CASTLE 
 
 DOUBT 
 
 JOHN H, WHITSON
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT
 
 THE 
 
 Castle of Doubt 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN H. WHITSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE RAINBOW CHASERS," "BARBARA,, 
 A WOMAN OF THE WEST," ETC. 
 
 With a Frontispiece in Color from a Drawing by 
 I. H. Caliga 
 
 Boston 
 
 Little, Brown, and Company 
 1907
 
 Copyright, 1907, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Published May 1907 
 
 8. J. PAEKHFLI, & Co., BOSTON, U. 8. A,
 
 'PS' 
 
 "For Lovers were Liars ever." 
 
 OLD SONG. 
 
 1521425
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY i 
 
 II. I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 14 
 
 III. IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 22 
 
 IV. THE DISSEMBLER 37 
 
 V. BACK FROM THE DEAD 51 
 
 VI. WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 63 
 
 VII. IN THE FOOL'S PARADISE 73 
 
 VIII. INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 79 
 
 IX. THE RECEPTION 95 
 
 X. COURTNEY LANE THREATENS in 
 
 XI. POWDER IN MY PISTOL 117 
 
 XII. ASBURY RAND 125 
 
 XIII. THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 131 
 
 XIV. PURSUED 147 
 
 XV. "WAS EVERWOMAN IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED ?" 163 
 
 XVI. THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 173 
 
 XVII. UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 183 
 
 XVIII. DISQUIETING FEARS 193 
 
 v
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XIX. MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 203 
 
 XX. A DECLARATION OF WAR 218 
 
 XXI. THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 229 
 
 XXII. A HERO TO HIS MASTER 242 
 
 XXIII. CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 256 
 
 XXIV. A METAMORPHOSED PAST 268 
 
 XXV. LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 2/5 
 
 VI
 
 The Castle of Doubt 
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 "TULIAN!" 
 
 A witching voice called the name, and 
 a witching face looked out at me from 
 the carriage that had drawn up at the curb. 
 
 I had observed the carriage but a moment 
 before one of those brilliant equipages that 
 roll so noiselessly along the driveways of Cen 
 tral Park that you hear only the rhythmical 
 tattoo of the hoofs of the shining horses. 
 
 One who is still reasonably young and im 
 pressionable may I think be pardoned a quick 
 ening of the pulse-beats when addressed in that 
 way by the possessor of such a voice and face, 
 even though he has no recollection of ever 
 having heard the one or seen the other, and his 
 name is not Julian. 
 
 In addition, the spirit of Spring, which puts 
 a fuller crimson on the robin's breast, had 
 touched the world and me. I had been feeling 
 its jaunty lightness and bubbling effervescence,
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 and the earth seemed young, in spite of the 
 fact that I had that very morning spent a whole 
 half-hour pondering by the big Egyptian obelisk 
 and trying to make myself feel that the world is 
 very, very old indeed. Hence, when that voice 
 and those eyes called to me I was ready to 
 accept their invitation. 
 
 There were two young women in the carriage. 
 The driver had brought the horses up with a 
 sharp turn and the footman had leaped to the 
 ground. There was laughing delight in the 
 eyes of the Nymphs, I was sure. Or were they 
 Sirens, rather than Nymphs ? 
 
 The tang of the air, the flashing of sunlight 
 on the polished green of leaves, the crunch of 
 stamping hoofs, a bird-note in the near-by 
 branches, and the beckoning of a musical voice 
 and of moist blue eyes! Romance still disports 
 itself as freely as when Cleopatra put rouge on 
 her olive cheeks and steered her purple-sailed 
 and scented galleys out to meet Antony. Antony 
 yielded, as mere man always does when lovely 
 woman stoops to conquer, and as I am quite 
 ready to confess that I did in this instance. 
 
 "Julian!" the voice called again, more in 
 sistent. 
 
 "Yes ?" I answered, lifting my hat and step 
 ping lightly toward the carriage.
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 "Julian, this is delightful! Come, please, 
 before people begin to stare at us." 
 
 It was the nymph with the eyes of blue who 
 said this. The other was a nut-brown maid a 
 trifle younger, with a general "tan" effect 
 which extended from her gloves to her cheeks. 
 I thought she was laughing roguishly. In the 
 eyes of blue was a look I could not fathom; 
 yet, to my surprise, I fancied I detected a tear. 
 At the moment the whole thing seemed a part 
 of a play, such as I had witnessed the night 
 before in one of the metropolitan theatres. 
 
 I was not quite prepared for what followed. 
 One never is, I think, when the happening falls 
 the least bit out of the ordinary. 
 
 The footman gave me a push and a lift, just 
 as if he were a kidnapper and I the child of a 
 millionaire pork packer worth a fabulous ran 
 som. This was so unexpected that I fairly fell 
 into the carriage, and into the lap of the nymph 
 with the eyes of blue. Then my heart leaped; 
 for she put her arms round my neck and began 
 to kiss me with a rapture surpassing that of the 
 most emotional of actresses. 
 
 "I think I shall enjoy this immensely, if you 
 will but give me breathing space," I said, be 
 wildered, yet determined to carry it off as lightly 
 as I could.
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "How could you? How could you?" she 
 demanded. 
 
 "My recollection assures me that I was as 
 sisted," was my answer, as I placed myself in 
 an easier and more satisfying posture. "But, 
 then, such assistance is a delight. Where is the 
 Castle?" 
 
 "The Castle?" 
 
 "To which I am now to be taken. I think 
 you must be the Princess I saw in the play last 
 night, and I the Wounded Knight. Of course 
 you will treat me well when you get me there! 
 But I can stand even a donjon-keep, I assure 
 you, if you will but stay close by me." 
 
 I freed myself and looked at Her. But for 
 the brilliant flush of her cheeks, her face was 
 white, too white, due I thought to the sombre 
 hue of her clothing. 
 
 "What, crying?" I said. "Forgive my lev 
 ity. You can't expect me to take this thing 
 seriously, though. And for Heaven's sake, tell 
 me just what is the meaning of our play-acting ? 
 I am willing to be Knight (Wounded, or other 
 wise) to two such charming Princesses. And 
 I admit I am hard hit, if not sorely wounded. 
 But even a Wounded Knight may be allowed 
 curiosity." 
 
 "Julian, this is not play-acting!"
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "Certainly not." 
 
 "Then what is it?" 
 
 "We are taking you home." 
 
 I sat up straighter and looked at her even 
 more intently. My face must have revealed 
 the puzzled state of my mind. 
 
 "And now that I have found you, you shall 
 never, never go away again]" she declared. 
 
 I gasped my amazement. 
 
 "Home!" cried the Adorable One to the 
 driver, in a voice of liquid sweetness. (It was 
 really liquid she was crying!) 
 
 The horses gave a jump, the carnage swung 
 round, and we were rolling swiftly toward the 
 city. 
 
 My emotions ran the gamut. The jerk of 
 the carriage had thrown me heavily against the 
 cushions, and the woman who had captured me 
 (I felt at the moment that I had been captured) 
 was declaring what wild nonsense I knew not. 
 
 I was aware that the other nymph was utter 
 ing sundry ejaculations that seemed almost 
 hysterical, but she at least did not throw her 
 arms round my neck and kiss me! 
 
 "I don't know that I ought to object to this, 
 since it is so pleasant," I said, trying hard to be 
 humorous. "Still, if I may be permitted a
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 question, I should be pleased, like the con 
 gressman of refreshing memory, to know just 
 'where we are at* ?" 
 
 "Julian," She answered, "we can't discuss 
 the matter now. I think I understand." (I 
 was sure I did not!) "You are my husband, 
 and you are going home with me." 
 
 Good Heavens! Her husband! I gave a 
 jump of astonishment. 
 
 "Of course I am nothing of the kind," I re 
 plied. "You must have a reason, though, for 
 saying it. And also, of course, it is a weighty 
 one." 
 
 But my levity had grown a little heavy. 
 
 "I have the best of reasons. It is true. And 
 you are going home with me." 
 
 "And then what?" I asked. 
 
 "You are to remain with me forever and 
 ever." 
 
 "But if," I cried "if you discover that I 
 am not your husband that this is a mistake ? 
 I haven't the pleasure at this moment of being 
 the husband of any woman. It is my loss, I 
 know, and " 
 
 "We will not discuss the matter, Julian!" 
 
 Though sweet and kindly, the tone was final. 
 
 "Julian what?" I asked irrelevantly, when 
 shunted thus into a side-track.
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 "Randolph, of course. Have you forgotten 
 your own name?" 
 
 "If that is my name, I certainly have," I 
 answered. "The last time I took stock of my 
 personal belongings my name was Louis Ar- 
 mitage." 
 
 "I think I understand," she said, calmly. 
 
 I stared at her, and at the girl of tan who was 
 abetting her. Again for the moment I was sure 
 I had been chosen as the hero of some little 
 comedy whose denouement I could not guess. 
 
 "Very well," I said, once more trying to be 
 humorous. "Does Sherry's lie at the end of 
 the road, or does " 
 
 "I think I said that we are going home, 
 Julian." 
 
 We were soon rolling through the vista of 
 brownstone mansions on Upper Fifth Avenue. 
 I glanced at the driver and footman, sedate and 
 wooden in their places; and at the young women, 
 and was conscious of a disquieting air of reality. 
 Romance was more at home on the parkway 
 boulevard than where the city's architectural 
 precision seemed devised with the special view 
 of banishing it. 
 
 "I am enjoying the present, anyway," I as 
 serted, a bit nervously I fear. "I only wish I 
 were Julian Randolph. I should like to con-
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 gratulate him for a lucky dog. And I shall 
 always count it a piece of good fortune that I 
 look so like him as to have deceived his charm 
 ing wife and her equally charming friend." 
 
 The Charming Friend arched her eyebrows 
 at me. And she had lovely brown eyes under 
 those arched eyebrows I assure you. Still, she 
 was far from being as beautiful, in my opinion 
 at least, as Mrs. Julian Randolph. 
 
 I actually began to be jealous of Randolph. 
 What did the despicable fellow mean ? Had 
 he abandoned this woman, and conducted him 
 self in such an absurd manner that she felt she 
 must abduct him as soon as she saw him if she 
 meant to retain him at all ? And then my mind, 
 from such questions, leaped back to the con 
 clusion that this was but play-acting. Though 
 the purpose I could not fathom. 
 
 I began to ask more questions, to which there 
 were more puzzling answers and protestations 
 mingled with tears, and even more laughter from 
 the nut-brown maid. Her name, I learned, was 
 Margaret; or at least she was called that by Mrs. 
 Randolph, and she was Mrs. Randolph's sister. 
 
 When the carriage stopped before one of the 
 brownstone houses and the footman swung 
 down to open the carriage door, I was as bewil 
 dered as in the beginning. 
 
 8
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 I could have laughed at the manner in which 
 these women watched me as I stepped to the 
 pavement, and at the cautious way in which 
 the footman dropped in behind, like a rear 
 guard, as I moved, under their escort, toward 
 the wide stone steps. 
 
 Now was my time to retreat; to fly, even. I 
 confess to a moment of indecision. I know 
 I was hoping that whatever did come of it, a 
 further and better acquaintance with Kitty 
 Randolph (was that her real name ?) would 
 result. And then ? Well, I knew I should 
 make the most of the possibilities of that 
 acquaintance. 
 
 In the frame of mind of expecting anything, 
 even the most unlikely, I was conducted, almost 
 pulled, into the house. With the footman 
 swinging in behind, as if to prevent my escape, 
 that entrance hinted of feudal days and robber 
 castles. I don't recall that history records any 
 instance of a robber Princess sallying forth and 
 capturing a husband. But it may have hap 
 pened. Even history isn't argus-eyed. The re 
 verse of that, however, has given history and 
 fiction some of their most enchanting pages. 
 
 Disappointment awaited me within, for the 
 house was modern. There were no cells, or 
 prison doors. No grim jailer stood clanking
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 iron keys and rusty manacles. The carved and 
 polished stair railing against which my shoulder 
 was brushing was a work of art. Disgusted 
 Romance could stand no more, but spread 
 bright-hued wings and disappeared, to fly back 
 to the park, and perhaps doze and dream again 
 by the obelisk. I stood bewildered. 
 
 "And now," She said, still clinging to me, 
 "I wish you would, or could, tell me why 
 why why you vanished in that mysterious 
 manner and left us to believe you were dead ?" 
 
 She stood before me, young and charming. 
 Her blue eyes had misty, mysterious depths. 
 Excitement had colored her cheeks until they 
 glowed burned. Yet I saw that her com 
 plexion could boast the delicate tints of the 
 pink sea-shell. She had intelligence, and that 
 sweet femininity for which there are no words, 
 or for which I at least have none adequate. 
 
 Her sister plucked from a silver tray a square 
 envelope and tore it open with a snap. 
 
 "Jack will be here this evening," she said, 
 as she glanced at the contents. 
 
 She was matter-of-fact, for she began to 
 draw the pin out of her hat. Yes, Romance 
 had flown back to the parkway and the obelisk. 
 I looked at her. I had seen her picture the 
 Athletic American Girl. Her cheeks were 
 
 10
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 tanned; as she rolled back a glove I saw that 
 her firm, hard wrists and hands were tanned; 
 even her brown hair had a tint of sunshine. 
 
 I turned with as much nonchalance as I could 
 to Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 "Now that you have caught me," I said 
 brazenly, "let us end play-acting for a little 
 while until you tell me what you intend to do 
 with me." 
 
 Her fingers tightened on my arm. 
 
 "Keep you!" she cried with dramatic in 
 tensity. 
 
 "That will be delightful!" I declared with 
 mock emphasis. 
 
 If I had been really her husband, as she as 
 serted with such vehemence, it would have been 
 Heaven to me, I began to realize, to be with 
 her always. And this would have been true 
 if, not being her husband, there were hopes that 
 some day I might become her husband. 
 
 "I suppose you can't explain why you went 
 away?" she urged, and I observed that the 
 nut-brown maid listened for my answer. 
 
 "Not in the least," I said, resuming my tone 
 of banter. "It is inexplicable. I shall never 
 do so again." 
 
 "But you know where you have been ?" 
 
 "Luckily, in Central Park this afternoon. I 
 
 ii
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 must have been waiting for you, expecting you, 
 though not aware of it." 
 
 "Don't jest, Julian!" she cried. 
 
 "I am not jesting," I declared, "though the 
 situation seems worthy of it." 
 
 I was drawn into a small sitting room, richly 
 furnished. 
 
 "Julian," she said, "you puzzle me. You 
 seem to be jesting, and yet I know you can't 
 be; for no man could jest under such circum 
 stances. Unless " 
 
 "Unless he was out of his mind ?" 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 "Or chanced not to be the man he was 
 supposed to be." 
 
 The nut-brown maid had vanished, but was 
 returning, and I heard what seemed a stir of 
 excitement among the servants. I began to 
 feel that this was not a madcap's prank, but a 
 case of mistaken identity. Julian Randolph was 
 dead; I was supposed to be Julian Randolph; 
 and this woman believed herself to be my wife. 
 And I was reaching the quick realization that 
 she was the One Woman intended for me of the 
 gods. 
 
 Maid or widow, I determined quickly that I 
 would win her. Yet as I registered the vow 
 I realized how handicapped I was by my singu- 
 
 12
 
 A FILLIP TO CURIOSITY 
 
 lar position. Then I began to feel that as an 
 honest man my first duty was to undeceive her. 
 I arose from my chair, hesitating. 
 
 The movement alarmed her. She had been 
 reading my face, and thought I meant to depart. 
 
 " Julian," she exclaimed, " if you try to go I 
 shall have the servants detain you!" 
 
 I laughed uneasily. 
 
 "You still insist that I am your husband?" 
 I asked, looking into her serious eyes. 
 
 "Yes, of course." 
 
 "But if I insist with equal emphasis that I 
 am not your husband, what then ?" 
 
 Her answer came without hesitation : 
 
 "I shall know that I am right and that you 
 are wrong." 
 
 "But you will admit that a man is likely to 
 know who he is ?" 
 
 "And you must admit that a woman is sure 
 to know her own husband, even though for 
 some reason he denies his identity!" 
 
 The silver bell of a clock tinkled somewhere. 
 
 "Be good now!" she said. "You will have 
 barely time to dress for our early dinner. I 
 will show you to your rooms, and your old valet 
 will come to you at once. We're going to be 
 just as we were in the old days, you know."
 
 II 
 
 I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 
 
 YOU will agree with me that to be in the 
 home of a man who is dead, or sup 
 posed to be dead, and to have his wife 
 (or his widow) believe that you are her hus 
 band, returned to her, is no ordinary experi 
 ence. If the woman is of compelling loveliness 
 the experience is no more strange perhaps; yet 
 that circumstance certainly adds to its strength 
 if, as in my case, you find yourself at once 
 madly, overwhelmingly in love with her. 
 
 What was I to do ? I was resolved to win 
 her. I had tried, facetiously and feebly enough, 
 to enlighten her. She had not believed. And 
 there was something in her manner which as 
 sured me she would never believe. I could fly 
 from the house, out into the street, and there 
 lose myself; or flee from the city; but even then 
 she would not believe. The light which had 
 come into those sapphire eyes would be 
 quenched by my act, and the heart that had 
 throbbed so tumultuously against my own 
 would be torn by unspeakable anguish. She
 
 I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 
 
 would search for me, would grieve for me; and 
 she would not believe. And I should lose 
 her forever! 
 
 Am I a villain ? Hear me to the end, and 
 see. 
 
 I had been shown to the rooms which were 
 said to be mine. They contained everything to 
 make for comfort. Pipes and tobacco jars, 
 and fragrant Havanas, so old and dry that they 
 were flaky and powdery to the touch, invited 
 me. As I prowled curiously about, like a cat 
 in a strange garret, I even found a little side 
 board, with glasses, a case of wine and some 
 bottles of champagne and whiskey. A glance 
 into another room revealed fencing foils, pis 
 tols, a hammerless shotgun, and a desk of 
 books. A cleanly disorder was everywhere, as 
 if the owner had departed intending to return 
 soon, and never having done so they had been 
 kept as left with scrupulous care. I confess it 
 gave me a queer feeling. 
 
 I looked at myself in a long pier glass, and 
 saw there a young man, beardless, with brown, 
 well-meaning eyes, a pleasant though not a par 
 ticularly handsome face, a firm mouth, a chin 
 which for the first time I fancied indicated a 
 trace of weakness, abundant dark hair, and 
 a well-knit figure.
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I was contemplating this picture when I felt 
 a presence. 
 
 As I turned, a soft-footed man stood before 
 me; a young man, of about my own age, with 
 an English cast of countenance. He was speak 
 ing to me: 
 
 "Will you have a shave, sir, before dinner?" 
 
 I looked in the mirror again, to assure myself 
 that this was not a dream, and rubbed my hand 
 across my chin. 
 
 "Will we have time?" I asked, dubiously. 
 
 "I think so, sir." 
 
 He began to bring clothing from a side room. 
 
 "Just as you left them, sir!" he said, with 
 deep meaning. 
 
 There was a slight flush on his white, clean 
 face. Yet his hands, white, with long, clean 
 fingers and polished nails, did not tremble. 
 
 I hesitated; then moved to the chair he indi 
 cated. 
 
 "Tell me," I said, as I took my seat and he 
 began to tuck the immaculate shaving towel 
 under my chin, " did you were you the valet 
 of that is, my valet, before 
 
 "Yes, sir," he said, with rare understanding, 
 lifting my chin that he might set the towel better 
 in place. "After you disappeared I wished to re 
 main with the family, and became under butler." 
 
 16
 
 I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 
 
 The swift assurance of his answer was enough 
 to make my brain whirl. 
 
 "When did I disappear?" 
 
 "A year ago last autumn, sir, near the close 
 of the season. I remember it well, sir; and it 
 seems a miracle to have you here, and me be 
 getting ready to shave you. Indeed it does, 
 sir." 
 
 I wanted to look him in the face again, to see 
 if he were joking; but he was holding my head 
 to one side, as he went on with his prepara 
 tions. 
 
 "I was supposed to be dead ?" I stammered. 
 
 "Yes, sir; just so, sir. They buried you." 
 
 "Buried me?" 
 
 "It was not you, sir, of course, as we know 
 now; but they buried some one they thought 
 was you. I myself thought it was you. And, 
 sir, you could have knocked me down with a 
 feather when I heard that you had returned and 
 was not dead at all, and Does my hand 
 shake, sir?" 
 
 This was overwhelming, and I lay still a 
 moment. 
 
 "Have I changed any? In appearance, I 
 mean." 
 
 "Very little, sir. You are thinner; but that 
 is to be expected, sir." 
 
 17
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 He stood off and looked at me; and, turning 
 my head, I now looked him full in the face. 
 He was apparently in sober earnest, his manner 
 softened by the tremendous discovery that his 
 old master, whom he had seen dead and buried, 
 was still in the flesh, and was there, in the old 
 room, talking with him and getting ready for 
 dinner, as in the old days. 
 
 " Just how have I changed ?" 
 
 "That is all," he said "about all, sir; you 
 are thinner, your hair seems a bit stiffer and 
 harsher it has not had proper attention, I 
 fear; your face is not quite so dark, because it is 
 not so tanned. You were a very tanned man, 
 sir; from the wind, on the yachting trips, you 
 know, and from exposure to the weather while 
 golfing and autoing. But, really, sir, the 
 change is inconsiderable. I should have known 
 you in an instant anywhere; even in ' he 
 hesitated for a word to express remoteness, 
 then fell back on the old, familiar " in China, 
 sir." 
 
 "What am I to call you?" I asked, when I 
 had digested this; and I wondered what he 
 would think of the question as I put it. 
 
 " Jerome, sir Jerome Barnard. Your mem 
 ory is not very good, sir." 
 
 His tone acknowledged that, while he had 
 
 18
 
 I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 
 
 expected nothing else, it hurt him to have re 
 ceived no more. 
 
 "It was bad before before I went away ?" 
 
 "No, sir; I think not, sir." 
 
 He had lathered my face, and was strop 
 ping the razor, whacking it sharply against the 
 leather. 
 
 "Tell me about it," I said, as he came back 
 to me and began to draw the keen blade over 
 my cheek. 
 
 "Yes, sir. We were in Maine, you know, at 
 Camden-by-the-Sea. We had gone there in the 
 Idler." 
 
 "That's the name of the yacht ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; glad to see that you remember her, 
 sir. We had gone by the way of Newport, 
 Boston, and York Harbor, stopping at each 
 place for a short time. The Idler is out of com 
 mission now; Mrs. Randolph would have noth 
 ing more to do with her." 
 
 "Go on," I urged. The whole affair was 
 really getting on my nerves. 
 
 "Yes, sir." He turned my head, and applied 
 the razor to the other cheek. "We had been 
 there two or three weeks. Camden is a beauti 
 ful place, you know, with the mountains just by 
 it and the bay in front, and The Poplars is a 
 handsome estate. Yet I remember that you 
 
 19
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 became restless, sir, and talked about going to 
 Bar Harbor. You went down to the Idler, 
 to see the captain about it; and that was the 
 last that we saw of you, sir. You took the 
 boat, to pull off to the yacht; or, we supposed 
 that you did. It was the yacht's boat, and had 
 been left for you, so that you could go aboard 
 when you liked. It was found next day, sir, 
 on the shore, overturned." 
 
