And there he paused, for his eye


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
211
had fallen on Mr. Gryce and he experienced a
vague trouble, that he instinctively sought to hide.
“ It is not much,” explained Genevieve, looking
magnificent in her nonchalant disdain. “I knew
Mildred Farley, and I had several dealings with
her in this house ; but I did not say so and indeed
disclaimed the fact when questioned on the sub-
ject; for—and it may seem a lame excuse to you,
I hate everything connected with law-courts.
Besides she did look astonishingly like me and I
knew that I should be made the victim of much
unpleasantness if I were forced to appear as a wit-
ness before those who knew her. If all this
betrays weakness I stand condemned. I am sure I
am glad to be rid of my secret, for I took no pleas-
ure in keeping it I assure you."
Her ease, her grace, her confidence in her own
charm to make even a worse peccadillo than this
forgotten, would have influenced most any man in
her favor ; but Dr. Cameron was stern in his princi-
ples and hated deceit in small things more perhaps
than he did in great. She saw his altered face and
her head began to droop.
“Can I do anything to remedy my fault ?" she
asked.
Mr. Gryce stepped rapidly forward.
“ You can tell us whether you left her in this
room when you went down to be married.”
The stare which she had fixed on her mother a
few minutes before was nothing to that which she


212
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
bestowed upon the detective at this simple sugges-
tion. It froze Dr. Cameron's blood, for he remem-
bered-ah, with what fatal precision-all the doubts
and terrors of that hour from the moment when
the change had taken place in Genevieve at the
sight of the woman she now acknowledged to be
Mildred Farley, to that instant of relief when she
fainted away on his shoulder in the carriage. But
his emotion, intense as it was, soon disappeared
before the arch smile that presently broke up the
fixity of her stony gaze.
“And do you know all that too?" she asked.
“What clever people you are! I declare I never
imagined the police were such adepts at getting
information. Yes, she was with me that night,
helped me to dress and arrange my veil. I had not
expected her, for she had received her pay when
she brought home the last dress, and I had no
reason to think she would come ;--but her presence
was very welcome for all that, and she assisted me,
as I say, and when the time came for me to go
dowıı, I left her to go home when she got ready.
Was there anything wrong in that ?".
“Certainly not, madam ; we only wish to get at
the facts. And was she there when you returned ?"
"No." Mrs. Cameron lightly shook her head.
“She had disappeared ; I had not expected her to
remain. Walter, where are you going? Wait for
me, do; this gentleman will not keep me much
longer I know.”


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
213
Dr. Cameron, who had withdrawn from the door.
way at this last word of his wife, paused on the
spot where he stood but did not come back into the
room.
“My husband is in a hurry,” she explained to the
detective, “ is there anything more you would like
to ask me about this girl ?”.
“Well, yes, madam, there is,” returned Mr.
Gryce suavely. “In the first place I should like to
know how you became acquainted with her; then,
how far that acquaintanceship went, and lastly
what light you can throw upon her death. All
these things it would be of service to me to hear,
for as you already know, there is suspicion abroad
that she did not meet her death by her own free
will and act, but was helped to it by a certain per-
son whom you also know, or at least have lately
seen.”
“Walter, can you spare me five minutes ?” Mrs.
Cameron inquired, going to the door and looking
smilingly into the hall.
“ Thirty,—if you can explain yourself satisfacto-
rily to this man," was the almost stern reply.
She drew back, grieved, probably, at the tone,
which was short and sharp, and her manner became
graver and her look more anxious.
"I will tell what I know," she murmured. “It
is not much but it may help the detectives a little.
First, then, I became acquainted with Mildred
Farley through her asking me for work. She heard


214
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
- I do not know how—that I was going to be mar.
ried, and she came to me here one day, and asked
if I would not employ her to make my dresses.
I laughed, naturally, for though she was a respect..
able appearing person—I did not know of her
likeness to me then, for she did not lift her veil.-.
her name was wholly unknown to me, and to one
who had had some dim idea of employing Worth,
this proposition of hers seemed ridiculous. But she
begged so hard for me to try her with one dress that I
became interested in her and requested her to re-
move her veil. She did so, but with a hesitation
I was at a loss to understand, till her features being
disclosed I beheld in them as it were a mirror of
my own. Then indeed I became interested in good
faith, and asked her question after question. But
her replies told me little. She was the daughter of
a poor widow who was dying of consumption, and
it was her desire to support that mother. She had
learned the trade of dressmaking, and felt that she
had the talent to make me a costume to my lik-
ing. Would I try her? She would work with all
the more spirit that personally she was a poor im-
itation of myself,—That is the way she put it. I
could not deny her; it would be too much like
denying a favor to myself, so I gave her material and
allowed her to take my measure and was so aston-
ished at the final result, that I let her make all my
dresses ; only stipulating that she should always
come veiled to the house, as the extraordinary


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
215
sikeness between us would otherwise occasion re-
mark. That I kept all this from you, mother, is not
so strange when you consider that the similarity in
appearance which interested me in her favor, would
certainly have prejudiced you against her, your
pride being of an older growth than mine, though
mine is none too lightly rooted either."
The naïve look, the hand half held out, seemed to
arouse Mrs. Gretorex from something like a trance.
Sighing, as if with a great relief, she smiled upon
her daughter, and for the first time since she had
been in the room, looked about for a chair and sat
down. .
“You understand your mother,” she declared, and
smoothed out her dress with an easy return to her
natural manner that impressed the detective pro-
foundly.
“And now how much more have I to tell about
her," proceeded Genevieve, with a thoughtful air.
“ I don't know anything about her death, and—”
“Excuse me, madam,” interrupted Mr. Gryce,
with grave respect, “has not this young girl who
was so evidently the recipient of your kindness,
ever spoken to you of her own troubles or anx-
ieties? Did she never mention Julius Molesworth's
name to you or confide to you the fact that she
contemplated marriage with him ?”
“I don't know what to say to that," returned
Mrs. Cameron, with an appealing look in her hus-
band's direction. “ Help me, Walter. Ought I to


216
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS,
answer these questions when I do not know how
they will affect a person who unfortunately lies
under the shadow of suspicion, but whom I do not
believe to be guilty of any crime?"
“I think you had,” rejoined her husband, taking
a step nearer to her as he spoke. “I have always
found that the truth never harms the innocent. If
Julius Molesworth is guiltless (and I also believe he
is), you can say nothing that will hurt him. Answer
the detective then, frankly. I could not be happy
if I thought my wife kept back anything she knew,
bearing upon so important a matter as this."
His tone was no longer sharp but studiously
gentle. Genevieve seemed to gather courage and
turned to the detective with a gracious air.
“What is it you want to know; whether Mildred
Farley ever spoke to me of Dr. Molesworth? She
did, but guardedly. Shortly after her mother's
death, she told me how lonely she felt and how
dreadful the future looked to her. Then with some
hesitation informed me that she had had an offer
of marriage from the doctor who took care of her
mother, but did not say whether she intended ac-
cepting it or not. I gathered, however, from her
manner that she did, and later I was quite sure of
it, but we did not talk on the subject much, for I
did not know Dr. Molesworth, and was besides
rather selfishly filled with thoughts of my own pros-
pects. A few days before I was married, though,
we did a strange thing. I hardly know how to tell


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
212
it,--for I am sure I shall shock my mother and pos-
sibly my husband. But he has told me to speak
and I will speak. In the course of our interviews
and she came quite often to this house—we became
quite attached. She was not by any means a com-
mon person, and had a spirit and brightness which I
admired. To enjoy her companionship and also to
procure the rest of which I stood in sore need, I
therefore proposed to her that we should take a
vacation together. She was not to tell her friends
and I was not to tell mine, but we were to meet
and go away to some place where we could enjoy
our freedom and each other's society without re-
straint. It was an erratic thing to do, and as I look
at it now it appears undignified if not improper ;
but I was not married then and the dash and ro-
mance of the thing pleased me. We accordingly
carried it out, and for two days or more we boarded
together in a respectable boarding house in Newark
where we passed for nurse and patient, I being the
patient and Mildred the nurse. I wonder at it
now," she murmured—“but we meant no harm and
it was very amusing. Mildred especially seemed
to enjoy herself exceedingly, and when we came to
part as we did on the morning of my wedding-
day, she thanked me with the utmost earnestness
for what she called the merriest days of her life.
I little thought that before twenty-four hours had
passed she would be dead and possibly by her own
hand."


218
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Mrs. Cameron paused; the detective at once
took up the thread.
“You parted, you said ; may I ask where?"
“On the corner of Broad and Franklin streets.
She came back to the city and I went to my
cousin's. He did not tell you I had been there but
a few hours," she said to her mother, with a half
smile.
Mrs. Gretorex's reply was inaudible, but con-
tempt sat on her lip, and Mrs. Cameron did not
look that way again.
“I have ruined my position as the unapproach.
able Miss Gretorex," she murmured, with sly, yet
daring sarcasm, as she turned away. “I cannot
boast again that I have never mingled with infe-
riors; and if I should have to make this escapade
public_” She stopped and cast a side-glance at her
husband, “Indeed! I wish I had never engaged in
it. I do, indeed, if only for your sake and the mor-
tification which must come.”
He waved his hand indifferently.
“That is of small moment now. The question
is, did Mildred Farley take the dose of poison her.
self or was it administered by Julius Molesworth.”
“Yes,” chimed in Mr. Gryce, “that is the ques-
tion. But Mrs. Cameron does not seem to be in a
position to answer it. Unless,” he added, “ she can
tell us with what intentions Miss Farley professed
to leave her.”
“I understood that she was to be married the


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
219
same evening as myself,” that lady immediately
answered.
“ You must have been surprised, then, when you
saw her walk into your room."
“I was more than surprised. I did not know
what to make of it.”
“ And what excuse did she give?".
“Very little. She said she had changed her
mind about being married that night, and had come
to assist me in my preparations. It was a delicate
subject, and I did not put any questions, especially
as she seemed very sober and unhappy. If she had
wished me to know any particulars about herself
she would have told me. As she was silent I took
it for granted that she did not wish to explain her-
self further."
“And she said nothing about death or suicide?
Nothing about not seeing you again or anything of
that kind ?”
Mrs. Cameron stopped to think. “Her whole
manner was that of one greatly troubled. She may
have said good-bye, I think she did ; but I was
excited on my own account and do not perfectly
remember. I can give it as my impression, how-
ever, that she was in a state of suppressed emotion
great enough to lead her into almost any deed of
desperation. I believe she took the poison herself;
but mere belief, I am told, does not go for much
before a jury."
“No," returned Mr. Gryce, “but it may influence


220
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
a detective.” And bowing low to either lady, he
expressed his thanks for their patience, and the
kind way in which they had answered his questions.
He then prepared to leave ; but Mrs. Gretorex
detaining him by an appeal for such consideration
as he could find it in his power to show them,
Genevieve slipped out of the room before him, and
running up to her husband's side, laid her two
hands on his arm and sought to look into his face.
“You are angry with me,” she murmured, “justly
angry. My conduct appears to you light, and my
prevarications unpardonable. I do not wonder,
Walter, I do not wonder; but there was no guile
in my heart, only weakness. I acknowledge it, and
I crave forgiveness. Is it an impossible thing for
you to grant?”
He did not answer. Seizing her by the hands,
he drew her further down the hall, into a recess
which was lighted by a large window of colored
glass.
“Genevieve," he cried, “I am not thinking now
of your prevarications; I am thinking of what you
said to Mr. Gryce when he asked you if you left
Mildred Farley behind you in your room when you
went down to be married. You replied “Yes,' and
yet I distinctly saw you, on that night and at that
time, lock the door behind you when you came out,
and put the key in your bosom. If there was a
woman there whom you did not expect to see when
you returned, why did you do this?"


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
221
“ Because "—she moistened her lips but did not
drop her eyes from his gaze,-" because I did not
know what I was doing. I was terribly excited,
Walter,—I wonder if all brides are when they are
married,—and then I had that pain ; it came upon
me just as I was crossing the threshold,-from the
excitement I suppose,—and what with the one
thing and the other, I was all in a daze, and locked
the door and took the key away. I thought of it
afterwards, but it was too late ; and the mystery to
me then and now, is how she managed to escape in
my absence. There is no other key and no other
door, yet she was gone when I returned, and I
neither know how nor where."
“Do not let that disturb you," said a soft voice
at their side. “It is a matter easily to be ex-
plained." And Mr. Gryce, stepping round the an-
gle of the hall, motioned towards the room from
which they had just come. “If you will step back
with me for a moment I can show you how Miss
Farley managed to escape."
Genevieve's eyes dilated, and for an instant she
seemed to hesitate. Did this man appear to her
like a shadow, and was she beginning to dread his
eye and ear.
“I cannot imagine" she began, but presently
thought better of her objections and hastily followed
her husband, who was only too anxious to have this
mystery explained.
" You say there is no other door,” declared the


222
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
detective, as they reëntered the room from which
they had just come. “ That is true ; but there is
still a way of escape easy enough for a person
who is very anxious to effect one. See there!"
And he pointed towards a window at the end of the
alcove I have before mentioned.
Dr. Cameron advanced. “Ah, I see," he ob-
served. The window opened on to the roof of a
piazza.
“ This room has not been entered since that
night," resumed Mr. Gryce. “Yet this window,
you observe, is unlocked. Now if any of the other
windows opening upon this roof were also unlocked,
it would require only a little climbing for her to
pass into the room adjoining and so by way of the
hall to the back stairs."
“ It is so," assented the doctor.
“We may regard that matter as settled then,"
proceeded Mr. Gryce. “ But what is still to be de-
cided is why this veil of Miss Farley's, which I
hold in my hand, should have been found by me
under the heap of clothing at our feet. If Mrs.
Cameron can explain this as easily as I can the
method of the girl's departure, I shall be much ob-
liged, for I own it seems inexplicable to me."
Dr. Cameron turned and looked at his wife. She
had not followed them into the alcove but stood in
the centre of the main room, with her eyes fixed,
not on him but on the heap of clothing to which
Mr. Gryce had pointed.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
223
“Do you hear, Genevieve ?” he asked. “Mr.
Gryce wants to know if you can account for this
veil of Mildred Farley's being found under this pile
of clothing."
She tore her eyes from the spot where they were
looking and fixed them upon him.
“ How does he know it was Mildred Farley's
veil ? By the color? I had one of that same color
myself. But let me see it ; I can soon tell if it is
mine or not."
She held out her hand. Mr. Gryce left the
alcove and laid the veil in it. She gave it a cursory
glance and tossed it back.
" It is not mine," said she ; "it must be hers.
As for its being found where you say, there is noth-
ing so strange about that. I was dressing and I
wanted an article of clothing. I had difficulty in
finding it, and being nervous and in haste, I tore
down half the dresses in my closet and flung them
on the floor. When Mildred Farley came, she car.
ried them into the alcove to get them out of the
way. Her veil must have dropped off her hat as
she stooped over them."
How simple! Dr. Cameron's head rose in com.
plete relief. Mrs. Gretorex appeared satisfied and
swept from the room; only Mrs. Cameron looked
fatigued, harassed and half indignant. The detec-
tive saw it but allowed himself to put one more
question.


224
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“And was the light-gray veil which was found
on Miss Farley, yours?'
“I do not know. I bought so many things about
that time that I cannot remember what I had. I
only know I found no suitable veil when I came to
put on my hat."
There was no more to be said. Mr. Gryce again
thanked her for her kindness, and politely took his
departure. He had no sooner left the house than
Mrs. Cameron sought her mother.
“I came this morning to look over my things
with you,” she declared. “But this man has so
tired me with his endless questions that I am no
longer fit for it. Won't you take your own time
and just dispose of the things yourself? I am sure
I shall be perfectly satisfied with whatever you de-
cide to do with them. I don't seem to have any
heart for it.” And without waiting for a response,
she took her husband's arm and drew him down the
stairs. “Shall I ever make my peace with you ?"
she murmured.
He smiled a happy smile.
“We are too young to make mountains out of
mole-hills. Since your sins are only those of an
ordinary fashionable woman, I will try and forget
them especially as I have confidence you will never
repeat what you know gives me pain."
She stopped at the foot of the stairs to kiss him.
“O how I love you!” she murmured. “And
how true and devoted a wife I will be if you will


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
225
only let me." And her eyes gleamed and her face
looked as if it had been dipped in dew, so bright
was the change which his kind words made.
As they stepped into their carriage they saw the
portly figure of Mr. Gryce disappearing around the
corner.


XVII.
A SUDDEN RELEASE.
It was evident that Julius Molesworth must go to
prison. If Mildred Farley had been murdered, he
was the man to whom her death was due. If
she had not-but that was a question for the Grand
Jury to determine ; the duty of the police lay in
arresting him. To be sure the case was not as
strong against him as it had been against some
criminals Mr. Gryce had known. But then a case
of poisoning is always more impenetrable than one
in which the knife or pistol has been used; for,
whereas the wound made by knife or bullet usually
tells its own tale and determines either by its direc-
tion or character the all-important question as to
whether or no the death was self-inflicted, poison
keeps its own secrets and only by the surrounding
circumstances can we judge whether the victim
raised the glass to his own lips or had it forced up-
on him by another. But here were circumstances
of a direct and telling nature which pointed to mur-
der; for upon what other theory than a skilfully
premeditated plan to conceal his crime can we ac-
count for the story told by Dr. Molesworth of his
226


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
227
finding the girl in a dying condition on a certain
stoop, when the real facts of the case show that she
perished in his phaeton and that the bottle was
flung out and broken on the sidewalk merely to give
color to the statement he intended to make. Only
a coward of the basest stamp or a man conscious of
being subject to the law, would resort to such a lie
and such an action; and Dr. Molesworth had no ap-
pearance of being a coward. On the contrary he
had every sign of being a deep-thinking, strong-
acting and self-reliant man. To prison therefore he
must go, and without further delay; the explana-
tions given by the only other person who was known
to talk with Mildred that night, merely served to
show the necessity of it.
This conclusion reached, action immediately
followed. Mr. Gryce was sent to complete the
arrest, and by two o'clock in the afternoon he and
the doctor made their appearance at police head-
quarters on their way to the magistrate. But here
a delay occurred. For no sooner had Mr. Gryce
stepped through the door-way than a man grasped
him by the arm and an eager voice whispered in his
ear:
“I've got her. She's here. It's been a hard
chase, for she is frightened about something, and
tried to keep out of the way. But I found her at
last and it only remains for you to make her talk."
Mr. Gryce's pale cheek took on a little color.
Peering hastily about, his glance fell on the


228
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
shrinking form of a young woman pressed up
against the wall near by.
“ That is all right,” he declared. And turning to
Dr. Molesworth, he informed him that he would
have to give him up to other hands for a few min-
utes as he had some important business to transact.
Then he disappeared with the girl into the inspec-
tor's office.
He was gone some time and when he came back
the girl was not with him. But the inspector was
and it was he who stepped up to the doctor, and
informed him that the suspicions against him
had been proved unfounded and that he was at
liberty to depart.


XVIII.
IN THE HOSPITAL.
DR. CAMERON's office offered a great contrast to
that of Dr. Molesworth. Instead of gloom there
was cheer; instead of bareness there was a tasteful
display of rich furniture and valuable works of art.
Yet the man sitting there possessed as strong a soul,
and held as firm a grip on his profession as his less
self-indulgent and less prosperous rival. His pros-
pects of success were brighter too, for not only had
he every advantage of wealth and station to assist
him, but he had also that genius for plunging at a
glance to the bottom of things, which Molesworth
lacked ; the latter being forced to earn every step
of his way by the severest study and the most
intense mental effort.
Dr. Cameron was meditațing upon all this that
same night, as he waited for his wife whom he was
expecting home from an entertainment where he
had been obliged to leave her in order to attend to
an urgent case. He was meditating upon it and
thinking of her, for she mingled with all his
thoughts now, as the perfume of a flower we have
fastened in our breast mingles with each breath
that we take. She was so fair, so tender, so
229


230
: BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
baffling. There was such love in her look, such
haunting music in her voice. He did not know
that a woman's glance and tone could affect him so.
He had been surprised into iove ; and she who had
performed this miracle was his own wife, the
woman he was bound to love, cherish and sustain
unto the end !
The entertainment from which he was expecting
her was a reception, and it was time for her to be
home. He had not gone after her for fear of pass-
ing her on the road. He was listening, then, with
all a lover's anxiety for the sound of wheels, when
his eye suddenly fell on the clock. It was a quarter
to twelve, and she ought to have been in the house
at eleven.
Surprised, and alarmed even, he rang the bell and
asked the sleepy servant who attended him whether
Mrs. Cameron had come home.
“O yes, sir," was the unexpected reply. “She
returned before you did.”
Relieved, he put out the lights and hurried up-
stairs. She was not in her boudoir, nor was she in
the bed-room beyond.
He rang the bell again.
“ But Mrs. Cameron is not here!” said he to the
servant.
“ Then she must be up-stairs, sir, in the little
room. She does often sit there when she is alone."
Dr. Cameron remembered this fact now and dis-
missed the man. It was not the first time he had


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
231
been told that same thing; but he could never
understand it and did not now, for the room
alluded to was small and well-nigh unfurnished, and
he could see no good reason for her secluding her-
self in such an unwelcome spot, when she had her
own luxurious apartments at her command. Did
she wish to get away from him? It could not be.
Was the light better up there? The supposition
was absurd. What was this mystery then? He
had an impulse to go up at once and see, but he
did not. He was either too proud or too consider-
ate; he preferred to wait a few minutes longer,
sitting in her solitary boudoir.
“ When the clock strikes twelve," thought he, “ I
will go for her. Till then let me read her books."
And he took up a dainty volume which had been
amongst her wedding-presents, and set himself to
peruse one of its choicest poems. He had reached
some very tender lines when he suddenly experi-
enced a thrill and looked up. Was it a spirit who
stood before him ? No; no spirit ever had a face
filled with such human emotion, so sad, so wistful,
and yet so bright with tenderness and resolve. It
was Genevieve, but Genevieve in a mood he could
not fathom. Clad in a soft woollen garment of the
purest white, without any adornment to relieve its
sweeping lines, she stood in the door-way and looked
at him till he was seized by a feeling of the uncanny,
and rising, held out his arms as if he knew that
would break the spell.


232
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
And it did. With a swift and gliding step she
crossed the room and stood before him. How deep
were her eyes! how pallid her cheek; how solemn
her whole air and manner.
“Walter,” she inurmured, before he could speak,
“I displeased you to-day, or rather I showed my-
self to be less of a woman than you expected.
This has broken my heart; I cannot live, feeling
that you have no confidence in my word and pos-
sibly not in my act. I would rather die at once
and leave all this happiness, for it will not be happi.
ness if I must look in your face constantly to see if
you believe what I say and have faith in me and a
continuing love. And so, Walter, I have come to
you at this solemn hour, fresh from my prayers, and
as I hope from my repentance, to say that I have
told my last lie, petty or large. Whatever comes—"
She paused and a spasm passed over her face—“I
will speak nothing but the truth hereafter, and this
I swear, not by the Bible but by the dearest thing to
me in life, my husband's love." And reaching up
her two hands, she laid them on the broad white
brow that bended over her, with a look which gave
a weight to her words which made them sink deep
into his heart.
“Genevieve!” he cried, drawing down her hands
in his and pressing them to his heart.
“Do not speak just yet,” she pleaded. “Let me
feel you hold me to your heart in perfect confi-
dence."


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
233
Wondering at an emotion so deep as to be almost
appalling, he drew her to his breast and held her so
without a word. Her eyes closed and a look of
perfect peace settled for an instant over her
features. Then she withdrew herself, and clasping
her two hands tightly together, questioned him with.
her eyes as much as to say,
“What do you want of me? Ask what you will
and I will tell the truth.”
But he, with a happy laugh, caught her passion-
ately in his arms, saying:
“ Now that I have my jewel without a flaw, let
me enjoy the moment to its full; for now for the
first time in my life, I am a perfectly happy man.”
This took place at midnight. The next morning
Mrs. Cameron asked her husband if he had any
patients on the East Side. He answered that he
had a few but that he mainly rode over there to
visit Dr. Molesworth's patient at the hospital.
“Who is doing well?" she inquired.
“Who is doing very well.”
“ Would you mind,”—she spoke timidly—“ if I
sometimes went with you when you go to visit the
poor? I should like being with you and I should
like to see the people you help."
“You would ?" A new light visited his face. It
had been a dream of his to have a wife who would
take an interest in his work.
“You shall go with me this very day," said he,
and hurried her up-stairs to get ready.


234
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
They drove to the hospital first. Entering the
ward where Bridget Halloran lay, the woman whose
case had been transferrrd to Dr. Cameron by Moles-
worth, they passed down through the two lines of
cots, where Genevieve at a glance, beheld more suf.
fering than she had ever seen before in her life, and
came out into that part of the room devoted to the
use of this special patient. As they did so, Dr.
Cameron paused and so did Genevieve, for seated
beside the poor woman was a man whose back
turned towards them, roused in both a strange feel-
ing of surprise and bewilderment.
“Is it—"she whispered. But here the gentle-
man rose and turned. There was no longer reason
for hesitation or doubt. The face and form were
those of Dr. Molesworth.
Dr. Cameron stepped briskly forward.
“ This is an unexpected pleasure,” said he : “ How
long—" But here he discreetly paused, and gave his
sentence another turn, “have you been able to be
out."
“Since yesterday," was the brief reply. Here he
bowed to Mrs. Cameron. “You take interest in
our patient,” he remarked.
“This is my first visit,” she replied. “I hope
you are satisfied with her condition.”
Julius Molesworth let his grave gaze rest on the
fair face of his interlocutor for a moment. Then he
shook his head, and answered:
“ The case is mysterious, and I do not altogether


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
235
understand its secret workings, but I hope all will
go well. My greatest anxiety is that no mistake is
made behind my back.—I do not allude to you,
doctor, you know that, but to the women. I shall
however pursue undeviatingly the line I have
marked out and I hope Dr. Cameron still agrees
with me that it is a wise one."
He looked at his coadjutor as he spoke, and that
gentleman at once bowed.
“She is doing well,” he remarked. “I do not see
how you can expect anything more.”
Dr. Molesworth smiled, and waved his hand
towards the patient.
“ Have your little talk with her,” he suggested ;
“the good woman misses it. She says you do so set
her up with your bright looks.” And he stepped aside
to another cot where he remained for a few minutes
while Dr. Cameron and his wife talked to Bridget.
But the moment they turned to go, he was back
again, and holding out his hand to Mrs. Cameron,
observed, “There are limitations to all our self-
sacrifices; though Dr. Cameron has done so well in
my absence, I cannot say that I am sorry to be at
liberty again to take care of my own patients."
"No—yes" she murmured, looking down at
his hand with a sudden and violent change of color.
"1–1–” She turned away and laid her hand on her
husband's arm. “Do you wish to stay any
longer?" she asked. “It seems to me we ought
to be going."


236
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
There was confusion in her tone while her man-
ner to the doctor had certainly savored of rudeness,
but Dr. Molesworth seemed neither to notice the
one nor the other.
"I am in no hurry," said he, “to lose the doctor's
company, especially as I have another case here
which I am sure it will interest him to see.” And
he looked at Dr. Cameron who at once cried : .
“I am on hand for any thing of that kind.”
“Come then,” cried the other ; “but first excuse
me while I take off my cuffs, I can do nothing at a
bed-side with them on.".
And while the two waited, this strange man pulled
off his cuffs and put them in the pocket of his
over-coat, after which operation his brow looked
lighter and he passed with them up the hall, chat-
ting quite genially.
Genevieve felt sick at heart. This business was
not as pleasant in reality as in anticipation, but
she kept by their side, thankful that she was not
expected to say anything. On their return, she
again expressed a wish to leave and this time no
demur was made. But just as they turned to go, a
startled cry made them look back.
It was from Dr. Molesworth, and the word he had
uttered, was,
“ Lost !”
“What is lost?"
It was Dr. Cameron who spoke ; his wife seemed
incapable of uttering a word.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
237
Dr. Molesworth laughed. “Excuse me,” said he,
“I did not mean to be so tragic ; but in our short
absence my cuffs have been taken out of my over-
coat pocket, and though the loss is not great it is
certainly annoying."
“I know who did it," cried a voice near them.
“ It was that slim small man who came in after."
But Dr. Cameron did not keep his wife waiting
any longer to hear these simple explanations: the
affair seemed altogether too puerile.
Would he have thought any more seriously of it
had he known that written on the inside of one of
those cuffs,—the one which had been on the hand
which Dr. Molesworth had extended to Genevieve,
-were written in large characters these words:
“ Beware! I was not released so suddenly without
a motive."


XIX.
HUSBAND AND WIFE.
It must not be supposed that the sudden and
remarkable change which had taken place in Mrs.
Cameron's physical appearance had passed un-
noticed or uncommented upon by society. It was
only too widely discussed, and while it formed the
basis of innumerable compliments, it also awakened
an equal number of surmises and questionable re-
marks.
“ They say that Marie Antoinette's hair changed
in a night," it was not uncommon to hear. “But
then there was a reason for that !” was almost in-
variably added. And the curiosity and interest
which were thus aroused in both the male and
female bosom, surrounded the youthful bride with
such a halo of romance, that the mass of people
forgot to criticise her and only asked to admire.
But there were some (there always are some) who
could not see the rose for the thorns, or the star
for the mist of their own breath blowing across it.
From these, one could hear now and then sharp
comments upon the pride which made Mrs. Cameron
forget the courtesy due to her old friends, and
238


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
239
strictures upon her manners which had grown both
freer and more liable to sudden reserves than of old.
But such derogatory remarks were uttered mainly
in asides and only now and then did they come to
the ears of her they most concerned. But that they
did come sometimes was evident from the half-
shrinking, half-disdainful look she now and then
cast behind her in a throng; and it was from ex-
periences like these, perhaps, came the distaste
which she now began to manifest for the great
crowds and sumptuous entertainments in which she
had at first delighted. Were they to blame also
for the increasing pallor of her cheek, and the gen-
eral decadence of her health which Dr. Cameron
could not but notice ? He at first thought so ; but
as days passed and her spirits lessened rather
than revived in seclusion, he began to watch her
more closely, fearing to detect under her languor and
growing melancholy the traces of disease yet more
serious than the rheumatism of which she still now
and then complained.
But his watchfulness and care only seemed to ag-
gravate her trouble. She shrank when she found
his eye upon her, and often at some petty shock,
like the ringing of the door-bell or the sound of an
unexpected voice over her shoulder, she gave
such nervous starts that he became seriously
alarmed and commenced to doctor her in good
earnest.
It was evening. They had just returned from


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
241
Her husband's eyes followed hers and glistened
merrily.
"An imposing figure,” he smiled. “Did you
think you would ever be a famous beauty,
Genevieve?”
She rose up with an instantaneous impulse, and
coming to his side, knelt down at his feet.
“Am I pretty,” she asked, “to you?”.
“No," he returned, “you are not pretty, you are
beautiful, and just a little awe-inspiring. I love
you, and I wonder at you ; you are so different—"
She did not wait for him to finish.
“You love me," she murmured. “How much
do you love me, Walter ? Enough to care more
for me than for my beauty ? Would your heart
still glow and your arms still embrace me, if instead
of pleasing your eye I only appealed to your sym-
pathies and your affections? Do not say yes,
carelessly, Walter, for I am in earnest and rely upon
your word. How deep have I sunk into your
heart? Past the first boundary or not, Walter.
Speak! I am strong enough to hear.”
Affected deeply, for her look was even more ear-
nest than her words, he drew her to his side, and
answered gravely:
“You are my wife ; you are the woman I have
chosen and would choose again out of all I have
ever seen, for my own. I love your beauty-how
can I help it !—and I love what gives that beauty
life. Had I to choose, were it given me to have
16


242
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
this lovely form, these brilliant eyes, this whole har-
monious and speaking figure, with a cold and treach.
erous soul within it; or to have your heart, your
intellect and your nature in a faded or marred body,
I should take_”.
“ Which?"
Her eyes were burning, her lips were parted: she
was breathless.
“Your heart and nature ; I know I should, and 1
rejoice in it. You have charmed me, Genevieve; I
cannot resist your spell nor do I try any longer to
do so. Were these features all overcast, there
would still be your personality left; a personality
which I do not understand, but which holds me and
interests me more than any amount of grace or
beauty could do.”
“ Then I am an enigma, only an enigma to you.
When I am solved—”
“Will you ever be solved, Genevieve?”.
She did not look as if she would. The depth of
her regard, which was always remarkable, never
struck him more forcibly than at this moment, while
the smile that just touched and sweetened the cor-
ners of her lips, possessed a melancholy for which
he could find little reason, save in the strength and
fervor of her fully aroused feelings.
“I think the day will come," she remarked,
“when you will no longer wonder at me. Will it
be also true that you will no longer love me?”
She did not seem to expect a reply, and he did


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
243
not give any. He felt sure of himself, but why re.
peat asseverations that were as old as love. He
merely smiled at her and waited for the new ques-
tion that hovered on her lips. It seemed to be a
serious one, more serious than any which had gone
before. It looked as if she dreaded to put it. He
encouraged her with a kiss on the hand that lay in
his.
“I see; you want to know what I am going to
ask next,” she pursued. “Well, I may be a foolish
woman, but I have a fancy to probe your heart to
the bottom. Would you love me,” she dropped
her eyes from his face—“ if you found that I had
kept something back from you which I ought to
have told ; that—that I had ever been in love be-
fore, or-or thought I was; that I was not just
what you imagined me to be when you married me,
and that—that I had a secret in my life, as many
women have, which, while it argues nothing wrong
in my heart, still lends to my hours many regrets,
and to my thoughts a shadow which all the present
brightness cannot quite charm away?”.
“Genevieve!” His face had changed ; his lips
took a hard line. “ Have you any such secret in
your life? Did you ever love another man?".
She looked up, met his eye and quaked. “Do
you demand to know?” she asked.
His brows contracted; he thought of the promise
she had given him to always tell him the truth, and
hesitated. What if she said yes; would it increase


244
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
their happiness? They were married; she loved
him now, and any such raking up of old by-gones
was certainly unwise as it was unpleasant. Besides
who could expect to have the first love of a Gen-
evieve Gretorex. A woman who has counted her
suitors by scores might be pardoned for having
yielded one jot of her pent up womanly emotions in
return. He would not press his question; he found
he loved her too well.
“ I demand nothing," was his reply. “The past
is past; and we no longer have anything to do with
it. As long as youş heart is all mine now—and I
am sure it is—what is it to me that you once smiled
for a week or a month upon some one else. I
would dare wager that no one but myself ever
touched these lips."
Her smile flashed out bright and dazzling. “No
one ever did," said she, and at that word and at that
smile, his brow cleared and he almost laughed.
“ Most every life has had some harmless flirtations
in it," he remarked. “I adored a girl myself, once
--for a fortnight; but that does not make me
unhappy now. On the contrary I think it adds a
little to my satisfaction. The value of true gold is
more apparent after some slight handling of dross.”
She drooped her head ; there was a far away look
in her eyes; she did not seem to hear what he said.
"I wish I could see you really cheerful again,"
he ventured. “You are not ill enough to look so
sad.”


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
245
Brought back to realities, she moved a little fur-
ther from him, while a reckless gleam shot from
her eyes.
“ I have read," she began, slowly, and as if pursu-
ing her own train of thought, “ that love is all pow-
erful with some men. That no ambition is con-
sidered too dear, no hope too precious to stand in
the way of their passion. Is there truth in such
tales ? Is there a man among your acquaintance,
for instance, who would be willing to sacrifice any
really good thing he possessed, for the sake of an
unfortunate woman who was dependent upon him
for happiness ? "
“I hope-," he commenced.
But she stopped him with an imperious gesture.
“Do you know of one man,” she asked, “who
would share disgrace with a woman cheerfully ?"
“ Disgrace is a hard word,” he asserted, “and
cheerfully does not readily go with it.”
“Yet women know how to join the two," said she,
“when it comes to forsaking all for the man they
love."
“I know; but women who love are angels, while
men are never more than human under any cir-
cumstances.”
She did not answer his smile ; she was pale, and
looked as if an icy breath had passed over her.
“ Is reputation so dear to you men?" she de.
manded. “Are your souls bound up in appearing
well before the world ?”


246
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Genevieve,” said he, “these are curious ques-
tions; I do not understand why you put them, nor
will I ask. But since you are in this humor I will
acknowledge that the keenest agony that can be in-
flicted on a proud man is to rob him of his honor-
able position amongst men. He may suffer acutely
from other losses; his heart may be wrung and his
existence embittered ; but if his career is left him
he can still work and in his work forget his woe, for
a portion of the day at least. But take away from
him the respect of men and he has no career, no
life. He is but the shadow of a man, a hapless,
blighted wretch whose true place is underground,
and not amongst the men and women whom he
cannot look honestly in the face."
“But--"
“I am thinking of an extreme case. Perhaps
you did not mean positive disgrace. Such does not
come often to a man from a woman; it is more apt
to come to a woman from a man.”
“ Yet there have been instances,” she ventured.
“Yes," he concurred, “there have been in-
stances.”
A short silence followed these words. Both
seemed oppressed by an incommunicable sense of
danger in the air.
“I do not know which to pity the most," she
murmured at last ; “ the man who has lost so much
by a woman or the woman who has caused the man


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
247
she loves to lose so much. I think her pain must
be the keener.”
He shook his head.
“A woman who could commit a disgraceful act
would not be apt to be hyper-sensitive about its
effect upon her husband.”
“I do not know. There are acts which do
not seem disgraceful at the time, yet which may
lead to shame. Were a woman to commit such,
and were it that woman's fortune to be married—”
“One must pity her husband," he interposed.
She looked up, met his gaze and drew herself
back into her old place by his side.
“You spoke of an extreme case just now," she
softly whispered. “Let us put it at its extrem-
est. Say that I had done an act which if known
would brand me with infamy; that you became
aware of it and also knew that the heart which
prompted it was not bad, only untutored and im-
petuous ; would your love be so slight that it would
give way under the revelation, or would it hold firm,
and, though changed, remain to solace and encour-
age one who-who-never realized—” Her voice
sank to an unintelligible murmur, her eyes which
were fixed on his turned glassy, for his brow had
grown threatening and his regard stern.
“Genevieve," he cried, “these are not the ques-
tions of an excited fancy. There is meaning back
of all this. What meaning? Is there disgrace lurk-
ing in the air for us? Have you done anything—"


248
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
But here her laugh broke out merrily and shrill.
A transformation seemed to be worked in her which
made his words sound incongruous and absurd.
He stopped in his turn and looked at her in a sort
of cloudy amazement. She rose and made him a
mocking little courtesy; then she suddenly grew
grave.
“Forgive me,” she entreated. “I had a notion
to test the extent of your love. I- I think there is
yet opportunity for it to deepen and broaden. But
perhaps I do not understand men. I have never
cared to study them until now. I did not know my
happiness would hang upon your regard. Your re.
gard,” she repeated, “not the world's, Walter."
Fondly he surveyed her. There was music in
her words; there was truth in the passion that in.
formed them. So should a woman love, and such
a woman most of all. He could have kissed the
hem of her robe as she sat there, but he contented
himself with a look.
“I am afraid,” she softly resumed, “ that I have
had many false notions. Kept to a petty round of
thoughts and feelings, I have seen too little of real
human life to realize all that there is in it. The
outside glitter of things is all that I have hitherto
noted. I forgot to look beneath the surface for the
real thing. I took no account of such simple mat-
ters as a man's pride in his own career, a woman's
yearning after the perfect trust and respect of her
husband. I was a child, or, worse, I was a soul


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
249
asleep, and only now am I really awake, and realize
what is required of a woman when she loves and is
loved. But I know now and am at once happy and
miserable, triumphant and overwhelmed. Am I
raving, Walter ? I have kept so much pent up in my
heart that I may go too far in my relief at speaking.
Do you mind my talking so freely? Shall I stop
and be proper again-and melancholy ?"
“Do not be melancholy," he began--
But there seemed little danger of this. She was
all smiles and her dimples came and went with
every breath. “Kiss me!” she suddenly cried,
lifting up a face so bewitching in its mixture of
appeal and audacity, that he could scarcely be
blamed for forgetting all that had gone before, in
his satisfaction at the present.
“That antidote I am willing to administer ad
infinitum,” he smiled; “only you must promise
me-".
“Not to ask any more questions?" she finished.
"I will and if trouble comes—"
She stopped with a start. The door-bell had
rung.
The doctor woke as from a dream.
“ Visitors or patients ?” he queried.
It evidently was the latter; for just then the
front door was opened, and a gentleman came in,
followed by a decently dressed woman, who no
sooner found herself in the luxurious hall than she
seemed to shrink together and almost cower past


250
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the doors she had to pass on her way to the office.
The doctor wondering at this, moved to follow.
But before doing so, he gave his wife one other
look and found her so smiling and so radiant, that
he did not speak but passed on with lifted brow
and a totally satisfied air. As for her she pre-
served her smile without seeming effort till the
curtain had fallen across the door-way leading into
the office. But once left entirely alone, she sank
back in the seat she had occupied and for one
wild moment seemed to give way to a despair that
was none the less deep that it was silent. But she
speedily controlled even this token of weakness,
and rising, looked again at herself in the glass, and
adjuring the enchanting figure that confronted her,
said:
“If you are beautiful, use that beauty to pre-
serve your happiness. It can be done, and the in-
centive given you is great enough for anything.
His peace of mind rests upon your success. Be
successful, then, at all hazards save that of un-
truth."
She was still glowing with the excitement of the
moment, when the doctor's returning step was
heard falling heavily on the carpet. Turning, her
ardent color faded rapidly away. The gentleman
who accompanied Dr. Cameron was Mr. Gryce.


XX.
ON THE RACK.
HER husband's first action did not tend to reas.
sure her. While the detective was making his bow,
Dr. Cameron had advanced to the bell, rung it, and
informed the servant who came that he was not at
home to any one, visitors or patients. After which,
he had closed all the doors and drawn all the
curtains. Not till these precautions were taken did
he turn to his wife and observe in what he meant
to be his natural tone:
“I am informed by Mr. Gryce that some strange
facts have come to light in the case of the girl
whose name has so often been mentioned in our
hearing lately. As they seem to be such as you
alone can explain, I have asked him to address him-
self to you, as I am confident you can have but one
desire, and that is to help forward the cause of jus-
tice to the full extent of your ability."
The bow she gave her husband in acquiescence
to this suggestion was admirably free from embar-
rassment. But when she turned to the detective a
slight flush was observable on her cheek, which he
was not slow in interpreting as a mingled appeal
?1


252
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
and apology. It seemed to make it a little difficult
for him to speak. She saw this and drew her figure
up to its full height..
“I have awakened your distrust," said she, " by
asserting for truth what you have since found to be
false. I acknowledge that I was led into this error
by motives which would probably seem trivial to
you, but it is an error I do not propose to maintain,
and if you have any questions to ask, I will try and
answer them with as much truth as if I had never
stooped to a prevarication in my life.”
“I can demand no more," was the detective's
reply. But there was a formality in the assurance
that showed it to be that of politeness rather than
of conviction. Genevieve began to smell the
smoke of a coming conflict and called up all her
resources.
“ What are the new facts ::” she inquired.
Mr. Gryce had seen fine women before, and seen
them placed in positions fully as painful as this;
but he thought he had never seen one meet it with
greater grace and dignity. He was so impressed he
showed it, at which a dimple became visible in
Genevieve's cheek and she abated just a trifle of her
haughty reserve.
“ First allow me one question," said he. “ You
told me at my last interview that when you went
down-stairs to be married, you left Mildred Farley
behind you in your room. Was she well at that


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
253
time and in good physical condition? It is an
important fact for us to know.”
Whatever Genevieve had expected she had not
expected this. It required a re-adjustment of her
ideas and it took a moment to do this.
“ You do not wish to answer?” said he.
“I was wondering what your question imported,"
was her slow reply.
Struck by these words he paused. Was this
woman, noble and unapproachable as she seemed,
implicated in this matter? Was he doing an unfair
thing in making her talk? A glance at her face
reassured him. There was no lurking devil there,
only perplexity and that unreasonable dread he was
accustomed to detect in women when subjected to
anything like a police investigation. He decided
to come to the point at once.
“Before urging this question," said he, “let me
impress upon you that I am here not on an errand
of accusation but of search. I want to know if
Miss Farley committed suicide or was murdered.
Whichever way she died, the deed took place in
your room, Mrs. Cameron, and while you were down-
stairs being married.”
It was a startling thing for her to hear, and her
hand went to her heart in sudden agitation.
Though the movement was a natural one and the
agitation pardonable, she seemed instantly to re-
gret this display of feeling. Why? Both her hus-
band and the detective mentally asked this question,


254
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Surely no woman could be expected to hear such
a statement and remain unmoved.
“How do you know that ? ” she asked, with a
tone of incredulity in her voice; “ because a scream
was heard at the time?"
“Not exactly ; if you will excuse me a minute,
I will show you how I came to know it.” And Mr.
Gryce, stepping quickly across the floor, raised the
curtain that communicated with the office and
beckoned towards him the woman who had come
with him to the house.
Genevieve watched him as if fascinated, forgetting
even to bestow a look upon her husband, though
she must have felt that the surprise and suspense
into which she had been plunged, must have seized
upon him too and with even superior force. “What
is this man about to do?” her glance seemed to in-
quire. “What woman is this he is going to
bring forward ?” Nor did her expression alter when
the girl crossed the threshold and she saw her face
to face. All was wonderment with her as yet, and
intense question. The detective noted this and
made haste to remark :
“You know this girl.”
Genevieve at once assumed her most disdainful
air.
“What is she doing here?” she inquired.
“1-I don't know,” came in a confused stammer
from the woman's own lips. “This gentlemans tell
me to come, and say you will be good to me. I


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
255
know, ma'am, you did not like me. I didn't want to
tell anything to anybody. But what I see, I see,
and the gentlemans ask me more and more and then
I tell him everything."
“What is she talking about ? " cried Genevieve,
dropping her air of wonder and assuming that of
cold severity. “Let her speak plainer if she has
anything to say. I do not understand these al-
lusions."
The detective looked at the woman.
“Tell your story," he commanded, with a quick
gesture.
Whereupon the woman glanced round her a little
sheepishly.
“I am sure I didn't think what it would come all
to,” she began, lifting her eyes for a moment to
Genevieve's face and instantly dropping them.
“ It's wrong I know, but I was always looking in
through key-holes and listening. Most of all i
wanted to find out about the girl you let come so
often to your room when you let nobody else come.
I wanted to know so much that I used to stay longer
in the room than you wanted me to, just to see if
she would take off her veil. And when you caught
me that time looking over your shoulder, I was
only trying to find out if you was writing to this
girl. It didn't seem right, but none of it was
right. She was a dressmaker, and ladies like you
don't put up with dressmakers' girls, keeping them
in their room all alone for hours. I can't tell why I


256
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
did what I did. I only want to say how it was
I came back after you send me away, ma'am, just to
see if you was married all right, and if that girl
was let come into your room at the last, as she was
all along."
“ All of which means," the detective here dryly
interposed, “that she was in the house unknown to
any one but the servants, on the evening, and at the
time you were married.”
“Ah!” Genevieve's cold, curling lip seemed to
say.
"She did come, ma'am, that you know, and when
I saw her go up, I got so mad I sat down on the
back-stairs and cried. Then I got awful mad—”
Celia was not looking at her old mistress or she
might have found it difficult to proceed,"and
when I heard you all go down I just ran up to see
if she was left to look over the rail, at the people
below, because I didn't see why you wouldn't let
her do that when you have done so much for her
before."
“You mean," again broke in Mr. Gryce's cool
voice, “that you thought it a good opportunity to
steal a sight of her face.”
A red flush answered him. “I thought so but I
didn't see it, for she wasn't in the hall ; and then I
wondered what she could be doing shut up in that
big room when she could be seeing all the people
down-stairs. Then I feel I must go in. You see
I tell the truth, ma'am, for all you'll not like me


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
257
again any more. And when I found the door locked
I couldn't think of anything but how to see into that
room and what that girl was doing all by herself.
So I went to the room next by yours. I got out of
the window on to the roof and tried to look into the
window what is in the alcove-".
“Why do you stop? "
Was it Genevieve speaking ? Even her husband
did not know her voice.
As Celia had only stopped for breath, she looked
at the lady with eyes of wonder; then went on as
If no interruption had occurred.
“For I saw from the street that your shade was
a little up, so that I could look in. When I tried
to look I could not see the girl, and I got mad and
then because the window was not locked, I pushed
it up and looked in and couldn't see her yet and I
couldn't hear her too. Then I got in the window
and walked in the room. She wasn't there."
Celia paused. Did she realize that she had
reached a dramatic climax? I think not. She was
only feeling a little uncomfortable; for Mrs.
Cameron's eyes were fairly burning now upon her
face and in a way the most callous of mortals must
have felt.
“Not there," she repeated, shifting her gaze and
looking somewhat uncomfortable. “And I was so
much afraid I felt faint-like and ran to get out of
the room. But the door was locked. Then I went
to the alcove window, and there I got an awful
en


258
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
fright- awful. For right there by me on the
floor where a lot of dresses lay, there was a hand
sticking out, and it was white and cold and-Oh!"
She gave a little scream and turned pale at the
recollection, while Mrs. Cameron half rose to her
feet and then sat down, inert and stricken, finding
it difficult for a moment to breathe, such terror
seemed to pass over her at the picture and circum-
stance thus presented to her.
Her husband who had been siezed with a shud.
der too, walked straight up to the detective.
“ This is an incredible tale,” cried he; “ have you
reason to believe it a true one ? "
“Let us hear it out," was the calm response.
“ Afterwards we will talk." And he motioned to
the woman to finish her story.
“I hear that some people say that an awful,
dreadful scream was heard when the wedding was
down-stairs. It must have been a dreadful scream.
I was alone with that dead hand pointing at me. I
was so much afraid that I got stiff and I did not
know what I must do. All I think then was that I
must go away and say nothing to somebody about
the hand. For I know I had no right in your room
and if I got into trouble nobody in the house would
help me out. But I was awful afraid because I got
to step over that body if I got out of the window.
When I was again in the hall I was fainting right
by your door. But I didn't. I went down-stairs,
got out of the house and nobody saw me. And I


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
259
ran all the way home and didn't say a word for a
long time. And how that gentleman ſound out
that I have seen the dead woman in your room-"
“That will do," quietly put in the detective.
“ You have heard this girl's story," he now
declared, turning to Mrs. Cameron with a polite
bow. Are there any questions you would like to
ask her?"
The great lady stirred, looked as if she had
awakened from some terrible nightmare and mur.
mured "No."
“ She can be dismissed then?'
“Yes."
Mr. Gryce bowed again, and addressed himself to
the doctor.
“Will you be good enough to see that she is
suitably disposed of while we have a few more
words on the subject ?”
It was courteously said, but the doctor, and his
wife too, flushed with suppressed indignation, for it
was apparent from these words that he did not feel
sufficient confide:ice in them to leave them alone
together while he crossed the room. But sharp as
were the feelings thus aroused they did not inter-
fere with the doctor's complying with his visitor's
request; and Celia was conducted across the room
and shut up in the doctor's office with as much
care and deliberation as if there was no tumult in
his soul and not a nerve of his proud nature had
been disturbed,


260
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
In the interval not a word was uttered, not a
look interchanged between the lady and the detec-
tive. But the moment Dr. Cameron returned, a
sudden change took place in Mrs. Cameron, and
rising, she confronted Mr. Gryce with a frank and
grateful air that lent quite a new aspect to her ever-
changing countenance.
“You are very kind," she declared, in a grateful
tone that was in itself a shock to both her hearers.
“ Knowing this frightful tale ; seeing as you must
have done that, if true, Mildred Farley did not die
after I went down-stairs, but before, you have come
here in confidence and without scandal to hear
what I have to say about the matter and give me
an opportunity to explain myself. I shall never
forget this consideration, sir ; and as proof of my
gratitude I will at once tell you what I can about
this poor unfortunate's death, hoping that you will
see the matter as I did, and understand in a meas-
ure at least how I was driven by my fears to keep
back my knowledge of this frightful secret, even
from my mother and husband, till it was torn from
me shred by shred as you have seen. And now
for the truth. This girl whose death you consider
such a mystery, committed suicide. She com-
mitted it in my presence just a few minutes before
I went down-stairs to be married. It was a terrible
shock and a great surprise to me. I had been
dressing, and was thinking of anything else than
tragedies or death. Nor do I think she meant to


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
261
die then or there. But she was desperate. She
had had a talk with her intended husband and had
been disappointed in him. She did not want to
see him again, and the contrast between the hopes
expressed by my bridal attire and the dreariness of
her own outlook maddened her I supposed; for in
a moment as it were, she seized upon that bottle o!
poison and turned it up to her lips, and the deed
was done and she was dead before I had got over
the terror which held me breathless and immov-
able at her side. I was in my bridal dress and
veil, sir. The ceremony had already been delayed
and I was momentarily expecting the summons to
descend. Should I mar the happiness of the whole
company by revealing what had occurred? I
thought not, in the moment I had to consider. So
I just drew the poor girl into the alcove, and in
grief and terror enough, God knows, covered her
over with some dresses I had before pulled down
from the closet and thrown on the floor. I had
barely done this and readjusted my veil when the
knock came and I had to descend..
“It was frightful, but I did not know how fright-
ful till I came to think. Then I almost gave way
to my terror and agitation, and when that scream
came down from up-stairs—"
She stopped. They did not wonder; at such a
horrible experience who would not shudder!
Her husband for the first time realized all she had
been through, and reached out his hand in syın.
They did id not shuddaji she has


262
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
pathy, though there was yet much to be explained
before he could feel reconciled to a past so full of
mysteries and shadows.
“ And how ?" asked the detective, with nothing
but formal respect on his part,“ was the body dis-
posed of? When next we hear of it, it was in the
keeping of a Dr. Molesworth, who, as we have been
informed, was not one of your wedding-guests."
Mrs. Cameron did not flinch. She looked if any.
thing more winning and candid than before.
“ Dr. Molesworth was the man who had expected
to marry her. He had gone to the hotel for that
purpose and had not found her; so he came where
he suspected her to be. He was not one of my
guests, but that did not keep him from the house.
He came in at the front door and stood in the hall,
and I happened to see him and immediately knew
what he was after. So I rose and went out-I was
then receiving congratulations—and accosting him
without delay, told him that the person he wanted
was in my room and bade him go up-stairs and I
would follow. For I not only saw that he was in a
state of feeling that bordered on frenzy, but I also
saw that if the matter was to be hushed up and the
body got out of the house without disturbance, he
was the man to do it; and I relied on him and went
up after him and explained what had occurred and
showed him the dead body of his bride, and asked
for help and got it. I don't know that I should call
it help now," she added, in a low voice; “for it


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
263
id noth: Oked as ; eights
might have been better for me if I had called in the
whole house to see that dead girl, and so escaped
the days and weeks of deceit that have pressed upon
me like so many mountain weights of lead."
Her husband looked as if he concurred with her,
but he said nothing, and Mr. Gryce asked another
question.
“You read the account of the proceedings before
the coroner, which was printed in the papers ?".
She acknowledged that she had.
“You must have seen then that Dr. Molesworth
testified to having found the girl on a stoop in
Twenty-second Street."
“Yes, sir. It was agreed between us that he
should tell some such story as that. It seemed
wisest to us at the time. Since she had killed her-
self it would not hurt her and it would relieve me
from endless complication, to have it thought she
had committed the deed in the street. So we
thought then; with how little judgment let this
moment itself testify."
The detective fixed his eyes upon her and opened
his lips to put another question. But he evidently
found it too difficult to say what was in his mind
and turned it into the simple suggestion, “You
· must have known Dr. Molesworth well, Mrs. Cam-
eron ?"
A fush, hot and vivid, answered him from the
doctor's face, but her cheek did not alter and it was
with much composure she replied:


264
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“I had learned much of his disposition from my
conversations with the woman he expected to
marry. As for his face, I had seen him at Mrs.
Olney's where I have been more than once. I had
even had some talk with him. It was the situation
which made us like friends at once.”
“I understand," asserted Mr. Gryce, but his
looks did not bear out his words. “Your conduct
is not so inexplicable,” he went on; “women think
much of appearances and are not apt to weigh the
consequences of their impulsive efforts to preserve
them. But a man usually halts long before he
enters into a scheme that must end in perjury; and
Dr. Molesworth committed perjury, Mrs.. Cameron.”
She dropped her chin upon her breast and the
presence of a growing dread began to show itself in
her face.
“Not only that," the detective continued. “He
engaged to do a fearful thing when he promised you
to get a dead body out of the house alone and with-
out discovery. Have you thought how much nerve
and determination it would require? What self-
sacrificing devotion it would need to lead a man not
only to take the risk of such an act but to subject
himself to the horrors of it? I find it difficult to
reconcile what I have seen of Dr. Molesworth with
such devotion to a lady so little known to him. I
would sooner think--" He paused; she looked at
him breathlessly—“that he had his own reasons for
keeping the matter quiet,” he pointedly added.


THE DARKENING CLOUD. .
265
“ Perhaps he had,” she simply replied. “I can.
not tell all that passed in his mind. I can only tell
you what we did.”
“ And you repeat that it was through his agency
this dead girl was got out of your room and
house?"
“Yes, sir."
“ Alone ?"
“Yes, sir."
“ And when?"
“That I do not know. It was after I left."
“What, you went away before she was removed
from the house ?"
“Yes, sir. Having made up my mind to trust
the whole affair to him, I only thought of escape
for myself. Then it could never have been man.
aged if I had not cleared the back stairs by having
my trunk carried out. It was down those he
intended to go."
“And did he ?"
“I cannot tell, I only know he succeeded in his
undertaking. How or under what difficulties, he
must himself inform you. I have never had an
opportunity to ask him.”
“ And do you think he will tell me?"
“No," she returned boldly; “not while he
doubts whether I have spoken of the matter or not.
He has too chivalrous ideas of duty."
“ What, when his life is at stake ?"
“ His life!”


266
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.:
“He was on the point of being arrested for mur.
der when this testimony of Celia's came in."
“I suspected it, or rather I knew that he was
under the surveillance of the police, for he told us
so in an interview he had with the doctor about a
case of his."
“And you were going to allow him to go to
prison upon a charge you knew perfectly un-
founded "
" Mr. Gryce, I was but two weeks married. I
knew that my husband hated deceit and I lacked
the courage to acknowledge that I had become
entangled in it. Then I trusted to Dr. Molesworth
discovering a way out of his difficulty, and was
so sure that he would, I never even thought of his
being in any danger of his life. It is also only fair
to myself to say, that had he been brought to trial,
I should have relentlessly sacrificed myself. It was
my hope that he would not, which kept me silent
so long.”
She was pleading her cause well and yet her
shadowed brow and paling lip showed she was con-
scious that it was a failing one, and that the doom
she had so long dreaded was rushing upon her.
“I accept your explanations," quoth the detec.
tive, “and it only remains at present for you to
inform us where Miss Farley got the drug with
which she poisoned herself.”
“I cannot tell you that," came in fainter tones
from Mrs. Cameron's lips.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
267
“Was it from her bag, her pocket, or the folds of
her dress, that she took the phial which held it?”
Genevieve miserably shook her head.
Mr. Gryce looked troubled ; he hesitated a little,
then suggested kindly, “You saw her carry it to
her lips?"
Genevieve faintly acquiesced.
“And did not see where she took it from ? "
“I cannot answer."
Dr. Cameron strode one step and stood beside
his wife.
“Why cannot you answer?” he asked, gently.
“Because" she felt for a chair and sat down.
“ Because you will not believe what I say."
“ I will not believe what you say?".
She turned her eyes, which had been fixed upon
vacancy, on his face. There was unfathomable love
in them, but there was unfathomable despair also.
“I think you would," said she, “and yet it is
very incredible."
“The true things are often the incredible," ob-
served he.
She smiled but in a hopeless sort of way and in
an altered tone, murmured:
“ Very well, then, she got it out of a box."
“ A box she carried ?".
*No; one she found in the room."
Dr. Cameron stared; so did the detective. Gen.
evieve sat and shivered silently.


268
BEHIND CLOSED VOORS.
"Took a phial containing prussic-acid from a box
she found in the room?”
“Yes."
“And how came prussic-acid to be in your room,
Mrs. Cameron?"
It was a question for which she seemingly had no
reply. Though she opened her lips, no words
issued from them, and she sat the image of shame
and despair. The doctor, struck aghast, started
impetuously forward, and would have spoken him-
self but that the detective forestalled him.
“ You do not think I have the right to ask that
question," he remarked. “Well, I withdraw it and
will simply inquire what sort of box it was which
held this phial, and where in the room it was kept ?"
This time the answer came but in quivering
tones that were almost inaudible.
“The box was a jewel-casket and it was kept in
the top drawer of the bureau.”
If surprised, Mr. Gryce did not show it.
“I see," he remarked ; "and being a receptacle
for valuables it was doubtless locked and the
bureau drawer also.”
"I don't know, I don't remember about the
bureau drawer ; but the box was locked. I recol.
lect seeing her turn the key."
It was a fatal admission and at once stamped her
whole story as improbable. She saw it when it
was too late, and turning to a ghastly white before


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
269
their eyes, swayed so that her husband forgot to
press the question still trembling on his lips.
The detective was not so merciful.
“I beg your pardon," said he," but this fact you
mention is so remarkable when you consider that
the person thus accused by you of opening your
drawers and ransacking its treasures before your
eyes was at the most a humble dressmaker, that I
cannot refrain from asking what excuse she gave
you for such presumptuous conduct."
Making one final effort Mrs. Cameron hastily re.
plied. “She gave no excuse. It was all done so
quickly, she neither thought of speaking nor I of
questioning ?”
“But her knowledge of things! How came
she-"
But here the doctor seeing from his wife's con-
dition that he must speak at once or not at all, hur.
riedly interposed with the ejaculation :
“Genevieve, Genevieve, answer me this. Was
it the bottle of prussic-acid I had given you for—".
It was useless to continue. A great spot of vivid
red had broken out on either of her cheeks and she
seemed neither to hear nor notice.
“I am ill, Walter, I am ill!” came from her lips
in a broken murmur ; and next moment she had
fallen in a heap at his feet.


XXI.
DR. CAMERON ANNOUNCES HIS DETERMINATION.
A DAY passed ; a solemn day to Dr. Cameron
who in it saw his wife brought very near to the
verge of the grave. She was still so ill that they
walked with hushed steps and bated breath through
the house, but the worst was over and Dr. Cameron
felt that he could leave her long enough to keep an
appointment he had made with Mr. Gryce. For,
mingled with all the anxiety of the last twenty-four
hours was the uncertainty called out by her last ad-
mission; and he felt that this must be set at rest
as soon as possible. He knew it could be. He not
only remembered perfectly well the circumstances
under which he gave Genevieve this powerful medi.
cine, but he also remembered a certain peculiarity
of the phial which held it. To be sure the phial
found by Mr. Gryce was broken ; but for all that he
was confident he would know if it were his, if that
portion which held the stopper was still intact. For
there had been a nick in its rim, the very shape of
which he recollected, and if that nick were still there
he would need no label to identify the bottle. The
label had once had the word POISON on it and the
most minute directions for taking the requisite
270


THE DARKENING CLOUD,
271
quantity. But the label had been rubbed off of the
one broken in Twenty-second Street, probably for
the sake of severing any clew it might furnish ; the
phial having come from his own office and the
words on the label having been written by his own
hand.
Mr. Gryce was prepared to receive him. He had
a great respect for Dr. Cameron and at present a
profound pity. A noble husband and an incompre.
hensible wife. That is the way he put it to himself
at present. In the future he might be obliged to
put it stronger. His greeting therefore was cordial
but very grave. Dr. Cameron noticed this and
came at once to the point.
“ Have you those pieces of broken glass here
which are supposed to represent the phial out of
which Mildred Farley drank the poison that killed
her?"
“We have. Do you want to see them ?"
“I should like to; that is if you consider it of any
moment to know whether it is the same bottle of
acid I gave my wife before we were married.”
“I certainly do. I should consider that we had
got hold of a most important fact if we could'estab-
lish an identity between the bottles.”
“ Very well, then, look at the pieces you have
preserved and see if you can find the neck of the
phial amongst them ; then look on that neck for a
nick about the size of a pin's head and if you find
it
"


272
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
:
Is that it ? "
“Yes," assented the other, simply.
“ It is a serious discovery,” observed the detec.
tive,“ very serious."
If he had meant to alarm Dr. Cameron he cer
tainly succeeded.
“How, serious?" repeated that gentleman. “It
is important as all links are, and valuable as estab.
lishing the truth of my wife's testimony, but seri.
ous ? -"
Why did the detective remain silent? Did he
own a thought or a suspicion he was fain to con-
ceal? Dr. Cameron felt his heart stand stili.
Could it be they did not believe his wife? that he
had roused rather than allayed whatever doubts
they cherished ? He leaned forward and forced the
detective to look at him.
“I am an unhappy man,” he declared. “I have
a wife whose testimony you doubt and that wife is
laid up with almost a mortal sickness. What shall
I do to prove my trust in her word ? It is absolute
I assure you: so absolute that if ten persons told
me they saw her give the poison to Mildred Farley
and she told me that Mildred Farley took it out of
her jewel-casket or any other mysterious place, I
would believe my wife and not them, and this with-
out doubt or hesitation."
Mr. Gryce's eyes fell, and he nodded thoughtfully
to himself. It was evidently hard for him to con.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
273
tinue a conversation that must inflict such bitter
humiliation upon a man he regarded so favorably.
“You speak of your wife's testimony,” he re.
marked at last. “ Can you venture upon a guess
as to when she will be in condition to take up this
subject again ?"
" It will be weeks," was the grave response. “I
pray God it may not be months. But for any facts
about her health and the possibility of getting lucid
and reliable answers from her to any questions you
might put, I must refer you to Dr. Weston. I
have called him in in consultation, and upon his
unprejudiced judgment I beg you to rely. I wish
too strongly that the subject might never be re-
opened, for me to be the adviser you want."
Mr. Gryce looked more and more embarrassed.
“If I can make it accord with my duty to leave
you and your sick wife in peace, be sure I will do
it. Nothing would give me greater pleasure; for
you have my unbounded esteem and sympathy.".
But he did not look as if his duty and wishes agreed
and Dr. Cameron lost heart more and more.
“You think,” he remarked, “ that there is some-
thing fatal in the identification of this bottle with
the one I gave to Miss Gretorex months ago.”
“I think,” slowly observed Mr. Gryce, “ that it is
a great pity that Mrs. Cameron did not preserve
her strength long enough to explain how this poor.
sewing-girl, albeit her constant visitor, had the pre-
sumption, as well as a sufficient knowledge of the
18


274
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
interior of her bureau drawers, to seize with such
an instantaneous touch upon the one thing that
would do the deadly business she desired.”
Ah! so that was the point that troubled him. It
was a mercy to know it. Dr. Cameron cast a
glance of gratitude at the speaker, which the old
man probably saw though he gave no token of it.
“My wife may not have been able to explain it,"
the former now ventured, with an appearance of
ease he was far from feeling. “She herself spoke
of the fact as incredible."
s I know," the detective's bow seemed to say.
“ Have you talked to Molesworth? Has he been
told that Mrs. Cameron has contradicted his version
of the affair and acknowledged that the girl died
before ever he came to the house ?".
“ That is something we are not ready to confide
to you, Dr. Cameron. Till your wife is able to
make clear to us one or two further mysteries con-
cerning this affair, we must look upon her as a pos-
sible witness,”-he did not say suspected person
“and this being the case, we are not at liberty to
take her husband into our confidence.”
" Then," rejoined Dr. Cameron, glowing, “her
husband will take you into his confidence. Mr.
Gryce, I love my wife. How deeply and how en-
tirely I never knew till I saw the shadow of death
creeping over her. I must therefore save her, for I
see that incalculable suffering, if not irreparable dis-
grace, lies before her if I cannot make it apparent in


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
275
some way that the story she told you of Mildred
Farley's unhappy end is absolutely true. What
will do it? for I am sure something can and some.
thing will. Tell me, then, what will it take to sat-
isfy you of her innocence. For though you do not
say it, I see that you think she was the one who
took the phial from her jewel-casket."
“ Dr. Cameron,” was the quick reply, “the
strongest proof of your wife's innocence, as you
yourself phrase it, is the lack of any apparent mo-
tive on her part to wish ill to the girl. Make that
apparent lack an undoubted one and we must be-
lieve her story, preposterous and unnatural as it
seems. In other words, unravel the whole secret of
their connection. Prove that Mildred Farley had
cause sufficient for desiring death and make the
conduct of Julius Molesworth seem in accord with
the spirit and good judgment of the man."
“I will do it," came from Dr. Cameron's white
lips. “I can learn nothing that will give me the
pain which your suspicion has done."
“And if in doing this you come across others
working in the same field ?".
"I can but acknowledge their superior right
there. I am but working from love, you from
official duty. I have neither the facilities nor per.
haps the courage to vie with you." And with a
bow of formal politeness he took a hurried leave.


XXII.
THE MYSTERIOUS ROLL.
DR. CAMERON may have been rash in the making
of these promises, but once having made them he
meant to keep them. The sight of his wife's pale
face, staring blankly from the almost unruffled pil-
low where it lay, would have strengthened his deter-
mination even if it had weakened. It brought back
so many memories which made her unresponsive
glance almost unendurable to bear. If he could
but see it beam again with pleasure! If at the
first dawn of intelligence in that blank eye, he
might lean over her and whisper, “ Joy, joy, my dar-
ling! All that troubled you is vanished and gone
into nothing. Not a soul in the world has anything
against you. Awake to peace and hope and love !"
That would be a moment worth living for. For this
he would strive while she lay here in unconscious-
ness.
But between hope and fulfilment, there is a great
gulf. As he withdrew from her side and sat dowr.
in her boudoir to think, he asked himself if he pos-
sessed any secret knowledge likely to lead to an
elucidation of the problem he had set himself. He
276 .