 "And" 
 
 "Yes, sir; the body that we supposed was 
 yours was found on the Lincolnville beach, two 
 months later. Of course the time that had 
 elapsed, sir, made complete identification im 
 possible; but no one doubted that the body was 
 yours; I did not, sir." 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph doubted?" 
 
 "Perhaps she did, sir; I have heard that she 
 did. I have heard that she never would believe 
 but that you had wandered away in a fit of 
 mental aberration. But no one else thought 
 so, sir; none of the servants thought so." 
 
 For a while I lay thinking quietly. 
 
 "Did Mrs. Randolph make further search 
 afterward ?" 
 
 "I have heard that she did, sir; that was the 
 talk among the servants. I never heard her 
 speak of it." 
 
 20
 
 I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF 
 
 "And it was generally accepted that the body 
 found was Julian Randolph's ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "The thing must have made quite a stir at 
 the time?" 
 
 "It did, sir." 
 
 The very queerness of the situation gave me 
 a strange feeling. If I had not recalled my 
 own past so well, had not known just what I 
 was doing yesterday, and the day before, and 
 the day before that, with recollections running 
 back over the months and years, I might have 
 begun to doubt my own identity. I wanted to 
 shake myself at intervals, to make sure that I 
 was not dreaming. 
 
 I hesitated again, as he brought out clothing; 
 then decided with reckless haste to go ahead 
 
 O 
 
 and see what would come of this queer adven 
 ture. He assisted me into the clothing he 
 provided, and I found that I was fitted to 
 perfection. 
 
 As I went down to dinner I saw him smiling 
 in what I thought an odd way, and it flashed 
 on me that perhaps he was deep in some plot 
 against me. And this impression increased as 
 I descended the stairs. 
 
 21
 
 Ill 
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH was waiting for me 
 at the entrance to the spacious dining 
 room. Though there was a soft-bulbed 
 electric light in the hall, a firefly caught in the 
 calyx of a lily, the broad branches of the palm 
 by which she stood shadowed her face and gave 
 an unfathomable depth to her eyes. 
 
 She was dressed somewhat soberly, as she 
 had been that afternoon, as a woman naturally 
 would be whose husband was not two years 
 dead. Yet as I joined her I observed that her 
 face was radiant and that her eyes were bright 
 as stars. 
 
 "Julian!" she cried. 
 
 The tone was low, with a rapturous catching 
 of the breath. With that clouding suspicion in 
 my mind it further bewildered me. My face 
 flushed, embarrassment seized me, and I be 
 came a prisoner in the Castle of Doubt. 
 
 But by an effort I got control of myself, and 
 resumed the light air which so far had served 
 me well when talking with her. And again the 
 
 22
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 marvellous beauty and charm of the woman 
 captured my will and forced me to go for 
 ward. 
 
 "I am enjoying this so thoroughly," I de 
 clared, "that I am glad I did not go away." 
 
 She gave me a strange, quick, startled look. 
 The color fled from her cheeks, to return in 
 stantly with added brilliance. 
 
 "Shall we go in ?" she asked gently. 
 
 "Yes," I said. "This is even better than 
 Sherry's, for the crowd is absent." 
 
 I swept the interior of the dining room at a 
 glance as she took my arm. My trepidation 
 increased on discovering that two persons were 
 present in addition to the servants. One of 
 these was Margaret Hansborough, Mrs. Ran 
 dolph's nut-brown sister. The other was a 
 young man whom I had not yet seen. They 
 had been sitting by a window, and rose hur 
 riedly together as we entered. 
 
 Resolving to see this thing through, I was 
 being plunged into deeper and yet deeper depths. 
 Apparently, the way out if there was a way 
 out was to go straight ahead. And straight 
 ahead I went, feeling the soft hand on my arm 
 clutching with singular and tremulous earnest 
 ness. If these women were playing a part 
 
 My eyes met those of Miss Hansborough with 
 
 23
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 a sharp and searching glance. She was smiling, 
 even radiant, yet I did not think she was smil 
 ing at me. On her tanned cheeks was a flush, 
 of joy apparently in her sister's restored happi 
 ness. Her brown eyes held shifting and un 
 certain lights. Just now they were sparkling. 
 Her smile displayed her white, even teeth. 
 Health and vitality radiated from her. Here 
 was a girl, I saw, to whom the mere joy of 
 living was a supreme pleasure. 
 
 I expected that the smooth-faced, athletic 
 young man with her would be introduced to 
 me; but he bounded forward, with almost a 
 college yell, and catching my hand squeezed it 
 until it ached. You see, he knew me, even 
 though I did not know him; he was Jack 
 Benson, and Margaret Hansborough's fiance. 
 I (that is, not I, but Julian Randolph) had 
 known him well we had been close friends. 
 Benson was a student at Harvard, I learned 
 later, and Randolph a Harvard graduate; and 
 that was another tie, in addition to the very 
 obvious one that Randolph had married one 
 Hansborough sister and Benson expected to 
 marry the other. 
 
 I said nothing, in answer to his exclamations 
 of delight, even though he capered so boyishly. 
 Yet I could not remain silent, and it seemed 
 
 24
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 impossible to retreat. I was like a driven pig 
 in an alley. If I balked the devil would be to 
 pay. There was nothing to do but to dash 
 wildly ahead and see what came of it. 
 
 Whatever came of it, I should for a while be 
 near the woman who had filched my heart. 
 There are times when a man will sell his chances 
 of Heaven for the glance of a woman's eyes, 
 and I think that time came for me then. That 
 story of the hairy brother, the mess of pottage 
 and the birthright applies to all of us. 
 
 So I took the desperate leap; and the next 
 moment I was answering Jack Benson's excla 
 mations and questions (strangely there were 
 very few questions!) to the best of my ability, 
 and it was a very limited ability just then. 
 Though his voice rang clear, there was a serious 
 look in his eyes, as if he knew he faced a seri 
 ous situation but was resolved to go through it 
 with credit. 
 
 I have said his questions were few; they were 
 also innocuous. 
 
 "I hope you are well?" he began. 
 
 "Never better," I answered, trying to respond 
 easily to this easy one. 
 
 I wondered if my voice sounded like Julian 
 Randolph's. I had forgotten to ask that of the 
 valet. 
 
 25
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I slipped into the chair which the servant 
 pushed under me at the table. Observing that 
 I had the seat of McGregor, it broke on me 
 with overwhelming force that I was recognized 
 as the head of the house. 
 
 "Well, I'm glad to see you! " Benson declared 
 again. 
 
 He beamed upon me, and the two women did 
 the same. 
 
 Then he looked at the girl opposite him, as 
 if thinking that never could he have remained 
 away from Miss Hansborough after the manner 
 of Julian Randolph. But alas, my thought 
 was, how could poor Randolph help it, when 
 he was dead ? 
 
 "I stand condemned for heartlessness," I 
 answered, speaking to the unvoiced question. 
 
 I began to feel easier, for I perceived by a 
 sort of intuition that this master of the house 
 in whose seat I sat had been a wealthy eccentric 
 whose doings were unaccountable to everybody 
 and therefore I was not to be pressed hard to 
 explain my supposed singular conduct. But in 
 a moment Jack Benson had started again, and 
 he now had me guessing. 
 
 "That last plunge of yours was into Africa; 
 perhaps you returned to your old stamping 
 ground there and brought down some new kind 
 
 26
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 of wild beast, maybe an okapi, with those soft- 
 nosed bullets you told me about ? You re 
 member them ?" 
 
 "Oh, I remember them!" I cried desperately. 
 "Yes, I found new game. You can't know how 
 interesting it was." 
 
 I felt that I was becoming as brazen as the 
 dining room clock, which seemed trying hard 
 to stare me out of countenance. Likely it was 
 ashamed of me, for as I finished that "whop 
 per" its bell tinkled, as much as to say, "Ring 
 off!" 
 
 But I was listening for the voice of Mrs. 
 Randolph; and I heard it now, liquid as water, 
 yet vibrant, and sweet as the note of a bird : 
 
 " It was just a little strange. We'll all 
 understand it better by and by." 
 
 Mrs. Randolph was watching me attentively, 
 while trying to appear not to be doing so, and 
 the quick color was coming and going in her 
 cheeks, which at one moment were pale and 
 the next a rich carmine. Miss Hansborough 
 alone seemed cool, and a look into her smiling 
 face had for me the effect of a breath from 
 glacial heights. 
 
 "When I got back from Africa," I said, "I 
 felt so lost without the familiar African at 
 mosphere that I began to haunt the obelisk 
 
 27
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 over in Central Park. It was near there that 
 they found me, you know." 
 
 I addressed the remark to Benson. 
 
 "Of course you noticed the little ibises that 
 stroll and teeter all over the thing," he said, 
 irreverently, drawing an outline of one in mid 
 air with his fork. "Somehow, they make me 
 think of the swan boats in the Public Gardens, 
 in Boston." 
 
 Miss Hansborough laughed, and I felt better. 
 
 "How absurd!" she cried. 
 
 "I think I saw the originals of those birds on 
 the banks of the Serpent Nile," I declared. 
 "They looked old enough for it, any way. But 
 the Nile wasn't green, as I always thought; there 
 was too much mud in it." 
 
 "From the new cuttings and dams at As 
 souan," said Jack, understandingly. 
 
 Pretty soon, I felt, I should be believing my 
 self the man these generous people seemed to 
 think me, so strong is the self-deceit of acting. 
 Wasn't it the elder Booth who once became so 
 imbued with the feeling of the character he was 
 portraying that he nearly ran his antagonist 
 through, forgetting for the moment that he was 
 engaged in only a stage duel ? I was but an 
 amateur, yet was becoming as obsessed as 
 Booth had ever been. 
 
 28
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "But the Nile boats are as picturesque as 
 ever," I went on, "and the boatmen and fella 
 heen quite as dirty and thieving." 
 
 The words came trippingly, and in imagina 
 tion I saw the sunlight on the date palms and 
 the plodding of the desert camels, as well as 
 fellaheen, beggars and Nile boats. 
 
 "Were you over there long?" Benson asked. 
 
 "Ages," I answered, smiling at him. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph studied my face with a quick 
 and comprehensive glance. 
 
 "You haven't been back a great while ?" she 
 said. 
 
 "Not half long enough to get re-acquainted 
 with myself. I'm so Egyptianized that even my 
 words stumble. I know the height of the Pyra 
 mid of Gizeh a good deal better than that of the 
 Goddess of Liberty down here in the harbor." 
 
 "You haven't been long in New York ?" she 
 went on, with a certain sweet and tremulous 
 persistence. 
 
 I ask the discriminating reader if this was not 
 sufficiently puzzling to muddle a man of the 
 levelest head ? 
 
 "Not very long," I answered, evasively. 
 
 "How long?" 
 
 Driven thus into a corner, I tried to get out 
 of it humorously, and floundered. 
 
 29
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "About five feet ten," I said, mentioning my 
 height, for I could think of no suitable reply. 
 
 Though the answer was so witless, Miss 
 Hansborough laughed again in her jolly, gen 
 erous way, and I smiled her my gratitude. 
 
 "Thanks!" I cried to her. "We, at least, 
 shall get on famously." 
 
 "Think so?" she said, and arched her eye 
 brows at me again in the way that I remem 
 bered and thought piquant and vivacious. 
 
 "I'm sure of it," I declared. 
 
 "That's good; for you know I always liked 
 you, Julian." 
 
 "And I simply adored you!" I asserted; 
 whereupon she flushed and became even prettier 
 than before. 
 
 " My adoration of pretty women explains why 
 I am here," I added. 
 
 My comprehensive glance covered both her 
 and her sister. 
 
 "Mr. Benson," I said, turning to him in 
 desperation, "when I was captured and brought 
 here, I thought at first that the thing was a lark 
 and that we were probably bound for a dinner 
 at Sherry's, and perhaps the theatre later. But 
 this is better than both. You agree with me ?" 
 
 "I'm ready to agree with you in anything," 
 he said, almost nervously. 
 
 3
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Then you'll agree with me, that when a man 
 is captured in a public place by two pretty 
 women, one of whom declares that she is his 
 wife, and the other says she is his sister-in-law, 
 and the intelligent young fellow at dinner begins 
 to make queer remarks, thus abetting them, the 
 situation is the oddest ever ?" 
 
 I looked at him so level-eyed that his already 
 flushed face colored still more. 
 
 "I should declare it unbelievable a page 
 out of a romantic novel," he answered, sitting 
 back in his chair. 
 
 "And if the young man thus captured was so 
 puzzled by what he saw and heard that he 
 wasn't sure if the thing were real or a bit of 
 play-acting, what then?" 
 
 " I should call it two pages out of two novels." 
 
 He met my glance now and drew a question 
 mark on the cloth with his fork. I thought the 
 question mark was for the eyes of Miss Hans- 
 borough. 
 
 Apparently we had reached the end of the 
 conversational tether, and so we were straying 
 into inane paths and foolish circles that began 
 nowhere and ended at the same place. 
 
 At length, in spite of her flow of volatile 
 spirits, Miss Hansborough seemed to feel a 
 growing tension. She broke a red rosebud and
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 its spray of green from the cluster before her, 
 with a nervous shake of her tanned fingers. 
 
 "Jack," she said brightly, as if continuing a 
 conversation that had been dropped, while she 
 fastened the rosebud in her dark hair, "when 
 that Harvard-Yale game is played I shall wear 
 a bunch of these as big as a plate for Harvard, 
 you know. They're not exactly crimson, but " 
 
 "That will be bully!" Jack commended, with 
 over-earnestness. "We'll all wear soup-plate 
 bouquets of red roses." 
 
 She broke off a full-blown rose and waved it 
 over her head. 
 
 "And we'll 'Rah, rah, rah' for 'Fair Har 
 vard' until we're hoarse!" 
 
 "And if Harvard wins, we'll burn red fire in 
 the yard and paint the statue of old John Har 
 vard a brilliant crimson!" Jack added. 
 
 "// we win ? Jack, you're no Harvard man, 
 if you doubt!" 
 
 "Then I don't doubt!" he cried. "We'll 
 win; of course we'll win." 
 
 All seemed relieved by this change in the 
 current of talk. Having caught his cue, and 
 feeling more at his ease, Jack, with Margaret, 
 rattled on about the coming Harvard-Yale game, 
 in which he was to have a part and in which all 
 of us were assumed to be intensely interested. 
 
 32
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Having come into the dining room with the 
 talk of the valet in my ears and a sudden sus 
 picion of him in my heart, this suspicion had 
 for a time extended to Jack Benson. But he, 
 showing now the true enthusiasm of a youthful 
 undergraduate, did not fit my preconception 
 of a man acting a part. And all of Benson's 
 accessories seemed too realistic, from the loving 
 glow and anxious attitude of Mrs. Randolph 
 and the bright girlishness of Miss Hansborough 
 to the quiet deference of the soft-footed ser 
 vants. I felt that it was I who was playing a 
 part, not these people, and my embarrassment, 
 my sense of guilt and confusion, grew at the 
 thought. 
 
 Yet now, as before, I seemed driven on, in a 
 path I had not chosen and whose end I could 
 not foresee. So while I studied the situation I 
 continued to force myself to talk, forced myself 
 to eat, forced myself to an interest in college 
 games and college gossip, and even into an 
 unnatural and unfelt gayety. I was aware that 
 Mrs. Randolph watched me closely, not as if 
 she doubted me, but as with a rapture tempered 
 by fears. 
 
 The courses were served and the dinner came 
 to an end. It was not long, I suppose, and the 
 conversation was as bright, and after the begin- 
 
 33
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 ning, personally as colorless as the wit and high 
 spirits of Miss Hansborough and Jack Benson 
 could make it; yet it was to me interminable, 
 and in some respects painful; and I was glad to 
 rise from the table. 
 
 Benson was speaking to Miss Hansborough 
 when Mrs. Randolph linked her arm lovingly 
 in mine. 
 
 "We're going right back to the old ways, 
 Julian," she whispered, giving my arm a pas 
 sionate pressure. "Shall we have some music 
 now, or would you prefer to smoke with Jack in 
 the library?" 
 
 "The music," I answered, helplessly, after a 
 moment of hesitation. 
 
 "Margaret plays and sings even better than 
 before, I think," she said. 
 
 She turned to Miss Hansborough. 
 
 "Margaret, Julian thinks he would like to 
 hear you sing." 
 
 My head felt giddy as we went into the music 
 room, where Miss Hansborough seated herself 
 at the piano, with Jack Benson leaning over her 
 and assisting her in running through some 
 sheets of music. 
 
 "Rag time is my favorite," Benson an 
 nounced, youthfully, as he produced something 
 from the pile. 
 
 34
 
 IN THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I sat with Mrs. Randolph near one of the 
 deep, mullioned windows. The curtains of 
 filmy lace served somewhat as a screen, for 
 which I was not sorry. I began to feel the 
 need of a much more impenetrable screen to 
 hide my growing sense of confusion and guilt. 
 Behind that screen Mrs. Randolph drew one of 
 my hands into her own warm, soft palms, and 
 it seemed to me that a threat of tears blurred 
 her eyes. Yet for all that they held a look of 
 contentment. 
 
 Adaptability to all sorts of singular situations 
 and circumstances I had thought one of my 
 strong points, yet here adaptability and the self- 
 command necessary to play my part were both 
 breaking down. 
 
 Miss Hansborough ignored Benson's invita 
 tion to "rag time," struck a deep chord from 
 the piano, and played a waltz. 
 
 When, in response to Mrs. Randolph's re 
 quest, she began to sing, I discovered that she 
 had a contralto voice of much sweetness and 
 strength. Benson hovered over her, turning the 
 sheets of the music. Now and then they had 
 their heads together, and I fancied that they 
 were speaking of me. When a little later, after 
 a whispered conversation with Benson, Miss 
 Hansborough began to sing one of the old songs, 
 
 35
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Mrs. Randolph's hands tightened on mine with 
 a nervous clutch: 
 
 "Could ye come back to me, Douglas! Douglas! 
 
 In the old likeness that I knew; 
 I'd be so loving, so faithful, Douglas 
 Douglas, Douglas, tender and true!" 
 
 I felt Mrs. Randolph shiver strangely, and 
 now there were real tears in her eyes. I was 
 almost angry with Miss Hansborough and Jack 
 Benson. For the moment I doubted no longer. 
 Strange though it seemed, Mrs. Randolph be 
 lieved that I was her husband, Julian Randolph, 
 returned to her; Death had relented and given 
 back her dead ! A deep pity struggled with my 
 self-contempt. And she was so young and so 
 beautiful; I longed to take her in my arms, fold 
 her tightly to my breast, and tell her that though 
 I was not her husband I already loved her more 
 than her husband ever could have loved her, 
 and that I had even registered a vow to make 
 her my wife. Such was the effect on me of her 
 beauty and her distress.
 
 IV 
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 MISS HANSBOROUGH was again turn 
 ing the pages of her music. But Mrs. 
 Randolph was considerate. No doubt 
 she wished to spare herself as well as me. 
 
 "Perhaps you would enjoy a cigar in the 
 library," she suggested, with a sweet kindness 
 that held yet a quiver of regret regret that 
 I should be separated from her for even a 
 little while. 
 
 I managed to stammer that it would be a 
 pleasure. Miss Hansborough looked at us, with 
 a glance at Benson. 
 
 "Julian thinks he would enjoy a cigar in the 
 library," said Mrs. Randolph, rising, her hand 
 trembling as it rested for an instant on my 
 shoulder, trembling as it seemed to me with 
 the mere pleasure of having here at home 
 again the husband she had mourned as dead. 
 
 Benson produced a package of little Havanas 
 from somewhere as we passed into the library, 
 and with them some matches, which he extended 
 to me. 
 
 37
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Thanks!" I said, nervously. 
 
 I walked over to a window, and looked down 
 into the lighted avenue, questioning what I 
 should do. The " clock-clock " of beating hoofs 
 of carriage horses rose to the window. From 
 farther off came the subdued roar of the Ele 
 vated, the grumble of cable cars, and the jar of 
 the city's traffic. Long lines of flashing lights 
 made jewelled ropes in the darkness. 
 
 It was hard to realize that a few hours before 
 I had not known there was such a woman in 
 the world as Mrs. Julian Randolph, nor such 
 a house as this brownstone mansion on Fifth 
 Avenue. The man who came now to my side, 
 and looked with me out on those shining lights, 
 had been to me then as if he had not existed. 
 What a world may open before us at any mo 
 ment! A turn of the road, a step, and it is 
 there, with all its interesting and mysterious 
 novelty. 
 
 "It's been a fine day," said Benson, obvi 
 ously groping for something to say. 
 
 "And Mrs. Randolph is a fine woman!" was 
 my irrelevant answer. 
 
 That must have struck him strangely, for he 
 gave me a quick, sharp look. 
 
 "Very!" he said. 
 
 " Have you er known her been ac- 
 
 38
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 quainted with her very long?" I blundered, 
 unable to conceal my feverish interest. 
 
 "Two years," he said; "just about two years. 
 Margaret that is, Miss Hansborough was 
 visiting friends in Cambridge. I met her 
 chanced to see her, you know and succeeded 
 in getting an introduction." 
 
 That was six months or so before the time of 
 the singular disappearance of Julian Randolph, 
 according to the information given me by the 
 valet. 
 
 Benson had answered fully, but as if prompt 
 ing one who ought to know, and he seemed, or 
 pretended to seem, puzzled. He did not need 
 to tell me the rest. Having succeeded in getting 
 an introduction to Miss Hansborough, he had 
 continued successfully the acquaintance thus 
 begun. So the fellow had courage and persist 
 ence! But his face had already told me that. 
 Miss Hansborough had courage and persistence, 
 too, as I had seen. I wondered vaguely how they 
 would get on together when they were married. 
 
 I noticed now that though Benson had fur 
 nished the cigars he was not smoking. He held 
 a cigar in his fingers, but he had not lighted it, 
 and presently he laid it on the table. He 
 observed that I regarded this with suspicion; 
 and, indeed, the thought had flashed on me that 
 
 39
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Mrs. Randolph had but banished me to the 
 library that she might gain a few minutes in 
 which to confer with Miss Hansborough as to 
 the next steps to be taken in this little comedy- 
 drama. 
 
 But Benson proceeded to enlighten me. 
 
 "I have to cut 'em out while in training," 
 he said, simply. 
 
 He continued to stare into the street. 
 
 "I rather like the noise here," he remarked, 
 as he thus looked from the window. "I mean 
 out in the city on Broadway. When you 
 breast the human tide of Broadway you feel 
 that you're living." 
 
 Then we talked, in general terms, of the great 
 metropolis that lay at our feet and all about 
 us, babbling, roaring, growling, with its sky- 
 piled riches and its misery that grovels and 
 loves the dirt and the dark. But not for an 
 instant did I forget Mrs. Randolph and my 
 strange position, nor cease to torment myself 
 as to the outcome of the singular adventure into 
 which I had been plunged. 
 