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
277
thought he did. There was a fact that had once
attracted his attention and then been forgotten
again till this new danger threatening Genevieve
had roused all his faculties and awakened all his
memories. It was this. At the moment, now some
weeks gone by, when Mr. Gryce and himself stood
peering through the curtain at the hotel, he had
noticed lying on the table at which Mildred Farley
had been writing, a pile of manuscript, or rather a
number of closely written sheets of paper, tied into
a small roll. It had not seemed important at the
time and he had not given it a second thought.
But now, in recalling it, the realization came with
great force that those sheets might have been
letters; and that letters held and cherished by her
at such an hour, must contain facts relative to her
love and life that it would be of inestimable value
to him now to learn. Where was that roll? It had
not been found in her bag or mention would have
been made of it at the inquest. Had it been de-
stroyed, or was it still in existence? It was cer-
tainly his first duty to inquire.
But of whom? Mr. Gryce? That would not do.
Though Dr. Cameron felt every confidence in the
detective's integrity, it had become his ambition to
refute that detective's suspicions, and how could he
hope to do so if he gave away the one clew which
he imagined he possessed to a different conclusion
from that which present circumstances forced upon
the police? That he could always fall back upon


278
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the detective's knowledge was his excuse for at-
tempting to take the first steps without it. Be.
sides, Mr. Gryce might not know any more about
the matter than he.
The packet might have been removed from the
table before that gentleman took his place at the
curtain, and if so, the probabilities were that he
did not even know of its existence.
“Let me see," quoth Dr. Cameron to himself,
“ if I can transfer myself back into that alcove-room
and into the presence of that despairing girl.” And
he dropped his head forward on his hands, shutting
out to the best of his ability all sight and conscious-
ness of surrounding objects. " It was a picture not
soon to be forgotten. Let me see if I can recall
it.” And he bent his mind upon that departed
scene and soon beheld rising before him in distinct
detail, the large, stiffly-furnished room, with its one
occupant kneeling on the lonely hearth, watching
with tearless but most miserable gaze, the burning
of a single sheet of paper. “ A single sheet," he re-
peated to himself, “ like the roll but not part of it.
For that was tied up with a tiny blue ribbon and
lay apart and by itself on a table some few feet
away. Had she been burning the roll the circum-
stances would surely have been different. She
would have held it in her hand or the ribbon would
at least have been untied and the sheets laid ready
to her reach. No, the paper she burned was a
draft of the note she afterwards left for Dr. Moles.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
279
worth, and though the recollection was a dim one
he felt quite certain he had also observed a folded
paper lying beside the rolled ones. Of the ink bottle
and pen he retained a decided impression; and he
even remembered how the pen lay half on and half
off the table, as if it had rolled thus far and
stopped.
But the roll, the roll! What had she done with
it? Burned it afterwards? There was no proof of
this. There had been plenty of testimony as to the
finding of the one charred bit of paper he had seen
blazing on the hearth, but none as to the discovery
of the much greater quantity which the destruction
of the roll would have occasioned. How then had
she disposed of it ? He tried to put himself in Mil.
dred Farley's place and see; tried to realize what
she would do if these letters were what he imagined
them to be, tokens of affection from the man she
no longer desired to marry. She would not leave
them behind her to be returned to him by careless
and possibly inquisitive hands. They were too
sacred for that, possibly too precious. Since she
had not had the courage to return him these
compromising sheets at the moment he had
displeased her, she would take them with her and
keep them till time and opportunity came for dis-
posing of them with propriety. She had accord-
ingly put them into her bag; and since from a nice
calculation of time and distance he had already
satisfied himself that she must have gone without


280
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
any delay up-town, he concluded that she had carried
them into Mrs. Gretorex's house. But had they
gone out with her? That it was not so easy to
determine; for let alone the possible interference of
Mr. Gryce, the purpose and determination of Dr.
Molesworth showed him perfectly capable of open-
ing her bag and taking out these papers either be-
fore leaving the house or during that hideous ride
he took with her dead body. But if he had not
meddled with them and Mr. Gryce was ignorant of
the fact of their existence, where in Mrs. Gretorex's
house would he find them? Why in Genevieve's
room of course. And where in Genevieve's
room?
As he asked himself this question, he raised his
head and unconsciously glanced about. As he did
so his eyes fell on a certain chintz-covered sofa that
filled one corner of the apartment in which he sat:
and remembering that it was the one article which
Genevieve had requested to have brought over from
her old home, he rose hurriedly and approached it.
It was old, it was ugly, it was uncomfortable; he
had never seen her lie or even sit on it, and yet she
had not been easy till it was brought into the house
and established in this bijou room, where each and
every object surrounding it, was a work of the
highest art and greatest expense. There must be a
reason for this interest in so incongruous an article.
Could it be-He did not complete his thought but.
rapidly stooped and ran his hand around the seat.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
281
He stopped suddenly. He had touched something
smooth and firm and round. It was a roll of paper
and the moment he drew it out he recognized it for
the one he was in search of, by the looks of the
writing upon it and the small thread of blue ribbon
that surrounded it.
It was one of those cases where perverse or illogi-
cal reasoning still brings one directly to a definite
issue. There had been a dozen contingencies
against the hope that he would find that roll still in
existence and in a spot available to him, yet they
had all gone for nothing, and the one line of argu-
ment he had allowed himself to pursue had brought
him straight to the object he was seeking. It does
not happen often, but it happened in this case and
he accepted the result with gratitude.
But before pursuing the matter further; before
even undoing the roll he held in his hand, he went
in to look at his wife again, for he was not easy
long away from her side, and though the minutes
had been few since he had seen her, an occurrence
of such importance had taken place that it seemed
as if hours instead of minutes had elapsed.
He found her lying just the same, only her hand
had found its way outside the coverlid, where it lay,
white and still as moulded wax. He felt an infinite
tenderness as he saw it, and stooping, imprinted a
kiss upon it with a sensation of tears that was new
in the life of this hitherto free and self-reliant
nature. Had she seen his look and felt that kiss


282
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
would the shadows have lain so thick upon her
eyes, and the mist of her unconsciousness been su
heavy?
When he returned, he closed the doors between,
and took up the roll. About to pierce the secrets
of another soul, he had a moment of recoil. But an
instant memory of his purpose gave him the hardi-
hood he required, and tearing off the simple blue
ribbon that held the sheets together, he smoothed
them out before him, and took his first glance.
Great heaven! this was no man's writing; nor was
it such as he would expect from the woman he be-
lieved Mildred Farley to be. It was—He stopped
with a gasp, looked around him to see that he had
not lost control of his reason, then glanced back.
The effect upon him was the same. If it was not
his own wife's writing, it was so like it. Jumping
up, he procured the two or three notes she had
written him before they were married and compared
them with the lines lying before him. The chirog-
raphy was identical. The words he was destined to
read were Genevieve's! written to whom, and for
what? This was the secret it had now become his
duty to unravel.


XXIII.
GLIMPSES OF A BURIED HISTORY.
MEANWHILE Mr. Gryce was engaged upon quite
a different search. Convinced by Mrs. Cameron's
evasions and by the ravaging effects of his examina-
tion upon her, that a murder and not a suicide had
taken place in Genevieve Gretorex's room, he found
it had become his duty to discover what motive
this petted child of fortune could have had for
desiring the death of so humble a person as her
dressmaker, as it had become that of the doctor to
establish the sufficiency of Mildred Farley's own
despair for the tragedy which terminated her exist-
ence.
He went, therefore, to work upon this matter
with his usual vigor and precision, his method of
procedure having one point in similarity with that
of Dr. Cameron. This was that it started with a
fact of which he had spoken to no one, and which
dated back to the moment when Mrs. Gretorex
first heard from his lips that her daughter had been
interested in a person by the name of Farley.
That name—he was sure of it—had awakened
memories in the elder woman's breast which were
283


284
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
connected with some secret she sought to hide and
which it disturbed her to think had been discov.
ered by her daughter. Whatever that secret was,
whether of honor or dishonor, happiness or unhap-
piness, it was evidently one that he ought to make
his own; for upon these old family secrets, present
crimes often hang like the final link upon the end
of a rusty chain.
That it was not one of ordinary relationship he
had already made sure. For, incited by the remark-
able likeness between these girls, he had probed
into the connections of the Gretorex family and so
satisfied himself that there were no Farleys among
its poor relations. That there was nevertheless
some connection between them, acknowledged or
unacknowledged, his instincts and the whole bear-
ing of Mrs. Gretorex on that memorable day relent.
lessly told him ; and to determine what this was
and to set these girls before the world in their true
relations to each other, seemed to him the first step
towards a correct understanding of the tragedy
which had occurred.
In laying his plan of action, the first conclusion
he came to was that it was useless to question Mrs.
Gretorex. She was armed at all points and dis-
trusted him as an inquisitor. Unless he could
make it seem to her advantage or that of her
daughter, to talk, she would simply present a pol-
ished surface to all his darts of inquiry and thus
lead him to reveal his own purposes without elicit.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
285
ing a particle of truth from her. To other sources
of knowledge than this, he must therefore turn, and
the first person he thought of was Mr. Gretorex.
This gentleman, of whom we have seen but little,
was socially considered the husband of Mrs. Gret-
orex. But amongst men he was an acknowledged
power, and in business circles a leader and a dema-
gogue. It was he who had made the enormous
means which gave them rank with the most influen-
tial families in town, and it was owing to his good
sense that their fine position had never suffered
eclipse during all the vicissitudes of the last twenty
years. To him, then, Mr. Gryce decided to address
himself, and the time he took was the morning of
the day immediately following his interview with
Dr. Cameron.
He found the great railroad-man in his office and
he introduced himself simply for what he was, a
detective from the police force. Then he at once
opened his business by saying:
“You may have heard of me, Mr. Gretorex. I
was at your house the evening your daughter was
married, and I have been there since. My object--"
He waited a moment; but polite amazement was
all that the countenance of Mr. Gretorex expressed.
“My object,” resumed Mr. Gryce, “ to learn what I
could concerning the Miss Farley which your
daughter had been so liberally patronizing."
Mr. Gretorex's look of polite astonishment gave
way to one of equally polite inquiry. “Miss Far.


286
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
ley," he repeated, and there paused. The name
seemed to awaken no emotion in him.
“Yes, the girl who was poisoned a few weeks
ago; you surely have heard your wife speak of
her?"
The busy man shook his head and glanced at the
papers on his desk
“I have not much time,” he remarked, “for
trivialities. If Mrs. Gretorex knows anything about
this person, she is the one to go to. I am in pos-
session of no information on the subject.”
“I am glad to hear this," quoth the detective
boldly, “ for I was afraid this Mildred Farley was in
some way connected with your family."
Mr. Gretorex stopped the restless drumming of
his fingers on the table and stared with honest
amazement at the unmoved detective.
“It is a name I never heard before,” he observed,
dryly, and turned to his papers again.
Mr. Gryce knew men-he never boasted that he
knew women-and in this man he saw abundant
vitality, purpose, and ambition, but no duplicity.
He therefore rose and with suitable excuses bowed
himself out, convinced that whatever secret lay con-
cealed beneath the emotion of Mrs. Gretorex at the
mention of the name of Farley, it was not one in
which her husband had any share.
Disappointed but not discouraged, he asked him-
self what clew he should follow next, and the an-
swer came, that since the thread had broken in his


288
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
his use by the accommodating landlady, he set
about perusing them with all the care and circum-
spection of which he was capable.
They were from various persons, most of them
women, and it was not long before he discovered
that those signed with the name of Annie showed
the most familiarity with the widow's affairs, as well
as expressed the most affectionate interest in her.
To these therefore he paid the most heed, and was
soon rewarded for his efforts by gaining a very good
idea of Mrs. Farley's early life and circumstances.
They were such as are very apt to follow a run-
away match such as hers had evidently been ; six
months of extreme joy, followed by sickness, want,
and growing neglect on the part of him who led her
into this trouble. A few months later and the sick-
ness had increased and the poverty deepened; then
some blow, dreadful but keen, called out the hur-
ried line, “O, my poor darling, bear up till I come ;
you shall not endure this fearful grief alone!” after
which there was a lapse of letter writing on the part
of this person for months, and when it was taken
up again, the frequent expressions of sympathy for
her correspondent's widowhood, showed what this
grief had probably been ; though there were other
and less comprehensible allusions to some great sac-
rifice she had made, which threw an air of mystery
over this portion of the correspondence that for
some time the detective found it impossible to pen-
etrate. Not till he read in a much later letter, “]


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
289
hope your sweet little Mildred is well ; I wonder if
the other one has flourished as rapidly and looks as
well,” did the light he was seeking, break in upon
this seemingly common-place history. Then in-
deed, he appeared to catch a glimpse of something
that might lead him out of the maze his imagina-
tion had wrought for itself, and he addressed his
attention to the remaining letters of the packet
with renewed interest. But beyond a sympathetic
word here and there, and some expressions of relief
that Mrs. Farley had had the courage to resign a
part of her burden in order that the rest might be
sustained, he found nothing to corroborate his sus-
picions till he suddenly stumbled upon these words
at the beginning of a letter dated from New York.
“ I have news for you, I have seen her and she is as
much like Mildred as any little lady brought up in
the lap of luxury could be like a child who has not
always had two pairs of shoes for her feet. I met
her as she was going to school. I was on the side-
walk in front of the house and she passed so near
me I could have caught her in my arms. Why
didn't I? She would only have thought me crazy,
and that wouldn't have done me any harm, while
the letting her go by me as if her sweet body did
not contain a drop of my blood, did. But her rich
dress and the haughty way in which she held her
head, over-awed me, and I did not even follow her
down the street, though I own my heart went after
her almost as much as if she had been my own child.


290
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
What grief, what longing must be yours! I appre-
ciate it now that I have seen with my eyes this fac-
simile of the darling you have retained for your own
solace." And this letter was signed Annie like the
rest, and bore a date of only ten years back.
After this Mr. Gryce was not astonished to find a
change in the direction of the epistles addressed to
Mrs. Farley. From being sent to a small town in
Ohio, they were now inscribed to a certain number
in Bleecker Street, New York. The widow had
moved herself and child to the great metropolis,
and henceforth the letters recognized the fact that
a stern conflict was going on in her breast, that,
added to her daily struggle for bread, was fast un.
dermining what little health she had.
At last, words of condolence took the place of
words of hope, as the two struggles culminated ;
followed by sudden congratulations that she had
found strength in her weakness, and had not only
been saved from breaking a most solemn oath, but
had found in the child who shared her life and
fortunes, a help and comfort, that would yet com-
pensate her for all she had lost and suffered.
And then a sudden failure on the part of Annie
to write; with hurried lines, manifestly from some
other member of this same Annie's household, in
which hope was expressed that Mrs. Farley was
well, and news given of the invalid, as Annie was
henceforth called; winding up with this single in-
junction in the old handwriting.“ Do be careful ;


XXIV.
EXPLANATIONS.
DR. CAMERON wished to see Mr. Gryce, Mr. Gryce
was ready to see Dr. Cameron. The result was
that they were closeted together at police head-
quarters.
The meeting of the two was peculiar. Each had
something to say and the other knew it, but the
doctor as well as the detective carefully concealed
his impatience, and waited with seeming impassive-
ness for the other to begin. It was Mr. Gryce who
at last broke the silence.
“I have learned a fact,” said he," which I think
it is your right to know. It is an unexpected one,
and may cause you some chagrin, and may not. It
depends upon what affects your pride and whether
in seeking a wife you had any other views than
those which could be met by her youth, her beauty
and her wealth.”
Dr. Cameron smiled bitterly. “If I once pos-
sessed what you call pride, it has been somewhat
roughly exorcised by the experiences of the last few
days. Do not let any fear of wounding my self.
esteem stand in your way."
292


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
293
“I only wish to prepare you," exclaimed the de.
tective, “for what will probably prove a surprise.
And yet why should I take that for granted : you
look like a man who has made his discoveries too."
“My discoveries are not your discoveries," as-
serted the doctor ; " yet why should I take that for
granted ? Because I have learned certain facts in
what seems to me an unique way, it does not follow
that you have not known them from the first
through your detective intuition. But let us not
fence with each other in regard to such an impor-
tant matter. Tell me the result of your labors and
I will respond if necessary by telling you mine."
“ Very good," returned the detective. “You
will pardon me if I begin with a question. When
you married Miss Gretorex so called ".
“ So called ?"
“ Did you not suppose that you were marrying
the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Gretorex ? "
“Certainly,-of course, why?”.
“They let you think so ? Did not tell you that
she was only their child by adoption, beloved by
them as their own, and the destined inheritor of
their wealth, but not of their blood or lineage any
mcre than this poor Mildred Farley was, let us say,
or any other girl you might chance to meet in a
walk through Broadway?"
The surprise of the doctor, so great as to almost
render him speechless, was his best reply. The de.
tective immediately proceeded.


294
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ Then you were made the viction of a deception"
he declared, firmly. “Genevieve Cameron is your
wife, but she is not the child of Mr. and Mrs. Philo
Gretorex. She was adopted by them when she was
a babe, and under such circumstances, and with
such secrecy, that the truth has never transpired
even among the nearest relatives of the family. Do
you wish to hear any particulars of the affair?”.
Dr. Cameron rose, walked to the window, threw
it up, and took a deep breath of the cool February
air; then he came back, a trifle haggard, a trifle wan,
but outwardly composed.
“I most certainly do," he returned ; “ but first re-
assure me in one regard. My wife_”.
He had overrated his strength. That name could
not pass his lips without a struggle. He paused
and looked imploringly at the detective.
“I understand you,” the latter responded. “You
wish to know if she was a party to the deception ?
I would rather not answer you yet. Let me first
give you the details of her adoption."
Dr. Cameron drew a deep sigh. These tremen-
dous blows, one after the other, were telling upon
him.
“I am listening," he observed; but his eyes had
a far-away look, as if they rested upon objects re-
mote from those contained in this barren office.
And they were. They were seeing, as in a vision,
a calm, sweet profile, outlined against a pillow, upon
whose closed lids and immovable mouth, uncon


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
295
sciousness still sat, but sat so lightly that at any
hour a change might come and awake this soulless
marble into a living woman, with eager yearning
in her eyes and an awful trepidation in her heart.
Was he beginning to dread that hour, and wish
he might be lying in blissful unconsciousness when
it came ?
Mr. Gryce, who, as I have said, understood men,
perceived this look and remained for a moment
silent; then, with softened tone and a quiet air,
commenced in his easy, colloquial way to say,
“Twenty years ago Philo Gretorex was on the
road to fortune, but had not yet attained its sum-
mit. He was the owner of stock in a railroad which
has since made many millionaires, but he was not
so rich nor had he yet become so powerful that he
could not take a journey or undertake any project
without attracting to himself the attention of the
social as well as of the financial world. When,
therefore, he and his wife decided one summer upon
taking a trip through Ohio and the other states ly-
ing near the Mississippi, there were no bulletins of
their movements published in the papers, and they
could even halt for weeks at some more pleasing
spot than common, without especial wonder being
excited or their proceedings discussed. As the
journey was for the benefit of Mrs. Gretorex's health,
which really had not been good, they made these
stops often, and the longest one and the most
fruitful, as you will presently discover, was in a small


296
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
village called M- I can locate it exactly
when you wish me to do so. Here they remained a
month and when they went away they carried with
them a female infant whom they henceforth pre-
sented to the world as their own, under the name of
Genevieve. I have the inner history of the matter
from the woman who was present at the birth of the
child and afterwards saw it transferred from the
real parent to this rich but childless lady from New
York. The circumstances were as follows: Mrs.
Farley-you start at that name, yet you must have
already guessed it—was a woman who had been
suddenly bereft of her husband and all means of
livelihood, at a blow. She lived, or rather was
staying on sufferance, in the same hotel at which
Mr. and Mrs. Gretorex were then boarding, and the
day had come for her to give birth to a child.
Her room adjoined that of the New York lady, and
though they had barely met in the halls and on the
portico, Mrs. Gretorex possessed sufficient of the
milk of human kindness to take a certain superficial
interest in her unfortunate neighbor. She was with
her more or less during the day, and when she
heard the child cry,-it was night, but she was not
deterred by that fact,-she rose and hastened into
Mrs. Farley's room. An unexpected sight met her
eyes. Stretched on the bed was the mother, with
almost an expression of terror on her face, and in
the arms of the relative acting as nurse, and likewise
in those of the doctor, was a child, each of which


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
297
dropped its little head and let fall its little arms
with so precisely the same aspect of helplessness, that
they looked even in that first hour of their life like
the mirror of each other. Two! and the poor woman
did not know how she was going to support one!”
“Stop!" came from Dr. Cameron in hoarse and
difficult tones. “You are speaking of my wife,
and—”
“The poor girl who looked so much like her that
we both took her for Miss Gretorex.”
A strange smile fitted over the doctor's pale lips,
and that far-away gaze returned. But he soon
mastered himself, and remarked with just a shade of
bitterness.
“ They were sisters, then?”.
“ They were sisters."
The silence which followed this speech was broken
at length by the doctor.
“Go on with your story," he commanded. “I
think I can see what happened.”
“Yes, it is evident,” rejoined the detective. “Mrs.
Gretorex, who had no children, looked at this poor
woman who was burdened with more than she knew
how to take care of, and a sudden longing seized
her. Approaching the infants, she looked at them
both, and found they were equally healthy, pretty,
and promising. What would I not give for one of
you,' she cried, and turning, glanced at the mother.
Her words and her look were like a sudden gleam
of light to the weak and almost despairing woman.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
299
which lay on a little stand near by. Annie-
which was the relative's name, and who as far as I
can learn was the widow's adviser on this occasion-
placed the book in it, and looked on while the poor
woman kissed it, after which the lady carried the
sacred volume to the doctor, whom curiosity had
kept in the room, and requested that he would
satisfy her with the same oath. But he refused to
do this, though he was liberal in his promises, and
she had to be content with the vows she wrung
from the two women. The choosing of the child
was the next step. They had been laid side by
side, and to all human eye there was not the shade
of difference between them. But without pause
or hesitation she stooped over and took the one
lying furtherest from her grasp, possibly because
she thought they expected her to take the other :
and with this burden held awkwardly to her breast,
she went quickly out of the room, and only the
little dent left in the pillow, remained to tell the
story of the vanished babe.”
“Oh!" burst from Dr. Cameron's lips in a heavy
sigh, as his two arms opened with an involuntary
gesture. It was the overflowing of a very natural
emotion. At the thought of that little dent, all his
love for the woman whose infant head had made it,
seemed to rush in a flood back upon his heart, till
he almost forgot the stern facts which had lately
shaken her hold upon him.
“ This was the beginning," resumed Mr. Gryce,


300
BEHIND CLOSED DUURS.
“of the separation between the sisters. It looked as
if it would be a final one, for early in the morn-
ing, almost before daybreak, I believe, Mr. and Mrs.
Gretorex, her nurse, she did not travel without one
in those days,-and the babe, had left the town.
Poverty held Mrs. Farley to the West, and for ten
years she heard nothing and knew nothing of the
child she had given away. Then an inconsiderate
word from the very woman who had influenced her
to part from the babe, woke the sleeping mother-
hood within her, and without calculating the cost or
seeing her way very clearly, she came East, bringing
her little Mildred with her. She took lodgings in
Bleecker Street, and recommenced the old struggle
for existence under less favorable auspices than be-
fore; for here she was a stranger, while there she
had been known and recognized for her worth and
misfortunes. But she was near the child she had
parted with, and she was where she had every facil-
ity for educating Mildred, and she allowed these
two facts to content her, especially as the latter was
very quick at her books and gave every promise of
being an honor and comfort to her. When Mrs.
Farley first saw the child who upon growing up be.
came your wife, I cannot be quite sure. With all
my efforts I have but succeeded in gaining but the
barest outline of these days, which must have been
so full of emotion for this broken-down but still lov.
ing and unsatisfied woman. That she did see her
more than once at this time is evident from words


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
301
she let fall in the letters she wrote to this friend of
whom I have before spoken. But that she broke
her oath by speaking to the child we have no proof,
nor is it to be presumed she did, though the temp-
tation must have been great at times, especially
when she came upon her alone, as she must have
done more than once. We have even the record of
a day when, after a walk of miles, she came to the
house where Mrs. Gretorex was living, only to
observe her daughter driving away from the door in
a carriage. Though she had no right to be disap-
pointed, and though she had often taken the same
journey without any other reward than a sight of
the windows behind which her child was supposed
to be sitting, she felt herself strangely unnerved by
this incident, and only realized what a spectacle she
was making of herself, when she beheld the passers-
by turn and look at her as she stood there wringing
her hands and moaning feebly to herself. Then she
was frightened, and turning, fled away, only to
come back again in the evening, or when her expec-
tations being less, her disappointment could be more
easily hidden. Meanwhile, without especial pride
or satisfaction, she saw Mildred advance in mind and
improve in a thousand ways. She loved her and
leaned on her, and in time profited by her earnings
to the extent of owing her very sustenance to her ;
but her deepest thoughts, her deepest longings,
were for the proud and dainty Genevieve, who like
as not passed her with a stare of haughty inquiry, or


302
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
that worse aspect of utter indifference, which would
be most natural under the circumstances. To see
her at her side, to hear her speak the word mother,
was worth the sacrifice of her existence; and when
both girls reached the estate of womanhood, and
she beheld one toiling with uncomplaining affection
to supply her failing health with the comforts she
needed, it was not on her account she summoned
up strength for those long walks through the city
streets, but to catch a glimpse of that other one, rid-
ing by in her carriage in an atmosphere of wealth
and fashion that must have almost overwhelmed
the poor woman. The extreme likeness between
the sisters added to this effect and was the reason,
perhaps, why she never took Mildred with her on
these expeditions, even after she grew so feeble that
she often tottered in the streets and had to sit down
on stoops to rest herself. And did Mildred know
the secret of her mother's conduct and frequent
despairs? you now naturally ask. It is to be sup-
posed so. Though no account is given of when or
where the revelation was made, there are words
scattered through these same letters which show
that the less favored child had moments of rebellion
against the splendor and love which surrounded her
more fortunate sister, though she never allowed her
feelings to interfere with her labors or the ever in-
creasing care with which she surrounded her mother.
And so the days went by, and the moment came
which changed all their lives and led in some


THE DARKENING
303
strange and as yet uncomprehended way to the trag.
edy in which we are specially interested. I allude
to the instant when Mrs. Farley broke her oath and
the silence of years, and informed Miss Gretorex
of the falsity of her relationship to the woman she
called mother, and her true relationship to herself
and the girl who had solicited her custom and de-
manded her patronage. It took place through
Mildred, and I am disposed to think in Miss
Gretorex's room. But my details on this subject
are very meagre, owing to the fact that Mrs. Farley
wrote but one letter after this period and that a
very disjointed and unsatisfactory one. Her end
was near, and beyond wild expressions of thank-
fulness that she had been at last allowed to clasp
her darling Genevieve in her arms, there is little
to enlighten the recipient or us. But we can
surmise that in connection with what Mrs. Cameron
has told us of her first meeting with the youthful
dressmaker, came that dressmaker's startling reve-
lation of their relationship, followed by an appeal
which finally brought the wealthy young lady to
the poor widow's bed-side. For more than one
person at Mrs. Olney's boarding-house remembers
the day when a private carriage drove up to the
house and an elegant lady, closely veiled, descended
and made her way without inquiry to Mrs. Farley's
room, with the ostensible purpose of having a dress
fitted. But her stay lengthened into hours, and
much wonderment was created. Nor was this the


304
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
only time she came. More than once during Mrs.
Farley's illness, her carriage was seen in front of the
house, and once after Mrs. Farley died. But she
never again remained beyond proper limits, and the
gossip which her first visit had created soon died
out for the want of fuel to feed it.”
There was silence ; Mr. Gryce had evidently
finished his story. With an effort the doctor
roused himself, eyed the narrator and asked in a
strange tone that of itself awakened anew the
detective's interest;
“Do you know if she ever met Dr. Molesworth
in any of these visits she paid her mother?"
It was a new note sounded. Mr. Gryce recog-
nized the fact, and for a moment looked not only
thoughtful but inquisitive ; then he shook his head
and somewhat equivocally replied :
“We have not got to the end of our inquiries
yet."
“Then," was the doctor's grim conclusion, “this
discovery that my wife was sister to the girl who
died in her room has not satisfied you that she was
innocent of her death?”
“ It has made the theory of suicide seem less im.
probable. While it is hard to imagine that a seam-
stress would be initiated into the secrets of Miss
Gretorex's jewel-casket, a sister might. Yet—”.
“You are not perfectly satisfied,” finished the
doctor, “difficult as it is to discover a motive for
murder, and simple as it is to see that of suicide."


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
305
“I am ready to be made so," the detective sug-
gested.. "I ask nothing better then to have my
mind cleared of every doubt concerning one whose
situation is so pitiful, and who holds so close a rela-
tionship to yourself. As proof of it I am willing to
talk over probabilities with you for another half
hour. For instance, do you think her dread of hav-
ing you learn her true parentage was enough to
account for the extreme suffering which blanched
her hair in a night and laid her in a state of in-
sensibility at our feet ? ”.
The doctor was silent.
Mr. Gryce's look and tone became almost fa-
therly.
“I have seen much of life," he pursued, “and
much of women. Forced by my business into
scenes trying to every faculty of their mind and
emotional nature, it has been my lot to behold
them in their love, their hate, their triumph, and
their despair ; and I have found that though they
can feign much, conceal much, bear much, they
succumb only when they own a frightful secret and
can see no way of hiding it any longer. Such a
secret I believe your wife to hold, and till you can
name it by some other name than that of murder,
I must continue to think she was the occasion, in-
tentionally or unintentionally, of Mildred Farley's
death."
If this language and the whole general conduct
shown by the detective at this crisis was a scheme
20


306
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
on his part to get at a truth he otherwise feared to
miss, he was certainly successful; for no sooner
had these words passed his lips than the doctor's
face lost the peculiar look it had hitherto worn, and
with a start, he vehemently cried:
“Well, I will give it a name. At the sacrifice
of every particle of pride yet left me after the
scourging process to which I have been subjected,
I will tell you what that secret is. To save her I
could scarcely do more, and yet to save her I
would willingly give my life.”
“Let me hear it," answered the detective. “If it
is a secret that can be kept without violation of
our duty, be assured that no one beside the in.
spector and myself shall ever know it."
Dr. Cameron looked at the detective, and said
slowly:
“Do you know why the woman whom we saw
through the curtain at the C- Hotel, looked so
astoundingly like my wife that we found it impos-
sible to suppose her to be anyone else ?”
Mr. Gryce smiled.
“Why, I have just told you," said he. “She
was Mildred Farley, your wife's twin-sister, and as
like her—"
“You mistake,” was the dry interruption. “She
whom we saw that day was not Mildred Farley but
Genevieve Gretorex; in other words my wife her
self, or she who afterwards became so.”


XXV.
THE HEART OF GENEVIEVE GRETOREX.
THIS revelation so far beyond Mr. Gryce's expec-
tations woke within him a peculiar excitement; the
pupil of his eye diminished rather than enlarged,
and the hand which toyed with the pen-wiper, whose
leaves already held so many of his secrets, trem-
bled, or seemed to do so.
“Is that so ? ” he muttered.
“Genevieve Cameron,” continued the doctor,
in a hard, dry tone, as if he felt that only by the
suppression of all emotion would he be enabled to
get through the relation he had before him, “suf-
fers the consequences of Genevieve Gretorex's
folly, but she is no longer swayed by it. She loves
her husband and only dreads his discovery of the
waywardness of her early affections. For the mo.
tive which drew her away from home and kept her
lingering in that hotel up to almost the hour of her
promised marriage with me was a strong, senseless
and mistaken fancy for Julius Molesworth."
It was out, and Mr. Gryce as well as Dr. Cameron
himself, looked relieved. It only remained now to
explain matters.
307


308
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Your story," the doctor went on, “ was a fitting
prelude to mine, for by it we understand how this
elegant and reserved woman came to meet this man.
It was in Mrs. Olney's house, and at the bedside
of Mrs. Farley, whom I now recognize for her real
mother. Though engaged to me, she was moved
by something in his manner and speech ; and this
susceptibility, incomprehensible to me I assure you,
strengthened into passion as she saw him again
and again at the same place, till she was ready to
forget honor, duty, and her plighted word; the very
remoteness of the world in which he lived, so differ-
ent from that with which she daily came in contact,
lending a glamour of romance to the situation
which was certainly not in it to any other eyes and
not in it to her when she came to the final hour
and realized all she must give up and all she must
take on, to be the fitting wife for the hard-natured,
poverty-stricken man she had chosen.”
“But-"
“Be patient; it is a hard story I have to tell and
I must tell it in my own way. The eccentricities
of Mrs. Gretorex, and the pride which she had
doubtless been told I possesed, are her excuses,
probably, for the underhand course she took in the
whole matter. If her mother-I allude to Mrs.
Gretorex—had responded to her as she ought when
asked if it were too late for her to break het en
gagement with me, or if I had shown her even the
beginning of that interest in her own welfare which


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
309
I feel now, she might have been tempted to reveal
the truth, and not resorted to such violent and un-
heard of measures to satisfy her own imagined
wishes without endangering that open censure of
society which she felt herself too weak to meet.
For it was not enough that she contemplated giv-
ing herself that very night to another than the one
she stood pledged to, but she had also made all her
plans for supplying me with a more willing bride
than herself; a bride whose bright eyes, in the one
short glance I had of her, deceived me into think-
ing I had my own Genevieve back, happy and re-
stored, and whom, if Genevieve had not returned,
penitent and eager, a short half hour before the
time for our descent to the parlors, I should have
doubtless led below, to my great undoing and that
of every person concerned.”
Mr. Gryce uttered an ejaculation.
“ It surpasses everything I have ever known,"
cried he ; it makes me young again; it recalls the
old wonders of—".
He paused, cast an apologetic look into the heart
of the pen-wiper and murmured some excuse.
His professional ardor had made him forget his feel.
ings as a man. He did not lapse again, but his eye
burned like a spark of fire.
“ The likeness between the sisters must have
been most marked, or two such sensible women
would not have entered into so tremendous and
dangerous a scheme. And yet the ignorance of the


310
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
one and the passion of the other are sufficient ex.
cuses, perhaps, for even so great a folly as this; espe-
cially as the latter failed to support the necessary
courage for the execution of a plan which probably
looked more feasible in prospect than in reality.
That Julius Molesworth himself stepped in and put
an end to an attempt he certainly had too much
good sense to sanction, may be the true explana.
tion of her sudden return to duty and the true affec-
tion of one in her own station of life. But at this I
can only hazard a guess, for my knowledge begins
and ends with an account given by Genevieve of
her state of mind between the time she first saw
Dr. Molesworth and the afternoon of the day when
she expected him to respond to her summons by
visiting her at the C- Hotel.”
As he said this the doctor's hand strayed me-
chanically to his pocket, which Mr. Gryce, observ-
ing, for all his studied attention to the pen-wiper,
exclaimed:
" Papers? Let me see them; I like to get my
facts at the fountain-head.”
Dr. Cameron frowned, greatly annoyed at himself ;
but upon considering that the same result would
have followed his necessary explanation of where
he had obtained his knowledge, he thrust his hand
into his pocket, and drew out the small roll which
we have seen once before in his grasp.
“ Letters written by my wife," he asserted, shortly,
“ to the gentleman already mentioned between us.


THE DARKENING CLOUD
311
Not sent, but kept as a gift to be placed in his hand
when the law had sanctioned their affection. That
moment never came, and the roll taken from the
hotel to her own room in her father's house, was
found by me in hiding, between the cushions of an
old sofa. That she did not destroy it is doubtless
due to the fact that she felt it to be the best plea
she could present if the truth in regard to her con-
duct on the day of our marriage, ever came to
light."
“Miss Gretorex's writing and no mistake," was
Mr. Gryce's sole comment, as he turned the pages
over with busy hand. Then, shortly, “ How came
your attention to be directed to the sofa as a place
of concealment."
“I don't know. It was one of those discoveries
that follow an impulsive thought. I had the sofa
before my eyes, and feeling assured that the roll
had been hidden somewhere—” Here he explained
how he come to know there was a roll at all, and
Mr. Gryce, listening, smiled a little smile of con-
gratulation, though inwardly vexed that he had to
depend upon another for so important a discovery.
This matter being made clear, Mr. Gryce turned
to the first sheet unfolded before him and began to
read. The words thus perused were as follows:
“I write because I cannot keep silent. I write
to you because you are the first person I have ever
met who made me feel I had a soul above the or-
dinary comings and goings that occupy my days.