 When we had returned from the library, and 
 I was trying in my still hesitant mood to play 
 a game of cribbage which Mrs. Randolph fairly 
 forced me into, while Benson and his fiancee 
 had their heads together in another corner of 
 
 40
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 the drawing room, making a pretence of poring 
 over a book, but talking of me, as I knew, Mrs. 
 Randolph, whose playing had been as bad as 
 my own (which is saying it could hardly have 
 been worse) looked up and fixed her azure eyes 
 on me. 
 
 "Julian," she said, bending forward and 
 speaking softly, "you know that I love you, 
 and am wild with delight, but but it was 
 cruel, unless " 
 
 "Unless what?" I asked hoarsely, tumbling 
 down out of my Heaven like Icarus from his. 
 
 "Unless you were were not just right in 
 your mind, you know." 
 
 "Deucedly so!" I stammered. 
 
 "When you went away before, you did leave 
 word, you know, which we didn't get for a 
 week, however. But that was excusable, be 
 cause of the circumstances." 
 
 What under the heavens was she talking 
 about ? 
 
 "You had to go suddenly, because the 
 steamer was ready; but you gave John a tele 
 gram to send, and it wasn't his fault that he 
 was struck by a trolley car and lay for a week 
 in a hospital unconscious. But you did cable 
 from the other side, and you wrote." 
 
 "Yes," I said, non-committally. 
 
 41
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I couldn't think of anything else to say. My 
 heart was beating up into my throat. Can a 
 man deceive the woman he loves ? I was sure 
 I already loved her, and loved her wildly. 
 
 ;"I've feared your mind wasn't just right since 
 you received that dreadful fall on the polo field." 
 
 She searched my face with her shining eyes. 
 
 "That's it!" I said, grasping at the straw. 
 "That must be the trouble." 
 
 "And you must have fallen and injured your 
 self there in Camden." 
 
 "Exactly; that explains it!" I said. 
 
 "You can't remember things ?" 
 
 "No, I can't remember any of the things you 
 are telling me." 
 
 Feeling that I was a scoundrel and hypocrite, 
 I wondered what she would think of me if she 
 could look into my heart; what she must ulti 
 mately think of me ? For this could not go on 
 forever. If she could have so looked, she would 
 have seen my base deception, but she would 
 have seen, also, my great love. And I have 
 been told by those who profess to know that to 
 a woman strong and genuine love will excuse 
 many things. She would have seen not only 
 that I loved her, but that her presence merely 
 had suddenly become as necessary to me as the 
 air I breathed. And that because of it, and 
 
 42
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 the mental confusion into which my determina 
 tion to win her had hurled me, I was groping 
 my way, and did not know whether to play the 
 part of an honest man or a dissembler. 
 
 "You recall the things that happened while 
 you were gone?" she asked, tremulously. 
 
 I began to wish heartily that I could run 
 away; I could have foregone even the delight 
 of her presence for a little while rather than be 
 forced to lie to her so baldly. 
 
 "No," I answered; and I tried to deceive 
 myself into thinking that in some circuitous 
 manner I was telling the truth. 
 
 "You have no memory of it ?" 
 
 There was a sharp, rising inflection, though 
 her voice was kept low so that those whisperers 
 in the corner could not hear. 
 
 "None whatever," was my conscienceless 
 reply. 
 
 I saw it was necessary to say this, if I was to 
 go on playing my part; and I saw, too, that 
 further admissions of like intent would be need 
 ful before I got very far. 
 
 "And the worst of it is," I continued desper 
 ately, under this spur, "I seem to have for 
 gotten the past wholly. I had even forgotten 
 you ! And for the life of me, I don't recall any 
 thing about that young fellow over there, who 
 
 43
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 seems to know me, and whom you call Jack 
 Benson." 
 
 The thing was incredible to her, on any other 
 theory than that I had lost my mind temporarily 
 and was now recovering it slowly. And that 
 added a touch of pity to the look of sorrowing 
 love in her eyes. It paled also the clear damask 
 of her cheeks. 
 
 "Try to think!" she urged. 
 
 For an instant I did not know what to say; 
 then I plunged on, desperately. 
 
 "Was I ever in this condition before?" I 
 queried. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I hoped I had been," I said, stammering, 
 "for that would account for it." 
 
 "I have telegraphed to Doctor Thompson. 
 Unfortunately, he is out of town. But he will 
 return to-morrow, and then he will come 
 straight here. He is a safe man; keeps his 
 tongue still about the affairs of other people, 
 and is the finest specialist in the city." 
 
 The thought of an interview with this keen- 
 eyed specialist frightened me. 
 
 "I have denied it twice already," I said. 
 "What if I should say again that I am not your 
 husband ?" 
 
 She tried to laugh merrily. 
 
 44
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 "As if a man could so declare to his wife!" 
 
 "But I doubt it myself," I urged. "Even 
 now I doubt it." 
 
 "Julian," she said, earnestly, "I have been 
 studying mental diseases. I took it up through 
 some charity work which made me acquainted 
 with Doctor Thompson. And I have continued it, 
 for no other reason than to occupy my mind some 
 what, and because the subject fascinated me." 
 
 (A strange subject to fascinate so beautiful, 
 so calm-eyed a woman!) 
 
 "So, if you should tell me, and persist in say 
 ing it, that you are not my husband, I should 
 simply know that you are not mentally right. 
 It is a phase of certain mental troubles, this 
 denial of identity. But if you don't deny it I 
 shall feel better, for then I shall know that you 
 are better." 
 
 "Then I won't deny it," I answered, striving 
 for gayety. 
 
 It seemed that I was to have an excuse for 
 my lying. Every liar who ever lived has sought 
 a valid excuse for his falsehoods, even Ananias. 
 I tried to smile. But, Heavens, where was this 
 to end ? I was getting deeper in every minute. 
 
 Yet there was one soothing thought not ab 
 sent for a moment. Whatever came of this 
 extraordinary adventure, my chances of win- 
 
 45
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 ning this woman for my wife were much better 
 than if I had never met her at all; with which 
 you will of course agree. 
 
 As I sat there listening to her voice, drinking 
 from the wells of her clear blue eyes, noting the 
 perfect contour of the now too pallid face, men 
 tally lashing myself at the same time for a 
 scoundrel, I rooted more firmly my determina 
 tion that out of this, through this, or in spite of 
 it, I would yet win this woman for my wife. 
 She should become to me even what she now 
 believed herself to be. How this was to be 
 accomplished I did not know and could not 
 guess, but that did not shake my determination. 
 
 When Jack Benson and Miss Hansborough 
 went out of the room presently, evidently to 
 leave us alone together, Mrs. Randolph drew 
 her chair against mine. 
 
 "Julian," she said, with a catching of her 
 breath, "whatever others thought, I cherished 
 the hope from the first that you were not dead, 
 even though But we will not bring back 
 that horrible dream!" 
 
 Then she was crying softly on my shoulder. 
 The overpowering feeling of my baseness shook 
 me, as her head rested thus. It crowded down 
 and killed my longing to put my arms round her 
 and comfort her, or make the pretence.
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 "The whole thing is too bad!" was all I 
 could say. 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad glad!" she cried. 
 
 I patted her hair inanely. 
 
 "Don't cry," I urged. 
 
 "You must have thought me heartless, the 
 way I acted when I saw you ? I wanted to 
 scream and jump out of the carriage. I don't 
 know how I restrained myself. But I was 
 afraid, Julian " 
 
 "Yes?" I said, while the blood sang hot in 
 my head, and I cursed myself, with mental 
 gnashings of my teeth. 
 
 "I didn't know how you would receive it," 
 she explained, "and that's why we laughed so, 
 and conducted ourselves like silly schoolgirls. 
 When you had remained away so long I was 
 afraid, when I saw you, of mental trouble, and 
 that you might go, and we couldn't stop you. 
 The whole thing has been too strange for words; 
 and " 
 
 "Entirely too strange for words!" 
 
 "But I knew you would come back to me 
 some time, if you were living, Julian. For you 
 did love me. You told me so more than once." 
 
 Then she cried out again, weeping on my 
 shoulder: 
 
 "Oh, Julian, I am so glad glad! " 
 
 47
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 The breaking point had come for me; I could 
 not stand it longer. 
 
 "I feel strangely weak and bewildered," I 
 said, brushing her hair with my lips; "and if 
 if you are willing, I should like to go up to my 
 rooms for a little while until " 
 
 I stammered, and broke down. 
 
 "Yes, yes!" she said, starting up. 
 
 She looked at me, her face white with anxious 
 fears, ready to yield any point without opposi 
 tion. 
 
 "It is nothing," I urged; "it will pass off 
 directly. But 
 
 Remorse gripped me. I could not go on. 
 
 "Shall I send a servant with you ?" she asked, 
 her lips tremulous. 
 
 "No, no!" I ejaculated. 
 
 "Or your valet? Jerome can be called at 
 once. Let me send Jerome." 
 
 "No," I said, "no one; nothing of the kind!" 
 
 I put aside her clinging hands. 
 
 "I'll see you again in a little while," I prom 
 ised, weakly. 
 
 Then I fled, basely, cowardly, fearfully, 
 climbing the broad stairs with trembling and 
 hurried feet to the rooms I had been told were 
 my own. I wanted to rush out into the street, 
 but at the moment lacked the necessary courage
 
 THE DISSEMBLER 
 
 of self-denial, and was still too hesitating. And 
 I doubted if that would be proper treatment of 
 Mrs. Randolph. I knew I must see her again. 
 Thought of excluding myself from her was 
 already impossible. 
 
 As I dropped weakly into a chair I became 
 conscious that a heavy perspiration had broken 
 out all over my body. As soon as I had 
 strength I looked again at my reflection in the 
 pier glass, wondering how my inconsiderate 
 flight would be viewed by Mrs. Randolph 
 my wife. My God, my wife! 
 
 I sank into the chair again, quite unnerved, 
 and passed a trembling hand over my smoothly- 
 shaven face; I looked at the clothing I was 
 wearing his, her husband's! My misery and 
 self-denunciation racked me until I groaned. 
 The thing I had entered into with all the 
 abandon of a comic opera character had re 
 solved itself into this ! 
 
 The comic opera villain extricates himself 
 easily from the direst situations, to the great 
 amusement of the spectators; or fails inglori- 
 ously, equally to the amusement of the spec 
 tators. But what was I to do ? This was not 
 comic opera. 
 
 I began to walk the room, furiously, fever 
 ishly. Once I stopped before the glass, and 
 
 49
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 was sensible of my ridiculous comic opera atti 
 tude hands thrust deep into my pockets, 
 shoulders drawn together, head down in collar 
 like a tortoise trying to retreat into its own 
 shell, face ghastly white, with hectic flushes, as 
 if I were indeed a stage villain with paint and 
 powder touches applied, ready to stand forth in 
 the glare of the lime-light and "still pursue 
 her." 
 
 Seeing my ridiculous pose I dropped into the 
 chair again, to think over the situation as calmly 
 as I could. And I demanded of myself with 
 much vehemence why I did not at once leave 
 the house in an honorable way, if I had any 
 honor left, or fly dishonorably, if I utterly lacked 
 manliness. 
 
 5
 
 BACK FROM THE DEAD 
 
 THOSE twins, Uncertainty and Hesitation, 
 born in a flame of sudden love and sudden 
 longing, had unnerved me and made me 
 less than a man. When I thought of what Mrs. 
 Randolph had already become to me I cowered 
 before the fear of her scorn and hate. Her arms 
 had been round my neck I seemed still to feel 
 their warm pressure; and her kisses still burned 
 hot on my face. Could I renounce her and go my 
 lonely way ? Could I so much as run the risk 
 of losing her ? 
 
 I knew now that the light of her eyes, change 
 able as the sky, deep, unfathomable, haunting 
 as the sea, had lured me from the first, with a 
 strength stronger than the mere spirit of adven 
 ture. The romance, the novelty, the insistence 
 whose imperious certainty melted into tears, the 
 questioning mystery which stirred the inquisi 
 tive instinct all had been there; but the real 
 lure lay in those azure eyes, in the sweet bright 
 ness and earnestness of her face, in the tremu 
 lous music of her voice.
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 The joys we have not known we do not con 
 sciously miss. If Helen's beauty had never 
 ravished the sight of Paris he would have turned 
 to some other charmer, or gone his way un 
 moved by fascinations feminine, and still would 
 have enjoyed life. But after he had seen her! 
 I had seen my Helen. 
 
 How does one know when he has met Her ? 
 How does the Princess know the disguised 
 Prince when he walks out of the scented wood 
 of the fairy tale, the sunlight on his yellow hair ? 
 She knows him, even though he wears hodden 
 gray and performs the tasks of a menial. And 
 every little bird nest-building in the branches, 
 or brooding warm blue eggs in which life is 
 stirring, knows that he is the Prince, and re 
 joices. In the same way I knew. Her face 
 had haunted my dreams; and Her voice had 
 long sounded in my ears, even as the voice of 
 the ocean murmurs forever in the pink ear of the 
 sea-shell wherever that shell may be. 
 
 You have been in love. Yet perhaps you 
 never loved as already I loved Her. For the 
 love that comes as the lightning's flash may be 
 even stronger than the love that grows through 
 a season and matures slowly until it exhales its 
 full fragrance like a rose. Love is the parent of 
 Joy. Yet it was not Joy I felt, but Fear 
 
 52
 
 BACK FROM THE DEAD 
 
 Fear clutched me, lest having found Her I 
 should by some stumble lose Her. 
 
 Sent by Mrs. Randolph, Jerome came to me 
 soon, pushing his white, placid, English face 
 into the room with cautious sympathy. 
 
 "Is there something I can do for you, sir?" 
 he said, respectfully. 
 
 He did not look at me directly, but glanced 
 about furtively, and picked from the floor the 
 silk-lined manicure case I had knocked down, 
 restoring it with a quiet air to its place. 
 
 "Nothing, I believe, Jerome," I answered, 
 mastering my emotions and my voice as well as 
 I could. "I shall go to bed soon, and I shall 
 not need your help in retiring." 
 
 He still glanced about the rooms, and picked 
 an imaginary thread of cloth from a chair seat 
 in lieu of something else with which to occupy 
 his hands. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he said, helplessly; and then he 
 retreated, as silent-footed as when he came. 
 
 As soon as he was gone my tempestuous un 
 rest set me to walking again. I knew that Mrs. 
 Randolph was awaiting my return to her, but I 
 could not go. I hoped she would credit my 
 action to the eccentricity which I believed had 
 been part and parcel of the make-up of Julian 
 Randolph. Randolph's actions were, it seemed, 
 
 53
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 likely to belong to the inscrutable domains of 
 Topsy-Turvy Land, where Guesswork sits en 
 throned on a column of big question marks and 
 holds out to all who approach him the symbol 
 of the sphinx on the end of his sceptre. I was 
 glad to think this was so. 
 
 I was horrified, as I looked into the pier 
 glass, for my face was so white it was corpse- 
 like. I was like some Flagellant, lashing him 
 self with cactus thongs while clinging to the sin 
 that caused the self-scourging. I spat scorn at 
 that white face in the mirror and hated myself 
 sincerely. 
 
 At intervals I had an accession of courage, 
 and then I was on the point of returning to 
 Mrs. Randolph and declaring to her again with 
 passionate earnestness the whole truth, even 
 though it turned me away from her forever. 
 But this courage was never strong enough to 
 push me through the door and down the broad 
 stairs into her presence. 
 
 Not having determined to leave the house, by 
 and by I removed my shoes, so that in my restless 
 walking I might disturb no one might not dis 
 turb Her, nor let her know of my restlessness. I 
 even began to hope she would think I had retired 
 and fallen asleep; and as the time passed I tried 
 to think that she had given over waiting for me. 
 
 54
 
 BACK FROM THE DEAD 
 
 But I was undeceived. A soft rap sounded 
 on my door and a low voice called : 
 
 "Julian!" 
 
 It was Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 "Yes?" I answered, and my voice trembled. 
 
 "I have been anxious about you. You are 
 quite well, are you ?" 
 
 "Thank you for inquiring," I answered. 
 "Yes, I am quite well." 
 
 She stood a moment in hesitation, and then I 
 heard her turn to go away. 
 
 "Good night!" she called. 
 
 "Good night!" I cried. "And God bless 
 you!" 
 
 I heard her retreat softly, while I sat staring 
 at the door as if I would pierce its wooden 
 barrier with my eyes. 
 
 "You scoundrel!" I whispered, facing my 
 pallid reflection in the pier glass when she was 
 gone. "You double-dyed villain! You mere 
 image and outward semblance of a man, with 
 out a man's soul or honor! You are a 
 coward!" 
 
 Yet cowardice and hesitation still held me. 
 I knew I could not get out of the house without 
 Mrs. Randolph knowing it I was not sure 
 that I really wanted to get out and the hours 
 slipped away. 
 
 55
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Twice I stole forth into the long hall, shoes 
 in hand. But I fancied I saw a servant watch 
 ing me, and I went no farther. If I could have 
 
 O ' 
 
 gained the street then unobserved, I believe I 
 should have fled, to lose myself somewhere, 
 never to return. Yet in the shock of seeing the 
 servant I was glad glad I had been seen and 
 stopped. 
 
 Going at times to the window, I looked out 
 on the gleaming lights of the city, when the 
 house was quiet, lights that, on the cross streets, 
 ran on in twin lines of brilliant flashes. And 
 the roar of the city came to me that intermi 
 nable roar. Nearer were the pattering of hoofs 
 and the subdued roll of rubber-tired vehi 
 cles; and farther away the city's wild beast 
 grumble, as if the very paving blocks knew they 
 were being hammered for bread and blood. 
 And so I continued to walk the floor con 
 tinued to hesitate and delay, wearing out the 
 night and myself. 
 
 This wild-beast grumble became less as the 
 night advanced. But the lights continued to 
 flash, until Day came, and looked in on a pallid 
 man staring at the pallid sky. But in the 
 breaking dawn there was one brief period of 
 ineffable beauty, when the old moon hung low, 
 just over the house-tops, with pale-flame clouds 
 
 56
 
 BACK FROM THE DEAD 
 
 cradling it, and the sky above blushing into 
 delicate shell pink. Even my troubled mind 
 was forced to note the beauty of that scene. 
 
 In my studies of the situation, in my backing 
 and filling, there came to me now and then the 
 thought, almost the conviction, that I was not 
 so much to blame was not so much the de 
 ceiver as the deceived. At such times I still 
 wondered with vague apprehensions if it could 
 be possible that Mrs. Randolph was making 
 sport of me. That involved the further thought, 
 disturbing to my vanity, that Miss Hansborough 
 and Jack Benson, and even the English valet, 
 were all using me as the butt of a joke. Per 
 haps in the morning I should be kicked from 
 the house in disgrace! Well, I knew it would 
 serve me right. I deserved that, and far more. 
 
 With the gray dawn breaking, I slipped down 
 to the street door. I wore my shoes this time, 
 and almost meant to leave the house. Though 
 servants were stirring, I was sure I could get 
 out, and be far enough away before Mrs. Ran 
 dolph's rising hour. 
 
 I had all the shrinking of a timid burglar as I 
 stole thus through the halls and down the stair 
 way, and when I beheld a servant by the door 
 I wanted to turn about in flight. I saw, how 
 ever, that if I really wished to get out of the 
 
 57
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 house now was the time. As I approached 
 this servant he opened the street door, and 
 when he drew back I saw that he had a morn 
 ing paper. A staring head-line caught my eye 
 and changed my purpose instantly. 
 
 "I will take the paper," I said, as boldly as I 
 could. 
 
 He relinquished it to me, reluctantly I 
 thought, and the next moment I was running 
 through the hall and climbing the stairs, the 
 paper clutched tightly. 
 
 On the upper landing I glanced at it again; 
 then continued on into my rooms in most undig 
 nified haste. With shaking fingers I closed and 
 locked the door, and sinking breathlessly into 
 a chair I stared at those head-lines ; then began 
 to read with feverish intentness what was be 
 neath them. 
 
 THE BOSOM OF HIS FAMILY 
 
 Three columns wide and a fourth of a column 
 in length, those head-lines, with others, fairly 
 hurled themselves at me. They told the story; 
 
 58
 
 BACK FROM THE DEAD 
 
 yet more than two columns of astounding and 
 sensational comment followed. 
 
 As I read I sat dumbfounded. This put a 
 new face on the matter. I had not thought of 
 the ubiquitous newspaper reporter with his 
 insatiable thirst for sensation. Some one had 
 witnessed my meeting with Mrs. Randolph and 
 her sister, and some gossipy house servant had 
 talked. And here it was, spread to the light of 
 day. Added to the shock was the pity I felt 
 for Mrs. Randolph. This was cruel. 
 
 The valet came before I had decided my 
 course of action. I tucked the offending news 
 paper out of sight, and admitted him. 
 
 "You are up early, sir," he said. 
 
 The expression of his face was block-like. 
 It was hard for me to believe that this man 
 possessed human emotions. 
 
 "I did not sleep well," I explained. 
 
 That I had not slept at all he must have 
 known, for I still had on the clothing worn the 
 previous evening. 
 
 "Sorry, sir," was his comment. "Something 
 I can do for you, sir ?" 
 
 He pulled open a drawer and began to take 
 the razor from its case of satin and silver. I 
 stayed him with a gesture. 
 
 " I don't think I will be shaved this morning." 
 
 59
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 He put the razor away and closed the drawer. 
 
 "Jerome," I said, "just lay out the clothing 
 I'm to wear to-day, and then you may be 
 excused." 
 
 He began to obey, silently. He was a wise 
 servant and showed nothing of the surprise he 
 probably felt. I wanted to be rid of him, to be 
 alone, that I might re-read that newspaper re 
 port without having my face read at the same 
 time, and give myself further thought on this 
 unique and puzzling situation. I felt that it 
 was needful now for me to lay my course as 
 carefully as a sea captain who is navigating a 
 dangerous sea in a fog. Only this was wholly 
 an unchartered sea to me. Steer as carefully as 
 I might, I was likely to go on the rocks at any 
 time. 
 
 Yet curiosity got the better of me. 
 
 "Jerome," I said, as he turned to go, "I sup 
 pose my disappearance my death as it was 
 thought to be created wide comment at the 
 time in all the papers?" 
 
 "Very true, sir," he answered, turning to look 
 at me. 
 
 "No reporters have tried to interview you, or 
 the other servants, since my my return?" 
 
 For the first time his face showed color and 
 animation or it may have been indignation. 
 
 60
 
 BACK FROM THE DEAD 
 
 "They have even tried to sneak into the 
 house, sir, if a door was left open a moment! 
 A half-dozen are outside now." 
 
 In imagination I saw them then, an army of 
 them, trying to storm the steps from the avenue. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Randolph aware of this ?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir; she gave orders that none was 
 to be admitted, and that none of the servants 
 was to talk. Twice I have myself been offered 
 bribes to tell what I knew. And they have 
 tried many times very many times to see 
 you and Mrs. Randolph." 
 
 "Thank you; that is all, Jerome," I said 
 weakly, dismissing him. 
 
 I was indeed beleaguered, and had not known 
 it. All knowledge of it had been kept from me 
 carefully by Mrs. Randolph. She had held the 
 reportorial mob at bay alone. But out there 
 the yellow flags of the sensational press were 
 flying, and mustered under them were men who 
 never acknowledged defeat. I did not doubt 
 that sooner or later they would accomplish their 
 purpose and reach me even over the barriers 
 erected by Mrs. Randolph's devotion to the man 
 she believed to be her husband. 
 
 As I changed my clothing I tried to think to 
 some satisfactory conclusion, and realized that 
 even had I fled in the night from the house I 
 
 61
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 should have been pursued by the reporters. 
 I could hardly have escaped their vigilant es 
 pionage. The sensation in which they were 
 revelling would have yellowed to the deepest 
 saffron. Their papers would have become mere 
 screaming head-lines ; and if I had sought to 
 hide, or fly, the reportorial hounds would have 
 been in full cry, voicing their clamor to the ear 
 of the startled night. I was glad now I had not 
 tried to leave the house. 
 
 But what was I to do ? They would find me 
 out; they would expose me! 
 
 62
 
 VI 
 
 WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 
 
 WHILE I still considered, striving to reach 
 some satisfactory decision, there was a 
 gentle tap on the door. When I opened 
 it I beheld Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 Her attire was brighter than it had been be 
 fore. I cannot name a single detail of that 
 change, but it was as if a rather sober, dark- 
 hued bird had put gold and silver and color of 
 flame and rainbow on its wings, or as when a 
 graceful, burgeoning tree crowns itself with 
 leaves and flowers under the influence of the 
 warm life of spring stirring in its heart. Her 
 beauty enthralled me. Yet in it there was 
 pathos, and the traces of grief and tears mingled 
 with joy. 
 
 "May I come in?" she said, with attempted 
 brightness. 
 
 "Yes, certainly," I answered; "delighted to 
 see you! I have been thinking of you." 
 
 "Jerome hasn't been to attend on you ?" 
 
 She looked at me anxiously as she came in, 
 and I thought she smiled a little wearily, though 
 
 63
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 she was trying to seem cheerful, and even 
 happy. 
 
 "I was anxious about you, through the night. 
 You fairly fled from me, you know. I'm afraid 
 you didn't sleep well, for we heard you walk 
 ing about. Jack went away shortly after you 
 started to your rooms, and I spent the night 
 with Margaret. You won't mind if I confess 
 that I once tiptoed to your door here ? I 
 was so anxious!" 
 
 That charm indefinably feminine, which 
 makes strong men fall prostrate at the feet of 
 women, surrounded her like an atmosphere, or 
 the perfume of flowers. Sometimes women who 
 are not beautiful have it. She possessed it, and 
 was beautiful. 
 
 The desire to take her in my arms I repressed 
 with difficulty; I felt that she would not object, 
 would even be glad, and would have nestled her 
 bright head against my breast in happiness. 
 She was longing for the clasp of my arms (the 
 arms of the man she supposed to be her hus 
 band) even as I was longing to draw her to me 
 in a close embrace and tell her how I loved her, 
 and I knew it. Yet I took that wild desire 
 by the throat and strangled it as if it were a 
 wolf. 
 
 As I sank into a chair, unnerved and un- 
 
 64
 
 WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 
 
 manned, she drew up another, and sat down 
 by me, her hand on my arm. 
 
 "Julian," her low voice trembled, "don't 
 think, dear, that I want to say anything to 
 trouble you!" 
 
 "Oh, I know you do not!" I answered. "I 
 must seem like a dog to you the veriest cur." 
 
 She gasped as with pain, and the clutch of 
 her hand tightened. 
 
 "Not at all," she insisted gently. "I know 
 that that you are not not very well. It 
 was for that reason I sent for our old physician. 
 You recall when I became acquainted with him 
 in that charity work, don't you ? And you 
 liked him." 
 
 A clammy sweat came out on my forehead. 
 
 "He was away yesterday, you remember I 
 told you. You will receive him?" 
 
 "If I must," I said, desperately. 
 
 I glanced round, like a hunted rat searching 
 for a hole. 
 
 "I have given orders that no one is to disturb 
 you," she went on, calmly, "and that no one is 
 to be admitted. You are nervous very ner 
 vous. Doctor Thompson will be able to give 
 you something that will help you." 
 
 I looked at her again, that flood of passionate 
 longing surging within me like a rising tide. 
 
 65
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Simple faith lighted her eyes; and here was I 
 again playing the hypocrite in the most monu 
 mental fashion. 
 
 "We haven't talked over the matter thor 
 oughly," I said. 
 
 I was mean enough to wish to know more of 
 Julian Randolph and his past, that I might 
 have better footing for my uncertain steps. 
 Though I had not decided to continue my 
 despicable role, I was still unable to decide not 
 to continue it, and had a feeling that I might be 
 driven on in my present course; for I could not 
 think of leaving this woman, now that I knew 
 her, even though I might loathe myself for 
 remaining. I felt that to leave her was to lose 
 her. In addition, if I was to meet this doctor, 
 it was desirable for me to learn all I could, 
 that I might do it successfully. I should be a 
 good actor indeed, and should need all possible 
 self-possession and knowledge, if I was to de 
 ceive him. 
 
 " Julian, dear," she was saying, even as these 
 thoughts went through my harassed mind, 
 "have you quite forgotten all the circumstances 
 of your going away?" 
 
 I hesitated. Should I lie to her ? 
 
 "If the things you tell me are true, I have 
 forgotten everything," I replied brazenly. 
 
 66
 
 WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 
 
 "Poor boy!" she said, and stroked my arm. 
 
 "I had a talk with Jerome, and he told me 
 something," I said, wondering how I was to 
 justify my present attitude and square myself 
 eventually. "This doctor knows me well, you 
 say?" 
 
 "Thoroughly." 
 
 "Suppose he declares that ?" I stopped, 
 hesitating. 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "Suppose he declares that there is no loss of 
 memory ? " 
 
 "There is no danger of that, dear." 
 
 I made another effort to be honest with myself 
 and her. 
 
 "But I have told you," I urged, "that I was 
 astounded when you claimed me as your hus 
 band. My memory of events is not the same 
 as yours. I do not recall this house, nor the 
 places of which Jerome told me, nor even 
 Jerome himself. I must be honest with you; I 
 am not the man you think I am I am not 
 your husband!" 
 
 Her arms were round my neck instantly and 
 she was sobbing. I tried to release myself, but 
 her arms clung tight as tendrils. 
 
 "No no!" she cried, sobbing more vio 
 lently. "Now, be a good boy, Julian! I know,
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 of course, that you would not have remained 
 away from me if you had been just yourself. 
 So this does not disturb me." (My God did 
 not disturb her; and she was weeping like 
 Niobe!) "Doctor Thompson will be able to 
 help you. I have the utmost faith in him." 
 
 I saw I could not leave her at once. And 
 how I dreaded that doctor! How weak I was, 
 too, to let her cling to me in that manner! I 
 cursed my unmanliness. 
 
 Before she could say more, or I could think 
 of anything other than my combined happiness 
 and misery, quick steps were heard beyond the 
 door, and then a light knock. 
 
 She rose hurriedly and opened the door. A 
 servant stood there. 
 
 "Doctor Thompson has arrived," was the 
 announcement. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph slipped from the room and 
 ran down the stairs. Then I heard her talking 
 with him in the hall below. She conducted him 
 to my rooms, but did not enter. Yet I felt that 
 she was near. 
 
 I eyed him closely as he came in. He was a 
 gray-bearded, gray-eyed man, his hair close- 
 cropped, his beard of the Vandyke cut, his 
 clothing gray and loose-fitting, and he held in 
 his left hand the gray glove he had removed 
 
 68
 
 WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 
 
 when he met her. He extended the ungloved 
 hand to me as I rose, and the keen eyes searched 
 my face, while I flushed with embarrassment. 
 There was a piercing quality in those eyes which 
 made me think of probes. I was sure he would 
 penetrate my mask at once. Hence his greet 
 ing puzzled me; for I had expected him to 
 retreat, or perhaps stand firm and denounce 
 me. He did neither, 
 
 "Glad to see you, Mr. Randolph," he said, 
 in the friendliest manner, sinking into a chair 
 near the one I had dropped back into, while he 
 still probed me with those keen eyes which 
 needed no aid of glasses. 
 
 Then he began to talk, laughing and smiling, 
 though I still felt that he was searching me 
 through and through. I had a sort of angry 
 irritation, and was resentful, and I held myself 
 in reserve, determined not to trip myself up. 
 Having lost the will to confess my imposture, I 
 began to pit my intellect and keenness against 
 his professional knowledge and acumen. And 
 a certain feeling of pride came to aid me. It 
 seemed to me it would be a rare triumph if I 
 could deceive this sharp-eyed physician. But 
 apparently he was already deceived. Mrs. 
 Randolph had deceived him, so thoroughly was 
 she deceived herself.
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I learned that he had driven down in his 
 phaeton, instead of coming in an automobile or 
 public conveyance, for he began to talk of his 
 horse, with all the pride of a professional jockey. 
 It was a wonderful horse; young, strong, beau 
 tiful as one of the steeds of Achilles, and he 
 gloried in his ability to manage it in the crowded 
 city streets. I quite forgot myself in his enthu 
 siasm over that horse. 
 
 "He will probably injure you some day," I 
 suggested. 
 
 He blew out his thin cheeks, setting the stiff 
 gray beard on edge, while his keen eyes snapped 
 with delight. 
 
 "Not the least danger in the world!" 
 
 He made the assertion in the confident tone 
 of a man who knows his power. 
 
 Having exhausted the merits of that marvel 
 lous horse, and having made me forget myself, 
 he asked suddenly: 
 
 "What are your plans now ?" 
 
 My heart jumped and my cheeks flamed, 
 while I tried hard to adjust quickly the steel 
 armor of my defence. 
 
 "I have none," I answered weakly. 
 
 He took my hand and pressed his long fore 
 finger on my pulse, while my heart was swinging 
 like a trip-hammer. 
 
 70
 
 WHEN THE FATES WERE CRAZY 
 
 "You will be wise to take a little sea trip," 
 he advised. "Run up to Newport or Boston, 
 or even farther. The noise of the city doesn't 
 trouble you ?" 
 
 "Not in the least," was my truthful answer. 
 
 "A little sea trip, after a few days, will be a 
 good thing; and your wife will enjoy it." 
 
 A sudden scorn of him must have flashed in 
 my eyes. Yet he laughed quietly, kept his 
 finger on my pulse, and looked again at the dial 
 of his little, open-face watch. His manner, 
 and the ticking of the watch, with the knowl 
 edge that my pulse was jumping feverishly, 
 annoyed me. 
 
 He released my hand and put the watch back 
 into his pocket. 
 
 "I will write a prescription and give it to 
 Mrs. Randolph. And quite unprofessionally, I 
 wish to say that I'm very glad to know that you 
 are doing so well. Perhaps in a day or two you 
 will like to drop round to my office ?" 
 
 He took out his professional card undemon- 
 stratively and laid it on the table. And he 
 wrung my hand again, as he got ready to go. 
 
 I heard him speak to Mrs. Randolph in the 
 lower hall, and heard them talking in low tones 
 as they walked away together. 
 
 I dropped back into my chair and wanted to 
 
 71
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 laugh, and condemned myself for this feeling 
 of levity. Yet why should I not laugh ? I had 
 been given to understand that this man stood 
 at the head of his profession! And he was, or 
 seemed to be, deceived as completely as Mrs. 
 Randolph herself. Had comedy ever such a 
 situation ? The Fates had gone crazy; and the 
 Oracles were dumb, or drunk.
 
 VII 
 
 IN THE FOOL'S PARADISE 
 
 WE breakfasted in the bright, well-lighted 
 dining room, where the clatter of hoofs 
 and the roll of wheels reached us but 
 faintly. By day the dining room had lost some 
 thing of the splendor lent by soft, lily -bulbed 
 lights. It was a pleasant room, and quiet. 
 Carnations and blush roses sent forth their 
 fragrance; and Mrs. Randolph had placed a 
 carnation in her hair. But not a flower of them 
 all could match in loveliness the woman who 
 called me her husband. 
 
 Apparently determined to be bright and 
 charming, or because she really could not be 
 otherwise, she had put aside the tears that had 
 distressed me, and joyous welcome tripped from 
 her tongue. 
 
 Miss Hansborough, in white, was almost as 
 charming, and more girlish and piquant. No 
 remote reference was made by either to the 
 thing that I knew was uppermost in the heart 
 of each. It was as if I belonged there, and had 
 always been there. The situation was one of 
 
 73
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 such ease that when we began to talk it was as 
 good comrades and friends, while the silent ser 
 vants came and went, and the variable "clock- 
 clock" of hoofs reached us from apparently far 
 away. 
 
 All the while I pondered my singular position 
 and wondered as to its outcome. And yielding 
 to the weakness that had conquered me I tried 
 to give myself up to the enjoyment of what I was 
 sure was but a Fool's Paradise. But even a 
 short hour of this was worth much. I was 
 beginning to ask myself, too, why I should not 
 continue to dwell in Eden, since the Angel of 
 the Flaming Sword had fallen asleep, and, no 
 longer guarding the entrance, had let me in. 
 
 Here was I, who yesterday was but a friend 
 less stranger trying to be gay in gay Babylon, 
 occupying now this home of wealth and refine 
 ment as its recognized head, dowered not only 
 with the friendship, but with the love aye, 
 the worship! of its charming mistress. Had 
 Romance ever taken a more erratic gait! Not 
 only were the Fates crazy and the Oracles 
 drunk, but Fortunatus and Aladdin lived again 
 and were turning the world upside down for me. 
 
 Wealth hitherto unknown would be mine; 
 and this woman, this angel of the sky-bright 
 eyes and warm, brown hair, would be mine, 
 
 74
 
 IN THE FOOL'S PARADISE 
 
 also, if I yielded to the temptation that beset 
 me. Possible wealth had no seductive power 
 compared with that. With her I could abide 
 happy anywhere. 
 
 A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, 
 A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread and Thou 
 
 Beside me singing in the Wilderness 
 Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! 
 
 Thus temptation, with more than the strength 
 of Samson, tugged at the Gaza gates of my 
 soul, threatening to carry them away. 
 
 After a time Miss Hansborough began to talk 
 again of the Harvard-Yale game. 
 
 "It's going to be a great game, Jack says," 
 she declared with fine enthusiasm. "I wouldn't 
 miss it for anything." 
 
 She picked out the reddest of the roses 
 three of them and pinned one on my coat, 
 another on Mrs. Randolph's dress, and adorned 
 herself with the third. 
 
 "Rah, rah, rah, Harvard!" 
 
 She laughed merrily, and for the moment I 
 was really quite happy and enthusiastic. 
 
 "When is this great game to be ?" I asked. 
 
 "The twenty-second of this month June; 
 June, the Month of Roses ! I shall get a bunch 
 
 75
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 of the biggest and reddest roses I can find to 
 wear, and we'll simply fill the auto with them, 
 and with the Harvard colors." 
 
 "And that isn't so very far away, either," said 
 Mrs. Randolph. "If you're willing, Julian" 
 (she fixed her eyes on me), "we'll go to New 
 port in the Idler for a few days, and then we 
 can take the train for Boston, and send the 
 yacht round with the captain and crew." 
 
 If / were willing ? Heavens ! 
 
 "And we'll have just the jolliest time," said 
 Miss Hansborough, admiring the rose she had 
 pinned on her bosom. "Oh, I do hope Har 
 vard will win!" 
 
 "The doctor says," began Mrs. Randolph; 
 then hesitated, seeming to regret that she had 
 said anything. 
 
 "What does he say ?" I asked. 
 
 "He thought a little sea trip and change 
 would help you." 
 
 "Good!" I cried, in pretended high spirits. 
 "We'll sail the world over. I like that name 
 the Idler. It hints of basking seas, and coral 
 islands, and naked brown men, and all the 
 things I've read about and never expected to 
 see. I admire Doctor Thompson. When he 
 runs for mayor of New York I shall be the first 
 to vote for him."
 
 IN THE FOOL'S PARADISE 
 
 "Doctor Thompson is a wonderful man," 
 said Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 "He is!" I agreed, with pretended levity, yet 
 with covert meaning. "When he called to see 
 me he felt my pulse and talked about his horse. 
 We need such a man for President of these 
 United States. How he would see through all 
 the little schemes of the mere politicians!" 
 
 Though I was laughing as I ended I saw that 
 Mrs. Randolph was not pleased. She admired 
 that great man, Doctor Thompson, and be 
 lieved in him thoroughly; and I did not doubt 
 that she wrote generous checks for him, in a 
 fair and beautiful feminine hand. She would 
 have done as well, I felt, if she had thrown her 
 money into the East River. 
 
 We arose from the table, still talking, and 
 Miss Hansborough began to select some more 
 of the reddest of the roses. 
 
 I strolled uneasily into the library, where the 
 deep windows overlooked the avenue. Mrs. 
 Randolph followed me, and came and stood 
 with me by the window, looking through the 
 curtains into the street. In a few moments a 
 servant entered with cigars and placed them, 
 with matches, by the little brass ash-tray on the 
 table near the window. 
 
 As the servant retreated, Mrs. Randolph 
 
 77
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 drew up one of the chairs. I reached for an 
 other, which I placed beside it. She smiled 
 contentedly. And like a flash it came to me 
 that Julian Randolph had been accustomed to 
 sit by this window and smoke his after-break 
 fast cigar, and that often his wife sat with him. 
 My false gayety and the smile I had summoned 
 passed away together. However, I took one of 
 the cigars and lighted it, and sank into my 
 chair. Again my heart was hammering up into 
 my throat. 
 
 "Julian," she said, pathetically, yet brightly, 
 laying her hand on the arm of my chair and 
 looking at me with such earnestness that my 
 gaze wavered, "it is just Heaven to have you 
 home again."
 
 VIII 
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 A THING happened that morning, while I 
 still lingered and debated my course of 
 action, which determined me to continue 
 my role. This determination may have been 
 forced by my desire, but I refuse to think so. 
 I want to give myself credit for one small altru 
 istic sentiment. 
 
 Courtney Lane, Mrs. Randolph's business 
 manager, had been summoned to the house, 
 and came hurriedly. Standing well back in 
 the library I first caught sight of him framed in 
 one of the deep windows as in a draped picture, 
 as he stepped from his red automobile to the 
 curb. All I saw then was that he was young 
 and alert. My imagination was playing tricks 
 with me I suppose, as it had done frequently in 
 the past few hours, but I thought he sniffed the 
 air uneasily as he came up the steps, while the 
 automobile which had brought him r jlled away. 
 
 I heard him and Mrs. Randolph approach 
 ing the library, after a long talk, and as I 
 chanced at the moment to be standing close by 
 
 79
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 the door, this scrap of their low-toned conver 
 sation floated to me: 
 
 He: 
 
 "It's a mistake, and I seriously disapprove 
 of it." 
 
 She: 
 
 "Yet if he isn't allowed to do this it will 
 advertise the fact to the world, which is the 
 thing I wish to avoid." 
 
 I drew heavily at my cigar and moved away 
 from the door, wondering how I was to see this 
 thing through and what the nature of the com 
 ing interview was to be. 
 
 Then they came into the room, she smiling 
 and walking a little in advance of him. As I 
 rose from the chair into which I had retreated, 
 and for the first time saw his face clearly, I 
 experienced a mental shock; for I had met and 
 been introduced to this man but the week 
 before, in Philadelphia, under circumstances 
 which it was impossible he could forget. 
 
 As his eyes fell on me he stopped short, and 
 stood staring, like a gorgon head on a water 
 spout. Mrs. Randolph was introducing us, in 
 curiously unobservant. 
 
 "Mr. Lane, let me make you acquainted with 
 my husband; Mr. Randolph, Mr. Lane." 
 
 He had alert eyes of steely blue, and good 
 
 80
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 teeth as I saw when his lips opened in a strange, 
 incredulous smile. Whatever his thoughts he 
 suppressed them, but I knew we were enemies 
 from that moment. 
 
 "Glad to meet you/' I said, as composedly 
 as possible. 
 
 Lane's smile deepened with meaning. 
 
 "Pardon me for the suggestion," he said as 
 he seated himself; " but I had the strange expe 
 rience of meeting your counterpart, in Phila 
 delphia, the other night. It was at a students' 
 gathering, and the fellow was an under-pro- 
 fessor in the school there, I think." 
 
 But I had been given time to steel myself. 
 He looked at me steadily, and I as steadily 
 returned his gaze. He was a man of thirty, of 
 the alert, business type, and I was not surprised 
 to learn later that he dabbled in law, haunted 
 the stock exchange, and was Mrs. Randolph's 
 financial adviser. His only facial adornment 
 was a thin, dark moustache. 
 
 "I always thought that after Nature fash 
 ioned me she broke the mould," I said, as 
 lightly as I could. "There can't be another 
 man in the world like me." 
 
 "You were in Philadelphia that night?" he 
 asked, with restrained eagerness. 
 
 "And at that student gathering," I admitted, 
 
 81
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "As an instructor there, through a whim, I had 
 been for some time pouring my borrowed lore 
 into the heads of meek youths who accepted it 
 as the pure gold of knowledge. They only thought 
 that they knew less than I did. Mrs. Randolph 
 could tell you rare stories of my eccentricities, 
 no doubt, if she should choose to do so." 
 
 I spoke lightly, and hoped to bewilder him. 
 Mrs. Randolph's eyes opened a trifle and the 
 color rose in her cheeks. Lane's steely eyes 
 narrowed and glinted. 
 
 " I have sent for Mr. Lane, that we might talk 
 over some matters of business," she said, evasively. 
 
 "Very true," Lane assented. 
 
 He passed his hand over his thin moustache, 
 to hide a sceptical smile I thought. 
 
 "There has been a good deal of legal busi 
 ness, you understand," Mrs. Randolph con 
 tinued, "and Mr. Lane attended to it for me. 
 I had myself appointed administratrix, but I 
 was so inexperienced that I left the details to 
 him. He has the principal check books and 
 the lists of the stocks and securities. I gave 
 him a power of attorney to act in my place in 
 everything, and " 
 
 "To sign your bank checks ?" I said sharply, 
 and looked at him. 
 
 "I have the stubs showing the later checks," 
 
 82
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 he explained, "and a memorandum book here 
 containing a record of the recent purchases of 
 stocks. The others can be produced. I did 
 not just understand " 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 / understood, I thought. With a full power 
 of attorney, he was empowered to stand in her 
 stead, and that opened the way to all sorts of 
 questionable devices, unless he was a man of 
 the strictest integrity. I marvelled at Mrs. 
 Randolph's business stupidity. And when I 
 saw her look at him with what seemed to me 
 more than mere confidence I felt a swift fire 
 of jealousy. Already I hated Courtney Lane. 
 Those keen eyes, the rather sharp, firm chin, the 
 reposeful thin-lipped mouth, the broad daring 
 forehead, indicated a man who might be a keen 
 and resourceful Captain of Industry, an adroit 
 diplomat, a great gambler, or a plunger playing 
 the races and taking dangerous flyers in Wall 
 Street. Withal he was a man to deceive an 
 inexperienced woman into thinking him a 
 gentleman of stainless honor. 
 
 Instead of completing his sentence, he pro 
 duced a small memorandum book and some 
 stubs of bank check books. 
 