314
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have never known a want. Is this the reason that
a marriage which will insure me the same monoto-
nous life of ease, seems less desirable to me than
one which will awaken every latent energy of my
soul, and make of my daily existence a struggle and
a victory? I cannot say, I only know that it is not
the fear of losing the splendors and luxuries which
surround me that makes me shrink from the step
before me, for they are no longer necessary to my
happiness ; indeed they only seem like clogs upon
it, to be shaken off without a pang. I speak to my
mother—the only one who has been a real mother
to me-to-morrow.”
“In vain. I knew it before I had said a word ;
she is so wedded to the ways of the world. I must
marry where I have promised and the fairest dream
of my life-the only dream of my life-must remain
a dream and nothing more. Can I bear it? Can
you bear it? I shudder at my fears which whisper
No."
“ Mildred has told you my decision, and what was
your response ? That the woman who loved you
must be willing to make any and every sacrifice for
your sake. Did this mean that you demanded and
expected of me a renunciation of my present inten.
tions, whatever the world thought, or whatever the
world said ? I fear so, but you cannot know what
all this implies; you cannot know the strength of
those invisible ties which bind us to the honor,
the esteem, the will of those who have ministered
to our every want from childhood. It would
take a superhuman will and a superhuman love
to make a woman willing to rend these as they
would have to be rent, if I dismissed, without my


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
315
parents' sanction and support, the proud man whose
home is all but prepared for my unworthy self. I
feel that I have not the courage, shall I say the
hardness of heart to do this; and yet to please you
I would lie down on my bed and die. Ah, can that
be the sacrifice you meant ? Make me happy by
saying so."
“I cannot marry where I do not love, every fibre .
of my being revolts. What is to be done, then ?
Help me, some good angel, help me in my fearful
emergency."
“I may not see you, I may not write you,
openly, but I can think and pray and talk to Mil-
dred who now and then may say a word to you.
Happy Mildred! yet she does not feel herself so.
She yearns for just what I long to leave ; sees my
wealth, and thinks that nothing is more desirable;
sees my lover and wonders that I can falter an
instant in my faith to him. Poor, mistaken uneasy.
souled girl! Yet how generous she is ! how noble
and how devoted! She makes me feel small some-
times, there is such a sweep to her nature. Could
our places be exchanged-Great God! what
thought is this which drives madly through my
brain. Has my desperate situation made me mad?
I really begin to think so.”
“We are of the same height, we are of the same
age, we are of the same build, and our features and
expression are so alike that I never lose the un-
canny sense that I am looking at my own picture
in the glass when I survey her. How is it with
others ? To see, we changed places to-day. I
went to Mrs. Olney's and putting on Mildred's


316
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
clothes, I dressed her in mine. Then seating her
behind the window-curtain, where only her dress
would be visible, I sent for the girl who does the
up-stairs work, and gave her something to do which
would keep her quite a little time in the room.
And then I talked to her, and while I talked, I
watched her face to see if she showed any perplex-
ity or confusion. But though she is a bright
enough person, I noticed no hesitation in her
manner nor any mark of suspicion, and gaining
courage from this, I made the request that Mrs.
Olney should come up, and when she did, I received
her as I thought Mildred would do, and asked her
about a certain matter concerning which · Mildred
desired some information. The result was surpris-
ingly satisfactory and I saw her go out of the room
without showing by the least change in her look or
manner that she had any doubt about my being the
person I professed to be. Carried away by this
success, we planned a greater test yet. Pulling
down the veil over Mildred's face, I led her down-
stairs and knocking at your office door, I led her in.
You were alone, you remember, and placing myself
as sentinel at the door, I allowed her to pass me
and address you as if she were Genevieve Gretorex.
In the pleasure you experienced, you held out your
hand, and I watched you while she tore off her veil
and stood looking at you, straight and full, in the
broadest spot of light the room afforded. You did
not pause nor shrink; and when she declared with
that proud poise of the head which seems as nat-
ural with her as with me, 'I shall see you no more
till I am a free woman,' I knew by your smile and
the triumphant gleam in your eye, that even love
could be deceived by such similarity as there was
between us; and the vague hope and half-formed


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
317
purpose that had suggested itself to us as the only
solving of our fearful riddle, took on color and
became an actually contemplated plan.”
“Mildred is like a bird that has found its wings, a
flower that has inhaled its first breath of sunshine.
If I falter, she buoys me up; if I speak of the
awful consequences of detection, she laughs and
asks if your image is growing pale in my sight or if
I fear to trust her, who has certainly the most diffi-
cult part to play. I can but answer no to the first
question and another no to the second, but the last
is the more doubtful of the two, and she sees it and
proposes that I put her to the test before the final
decision is made. I have agreed to this and to-
night she is to take my part here as I took hers in
Mrs. Olney's house.'
“What an evening! Mildred came early and we
again changed dresses. This time it was an after-
noon costume of mine she put on, and I must say
she looked exceedingly well. Then I talked to her
for half an hour, giving her the minutest instruc-
tions possible as to how she was to conduct herself
with my mother, and afterwards with Dr. Cameron.
She is an apt pupil, and showed such readiness that
I could hardly realize she had not been used to
these surroundings all her life, and when the time
came for her to descend to what certainly seemed
to me a most trying and desperate ordeal, she
looked so brilliant, and glowed with such happiness,
I had to stop her and suggest that she tone her
spirits down a trifle, as I had not worn such a face
as that since I was a school-girl. Whereupon she
became deliciously demure and had her revenge by
asking me in a whisper if Dr. Cameron ever did me


318
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
were
life. "O, manes, for pray
the honor of kissing me, and when I answered,
'Sometimes,' she murmured, “Then pray Heaven
this may not be one of the times, for I shall certainly
blush like mad since no man has ever touched my
lips in all my life.' At which acknowledgment
such a pang went through me I almost called her
back, for I seemed for the first time to realize her
supreme innocence and the dreadful temptation to
which I was exposing it. For I can see that,
mingled with all her dreams of splendor, ease, and
adulation, is a very romantic but decidedly fervent
admiration for the man who alone can bring her
these. She has never heard him speak, but that
is not necessary when the eye is satisfied as hers has
evidently been in the one glimpse she had of Dr.
Cameron in front of my house the other day.”
“ It is incredible. She has come back, and in so
proud and joyous a mood she seemed to float
rather than walk into the room. “I have done it,'
she cried. 'I have sat on the library sofa and
talked with father and with mother'—she called Mr.
and Mrs. Gretorex, father and mother !—' and have
been in the parlor and had a few words with Dr.
Cameron. I did not dare to prolong the conversa-
tion, much as I would have liked to,' she naïvely
added. “And see! here I am, alive, and only the
least bit frightened and confused. I-I think I
startled mother a trifle at first. She is so com-
manding in her ways I did not feel quite at home
with her ; but it wasn't anything serious, and with
just a little more practice, I am sure I can pass for
a very decent sort of Genevieve, even with her.
As for Dr. Cameron I leave it to you to find out at
your next interview whether he was dissatisfied with
his bride or not.' 'He certainly won't be,' I re-


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
319
plied, if you looked as you do now.' And then
we laughed, and then we gazed at each other, long
and seriously, and before our glances fell, our course
was decided upon and the die cast.'
“We had planned in case Mildred failed in her
daring impersonation, to pass it all off as a joke.
Thank God I did not have to so compromise the
dignity of my love for you!”
“I am not so light-hearted as Mildred but I am
fully as happy. Do you think of me with the same
fervor that I do of you? Do I fill all your thoughts
and give impetus to all your aspirations ? Let me
trust so or I shall never find courage to carry out
the delicate and dangerous undertaking whose only
aim is to make four human beings happy and sat.
isfied."
“ I shall not tell you how I propose to free myself
till the hour comes at which I can bid you come
and take me, for I am yours. Either I fear you
will hesitate to accept so great a sacrifice (though
sacrifice is what you expect, even what you de-
mand); or else I dread some hitch or failure in our
plans that will throw us all back again into despair.
Whatever be the true source of my hesitation I
feel that silence as to our scheme is best, though I
know you will rejoice in its success and welcome
with all your heart the woman who was willing to
give up her very identity in order to be your
bride.
“My mother wished to dignify the ceremony of her
daughter's marriage by a long string of bridesmaids.
But I put the veto upon that as I feared Mildred


320
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could not hold her own amidst the chatter and
scrutiny of so many women. So now everything is
to be as simple as it will be rich. No one save Dr.
Cameron is to be allowed to go up stairs, and
Dr. — is to have no assistant. I won these con-
cessions from my mother by letting her follow her
own wishes as regards the supper, music and deco-
rations. Miss Mildred will have a splendid wedding,
and from the gifts which have already arrived I
judge she will have a magnificent display of pres-
ents."
“I say all this for the pleasure of adding that I do
not envy her in the least."
“Mildred works night and day at the rich gowns
which, if all goes well, she, not I, is to wear. They
are beautiful, but not as beautiful to me as the one
new dress which I have allowed her to make for
my own wearing on the day you will take me to
your heart. For I have a strange conscience about
this matter. Though I could load the poor dress-
maker down with gifts, to be used and enjoyed by
myself hereafter, some instinct of delicacy with-
holds me from this, and I provide no more for
Julius Molesworth's bride than would rightfully be
hers if she were in truth the poor dress-maker
whose identity she takes. I know that thus will I
please you best, as by this single-heartedness and
devotion to one aim, I best satisfy myself.”
“I have angered Dr. Cameron by my repeated re-
fusals to see him of late, but it cannot be helped.
Mildred will make it all right when she comes to
take my place, and I should feel the falsest of the
false if I let him touch the hand henceforth dedi
cated to you."


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
321
" Only a few days now and our destinies will be
decided. Could you move on so calmly in your
calling if you knew what awaited you so speedily?"
“I do not fear detection before the wedding cere.
mony. The flurry and excitement which accom-
panies such an affair will prevent the only thing
which could endanger our scheme; viz., long con.
versations, in which Mildred would be sure to be-
tray an ignorance which would arouse suspicion.
But afterwards what may not happen? I tremble
when I think of it, and ask myself if it would not be
wiser for her and me, if we tied ourselves together,
and thus joined, leaped into the North river instead
of crossing it as we expect to do in our search for
a temporary home in which to bury our old selves
and rise up with exchanged names, hopes, and iden-
tities.”
“I fear nothing. Did any one save you know there
were two of us, it would be different ; but that secret
has been kept absolutely, and any eccentricity which
may be observable in Dr. Cameron's bride, will be
laid to any other cause than the real one. Besides
as the day approaches I think more and more of you
and less and less of myself. Soon, very soon, I shall
see the shadow clear from your brow and the smile
beam on your lip. The dreariness, loneliness and
darkness that now encompass you will give way
before my love, and your soul will rise free into the
light, pure air which is its natural habitation.”
“My last day in this house! I went through
the rooms this morning in a sort of final farewell,
and to see if by any throb of my heart I could de-
tect the least sinking of the courage which up till
21


322
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
of this art whic and thus parlored any
scartainly,
which y see that guld scarcemansion," every
now has sustained me. But I did not feel any.
The gorgeous hall-ways, the luxurious parlors, with
their pictures, their statues, and the thousand and
one treasures of art which adorn every nook
and corner of this superb mansion, are beautiful
certainly, but I could scarcely see them, as I could
scarcely see that blank and dismal room of yours
which I endeavored to call up before my mind by
way of contrast. For your face was before my
eyes, rising between me and every splendor, as it
will always rise between me and every sordid sign
of poverty and discomfort that may henceforth
environ me. Such is the love I bring you. Will
it seem a sufficient dower in your eyes? The only
pang I feel is the natural heart-ache, at turning my
back forever upon those who have nurtured me
from birth. Though the bonds which held me to
them have been weakened almost to breaking by
the revelations which have been made to me this
last month, I still feel sufficient gratitude for what
they have done for me to find it just a little hard to
go away from them without a sign that the cheek
which has been kissed by them, will be kissed by
them no more. It is a death without the satisfac-
tion of parting. But this is only another gift to you,
whereby I hope to outdo Mildred in the value of
what we bring our husbands."
“I have left my home and together with Mildred
am now in a small but respectable boarding house
in Newark. How merry we are. She is the lady
now, and I am the attendant. But we talk, talk,
talk every minute. Only after long lessons on my
part do I allow her or myself the privilege of
speaking of him who has been the unconscious
cause of this strange and unprecedented action we
are contemplating."


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
323
“ It is done ; the Rubicon is passed ; Mildred has
gone to my old home in St. Nicholas Place, and I
have come to this hotel from which I hope, and ex-
pect to step forth your bride. Happy hour! I
tremble but it is with joy. A few minutes now and
the door will open and I shall see you enter,
your face radiant with the promise of every good
thing. I can scarcely wait for that moment. The
room seems to be reeling about me; I—"
“You know what has happened! You know the
look with which you met me; the words with which
you accepted the greatest sacrifice a true woman
could make. I have no words in reply ; I simply
scorn you to the height and to the depth of my
love, which was immeasurable. Since you wanted
no Mildred Farley, real or assumed, for your wife ;
since it was Genevieve Gretorex you loved and
Genevieve Gretorex alone that you expected to
marry,-if you married any one,-as Genevieve
Gretorex I will next meet you, but not to marry
you! Ah, no, that honor is too great for me.
Though you are generous, and in consideration of
my having given up everything for you, will take
me in my character of poor dressmaker, and as such
make me your honorable if not too highly es-
teemed wife, I must decline the sacrifice, so much
greater than any I could make. I was a proud
woman when I saw you, and I am a proud woman
yet. I do not need your sufferance to be a bride.
While you wait for the hour of nine to strike,
I shall leave this house and return to my true
self, and my true place. It is not too late, and
when you see me next, it will not be as a dazed
and huniiliated woman, but a proud wife, happy,
and glowing with the triumph of having escaped


324
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the fate of being forever allied to one with a heart
of stone and a mind respectable, but certainly not
appreciative.
"The formal note I leave you will simply tell you
where I have gone. When you read it I shall be
Mrs. Cameron.”


XXVI.
THE INSPECTOR.
THE sheets dropped from Mr. Gryce's hand, and
he sat staring right before him into vacancy. So
long he sat thus, without speech or any movement,
that Dr. Cameron, filled as he was with an ex.
hausting anxiety, felt his hair stir at the roots, so
threatening to his hopes were this silence and im-
mobility. At last he could bear it no longer.
Leaning forward, he touched the detective on the
shoulder.
“Well ?” he exclaimed, in a tone between inquiry
and impatience.
The detective threw off his absorption, breathed a
hurried sigh, and turned.
“A remarkable situation,” he cried; then in a
low, dissatisfied whisper, “and I was in the house all
the time."
" And I had just seen and spoken to the false
Genevieve, when the true one appeared at the end
of the hall; I shall never forget the expression which
crossed the poor girl's face at the sight. There was
terror, anger, dismay, rebellion in it all at once.
Though I had no clew to the passions which invoked
325


326
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
it, I have felt its force to this very day, and now
that I know she committed suicide-"
“You saw her?” The detective was quite eager.
“ Mildred Farley, I mean, dressed I suppose, in
Miss Gretorex's clothes, the ones in which the
latter afterwards appeared at the altar?"
“Yes."
“And she deceived you, made you think she was
the woman you had courted ?"
“ Certainly. I saw her but a moment, and I was,
as you remember, in a state of too great relief to be
critical. I recollect now, however, that she looked
brighter, and that she spoke with a freedom and
abandon I had never heard from Genevieve?"
“And her look when she saw the latter? It was
full of commingled passions you say. Was there
desperation in it?"
“ Possibly."
“Miss Gretorex had evidently not calculated on
Mildred's disappointment.”
“She was too absorbed in her own."
“Yet Mildred must have suffered as keenly at
that moment as her sister. She was on the verge
of every joy ; had but to reach forth her hand and
everything she could desire in this world would be
hers; when suddenly she found herself snatched
back and restored again to the old life of loveless
labor and narrow means. And she was an ambi.
tious woman, and, if I read their characters aright, of
a nature more ardent, as it was more fresh and
aspiring, than that of the sister who enjoyed them."


328
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
in telling me all this, Dr. Cameron, you have opened
up another question too serious to pass over.
What if Mildred Farley rebelled against the fate
which the return of the true Genevieve brought her?
Have you any proof to show she was not brought
to the instant submission which the circumstances
of the case required, by the draught which silenced
her accusing tongue and made the requisite transfer
of their clothing possible?”
“Have I any proof? Yes : Genevieve's face,
which shows she is not a demon! Have you ever
looked at her closely, sir? Have you ever watched
her smile? There is softness in her expression,
gentleness and sweetness, whatever her bearing may
be, or the dignity with which she holds the admira-
tion of men in check. But softness in the woman
who could do what you suggest! Gentleness in the
relentless being who could first lay a sister low and
then deliberately denude the corse, and re-array it
in the clothing she wore upon her own back! The
very thought is a horror; the very act an impossi-
bility. Why, sir, we are dealing with women, not
with ghouls.”
“We are dealing with a most tremendous situa-
tion, sir," was the quick retort ; "a situation that
demanded the most prompt and energetic measures.
What would apply to the ordinary exigencies of
life would not apply here. Love, honor, hope,
existence even-for what could Genevieve Gretorex
do to win her daily bread-were at 'stake ; and


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
329
women who in their hours of prosperous ease will
cower at a mouse, will often become lionesses, when
they are brought to bay by fate. Besides I should like
to suggest that Mrs. Cameron herself has admitted
she drew the body of her sister to the window and
threw upon it the pile of clothing we saw there. If
she could do this,”
“ That was different. It would take but a
momentary suppression of feeling to accomplish
this ; but to undress an inanimate body down to the
last detail, and then to put upon it again article
after article of her own clothing-why, she had not
the time to begin with, not if she worked with
lightning fingers and unerring touch. That with
the help of her sister, she succeeded in getting into
her bridal clothes so quickly is wonderful enough.”
“ So it is, so it is.”
“When we think of the time usually spent by
women in such matters, and recall the fact that in the
appearance of neither were there any signs of hurry
or neglect, we can draw but the one conclusion, that
the appearance of Genevieve was followed by an
immediate recognition of her superior claims on the
part of poor Mildred, that without more talk or
parley than was absolutely necessary, they instantly
entered upon the work of changing clothes, and
then when all was done and the bride was ready for
the ceremony, the wretched and cruelly disap-
pointed Mildred felt that gush of despair which
could only find relief in death, and seizing upon the


330
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bottle, of whose existence and place of hiding she
must have had previous intimation, emptied it at a
draught just as my poor wife has related."
Mr. Gryce had taken a sheet of paper and was
writing.
“Does not this seem the only explanation of the
facts as we have observed them?” pursued the doc-
tor. “Can you offer one more reasonable without
running the risk of seeming set in your desire to
find guilt where one would naturally look for only
the finest impulses ?”.
Mr. Gryce pushed away the paper he had been
writing upon, but did not answer. On the contrary,
he led the conversation into another channel.
“ You have noticed," said he, “ in reading these
letters written for Dr. Molesworth, how little pain
it seemed to cost Miss Gretorex to take the step
which, if carried out as intended, would, virtually,
have separated her forever from all her old associa-
tions. As this includes her parents we would
wonder at the ingratitude it betokened if we
did not know that she had lately discovered that
Mr. and Mrs. Gretorex were not her parents in
reality, and that she had been subjected to a decep.
tion calculated to weaken her regard for them. This
could not apply, however, to other friends, and when
she came to think, she must have experienced some
remorse at the coldness with which she had planned
her utter removal from them. There was a Miss
Clara Foote I think,"


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
331
“ My wife has had a quarrel with Miss Foote ;
they are not on speaking terms I believe."
“Ah, regarding this matter perhaps ? She may
have confided in Miss Foote?”.
“I do not think so. Miss Foote has been in
Europe ; has only just returned. Mrs. Cameron
would not trust such a secret to the mail. There-
fore there must have been some other cause for
estrangement. She is disappointed in her friend,
she says; why I cannot tell you, but she will not re-
ceive her nor talk about her."
Mr. Gryce drew another sheet of paper towards
him and jotted down a few words.
· "Women's caprices are incalculable,” he muttered
to himself; then, with an absent air, “ Has she ex.
hibited the same indifference to the rest of her
friends ? Has she shown no recurrence of interest
in her old life, with its pursuits and acquaint-
ances ?"
“She has shown as much as the circumstances of
the case would allow. You must remember she is
a bride, and if the bridegroom is not the one for
whom she was willing to throw away her old life, he
is still a bridegroom, and of undoubted interest to
her. She has had other reasons besides the series
of shocks she received, for whatever indifference she
may have displayed towards the world at large.
Besides she was not so indifferent. There was a
time in Washington when she seemed actually more
alive and eager in her enjoyments than ever before


332
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
in my experience of her. She glowed with pride
and joy, as she could not have done if she had held,
concealed in her breast, a secret which allied her to
the criminals it is in every woman's heart to abhor.”
“That was before Dr. Molesworth appeared be.
fore her eyes with the news of his impending arrest,
I take it."
“Yes."
"She was not so cheerful after that?"
“How could she be?”
“Worried about him, perhaps,—and tried to
hide it."
“If she worried about him, it was only such
worry as any woman would experience who felt she
had led an innocent man into a dangerous trap
from which her own safety forbade her to release
him."
“No love in her remorse? No vindictiveness in
her refusal to succor him?"
“Mr. Gryce, I am her husband, and as such I find
it anything but easy to answer such an insinuation.
Still, I will endeavor to, since my silence might con.
vey an impression, which, I am happy to say, would
be a false one. From the hour Miss Gretorex be-
came my wife, I saw nothing to arouse my jealousy,
nor can 1, in looking back now, remember a look or
word which would add fuel to the fire you seem
anxious to kindle. If a spark of the old passion re-
mained in her breast, it has never flared out to my
view ; and if her action towards him was pointed by


THE DARKENING CLOUD. 333
vindictiveness, she hid it so well that I would
sooner say it erred on the side of indifference than
that of suppressed feeling.'
Mr. Gryce looked as if he had driven the doctor
into just the corner where he wished to see him, and
jotted down a few words more.
“I suppose that as she returned to herself so
completely, she went back to all her old ways as re-
garded her recognized parents ? Wrote to them and
in all respects was the dutiful daughter she had al-
ways appeared to be."
“She would have written, I have no doubt, if she
had not had the rheumatism at the time. As it was,
I did all such work for her. I wrote two letters a
week. She was quite particular to have me inform
her mother of everything she thought would inter-
est her."
“She had the rheumatism, yet went out, you say,
and enjoyed life ?"
“The disease was confined to her hand. She had
difficulty in moving her fingers. It has not left her
yet."
“I see. Her ills are many; she is to be greatly
pitied.” And Mr. Gryce, adding a few more words
to what he had written, folded up the paper, and
taking it and the roll brought to him by Dr. Cam.
eron, rose, saying :
“We will not continue this conversation till I
have had a few words with 'the inspector. He is
not far from here and if you will wait, I will not


334
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
keep you long. Both you and myself would feel
better to have his advice upon so important a mat-
ter." The latter made no effort to stop him; he
felt helpless. The detective passed quickly out,
but as he did so, he cast a sympathetic glance
behind him at the doctor's bowed head, which it
the latter had seen, his spell of waiting would not
have been made any the easier to bear.
As it was, the minutes passed most wearily, and
it was with a sensation of intense relief that the
doctor finally beheld the door re-open and give en-
trance not to Mr. Gryce but to the gentleman who
had called upon him in reference to that fact about
his wife's dresses.
Dr. Cameron advanced at once to meet him.
“My fate?" he asked, without pause or pream.
ble.
The inspector took him by the hand.
“Let us talk first,” he suggested. “ Conclusions
of this kind cannot be reached in a minute. Dr.
Cameron, you love your wife and you believe in her
innocence."
“Implicitly."
“ A bridegroom's judgment is not always the
most reliable," the inspector went on; “but I am
willing to give you credit for great honesty of con-
viction and integrity of purpose. So much so that
I am ready to hear any remarks you may have to
proffer about your wife, or the impression she has
made upon you since you have been married.”


THE DARKENING CLOUD. 335
“I should find it difficult to give you my impres.
sions, sir. They have been so varied and so con-
flicting. But now that I know the events which
have made such havoc with her mind, I can consci.
entiously say that she has shown no caprice or
given any evidence of suffering which are not fully
explained by those events.”
“Even her white hair?"
“Even her white hair. Why, sir," the doctor pro-
ceeded, after a moment's pause, “ have you thought
what she went through in a few hours? Her disap.
pointment in Molesworth, the revulsion of feeling it.
must have caused, her return, her meeting with
Mildred, dressed and ready to take her part in the
great drama they were playing, the shock and reali.
zation which must have come at the sight of what
her change of intention would tear from the poor
girl with whom she had lately interchanged every
token of affection; then the hurried rush to get
back into her own clothes which likewise meant her
own identity, followed by that final act of Mildred
which in one moment made the room a charnel-
house and threw across her triumph and the festiv-
ities of the hour, a pall of mortal fear and horror,
which was all the more terrible that she must hide
it from every eye, even from that of her bride-
groom? And then that shriek, telling of some
unknown terror and discovery. Either Mildred
had come to life, and was in anguish to find herself
locked in the room with her memories and the


336
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
smell of death upon her; or, the key that Gene-
vieve held in her bosom had not turned the lock,
and in a moment, perhaps, she would hear another
shriek and this time that of Murder! Was there
no fierce mental strain in this? Then the thought
which must have been continually with her of what
she should say and do, when concealment was no
longer possible and she must not only explain the
presence of this dead girl in her room, but the inci.
dents and possibly the shameful scheme whose fail-
ure had produced the catastrophe. Do you think
.she was not planning excuses and uttering mental
pleas all the time she was receiving the congratula.
tions of her friends ?. And then the shock of seeing
Molesworth at the door, Molesworth whom she had
in a measure betrayed, and who she must have felt
was capable of anything at that moment, even of
denouncing her to her bridegroom and the hun-
dreds of guests there assembled. Was it not a
moment to try the soul of the strongest man, much
less that of a weakened and already greatly trou-
bled woman? And when by her hurried action she
had forestalled his possible speech, and by her
woman's wit succeeded in hiding herself with him
in that room of death above, can you not imag-
ine the shame and horror which must have over-
come her as she found herself forced to show him
the ghastly results of her trick and plead with him
for aid where she hoped to triumph over him in her
disdain. If this and all of this was not enough to


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
337
whiten her hair in a night, I can imagine no train
of circumstances that would. My own hair almost
turns at the thought of it, and I am a hard and
world-worn man."
“You are her worthy advocate," affirmed the in
spector, “and I am almost convinced by your argu.
ments. I should like to ask you one question, how.
ever, which may strike you as impertinent and un.
feeling, but which I assure you is prompted by no
other sentiment than the desire to do you a ser-
vice.”
“Ask it; I know of nothing which I should dare
withhold from you in this matter."
" It presupposes that you know me to be ac-
quainted with the letters you have just shown Mr.
Gryce, and it is in regard to the sentiment with
which you now suppose your wife to regard you.
It is love, you say ?”
“Ves, sir."
“ Not gratitude simply, nor regard; but love ?"
“Love."
“Yet it is but a short time since she was pouring
out the most extravagant expressions of affection
for another. Fucuse me; I cannot stop to soften
these hard truths.”
“I know; but a passion so wild and unrestrained
has terrible revulsions. She needed just such an
experience perhaps, to show her what true love
is.”
22


338
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“And you have missed nothing ?-nothing in her
regard for you I mean?".
A smile appeared on the doctor's pale lips for an
instant. “If I had no trouble but that, I should be
a very happy man.”
The inspector, grave beyond his wont, eyed the
doctor doubtfully.
“You are not deceiving yourself ?” he asked sig.
nificantly.
“ No."
“Pretty women can often make a man believe
anything."
The doctor rose. Anger Aashed from his eye
and sounded in the tone of his voice.
"You insult a most miserable man,” he began,
but meeting the inspector's eye, he stopped, quiv-
ered and sat down. “I see that this is only another
wrench of the rack,” he exclaimed. “You have a
purpose other than that of destroying me.”
“I want to find out if Genevieve Gretorex was of
so light a nature she could turn from one love to
another in the twinkling of an eye."
Dr. Cameron surveyed the speaker, realized what
danger might lie in his reply and was silent.
“I cannot believe," the inspector inexorably pur-
sued, “that a woman who could feel and express
herself as Genevieve Gretorex has done in these let-
ters we have read, could from any mere revulsion
of feeling, give her whole self to you with that
freshness and ardor your language seems to imply."


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
339
And still the doctor was silent.
“If time had elapsed, if after a season of indiffer.
ence and mental depression she had shown, first
appreciation of your goodness and then a gradual
awakening love for the man who cherished her so
fondly, I could have understood her conduct. But
to leap from one ardent passion into another with.
out pause or transition seems so unnatural that I
should not blame you if you felt some doubt as to
her truth.”
“But--" the doctor began in protest, though he
got no further. He felt himself in a net and he did
not know which way to turn.
· The inspector noted him carefully and proceeded
with seeming heartlessness.
“Would not that have been your opinion if it
were another man's case than your own that you
were considering ?".
“Possibly; I cannot say, I seem to have lost the
power of thinking; you awake a nest of sleeping
serpents in my breast and ask me to stand off and
analyze their writhings. Is it necessary to make
me suffer so ?”
“ It is necessary. That you suffer fixes an im-
portant fact in my mind. Had you not suffered-
had you been able to contradict me-I should pos-
sibly have drawn different conclusions. You will
forgive me when you receive the clew to my mo.
tives."


340
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“But am I not to know them now? Am I to be
kept waiting in this suspense—”.
“Dr. Cameron, I will not keep you in suspense.
Though in consideration of Mrs. Cameron's condi-
tion I shall refrain for the present from placing her
under actual arrest, I am so confident that she
knows more than she has ever told us concerning
this poor girl's death that I must beg you to con-
sider her as under surveillance. You will find when
you return home, a woman in your parlors whom I
request you to place at your wife's side in the ca-
pacity of nurse, though her business is directly
that of a detective. She is a kindly, capable, and
discreet woman who will neither offend you nor be.
tray us. May I rely upon you to receive her and
put nothing in the way of her fulfilling her duties
properly?"
“Ah, sir," came from Dr. Cameron in a burst of
shame and agony, “how can I do otherwise ! Are
you not the master of my fate and honor ?"
The inspector who found this as hard a piece of
work as he ever had had to do in his life, shook his
head. “I go no further than my duty compels
me," said he. “You have been made the victim
of a woman wholly unworthy of you, and have my
sympathy, as you will have that of every other hon-
est man in the community.”
But the doctor did not care for sympathy; it was
justice he wanted. “And is there no escape ?” he
cried. “Must we submit to this indignity, though


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
341
you do not even know there was any murder com.
mitted ?"
“ There is a mysterious death to account for and
Mrs. Cameron is the only one who can account for
it. To be sure if we knew all that Dr. Molesworth
could tell—"
“That he shall tell. I will appeal to him and he
will answer with the truth.”
The inspector gazed at the other, compassion-
ately. “You might not want to hear it,” he sug-
gested.
But the doctor flashed out quickly and earnestly :
“I do. These doubts, this uncertainty will ruin
me. If you think he knows the facts which sur-
round Mildred Farley's death, confront me with
him. He will not long retain his secret when he
sees what his silence will cost me."
But the inspector was not so sanguine. “ Dr.
Molesworth is a very strong man, and having made
up his mind to suppress the truth in this mat-
ter, it will not be so easy to force him into
speech.”
: “He does not know that my wife has confessed
to the death of this girl in her room.”
“And do you propose to tell him ? ”
“ If you will countenance me in doing so.”
“And you think that will be sufficient to loosen
his tongue ?"
“Yes, sir."
"I do not agree with you. Men of his stamp


342
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
have peculiar ideas of honor. If he was willing to
perjure himself to save your wife from consequences
that she feared, he will need something more than
this indirect acknowledgment from her to make
him change the story predetermined between them.”
“Not with the arguments I shall add to it. If he
is a strong man, I am a desperate one, and I will
wring the truth from him if he be made of iron."
The inspector looked at the doctor admiringly.
“I almost believe you,” said he, “and I only wish
you might have the opportunity for making the
trial. But it does not look as if you could have at
present. There is a fact which I must communi.
cate to you, Dr. Cameron. Julius Molesworth is not
to be found. He has disappeared.”
“Disappeared ? "
“Yes. It has been kept out of the papers but
it is none the less true. He is not in his home
nor has he been seen at the hospital for days.
Whether he is dead, or simply fled, we do not say.
We only know that he vanished one night when the
eye of the police was off him, and that with all our
efforts we have not been able to gain any trace of
his whereabouts."
“Gone? Julius Molesworth! then his reasons for
perjuring himself must have been stronger than we
thought. He must have guilt on his soul, positive
guilt.”
“In the shape of murder do you mean?"
The dry tone restored his good sense to the doc-


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
343
tor. He knew that this theory was untenable and
was ashamed of advancing it. Even if the evidence
could be shaken that Mildred Farley was dead be.
fore Dr. Molesworth entered Mr. Gretorex's house,
there was still no motive, absolutely no motive to
be found for the cold and indifferent lover of Gen-
evieve Gretorex desiring or even abetting in the
death of the girl whose only fault was that she stood
in the way of that lady's return to her proper char-
acter and position. No: to attribute crime to him
in the light of these late revelations was folly. And
yet his sudden Alight-for he would not admit the
possibility of death—could have but one interpreta-
tion and that was fear. Fear of what? That was
the enigma he now felt himself called upon to solve.
"Inspector," cried he, “ Julius 'Molesworth holds
the key to this tragedy. If he did not, he would not
be missing at a time when every business interest
that he has, links him to this spot. I am deter.
mined to have that key. Tell me then some of the
particulars of his disappearance, for I may see a clew
in them which might escape the eyes of any but a
fellow-practitioner.”
one night in his phaeton as usual. Drove to a ten.
ement house where he had a patient, went in, and
did not come out. There was a rear exit, you see,
and he must have made immediate use of it, for the
woman he is in the habit of visiting there declares
he did not come near her nor was he seen on the


344
· BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
:
stairs by any of the swarm of beings who infest the
house.
“And the phaeton ?"
"Stood there till one of our policemen found it
and drove it into a stable.”
“ Very good proof of his extreme anxiety to es-
cape.”
“ Very."
“And the boy who usually accompanies him ? "
“ Was not with him on this night. This, together
with the fact that he carried a small satchel, and
had taken all of his money out of the bank, makes it
next to certain that it was a premeditated flight."
“Oh it is flight; there is no doubt about that.
He became alarmed at the surveillance he was un-
But I believe if you will give me leave, I can find
him. Though no detective, my wits have been
sharpened by the fearful straits into which I have
been lately betrayed and I should like the oppar.
tunity of testing them.”
“Well, I see no good reason why I should refuse
to grant it to you. We want the man and will be
glad of any means that will secure him for us.
But he has been gone days, and may be hundreds
of miles from here. Do you feel as if you could
leave your wife?"
“I must. Don't you see that it would take
more than a man's courage to watch at her side
with these terrific doubts unsolved? I must be


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
345
active, I must be working for her if I am to hold
my reason till she is restored again to her natural
self. Besides I shall not be long. Something
tells me I shall find him soon.”
“Go, then, but—" The inspector did not finish.
His compassion made him dread the discoveries
which still lay in wait for this heavily afflicted man.