 "Everything recently done you will find a 
 note of here, Mr. Randolph."
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 He extended them to me, and emphasized the 
 name. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph arose and hovered at my 
 shoulder, explaining, as I looked at these 
 vouchers of his integrity. A hasty examination 
 showed me that checks had been drawn for 
 large sums, and that there had been heavy pur 
 chases of what I fancied were questionable 
 stocks, together with some losses. 
 
 "Why!" she exclaimed suddenly, in aston 
 ished perturbation, "I thought you told me that 
 the Python group would surely advance?" 
 
 "I thought so at the time," he answered. "I 
 used my best judgment. If one could foresee 
 the exact movements of the market for even a 
 week he could write his check with nine figures 
 in less than that time." 
 
 Yet I noted that he had been suddenly con 
 fused. Perhaps he had thought she would not 
 see those figures, written small at the bottom of 
 one of the tiny pages. 
 
 " But you will observe that Arizona Consoli 
 dated has gone above par," he added quickly, 
 with the apparent purpose'of soothing her fears 
 or lulling her suspicions. 
 
 "Yes," she admitted, "but I had only a few 
 dozen shares of that. And these other shares 
 Mr. Lane, I didn't instruct you to buy so many!"
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 Her face had become pale. 
 
 "I used my judgment, as you once told me 
 to," he urged blandly. "I also put a good deal 
 of my own money into them ; and while they are 
 down now, I'm confident they will catch the up 
 swing soon, and pay handsomely in the long 
 run. You will not regret their purchase, Mrs. 
 Randolph. But if you wish I can sell them. 
 My advice is against it, though." 
 
 His manner was again easy and natural. He 
 even had an elegant air, as of a man of leisure, 
 as he sat there, leaning back in his chair. 
 
 She took the book and looked over the 
 columns of small figures, pondering and men 
 tally calculating. I studied Lane, trying to 
 fathom the mind behind that smooth face. The 
 conviction that he was tricky, and that in his 
 position as agent and financial adviser he had 
 been trading on Mrs. Randolph's ignorance to 
 his own financial betterment, became a cer 
 tainty to me, when she said: 
 
 " But I didn't instruct you, Mr. Lane, to buy 
 any of these shares ! There was a heavy loss in 
 them two months ago, and I was assessed." 
 
 " For improvements substantial improve 
 ments," he explained. "When those improve 
 ments are completed the shares will quickly 
 double in value." 
 
 85
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 She puckered her brows in bewilderment. 
 So convinced was I now of his swindling that I 
 wanted to take him by the throat and hurl him 
 through the window. But had even a doubt 
 of him risen in the mind of Mrs. Randolph ? 
 I knew it had not when she looked at him, for 
 the one accusation which her look held con 
 cerned merely the wisdom of his financial judg 
 ments. His entire honesty she did not question. 
 
 She sat down, with the books L: her hands. 
 I saw his face harden in anticipation of some 
 thing. It came, in her next sentence; and I 
 knew it was one of the things they had discussed 
 before coming to me. 
 
 "And now about the power of attorney, Mr. 
 Lane ? I think it should terminate at once, 
 don't you, since the return of my husband ?" 
 
 It sent a thrill through me to have her say 
 "my husband," in that way, showing thus the 
 confidence of wifely love. And the culpability 
 of my position again overwhelmed me. 
 
 " It can be attended to, if you desire it," he 
 replied with bland courteousness. 
 
 "The smooth rascal intends to argue her out 
 of it later," thought I. 
 
 "I wish it," she said. "We will revoke the 
 power of attorney, and get this administration 
 matter wound up quietly. We can trust you to 
 
 86
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 do that, Mr. Lane ? You will know how to 
 manage it so that it can be kept from the news 
 papers ?" 
 
 "Readily enough, I think," he assented. "I 
 will soon adjust these matters to your satisfac 
 tion, Mrs. Randolph. To-morrow I shall be 
 busy with a case before the Superior Court. 
 But this shall be attended to, just as you 
 wish it." 
 
 "Will it take long?" 
 
 "Legal matters are proverbially slow," he 
 remarked quietly. "I will hurry it for you as 
 much as possible. If I can I will talk to the 
 Judge of Probate on the subject of the admin 
 istratorship early in the morning." 
 
 "But the power of attorney?" she persisted. 
 "That surely needs no delay?" 
 
 "Oh, as to that," he said, as if he really would 
 be glad to be well rid of it, "it can be done at 
 once." 
 
 "As soon as possible, then," she said, with 
 relief. "Draw up a revocation of the power 
 of attorney at once, please." 
 
 "Very well," he answered calmly; and he 
 rose to go. 
 
 He extended his hand to me. 
 
 "Mr. Randolph," he said, with stress of 
 emphasis on the name, "it is a pleasure to 
 
 87
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 know you, as it has long been a pleasure to me 
 to know your charming wife. I shall see you 
 again soon, no doubt. These matters will be 
 attended to satisfactorily at as early a date as 
 possible." 
 
 He released my hand and dropped the memo 
 randum and check books into his pocket. 
 
 "Your wife's summons was most unexpected, 
 but to-morrow, or at some early date, I shall be 
 pleased to make a full exhibit of all my financial 
 transactions undertaken in her behalf. I am 
 glad to see that you are looking so well, Mr. 
 Randolph." 
 
 "I hope we shall become better acquainted," 
 I answered, with covert meaning. 
 
 He backed toward the door; and went out 
 of the room, followed by Mrs. Randolph, and 
 again I heard them talking in low tones. Hot 
 indignation and impotent rage consumed me. 
 To compose myself I lighted a cigar, and began 
 to walk about the room, smoking furiously, but 
 stopped, as had become my custom, before that 
 window. 
 
 From it I saw him descend to the street, 
 where his automobile, which had been brought 
 round again, was purring gently, like a big 
 family cat; and I saw him leap in, give an order 
 to the chauffeur, and dash away. In that sur-
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 veillance, it seemed to me, I detected the hidden 
 nervousness and fright which he had so well 
 concealed in the library. I shook my fist at 
 him as the automobile swept him out of sight. 
 
 "Courtney Lane," I said, but without incau 
 tiously voicing the words, "I have seen through 
 your damnable treachery to the woman who is 
 trusting in you, and so sure as there is a God, 
 before I get through with you I will hurl you 
 out of that red automobile into the cell of a 
 prison, where you belong!" 
 
 My face was flushed and I was agitated when 
 Mrs. Randolph returned to the room. 
 
 "How long have you known Courtney 
 Lane?" I asked abruptly. 
 
 "Nearly two years," she answered. 
 
 "I don't think I am going to like him," I 
 declared. "I am glad you intend to revoke at 
 once that power of attorney. The sooner you 
 do it the better, in my opinion." 
 
 "Why, Julian, he is perfectly honest!" she 
 urged. 
 
 " I am not convinced of it," I told her. 
 
 " I thought I ought to revoke it at once," she 
 said, "since your return; and that is what I told 
 him, before we came in here to see you. I 
 didn't want to be precipitate, but I couldn't 
 wait."
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "And he was opposed to it ?" 
 
 "Only because he he thought it not wise 
 just now." 
 
 "Why not now ?" I insisted, almost forgetting 
 my own position in my glowing indignation 
 against Courtney Lane. 
 
 "Your strange disappearance, Julian; forgive 
 me for reminding you." 
 
 Her face flushed. 
 
 "I think I'll show you something," she said, 
 as if to change the subject. 
 
 She was gone but a minute, returning with a 
 sheaf of telegrams and letters, together with 
 copies of the morning papers. 
 
 "Since you've seen one of the papers," she 
 explained, thus acknowledging that the servant 
 of whom I had taken the morning paper had 
 told her of it. 
 
 She took a chair by me and began to display 
 the telegrams and letters. Many of them were 
 addressed to "Mr. Julian Randolph," the others 
 to her, and they were congratulatory. She had 
 opened all of them. The senders had read the 
 morning papers, and then had hurried these 
 messages of good will to Mrs. Randolph and 
 "her husband." 
 
 "This is from Sir Philip Cuthbert," she said, 
 taking up a large, square envelope and extract- 
 
 90
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 ing a note in big, boyish handwriting. "We 
 met him in England, you know, and he chances 
 now to be in New York, and is at the Wal 
 dorf." 
 
 I looked curiously at the upright handwriting 
 and at Sir Philip's sprawling signature. 
 
 "And this is from Mr. Wilson Spindrift, the 
 yachtsman. You sailed the Idler against his 
 Genesta once, off Marblehead, and you defeated 
 him." 
 
 I sailed the Idler! Ye gods ! 
 
 "And this," she opened a telegram, "is from 
 Mrs. Beale Florence Beale, you know the 
 mousie little woman with catty eyes and reddish 
 hair who tried so hard to break into society at 
 Newport that time. She is still at it, and hur 
 ried this to me. She is one of the 'Climbers.' 
 You never liked her, and I didn't. She threw 
 herself at Harold DeKoster, and then threat 
 ened to sue him for breach of promise. The 
 idea!" She laughed lightly. 
 
 "And here is a telegram from Joseph Still- 
 man, who is really a fine architect, but not at all 
 fashionable. He doesn't try to 'break in' any 
 where, with a jimmy or otherwise. We became 
 so well acquainted with him when he designed 
 and built 'The Poplars" 
 
 There were scores of them, and she went 
 
 91
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 through them all, while I read and listened in 
 wonder. My position was becoming every mo 
 ment more difficult. I thought of it as she read 
 and commented; thought of Courtney Lane and 
 the scoundrelism with which my imagination 
 clothed him; thought of plans by which I might 
 thwart him and save Mrs. Randolph from the 
 financial disaster I feared; and considered, too, 
 the possible blows he would deliver in return if 
 I stood my ground and dared to attack him. 
 My head buzzed with it all. 
 
 When she had gone through the telegrams 
 and letters she turned to the newspapers, and 
 together we looked them over, while I absorbed 
 from them information concerning Julian Ran 
 dolph. 
 
 "Some of these things are ridiculously pre 
 posterous," she declared. "I discharged two of 
 the servants this morning for talking to the re 
 porters. Much of it, you know, is out of whole 
 cloth there is not a shred of truth in it." 
 
 I didn't know, though she assumed that I did. 
 Yet from her criticisms of the news "stories" I 
 gained some knowledge of what to believe in 
 them and what not to believe. 
 
 "Isn't this jolly?" she cried suddenly, refer 
 ring to the joy she found in sitting by me and 
 talking these things over with me. 
 
 92
 
 INTRODUCES THE VILLAIN 
 
 Her blue eyes were bright with happiness. 
 
 Then she saw the shadow on my face. 
 
 "I know I distress you, Julian!" 
 
 "No," I urged, "it is not that." 
 
 "You'll be willing to see some of these people 
 soon?" she said, taking up some of the letters 
 and telegrams. She seemed chilled by my 
 apparent coldness. "They will expect it. And 
 I'm sure I shall enjoy it. I've been thinking of 
 a reception. Silly of me, you'll say." 
 
 Still I did not answer. How could I meet 
 these people ? I knew not one of them and 
 was glad that I did not. But they had known 
 Julian Randolph. How could I pass their 
 scrutiny ? Yet I had passed hers successfully, 
 and if I could deceive her I could deceive any 
 body. Mixed with these quick reflections was 
 thought of Courtney Lane. She needed some 
 one to protect her against him. 
 
 "My dear woman," I said, speaking out this 
 thought, "revoke Mr. Lane's power of attorney 
 at once without a day's delay." 
 
 "And that is how you answer my suggestion?" 
 
 "This is more important than a score of such 
 things." 
 
 " But you do not object ?" 
 
 " Oh, no no ! Really, whatever you do will 
 please me." 
 
 93
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Now that is like your old self!" 
 
 Before I could prevent it, or divined her 
 intention, she kissed me on the cheek. 
 
 " Julian," she cried with a sob of joy, " I am 
 so happy! I can't tell you how happy I am." 
 
 94
 
 IX 
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 FACES lie even more than words. If they 
 were given us to exhibit emotions, as words 
 to express thoughts, they have gone quite 
 as far astray from this original intention. To 
 shirt-waist from fig-leaf is not farther than to 
 the face-masking present from those primal 
 days when men barked uproariously their loves 
 and hates and with facial contortions wrote the 
 history of their changing sentiments. Let us 
 rejoice that this is so. Were it otherwise who 
 could stand complacently before his fellow men ? 
 The ability to make the face say what the 
 mind contradicts enabled me to live through, 
 and even to enjoy to a degree, the hours imme 
 diately following my determination to play to 
 the end my Comedy of Lies for the benefit of 
 Mrs. Randolph's finances. In this comedy I 
 foresaw Courtney Lane enacting the role of 
 Villain with a big V, and myself the Hero. 
 
 Yet I do think my intentions were genuinely 
 heroic, and I insist here on being credited to 
 that extent. For I thought to immolate my 
 
 95
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 love on the altar of service. He who can so 
 resolve, if no more, is, it seems to me, as worthy 
 of praise as that over-lauded individual who in 
 the hot and bloody excitement of battle rushes 
 with bayoneted rifle up to the snarling lips of 
 smoke-wreathed cannon. There are other ways 
 of committing suicide, and the motives may be 
 quite as fine. I knew I could not live if I now 
 lost Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 She had flowered forth like a new-made bride, 
 and began to revel in bewildering vanities of 
 dress. Hourly, while I was trying to plan my 
 battle lines and making believe that in strategy 
 I was an Oyama-Togo, she came to me to ex 
 hibit some "creation," with a distracting rust 
 ling and trailing of skirts, asking my opinion of 
 the pretty things, just as if I were a Parisian 
 man-milliner. 
 
 Whatever she wore she was the loveliest 
 woman under the sun, and many times I was 
 tempted into telling her so, when she walked 
 around and before me with such saucy and 
 happy piquancy, begging me with her sapphire 
 eyes to admire her. After each yielding I had 
 to lash myself anew with the cactus thongs. 
 Which gave me a novel view of the mediaeval 
 conscience administering self-punishment and 
 then hurrying gayly to sin again.
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 " Julian," she said with sly witchery in one of 
 these delightful moments, "I feel just as if I 
 were a girl again, in the salad days of our court 
 ship. You were too timid for anything, and 
 I just adored your shrinking timidity, and 
 wouldn't have had you otherwise for the world. 
 Now, look at me!" (She shook her finger at 
 me saucily, as if I were a Boston terrier that 
 she was trying to teach tricks !) " Don't you 
 think this dress the most becoming of all ?" 
 
 "It is," I admitted. "The one you are wear 
 ing is always the prettiest of all." 
 
 "Where did you learn that flattery ? But you 
 always were a flatterer. I think you were born 
 in Ireland, close by the Blarney Stone. I won 
 der you haven't a brogue. Now, I'll show you 
 what I'm to wear at the reception." 
 
 She tripped away, laughing back at me from 
 the doorway, where she made a pretty picture. 
 And then she ran daintily through the connect 
 ing room into her own apartments, where her 
 maid awaited her. 
 
 When she returned I gasped at her loveliness. 
 She was in evening dress, of pure white, relieved 
 only by a red rose. Her shoulders and arms 
 were matchless, her slender figure willowy with 
 grace, her shining brown hair done in a bewil 
 dering coil which my masculine pencil refuses 
 
 97
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 to attempt to describe. I could not restrain my 
 pride in her, and my rapture. 
 
 "You are simply divine!" I cried, with the 
 enthusiasm of high emotion, f 
 
 "Do you like it ?" 
 
 She turned slowly round and round that I 
 might view her charms from every point. 
 
 "Like it ? You are adorable." 
 
 "Why don't you say the rest ?" 
 
 "The rest?" 
 
 "Use my name, I mean. Why don't you 
 say, 'You are adorable, Kitty?' That is, if 
 you think so." 
 
 "I do think so." 
 
 "'Kitty,'" she added. 
 
 "Kitty Randolph, you are the loveliest, the 
 most beautiful woman I ever saw." 
 
 She reddened like a debutante, for she saw 
 that I meant it. 
 
 Miss Hansborough rendered Mrs. Randolph 
 valuable assistance in all this. The nut-brown 
 maid had not only "a flashing eye to love," but 
 a simply-practical mind. Her pulse was rhyth 
 mically cool. I was sure she played golf with 
 precision and lack of bubbling inefficiency, even 
 before I was told so. Such a woman would be 
 sure to tee her golf ball and drive it with calm 
 ness of nerve and clarity of vision.
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 "Sister mine," she would say, speaking 
 through the fish-weir of pins that filled her 
 mouth, "your hair must come down a little; it 
 is entirely too high." 
 
 To me at the moment Mrs. Randolph's hair 
 could not have been bettered. But when the 
 change had been made I knew that the nut- 
 brown maid was right. 
 
 "Sister mine," she would say again, half 
 closing her brown eyes while standing back to 
 look, "that skirt is a trifle short behind." 
 
 It was perfect, I thought; this particular skirt 
 belonging to an outing dress that revealed dainty 
 boots and the trimmest of ankles. But again 
 when the skirt came down I was forced to 
 admire Miss Hansborough's judgment. 
 
 But when the nut-brown maid turned to me 
 (Mrs. Randolph was out of the room) and said, 
 "Julian, are you afraid of the reporters?" I 
 was too startled to admire her. 
 
 "They are likely to be annoying," I stam 
 mered. 
 
 "Very true," she admitted, "but it strikes 
 me that the way to disarm them is to show them 
 that there is no powder in their pistols." 
 
 Mrs. Randolph came in, with the suggested 
 change made in her dress, and Miss Hans- 
 borough went no further. 
 
 99
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 That evening, however, when Jerome came 
 to me, I learned why she had made that start 
 ling declaration. Jerome was usually as silent 
 of voice as of foot unless I questioned him and 
 set him to talking, when he could become as 
 garrulous as any New England spinster over 
 her tea-cups. I questioned him that evening, 
 and he told me of a reporter's attempt to get to 
 see me and his hint that I was not Julian Ran 
 dolph. 
 
 "The rascal came into the kitchen, sir, in the 
 disguise of a servant girl; and he had got into 
 the long hall that leads to the dining room, 
 when I stopped him." 
 
 His white face had flushed to a pale-rose 
 color at the recollection. 
 
 "Here, Miss,' I said, politely enough, for I 
 thought him a woman, * where are you going ?' 
 
 :< To see the missus/ he said, and ducked me 
 a curtsey. 
 
 " I told him if he had any word for Mrs. Ran 
 dolph I would see that it reached her. Then 
 he tried to get by me. 
 
 "Stop!' I said, and put out my hand to 
 detain him. 
 
 "When, in pushing against the wall and 
 ducking to get by me, his wig came off, and fell 
 to the floor, I was that speechless, sir, he might 
 
 100
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 have gone on, only he was as confused as I was 
 myself. He had short, curly, black hair; and 
 for the first time I noticed the blue tint of his 
 close-shaved beard under the flour dust he had 
 rubbed on his chin in the cook room. 
 
 "Here, you rascal!' I said, taking hold of 
 him as he stooped to get his wig. Then he 
 stood up boldly, seeing he was discovered, and 
 laughed at me. 
 
 "Let up!' he said, for I had gripped him 
 tight. 
 
 "What does this mean ?' I asked. 
 "He put his hand in the pocket of his dress 
 and brought out a twenty-dollar bill. 
 
 "Do you like the looks of that?' he asked. 
 The brazenness of the wretch took away my 
 breath, sir. 'There are four more of these 
 an even hundred round simoleons if you'll 
 let me go up to the rooms of Mr. Randolph. 
 Say it quick, and I'll run right along, and no 
 one shall ever know you had a hand in it. I'm 
 the representative of the Evening Moon.' He 
 took out his card as proof. 
 
 "When I said, 'No!' he tried to bribe me into 
 telling him something about you. He said his 
 paper had received a 'tip' from a reliable source 
 that you were not Julian Randolph, and they 
 wanted to know about it. For that reason he 
 
 101
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 had got into the house as a servant girl. And 
 he said he would double the sum offered, make 
 it two hundred dollars, if I would give him 
 information on that point, or would let him go 
 to your rooms to see you. What he expected 
 to do, sir, if he saw you, I don't know. But I 
 marched him out of the hall, and then calling 
 the butler we turned him out of the house." 
 
 While telling this Jerome so far forgot him 
 self that he waved his hands dramatically, while 
 the rosy pink of his face deepened and faded 
 and then deepened again with the tremendous 
 excitement of his adventure. And withal, as I 
 learned later from other sources, he told the 
 story quietly enough and without self-exploita 
 tion; for it seems the young masquerader had 
 fairly fought to get back into the hall and up 
 the stairs, when he found his offered bribes were 
 in vain and that he was about to be bundled 
 into the street. 
 
 A renewed sense of the dangers of my situa 
 tion was thus impressed upon me. Behind the 
 attempt I saw the hand of Courtney Lane. He 
 suspected me and had communicated his sus 
 picions to this newspaper. 
 
 The more I thought about it the more Miss 
 Hansborough's suggestion that I was afraid of 
 the reporters startled me. I feared she had 
 
 102
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 seen through my pretensions, or suspected me. 
 For I had ceased to declare that I was not 
 Julian Randolph, believing if I was to aid Mrs. 
 Randolph I must maintain her faith in me as 
 her husband. Otherwise, I feared I could do 
 nothing. 
 
 O 
 
 In one way my task was ridiculously easy. 
 When I stumbled, or was in danger of stum 
 bling, Julian Randolph's eccentricity was the 
 staff on which I leaned. Whatever I did or 
 failed in doing could be credited to my lost 
 memory and to my inherent capacity for doing 
 a thing as no one else ever did it before or was 
 likely to do it afterwards. 
 
 Lane had not returned to the house, as he 
 had promised, nor had he hastened to draw a 
 revocation of that power of attorney. The 
 time-consuming demands of certain business 
 before the Superior Court was his first excuse. 
 Then I learned he had left the city, after send 
 ing to Mrs. Randolph a note stating that an 
 important matter had called him away sud 
 denly. I knew what that important matter 
 was he had gone to Philadelphia. 
 
 But while he was trying in Philadelphia to 
 get a line on my past I was scanning our prob 
 able battlefield and preparing for him as well 
 as I could ; and was getting a wonderful amount 
 
 103
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 of happiness out of my new position, in spite 
 of a condemning conscience and anticipatory 
 sufferings. 
 
 So the evening came, in which I was to meet 
 some of the people who had written and wired 
 their congratulations. 
 
 That afternoon the Evening Moon had sensa 
 tion "scare-heads" above a half-column of 
 guesswork which it probably denominated a 
 "beat." Though the name of Julian Randolph 
 did not appear, all who had read of his "re 
 turn" would know what was meant. 
 
 "You do not believe any of that stuff?" I 
 said, when we had gone through the slurring 
 questions and broad hints of "mystery" lying 
 behind that "return." 
 
 Mrs. Randolph looked at me with frightened 
 eyes. I confess it was a foolish question, when 
 the part I was enacting is considered. 
 
 "Julian," she said, "don't be silly!" 
 
 " Can we go through the ordeal to-night, after 
 this ?" I said, looking at the offensive news 
 paper. 
 
 "Very easily," she said, with sweet serenity. 
 
 Yet I confess to a great dread when the 
 ordeal came. 
 