XXVII.
BRIDGET HALLORAN.
DR. CAMERON went from this interview immedi.
ately to Mrs. Olney's house. Not that he expected
to learn anything there to guide him in his search,
but that he felt he would be better qualified for his
undertaking if he subjected his impressions of
Julius Molesworth to the judgment of the woman
who had boarded him so long, and who might be
presumed to have formed a juster estimate of his
character than his own prejudice would allow. He
found her at home, and to his great astonishment
perceived that she no sooner heard his name than
she advanced eagerly to meet him. They were
soon talking, and he was still further surprised to
discover that either from some favorable impression
he had made upon her or from a mere love of
talking natural to some women, she was likely to
reveal much which her loyalty to the doctor had
kept her from imparting to the detectives. As for
instance she told him that the doctor must have
expected to stay away a long time, as he had taken
with him his mother's photograph; a circumstance
all the more marked that in order to do this he had
346


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
347
been obliged to take it out of its accustomed frame.
Then he had paid an old bill so trivial as to have
been forgotten by her, and left besides some loose
change in one of his drawers, which would be just
enough to satisfy his washerwoman and the boy
who took care of his horse. But his clothing and
small effects generally had been left behind : and
had it not been for the carrying away of that pict-
ure, she would fear he had gone to his death, so
melancholy had he been since that dreadful occur.
rence which had robbed him of his bride.
The doctor smiled bitterly at this but did not
interrupt her. If she, as well as all the world, be-
lieved that the woman who died had been the one
whom Julius Molesworth had courted and expected
to marry, it was not for him to enlighten her.
But what a mockery her words seemed.
The good woman went on. As for Dr. Moles.
worth himself, he was everything that was kind and
honorable. She both liked and admired him ; but
she did think him a little hard. It was this hard-
ness which had killed Mildred Farley. “Yes," she
persisted, as she noticed for the first time that look
on her visitor's face which is involuntarily assumed
when one hears another utter in their innocence
statements which he through his superior knowl.
edge knows to be absolutely false, “ Mildred was a
brave girl and a bright girl, but she had a woman's
longing for sympathy and affection which I do not
think he was fully calculated to meet. Even her


348
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
mother's love did not always satisfy her. I have
seen it and I have felt sorry about it for I know
that such natures are always bound to suffer. But
I never dreamed how much she would have to go
through, or that her disappointment and grief
would drive her to frenzy and suicide. If I had—"
But here the doctor with that impatience which
we always feel when we are listening to phrases
founded upon a complete misunderstanding of the
true causes for sympathy, made haste to divert her
attention from the girl she was discussing to the
man concerning whose whereabouts he was so
vitally interested. She immediately followed his
lead and for half an hour talked freely about her
mysterious boarder, his habits and his friends, with-
out affording the doctor one ray of light to help
him in his search ; till suddenly she diverted him
from the train of thought in which he had been
indulging, by the remark, uttered gratuitously and
without evident connection:
“And he was so attached to you, sir."
It was like a bomb-shell. Why, Dr. Cameron
could not himself have told without a moment's
retrospection. “Attached to me?" he somewhat
helplessly repeated.
“Why, yes, sir, you are his dearest friend, are
you not ?"
The blood which mounted to the doctor's brow
was his only reply. She at once became strangely
confused.


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
349
"I-I thought you were. I-I was sure you held
the dearest place in his heart; your name is
Cameron is it not?".
He bowed, but did not speak. He could not.
Such a flood of sudden doubt and harrowing sus-
picion rushed upon him with her words.
“ Then I am sure," persisted the widow, “ that
he thinks a great deal of you, sir; if I had not been,
I should have been more careful what I said to you.
For I promised Mr. Gryce-a detective, sir, and a
very smart man-that I would say nothing more
than I could help, about Dr. Molesworth and his
unaccountable absence. And I am sure I have kept
my word, for not a hint of it has got into the papers
so far. But you, sir, have superior claims, as I
happen to know, and—".
“May I ask you to explain yourself,” the doctor
broke in. “I was not aware that Dr. Molesworth
cherished for me any particular regard. But if he
did "
“Oh, I know he did. Shall I tell you how I
know it? I may have to blush a little, but that
won't matter. You have lived long enough to
know that a woman has some weaknesses and
amongst them curiosity. I do not pretend to be
better than others of my sex, though it is not often
I stoop to read other persons' letters."
Her visitor had turned quite pale now. He
lifted his hand, and for a moment looked as if half


350
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
inclined to stop the conversation. But he changed
his mind, and listened quite intently while she went
on to say:
“We had an accident in front of our house the
other day. A man fell from a cart and hit his
head on the curb-stone quite heavily. Of course
Dr. Molesworth was called out to attend to him,
and as the man was bleeding profusely, he went in.
stantly and without waiting to lock his desk or
door or anything. While he was gone, I had occa-
sion to go into his room, and in passing by his desk,
I saw an unfinished letter lying there under a paper
weight. As his letters were of no interest to me I
never thought of reading it, and was going hurriedly
out when my eye fell on a word,-a single word-
that roused my curiosity to such a pitch that I could
not help stopping to see why Dr. Molesworth made
use of it. I know it was very reprehensible, but
when I tell you that word was love -".
Dr. Cameron sprang in haste to his feet. She
did not know that she was talking about Mrs.
Cameron's former lover, but he did, and felt that it
was impossible for him to listen any further to
these confidences.
“I am obliged to you," he cried, “but I ought
not to hear this. I—"
But here the widow laughed outright.
“Bless you,” she ejaculated, “there is no harm in
what I was going to say. The letter was written
to you,"


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
351
"To me?"
“Yes, sir ; I saw the name of Cameron plainly at
the top; it showed just beyond the paper-weight
which covered up most of the writing. Dear Dr.
Cameron, I suppose it was, but at that time I
thought it must be, Dear Miss Cameron (though
who she was I could not imagine), for the few words
I saw below were very affectionate, more so than is
usual, from a man to a man, especially when the
writer is a person like Dr. Molesworth. As, for in-
stance, these sentences, which I remember because
they struck me so painfully, thinking as I did that
it was some woman he was writing to. 'I have
never known before what it was to regard any
human being more than my work or my ambition.
What I called love was a shadow, a vanity. This
only is the one great feeling of my life and if it
seems unmanly and presumptuous in me to own it,
you will pardon me for the sake of what I have done
to preserve you in happiness and honor. Love
makes light of sacrifice, and it is love I have felt for
you, ever since_ He did not say when, for just
then the interruption came, but you probably can
finish out the sentence even if you never got the
letter. It is quite a relief to find it was not written
to a woman.”
Dr. Cameron's pent up feelings found vent in a
short, sharp laugh. Not written to a woman? O,
what judgment this good Mrs. Olney had! What
penetration! How well she knew the man she called


352
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
honorable and kind, and how true was her knowledge
of the object of his affections. Dr. Cameron ground
his nails into the palms of his hands to preserve his
composure, and made his adieux with proper cour-
tesy, though the demon of jealousy was tearing at
his heart-strings with a force that threatened to out-
vie all the agonies of shame and suspense which had
hitherto been his portion. For he did not mistake
the direction of that letter for an instant. He knew
who it was intended for, and he knew what manner
of love it was which prompted it. The passion
which had died down into comparative nothingness
at the sight of its object in the role of an humble
dressmaker, had revived again and burned with
triple force, now that she had recovered her pris-
tine glory, and shone before all men's eyes in the
light of her beauty, wealth, and fashion. Such
changes of feeling were not uncommon in men, and
Dr. Cameron did not wonder that they had occurred
to the cold, ambitious spirit of Julius Molesworth.
But he did wonder and secretely madden at the
perfidy shown in expressing them, now that she was
carried beyond his reach, and had become through his
very indifference, the wife of another. The words,
the insinuations of the inspector came back to him as
he mused, and he felt himself a fool that he had for
a moment supposed that such breaks as had occurred
between her and Molesworth, were necessarily last-
ing, even though a third party had stepped in be-
tween them with his inalienable rights as husband


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
353
and guardian. In his present tumult of feeling he
was ready to believe that she had received this
letter, that she responded to its passion, that all her
professions of love and devotion to himself had been
the miserable subterfuges of a guilty nature, hiding
its predilections under a garb of deceitful smiles
and equally deceitful tears.
But before he had walked a block, his reason-or
was it his irresistible love for her-returned to him.
He remembered the pure face shining upward from
amid its pillows, in a silent but ever stirring appeal,
and as it was in its undeniable sweetness the best
refutation in his eyes of the direful suspicions by
which the police had surrounded her, so it was now
the most forcible contradiction he could have of his
own secret accusations and dread. As he recalled
it line by line, he felt that truth lay hidden be-
neath it; that whatever her past errors or deceits,
she was robed now in honesty and faithful love
for her husband. That is, he thought he felt it,
thought he knew it, but what man can be sure of
himself when once that insidious reptile called doubt,
has crawled into the sacred nest of his affections.
Though it may not rear its head, it ever lies dor-
mant there, and noble is the soul, mighty the will
that can ignore its hideous presence.
At this moment, however, of renewed confidence,
the doctor could do this; and, relieved from his
first unbearable sensations, he trod on his way, with
gleams of gentle feeling towards the woman so mer-
33


354
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
cilessly threatened in every direction. But for
Molesworth his breast held nothing but hardness
and an implacable resolution to follow him to his
hidden retreat and wrench from him by force if not
persuasion, both the secret desired by the police
and the fact of Genevieve's innocence as regarded
his base and uncalled-for renewal of their old com-
munications. The. barb which had unconsciously
been held by Dr. Cameron's strong hand ever since
he knew the humiliating facts of Genevieve's
former passion, had received its venom in the dis-
covery he had just made, and woe now to the breast
in which it was ultimately destined to lodge.
The real source from which he expected the in-
formation which would direct him towards the
quarter in which his adversary was to be found,
was the poor woman of whose remarkable case and
Dr. Molesworth's peculiar treatment of it, we have
already spoken. She, if anyone, would be in pos-
session of the fugitive's confidence. For though
she had greatly improved under his care, she was
not yet entirely well, and to one of Dr. Moles-
worth's ambition, the interest surrounding a case
that promised him fortune and fame must be one
he could not entirely drop, even if in its retaining
he ran that risk of discovery which every other
movement of his betrayed he was anxious to avoid.
To the hospital, then, Dr. Cameron now pro-
ceeded, and being the physician who had formerly
taken Dr. Molesworth's place in the latter's forced


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
355
and necessary absence, he was allowed immediate
access to the poor patient, who looked exceedingly
grateful to see him.
“O did you know, docther, I was dyin' for a
look at ye?” she asked, with an accent which
proved that however much she owed to the other
physician's skill, her heart had been touched by Dr.
Cameron's soothing, genial ways. “It's many a
day since you've come to see me and I'm that
thankful to ye for coming now if only to see how
well I'm doin'. Shure its great luck I've had be-
tween the two of ye since I came to this blessed
spot. I feel as if the least lift now would raise me
right up out of my bed and on to me two feet, and,
Lord love ye, the day was when I was that far
gone that I was wonderin' how many yards of good
stuff it would take for m'shroud. It was that
near to the cemetery I was. But you're looking
pale, sir, the work is too much for ye. Ain't I
right now? And the beautiful lady, your wife, how
is she? Well, I'm thinkin'?”.
“No," was the grave response, “she is not as
well as you are, Bridget. But I have not time to
talk about her, much as I am concerned. I am on
my way to visit Dr. Molesworth and I just stopped
in to see how you were that I might tell him."
“Oh, I'm that well, sir," she began, “ that shure
I'll be walkin' soon;" and she looked cautiously
about her, before adding, “then you know where
he's gone. It's good luck that you do, so it is.


356
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Nobody here knows a bit of him at all. They tell
me he's sick again, and it isn't for the likes o’ me to
say a word agin them. It's all I can do for him,
sir, and little enough it is, when he's done so
much for me. I'm sure you'll say I'm right, doc-
ther."
Dr. Cameron bowed his head in assent, but he
felt strangely guilty in doing so. After all, what
did he want of this woman but a betrayal of her
benefactor's confidence.
“I've been thinkin'," she muttered, they don't look
after me so well now, that he's away and can't come
in and catch thim. I don't get me medicine reglar.
He said it was somebody's sickness took him away,
and that I wasn't to go agin his orders, no matter
what any one of them said; and when I was well
and got out I was to sind word to him. Let him be
aisey for so I will if I can make out what he wrote
for me; bless him, I have to study a bit to read
the best o' writin' and, the Lord forgive me, his is
that crooked I can't make out a 'd' from a 't.'
Would you mind tellin' me now if it's Yonkers or
Orange he's gone to, for it looks like both or aither.
I suppose though they would be obligin' enough to
send it right if I wrote it wrong, but I'm thinkin' I
would be more aisey in me mind to have it go
right to wanst, and then there'll be no delay-do
you mind, docther dear?”
Again the doctor felt forced to bow, and he
would have been glad indeed if he could have


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
357
ended his answer there. But her inquiring look
demanded more, as did his own ignorance, so tramp-
ling down his natural instincts, which were all in the
way of open and honorable dealing, he said :
“But I am in the same dilemma as you, Bridget,
I don't know whether it is Yonkers or Orange. If
you will let me read the address he gave you, I
will see if I can make it out. He ought to have
written it plain enough for you to read, however
careless he may have been with other folks."
“He told me not a one was to see it at all," she
remarked, as her hand stole somewhat hesitatingly
under her pillow; "and said, lookin' me right in the
eye, that if it was found I wasn't to tell who wrote
it. But shure he didn't mean you, docther, for
you're his friend and knows the medicines as well
as he does himself.”
“No, he could not have meant me," acquiesced
the doctor, thinking how little Dr. Molesworth
could really know of the reasons he would have
for following him. And with small consciousness
now of the humiliating part he was playing, in his
intense desire to see those forbidden lines, he
reached out his hand and took the slip from the
poor woman's hand.
A single glance sufficed. Informing poor Bridget,
that it was neither Yonkers nor Orange, but H- ,
he lent himself for a few minutes to a careful con-
sideration of her condition, and when satisfied that
she was indeed doing well, and likely to recover,


360
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“No, but I know him and want to see him."
“You will have to go to his house, then. I don't
know any such person.”
The postmaster was evidently sincere, and Dr.
Cameron drew back, much disappointed. He was
conscious of having made a mistake, and for some
few minutes lingered in the postoffice in the hope
that Dr. Molesworth would stray in. But the
attention which his tall and elegant figure soon
attracted, reminded him that he was not an incon-
spicuous figure in this small town, and that if he
hoped to see Julius Molesworth enter the post-
office he must himself leave it. He accordingly.
stepped into the street, and finding it quite neces-
sary to have a short confab with himself, he pro-
ceeded to walk about the town. As he went he
wondered in which, if any, of the houses he passed
could be found the man for whom he was in search,
till suddenly a second realization came, that, for
aught he knew, the fugitive might be peering upon
him from behind any of the closed blinds, which
met his eye on every side ; and that by this useless
parade of himself, he was possibly cutting short all
hope of the encounter he was so earnestly seeking.
“Were I only shorter and of a type similar to
some of the men I see about here," he thought, “I
might circulate where I would without causing
remark; like that poor devil behind me, for in-
stance, whose face if seen would be forgotten next
minute.” And he cast a look that was almost wist.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
361
ful at a lounging, indifferent sort of fellow who,
with no apparent aim in life, was slowly shuffling
along from one shop-window to another. “A detec-
tive," decided the doctor, “should have no expres-
sion and seemingly no individuality; neither should
he who attempts to play the part of one."
But as this convenient non-individuality was im-
possible in his case, he soon overcame his momen-
tary disheartenment, and entering the tavern which
he had now reached, he ensconced himself, in a
quiet nook, that he might consider, without pros-
pect of interruption, what course he had better pur-
sue to gain the end he had in view. The lounger
came into the room too, but that did not disturb
his meditations, which were now thoroughly en-
grossed by the subject in hand.
• Where should he go to learn if a man, correspond.
ing to Julius Molesworth in appearance, had lately
come into town? To the landlord of the tavern in
which he was? Possibly ; but he would be more
apt to obtain the knowledge he sought, from the
railroad officials and the drivers of the hacks which
conveyed the passengers from the depot into town.
But he hated to apply to them. Indeed he shrank
from any inquiries that would bring his pursuit into
publicity, and he had not the skill, and as we have
said, the physique, to gain the information he
wished without it. Did he but know one person
in town, or had he but thought to have asked the
police for some assistance in this part of his under-


362
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
taking! But he was alone, and he must work out
his problem unaided. How then could he discover
Molesworth without disclosing his personal interest
in finding him? Contemplation brought but one
suggestion, and that held so little hope, he was
ready to discard it without trial. But he did not.
As drowning men clutch at straws, so he grasped at
anything which held a possibility of success. The
suggestion was this: Dr Molesworth, if a fugitive,
in hiding, must have one intense interest linking
him to New York and its local news, and that was
the desire to know what progress the police were
making in the affair in which he was so vitally inter-
ested. He would therefore feel the necessity of
seeing the New York dailies, and would, by secret
measures if not by open ones, bring himself in con-
tact with them. Now where were the New York
dailies to be found ? That question he could ask
with impunity.
He found that there was but one place where
they could be bought, and to that place he went
with his first inquiries. Had any new-comer in
town taken to buying a New York paper lately?
The dealer knew of no such person. Had he had
any fresh orders for the Herald or Times, within
the last week, say? Why, Yes. Old James Lewis
had suddenly taken to reading the news and came
every day for the New York Herald. And who
was old James Lewis ? A farmer who lived some
two miles out on the west road.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
363
Dr. Cameron remembered the name, and later,
after having eaten his supper, asked some off-hand
questions about this person, which resulted in satis-
fying him that the possibility of Julius Molesworth
being in his house was great. There was some-
one besides the regular family staying with
him—who, nobody seemed to know; and as Dr.
Cameron did not care to seem interested in this
person, but only in James Lewis, he did not like
to press the point, anxious as he was to establish:
it. He felt it was almost the height of folly to go
so far on such an uncertainty, and yet he had almost
made up his mind to do it, though it was Saturday
night and the distance considerable ; but a remark
that was uttered in his hearing a few minutes later
rather shook his determination. It was to the ef-
fect that James Lewis was always down to meeting
on Sunday, no matter what the weather was. If
this was so, the doctor might save himself a very
unnecessary journey. He resolved to wait till the
next day, and in the meantime to sound the livery-
stable men.
The evening passed, how, he scarcely knew. He
had taken a room at the tavern, and while study-
ing to awaken as little curiosity as possible, still
took advantage of the darkness to drop into one or
two places about town where there was likely to be
talk of a more or less gossipy nature. For in-
stance, he stepped into the blacksmith's shop which
he chanced to find open, and stood, a tall and


364
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
mysterious figure, in the dim background, while the
several men and boys, grouped about the fire, dis-
coursed town-topics and made vague prognostica-
tions in regard to the weather. What good he ex-
pected from this move it would have been hard to
tell ; certainly he had no right to expect any, and
was as much surprised as it was possible to be, when
a drawling voice uttered over his shoulder,
“ That man at Jem Lewis's is an odd un."
· As the tone employed had been loud, the remark
was evidently intended not for him but for the
group in the centre of the smithy. More and more
astonished, he stole a look behind him and saw the
slouching form of a man, who, as he looked, lounged
“What do you say?” asked the blacksmith,
turning a pair of curious eyes towards the new-
comer.
" I say that that ere man at Jem Lewis's is an odd
un."
“What man?” cried one voice. And, “Who are
you ?” cried another.
“I am a fellow as peddles small ware,” cried the
interloper, carelessly. “ I've been about some, and
I say as a contribute to this highly intellectooal
conversaish that the man what boards at Jem
Lewis' farm-house is a curious cuss."
“Then you show you don't know anything
about it," came in convincing tones from the man
who stood next to him. “ There is nothing curious


366
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Isn't Mrs. Hunter's house the next one to Jem
Lewis?” carelessly interposed the pedler.
“Yes, of course, only a mile between them.”
“Then that's how I got the places mixed," said
he, slowly turning himself about towards the door.
Dr. Cameron, who was watching, instantly left the
smithy, and after a little strolling through the
streets entered the livery stable. Here he made
arrangements for the use of a horse and buggy on
the following day, and was just meditating whether
he should venture upon a question or two, when
that same drawling voice was heard again over his
shoulder, saying :
" Is that man still stopping at Hunter's do you
know ??
"Can't say," answered the livery stable keeper.
“I havn't heard of his going away."
"I want to know because I've got a bundle for
him, shirts and things what Mrs. Hunter got me
to buy in Albany. Going up that way to-
morrow?”
"Don't know," with a side glance at Dr. Cam.
eron, who, convinced that this pedler, as he called
himself, was likely to be his good angel, stood at
the door slowly fitting on his gloves.
“Mrs. Hunter made me promise I'd get the
things out there before Monday morning ; but I
can't kill myself. Does Mrs. Hunter come this
way to church ?"
“Guess not; never see her here."


THE TWO DOCTORS.
367
“How about Jem Lewis, is he one of the accom.
modating kind ?”
“Rather: he gets all her mail, I believe, and
carries a paper out there every day, that I know."
" Then I'll see Jem Lewis when he comes into
church to-morrow. You don't happen to know
what the name of this strange gentleman may be,
do you, now?"
“No; I drove him out there, but he didn't tell
me his family affairs.”
“ Didn't he now? Wa'al, wa'al, its mighty par-
ticular some folks be. Now I'd just take pleas-
ure in telling you all I know. Was he a dark
man?”
“Very dark.'
“ That's good; I thought he was dark; I only
caught the least glimpse of him through an open
door, but I was sure he was dark. You see I'm par.
ticular about it for I had ties to buy and I bought
em for a dark man. Got a long beard ?"
“No, nor a short one. His face is as smooth as
my hand.”
“Better and better, them ties will be sure to suit.
Don't you think so, mister ?” he asked, as he
passed Dr. Cameron on his way out.
But before that gentleman could reply, the odd.
shuffling figure was gone ; and full of thought and
question, the doctor made his way into the street
and so back to the tavern, asking himself whether
his purpose in town had been divined or whether


368
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
all that had occurred was a mere coincidence, as
strange as it was acceptable.
The next day was none too pleasant, and as he
rose with a blinding headache, he allowed himself
to rest through the morning, thinking he would be
able to start upon his undertaking by noon. But
it was three o'clock before he felt fit to drive a
team. At three o'clock, therefore, he started, and
at about four approached a farm-house which from
its appearance and location he took to be that be-
longing to the Widow Hunter. He saw it first from
the brow of a small hill, and stopped his horse to
contemplate it and also to gain some control over
his feelings at sight of the imagined retreat of his
enemy. The next moment he drove on, but the
impression made by the mass of gray sky, and that
one low white house with its line of smoke rising
up against the dull background of the wintry land-
scape, filled him with an unaccountable chill fór
which he could not at that instant account. A
vague foreboding for the first time seized him
which seemed in some way to be connected with
the penetrating wind and the menacing skies, and
though he recognized it as a weakness, he had half
a mind to turn around and go back, rather than
face the threatening something hidden in that
seemingly harmless landscape before him.
But such feelings vanish before an all absorbing
duty, and by the time he found himself within a
stone's throw of the house. he had forgotten every.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
369
thing but that he was on the verge of an interview
from which he hoped to depart a relieved and con.
tented man.
The house was the ordinary white frame one
which we see so thickly scattered amongst our
native hills and valleys. It had a front entrance
and a rear one, and the usual yard behind which
stretched fields and meadows with here and there a
grove of leafless trees. The windows were few, but
those looking towards that part of the road from
which he approached were shutterless and he had an
uneasy sense of having been seen, though there was
no movement visible at any of the casements, and
saving the thin line of smoke slanting away from
the solitary chimney, there was no sign of human
presence in or about the premises.
“If I should have been recognized I" he thought,
with a sudden recollection of the real relations in
which he and this Molesworth stood.
But this possibility seemed so small that even his
uneasy mind refused to entertain it, and driving up
rapidly to the front of the house he leaped to the
ground, and without stopping to tie his horse,
which, by the way, he had been told would stand for
any length of time, he advanced hurriedly to the
door and knocked. If he had not been seen from
the side he was certain that he would not be from
the front, as the windows facing the road were pro-
tected by blinds, all of which were as tightly closed


370
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
as if they were never expected to open again. He
nevertheless anticipated a speedy entrance.
But this pleasing hope lessened moment by mo.
ment as no answer came to his first or his second
knock. Nor did the third bring any response,
though it was forcible enough 'to shake the door
on its hinges. Those within had evidently made
up their minds not to hear him, and as this fact be-
came apparent he felt a sense of desolation sweep
over him, which the ever lowering sky and the stretch
of dismal landscape before him did not tend to
mitigate. It seemed as if the wind became more
searching, piercing even to his heart and its secrets,
while the silence, which was anything but a Sunday
one in the shivering effect it had upon the nerves,
filled him with a renewal of those vague appre-
hensions for which there seemed so little reason
in nature.
A fourth and still heavier knock ended his efforts
to gain admittance at the front door. If there was
no one at home (which he did not believe) he was
but wasting his time here; while if the inmates
were simply determined not to admit him, all the
knocking in the world would not make them
change their minds. So leaving the front door, he
walked determinedly around the house to the back
entrance, and finding it unlocked, knocked once out
of politeness, and without waiting for the response
he had so little right to expect, lifted the latch and
walked in.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
371
An empty room opened before him ; that is, there
was no one in it, though from the preparations vis-
ible on a table before him and from the somewhat
savory smell that arose from the various pots and
pans steaming on the stove, he gathered there was
some one in the house in the large and comfortable
sitting-room of which he caught a glimpse through
the half open door at his right.
Resolved not to stop at anything, now that he had
entered the house, he gave a sharp rap at this door,
and with just an instant's delay, followed it by a
quick entrance that disturbed no one. For this
room like the back one was entirely empty, and he
found himself staring with sinking heart and a dis-
couraged spirit at a collection of stiff photographs in
pine cone frames on a mantel shelf that reached
nearly to the low ceiling. No evidence here or
anywhere in the room, of that presence, to encoun-
ter which he had come so far and was now risk-
ing so much in the way of politeness and habitual
self-respect.
He was still standing there, hesitating whether to
pursue his researches into the ghostly parlor, when
he heard a sudden step, then the sound of a door
hurriedly opened and shut, and then-could he be-
lieve his ears ? the tramp of a man's foot on the
path without, followed by the noise of wheels, as
if the horse and buggy he had left in front was be-
ing tampered with. Struck with consternation but
not robbed entirely of his self-possession, he ignored


372
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
all the proprieties, and bounding forward into the
hall, he reached the front door and flung it open.
Dr. Molesworth, with hat in hand and overcoat on
his arm, was just jumping into the buggy.
“For Heaven's sake, Molesworth !” cried the
doctor, holding out his arms, as if in that way he
could stop that stern and determined man.
But the other only waved his hand, and thrusting
on his hat, took the lines and speedily drove away.
As he did so Dr. Cameron called out once more,
“If you are a man, come back and face me, but if
you are a coward '
The words were lost in the clatter of the horse's
heels.
Dr. Cameron stepped into the house and sunk
helplessly on the first seat he found there. So Jul-
ius Molesworth was a coward as well as a knave,
and was not above the meanest of tricks to save
himself from an encounter that his conscience told
him could bode him no good. Dr. Cameron
writhed with shame and impotent rage as he
thought of it, and could have cursed his folly for
the lack of precaution he had shown in leaving his
horse within reach of the pursued fugitive. But
who could have calculated upon such an expedient
being employed by a man for whom he had once
done an actual service; though to be sure he
had unwittingly robbed him of his bride and been
unwittingly robbed of her affections in return.


THE TWO DOCTORS. : 373
The direction taken by Dr. Molesworth in his
Alight had been away from town. This added to
the perplexity of Dr. Cameron, who saw himself left
at a strange house in the face of a coming storm,
and with no means of return to his comfortable
quarters or of pursuit of the man whose dastardly
Aight proved him to be even more of a factor than
he had supposed in the great mystery which in.
volved not only his own honor but that of a
beloved and stricken wife.
His thoughts were interrupted in a characteristic
manner.
“Well!” exclaimed a voice from the doorway,
" and what does this mean?"
He rose, turned and faced a strongly-built, some.
what energetic middle-aged woman whose air and
attitude bespoke her to be the mistress of the
house.
“Ah, madam, excuse me," said he, giving her
such a bow as she had probably never before
received. “You find me an unwelcome intruder
into your home. I came to see the gentleman who
has been boarding with you, and he has played me
the trick of running off with my horse and buggy,
without giving me so much as an opportunity of
telling him my business."
“ He is a smart un," was all the answer he re.
ceived, as the woman strode into the room and
stood peering out of one of the side windows that
overlooked the approach from the town.


374
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
.
The doctor, foreseeing no sympathy here, at once
turned away towards the door.
“ It is a long walk to town," he remarked, “but
I must at once undertake it if only to procure
means to follow the man I have come here to see.”
“ You won't catch him," said she.
“ Why?”
“Because it is going to storm. It is going to
storm so that the man who has half an hour's start
will never be come up with by the person who
chooses to follow him."
Dr. Cameron laughed.
“You speak as if it were January and we were
in the wilds of some wilderness instead of being not
a hundred miles from New York and in a time of
year when winds blow and snow scurries but does
not pack or drift."
“You are a city man and you don't know country
weather. Besides, this storm will beat any storm
that has been in these parts for years. I don't
know much but I know what such a sky as that
means, and so will you before another twenty-four
hours have gone over your head."
Moved by these words, Dr. Cameron mechani.
cally cast a glance from the window before which
she was standing. But he did not see the sky, for
his attention was immediately diverted by the sight
of a team descending the hill towards the house.
The widow had evidently seen it too, for she turned
towards him impressively and began to offer him the


THE TWO DOCTORS.
375
on alall.
hospitalities of her house as if anxious to distract
his attention from the coming team. His caution
at once took alarm.
“Who is that coming ?” he asked.
“O that is only Jem Lewis coming home from
church. He lives in the next house down there."
“But he has a team and that team may be
hired,” exclaimed the doctor, hurriedly opening the
front door.
The widow tried to stop him, but she soon saw
it was of no avail; the approaching farmer had
already slackened the pace of his horse and in a
few minutes more had actually stopped before the
door. There were two men in the old-fashioned
vehicle, and Dr. Cameron did not know whether to
be surprised or not when he saw that one of them
was the ubiquitous pedler.
“ Haloo, missus," was this person's greeting.
But next minute he was silent as the doctor uttered,
breathlessly,
“My horse and buggy have been run away with
from before my very eyes. I want to follow the
thief. Will you drive me over this road? I will
pay you well for the service. That horse of yours
looks as if she could travel.”
“ Wa'al she can,” acknowledged the farmer, not
without some satisfaction in his tone, “but you see
as how it is Sunday—'
“You havn't heard my terms."


376
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ And likely to snow right smart-"
“I will pay well, I say.”
“And there are three of us,"
“Let me take the team then, I will buy it here
and now."
The farmer opened his eyes.
“ You are in a goodish hurry,” said he.
“Will you sell it ? "
“No. I am a church member and I don't bar-
gain on Sundays. But if this yere chap here will
give you his place—What sort of a man was it as
took your horse ?"
“ The boarder here; a man I know. Don't stop
to talk but decide at once. Will you drive me or
shall I go back to town for a man that will."
“O I'll drive you ; but its curus. That man?
Why I thought he never stepped foot out of
door.
Meanwhile the widow stood on the steps looking
anxious, and the pedler, with eyes that showed snap
for once, put one foot out of the wagon and drew it!
back.
“Yere promised to take me as far as yere went,”
he declared to the farmer“ and I'm disposin to
keep you to your word. But I don't weigh much;
the mare'll never feel me. Jump in, general, we'll
soon clear the ground between us and that scamp.”
The farmer still demurred; but upon Dr.
Cameron's making a move to enter the wagon, he


THE TWO DOCTORS.
377
hitched himself along and gave him part of his
seat. Then deliberately taking up the reins, he ob-
served,
“This is a pretty ending of this Sunday's ser.
mon," and started up the mare.


XXIX.
ESCAPE.
It had seemed to these three but a triling matter
to overtake this man and his sorry horse, but an
hour's riding soon convinced them that they had a
task of more difficulty before them than they had
anticipated. For, in the first place, Dr. Molesworth
had sufficient start of them to be out of view, which,
in that thinly settled portion of the town, was a great
advantage, as they were thus robbed of all means
of determining whether he had kept to the main
road or taken one of the many side ones that were
continually branching off from it. Then the dark-
ness was fast settling down, and the storm prog-
nosticated by Mrs. Hunter began to make itself
felt in a slight drizzle that filled the air with damp.
ness and discomfort.
Under these circumstances the farmer soon be-
came tired of the business he had undertaken and
after several hints to that effect, finally drew up
his horse and expressed his intention of returning
home.
But the doctor, who thought he saw the top
of a buggy in the distance, renewed his prayers
378


THE TWO DOCTORS.
379
and protestations, which being seconded by the
pedler, whose blood seemed really to have been
stirred by this chase, Mr. Lewis finally consented
to drive them as far as a certain house, where if
they could get a man to take them further, well and
good, if not he would carry them back to his own
home. But more than this he would not promise.
They could not blame him. The wind was blow-
ing furiously and the horse showed signs of dis-
couragement, so they accepted the alternative given
them and drove as rapidly as possible to the house
he had pointed out.
“Has a fellow been by here in Hyde's new
buggy?" was the shout they sent forth as they
neared the spot and saw a man battling to shut the
barn door against the wind.
The man nodded and pointed down the road,
then turned again to his task. Dr. Cameron drew
a silver dollar from his pocket, and leaping to the
ground, vaulted the fence and approached the man.
“This much to tell me what he said,” he cried,
pushing the dollar under the man's nose.
The man looked at it, shook his head and reluc-
tantly admitted that the gentleman had said noth-
ing.
Dr. Cameron who had caught the sparkle of cu-
pidity in the man's eye at the sight of the coin, im.
mediately cried,
“Five times this then, for a team to pursue him,
This man's horse is worn out.”


380
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“And so would mine be in ten minutes. Phew!
but this is a gale!”
“The horse ahead will give out sooner than
yours. Come, earn a cent while you can. It may
not be over a ten minutes' job.”
“That's so," the man answered, reflectively, giv-
ing another tug at the doors and then flinging them
open impulsively. “ Step in, sir, out of the wind.
I'll harness up in a minute. But it's five dollars
whether we overtake the chap or not?"
“Yes, if you go as far as you can and don't leave
me in the road when you're tired."
“Never fear, I'll take you into town anyhow.”
And then Dr. Cameron learned they were on a fine
but unfrequented road, which curving about on it.
self led back to H— town, which he had all the
time supposed to be at his back.
“And how far is it from here to the tavern?"
he asked.
“Five miles if you go through S
Three
if you turn off into H- direct.”
“Very good, we will go as the man ahead
goes, and that won't be through S--, I am
sure. And with a somewhat apprehensive look
at the sky, he left the barn to tell of his success
to the couple awaiting him.
He found only Farmer Lewis there.
“Where is the pedler ?” he inquired.
“Gone in to warm himself. Says he has had
enough of this kind of thing. I reckon he will


THE TWO DOCTORS.
381
stay where he is to-night. Is Noyes going to
lend you his horse ?"
“Yes; he is harnessing now."
“I shouldn't have reckoned on his being such
a fool. But it is no business of mine. My busi-
ness is to get back to my old woman before my
mare gives out. Good-bye ; you won't catch that
fellow ahead near as quick as you will a cold.”
And with this Parthian shot, he turned his team
about and disappeared in the darkness before the
doctor could utter his thanks.
The minutes that Dr. Cameron now had to
wait were few, but they seemed interminable.
When the new horse and team did at length make
their appearance, there was the pedler coming too,
eager and anxious as ever to see the affair out.
“Now don't say you don't want me," he cried, as
the doctor opened his lips in protest. “If you
won't take me inside I must run along at the back,
for I'm going into H-- to-night if I have to trust
to my two feet to carry me.”
Was this the shumbling, shuffling ne'er-do-weel
of the evening before? Dr. Cameron began to
doubt him, and questioned in his own mind as to
whether this seeming pedler could be a friend of
the enemy, bound to delay him. But upon a sec-
ond look he found the man so careless, so good-
humored and so free from all suspicious appearance,
that he had not the heart to deny him a seat in the
buggy, though he knew he was being imposed upon


382
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
and was under no claim to burden himself with this
audacious intruder. Meanwhile the wind was in-
creasing every minute, and the rain falling like a
thick veil over the landscape.
Their new driver meant business. Straight
ahead he went, without talk or delay.
“You want to catch that feller,” he cried ; “ wa'al
we'ell git him.”
But they rode on and on without coming up
with buggy or vehicle of any kind. There were
times when they thought they heard the sound of
wheels ahead of them, but the wind was blowing so
fiercely that they could not be sure of any thing.
When they reached the place where the roads di.
vided they paused for consultation.
“ I'm sure he won't go on to S- if his home is
in H- " ventured Noyes. “A dog wouldn't go
round a barn without cause to-night."
“ Does he live in H- , sir?”.
“No, he lives nowhere about here; what he
wants is to get away from me. Now, will he think
he can do it better by keeping on the road, or will
he take the horse he has borrowed back into
town?"
“That's the question. If he knows about the
Sunday train that goes through S-at midnight,
he may think he can best escape that way. If he
don't-"
“A train ? A Sunday train going south ?" ejac-
ulated the doctor.


384
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
glad to have seen the pedler disappear with him.
But this person was evidently too comfortable in
the warm corner he had at once appropriated upon
entering the house, to be easily dislodged; so the
doctor, ignoring him, comforted himself with a
good supper, and then choosing as retired a spot
as he could find, sat down to wait the reappear-
ance of Julius Molesworth.
But he had scarcely settled himself into some.
thing like comfort when he asked himself if he were
doing the wisest thing he could in staying there.
He began to think not. He remembered Dr.
Molesworth's former trick and felt that he was
amply capable of another.
What if the horse and buggy had been left there
as a lure while he himself sped far away. As the
doctor contemplated this possibility he grew too
uneasy to sit still, and rising, went out again to
take a look at the weather. He found it very un.
propitious. The drizzle had become rain and the
wind was still blowing. In the driving wet, the
horse he had hired in H- stood shivering, and
as he contemplated it he thought of the satchel he
had left at the tavern and at once took a resolution
to drive back to H-- and procure it. The dis-
tance was not long in a direct line and he would
not only have the satisfaction of returning the
horse, but of quieting any suspicions on the part of
Molesworth if, as he feared, he were in league with


THE TWO DOCTORS.
385
the hotel clerk and knew or would soon know that
his pursuer was at his heels.
Returning, therefore, to the room he had left,
he informed the clerk that the team in front of the
house was in reality his and explained as much of
the circumstances as he thought necessary. Then
perceiving that his story was credited, expressed
his intention of driving the horse back to H--,
and without waiting for any man's demur, pro-
ceeded to carry out his resolution on the spot.
The pedler, looking a little disappointed, slouched
to the door as he drove off.
“Coming back, mister? ” he shouted.
Dr. Cameron may have heard him but if so, he
neglected to answer.
His plan was to ride to H- , procure his satchel,
pay his bills, restore the horse, and board the same
train at H- which he expected Molesworth to
take at S-, He would thus be on hand to greet
the fugitive when he entered the cars; or if through
some accident or trickery that gentleman failed to
appear, he could himself get off at S--, and so
continue his search on the spot where his enemy
had last been seen.
But when he arrived at H- he found to his
intense chagrin that this especial train did not stop
there, and that if he proposed to be on hand to hin-
der Molesworth taking it at SM-, he must hire
another horse and immediately return to the town
he had so inconsiderately left. But this to his own


XXX.
THE GREAT STORM.
It was a night to be long remembered by a sleep
less man. Such wind ! such driving of snow and
sleet ! such swaying and crackling of trees above a
roof that literally rocked to and fro in the gale! If
he rose and looked out, nothing but a hurly burly
of snow met his eyes; if he calmed himself and lay
down, all the cries and shrieks of pandemonium
seemed to hurtle in his ears.
When daylight finally came, and with it the sum.
mons to rise, the view he saw from his window was
certainly enough to daunt even his courageous
spirit. There was not only snow, but such piles of
it that all landmarks had disappeared, and he
seemed to be in a different place from the one he
looked out upon the day before. And the wind,
instead of abating, appeared to have increased,
while the snow still fell with that unremitting per-
sistency which gives promise of a whole day of
storm.
A midwinter storm in March, and he on the
track of a man who in all probability had one train
the start of him. The thought exasperated him,
387


388
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
and calling every energy into play, he braved the
wind and fought his way to the station. Here he
found that the midnight train had passed at six,
and taking advantage of the telegraph operator
being on hand, he sent a message to the station-
master at S-- inquiring if a person of such and
such a description had taken that train for New
York. The answer came back, yes, and Dr. Cam-
eron, no longer conscious of the fury of the storm
or the hazards of travel, bought his ticket and sat
down to wait for the early express.
But this train, like its predecessor, was also late,
and he lost three hours at the start. These, how-
ever, did not count for much as he soon found; for
the difficulties of the road increased so rapidly that
the engine experienced the greatest difficulty in
cutting its way through the ever accumulating
drifts, and so halted and labored that hours were
consumed in a passage usually occupying but a few
minutes.
“Fate is against me,” thought Dr. Cameron, as
the morning waned into afternoon, and they were
yet miles from New York. “I have not only lost
my man, but myself. I feel like a wayfarer in a
solitary wilderness.”
For though he was not the only occupant of the
car in which he sat, and he had but to lift his eyes
to perceive many anxious and perturbed faces, he
felt the pressure of his own misery too much to be
conscious of their presence, But as time still passed


THE TWO DOCTORS.
389
and nightfall began to descend, and with it the
increasing certainty that they would not be able to
struggle much longer against the drifts which filled
the cuts through which they were obliged to pass,
he began to remember there were others about him
who had their own anxieties and fears, and shaking
off the gloom that oppressed him, he looked up and
down the car with that gentle and sympathetic
glance which so easily secured him friends.
He found the car to be about half full of pas-
sengers, mainly men, but there were two or three
women amongst them, and strange to say, these
bore the prospect of a night of discomfort with
more apparent cheer than the men. Perhaps their
realization of the situation was less; perhaps their
frail bodies held sturdier souls. However that was,
Dr. Cameron felt himself touched, and escaping
from the thralldom of his own selfish thoughts, he
endeavored to enter into the interests of the mo-
ment.
He found the situation to be anything but en-
couraging. Though the engine was making her-
culean efforts, it advanced but slowly through the
huge drift it was endeavoring to pierce. At last
there came a shiver and a slow settling into quiet-
ude. Its efforts had ceased.
.“ Stalled!” cried one voice.
“In the loneliest part of the road!” exclaimed
another.
“ And night coming on," added a third.


390
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
The women said nothing, but looked at each
other. Probably they were thankful for their
lives.
“Let us see if a gang of men cannot do some-
thing with that drift," now suggested a sturdy in-
dividual, rising and moving towards the door.
“Where are your shovels ?" put in another.
“ Then it isn't a matter of one drift but fifty,"
cried another voice. “I am from the West, and I
can tell you—"
To escape what he could tell, and to reconnoitre
affairs for himself, Dr. Cameron went out on the plat-
form. But he did not stay long, the rushing wind
almost took him off his feet and he found him-
self forced to step back in order to recover himself.
Taking a deep breath, he made a fresh start and
this time succeeded in clinging long enough to the
brakes to perceive they were on a plane, naturally
level, but now piled high with mountains of snow.
If houses were near he could not see them nor were
there any signs of fences or roads. “Have we been
transported into Siberia," he thought.
Seeing one or two train-men on the ground be-
low, he asked them if they knew just where they
were and if there was any hope of procuring food
from some farm-house near by.
The answer was far from consoling. They knew
where they were well enough. They were on the
dreariest part of the river, between ---and --,


THE TWO DOCTORS.
391
No houses here, none nearer than three miles, unless
you except the Harvey cottage, where you would be
more likely to meet rebuff than welcome.
Rebuff on such a night! the doctor did not be-
lieve it. “And how far is the Harvey cottage ?"
he inquired.
“O, that's only a mile."
Only a mile! a mile seemed some distance
through the wilderness of snow-hillocks he saw be-
fore him.
“But there's no use going there. Old Harvey
wouldn't open his door to a dog and he likes them.
He's the darndest old hermit in these parts, and his
house is the queerest mouse-trap you ever see in
your life. Better stay on the train, sir." All this
shouted against a howling wind.
Dr. Cameron thought this last bit of advice good
and for some time was disposed to follow it, but as
the night settled and the cold became more and
more biting and intense, he began to ask himself if
these women must suffer hunger as well as cold,
and whether it would not be less painful to endure
the hardships of a vigorous battle with the snow,
than to sit in that comfortless car all night eat-
ing out his heart, as he would be sure to do if he
remained inactive. Waiting is hard enough when
one is in the possession of pleasant memories and
cheerful hopes, but when the least lapse into medi-
tation brings bitterest fears and terrible emotions,


392
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
quietude becomes intolerable, and one is willing to
risk all and every danger to escape it.
So having found three or four others who felt as
he did, he sought out the conductor, and asked
him in what direction the Harvey cottage lay, and
whether its owner was really so hard hearted as to
refuse bread to a band of storm-locked women and
children. The answer was an expressive shrug and
a short,
“ Better join the party from the forward car ; they
are going to try and reach the village, three miles
away.”
Dr. Cameron at once signified his acquiescence in
this plan and the result was that in a few minutes
the two parties had joined forces and started with
cheerful words and energetic promises, towards the
distant village. Was it a fool-hardy undertaking ?
There were some who were soon ready to say so,
for not only was the power of the sleet and wind
unprecedented in the experience of them all, but
the road was itself uncertain and the man they had
taken for their guide was the first to falter and
require the assistance of his comrades.
Then it was nearer night than any of them real-
ized, and the darkness of twilight soon added itself
to the general dimness made by the rushing, blind.
ing snow. Altogether the first half hour of strug-
gle was a desperate one, and had there been one
there who knew the route back, they would have


THE DARKENING CLOUD.
393
simultaneously returned ; but the only one who
could give them any guidance, was stiff and speech-
less and had to be drawn along by two of his hardi-
est companions. So they advanced, confident they
were headed right, though they could see nothing,
save here and there the trunk of a tree, against
which they more than once precipitated themselves
in their haste and indifference to all obstacles.
Dr. Cameron, who had never known hardship,
suffered bitterly under this strain. But his will was
indomitable and his purpose one to uphold the
taintest heart. He had started in the company of
two men whose faces he had liked, and who seemed
to have more vigor than the rest. But by the time
the dark had really set in, he found himself ahead
of these and joined to another stranger, who, seeing
him stop a moment for breath, thrust out an arm
and linked him to himself. This touch and the
evidence of fellow feeling which it gave, seemed to
work a miracle in him. He felt a goodly portion of
his strength revive, and though he could not speak
his gratitude to the man beside him, he pressed his
arm and showed by his lifted head that he had
received encouragement to advance.
The remaining men, who for some reason seemed
to be increased in numbers, did not again come up
with these two. Though they continued to strug-
gle on, they gradually fell further and further to
the rear till they were lost to view behind the great
drifts through which Dr. Cameron and his energetic


THE TWO DOCTORS.
395
nor did they ever learn whence the light had shone
which had been their sole encouragement for that
dreary quarter of a mile.
“It is the experience of a wilderness," thought
Dr. Cameron to himself. “And if we live to reach
the village there will be no returning from it.”
. And for a little while that “if" assumed porten-
tous shape in his mind, for he felt the numbness of
a deadly chill creeping over him, and was conscious
that no amount of assistance on the part of his
companion would avail to save him if he once
sank to the ground. But he fired his soul with
the thought of Molesworth being in the same
town with his wife, and crying to every fibre in his
body, “You shall not succumb,” he trod heavily
forward, dragging after him in his new found zeal,
the weightier frame of the man who up to this min-
ute had always held the pace before him.
But suddenly he found himself pulled up stand-
ing. Opening his eyes, (he had held them shut dur-
ing the last minute or so in order to ease them
from the sting of the biting sleet) he looked about.
They were on the brink of a rapid and turbulent
stream, and he was rushing pell-mell on, and
only the caution of his comrade had saved hiin.
Shuddering now with something besides cold, he
drew hastily back. Were they at the end of their
journey, then ? Had they struggled and suffered
and risked a hundred deaths for this? He felt his
courage shaken to the roots, and leaned against his


396
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
companion for a moment, wishing he knew his
name that he might trust him with a message to
that wife whose face now rose before him, sole and
simple, as the most angelic thing he had seen in
life.
Suddenly he felt himself gripped still more tightly
by his companion and drawn along towards the
right. He followed, but he had no longer any inter-
est in himself or any special desire for succor. All
he thought of was rest, and if he had been left to
himself, he would certainly have sunk to the earth.
But he was not left to himself, and in a few minutes
he heard a sudden hollow and ringing sound, then
another and another, that surged through his dream.
ing ears like the peal of an awakening trumpet.
It was the clatter of a desperate man upon a door.
Roused in spite of himself, he lent his efforts to
those of his companion, and together they put their
shoulders to the senseless, resisting wood, and in
an agony of effort started it from its hinges and
sent it toppling in upon the floor. A gulf of dark-
ness greeted them, but in it was shelter and
comparative warmth. Feeling a great flood of
thankfulness pour through his heart, Dr. Cam-
eron helped his comrade to place the door back in
its former position, then he stumbled forward with
him into some sort of a room, and after a moment
of semi-unconsciousness, regained enough mastery
over himself and his benumbed fingers to draw his
match-safe from his pocket and strike a light.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
397
“I want to see the face of my protector," said
he, and held up the burning match between him.
self and the man through whose energies he had
been sustained and brought to this spot.
As he did so, a cry of indescribable emotion broke
from either lip. The two faces comfronting each
other were those of Dr. Cameron and Julius Moles-
worth.


XXXI.
MAN'S PASSIONS.
THE blow was too much for Dr. Cameron's
exhausted strength. He fell like a log. When he
came to himself the haziness of a dream was still up-
on him, and through this haziness he met a pair of
eyes that turned away from him as he looked, and
left him free to gaze about upon his strange sur-
roundings.
Could he have remembered where he was he would
have wondered. Not remembering, he thought
himself in some weird and unknown region from
which come the inspirations of the poet and the
dread reality and unreality of our dreams. For in
the space about him there were no familiar objects,
but rather the scenery of some cave or Norseman's
hut. By the vivid fire-light which shone from a
hearth out of his view, he could see but not under.
stand, the great shadows of four rough-hewn pillars,
which supported a roof of rudely plastered beams;
while from the sides about him flapped the skins
and hides of animals, which if meant to add warmth
to the spot, did it with an effect that was rather
repelling than comfortable. As for the floor, it
398


400
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
lay for a few minutes longer, listening to the
wicked howlings of the storm and longing, while he
dreaded, to catch the sound of a cry without, which
should assure him of the approach of some other
member of the party which they had left struggling
along behind them. But no such cry came, and ere
long the passions in his breast became too great for
concealment, and throwing himself to the ground,
he strode across the four black shadows made by
those ghostly pillars on the earthy floor, and ap-
proaching Dr. Molesworth, who rose as he advanced,
said:
“To what interposition of Providence do I owe
this meeting, Dr. Molesworth? I thought you
took the train ahead of me."
“I did," was the short reply, “but the two trains
are stalled in the same gap. It is a miserable en-
counter.”
“On the contrary,” exclaimed Dr. Cameron, ex-
ultantly, “Heaven is kind and I acknowledge its
mercy. You cannot escape me now, Dr. Moles-
worth."
The other looked at him for a moment, sighed,
and shook his head.
“You do not know what you say," declared the
latter. “Better that the storm had buried us or
buried me than that we should have come together
in this hour. Let us play the part of wise men,
then; be as perfect strangers till Providence grant


402
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
The fire was getting low ; Dr. Molesworth turned
and replenished it.
“ These are strange revelations,” he remarked.
“Will you be pleased to make them more explicit ?"
“ I will; I have come here for that purpose.”
In his absorption Dr. Cameron forgot where he
was, and that he was not confronting the man be-
fore him in the place where he first expected to
find him. “My wife has spoken, sir ; forced by the
police, she has disclosed the fact that this girl died,
not, as you swore, in the public streets, while being
driven home by you in your phaeton, but in her
presence and in the house of Mr. Gretorex in St.
Nicholas Place. She has also related how you
were connected with the affair and told how you
came to her rescue in the disposal of the body.”
A long silence was his first answer. Then the
doctor's stern lips moved, and he exclaimed in firm,
low tones:
“ And she is ill, you say?"
“Very ill.”
“And you want me—"
"To satisfy me on a point that is killing me.-
Wait! you are not going to escape me.”
Dr. Molesworth, who had started towards the
door, stopped, listened to the roaring wind, and
sank with melancholy resignation on the rude
bench.
“ And what point is that?” he asked.
Dr. Cameron came and stood before him.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
403
“Whether my wife, the woman I have married,
was the simple witness of Mildred Farley's death,
or whether she, in the extremity of some emotion
which we will not discuss at present, offered to her
visitor the draught which—which-You know what
I mean. Do not force me into the torture of
speaking what it is madness only to contemplate."
“And—” Dr. Molesworth's voice was very low,
it was almost lost in the shrieks and wails of
the surrounding tempest—"and what makes you
think that I can answer this terrible question. If
Mrs. Cameron told you the truth concerning my
part in this unhappy business, she must have made
it clear to you that I did not enter her presence till
after the girl lay dead."
“I know it, but you saw her with the first flush
of her terror upon her. There is confession in such
moments. What did her manner confess?".
The look of Cameron, his attitude, and the tone
in which he uttered these words were terrible.
Julius Molesworth recoiled before the picture he
saw and for a moment did not know what to reply:
then he said.
“ Have you so little confidence in your wife "
The other broke in furiously,
“Confidence, when she only married me to es-
cape the hell which your indifference opened be.
fore her? Confidence, when you can write her after
two months' union with me, letters which"


THE TWO DOCTORS.
405
attempt or two he stood up from the crouching
position he had taken, and staring helplessly at the
other, slowly shook his head.
“Walter?”—the familiarity seemed to be justi-
fied by the feeling which prompted it. “I have
but one plea to make for what may have uncon-
sciously offended you in this business. It is that
of an honest, straight-forward, manly love for you,
the first man who has ever filled my ideal of dis-
interested goodness. Since you took my place at
Bridget Halloran's side, and without consideration
of the opprobrium which a failure would have cost
you, adopted my diagnosis and administered my
remedies, always with the understanding that the
glory of the success should be mine in case of
success, I have adopted you as my brother, and
given to you the most genuine affection of my
heart. For though by nature cold, I can love two
beings without reserve or limit, and they are the
woman who was my mother, and the man who was
my friend.”
“But," Dr. Cameron began, lost in the maze of
this strange and unexpected revelation, “ there was
another woman for whom you once professed a pas-
sion—the woman who has since become my wife."
The eyes which had been fixed upon him with
persuasive gentleness, suddenly flashed with an
incomprehensible fire, then sank and veiled them.
selves hurriedly from sight.
“Did she tell you," he commenced.


406
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“I have read her letters ; letters written to you
while I thought her my betrothed wife, and pre-
pared heart and home for her occupancy. They
were never sent, but they reveal in all its details the
plot entered into by her sister and herself, by which
the dress-maker, Mildred Farley, was to be foisted
upon me as my bride, while Genevieve-”
Dr. Molesworth's face had turned the color of
clay. He grasped the other's hand and looked at
him fixedly.
“O I know it was not carried out," the other
affirmed. “You had expected to marry the great
lady, and could not find her in the humble sewing
girl that presented herself before you. I do not
blame you for that, but the fact remains that she
married me while loving you, and this before the
touch of your hand had had time to cool upon her
palm, or before the breath of her dead sister van-
ished from the house where she had hoped to
triumph as a wife.”
“It is a tragedy!” quoth Molesworth, “a fearful
tragedy." And he listened as if he hoped to hear
some lulling of the storm which kept him prisoner
with this man.
Dr. Cameron cared nothing for gale or tempest.
“She has been a fond wife," he went on. “ Not
knowing or suspecting anything of this secret his-
tory of hers, I allowed myself to love her, and
when I saw the police hot upon her track, I crushed
down every doubt till I heard of this letter you had


THE TWO DOCTORS.
407
written. Then, thinking it was her beauty which
had invoked it, each and every argument used by
the police recurred to me with double force. But
you say the words were written to me and not to
her. It is a blessed declaration, Molesworth; for
if she is pure of the evil I feared, why may she not
be equally innocent concerning the more heinous
offence of which the police accuse her?".
His look was so earnest, his relief so unques-
tioned, that Julius Molesworth unconsciously
sighed.
“She is very dear to you,” he murmured.
“ Something more than your pride has suffered in
this strait.”
Dr. Cameron shuddered, turned his face away
for a moment, then cried out impetuously.
“I love her. Strange as it is for me to acknowl-
edge it to you, she is my very life and soul. I
shall be but a wreck if crime, or but the shadow
of crime is brought home to her, and that, not
because my career will be blasted, and every man's
finger pointed in curiosity and derision towards me,
but because of the destruction of my ideal and the
worse than hellish revelation of the true character
of one I have held in rapture to my heart."
“I understand; though I have never loved—"
Molesworth paused and bit his lip. “Pardon me,”
he entreated, in a certain manly confusion; “I have
so forgotten any feeling that I once imagined my.
self to have cherished for Genevieve Gretorex that


408
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
I am careless, perhaps, in my allusions. I mean
only well by you, Dr. Cameron, as God, who has
saved us from this biting storm, is our judge."
“I believe it; though an hour ago my heart was
full of hatred, you have conquered it, and I am wil.
ling to trust life and honor with you. You will go
back with me, Julius; you will stand up with me
before the police and help me to prove to them
what you must surely believe, that the woman to
whom you lent such wonderful and unprecedented
aid in her terrible difficulty, was no vile murderess,
worthy of nothing but your reprobation and hate,
but an innocent and unfortunate being whose great-
est crime was her determination to regain her own
identity even at the cost of her ambitious sister's
hopes.”
“I long to serve you,” the other declared, “but
I cannot do it in this way. If by staying in town
and facing the police and their questions I could
have benefitted you or saved her, do you think I
would have slid away from my patients and a
freshly opened line of practice, to hide my hopes
and my ambitions in a miserable country cottage,
where even intelligent intercourse with my fellows
was denied me?"
“But-but you feared for yourself? You have
committed perjury and-and-"
“I fear nothing for myself. Since I have known
you I have had but the one wish, to save you dis-
tress and humiliation. Read the letter I have writ.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
409
ten you. Had I sent it you might not have been
here. But I waited till the danger seemed more
threatening, or till I knew for certainty that a long
and continued sacrifice would be necessary on my
Part.”
With a mechanical movement of his head and
hand, Dr. Cameron endeavored to obey. Turning
the letter toward the flame of the fire, he stilled the
demons of apprehension that were again making
havoc with his self-possession, and managed after a
moment or two to read these lines.
DEAR DR. CAMERON,
You will pardon the presumption of
these words when I tell you they are from a very
unhappy man to a much honored one. You know
what you have done for me, but you cannot know
the feelings to which your kindness has given rise.
They are strong; they are vital; they are absorb-
ing. Never have I known before what it was to
regard any human being above my work and my
ambition. What I once called love was but a
shadow, a vanity. This only is the one great feel.
ing of my life and if it seems unmanly and pre-
sumptuous in me to avow it, you will pardon me for
the sake of what I am willing to do to preserve your
honor and your happiness. Love makes light of
sacrifice, and it is love I have felt for you ever since
you so generously came to my assistance at the
moment of my greatest necessity. If then I dis-
appear do not let the fact make you indignant or
unhappy. It will be for your sake, and therefore
for my own, who am your truest well wisher,
JULIUS MOLESWORTH..
youn Sent of my grehe fact make Yee, and there


XXXII.
Q.
DR. CAMERON, left to himself, fell into a sort of
miserable stupor, from which he was only aroused
by the chill occasioned by the dying down of the
fire. Bestirring himself as he realized that he was
fast becoming numb, he rose, piled on fresh fuel,
and passing to the door, moved it a little from
its position and endeavored to look out. But the
rush of snow was too blinding, and he was stag-
gering back from the aperture, when he heard a
cry, whose smothered and despairing tones assured
him that another of his comrades was perishing in
the snow almost within reach of his arm.
Without any thought but that of his duty to a
fellow sufferer, he rushed back to the fire, plucked
out a half-burnt brand, and waving it to make it
burn brighter, tore down the door and thrust the
glowing signal out into the darkness. It burnt but
a moment under the influence of the driving snow
and wind, but that moment was sufficient. For in
a space of time too short for Dr. Cameron to realize
what he had done, there came a gurgling sound
of speech, then a hurried rush of some panting
412


THE TWO DOCTORS.
415
long as it was with friendly intentions you can't ob-
ject to an attention that has always been respectful,
I trust."
“No, but what I want to be assured of is that
they are friendly. You are doubtless in the employ
of the police, but were you sent here to act as a spy
upon me or to assist me in my endeavors to find Dr.
“ Can you ask after all that has happened ?
Why, sir, without me you wouldn't have got track
of the villain at all, or if you had, you would have
found yourself looked upon with suspicion as an
agent of the police. No, sir ; I may not have done
much, but I have done enough to show you I am
here to assist you in your search, and if this storm
had not come on he would never have escaped us.
As it is-Haloo !” he exclaimed, “what sort of a
place is this?” He had just caught sight of the
peculiar paraphernalia of the spot.
“That is more than I have been able to find
out," answered the doctor. “It is a refuge and
that is all that concerns us."
“ But the pillars, the table, the bench, and then
those skins ! It looks like a cave, but what cave
ever had a hearth like that!"
“ It is the cellar of a man's house, or so I sup-
pose," Dr. Cameron hastily added, as he saw the
detective's eyes flash upward to the ceiling. “But
all we have got to do with it, I presume, is to rest


416
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
here till morning. Lucky for us if the owner does
not appear and turn us out.”
“The owner ? so the place has got an owner!
Well, let him come; I don't think he will turn
me out. I wonder where he keeps his grub."
“Wouldn't it be better to ask whether or not
there are any more poor perishing creatures strag.
gling about in the storm near our door?” suggested
the doctor, with some vague idea of there being
safety in numbers. “Was there no one near you
when you made yourself heard at the door? More
than a dozen men set out from the cars.'
. “I know it, but I soon lost track of even you,
sir. Every man for himself in a fight of this kind.
But where is your companion?”
“My companion ? "
“I see two overcoats here, sir ; you didn't wear
them both yourself ?”.
Dr. Cameron glanced at the floor beside the settle,
and, sure enough, there lay the coat which Julius
Molesworth had thrown over him. He found it
difficult to speak, but he did, and that with a care-
lessness which astonished himself.
“O, there is another man here,” he acknowledged,
“one of the passengers who stumbled along with
me in the storm. He has gone up-stairs; I sup-
pose there is some kind of a room up there."
“ Havn't you been to see? What is the use of
being in a hole like this and not making your in-
vestigations. Where are the stairs ?"


THE TWO DOCTORS.
417
“I have not taken the pains to look. I am
content to take the good the gods provide.”
“ You are not.& the curious,'” laughed the other.
“I never stay in a spot five minutes without knowing
it from top to bottom. That's my business,” he ex-
plained; "and more than that, it is my nature.”
“Q?” repeated the doctor, vaguely.
“My name. Short for Query. Living interroga-
tion point I am called."
Cameron eyed him, saw he was like no man he
had ever met before, and dropped all hope of con-
trolling him.
“It's an odd name and a not to be envied na-
ture," he observed, “but that is no affair of mine.
If you did not have it, I suppose you would not
be useful as a detective."
“There you have it, sir. And to be a good de-
tective is meat and drink to me, and more. I
have ambition to take Mr. Gryce's place when he
is laid up. There are those who say I will. But
all this is not supper, and supper is what I am after;
so here goes for a peep into the rooms above, for
there is certainly nothing here."
He would have gone and Dr. Cameron could not
have stopped him without invoking the very sus-
picion he was desirous of avoiding, if at that mo-
ment there had not risen shouts from without and a
harsh voice crying:
“Hurrah! here's old Harvey's hut!" Which ex-
clamation was followed by a noisy rush and the


418
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
blustering of wind, as three men staggered against
the door and knocked it down in their frenzied en-
trance.
It was an irruption like that of the Goths and
Vandals, but it served as a diversion to the deteca
tive, and this was much to the now thoroughly agi-
tated doctor. Taking advantage of the excitement,
he managed to steal away, and ere long found an
opportunity for hastily mounting into that region
of mystery and darkness, amid whose depths lay
hidden the man whose name and identity it had
now become the one imperative necessity of his life
to conceal.


XXXIII.
A VOICE IN THE NIGHT.
THE space into which he stepped was perfectly
dark, but trusting to his knowledge of such places,
he knelt down, and feeling for the ends of the lad-
der, discovered that they were fastened by hooks to
an iron rung set in the floor, and that they could be
easily detached, and the ladder drawn up. He ac-
cordingly took advantage of this fact to cut off
communication from below, and laying the ladder
down in the hall which appeared to be just long
enough to receive it, he proceeded to strike a
match, satisfied that the prying Q, as he called him-
self, would not be able to follow him.
The flame given out showed that he was in a
narrow hall flanked by two doors. Trying the
handle of one, he found that the key had been
turned in the lock, and concluding that it was in
this room that Molesworth had found refuge, he
passed to the other and succeeded in opening it
just as his match went out. Striking a fresh one,
he took a short survey of the apartment in which he
found himself, and perceived that it was, as near as
he could judge, dining-room, kitchen, and larder
..19


420
BEHIND CLOSED VUORS.
combined. He also saw there were candles on the
tall mantel-shelf, and hastily lighting one, he expe-
rienced for the first time since he left the cars, the
feeling of reality that accompanies the sight of
every-day objects.
And yet the apartment thus revealed, was by no
means of the ordinary type. Like everything else
about the curious structure it bore the impress of
oddity, and though comfortable enough, had the
look of a place into which a woman had never
stepped. And indeed I believe that Dr. Cameron
found out afterwards that this was the case ; that
the house had been built, furnished and inhabited
without the counsel or presence of the softer sex;
that it was indeed a hermit's cell, and as such was
eschewed by all persons of a companionable disposi-
tion.
The owner, however, though peculiar and un-
social, was not without some taste and admira-
tion for the beautiful. In this anomalous room
for instance, where pots and pans confronted a
huge sofa and a shelf full of curious books, there
was a bronze figure of such exquisite proportions
that it caught the eye of this uneasy man and awak.
ened something like a pleasureable sensation within
him. Then the andirons on the hearth, and above
all the tile upon which they stood, were fine enough
to have graced a dwelling with decided pretentions
to elegance. And what was perhaps the strangest
feature of all, each and every object was to all ap-


THE TWO DOCTORS.
421
pearance in its own place, and was, as far as one
could judge by such a light, scrupulously neat.
· All this seen, though not perhaps as fully noted
as I have suggested here, Dr. Cameron crossed
the hall again to the opposite room. Anxious to
communicate with Molesworth, yet fearing to risk
any seeming collusion with him, he stood for a mo-
ment hesitating whether to knock or call, when,
suddenly the murmur of voices rising from below,
grew perceptibly louder, and fearing to attract at-
tention by his light, he drew back into the room
from which he had come and shut the door.
But no sooner had he done this, than he felt an
inexplicable uneasiness. Something seemed to be
going on in the hall beyond which he ought to see ;
and though he knew such fears were folly, he
finally succumbed to them sufficiently to reopen the
door, when to his real astonishment-for he had ex-
pected to see nothing—he perceived the good hu-
mored visage of the very man whose surveillance
he was endeavoring to escape, protruding upwards
through the trap.
“ Haloo !” cried that gay and easy personage ;
“there is nothing like a light body and a curious
mind. One more boost there,” he shouted down
to the man on whose shoulders he evidently stood.
“So! Now your hand, governor," and by the aid
of Dr. Cameron, who did not dare to withhold his
assistance, much as he would have preferred to have
tripped the man back into his hole, he finally clam-


422
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
bered up through the trap and landed on the foor
at Dr. Cameron's side.
“ Well, here I am! No Alies on me, governor,"
was his first exclamation. And he flashed about
him a piercing look which, while different in its
character from that of Mr. Gryce, was yet fully as
acute in its way. “You see I smelled fodder or
thought I did, and finding that the fellers below
were willing to trust me as a scout, I followed your
example. But how did you get up here? You had
no man's shoulder to climb up by, and—0, I see, a
ladder. And you pulled it up after you, eh? A
mean dodge, governor," he laughed," mean."
Dr. Cameron, who by this time had called to-
gether his wits, laughed with a very tolerable sim-
ulation of mirth.
“Do you think I was going to run the risk of
a poor night when I could have a good one! This
room will accommodate itself very nicely to the
wants of one man, but it would not do so well for
the three I saw come in down below.”
“O, I don't say but what you understand your.
self. Only”-he was peering about in closets and
boxes while saying all this—“ now I'm here I think
I'd better stay. I'll just curl up on the floor there and
give you no more trouble than a bug in a rug. O, I
don't snore ; I'd never do for a detective if I did."
“ Have you found anything to eat?” inquired
the doctor, putting the best face he could upon the
matter.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
423
“No," growled the other, with a slam of the
cover down on a crock he was examining. “Crums
of ginger-bread and a jar of pickles, with flour in
plenty and beans by the quart, but nothing cooked,
not even crackers. Well, its a tough spot, this."
And going to the trap, he called down.
“No go! On my word of honor there isn't any-
thing here worth a bird's pecking at. But to-mor-
row we'll have beans; there's half a bushel here-
uncooked."
The answers he received may be easily imagined,
but they did not provoke him. He had a word
for every one, and though he raised a fresh storm of
suspicion when he announced his intention of re-
maining where he was, he met their various innu.
endoes with such display of wit, and lent such a
sparkle of light-heartedness and mirth to what
might possibly prove a very serious situation, that
the babble of voices soon grew still and he was
finally allowed to carry out his projects-if he had
any—without opposition or interference.
Meanwhile the doctor was picturing to himself
the dismay of Molesworth, imprisoned in darkness
and ignorant of just how much danger he ran of
being discovered and forced from his retreat.
Though perfect silence reigned in the spot where
he stood probably with his ear to the panels, Dr.
Cameron was well enough assured of the character
of his present companion to be certain that he
would not let that closed door remain much longer
untried.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
425
thing to do, which is much to a man situated as he
was. The room was full of shadows, and though
he did not observe it, there was one which stretched
across the ceiling like a long arm reaching to clutch
him. As he leaned forward to replenish the fire,
from time to time, this arm seemed to acquire
purpose, and threatened and reached at him in a
way that was truly appalling. Happily it was but
a shadow.
It was one o'clock, as I have said, and the storm
was still raging. But it had its lulls now, and in
the comparative quiet made by one of these, the
doctor was suddenly startled by the sound of a
voice-from what quarter he did not at first realize
-speaking in what seemed to him the hurried and
unnatural tones of a dreamer.
“Is the hall light ?–Very light.--No one on
stairs-Able to reach street-Only keep cool
Oh! oh! the glassy look of her eyes!”
Great God! what talk was this? · Dr. Cameron
felt his heart stand still, and stared at the detective
as if to see if such words could come from him.
But the idea showed itself false in an instant, for
Q's lips remained silent, while the horrible jabber,
now apparently smothered by distance, went on.
“ How shall I carry her ?-So? No, no, no, face
exposed–This better? Yes—but now hand hangs
down. O God! O God what a task?"
It was Molesworth. No other man had such
memories to unbalance him. He was living over


426
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
the past, and saying in his sleep what the rack could
not have extorted from him had he been awake.
As the doctor realized this, with all the possibilities
of discovery it entailed, his soul almost dissolved in
dismay, and he scarcely dared to glance again
toward the quiet figure of the detective, lest he
should perceive him start from his place, with ears
wide open to catch the revelations let fall by the
unconscious dreamer.
And still the smothered and monotonous utters
ance went rapidly on.
“—Is very heavy-Not know dead bodies
weighed so much-Must be her heart-like lead,
lead.”
Maddened, driven out of all command over him-
self, Dr. Cameron stirred and wildly threw up his
arms. Should he rise and with frenzied exclama-
tions drown the words that were giving away the
secret of their neighbor's personality, upon the sup-
pression of which his whole honor and happiness
depended? Or should he slide to the floor and with
the silence and celerity of a shadow fall upon the
detective and stop his ears, so that he should hear
no more of these dread utterances ?
Both expedients were those of frenzy, and neither
of them remained in his mind for a moment. If Q
were awake-and who could say he was not--the
least effort of his to hush the dreamer would be
noted and given its true interpretation. He must
therefore curb himself; he must not only remain


THE TWO DOCTORS.
427
still but he must not appear to hear. Difficult,
almost impossible task, yet he must perform it.
Letting his arms fall, he settled his head back
on the sofa and shut his eyes in apparent sleep;
and cold and icy as was the night, the perspiration
started from every pore as he heard that voice
again, saying in accents to which horror now lent a
hollow sound:
“Have handled many-never held dead body to
breast before. Horrible-gruesome-makes blood
stand still in veins--Can't let it go-no stop now –
Sounds-music-laughter-Must creep with dread.
ful burden--step by step-stair by stair-down,
down, down—"
There was silence. It was like a gulf into which
every hope of the doctor went down. There was
no denying now who the speaker was. But one
man in all this community had secretly carried a
dead girl out of a house of feasting and dancing.
Molesworth was discovered, Molesworth would be
taken back to New York, and she whom his evi-
dence would destroy~
But that voice is speaking again,--final utteran.
ces, bitter and sad.
“My wedding night—Never marry now-chill of
this body sinks deep through heart and spirit-
Shall never see anything but death in-brightest
eye-sweetest smile—Genevieve! Genevieve!”
That name was all that was needed. Dr. Camer.
on could not keep his glance from wandering in


THE TWO DOCTORS.
429
head, he now looked towards the door in time to
see the detective just disappearing behind it.
“He is going to interview Molesworth! I am
lost !” thought the doctor. And reckless of conse-
quences, he slid to his feet and carefully crossed
the floor to the hall.
But before he got there he heard a very different
sound from what he expected. Instead of that
peremptory knock or that quiet trying of the oppo
site door which seemed natural under the circum-
stances, there came the noise of the ladder being
lifted and fitted to its place; and almost before the
doctor could realize the happy circumstance, Q had
placed his foot upon the top round and was rapidly
descending out of sight and hearing.
Astounded at this unexpected move, and deter.
mined to profit by it, risk or no risk, Dr. Cameron
waited only long enough to hear him cross the floor
below, and then, bounding to Dr. Molesworth's
door, shook it sharply, crying, “ Open! open! I've
a word to say to you. Don't delay for God's
sake!”
Would he hear? Would he answer? The in-
stant of suspense was horrible. But in a moment,
almost with the sound of the doctor's voice, a
light tread crossed the floor, the bolt flew back and
the door opened.
“What is it? Who is the man and~".
“Hush ! it is a detective. You have been talking
in your sleep and he must know you are in the


THE TWO DOCTORS.
431
go back if you say so; there's another prime
one-"
But the doctor declined the proffered favor; he
had an extra overcoat to keep him warm, and so
the detective betook him to his corner again, and
Dr. Cameron watched him as long as the light of
the candle lasted, and when that had gone out,
listened, while the gale blew on without, coming
now in great gusts and then subsiding, only to
gather fresh strength and shake the house and the
hearts of all within it, with its relentless fury.