 The affair was supposed to be quite informal; 
 which only meant that, though they could not 
 
 104
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 be wholly omitted, there was to be as little as 
 possible of the fuss and feathers of fashionable 
 society. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph wore that distracting dress of 
 pure white, with the contrasting red rose as the 
 only color. The brilliance of her complexion, 
 the heavenly blue of her eyes, the glory of her 
 shining brown hair, drew such attention that I 
 was quite jealous. Miss Hansborough, her 
 evening dress displaying dazzling shoulders, 
 helped us to "receive." 
 
 We stood just within the entrance to what 
 Mrs. Randolph called "our garden," a large 
 glassed-in space filled with palms and flowers, 
 with a fountain splashing in the centre, and an 
 orchestra hidden behind the palms playing 
 popular airs and Strauss waltzes. Brilliant 
 lights flooded the "garden," making it light as 
 day. 
 
 The whole gave me a sense of the wealth of 
 Mrs. Randolph which hitherto I had not felt. 
 She had been so girlish, so natural, so un 
 affected and affectionate, that the fact of her 
 wealth had not been impressed on me thor 
 oughly, in spite of the richness of the brown- 
 stone mansion, the retinue of servants, my 
 valet, and those indications of Courtney Lane's 
 piratical attempt. 
 
 105
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I recall that in their reports the next morning 
 the newspapers spoke of the "distinguished 
 company." There were many names honored 
 in two hemispheres, as one of the papers stated. 
 How I bore myself under the strain of meeting 
 these people, many of whom I was supposed to 
 know, puzzles me still; but I met them, sup 
 ported by Mrs. Randolph and her sister. 
 
 Occasionally there was an introduction, as 
 
 " Mr. Sturtevant, let me make you acquainted 
 with my husband." 
 
 And Mr. Sturtevant, a high-shouldered, eye- 
 glassed man, who looked to be a literary burner 
 of midnight oil, but who was really a Wall 
 Street banker, murmured my name, mentioned 
 casually the state of the weather, openly flat 
 tered Mrs. Randolph on her appearance, and, 
 crowded by others, drifted on. 
 
 Later in the evening I came near getting a 
 "cropper." The dancing was in progress and 
 Mrs. Randolph had been torn from my side by 
 Sir Philip Cuthbert, who would not be denied. 
 It was then that John Denton, whom all New 
 York knows as a "society favorite" and a "first 
 nighter," remarked with a laugh as he squeezed 
 my hand, finding me for the moment alone: 
 
 "You recall what you told me at the Bach 
 elors' Club the day before you were married ?" 
 
 106
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 He beamed amiably. 
 
 I didn't remember it, of course, and I had to 
 say so. 
 
 "Harry Tremaine was with us. Recall it 
 now ?" 
 
 "No," I said, in desperation. 
 
 Denton looked hard at me as he stirred his 
 glass. 
 
 "Oh, well, if you've forgotten it!" he said, 
 with a harsh laugh. "It was only a few thou 
 sand that I hold your IOU for as a result of that 
 poker game. You went abroad, I understood, 
 and I've heard nothing of it since. But if you 
 want to repudiate it " 
 
 He drank his wine. 
 
 "I have no such intention," I declared, un 
 comfortably hot. "I had simply forgot it." 
 
 His manner was arctic as he walked away. 
 
 Near the close, when many had gone and the 
 hour was late, or, rather, early, I being again 
 alone for a few moments, Jerome came by me, 
 brushing my shoulder quite as if by accident, 
 to attract my attention. 
 
 "At the farther end of the garden, near the 
 door," he whispered. "It's Courtney Lane, 
 with that reporter. And I know that the reporter 
 was not invited." 
 
 His communication startled me. I looked, 
 
 107
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 and saw Lane and a slim, dark young man, 
 with eyeglasses perched on his thin nose, com 
 ing toward me. 
 
 "How the reporter got in I don't know," said 
 Jerome; "but he shall he thrown out, sir, if you 
 give the word." 
 
 Mrs. Randolph, dancing with Harold De- 
 Koster, floated by me. Her azure eyes were 
 shining, her cheeks like pink peonies; her diaph 
 anous white draperies half revealed and half 
 concealed her loveliness. My eyes followed her 
 with anxious longing. Behind her came Miss 
 Hansborough and her escort; but my eyes were 
 for Mrs. Randolph alone. Lucky dog De- 
 Koster! Something choked in my throat when 
 I saw her smile up into his face. And it made 
 my sight blur strangely. For the moment I 
 forgot Courtney Lane and the reporter who 
 were making their way slowly toward me. Mrs. 
 Randolph did not see Lane, I observed. 
 
 Then he stood before me, the reporter just in 
 his rear cocking an ear forward. Lane fixed 
 on me his eyes of steely blue. The reporter 
 looked away, as if not listening. 
 
 "Could I have a word with you, Mr. Ran 
 dolph?" 
 
 Again there was that queer emphasis on the 
 name. 
 
 108
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 I hesitated; then answered, boldly and defi 
 antly : 
 
 "A dozen of them, if you like." 
 
 "Can we go somewhere?" he asked, glancing 
 about. 
 
 "There is a room over there," I said, nodding 
 toward the palms. "We can go in there, if you 
 have anything of importance to say to me." 
 
 "I consider it important," he declared. 
 
 I stepped round the palms, and moved toward 
 the small room that lay behind them. Some of 
 the guests came out as we approached and left 
 it empty. The reporter followed Lane, with 
 out invitation; and I saw Jerome hovering be 
 hind, looking solicitously at me, as if begging 
 permission to do something desperate. His 
 usually white face was again a rosy pink. 
 
 Lane slid into a chair by the table. 
 
 "Bring the gentleman some whiskey and 
 soda," I said to the waiter who had followed us 
 in. "Or do you prefer a cocktail?" I added, 
 looking at Lane coldly. 
 
 "The whiskey and soda, please," he said, 
 carelessly. 
 
 He half veiled his cold eyes, as he looked at me. 
 
 "A Martini cocktail," I said to the waiter. 
 
 The pulsing music of the orchestra over 
 flowed into this quiet retreat in drowsy ca- 
 
 109
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 dences. Just beyond the door stood the 
 reporter, staring at the dancers with his black 
 eyes, yet with his elephantine ears turned in our 
 direction, I knew; and not far from him Jerome 
 still hovered uneasily. I smiled, and returned 
 Lane's look with one of contempt and defiance. 
 
 The whiskey and soda and Martini cocktail 
 were brought. 
 
 "That is all," I said to the waiter. 
 
 The automaton vanished. 
 
 "Now what is it ?" I demanded of Lane. 
 
 The cocktail and the whiskey and soda stood 
 untouched before us. My face was red enough 
 without the stimulus of drink. Lane was still 
 calm and collected. 
 
 "Just this," he said, leaning toward me, with 
 one firm white hand on the table. "I have 
 been to Philadelphia!" 
 
 no
 
 X 
 
 COURTNEY LANE THREATENS 
 
 "T HAVE been to Philadelphia!" Lane re 
 peated, boring me with his steel-blue eyes. 
 I laughed harshly and defiantly. 
 
 "I guessed as much." 
 
 "You know what I have discovered ?" 
 
 "/ have discovered that you are a fool and a 
 meddler!" I flashed at him. 
 
 "I have discovered that your mysterious 
 absence from your chair as instructor in physics 
 at the Gilbert Porter Institute is causing more 
 than a mild sensation!" 
 
 "It is pleasant to be remembered, after we 
 have departed," I murmured, clinking my 
 fingers against my glass until the cherry in the 
 liquor danced and sparkled. 
 
 "Is that all you have to say about it ?" 
 
 "What should I say ?" I asked sweetly. 
 
 "If I go to Mrs. Randolph with this you know 
 what will happen!" 
 
 "I'm sure I do not," I declared. "Pray 
 enlighten me." 
 
 "Well, you are not Julian Randolph!" 
 
 Ill
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "No?" I cried. I sipped my cocktail to 
 cover any possible confusion, though I believed 
 I now had my nerves well under control. " Dear 
 me! Who, then, am I ?" 
 
 "You are Louis Armitage." 
 
 "This is interesting," I observed, and I wrote 
 the initials on the table with the wet foot of the 
 glass. 
 
 "You know that I can land you in jail for 
 this deception," he said, his low voice trembling. 
 
 "I am surprised that you do not then." 
 
 I waved my hand toward the listening re 
 porter. 
 
 "You did well to bring with you that repre 
 sentative of the Evening Sewer. I expected you 
 would feel at home in the company of his kind. 
 I've noticed, when travelling in the South and 
 West, that buzzards often fly in pairs." 
 
 His face flushed. 
 
 "You defy me?" he said, in that same low 
 tone, while the flush seemed to creep from his 
 face into his cold eyes and lend them a sudden 
 flame. 
 
 I laughed, leaning back in my chair. 
 
 "Lane," I said, "I have seen through you 
 from the first, and " 
 
 "And I through you!" he cried, forgetting 
 himself and lifting his voice. 
 
 112
 
 COURTNEY LANE THREATENS 
 
 Your imagination quite equals your au 
 dacity, and your dishonesty.'* 
 
 " Dishonesty ? What do you mean by that ?" 
 
 "I hardly think you need to ask." I low 
 ered my voice as a hint to him to lower his. 
 " And now you are exhibiting yourself as a first- 
 class specimen of the genus Fool. I was never 
 in that school you speak of in my life." 
 
 He gulped his astonishment. 
 
 "But but," he stammered, "you confessed 
 it yourself, in the presence of Mrs. Randolph." 
 
 " I was then simply answering a Fool accord 
 ing to his folly." 
 
 "You deny it?" 
 
 He half rose from the table, to sink back 
 trembling. 
 
 " If it is necessary for me to take the trouble 
 to deny it, I deny it; yes." 
 
 "Then I'll produce the proofs," he threat 
 ened. "I'll expose you I'll publish you to 
 the world. I'll brand you for what you are; 
 and I'll" 
 
 "Lane," I said, "for Heaven's sake, don't 
 shriek! Tell that scoundrelly reporter whatever 
 you want to, at another time you'll do that, 
 any way; so that I don't see why you should 
 have bothered to sneak him in here; but remem 
 ber Mrs. Randolph and her guests." 
 
 "3
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "I'll publish you to the world, and I'll have 
 you arrested for the impostor that you are!" 
 
 " If you undertake anything so foolish, Lane, 
 it will simply hasten my exposure of you, and 
 you will have a long time to think it over and 
 regret it behind the walls of Sing Sing." 
 
 Again I sipped my cocktail and smiled. Mrs. 
 Randolph could confuse me and bring my heart 
 into my throat by a word or a look; but with a 
 man, and a man whom I hated, it was different; 
 and having prepared my battle lines I at the 
 moment felt that I could defy Courtney Lane. 
 
 " Let me tell you what I know," I said, speak 
 ing with growing boldness. "And I should be 
 glad if that long-eared reporter would put this 
 in his paper; his readers would find it interest 
 ing. He would be able to say that Courtney 
 Lane, acting as the business agent of Mrs. 
 Julian Randolph, whom he had deceived into 
 thinking him an honorable gentleman, had been 
 swindling her from the moment he became her 
 legal adviser and financial agent until now. 
 He would also be able to say that after Court 
 ney Lane had been requested by her to prepare 
 a revocation of the power of attorney he held 
 and had wilfully neglected and refused to do 
 so, she had revoked it, without consulting him 
 further; and that steps are being taken looking 
 
 114
 
 COURTNEY LANE THREATENS 
 
 to his arrest on charges of embezzlement and 
 the criminal diversion of her funds." 
 
 Twice Lane tried to interrupt me, and I saw 
 the fire in the hard blue eyes die out and the 
 face show a trace of pallor. He seemed to 
 shrivel behind that immaculate shirt front. 
 
 "The power of attorney has not been re 
 voked!" he protested. 
 
 "It is to be," I claimed, "and the other things 
 will follow the moment you open your mud bat 
 teries on me and try to bespatter me through 
 the columns of the sensational press. Your re 
 porter is listening to this; let him put it down." 
 
 "My financial dealings with Mrs. Randolph 
 have been strictly honorable!" he sputtered. 
 
 "You will have a chance to prove that, if you 
 go farther on the line you have chosen. So, 
 take warning! I am Julian Randolph; and 
 only the fact that you are an invited guest here, 
 though an unwelcome one, and that I do not 
 want a scene, keeps me from kicking you 
 through that door, and having you ejected 
 from the house, together with your elephant- 
 eared friend, whom you dishonorably smuggled 
 in." 
 
 "You threaten me?" he said. His eyes held 
 a gleam of fury. 
 
 "I defy you!" 
 
 "5
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Jerome had bustled to the door. 
 
 "Something I can do, sir?" he asked, poking 
 his pink face into the room and staring hard at 
 Lane. 
 
 "Thank you, nothing, Jerome," I said, rising 
 from the table. 
 
 Lane got to his feet unsteadily. 
 
 "I'll see you again!" he said. 
 
 The words were low and the tone a threat. 
 
 He left the room and hurried away, and the 
 reporter followed him. I was well pleased with 
 the courageous front I had shown, and its re 
 sult. Jerome was still filled with resentment. 
 
 "That reporter ought to have been invited to 
 leave," he protested. 
 
 The company was breaking up, and I has 
 tened to place myself beside Mrs. Randolph, to 
 receive the parting words of our guests. 
 
 116
 
 POWDER IN MY PISTOL 
 
 I LOOKED at Jerome, wondering if I could 
 use him, in a matter that promised to be 
 peculiarly delicate. He might have the will 
 ingness, but did he possess the requisite tact 
 and discretion ? 
 
 His nose was almost patrician; yet he was a 
 servant to the tips of his white fingers. We 
 have not many of his class native to this coun 
 try. Your true American is like one of Napo 
 leon's soldiers, in that he believes he carries the 
 baton of a Field Marshal in his knapsack. It 
 is this that has made us the Nation we are. 
 Ambition is a good thing; and it is well to hitch 
 your wagon to a star, if you have the wagon. I 
 decided that I could not trust the matter to 
 Jerome. Something more than the subservient 
 willingness of a servant was needed. 
 
 Finding, to my delight, that Mrs. Randolph 
 had gone out, I determined to undertake the 
 thing myself, and sent Jerome away. The next 
 few minutes I spent in studying the directories, 
 and kept the telephone wires hot. Then I sat 
 
 117
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 down in a flutter of guilty excitement, like the 
 small boy who is planning so slip past the 
 parental eye and play with those horrid McGin- 
 nis children in the neighboring alley. 
 
 When I thought I had waited long enough I 
 tiptoed down-stairs, my breath coming fast as 
 I did so. The auto-car I had summoned from 
 the garage was there. I could have shouted 
 when I beheld it. The chauffeur put his fingers 
 to his cap in salutation, as I ran down the steps. 
 No reporters were roosting on the carved, 
 bronze railings. I leaped lightly in, taking a 
 seat beside him. 
 
 "Broadway!" I said; "move her along!" I 
 dared not look back. 
 
 The chauffeur "moved her along" so quickly 
 that we were a hundred feet from the house and 
 gathering speed before I observed that he was 
 not the man I had expected. More than once 
 while looking through the windows of the library 
 I had seen Mrs. Randolph's chauffeur. 
 
 " Hello ! " I said, staring at him. " How is this ? 
 You are not Mrs. Randolph's chauffeur." 
 
 He looked straight ahead. I was sure Mrs. 
 Randolph's chauffeur was smooth-faced and 
 younger; this man wore a moustache, and had 
 eyeglasses under his disfiguring and disguising 
 goggles. 
 
 118
 
 POWDER IN MY PISTOL 
 
 "I am your chauffeur," he answered, giving 
 the steering wheel a turn and sending the au 
 tomobile round an interfering carnage. "You 
 didn't know that?" 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "Come!" I cried; "this won't do! I don't 
 know you, and I won't go any farther. Stop 
 the auto!" 
 
 I caught him by the arm. 
 
 "Listen," he said, but without taking his eyes 
 off the road before him. " I am not Mrs. Ran 
 dolph's chauffeur, nor yours. I'm a represent 
 ative of the Mirror. I couldn't get at you in 
 any other way. The chauffeur isn't in it, and 
 isn't to blame. Don't you want to make a state 
 ment to the public ? There are some curious 
 rumors afloat. You ought to correct them. If 
 you have enemies who are lying about you, why 
 let them do all the talking ? Do you catch on ?" 
 
 I had dropped back against the cushions, 
 breathless. 
 
 "What are the rumors ?" I asked. 
 
 "That you are not the man you pretend to 
 be not Julian Randolph. Hadn't we better 
 take this cross street it's not so crowded 
 and talk it over ?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "turn that way. This is 
 startling. What else is being reported ?" 
 
 119
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 The automobile crossed Broadway and 
 headed toward the North River. 
 
 "The statement carries its corollary, that you 
 are a deliberate impostor. But I have heard 
 it hinted also that you are a madman." 
 
 He glanced at me. 
 
 "Is it your belief that I am a madman?" I 
 asked. 
 
 He grinned, with a twitching of his reddish 
 moustache. 
 
 "You don't look it." 
 
 "Then I am either Julian Randolph, or a 
 pretender?" 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 "Who is saying these things about me?" 
 
 "They are in the air." 
 
 "Come!" I urged. "If they are in the air, 
 somebody's putty-blower put them there. Who 
 is he?" 
 
 " If I should say I know, and tell you, I might 
 find myself in a sling," was his cautious answer. 
 
 I thought a moment before I answered, while 
 the auto-car swung with a lurch round a group 
 of heedless children. 
 
 "Unless you tell me that I shall tell you 
 nothing." 
 
 " It has been hinted," he said, still cautiously, 
 "that these stories come from the office of 
 
 120
 
 POWDER IN MY PISTOL 
 
 Courtney Lane, Mrs. Randolph's financial rep 
 resentative. Mind you, I don't say that this is 
 so; I don't know anything about it. I only 
 heard a rumor buzzing about like a bottle-fly 
 over a bit of putridity. As a newspaper scav 
 enger, serving up odorous morsels to a stench- 
 loving public, I was under compulsion to follow 
 the scented trail of the bottle-fly. Perhaps my 
 ears and my nose deceived me. In any event, 
 to change the metaphor, I am merely a siphon 
 connecting the dear public with its sources of 
 information, and as such I have neither thoughts 
 nor feelings. I perform my mission, and that 
 is all." 
 
 He grinned again, with another twitching 
 and lifting of the reddish moustache. 
 
 "What is Courtney Lane going to do about 
 it ?" I asked, trying to hide the start his words 
 had given me. 
 
 "Ah!" he said, "I wish I knew. It would 
 be good for two columns." 
 
 While the automobile moved slowly on I 
 thought at railroad speed. Why should I not 
 make a statement to the public ? The flings 
 and innuendoes of the Evening Moon had gone 
 unanswered by me. The Mirror was the more 
 reputable paper. Still, was it wise to recur to 
 the matter at all ? 
 
 121
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "If I should make a statement you would 
 publish it just as it was given to you ?" 
 
 "Surely." 
 
 "You may set down then," I said deliber 
 ately, "that I am Julian Randolph, who after 
 an extended absence is home again, attending 
 to business. You may add it is hinted that a 
 certain person who aspires to be a prominent 
 figure in the financial world, and who took 
 advantage of my absence to enrich himself at 
 my expense, is now on the verge of criminal 
 prosecution. Evidence is being gathered which 
 will expose his criminality and send him to 
 prison. As soon as certain investigations are 
 completed the arrest is to follow." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "It is enough," I said. 
 
 "But about your absence, and your mysteri 
 ous return ?" 
 
 "There was nothing mysterious connected 
 with either." 
 
 "I can say that?" 
 
 "Yes, if you like." 
 
 "Would you mind stating where you were 
 while away ?" 
 
 "That is not the affair of the public!" 
 
 " But the public has curiosity." 
 
 "Morbid curiosity. If it must have some- 
 
 122
 
 POWDER IN MY PISTOL 
 
 thing, say that I was hunting lions in Africa 
 and looking for one of the mysterious sources 
 of Lake Tchad." 
 
 He grinned again. 
 
 "You'll let me embellish the hunting part? 
 I suppose you found that source of Lake 
 Tchad." 
 
 "As many sources of Lake Tchad, and as 
 much hunting, as you like." 
 
 He stopped the auto-car and began to turn it 
 about. 
 
 "What now?" I asked. 
 
 "I'm going to take you to that garage over 
 there. I want to get this into the Mirror this 
 afternoon. You'll excuse me, I know; I've 
 barely time to do it." 
 
 In front of the garage he pulled off his 
 goggles, and leaped out. I saw his eyes behind 
 their crystal-clear glasses, light brown in color, 
 clear as the glasses themselves. He smiled, 
 with that characteristic lifting of his moustache, 
 and extended his hand, standing beside the 
 right forward wheel, with one foot on the curb. 
 
 "I'm obliged to you, Mr. Randolph," he said 
 warmlv. "I'll treat you fair. See the next edi 
 tion of the Mirror. And I don't mind saying to 
 you now that for this other fellow, Lane, I have 
 no earthly use. My reason goes back some 
 
 123
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 months, and I haven't time to tell it. But he 
 threw me down bit of speculation, you know; 
 little flyer in Wall Street. Yes, he threw me 
 down hard. So I was doubly anxious to see 
 you and get your side of the story." 
 
 He withdrew his hand, and the next moment 
 was running to catch a train of the Elevated, 
 which was coming into view far up the street. 
 
 "Even a siphon has feelings after all, it 
 seems," I thought, as I watched him. And I 
 was pleased with myself, and with what I had 
 done. 
 
 124
 
 XII 
 
 ASBURY RAND 
 
 I LEFT the automobile at the garage, with 
 instructions as to where it was to be sent. 
 I was free now to go whithersoever I willed, 
 and I willed to carry out the idea which had 
 sent me forth into the busy streets. Less than 
 half an hour later I was in a big Broadway 
 building and an elevator was shooting me sky 
 ward with frantic New York speed. 
 
 I got out at the tenth floor, and soon found 
 the room I sought. On the door was this office 
 card: 
 
 ASBURY RAND 
 PRIVATE DETECTIVE 
 
 I knocked and was admitted. 
 
 Mr. Rand sat alone, pondering by a window, 
 smoking a thick, black cigar. The office boy 
 who admitted me had vanished, like the imp 
 of the magician; I hardly knew where he had 
 gone. But I was prepared for strange disap 
 pearances, secret doors, sliding panels, human 
 
 125
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 eyes staring from the eyes of the pictures on the 
 walls; if upon my entrance Mr. Rand's chair 
 had dropped him through the floor I was ready 
 not to be too much astonished. For was not 
 this a detective's office, and had I not read 
 Sherlock Holmes, and Gaboriau, and Edgar 
 Allan Poe ? But Mr. Rand sat quietly in his 
 chair, and the pieces of office furniture seemed 
 not disposed to turn somersaults and stand 
 upon their several heads. 
 
 In another minute I was telling my story (so 
 much of it as I wished to tell), lying my way 
 through with the perspiring courage of a ma 
 chete wielder in a tropical jungle. To better his 
 hearing, he laid his cigar on the window ledge. 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said at intervals, as I plunged 
 on. 
 
 "You will take up chis case ?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, certainly; glad to do so." 
 