XXXIV.
THE BALCONY.
It was still dark when Q threw off the skin in
which he had wrapped himself and hastily arose.
He was too cold, or so it appeared, for approaching
the hearth, he hastily built a fresh fire, with a quick
and careful hand. Dr. Cameron watched him from
between the folds of the overcoat in which he had
well-nigh enveloped his head. As the bright flame
started up, the detective rubbed his hands gleefully
and crouched down in pure enjoyment of the blaze;
but as the warmth diffused itself through the room,
he rose again to his feet and with just the shortest
glance at the outstretched form of his secret watcher,
drew near one of the windows and peered curiously
out. While his back was turned, the doctor drew
out his watch, and turning it so that the fire-light
could play on it, eagerly looked at the time. It was
half-past five.
The appearance of things without was evidently
unsatisfactory to Q, for he shook his head as he left
the window. The next move he made seemed sus-
picious to the doctor. Crossing to the door, he
opened it, and stood there in a very thoughtful at.
432


THE TWO DOCTORS.
433
títude. But his intentions, whatever they were,
evidently changed, for he presently came back and
began peering again into the closets from which he
presently extracted such ingredients as he needed to
make some sort of a dish for breakfast. About this
he now busied himself with all the handiness of a
professed cook, and Dr. Cameron, with his mind
more at ease, watched him with as much amuse-
ment as interest, till some incautious move on his
own part arrested the detective's attention.
Instantly the bowl into which he had been stir-
ring what looked like flour, was laid down, and Q,
advancing with a visible look of excitement on his
face, cried :
“Awake, sir? Good! I have a piece of news
for you. Who do you think your friend is ? the
gentlemen you have there in the next room?"
Dr. Cameron, startled, though he had expected
some such inquiry, did not answer save by a look
of mingled astonishment and inquiry.
“ It is he, Molesworth, the man we are both in
search of. How he came here I cannot imagine.
Probably his train was stalled ahead of ours. But
however that may be, I am sure it's he, and only
wonder how you escaped recognizing him when
you saw him iast night. But I suppose you were
hardly yourself, and that he is in some sort of dis-
guise."
The doctor made an incoherent reply, while the
voluble fellow went on to say :
28


434
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“But he must have recognized you. Did you
notice anything like surprise in his manner when
he saw you?”
The doctor found his voice. “Yes, now I think
of it,” said he, “ I did.”
“I thought so; and he left you abruptly, forget-
ting even his overcoat, and came up here and shut
himself in ?"
“ Yes."
“Well, you were not disguised, and the sight
of you caused him strange dreams. Oh, it's a go,
and I don't wonder you look pale. It made me
feel a little queer when I found we had treed our
bear unexpectedly."
Dr. Cameron thought of his immobility under
the discovery which he declared affected him so
much, and asked himself how he, without losing
his position as the determined pursuer of Moles.
worth, was to meet and baffle this seemingly care-
less but in reality dangerously acute man, anxious
to grasp at the fading honors of his great patron,
Mr. Gryce. It was difficult to see in that moment.
“ Are you sure of what you say?” he asked, in
his bewilderment and indecision.
“O, yes; his overcoat there has his mark on it.
I did not have to disturb you to find the J. M.
under the collar."
Dr. Cameron's pale face turned red. He never
felt more like crushing a man between his two fists,
than he did at this moment. But he kept all expres.


436
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
it, first. O, there's nothing mean about me; I will
show him every delicate attention.”
And with a laugh all his own, Q turned towards
the opposite door, saying:
"It's only common humanity to see that he is
alive and well after such a night's storm.”
Dr. Cameron followed with an eagerness in keep-
ing with the situation, but it sprung from a source
quite different from what Q naturally imagined.
He had heard but a few instants before the sound
of a key softly turning in a lock, and on consulting
his watch, had found it was after six.
“Haloo !” cried Q, giving the door a sharp rattle.
“ Aren't you hungry in there? I am getting up
some first-rate slap-jacks. Come out and have some.”
Silence, as both had expected.
“ Are you frozen up? Has the night been too
many for you? Speak, or I shall feel it my duty as
a member of the humanitarian club to break in the
door.”
And still silence.
“What did I tell you ?” whispered Q, in the ear
of his anxious companion. And he was about to
throw his weight against the door, when the other
quietly suggested that they try the knob first.
Q stared, but did so, when to his unbounded sur-
prise it turned and the door opened.
“Not locked ! and I have lain there four hours !
Well, I didn't know I was such a fool,” he ex-
claimed, as he bounded into the room.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
437
The doctor pressed hastily behind him and both
stood looking eagerly about them in the hope of
being able to pierce the darkness without a light.
They could just do it. A chair, a table, a chest of
drawers soon made themselves discernible, and
finally, in a dim corner, something that looked like a
bed. Toward this Q instantly plunged.
“Haloo !” he cried, but in another moment, hes-
itated, peered, and excitedly fell back. “Why,
there's no one here!” he exclaimed, and began
hastily looking about on the floor and poking into
the corners as if he expected to find the missing
witness curled up in some of the many shadows that
lay about so thickly.
Meanwhile Dr. Cameron had drawn the deepest
breath of his life, as he struck the last match which
his little safe held.
“Can he have fled,” he asked, wonderingly, “ or
shall we find him down below ?"
Q, taking the match from his hand, waited till he
had lit a kerosene lamp on the table before ventur-
ing upon any reply. Then he remarked:
“No man ever passes my door without my hear-
ing him. He is either here or he has vanished in
smoke.” And his quick glances flashed hither and
thither, but all to no purpose. “What does it
mean?” he now asked, staring at the windows that
were numerous, and finally letting his eye settle on
a door in the wall opposite to the hall by which
they had entered. “Is there a room beyond ? or
have we a closet here—"


THE TWO DOCTORS.
441
heard his name spoken in such suppressed tones,
and from a quarter so mysterious, that whatever
warmth was left in his veins vanished.
At the same instant Q's hearty voice spoke up
from the dim interior, saying:
“I am going to take a hurried look down-stairs.
Though it will be a new thing in my experia
ence, he may have stolen by me and got down that
ladder without my hearing him. At all events I
may as well make sure." And without waiting for
reply he put his own foot on the ladder, and with
the stealthiness of a cat began his descent.
The doctor thus unexpectedly left alone with a
mystery he was as far from understanding as Q
himself, hesitated for a moment, then stepped
again to the balcony.
“Molesworth !” he called, “ are you there?"
He had not expected any reply, much less the
appearance of the man thus summoned. He was
therefore greatly shocked and in a measure stunned,
when almost at the utterance of this name, a figure
evolved itself out of the night and swirling snow,
and coming forward, a shadow amid shadows, ear-
nestly exclaimed :
“Don't speak; I am here, but I must soon be
gone. Get me my coat, Cameron, and bid me
God speed, for we shall probably never meet again."
“But where have you come from? Where have
you been hiding? Did you hang from the balcony
by your hands?”


442
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“No, there is a trap in it and a boat underneath ;
I have been lying coiled up in that. Though I know
nothing of the owner, I must borrow that boat. It
will at least land me on the other side of the river ;
and if it is destroyed you will see that he is paid. It
has oars, and being suspended here by block and fall
I shall have no difficulty in lowering it into the
water. I should have attempted it at once but I
need light. As soon as the first glimmer comes I
shall be gone. Only bring me my coat and be care-
ful that you keep the detective away from this side
of the house till I am out of sight.”
Dr. Cameron wrung the hand which was proffered
him and dashed through the hall towards the room
where he had left the coat. Dragging it from the
settle, he had regained the door and was just reach.
ing it across the hall to Molesworth when a light
figure sprang between them and peering into either
startled face, laughed :
“So, so; our friend has made his appearance has
he? Well, that's good! we will have all the mer.
rier breakfast."


444
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
coldly, “and do not even know your name. You
will therefore not expect me to answer your imper.
tinent questions."
At which shrugged his shoulders with the
utmost good-nature and launched out into some
merry story that if not entirely appropriate to the
occasion, at least had the effect of bridging over a
moment of embarrassment, which was even greater
and more full of intolerable emotions than his facile
but far from deeply observant mind could suppose.
It was followed by a series of jests and good-hu-
mored banter, as the merry detective, ushering them
into seats by the fire, passed around and before
them in his self-imposed task of getting up a com-
fortable breakfast. Nor did he stop with these. As
the increasing daylight gave him the opportunity of
catching Dr. Cameron's eye, he allowed himself the
pleasure of indulging in numerous allusions highly
amusing to himself, and as he supposed exceedingly
gratifying to his companion. Dr. Molesworth must
make himself at home. It was another man's house
and another man's fuel they were enjoying; but
that made no difference. It was as free to him as
to them, and he must not think of going back into
solitude again. Dr. Molesworth was on his way
back to New York. Very good; so was he; they
would go together. Indeed he meant to make it so
cosy here there would be no temptation for any one
to leave a spot where comfort was plenty and the
society good. And so on and on, jest following


THE TWO DOCTORS.
445
jest, and laughter following laughter, till the noise
brought up the three strangers from below, and any
opportunity which the two doctors may have antici-
pated for momentary speech together, was lost.
Meanwhile the morning had advanced, revealing
such a scene of stormy desolation as none of them
had ever beheld in this part of the country. On all
sides there was nothing to be seen but enormous
drifts, save where the stream cut through. No
house, no road, no token of human life anywhere,
nothing but snow, snow, snow, on the earth and in
the sky, and though the wind was perhaps less
furious than in the night, it still swept the country
with sufficient fierceness to make any thought of
leaving their temporary refuge impossible. Indeed
they were by this time so completely hemmed in
by drifts that simple egress would be difficult, and
after one of the party had made the experiment of
treading the snow that lay piled about the door,
and found that it was of that light, powdery nature
which allows you to sink to your knees at every
step, they all settled down to the fact that they
were in reality snow-bound and must reconcile
themselves to the situation with as much grace as a
very meagre larder and a rapidly decreasing store
of wood would allow.
Dr. Molesworth and Dr. Cameron alone knew of
a means of escape, and while they scrupulously
avoided all communication with each other, they
were both vividly conscious that each was thinking


THE TWO DOCTORS.
447
ting down in his former place, made one move-
ment with his lips, signifying, “ Locked." The
wary detective had not left him without taking his
precautions and the way to the balcony was cut off.
While he and Cameron were slowly recovering
from their mutual disappointment, Q returned.
He had found no stores, yet his face was beaming.
He held in his hands two barrel staves and he star-
tled them all with the cry:
“Who's got a string? With these tied to my
feet I can get to the village. What do you say
then ; shall I try it?”
“Yes,” came in chorus from all but the two
doctors. It would not do for them to show the
eager hope which had come to them at the utter-
ance of these few words.
“I have looked out of the door and I can just see
a steeple in the distance. With that to guide me I
am sure I can get to town in an hour. Look alive
for some string then; we shall not go to bed sup-
perless." And motioning Dr. Cameron to meet
him outside the door, he whispered:
“ You needn't bother about him. No one can
make way through this snow without some such rig
as I will get up, and I have hidden the other staves
of the barrel in a very safe place. He may throw
himself out of a window, but if he does, he will stick
in a drift, so we will have him any way. As for
the balcony, I have the key of his room in my
pocket; so you see you are bound to endure his


448
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
company for some time yet. But I don't think
that will be disagreeable to you, after the pains
we have been at to obtain it.” And the light-
hearted fellow gave one of his peculiar laughs, and
being by this time accommodated with string, took
up his staves and began to clamber down the ladder,
followed by two of his companions.
The two doctors left thus to their own devices,
allowed themselves one word of congratulation.
Then that no time might be lost, Dr. Cameron
stretched himself out on the settle and feigned to
fall into a deep sleep. As this had been the recrea-
tion of more than one of the party during the long
day, it caused no comment, not even when he failed
to wake with the return of the two men who had
been down to the door to see off. Nothing
short of the violent bursting sound that came sud-
denly from the hall was sufficient to break his slum-
bers, and then he awoke slowly and looked about
him with vague astonishment, before saying:
“What is that? Is the roof tumbling over our
heads ?"
“O, no," cried one of the party indifferently; “it
is that moody chap who was here. He wanted to
lie down too, and finding the door of the opposite
room locked, just put his shoulder to the wood and
burst off the lock. Some of us will have to pay dam-
ages for our abuse of this house, I imagine.”
Dr. Cameron rose with great seeming precipitancy
and passed into the opposite room. Molesworth


THE TWO DOCTORS.
449
was already on the balcony, and with a rare thought-
fulness of consequences, had locked the door behind
him. For at all costs it must not only appear that
Dr. Cameron was taken at a disadvantage, but he
must be positively prevented from following or
regaining his witness, or else this disappearance
would militate against him and bring about the
very catastrophe he hoped to prevent.
Understanding the trick and being quite willing
to profit by it, Dr. Cameron nevertheless followed
the example given him by the other and en-
deavored to break down the door. But it was
built more firmly than the interior one and he soon
ceased from efforts that in reality meant nothing.
He did not quit the spot however, but stood with
bended head and listening ear, harkening for the
creaking sounds which would announce that the
boat was being lowered into the water. When it
came, he felt such a gush of thankfulness that it
was with the greatest difficulty he could restrain him-
self from uttering his gratitude aloud. It was there-
fore a terrible shock when next instant he heard a
sudden snap, then a rushing sound, and then a
splash which told him that one or more of the ropes
had parted, and that the boat, the doctor, or both,
had fallen into the stream.


XXXVI.
RESCUE.
THERE are moments in which we live a life-
time in a second. Such was this instant to Dr.
Cameron. Molesworth in the water! Molesworth
struggling with death! That meant disappearance
indeed and a disappearance from which there could
be no return, either forced or voluntary. But
though the devil tempted him as he had never
tempted him before, Dr. Cameron did not linger
long to listen to his fearful suggestions, but after try-
ing the door again and finding it immovable, Aung
himself from one of the windows into the drifts be-
low, and though buried almost to his neck in snow,
fought his way clear till he stood on the ice-bound
brink of the stream.
Here he had only to cast one glance at the rear
of the house to see that it was the doctor and not
the boat, that had fallen. For the latter was still
visible hanging in a perpendicular direction from
the balcony above, while of the former nothing was
to be seen but his hat floating on the surface of the
water.
450


THE TWO DOCTORS.
451
Stilling a cry, for he was horror-struck, Dr. Cam-
eron struggled out to the very verge of the bank
and stood staring into the water, and staring, saw
the inky waves part from a ghastly face, whose wide
open and appealing eyes shot such terror and re-
morse to his heart that he waited not to calculate
upon his chances, but tore off his overcoat and
plunged into the icy stream with no other thought
than that of rescue.
But when after numerous efforts, made more dif-
ficult by the icy chill of the water, he had succeeded
in laying hold of Molesworth's arm, he found that
the struggle before him was likely to be one of life
and death. For Molesworth was not only wholly
unable to assist him, but was so heavily burdened by
his two coats, that he drew him irresistibly down-
ward, making the few strokes necessary to reach
the shore almost impossible even to his practised
arm. Indeed, he had almost given himself up for
lost when the thought came, that he had but to
loosen his grasp upon this already half-dead man,
and not only life, but love and hope would be his
again, and that without any blame to himself. For
what was this man to him that he should sacrifice
his own safety, in an attempt, which after all was
more quixotic than reasonable.
But this thought, plausible though it was, did not
tempt him long, for he realized even in that passion-
ate moment, that he would gain too much, for his
conscience ever to rest at ease if he let this man go,


452
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
So renewing his grip, he gave himself up again to
the struggle, and worked so manfully that he
reached the spot where the boat hung down, and
finding it near enough for him to gain some support
from it, he clutched at it with one hand and held
up Molesworth's head with the other.
The momentary relief thus brought, allowed him
to look around him for the first time. But he saw
nothing encouraging. Meantime a look like death
was settling over Molesworth's face, and Dr. Cam-
eron saw that if he was to complete his sacrifice and
save this man, he must at once get assistance from his
companions. But that meant discovery and all the
unfathomed results which must follow the restoring
of this witness into the hands of the police; an al-
ternative so dreadful that he cast his eyes in anguish
up at the supports which still held the boat from
falling into the water, in hope of seeing some way
of detaching it, and so saving Molesworth without
hindering the escape upon which so much depended.
But one glance was enough to assure him of the
futility of any such hope, so .crushing down every
instinct but that of duty, he gave one resounding
cry that soon brought his companions to the win-
dow and thence to the side of the river.
An hour or two later Q returned. He had not
been very successful in his undertaking, but he had
a glimpse of the outside world and came back full
of life and spirits. Bursting into the house, he sent
his voice through the cellar, crying:


THE TWO DOCTORS.
453
“Where's the welcome I expected ? Look here,
you! Here have I been gone two solid hours in
the worst scrabble you ever saw, and not a soul at
the door to take my basket. I suppose you didn't
expect me back so soon ; thought I would be
charmed by some of the pretty girls I might meet
on the road, picking flowers. But that's not the
kind of dude I am. Straight ahead!' is my motto
when I've anything to do, and I had plenty to do
this time I assure you."
He had now kicked off the snow-shoes he had im-
provised, and receiving no reply to this tirade, hur-
ried toward the ladder and came rapidly up.
“ Are you all dead?” was his greeting as he
popped his head above the trap. “Overcome by
grief at my absence, eh? Don't, don't be so weak-
hearted, my friends; I am here, and with me the
choicest bits of sole-leather steak and stale bread
that hungry men can want. O, this is a fine old
town we have stumbled on. You can get most any.
thing you want, for money enough-if only you
don't want anything but hard-tack and some rather
lively old cheese. But what's up? you seem to be
alive, and yet--"
“Two gentlemen have been in the water," now
exclaimed one of the party, meeting him at the door
of the room in which the fire was. “They are
pretty well used up, but I guess we will bring them
round.”
With a cry not unlike a suppressed oath, Q
dashed by him into the room.


456
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Monday merely to purchase provisions. And when
he came-But I will pass over the scene with its
growl and banter-merely suggesting that if the
crabbed old curmudgeon ever found his match, it was
in Q, and that on the contrary, if I ever found his,
it was at this time and in this place, in the crooked,
ugly, selfish, old hermit Harvey, who felt that him-
self, and his effects also, were contaminated if
another man so much as looked at them, much less
sat down in his chairs, and feasted from out his
empty crocks.
On Friday the roads began to be cleared and the
trains to run. The first that left carried with it our
two doctors and the now silent Q. As they quitted
the spot where they had suffered so much, the doc-
tors exchanged one long look. It was not the first.
During the last two days they had been much
together, and frequent had been their glances,
though few had been their words. And in those
glances a growing intimacy had arisen which was
fast weaving their hearts together in those rare and
indissoluble bonds which sometimes unite two men
of opposite tastes, instincts and conditions. But
they never forgot themselves and never awakened
the least suspicion in Q, who saw in them only
enemies intent upon opposite schemes.
The ride to New York would have been interest-
ing had they not been laboring under such tremen-
dous anxieties. As it was, they scarcely noticed the
unwonted aspect of the country till they reached


THE TWO DOCTORS.
457
the city itself ; then they were forced into a recog-
nition of the changes which had been made in the
every-day scenes they knew, by this furious and
unprecedented storm. Their experience, which
they had almost thought unique, they found to have
been a common one not only in the suburbs of the
city but in the city itself. While they were strug-
gling through fields where the drifts threatened
to overwhelm them, strong men were doing the
same in the streets and parks of New York, and not
always with success.
Arrived at the depot, Dr. Cameron parted from
Molesworth with a few polite words and a quiet
bow. He knew that Q would not leave him to his
own devices, and Molesworth knew it too. Though
he might seem to be his own man, he would never
in reality be so again till the police had obtained
from him all that he knew.
It was this realization probably which gave his
face such a melancholy look as he turned away from
Dr. Cameron. At least so the latter was forced to
think when it rose before him again and again upon
his journey home ; and the thought brought him
anything but comfort in the ordeal that lay before
him. But he had got to that pass where he
expected none, and went on his way because it was
his way and there was no other to be trod. And
thus he came to his own door and entered into
those fresh anxieties which the sight of his home


XXXVII.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT.
DR. CAMERON wrote and sent the following note
to the inspector that night.
I promised too much. I could not make Dr.
Molesworth talk, though I did succeed in finding
him and bringing him back to New York. If you
have any better luck with him than I, please let me
know.


XXXVIII.
THE INSPECTOR SPEAKS.
THERE is a point beyond which a man cannot
suffer. Dr. Cameron felt that he had reached that
point. But when on his return from the breakfast.
table the next morning, he saw the nurse standing
at the head of the stairs with her finger pressed to
her lip, he found there were possibilities of misery
still within him.
“She has moved; she has lifted her arm and
let it drop," came in a whisper down the stairs.
He answered not a word, but reeled into his office
and shut the door. If a thousand hands had com-
bined to push him into Genevieve's presence at that
moment, he felt that he would have resisted them
all. For at the sight of this woman waiting to
address him, such a flash of hope had gone through
him that she would cry death instead of life, that
he knew his faith had been shaken, and that he no
longer looked upon his wife as the idol of his life,
for whom every excuse should be made, and to
whom all adoration should be offered.
But he was a strong man and did not allow this
mood to hold him long. Soon, very soon, he was
able to go up-stairs; and once at her door, his pro-
460


464
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
worth, but on the contrary he found the inspector
quite alone.
“Ah, Cameron,” remarked that gentleman, as he
entered, “so you had a taste of the storm where
you were. Remarkable experience, wasn't it?"
Then without further delay, observed, “ And so you
could make nothing out of Molesworth? Well, I
am not surprised; you went at it probably in the
wrong way."
“There is no doubt about that," Dr. Cameron
returned ; “I do not pretend to be a detective, and
could only show my—”
“I know," interrupted the inspector, gently.
“What I meant was that you probably expected
him to tell you whether Genevieve Gretorex gave
to Mildred Farley the poison which she drank.
Now that is a question he could not answer. But
what he could have told you was—"
“What?” The doctor spoke tremulously, for
the inspector had a strange look on his face.
The latter hesitated; he had evidently pur-
posed saying something vital but thought better of
it at present and produced some papers from his
desk instead.
“Dr. Cameron," he began, glancing at these
papers as he talked, “ do you remember, in our last
interview, urging various arguments in proof that
Genevieve Gretorex could not in reason have com-
mitted the crime imputed to her?"
Dr. Cameron bowed his head.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
465
“Well, Mr. Gryce made a note of these, and of
some other things you said at that time, and I
would be obliged to you if you would glance them
over to refresh your mind and prepare yourself for
something I am going to say."
“ But-"
“I know you are suffering and that it will be
kindness to you to cut short your suspense, but-
the words are not many ; read them, Dr. Cameron,
read them.” And he thrust the paper into the doc-
tor's hand.
But though the latter looked at it with great ear-
nestness, he evidently received no impression from
the words before him, and the inspector seeing this,
took the paper away again, saying:
“You shall see it later; it will perhaps be better
for me now to tell you that from the facts and
arguments you adduced at our last meeting, we
have come to the conclusion that Genevieve Gre-
torex was not accountable for the death that took
place in her room. That she neither gave poison
nor profited by its use; that she was a victim, and
that the woman you married—”
· He stopped, eyed the doctor who was trembling
like an aspen and glowing like a being suddenly
lifted out of hell into heaven.
“You never got that from any arguments I
used,” cried the doctor. “You have seen Moles-
worth and he-"
But the inspector interposed, gravely :
30


466
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“Yes, we have seen Molesworth but he added
little to the knowledge we had. No, no, it was
your admissions which proved to us that Genevieve
Gretorex is innocent. And yet—" he went on,
checking the doctor's joy with a sudden look, “ we
cannot offer you our congratulations, for with this
conviction comes the painful alternative that she is
only so because it was not the substitute and pro-
totype of your betrothed bride that perished in that
hour, but the bride herself, and that the woman
you call your wife, and who now lies under the sur-
veillance of the police is not the elegant and fastid-
ious heiress of Mr. Gretorex, but-Bear up, Cam-
eron; there is hope for you in all this—the able,
ardent, and aspiring Mildred Farley."


XXXIX.
THE LAST HOPE.
marriage of been knallal. The
THE blow had fallen; it had been long delayed
but it had come at last, and for a moment Dr. Cam-
eron looked crushed. Then he recovered himself
and said, though somewhat faintly:
“This is surmise on your part ; you have no
proof that such is the fact ?"
“No actual proof, no ; but plenty of what you
might call circumstantial. The fact that Mrs. Cam.
eron has not been known to write a word since her
marriage, is one.”
The doctor gave a gasp of dismay. Though he
had never thought of it in that light, it was un-
doubtedly true that she had avoided every oppor-
tunity for showing her handwriting. Yet he said :
“ She has had the rheumatism. She-".
“She has had anything that would serve as an
excuse for suppressing such tokens of the stupen-
dous fraud she was practising as would have been
afforded by the not-to-be-concealed difference be-
tween her handwriting and that of the lady she was
personating. But we will not press the matter
now. Hear your own words and see if you can ex-
.
467


468
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
plain by any other theory, the facts which you have
yourself observed in reference to this matter."
And the inspector, taking up the paper he had before
handed to the doctor, observed : “ The main argu.
ment used by you in defence of Genevieve Gret-
orex's innocence when you thought Genevieve
Gretorex your wife, is the fact that sufficient time
did not elapse after the death of the other, for that
interchange of clothing necessitated by the situa-
tion. These are your words.
“ To undress an inanimate body down to the last de-
tail and then to put upon it again, article after article
of her own clothing:—Why she had not the time, not
if she worked with lightning fingers and unerring
touch.
“When we think of the length of time usually spent
by women upon such matters, and recall the fact that
in the appearance of neither were there any signs of
hurry or neglect, we can draw but one conclusion.
“And what is that?” suggested the inspector.
“Why that the clothing found upon the corpse was
the same which she had worn in life. That the
girls made no interchange of garments and that con-
sequently the woman you married was the same
you saw in her bridal garments when you first came
to the house; viz., Mildred Farley. It is not the
conclusion you drew, but is it not the only sensible
one?”
Dr. Cameron could not say no.
“For," pursued the inspector, “if there was not


THE TWO DOCTORS.
469
time for one pair of hands to do all the dressing and
undressing required if death came before the change
of garments had been effected, neither was there
time for it had it been attempted when both pair
of hands could have been employed. A bride
cannot be arrayed in a moment, and, as you say,
both women were dressed with the utmost nicety
and care. But there is another fact I ask you to
consider. I again quote your own words.
“She-that is the woman now bearing your name
-is disappointed in Miss Foote (Miss Gretorex's
most intimate friend, you remember) and will not
receive her nor talk about her. A strange freak, doc-
tor, if your wife was Miss Gretorex, but a most nat-
ural precaution if she were Mildred Farley. For
parents such as Mr. and Mrs. Gretorex-adopted
parents remember, and of a most formal type--
could be more easily hoodwinked than an intimate
school-friend, versed in every secret of the other's
heart.”
The doctor could not deny this, either.
“ Then the freshness and ardor of your wife, Dr.
Cameron. Were they those of a woman accus-
tomed to the triumphs and gayeties of society ?
Listen.
“ There was a time in Washington when she seemed
more alive and eager in her enjoyments than ever be-
fore in my experience of her. Your experience had
been with Miss Gretorex you will not forget. She
glowed with pride and joy as she could not have done


470
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
if she had—been, let me add, the woman called
Genevieve Gretorex, baffled in her love and wearied
by a life-time of social excitements and follies.”
And the doctor, seeing before him the beaming
picture of his wife as she looked in those few days,
remained silent, asking himself if the confusion un-
der which he labored, was that of reality or of a
dream from which he would yet awake.
The inspector spoke again. .
“Forgive me for advancing one last and final
argument which seems to me still more convincing
than the others. It is in reference to Dr. Moles-
worth.
"If she worried about him, it was only such worry
as any woman would experience who felt she had led
an innocent man into a dangerous trap from which
her own safety forbade her to release him. A condi-
tion of mind arguing a peculiar coldness if she were
the woman who had once loved him, but not so pe-
culiar if she were simply his friend and acquaint-
ance, Mildred Farley."
“ But-"
“Wait ; hear one quotation more.”
“ From the hour Miss Gretorex became my wife 1
saw nothing to arouse my jealousy; nor can I in
looking back now, remember a look or word which
would add fuel to the fire you seem anxious to kin-
dle."
“Those are your words, Dr. Cameron, and they
best explain why I pressed you so hard at that time


THE TWO DOCTORS.
471
for some confession which would refute the suspi-
cion which your conversation had involuntarily
caused in the minds of Mr. Gryce and myself. For
if you had married the woman you supposed, some
tokens of her late passion must have been observ-
able in her, and from the fact that you detected
none, we were forced and are forced still, notwith-
standing her success, and the merely vague doubts
which some subtle difference in her has aroused in
the breasts of her friends, to believe that what I
stated to you in the beginning of this interview is
true : That the woman who perished, and upon
whose body the inquest was held, was she to whom
you were engaged to be married, while she who
bears your name, and holds with such confidence
and power that other's position before the world, is
simply her sister Mildred, whose willingness to
assume that position and her astonishing aptitude
for it, we have Miss Gretorex's own words to show.
Is the discovery too humiliating, Dr. Cameron, or
have you any such evidence as her possession of
Miss Gretorex's accomplishments, to prove that we
have made a mistake, and that our conclusions are
false?”
On the contrary, at that word accomplishments,
Dr. Cameron recalled how Genevieve (he had no
other name for her) had always found some excuse
for not exercising her supposed talents as a singer
and player. He had not wondered at the time, but
now-And her plea of rheumatism! how false it


472
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
was; how false he had known it to be all the time!
And the wedding-ring that would not fit, and her
attitude towards her parents and their evident
alienation from her; all these details rose before his
mind's eye, to be lost and swamped in the one great
fact, made, as he could now see, most of by the
inspector, that this woman loved him with the fer-
vor, freshness and absorbing quality of a first love,
which if she were Genevieve, argued a lightness of
character certainly not borne out by her general
conversation and manner! And yet how believe a
fact that reversed all his ideas, and gave him for
wife a woman he had never known, never courted,
never asked to marry him ; a woman-But here
his thoughts became confused, and he turned
almost helplessly towards the inspector.
“You see it is not a question to be answered in
an instant,” remarked that gentleman, with sympa-
thetic earnestness.
"I do not attempt to answer it, I shall not.
When Genevieve—Mrs. Cameron, has reached a
condition in which it will be safe for me to put such
a question, I will ask her to tell me the truth and
she will do it.” .
“You think so? Well, that might do if it were
yourself only who must be satisfied; but unhappily
there is the police, and I do not think we should
feel the question fully settled by this means."
“Not if she acknowledged she was Mildred
Farley?"


474
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
more for friendship than for love. Besides, a woman
who had deceived his hopes and fled from a mar.
riage with him to unite herself to another, would
not awaken the same sympathy in him as Mildred
Farley might.”
“You have seen him ; you have talked with him;
he has confessed to you."
“No; Dr. Molesworth would not answer any
questions last night. He was sick, or appeared so,
very sick I should say."
Dr. Cameron thought of the look he had last seen
upon his new friend's face, and wondered if out of
consideration for himself, Dr. Molesworth had been
suppressing symptoms, which he knew were tend-
ing towards serious illness.
“He was in the water, Q informed me, on that
coldest of cold days; and this, with the priva-
tions you have suffered, may have occasioned dis-
ease. But he may also be attempting some trick
upon us, and to make sure this is not so, I think it
better for you to accompany me in my next visit.
Are you ready to go ?”
Was he not? Upon Molesworth now depended
all his hope. He alone could satisfy him concern-
ing a fact which meant everything to him. He fol-
lowed the inspector with alacrity, and they pro-
ceeded at once to Mrs. Olney's house.
Why was it that the doctor's heart sank as he
approached, and the very house front looked repel.
lant and uncommunicative? Was not Molesworth


THE TWO DOCTORS.
475
his friend, and would he not see that a doubt like
this must be settled, no matter what the conse-
quences? He hurried forward as he reached the
steps, but faltered when it came to ringing the bell.
The inspector, however, did this for him, and when
the door was opened, put the question which
elicited the reply:
“Oh, he is much worse this morning, sir. The
doctor we called in says he is afraid he will not last
through the day.”
Struck to his very heart of hearts, Dr. Cameron
reeled where he stood, but only for a moment; the
next he was on the threshold of Molesworth's
room.
Mrs. Olney met him before he could pass within.
“Oh!” she cried, “he has been calling for you.
Not an hour of the night but he has murmured
your name. He is very ill; and does not know the
face of any one who goes near him. To think he
should have come back for this."
Cold as stone, and with a heart like lead, Dr.
Cameron stepped by her and approached the bed.
Good God! was this the same man he had parted
from yesterday! He could not believe his eyes, he
could not believe his understanding. He stared at
the poor, hollow-eyed, delirious creature before
him, and had neither words nor thoughts. He was
only conscious of hopes that went down, down,
down.
“It is a bad case of acute pneumonia," whis.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
477
“and yet he seems quieter since you came in.
Hark! there he is calling your name again."
And sure enough, a piteous “Walter! Walter
Cameron !” broke that moment from the sick man's
lips, and going to the heart of the watcher, brought
the tears to those stern eyes, which all his own
woes had not been able to call forth.
And thus, for a couple of hours, when without
warning there came a change, and the dying man
looking up, knew Cameron, and breathed a soft
sigh that sounded so natural that the latter took
heart, and bending over him, said,
“You have something to tell me, Julius. It
will take but one breath, and will make me your
debtor forever. Which sister did I marry?
Answer me that, dear friend, and I will ask you
nothing more."
And for a moment, it seemed as if the sick man
would answer; for he opened his lips and endeav-
ored to speak, but failed.
"O God! O God!" cried Dr. Cameron, in de-
spair ; “must I see him die with that one word
unsaid? Julius, Julius, you can lift your hand.
If it is Genevieve Gretorex who is now my wife,
raise your right hand.”
It did not move.
“If it is Mildred Farley, raise up your left."
That did not move.
“Cannot you tell me," pursued Cameron, wildly,
“or will you not? You say you love me, show it


478
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
now. Your right hand, Molesworth, or your left,
Genevieve or Mildred, which is it?”.
But though a strange, yearning look came into
the dying man's face, he did not stir: and the
doctor seeing it, desisted from his efforts and put
as it were all selfish thoughts away from between
them, and bending down, reverently kissed the
forehead, damp now with the dews of death.
A thrill that seemed to have nothing but hap-
piness in it, passed through the outstretched form.
The hand he had refused to move passed slowly
towards Walter, and gave it one earnest pressure,
then the deep, unreadable eyes faintly closed as it
were forever, when Dr. Cameron stooping nearer,
murmured in his ear:
“Bridget Halloran walked the length of the
ward for the first time to-day, and you have re-
ceived the credit.”
Instantly a smile shone out on those pale lips,
and the eyes opened again with a look that Dr.
Cameron was in vain trying to read, when a well-
known voice murmured slowly and solemnly in
his ear:
“It is all over, doctor; we must find some
other way of getting at the truth you want.”


XL.
THE GREAT QUESTION.
" SOME other way? what other way?” A little
time had passed, and Dr. Cameron stood in the par-
lor alone with Mr. Gryce.
The detective meditated. He had passed his
prime but he was the great Gryce yet. How should
he find his way out of this difficulty ?
“I cannot wait,” pursued the doctor, “ for the
slow process of comparison and investigation. I
must know at once and without a doubt whom I
have been cherishing in my bosom.”
“And we," subjoined the other, “must also
know.” And his tone became curt and business-
like. “What was the last word from your home ?"
he asked.
“That my wife had moved again, but slightly."
An expression passed over the detective's face,
which if it had been seen by those who knew him
best, would certainly have aroused great curiosity
and interest. For he only looked thus when he had
made some famous discovery, or originated some
deep-laid plan calculated to settle a vexed question.
“ You want to know," he cried, “how we can all
479


482
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
so complete, owing to the use of a screen which has
been placed at the side of the bed in a way to cut
off a view of the fireplace and such portions of the
room as were out of harmony with this idea, that
we are not at all astonished to see Mildred's little
stand, with her favorite books and knick-knacks
upon it, and close by, with her plain, benevolent
face turned toward the silent form still stretched in
its old quietude on the changed bed, the figure of
Mrs. Olney herself, gazing with watchful eye and
eager interest at the countenance which to all
glances but her own, looks out of place upon these
coarse pillows, and amid belongings so poor and
common.
For in the dimness made by the curtains and the
fast-approaching nightfall, two other forms can be
faintly seen, waiting, as all things in the world seem
to wait at such a moment, for the renewed stir in
those quiescent limbs and fallen eyelids, which
would tell of life returned to this long unconscious
body. They were those of Dr. Cameron and Mr.
Gryce, and it would be hard to tell which counte-
nance betrayed the most intent interest, though
there would have been no difficulty in determining
which had the husband's anxiety at heart and which
the detective's. The hour was six, and the silence
something appalling. In it you could hear but one
sound: the beating of the doctor's heart.
“You said that the powder you gave her would
lose its effect in forty minutes,” whispered Mr.


484
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
The sound of a step, the smell of some pungent
odor about the bed-head and Mrs. Olney found it
unnecessary to answer ; unconsciousness had settled
again upon the partially awakened woman.


XLII.
THE QUESTION SETTLED.
“I do not care for compliments, sir." And yet
the detective looked decidedly gratified notwith-
standing. “I merely wished to satisfy you and sat-
isfy myself that it was not the adopted daughter of
Mr. Gretorex whom you had made your wife. The
experiment was satisfactory? You are thoroughly
convinced ?"
“I was convinced before. I have never had
more than a passing doubt from the moment this
possibility was suggested to me. There were too
many facts in the past to confirm it ; petty facts, ig-
nored at the time, but showing themselves now in
their true light as the way-marks of a great and skil.
fully carried out deception. Her ignorance, hidden
under sphinx-like smiles which made it look like
wisdom, or at the worst, indifference; her caprice
about names which she vowed she never remem-
bered; her professed short-sightedness; her silence
when conversation was expected; her talkativeness
when silence would have been more appropriate;
the wit with which she parried attacks; the glance
and the smile which filled all gaps and disarmed all
485


488
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
"I am. How can I help it when it gives me a
wife uncontaminated by a mad, if innocent passion
for another man."
“But a—a—"
“ Dressmaker you would say. I know, but also
Genevieve's sister and her superior in intellect,
beauty, and I dare to hope, worth," interjected the
doctor. “For though she entered into this fraud
without seeming compunction, she has since given
signs of honest repentance for the wrong she has
done, and with it shown such affection for the man
she has deceived, that I am sure she needs nothing
but a show of considerate feeling on my part to
develop into a woman I can not only love but
respect.”
Mr. Gryce came forward again.
“You make my duty very hard,” said he.
“ Your duty ?”
“You seem to think the whole matter is settled
by this discovery of Mrs. Cameron's real identity,
and that you have nothing before you but a recon-
ciliation with your wife.”
Dr. Cameron uttered an ejaculation. “And do
you mean to say that you still retain the suspicions
you entertained of her when you thought her the
maddened and desperate daughter of Mr. Gre-
torex?”
The detective sighed; he was evidently weary of
the tormentor's part he had had to play so long.
“I should have thought,” he observed, gently,


THE TWO DOCTORS.
489
“that you would have perceived without my aid,
that the suspicions already attached to your wife by
the police would be heightened rather than dimin-
ished by the discovery that it was Genevieve Gret-
orex's substitute who survived to marry you instead
of Genevieve herself.”.
"I had not looked at it so. I felt so sure this
was her great secret that I never questioned if she
possessed another.”
“I wish that we were not obliged to. But when
we think of the circumstances and consider the
temptation she was under, we dare not let the mat-
ter slide without a legal investigation. For if Miss
Gretorex had sufficient determination to undertake
the reëstablishment of herself as Mr. Gretorex's
daughter and your bride, she certainly had enough
to carry that undertaking through if she had not
been stopped in some forcible way by Mildred.
She did not carry it through. What then are we to
think? That she threw away her life to please a
sister's whim, or that that sister found some way of
inducing the death which left her in the enviable
position she had assumed ?"
There could be but one answer.
“The poison was Genevieve's. It was in a
casket in Genevieve's drawer. Is it credible that
Mildred should know this, or knowing it, be able to
use it upon Genevieve without that person perceiv-
ing what was being given her to drink?”.
" It is the weak point. In opposition to it we


490
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
offer but one suggestion. Molesworth, who was the
first on the scene, and who from his services seems
to have understood the situation, showed the deter-
mination and forethought we would expect from a
man desirous of concealing a murder. His whole
action shows that he thought Mildred Farley had
committed a crime, and if he thought som"
“We do not know what he thought; we can
never take his thoughts into account; he is dead,
and we have no record of his beliefs," asserted Dr.
Cameron, boldly. But the blow had told, he knew
—who so well—that Molesworth was afraid to com-
municate to him the truth as to the identity of his
wife, and what could this fear argue but a belief in
the guilt which this discovery would make apparent.
“We will not argue the question any further, Dr.
Cameron," the detective now declared. “While
there were doubts as to my duty, I was willing and
more than willing to talk, but now that I see my
way pretty clear, I have no desire to say anything
more and would advise you as a friend to say noth-
ing more either.”
This was a new tone for the detective to take and
it struck Dr. Cameron forcibly. He saw that what-
ever his own convictions might be, whatever the
truth even, she held in the eyes of the police at
least, the position of a possible criminal and must
ever hold it, now that her only witness had perished,
unless by some decisive action of his, the terrific
question could be at once and forever settled.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
491
experimed satisfied ildred Far
Looking at Mr. Gryce and seeing how sober he had
become, he took his resolve.
“I have an experiment to try," said he. “You
have made your test, and satisfied us all that Mrs.
Cameron's maiden name was Mildred Farley. I
would like the same opportunity of proving to you
that though she took her sister's place and identity,
she did not take her life. Will you come up stairs
again, Mr. Gryce ?”
But the detective hesitated.
“I know what you contemplate," he affirmed,
“and would advise you to pause. It is a risky
thing you are going to do. Besides, as the lady is
not necessarily your wife—"
“What?”
“No court in the country would hold you to
a marriage forced upon you by such fraud.”
The doctor Aushed, looked away, and for a mo-
ment was silent. Then he declared, firmly :
“She is my wife ; I accept her as such, however
my experiment ends. I should have no right to
make it, did I not expect to share the consequences
of it with her."
Mr. Gryce took off his hat. Was it in deference,
or because he had determined to stay? Both, per-
haps.
“Then you are resolved, knowing that in doing
this, you make a witness of me?”
“Yes, for I believe in her innocence, and must
have it established before the world.” And he led


492
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Mr. Gryce back into his wife's room, saying, “ I will
not keep you waiting long. The effects of the
drug I administered to her, must have nearly passed
away.”
The scene to which they thus returned was not
that of a few minutes ago. The poor and sordid
furniture had been removed, and the rich and
stately belongings of the room restored. The form
of Mrs. Olney had been replaced by that of the
nurse, and nowhere was there to be seen the least
token of that strange and remarkable transforma-
tion which had deceived the half-wakened woman
into a belief that she was a girl again. Even the
rings had been restored to her hands, and on the
table near by, ticked the watch which her husband
had given her in those happy days in Washington.
As for herself, she lay quiet, though her eyelids
fluttered faintly, and now and then her limbs moved
as if she were in grief or pain.
“ I will sit here," asserted the doctor, going up to
the nurse and motioning her to one side. Then
taking her place, he drew his wife's right hand
in his, and pressing it slightly, watched the effect,
with a steady look from which he had suppressed
every expression save that of gentleness and love.
The touch seemed to awaken the slumbering life
within her. Opening her eyes, she fixed them with
a wild stare on his face that preserved its loving
look, though his heart was in a turmoil of wild and
contradictory emotions.


494
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
me when you found that I had gained your name
by a fraud.” And two great tears crept from be-
tween her closing eyelids, and rolled slowly down
her cheeks. “Let me thank God !” she breathed,
and tried to put her two hands together but was
too weak, so only smiled.
As for the doctor, he crushed back the tears that
were rising to his own eyes, and looking at her ten-
derly, said :
“And is this the only trouble you have had ?
Was there no other anxiety or fear on your mind?”
“Why, no. What other could I have? Was not
that enough? To lose your love-O, Walter, you
do not know what that love is to me! But I will
show you, if I live ; I will show you yet.”
And raising her heavy lids, she looked at him
with so much frankness, earnestness, and truth,
that the doctor rose, triumphant, and glanced across
at the place where Mr. Gryce had stood.
But that gentleman had shifted his position and
now stood at the door, hat in hand.
“I beg leave to bid you good-evening,” he ob-
served, as he felt the doctor's eyes fall on him. “If
you have any further business with me, let me
know. I feel that I have no more with you, and
now let me offer you my congratulations.”
And with the most benevolent of nods, he turned
his broad back upon the happy husband and wife,
and silently slipped from the house.


XLIII.
THE DOORS SWUNG BACK.
SOME six weeks later, Mr. Gryce received the fol.
lowing communication:
“During the last few days, I have been told by
my husband of the fearful suspicion which my con.
duct had given rise to in the minds of the police.
Though I have done much that was blameworthy,
and am in no degree worthy of the happiness which
has fallen to my lot, I did no wrong to my sister,
nor could I have done any, though consequences
worse than any I anticipated had followed the dis-
appointment of her return. To convince you of
this I write these explanations, for though I can
have no hope of regaining your regard, I certainly
may expect from you that just estimate of my char.
acter, which is due to the wife of so noble a man as
Walter Cameron.
"I was never happy as a girl. Born with an am.
bitious spirit, and a strong taste for all that is elegant
and inspiring in life, I not only was prevented by
poverty from indulging in any of my numerous as-
pirations, but was kept back from that culture of my
own powers, which is torture to one who feels her
495


THE TWO DOCTORS.
497
not she who would be in possession of the heiress'
place, enjoying all those pleasures that to my girlish
understanding were magnified into ecstasies by the
contrast they afforded to my daily, occupations and
tasks.
“ But, though I suffered from these longings and
experienced this envy, you must not think I neg.
lected my mother or dreamed of any change as re.
garded my sister or myself. I did not even try to
see that sister, though I wasted many hours that
should have been spent in sleep, in dreaming over
her joys, and mentally comparing her situation with
my own. The truth is, I could not have found her
except by means from which I naturally shrank;
for though my mother had told me she lived in
town, and was one of the elegant ladies I sometimes
saw crowding into the theatres or opera-houses, she
had never told me her name or given me any hint
as to what part of the city held her home.
" I was therefore greatly surprised and very much
cazzled when one day she said to me that she could
not die without embracing both her children ; that
though she had taken an oath never to intrude
upon the child she had given away, that her long-
ing was so great that she was determined not only
to see her child but to reveal to her the relationship
in which they stood.
""But,' I exclaimed, dimly conscious that such an
act would entail consequences of whose importance
we could not at that moment judge, “if she does
20


THE TWO DOCTORS.
499
before me, standing in an attitude that betrayed a
perfect familiarity with all these gorgeous surround-
ings, myself, in all but costume and a certain deli-
cacy of breeding which in that one instant of deep
emotion, went like a dagger to my heart, so
ardently had I longed for just such an air and just
such a culture! The words of my mother had pre-
pared me for a likeness, but not for such an absolute
one. Or rather no one's words could prepare a
woman for seeing unmoved a reproduction of her-
self in living flesh and blood. And when after the
first agitation which was happily hid by my veil, I
had an opportunity for studying her closer, I was
yet more astonished if less shocked, to notice how
her very tricks of manner were familiar, and how
often she used her hands in just such a way as I
have seen myself do a thousand times. Yet she
was a lady, high-bred to her very finger-ends, while
I was simply well-bred and full of ambition to be
what I in that moment saw exemplified before me.
Our heights were the same, but when afterwards I
came to measure her, I perceived that I was just an
inch larger about the waist.
“Seeing me, as she thought, embarrassed, she
spoke first. The voice dumbfounded me. There
was a cadence in it which was lacking in my own,
and yet it was like catching the notes of some of
those speeches I used frequently to make to myself
in the long hours of solitary sewing. It impressed
me so, I hesitated to answer. .


500
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
““You have some request to make,' she now said.
•What is it? I am in a mood to be gracious”;
and she smiled, but so coldly I asked myself if my
face lighted up no more when I was happy. Alas!
I did not know then that she was only indifferently
so, and that the joys I supposed made her heart
beat with rapture from day to day, had grown more
stale and uninteresting to her enervated mind, than
ever my work had done to ine, notwithstanding I
hated it and was, perhaps, as far as disposition goes,
above it and its perpetual grind.
“But this is telling what I felt, not what I
replied. For I answered this question, making her
start a little at my first tones, and informing her
I was a dressmaker, I asked for some of her work.
I have before related this scene, but I did not at
that time cling absolutely to the truth. I had a
tremendous secret to conceal, and knew no other
way of doing it than by assuming Genevieve's past
as I had already assumed her present. But at this
hour there no longer remains the least motive for
concealing or misinterpreting anything connected
with this matter, and I beg you to consider what I
say as truth, notwithstanding the blur that lies over
my honesty, from the false tales I told before I real-
ized how I was shaking my husband's confidence in
me by such methods.
“ To Genevieve, then, my first words were regard.
ing work; but when I saw that she would never
give me this without her sympathies were in


THE TWO DOCTORS.
501
some way enlisted, I ceased speaking of my qualifi.
cations as a dressmaker and entered upon my per-
sonal history. I began by telling her that I had a
sick mother and that this mother had an inconsol-
able grief ; that she pined for a child who did not
even know she had such a mother in existence.
And with this for a text I told the whole story, with
just an omission of names, watching her face for
the dawning realization which I anticipated seeing
there. But it did not come. She listened patiently
as she had probably done a hundred times before,
to what she considered a tale of distress, and not
till I asked her, in what I meant to be a significant
tone, whether she knew any young lady in her own
social circle to whom these facts could apply, did
she show the least agitation. Then indeed she did
turn upon me and requested me to lift my veil,
and when I ignored her demand, sat gazing with
something like a wakening apprehension in her
eyes.
“ Then I thought the time had come to speak
plainly, and laying aside all disguise, I observed
simply:
“• It is your mother, I have been talking about,
and it is your sister who is speaking to you. Par-
don me if I have not broken this gently enough to
you. I am little used to such matters and the
secret will not stay with me. I cannot see my own
flesh and blood and hold back the truth any
longer.'


502
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“And what did she say? Not what I expected.
Instead of looking stunned, humiliated or angry,
she merely gave me a steady glance, and asked
what proof I had in support of this astounding as-
sertion,
" The best in the world,' I replied, and tearing
off my veil, I stood before her.
" It was a strange experience, that interview.
After the first astonishment and gush of emotion
was over, she showed an unexpected interest in
the situation and questioned me so fully that my
stay became greatly prolonged, and I grew anxious
and prayed her to let me go. But she was too
much interested, and would know just how we
lived, and whom we had for our friends. Then we
must compare ourselves in the mirror, and try on
each other's gloves, and submit to other tests to
show we were precisely alike. And we found that
though there was an amazing similarity in details
as well as general effect, her hands were a little
smaller and her dimples not so pronounced. Our
feet on the contrary were the same size, and when
she had put upon me one of her hats that was
lying near, I did not know whether it was she or
myself who smiled upon me from the glass.
“ Meantime it appeared that she was not so much
disturbed by the news as she was excited by it.
She had found something to interest her she said,
and promised to go and visit her mother the next


THE TWO DOCTORS.
503
day. As for the work I wished from her I should
have it, as it would give her the best excuse in the
world for visiting me. And so the one sister be.
came dressmaker to the other, and a series of visits
began, destined to end in what we least expected at
that hour-desperate tragedy.
“My sister had given no intimation of risking the
inheritance she expected from her reputed parents
by any disclosure to them of the knowledge which
had been communicated to her; so that I was in
nowise surprised when she appeared next day as
heavily veiled as I had been in visiting her. But
what did astonish me was the eagerness with which
she entered into relations that must have seemed
far from elegant after her experience with the
Gretorex family. Was it that in my mother's pas-
sionate embrace she felt a warmth of love that she
had hitherto missed? It may be, but I rather
think it was owing to the influence which Dr.
Molesworth's strange, sad eyes had upon her even at
that early day.
“He was my mother's physician and had been in
the habit of visiting her daily. On this day he
came as usual, and receiving no reply to his knock,
fancied that my mother was asleep, and so opened
the door softly and came in.
“The first we knew of his presence he was before
us, and as we had supposed the door locked, we were
utterly taken by surprise, and were as we thought
lost, for my sister was without her veil and I was


504
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
standing by her side in a position to bring out the
likeness between us to its fullest extent.
“But Genevieve who had most to lose, showed
neither chagrin nor alarm. Nor when the whole
matter had been explained, as it presently was by
my mother, did she utter one protest or seem in
any way distressed. She had looked at the doctor
and he had looked at her, and as the fruit of that
look, Genevieve Gretorex became a changed wo-
man.
"I did not suspect it at first, but gradually the
truth dawned upon me and I marvelled. For not
only could I see nothing in the doctor especially
attractive, but I did see in the prospect which her
expected marriage opened out before her, all that a
woman's heart could desire, were she poor as my.
self or rich as my more favored sister.
“For I was often at Mr. Gretorex's house now,
and in one of my visits I had seen Dr. Ca neron, and
though I was too filled with the idea that he was
the destined bridegroom of my sister, to understand
the feelings which his kind eyes and frank smile
awakened, I did think that there was nothing
more in the world for Genevieve to ask for, and com-
pared more than ever her gay and glorious exist
ence with the sad and desolate one promised me by
my mother's rapidly approaching death.
“But she showed no such satisfaction with her
lot, but rather looked with envy upon mine, which
she called a free one. And, so the days went by,


THE TWO DOCTORS.
505
and my mother's end grew near ; and finally the
very day came, and Genevieve did not know it and
could not come if she did, for others were grouped
about that bed, and we could not both stand there
without our secret being disclosed.
“Yet I felt that my mother would never die
happy without seeing her, and loving my mother,
I took at last a sudden resolve, and whispering in
her ear that I would fetch her darling, I left her
with a look of gratitude on her face, and going by
the shortest road to Mr. Gretorex's house, happily
found my sister at home. When I proposed that
she should put on my cloak and hat and thus
equipped, go back to my mother's side for the
blessing there awaiting her, she seized upon the
idea with avidity, and lost no time in carrying out
this plan, though it meant the leaving of myself in
her place.
"She went, and met her fate, for the doctor was
in that room of death; and when all was over--for
my mother died on Genevieve's breast-he took her
to his heart, and told her that he loved her, and
asked her to be his wife. Do not think he did this
under any misapprehension as to who she was. He
knew the rich woman from the poor girl, no matter
in what garb she was arrayed. I say rich woman,
but I do not mean that Julius Molesworth was
mercenary, exactly. He had no great longing for
money, nor would his love have faltered, if she had
come to him completely penniless.


THE TWO DOCTORS.
507
weak and dissatisfied breast. The old longings, the
old jealousy, the old sense of having been sup-
planted in my rights by a freak of the woman who
chose the infant whom my mother meant to keep,
rushed upon me with redoubled force; and though
I could not think she would lend herself seriously
to such a scheme, I found myself thrilling and
blushing as if it had been a reality I contemplated,
instead of some humorous supposition.
“She noticed this, and laughing with the first
touch of true merriment I had ever detected in her
voice, proposed that we should experiment a little.
So having interchanged our clothing, we subjected
ourselves to the tests already described in my sis-
ter's diary, and finding them so unexpectedly suc-
cessful, began to consider in real earnest the ques-
tion as to whether we might not interchange
positions without danger of detection.
“ The idea once cherished held us enthralled.
Neither could part from it, and though my risk
seemed the greater, I felt within me such a glow of
courage—you will probably call it presumption-
that I only asked for the moment to come when I
might throw aside the garb and habits of poor
dreaming Mildred Farley forever and be in truth
what I had so often seen myself in fancy, the
elegant and gracious lady who called Mr. and Mrs.
Gretorex father and mother, and would soon call
that man of men, Dr. Cameron, by the still dearer
title of husband. For I may acknowledge it now,


508
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
my whole girlish fancy was filled with the image of
my sister's betrothed, though I had only seen him
for a few passing moments. I had that feeling for
him which comes but once to girl and woman, and
though it lacked depth, as any such mere dream
must do, it possessed that fervor which lends an
ideal glow to the most every day experiences.
What then did it not add to that prospective
moment when under every influence calculated to
charm an ambitious nature, I was to make this sud-
den leap from poverty to riches, labor to ease, and
what moved me more than all the rest, from a state
of great insignificance to a position that would call
forth every latent energy of my soul.
“My sister was equally in earnest, but had more
apprehension than I. I consequently studied to
keep her spirits up, and succeeded, especially after I
had had a successful interview with Mr. and Mrs.
Gretorex and Dr. Cameron. This last, which we
naturally dreaded most, had been a real triumph,
and placed me in a condition of content that made
all and everything I had to do, easy.
“You have heard already something about the
final preparations we made. I will therefore add no
more to this portion of my tale than the assurance
that I never regarded the part I was to play, lightly.
That I knew what would be required of me and did
my utmost to meet those requirements. That I
gave what time I had to study, and subjected my-
self in all regards to my sister's criticism and advice.


510
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
ing butler, and then requesting him to tell Mrs
Gretorex I had returned, went immediately up-
stairs to Genevieve's room.
“One of the girls followed me in. She had mes.
sage after message to deliver concerning matters
and things connected with the wedding, all of which
I heard, and some of which I answered. Then
there came an instant of solitude, in which I cast
one free and delightful look about me, which how-
ever was soon cut short by the entrance of Mrs.
Gretorex.
“I own I had one instant of doubt as I turned
towards her. But it vanished in a moment, and I
was able to reply to her questions and show such
interest in the presents which had come, that she
forgot her displeasure at the anxiety she had been
made to suffer, and entered into a conversation so
animated, that the spirits I could hardly repress,
came so near breaking their bounds, that I grew
alarmed at myself and had to resort to some of
Genevieve's many caprices to shorten the interview.
After she was gone, I sat down, and breathing one
long breath of relief, fell to brooding—not over the
jewels and innumerable treasures which in the last
half hour had become mine, but over Dr. Cam-
eron's picture which I had found at a glance, and
which I now felt I had a right to study and ad-
mire.
“When the time came to dress, I called one of the
girls into the room; but I soon dismissed her. I


THE TWO DOCTORS.
511
could not bear the presence of a stranger at such a
time ; besides I wanted to take one more look at
myself in the mirror and see if I were indeed the
bride which Dr. Cameron had a right to expect
from that house. But when I was left alone I
found so much to excite and interest me in the rap-
idly growing hubbub of arriving guests, that I could
barely spare myself one glimpse at the figure in the
glass. But that glimpse calmed me. It was not
Mildred Farley that I saw, but Genevieve Gretorex
-only Genevieve Gretorex, happy, and free from
certain conventional restraints.
“My husband will tell you that he saw me in this
mood. He came to the door and for one instant
our eyes met in what I may safely call the most
rapturous moment of my life. The next I 'ad cast
a glance down the hall, and there, in the blaze of
light that was shining in every direction, I saw what
I was sure for a moment must be a hallucination
of my overwrought brain, the advancing figure of
Genevieve Gretorex.
“ Had a lightning flash shot down through the
gilded ceiling and split open the floor at my feet, I
could not have been more overwhelmed. For I re-
alized as soon as I could realize anything, that she
had returned to assert her rights, and that my hopes,
my happiness, and my love were all at an end.
“But—and this I swear by all that is most sacred
-no thought of evil to her ever crossed my mind,
even after she had entered the room and we stood


514
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
“ • Mildred, there is death in this. One sip and
this fearful question is settled.'
“She had it to her lips. I shrieked, but I did not
know why I shrieked. Even then I had no realiza-
tion of what she was doing. But when in another
moment I saw the change which almost instan-
taneously crossed her face, I seemed to feel what
that word death meant, and springing to her side,
I tore the phial out of her hand and fung it down
on the floor.
“ Genevieve,' I cried, . what have you done ?'
“She looked at me wildly.
“I don't know,' she gasped, 'I-I am afraid I
have spoiled all. I thought I should live to reach
the street, but it acts too quickly- She was actu.
ally sinking.
“I made a move ; I am sure I made a move to-
wards the door; but she cried out so earnestly,
“The roll in my bag, the roll, the roll,' that I
turned and rushed for it, and was going to hand it
to her, when she said: “It is for him ; Molesworth.
Hide it, and when you can, give it to him.'
“I thrust it between the cushions of the lounge
near which I stood. I was all in a daze ; the room
whirled about me, and I was almost mad. But
I managed to reach her side just as she fell.
“Cover me up,' she murmured. •Go down, and
let nothing stand in the way of your marriage.
One-of-us-must-be-happy.'


THE TWO DOCTORS.
515
"I thought all was over, and stood petrified, but
she managed to speak again.
“Tell him,- Julius,—that my last—words were-
that he should-leave you-alone in your-happi-
ness. That he should-help-'.
“The poison had done its work. While I was
thinking what folks did in such awful straits, she
had suffered her last, and was quite still.
“I seemed to grow calm in an instant. She was
dead, and she had said with her last breath that I
was to go down at the summons, and be married.
Could I? I seemed to think I could, but O, the
horror of leaving her there with her tell-tale face
and open, accusing eyes! That was too dreadful.
I must hide this awful picture of myself, some-
where ; but where ? Glancing towards the alcove,
my eye fell on a heap of clothing I had torn down
from the closet-pegs in my hurry in dressing. I
would bury her under those, and I did. Where I
got the strength to do it I do not know. But in a
few minutes it was done, and I stood up, seemingly
alone, in that great chamber of never-to-be-forgotten
horrors.
“My first act was to listen; my next to look in the
mirror. The face I met was colorless, and my veil
was so disarranged I had to take it off and put it on
again. While I was doing this, a knock sounded on
the door; the summons from my bridegroom had.
come.
“ The next thing you will care to hear, were my


518
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Cameron, but if you are also the woman who prom-
ised to marry me,'
“I am not; I am the woman who loves Walter
Cameron. The woman who loved you lies there.'
And I tore aside the clothing that hid her and
showed her poor face to his horrified gaze.
“She preferred death to robbing me of my
hopes,' I said. “Though she came back expecting
to take my place and marry Dr. Cameron as she
had agreed, such despair seized her when she saw
me dressed and eager for the ceremony that she
seized a bottle of poison which she had concealed
in her jewel-casket and emptied it at a draught.'
“ He had by this time felt her pulse and smelt
the poison still lingering on her lips.
“• Prussic-acid,' he asserted, and rose up in a cer-
tain awful self-possession which filled me full of a
new horror even while it gave me hope.
"She died very quickly,' I now hastened to
say. 'I could not have procured help, even if she
had given me the opportunity of doing so. But
she did not. She was too anxious that I should
benefit by the sacrifice she had made. One of us
must be happy,' she insisted, and her last words
were, “Tell Dr. Molesworth he is not to stand in the
way of your happiness but help you.'
"Ah!' came from his lips at this, and he gave
me an unfathomable look. Did he doubt me?
Did any suspicion such as you have felt cross
his mind? I do not think so ; if it ever came-and


THE TWO DOCTORS.
519
from some hints my husband has given me concern.
ing his after conduct I fear that it ultimately did-
it was after he had had time to think of the whole
matter; otherwise he could scarcely have entered
into the situation as he did, or offered me so freely
his aid in the awful emergency in which I found
myself.
“For, with but the shortest moment given to
grief he turned upon me and asked if my secret was
still safe, and when I told him it was, he said,
shortly,
" You are in a frightful position : I see that.
You have married Dr. Cameron and are expecting his
presence every moment at the door. If she is seen,
you are lost, for you could not bear a comparison
with her, point for point, however perfectly you
carry off her appearance when alone. What then is
to be done? I can see but two alternatives. Either
acknowledge the whole and release the doctor-a
course I certainly should advise—or you must trust
me with this body to dispose of as I think fit.'
“I cannot tell Dr. Cameron,' was my answer.
'I have married him and I mean to live with him.
He would wish it if he knew. He loves me and
there is no Genevieve now. I hurt no one by my
action and I save everybody from deep and lasting
pain.'
“ His lip, stern as iron, just quivered for a moment,
as if he denied this last assertion, but he said,
"Listen, then, I will help you, Mildred, because,


520
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
hard-hearted as I am, I pity you. And this is how
I propose to do it. When you are gone-you are
going on a wedding-journey I presume-'
“I nodded.
“'I will carry Genevieve out, secretly if I can,
openly if I must, and putting her in my phaeton,
drive her to Mrs. Olney's house. My driver is with
me but I will dismiss him ; and by taking every
precaution possible to avoid observation, I may
succeed in getting away from the house, unnoticed.
If I do, I will say she took poison on the route;
if I do not, that she is ill, and that I, being a
physician and her engaged husband, am taking her
home. In either case I shall declare her to be
Mildred Farley; and to this story I shall cling
till you yourself inform me that your husband
knows the truth and that it is useless to persist
in the lie any longer. Do you understand me,
Mildred ?'
“I signified that I did; and he went on.
“I think I can manage it so that you will be
saved from all inquiries; if I do not, remember that
you are Genevieve Gretorex, and play your part
well. Now where is the bottle from which she
took the acid ?'
“I showed him, and he picked it up, and put it
in his pocket. He had hardly done this, when I
heard my husband's rap.
"Put out the light,' he motioned. “And keep


THE TWO DOCTORS.
521
him out of the room at all hazards,' he added, in
the lightest of whispers.
"I did as he bid, and succeeded in getting an-
other moment alone with him.
" . Have you her veil ? 'he asked.
“I had not, and knew not where to find it.
• • I must have one,' he said, 'to throw over her
face.'
"I tossed him the one I had intended to wear
myself. He took it, and I hastened to gather up
my own clothing and leave the room.
“When I went back again it was with Peter.
Remembering that Dr. Molesworth, in all probabil-
ity, knew nothing about the house we were in, I
took occasion to ask this man, as he lifted up my
trunk, who was in the kitchen. He answered, “No
one but the caterers, ma'am.' After which I in-
quired if the back-stairs were clear, and being told
they were, advised him to take the trunk down that
way, to which he replied that he intended to. I
finished by asking him to go round with the car.
riage to the side entrance where I should have some
money to give him. Thus, I freed the back-stairs
and gave to Dr. Molesworth, listening near, a hint
of the way he should go. I suppose he acted upon
it, but never having had the opportunity to speak
to him again alone, I do not know anything more
about it than the rest of the world.
“Of the events following that dreadful night, you
already are acquainted. From a belief that Dr.


522
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
Molesworth had succeeded in his undertaking I was
suddenly awakened to the consciousness that from
some error in judgment, he had laid himself open to
the worst kind of suspicion.
“Was it a shock, do you think? And when in a
still more dreadful hour that suspicion shifted to
myself, and I saw the secret upon which depended
my honor and happiness threatened with exposure,
do you wonder that my integrity succumbed to my
fears ?
“Driven by the instinct of self-preservation to
subterfuge and prevarication, I soon found myself
entangled in a net-work of deceit. Even when I
told the truth as I did to the inspector at the time
he pressed me to give him the name of the woman
who made my dresses, I followed it up by a lie to
my husband. For while the half coy, half auda-
cious admission that I had made them myself, was
calculated to silence the man whose questions I
feared, it would hardly have helped my cause with
the doctor, who had been told more than once
how helpless Genevieve Gretorex was with her
hands.
“And so the vain struggle went on till it was
suddenly made apparent to me that my husband's
respect was giving way before my duplicity.
“ Then in an agony of remorse I took an oath,
the keeping of which ultimately brought on the
revelations I feared. But I cannot regret this.
It has slain my husband's love for the false


THE TWO DOCTORS.
523
Genevieve, but from the ashes of this passion I
hope to see arise a love for Mildred Cameron that
will in time make the happiness of my life.
“ It is the aim of my existence to be henceforth
worthy of that happiness."


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