 "And you'll find the proof I want that 
 Courtney Lane has been swindling Mrs. Ran 
 dolph; that is, if such proof is to be had, of 
 which I am confident?" 
 
 "Assuredly. If there are such proofs we'll 
 get them." 
 
 He rubbed his palms together and beamed on 
 me when I was through. It was his turn to ask 
 questions and mine to give answers. 
 
 126
 
 ASBURY RAND 
 
 "When will you begin?" I queried, after he 
 had ceased to question me. 
 
 "To-day at once." 
 
 I thought of my limp pocketbook, and feared 
 he would ask a retainer, but he did not. 
 
 To prove that he valued the commission I 
 intrusted to him he touched a bell. A quick 
 young man jerked into the room he seemed 
 to come out of the wall; but there was a door 
 which I had not observed, and I had no doubt 
 he had been behind that door listening. How 
 ever, this heightened my opinion of the detec 
 tive abilities of Mr. Asbury Rand. I looked at 
 the door to ascertain if any little peep-holes 
 were bored in it, but saw none. 
 
 "Jarvis," said Rand, giving him a pencilled 
 slip of paper, "take this to Jones, and tell him 
 I must see him at once on a case of importance. 
 If he is on anything just now, tell him to turn 
 it over to Haney." 
 
 The young man jerked out of the room, van 
 ishing through that door. 
 
 "Jones is my most reliable man," Rand ex 
 plained. "I'll put him on this case immediately." 
 
 As I left Rand's office, I reflected with in 
 creasing confidence that I had started the 
 wheels of the Juggernaut car that would 
 eventually crush Courtney Lane. 
 
 127
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Mrs. Randolph was still out when I got back, 
 but I encountered Miss Hansborough. Fault 
 lessly attired, the nut-brown maid had just 
 come in from the street. She looked at me in 
 a strange way, apparently aware that I had been 
 absent from the house. 
 
 "I have taken your advice," I said. "I have 
 shown the reporters that there is no powder in 
 their pistols but that there is in mine!" 
 
 She stared an instant, then recalled her words 
 and comprehended. 
 
 "Tell me about it." 
 
 Her brown eyes smiled invitingly, and she 
 moved toward the sitting room. 
 
 "What have you done, you reckless boy ?" she 
 demanded when we were in the room together. 
 
 "You know what you advised ?" 
 
 "Yes, I remember something." 
 
 "I did just that. You read that slanderous 
 report in the Evening Moon. Courtney Lane 
 inspired it. I have just denied it, to a reporter 
 of the Mirror; and have said, in addition, that 
 investigations are being made which will lead 
 to the arrest of a certain man who has been mis 
 applying my funds in my absence. Courtney 
 Lane will know who that man is." 
 
 Miss Hansborough was a girl not easily 
 startled, but she was startled now. 
 
 128
 
 ASBURY RAND 
 
 "Why, Julian!" she protested. "Don't you 
 think that was rather er unwise ? Mr. 
 Lane has done nothing out of the way, really. 
 Kitty and I are under many obligations to him. 
 I hope you didn't mention his name?" 
 
 "His name will not appear in the Mirror" I 
 assured her. 
 
 "Oh, I hope not!" 
 
 "You don't believe Lane has been swindling 
 your sister and you ?" 
 
 "Certainly not. The idea is preposterous." 
 
 In vain I tried to show her that it was any 
 thing but preposterous. 
 
 When Mrs. Randolph arrived, she bore a 
 copy of the Mirror, and had seen that "inter 
 view." Her face was flushed to a deep pink. 
 I felt guilty when I saw her with that news 
 paper in her hand. Yet I still could admire her 
 beauty, for in the light gray street dress she 
 wore she was very attractive, in spite of that 
 flush. 
 
 "Julian," she said, having come straight into 
 the sitting room, where I still lingered with Miss 
 Hansborough, "did you say these things to a 
 reporter?" 
 
 She could not believe I had said anything of 
 the kind, and expected me to deny it. 
 
 "Yes," I admitted, "I made those state- 
 
 129
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 ments; that is, I suppose I did. Let me see 
 what is there." 
 
 The reporter had been fair; the interview, 
 though much elaborated, had my main points 
 unchanged. The lion hunting and the Lake 
 Tchad explorations were fine bits of romancing. 
 
 "Oh, well!" (she laughed, and threw the 
 offending Mirror into a chair,) "I thought it had 
 been made up out of whole cloth, by the re 
 porter." 
 
 Her blue eyes met the brown eyes of her 
 sister with an understanding glance. (I knew 
 they would talk the whole thing over together 
 later.) And she changed the subject. 
 
 Another side of her character was revealed to 
 me. Out of the nebulous blur of impressions, 
 of which at first her piquant beauty and her 
 sapphire eyes had been all predominant, I was 
 gaining other glimpses; I was beginning to 
 know her, and yet was made to feel that I could 
 never know her completely. Now she was the 
 philosopher. She was able to accept me and 
 all my supposed foibles with that rare compla 
 cency which is the peculiar possession of a 
 philosophical nature and can never be acquired. 
 
 130
 
 XIII 
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 HARVARD had played Princeton, at Prince 
 ton; and Benson, on the way back to Cam 
 bridge, had stopped off between trains, 
 in New York, with the permission of his captain. 
 He came at my request to my rooms, where I 
 sought vainly for a good beginning for what 
 I wanted to say. It is sometimes easier to open 
 a jack-pot or a can of clams than it is to open a 
 conversation. 
 
 "Can't you stay in New York a few hours 
 longer?" I begged at length. "I need you." 
 
 He gave me a sharp look. 
 
 "I have had a talk with Courtney Lane," I 
 went on, bluntly; "a talk which he sought, with 
 a newspaper man standing by; and he threat 
 ened me." 
 
 "Threatened you ?" 
 
 His gray eyes widened in astonishment. 
 
 I detailed what had been said by Lane at the 
 reception, in the light in which I wished him to 
 see it. I could not tell him what I really feared 
 and believed; that would have been to confess
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 that I was not Julian Randolph. My story 
 amazed him, of course. 
 
 "You observe the position I'm in ?" 
 
 "Yes, I see," he admitted. "But he'd never 
 dare do it." 
 
 "Lane is enriching himself at her expense," 
 I declared, "and I want you to get proof of it 
 for me. Find out who his brokers are, and 
 you'll be striking the right trail." 
 
 He heard me through almost incredulously. 
 
 "I'd be willing to do anything possible to 
 accommodate you," he declared; and then he 
 began to explain. 
 
 It was that confounded ball game between 
 Harvard and Yale, and the rigid training rules, 
 which it seems are like the laws of the Medes 
 and Persians. 
 
 "I'm here on sufferance, you know, and for a 
 very short time only. A man on the team and 
 in training has to stay right with the team, and 
 eat at the training table, and all that; otherwise 
 he is dropped. So, you see!" 
 
 "But," I urged, "you can get this informa 
 tion for me without much delay. Perhaps you 
 know some one in New York, connected with 
 the Stock Exchange, to whom you can go ?" 
 
 He thought a moment. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I do know such a man; an 
 
 132
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 old friend of our family. It's after office hours, 
 but I can probably see him at his home. I'll 
 do that much for you, and run the risk." 
 
 Shortly after Benson's hurried departure in 
 search of information, I encountered Mrs. Ran 
 dolph. Her face was so bright, so hopeful, so 
 happy that, if anything could have done so, a 
 look into it would have quite driven away my 
 uneasy fears. 
 
 "Julian," she announced, "I've had the 
 Idler put in commission, and she is now in the 
 East River, with a captain and full crew. 
 The orders were given immediately after Doc 
 tor Thompson called on you, though I didn't 
 tell you then. It seems to me I can't wait to 
 try her." 
 
 My heart gave a bound. 
 
 "We'll go aboard at once," I cried, with pre 
 tended gayety, "and we'll sail the seas over. 
 We'll be Jasons, and hunt for the Golden Fleece 
 of happiness." 
 
 "It is here," she said simply. 
 
 Yet her azure eyes clouded a little. Fore 
 boding still lurked in some corner of her loving 
 heart. 
 
 "Yes, I'm sure it is," I agreed. 
 
 She beamed on me. I was getting better 
 rapidly, was her thought; I was ready to take
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 this second part of Doctor Thompson's pre 
 scription, even though I had thrown his medi 
 cine out of the window. 
 
 Oh, the love and confidence of women; and 
 the despicable deceit of men! What would men 
 do if it were not for this love and confidence ? 
 They would do worse than "Hottentot," and 
 in an incredibly short space of time. I feel 
 sure that Robinson Crusoe must have been a 
 miserable specimen, in spite of the glamour 
 thrown round him by the cunning pen of his 
 biographer. Men just couldn't stand it. 
 
 Benson returned without information. But 
 almost at the same moment a sealed note from 
 my detective startled me. It stated that Lane 
 was about to move to have me examined by alien 
 ists for supposed insanity, with the purpose of 
 committing me to a sanitarium. Thus he had 
 met my thrust and struck back with staggering 
 promptness. 
 
 I saw that he could trap me, and would do 
 so. My proofs of his financial iniquity had not 
 been gathered. I did not fear the alienists so 
 much as I feared what might be disclosed 
 that I was not Julian Randolph. Yet with the 
 alienists there was no telling what might 
 happen. Men and women have been impris 
 oned for supposed mental afflictions who were 
 
 "34
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 saner than the stupid doctors who examined 
 them or the arrogant judges who pronounced 
 them mentally unsound. 
 
 At dinner Benson tried to be gay, and made 
 a failure of it. I saw that there was trouble 
 between him and Miss Hansborough. I didn't 
 know it until long afterward, but the coolness 
 observable was occasioned by some considera 
 tions concerning myself. Benson intensely and 
 loyally desired to return at once to Harvard; 
 Miss Hansborough and her sister had what they 
 assumed to be potent reasons why he should not, 
 even though his failure to do so might wrench 
 or break his relations with the Harvard nine. 
 He was remaining, grimly and under protest, 
 fearing the crash of the Harvard guillotine. A 
 man will do many things for the woman he 
 loves, but unless he does them with abounding 
 cheerfulness that woman is likely to under 
 value his sacrifices. 
 
 Though I am sure Benson didn't know 
 whether he ate clams or oysters, Miss Hans- 
 borough affected not to notice it. Her smile 
 was serene and enigmatical; her talk was far 
 away, about somebody in Newport, and a cer 
 tain dance at Bar Harbor and what the women 
 wore. She appeared to be properly interested 
 as she recalled these things, but certainly no 
 
 135
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 one else was. I am convinced that my own 
 manners were hopelessly funereal. Mrs. Ran 
 dolph struggled vainly with the burden thus 
 imposed on her. 
 
 But under this cloud of gloom, having reached 
 my decision, I was laying my plans. There is 
 an old saw, and it needs no new teeth, which 
 says that discretion is the better part of valor. 
 I was resolved to be discreet, and run away. I 
 found my opportunity when Mrs. Randolph 
 spoke again of the Idler. 
 
 "Why can't we get ready for a short voyage 
 at once ?" I urged. 
 
 I feared all would see the eager flame in my 
 face. 
 
 "It would do you good," she agreed. "Doc 
 tor Thompson" (blessings on his gray head! I 
 resolved never to belittle him again) "urged it, 
 you know. We could take Jack to Boston." 
 
 "We might run up to Newport," said Miss 
 Hansborough sweetly. 
 
 But she did not look at Benson. If he went 
 to the Sahara, and rode camels, was nothing to 
 her, apparently. How can so charming a girl 
 do such things ? It puzzles me. Benson was 
 a fine fellow. 
 
 "Just the thing!" I cried. "We'll go to 
 Newport." 
 
 136
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 I was determined, once we were under way, 
 that we would go much farther in the Idler 
 than Newport. 
 
 "Jack could take the train there for Cam 
 bridge," Miss Hansborough added, sticking the 
 knife under his fifth rib as coolly as an Italian 
 duellist. "He has been so anxious to get back 
 to Harvard, you know. It would be almost 
 as quick as going by train to-morrow from 
 here." 
 
 "That's true enough," I agreed. 
 
 I would have agreed to anything that led my 
 way. Benson glanced at me reproachfully. 
 But, Heavens, it was not I who was trying to 
 destroy his happiness! 
 
 Mrs. Randolph's spirits had risen percep 
 tibly; and we all pretended to be much inter 
 ested, and very happy. So we spent the evening 
 talking of the Idler, of Newport, and possible 
 destinations. Such conversation is not difficult, 
 and I got through it easily. 
 
 When Benson, though he had remained so 
 much longer than he felt he ought, hurried to 
 his hotel, it was with the intention of sending 
 a telegram to Cambridge, and remaining in 
 New York until some time the next day. 
 
 But in the morning he received a message 
 that was like a slap in the face. It was from 
 
 137
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 his captain, informing him curtly that he could 
 stay in New York as much as he liked, as he 
 no longer had a place on the nine. 
 
 This bit of news, startling in its unexpected 
 ness (though it ought to have been anticipated), 
 we did not receive at the house until Benson, 
 distressed and shaken, arrived with it himself. 
 
 We had been discussing this awhile, when I 
 chanced to pass into the hall, and saw there 
 the servant who had delivered to me surrep 
 titiously that note of warning from Asbury 
 Rand. He beckoned, and I was sure he had 
 another note from my shrewd detective. I was 
 correct in this. He placed it in my hand, and 
 chuckled slyly as I paid him for this act of 
 treachery to his mistress. The note repeated 
 and confirmed the statement that Courtney Lane 
 was on the point of taking steps to have me 
 examined by alienists. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph came upon me while I was 
 reading this. 
 
 "Something for me to see?" she asked, 
 searching my pale face. 
 
 "No!" I answered hoarsely. "It is nothing; 
 nothing!" 
 
 But I was now in a panic, and ready for 
 instant flight. 
 
 The message from Benson's captain caused 
 
 138
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 a readjustment of our plans, in spite of my 
 protests. The impossibility of sailing until the 
 next day was brought forward, and backed with 
 proofs. With a continually-increasing uneasi 
 ness, which Mrs. Randolph must have noticed, 
 I was forced to surrender. 
 
 One thing I observed, and failed to under 
 stand. Benson, who had been for rushing to 
 Cambridge in the hope of mending matters for 
 himself there, ceased to speak of it with anxiety, 
 after a talk with Miss Hansborough. 
 
 With the next morning, though I arose early 
 and tried to hurry the start, vexatious delays 
 came. There was much telephoning on the 
 part of Mrs. Randolph and Miss Hansborough. 
 In the midst of this, word came that the yacht 
 needed more coal. 
 
 I found time to call up Asbury Rand and 
 urge him to haste and diligence; I desired, if 
 cornered, to have some bomb of evidence to 
 hurl at the head of Courtney Lane. Rand 
 declared that his man Jones was pushing the 
 investigation with all speed, and promised to 
 report discoveries as soon as they were made. 
 I said nothing to him of my intention of imme 
 diately leaving New York. 
 
 My impatience grew feverish as the noon 
 hour came and went. Bundles and boxes were 
 
 139
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 pouring in from everywhere, and pouring out 
 again down to the Idler. 
 
 It was four o'clock, and I was standing by 
 the library windows, having taken my position 
 there two hours before in anticipation of the 
 coming of an officer to arrest me, when Mrs. 
 Randolph, arrayed in a gray travelling dress, 
 entered, flushed, but triumphant. She and 
 Jerome had been assisting the distracted maid. 
 
 "Thank Heaven, that last trunk is packed!" 
 
 "How long do we have to wait yet ?" I asked, 
 with an ear trained on the street entrance. 
 
 "We are almost ready now, dear." 
 
 Jerome came in, hurried, yet deferential. 
 
 "Shall I have the chauffeur bring the auto 
 round again ?" he asked of her. 
 
 "Yes, Jerome," she answered; "we're almost 
 ready now. Margaret" (to the nut-brown maid 
 who swished past the door), "you're ready now, 
 aren't you ?" 
 
 "In just a minute," came back the answer. 
 
 "Jerome" (this from Mrs. Randolph), 
 " phone to the wharf and see if that coal is all 
 on board. Tell them we're coming now." 
 
 A few minutes later the big touring car 
 stormed up to the curb. Yet it was nearly five 
 o'clock when we entered it. 
 
 "Let her go!" I said to the chauffeur as soon 
 
 140
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 as we were seated. I couldn't resist the slang; 
 I wanted to fly, for in every man approaching I 
 fancied I saw an officer. My anxiety was so 
 apparent that it made Mrs. Randolph anxious 
 for me, and she was ready to abet me in my 
 desire for haste. 
 
 We shot away from the house and down the 
 avenue with such speed that soon I was anxious 
 in another direction lest we should be in 
 trouble for over-speeding. 
 
 When the river burst on our vision, with all 
 the water craft ferry-boats, tugs, yachts 
 more than half of them, it seemed to me, 
 screeching whistles, and I beheld the shining 
 white hull of the Idler (Mrs. Randolph pointed 
 her out to me), I did not try to hide my 
 delight. 
 
 "Oh, this is great!" 
 
 I waved my hat. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph's eyes glistened. 
 
 "Do you like it?" 
 
 "Like it?" (In that moment I forgave her 
 and her sister for all our trying delays.) "It is 
 indescribably beautiful." 
 
 "You always enjoyed our little trips on the 
 Idler." 
 
 "This will be the most enjoyable of all," I 
 declared. 
 
 141
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 At the wharf a boat awaited us, manned by 
 bronzed, seaman-like fellows in white duck, 
 their oars up-ended. A little coxswain stood 
 in the stern-sheets touching his cap. 
 
 Miss Hansborough was about to let herself 
 be handed down first into the boat, but stopped, 
 hesitating and coloring. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" she cried, biting her lip in vexa 
 tion. "After all, I've forgotten that jacket ! " (She 
 looked at Mrs. Randolph.) " Lizette, or Jerome, 
 or some one, will just have to go back for it." 
 
 I had held in a long time, and here was more 
 delay; the red of vexation showed in my face. 
 Mrs. Randolph saw it and suggested the shops 
 of Newport. But no, Miss Hansborough must 
 have that jacket; none other would do. So 
 Jerome, who was already aboard the yacht, had 
 to be brought ashore, and posted back to the 
 house in a cab. 
 
 As we were rowed out to the Idler I watched 
 the receding shore with apprehension. 
 
 "She is a dream!" I said, as a wave lifted the 
 yacht and showed the sea-green paint below 
 the water line. But I was thinking of Court 
 ney Lane and possible officers. 
 
 The beauty and spaciousness of the Idler 
 astonished and gratified me. I did not spend 
 much time in looking about, however, but 
 
 142
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 watched the shore and the river. The auto-car 
 had been run upon a float and was being towed 
 out, to be hoisted aboard. This was trouble 
 some and consumed time. 
 
 Jack Benson arrived and joined Miss Hans- 
 borough. Though I knew he was anxious and 
 disquieted, he hid it well. They came where I 
 stood with Mrs. Randolph and with us looked 
 over the rail. With the exception of our little 
 group every one was hurrying. None guessed 
 of course my burning impatience; they hurried 
 because they had been ordered to do so. Yet 
 to me even this haste was snail-like. There is 
 no harder task than to smile and talk of incon 
 sequential things at such a time. 
 
 The big Mercedes had been hoisted aboard, 
 lashed, and covered with canvas, on the for 
 ward deck, before Jerome appeared. He was 
 running as soon as he left his cab, and when 
 he did not find a yacht's boat awaiting him he 
 jumped into a disreputable shell that had been 
 clinging like a brown barnacle to the wharf, 
 and was rowed off to the Idler in that. I had a 
 feeling that his haste was portentous, and I was 
 first to meet him at the Idler s rail, giving him 
 my hand to assist him aboard. His face was 
 flushed. 
 
 "What is it, Jerome ?" I said. 
 
 H3
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "I didn't just understand it," he answered in 
 an undertone; "but before I left the house an 
 officer came with papers for you, sir. He was 
 put out because you were gone and the house 
 was being closed. He asked questions, and 
 demanded to know where you were. I lied to 
 him, sir I said I didn't know. But I think 
 he followed me." 
 
 I pressed his hand. 
 
 " Keep still about don't mention it to any 
 one; I don't understand it, myself." 
 
 He glanced over his shoulder. 
 
 O 
 
 "I I thought he meant to arrest you, sir." 
 
 "I've done nothing to warrant arrest," I said. 
 
 "No, sir; of course not, sir; but " 
 
 "No more now, Jerome," I warned, for the 
 women were advancing. 
 
 I turned, to meet Mrs. Randolph's pleased 
 smile. Behind them some distance behind 
 trailed Jack Benson, trying to take a proper 
 interest in New York's wonderful water-front, 
 as viewed from the East River. 
 
 Miss Hansborough took from Jerome the 
 bundle which represented her jacket. 
 
 "We're ready to start, I believe," I said. 
 
 "You're the commander now, Julian," said 
 Mrs. Randolph. "Here comes the captain for 
 his orders." 
 
 144
 
 THE JOINT IN MY ARMOR 
 
 Captain John Quinby, sunburnt and nauti 
 cal, came up, lifting his white cap. 
 
 "We want to get under way at once, Cap 
 tain," I said. "It's late" (I looked at my 
 watch). "We'd like to be well out before 
 night." 
 
 Though my commands lacked the nautical 
 salt they were comprehensible. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he answered, again touching his 
 cap. The declining sun glinted on its gold 
 braid. 
 
 According to what I recalled of all I had read 
 he should have said, "Aye, aye, sir!" in a thick, 
 foggy, groggy voice, and hitched his trousers; 
 but he didn't. Nor did he cast his weather 
 eye at the clouds. But he put the Idler under 
 way at once, which was the thing I wanted; 
 and we were soon steaming down the East 
 River. 
 
 Bedloe's Island was ahead, on the port bow, 
 and the Brooklyn bridge was spider-webbing 
 the stream behind, when I observed that a tug 
 had shot out into the river and was following 
 hard after us. Benson was standing with me 
 on the after deck; Mrs. Randolph and Miss 
 Hansborough had just left my side. The cap 
 tain came up to me, touching his cap respect 
 fully. 
 
 145
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "She is following us, Mr. Randolph," he 
 announced, waving his hand significantly. 
 "She signalled just now, and wants to speak to 
 us. Shall we let her come alongside?" 
 
 Then the flag I had noticed before fluttered 
 and dipped again and a rocket flashed into the 
 evening sky. 
 
 I knew well what it meant. Courtney Lane 
 had discovered that I was trying to give him 
 the slip, and he was resolved to prevent it.
 
 XIV 
 
 PURSUED 
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH had come on deck 
 again, clad in cool blue linen, that 
 was wonderfully becoming. She carried 
 her yachting cap in her hand, and the breeze 
 blew her brown hair about her eyes. Behind 
 her, head and shoulders emerging from below, 
 came the nut-brown maid in summery white. 
 Jack Benson regarded the white vision hun 
 grily. 
 
 Having called my attention to the pursuing 
 tug and its signals, Captain Quinby waited for 
 me to speak. I was sure the tug meant to 
 overhaul us before we got out to sea, and that 
 on her decks was not only the officer who had 
 failed to find me at the house in Fifth Avenue, 
 but Courtney Lane as well. Lane's daring and 
 persistence amazed and angered me. 
 
 I answered Captain Quinby's question by 
 requesting the use of the marine glasses he car 
 ried in his hand. Then I scanned the deck of 
 the tug, which lay low in the water like a great 
 turtle. The smoke from her funnel obscured
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 her deck, but I saw a group of three men, one 
 of whom I was sure was Lane. 
 
 "Benson," I said quietly, "see if you can get 
 the women to go below." 
 
 He hesitated, glancing at the girl in white, 
 who had emerged full length above the com 
 panion-way. 
 
 "At least," I added desperately, "draw their 
 attention from that tug!" 
 
 But the mischief was done; they had already 
 seen the tug. 
 
 "Why, it seems to be following us!" I heard 
 Miss Hansborough say in a tone of surprise. 
 
 I had not answered the captain. 
 
 "Ahead at full speed!" I ordered. 
 
 He stared. 
 
 "Not going to answer their signal ?" 
 
 "No!" My tone was sharp. "I shall ignore 
 them. Ahead, at full speed." 
 
 Benson was standing in awkward uncer 
 tainty, his hands in the pockets of his gray 
 flannel outing coat. His face looked troubled. 
 He had not started toward the women. I 
 moved toward them myself now. 
 
 "Why is that tug following us ?" Mrs. Ran 
 dolph asked. 
 
 I took her arm and walked with her toward 
 the rail. 
 
 148
 
 PURSUED 
 
 "You recall that letter you saw me reading ?" 
 I said. "I didn't show it to you, but will later. 
 There is a man in New York who has threat 
 ened to arrest me. He has chartered that tug 
 I am sure, and is trying to overhaul the yacht. 
 I don't intend to let him." 
 
 She looked straight into my eyes, startled, 
 and her face paled. A strand of hair blew into 
 her face and she brushed it away. 
 
 "You are sure ?" she said, as if dazed. 
 
 "Quite sure." 
 
 "But I don't understand it; I don't " 
 
 " I will explain it later. Just now I intend not 
 to be taken. You are willing to trust me a little?" 
 
 I thought she hesitated, but when she an 
 swered her words were all that I could desire. 
 
 "Trust you, Julian ? I would trust you with 
 my life." 
 
 Yet it seemed lip-service; she still looked 
 startled and doubtful, and she had grown very 
 pale. As for myself I was filled with self-con 
 tempt, yet was desperately resolved to have my 
 way. 
 
 I laughed to dispel her fears, and saw that 
 my manner and that false laugh alarmed her. 
 She looked at me steadily, and pushed back the 
 hair that the persistent wind tumbled into her 
 eyes. Then she stared at the tug. 
 
 149
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Kitty," I said, using the tone of endear 
 ment, "all I ask is that for a little while you 
 will trust me. I know just what I am doing; I 
 am not crazy, nor in danger of it. But I don't 
 intend that tug shall overhaul the Idler, if I can 
 help it." 
 
 Benson had joined Miss Hansborough, for 
 which I thanked him, and was saying some 
 thing to her in low tones. The captain had 
 gone away, to jangle signals to the engine 
 room. The yacht's funnel began to pour out a 
 cloud of smoke as dense as that from the tug, 
 and she was already increasing her speed. 
 
 I studied the face of Mrs. Randolph while 
 she looked at the tug. It was troubled and 
 uncertain. At length she turned to me. 
 
 "If only I understood the situation better?" 
 
 "It is Courtney Lane," I confessed. "You 
 saw the interview I gave to the Mirror. I know 
 he has been swindling you, and I said as much 
 in that interview. He understood it; and this 
 is how he hits back. He sent an officer to the 
 house while Jerome was there; it is his inten 
 tion to have me thrown into a sanitarium as a 
 madman, or placed under arrest as an impostor. 
 I don't intend to give him the opportunity." 
 
 She clutched the rail with a spasmodic grip. 
 I laid my hand gently on her shoulder; and a 
 
 '5
 
 PURSUED 
 
 flame of love and tenderness ran through me 
 as I felt its warmth through the cool -looking 
 blue linen and saw the rounded throat and the 
 sudden heaving of her bosom. 
 
 "Julian, you are mistaken!" she said. 
 
 "Look at me!" I urged. 
 
 She looked her blue eyes big and bright. 
 The pallor was leaving her face and hectic 
 spots glowed in her cheeks. 
 
 "Do I look like a madman? I am as sane 
 as you are; as sane as Miss Hansborough, 
 or Jack Benson. I know what I know. It 
 startles you, yet it is true. If that tug over 
 hauls us you will know also that it is true. I 
 can defeat Courtney Lane, and fully expect and 
 intend to. But now I should be placed at such 
 a disadvantage that my case might be rendered 
 hopeless. I am not at present ready, and he is 
 trying to take advantage of my unreadiness. A 
 week from now, even to-morrow perhaps, I shall 
 be ready for whatever he attempts; and then I 
 shall defy him, and overwhelm him." 
 
 We were well down toward Staten Island, 
 and were already beginning to feel the swell of 
 the more open water beyond. The breeze had 
 quickened and was cool and salt. The plung 
 ing yacht cut into the waves and threw up a 
 spray that glittered in the light of the dying sun.
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I studied the face of the woman who stood 
 troubled and perplexed beside me. She stead 
 ied herself, clinging to the rail as the Idler rolled 
 under us, and returned my look with as much 
 composure as she could command. 
 
 "I think you must be mistaken, Julian," she 
 insisted, with pathetic gentleness. "That tug 
 may not be following us at all; but if it is it 
 must be because of some customs regulation 
 we have violated. Still, if you do not wish it 
 to overhaul us it is not for me to say that it 
 shall." 
 
 As she looked again at the tug she saw a 
 rocket signal. 
 
 "I think I will speak to the captain." 
 
 "I have no objection to that," I said, "but I 
 have already told him we are not to lie to for 
 the tug, and that it is not to be permitted to 
 approach us. He is obeying my orders." 
 
 I pointed to the vomiting smoke of our funnel, 
 which lay now in a thick smudge behind us on 
 the water. 
 
 "I think I'd like to speak with him," she 
 urged. 
 
 He was at the port rail aft; and leaving me 
 abruptly she went toward him, the wind whip 
 ping her blue skirts about her and tugging at 
 her hair. 
 
 152
 
 PURSUED 
 
 Having talked with the captain, while I 
 watched them furtively and at the same time 
 watched the tug, she came back, struggling 
 against the breeze. 
 
 "It is all right, Julian. The captain is not 
 sure the tug is following us, or that those signals 
 were for us, though he thought so at first. At 
 any rate, we are going to ignore it and keep 
 right on. Does that please you, my frightened 
 boy?" 
 
 Wan as her smile was it made her cheeks 
 dimple. She still carried in her right hand her 
 yachting cap; with her left she held her flutter 
 ing skirts. Her tumbled hair was blown into 
 her eyes, a bewitching net that enmeshed my 
 heart. Her laugh rippled out with something 
 of recklessness, as she added: 
 
 "It's just like the things one reads about; 
 only such things always occurred ever so many 
 years ago. A gallant vessel flying along, the 
 waves rolling, night coming down, and behind, 
 a low, black demon of a vessel in pursuit. But 
 it ought to be sails, instead of steam; and a 
 long, rakish, piratical craft with tapering 
 masts, and half-naked sailors, with knives in 
 their mouths, pulling at the ropes. I think that 
 must be Treasure Island over there, don't 
 
 you ? ' 
 
 153
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Kitty," I cried, "you are an angel!" 
 
 "Just a silly girl, that loves her husband," 
 she answered. 
 
 "Even if he is a fool!" 
 
 "Whatever he is, Julian." 
 
 "You think I'm frightened, of course ?" 
 
 "I'm not thinking; I'm trying to imagine how 
 it feels to be chased by pirates." 
 
 "It pumps the blood through one's veins!" 
 
 "Aye, Sir Commander, it does; I feel mine 
 tingling." 
 
 I was too anxious to laugh with her. 
 
 The captain came up to us. 
 
 "A good bit of wind," he said. 
 
 "A capful, you mean, Captain," Mrs. Ran 
 dolph corrected, determined to be gay. 
 
 Quinby laughed. 
 
 "Aye, aye; a capful!" 
 
 "We're holding our own with the tug, Cap 
 tain ?" I asked. 
 
 "She's not gaining any now, and we're gath 
 ering speed. We can show her a clean pair of 
 heels if we want to." 
 
 "We have chosen to want to, Captain. If 
 they're really trying to overhaul us it is an 
 impertinence." 
 
 "Very true, sir," he said; but his tone was 
 noncommittal. 
 
 154
 
 PURSUED 
 
 We stood together, watching the tug, the white- 
 capped waves, the vessels here and there, with 
 glances seaward. Jack Benson and Miss Hans- 
 borough had strolled round until they were to 
 gether by the lashed automobile. Benson was 
 leaning against the white canvas; and Miss Hans- 
 borough's white dress seemed to melt into that 
 white canvas and become a part of it. They, too, 
 were watching the tug, and talking about it. 
 
 "You are doing well, Captain Quinby," I 
 said, as he started to move away. 
 
 "The best I can, sir." 
 
 The tug was falling behind. Powerful as she 
 was, the Idler was the better racing machine. 
 It seemed to me the yacht was going through 
 the water now like a torpedo boat. The rough 
 ening sea and the speed with which she sheared 
 into the waves soon sent a drenching spray over 
 the bows, wetting the canvased auto-car and 
 driving Miss Hansborough and Jack Benson 
 from their position. They came back to where 
 we stood, laughing, Miss Hansborough clutch 
 ing her white skirts, with Benson holding to his 
 hat and steadying her now and then as the 
 yacht dipped and rolled. 
 
 "This is great!" he cried, clinging to her arm. 
 
 "Yes ?" I said, with a meaning glance at his 
 hand. 
 
 155
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 He flushed, and the nut-brown maid looked 
 conscious. 
 
 "I mean the speed at which we're going," I 
 corrected. 
 
 "The Idler ought to be entered for some of 
 the international races," he said. "She'd make 
 some of those boats look like thirty cents." 
 
 "We're dropping the tug fast," said Miss 
 Hansborough. 
 
 Dense banks of clouds had descended in the 
 west, apparently conjured there by the smoke 
 from the tug. They were wrapping the tug now, 
 and seemed part of the smudge that fussy little 
 craft had created. The lights, the islands, even 
 the near-by vessels, were being lost in the dark 
 ness of those clouds and in the coming night. 
 
 The darkness thickened, and the tug could 
 no longer be seen. Night was at hand. The 
 wind was brisker; the sea rougher; and a flood 
 of water came tumbling and hissing at inter 
 vals over the bows. The cover of the auto 
 car dripped with brine. Everything forward 
 seemed half afloat. And still we fled, plung 
 ing, lifting, staggering on, at racing speed. 
 
 "I think it would be wise to go below," I 
 said to Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 I had seen her shiver in the chill of the night 
 air.
 
 PURSUED 
 
 "You don't intend to keep up this speed 
 long?" she asked, anxiously. 
 
 I beckoned to the captain. 
 
 "Captain," I said, "you may let up a bit on 
 this; the tug is out of sight, and there is no 
 longer need of such speed." 
 
 "Yes, sir!" he said; then added: "but it's 
 been a pretty race." 
 
 He walked away, and the engines were put 
 at a slower pace. 
 
 But the seas still came tumbling in on the 
 forward deck and raced in lines of hissing white 
 past the rail, while the milky wake lengthened 
 back into the increasing darkness like a blurred 
 white highway. 
 
 "Come, Margaret," said Mrs. Randolph, 
 "we'll be nothing but mermaids if we stay here. 
 You will come too, Jack ?" 
 
 We walked from the rail together; but I 
 stopped at the companion-way, with a make- 
 believe afterthought. 
 
 "I'll be with you in a minute, after I've had 
 a word with Captain Quinby." 
 
 "I'm going to show our lights now," said 
 Quinby, as I joined him. "We might be into 
 something before we know it." 
 
 "Very true," I admitted. "Which way are 
 we heading?" 
 
 157
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Nor'east by east." 
 
 "We shall not go to Newport at present, 
 Captain," I remarked. 
 
 "No?" he said, astonished. "Mrs. Ran 
 dolph told me we were to go to Newport, by 
 the sea route." 
 
 "Captain," I said, "I have my own good and 
 sufficient reasons for whatever I do, peculiar 
 though they may seem to you. The men who 
 followed me in that tug doubtless know that we 
 are going to Newport. They will look for me 
 there; but I'll fool them. Why they are seek 
 ing me is neither here nor there; sufficient to 
 say, I've done nothing criminal. You recog 
 nize me as the owner and commander of this 
 yacht?" 
 
 "Certainly, sir." 
 
 He lifted his white, gold-braided cap. 
 
 "Then steam farther out to sea than would 
 be necessary if we were going only to Newport. 
 Keep out of the Sound altogether. We're going 
 round Martha's Vineyard and beyond Boston 
 Light at least. Just where we're to make our 
 landing I haven't settled yet in my own mind. 
 I'll talk with Mrs. Randolph about it first. But 
 we are not going to Newport this trip." 
 
 I really wanted to head the Idler to the south 
 ward, in search of southern waters, knowing I
 
 PURSUED 
 
 should not be looked for in that direction, but 
 I was hardly ready for that yet. I felt that I 
 might do it before morning. 
 
 When I went below I found that dinner was 
 being prepared. Mrs. Randolph and her sister 
 were in their staterooms. I had entirely for 
 gotten that man lives by bread; I had dined 
 and supped to the full of excitement, and felt 
 the need of nothing else. Benson was curled 
 lazily in a steamer chair. Miss Hansborough 
 had been more gracious, and as a consequence 
 for him the skies were again blue and the birds 
 of love singing. If he could have forgotten 
 Harvard he would have been quite happy and 
 contented. 
 
 "I'll take the train for Cambridge as soon 
 as we hit Newport," he said. "Maybe I can 
 even yet patch up that matter and stay on the 
 team." 
 
 "If you shouldn't be able to take that train ?" 
 I asked, as I dropped into a chair beside him. 
 
 He sat up straighter and gave me a sharp 
 look. 
 
 "Oh, I was only joking," I said, "to see how 
 you would take it!" 
 
 "By George," he exclaimed, "you gave me 
 a start! You're going to run to Newport ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, we'll go to Newport, all right." 
 
 159
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I did not say when. 
 
 Jerome came to me, immaculate, soft-footed, 
 soft-voiced. 
 
 "Everything is ready, sir," he announced, 
 and his eyes searched my face. 
 
 I went with him, to prepare for dinner. I 
 was willing to go, for I wanted time to think. 
 My head was filled with plans and felt as hot 
 as an overworked auto-axle. 
 
 By the time dinner was served the yacht was 
 not pitching so much. Captain Quinby dined 
 with us, and that made it easier for me, for the 
 conversation was repressed along certain lines 
 because of his presence. 
 
 He was a broad-shouldered fellow of the 
 rather jovial type, and had an Irish face. He 
 told stories with much gusto yachting stories 
 chiefly, for he had been in command of a num 
 ber of yachts. He took pride, too, in the deft 
 ness with which he could break an egg; and I 
 recall that he said the braid on his cap was 
 useful, to keep him from being thought merely 
 one of the crew, and his suggestion that some 
 thing of the kind ought to be designed for a 
 gentleman's evening dress to keep him from 
 being mistaken for one of the waiters. He 
 laughed with much good humor, and at times 
 showed a nimble Irish wit. And he had sense 
 
 1 60
 
 PURSUED 
 
 and discretion; not once did he refer to the 
 thing that was in the mind of each of us. 
 
 After dinner I again went on deck, excusing 
 myself to Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 "Nothing more of that confounded tug?" I 
 asked of the captain. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ! " with confidence. " I don't doubt 
 she is crawling back to New York City long ago." 
 
 "Then, of course, she can't pick us up in the 
 morning ?" 
 
 "Not a chance of it, sir." 
 
 I studied the sky, but I was no mariner. Off 
 on the port bow the green and red lights of a 
 vessel dipped and winked, and on the starboard 
 quarter there were rows of shining lights, which 
 I had observed as soon as I came on deck. 
 
 "One of the European mail steamers," he 
 said. "She's moving along." 
 
 I went below again. Mrs. Randolph, re 
 solved to show no uneasiness over my seeming 
 eccentricities, had seated herself in the little 
 cabin at a table, with Benson and her sister, 
 and had cards in her hands. 
 
 "We're just waiting for you," she said. 
 
 I was not pleased; yet play would eat up 
 some of the time that threatened to hang with 
 unpleasant and even dangerous superfluousness 
 on my hands. 
 
 161
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 It was midnight when I went on deck again. 
 The captain was still there, and I engaged him 
 in conversation. For an hour we talked and 
 smoked, burning my best cigars. 
 
 "If not Newport, where ?" he asked at last. 
 
 "This is a yacht, Captain, and a yacht is a 
 pleasure boat. We will roam about, and go to 
 Newport by and by. Just now think of High 
 land Light, off Truro, on the Cape, as your 
 destination. When we get there I'll give you 
 further orders." 
 
 "Sealed orders, sir, or near that." 
 
 He laughed as if amused. 
 
 "You've had the like before ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir; more than once. I've changed 
 courses as much as half a dozen times in a 
 single day." 
 
 "I suppose the owner was drunk at the 
 time?" 
 
 He laughed again, and threw the stub of his 
 cigar over the rail. 
 
 "I didn't say so, sir." 
 
 I talked to the captain as long as I could find 
 anything to say. And when there seemed no 
 more to talk about I strolled the deck, watching 
 the yeasty waves hiss past the rail in the dark 
 ness. 
 
 162
 
 XV 
 
 "WAS EVER WOMAN IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED ?" 
 
 IT was very late when I went below. The 
 cabin was deserted by all save Mrs. Ran 
 dolph, who was apparently awaiting my 
 return. I wondered if she had not come up 
 the companion-way more than once to ascertain 
 what was detaining me. She sat by the table 
 and had been trying to kill time with solitaire. 
 She had the cards spread out in little piles, 
 but swept them into a heap when she saw me. 
 
 Garbed in white, as her sister had been, she 
 arose as I entered. She must have understood 
 the impression that dress and feminine charms 
 make on a man and counted on it in the inter 
 view she was seeking. Yet at the moment there 
 was no thought in my mind that the witchery 
 of dress and the sweet brightness she had as 
 sumed were so intended. I saw but her beauty. 
 And as I thus beheld her I longed to take her 
 in my arms and tell her how I loved her, and 
 that all my mysterious actions were based on 
 that love. I had delayed on deck that I might 
 not see her again that night; but now my heart 
 
 163
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 so went out to her that it pleased me to know 
 she had waited and that I had not missed see 
 ing her. Yet I hesitated. 
 
 '' Julian," she said when I took the chair near 
 her, "you were talking of Courtney Lane ?" 
 
 The electric lamp shedding its white light on 
 her face revealed its hidden anxiety. 
 
 "This is romantic," I evaded; "out on the 
 rolling deep, with a staunch yacht under us, a 
 reliable captain and crew, and the wind and 
 waves flying. I think I should like to cross the 
 Atlantic in this way." 
 
 "We may again some time," she said, trying 
 to meet my pretended jocund spirit in the same 
 mood. 
 
 "When was it we went to the Mediterranean 
 in the Idler?"" I asked, trifling with the cards. 
 
 " Four years ago shortly after our marriage." 
 
 How strange that sounded! She had mar 
 ried Julian Randolph four years ago. And she 
 looked not more than twenty. 
 
 "And we had a perfectly splendid time!" she 
 added. 
 
 She leaned toward me, her blue eyes shining, 
 her lips parted, a spot of red in each cheek. 
 
 "Oh, Julian! Julian!" 
 
 Remorse cut me like a knife. 
 
 "Be a man!" my manhood whispered. 
 
 164
 
 "IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED" 
 
 "Play your part to the end," advised my 
 fears. 
 
 I thought I knew what was in her heart; and 
 that wild longing to take her in my arms and 
 claim her for my very own almost overpowered 
 me. 
 
 My fingers trembled as I felt in my pockets 
 for that letter from Asbury Rand which had 
 startled me in the house on Fifth Avenue. She 
 was watching me, her attitude expectant, eager, 
 as we sat there we two alone together. She 
 divined for what I was searching. 
 
 "If you don't desire to talk about it, Julian ?" 
 she said, with gracious comprehension of my 
 trembling hesitation. 
 
 "My God," I burst out, "I've got to talk 
 about it!" 
 
 I felt that she needed a better understanding 
 of the groundwork of my fears. 
 
 "Here is that letter," I said, giving it to her. 
 "I have known for some time that Courtney 
 Lane is my deadly enemy; that he distrusts me, 
 and intends to crush me. So I took steps to 
 cripple his efforts all I could. But I didn't know 
 he was so desperate didn't dream of it; this 
 letter will show you how desperate he is. It 
 was sent to me by a detective whom I employed 
 to look up his misdoings."
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "You employed a detective?" 
 
 She clutched the letter and took in its con 
 tents at a glance. 
 
 "I employed a detective to shadow Lane," 
 I said defiantly. "He discovered the fact, or 
 else became frightened by that interview in 
 the Mirror; and, as you see there, he purposes 
 to have me examined by alienists and declared 
 insane, that I may not be able to thwart him 
 in the financial raids he is making on you, 
 under cover of serving you." 
 
 She ignored this; it was not as new as it had 
 been a few hours before. 
 
 "You do not believe what that letter says ?" 
 
 "I believe everything in it," I answered. 
 "Lane pretends to think that I am either an 
 impostor or a lunatic, and perhaps a good deal 
 of both." 
 
 "You should have shown me this at the 
 house," she urged. 
 
 "Could you have stopped him ?" 
 
 "I'm sure I could. He is very silly, if he has 
 undertaken a thing of this kind." 
 
 "He has not only undertaken it, but he means 
 to carry it through," I assured her. "I hope 
 you will begin to understand the infamy of that 
 man. He has been robbing you boldly. He 
 knows that I know it; and the only thing he can 
 
 166
 
 "IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED" 
 
 think of to keep me from exposing him is some 
 such desperate game as this." 
 
 "I I think you must be mistaken!" 
 
 But her lips trembled, and her face was again 
 white. 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph," I said, and I know my 
 voice shook, "will you let me make a confession 
 to you?" 
 
 "Say anything you please, Julian." 
 
 "I must tell you the truth again," I cried 
 huskily; "for the lies I repeat over and over 
 and the lie I am living choke me. I am horri 
 fied, when I think of it; and I seem to think of it 
 all the time." 
 
 She laid her hand on my arm. 
 
 "Julian," she said earnestly, "don't you think 
 I understand the situation ?" 
 
 "Yes, but I must tell you!" I declared. "I 
 must tell you again, for you seem not to have 
 believed me, or comprehended. I did meet 
 Lane that time in Philadelphia. He has se 
 cured the proofs of it, and of the fact that I 
 taught in a school there. He believes, knows, 
 that I am not Julian Randolph." 
 
 Her fingers tightened in a sharp clutch on my 
 arm. 
 
 "You hear what I say ?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, Julian." 
 
 167
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 The very calmness and quietness of the 
 answer startled me. 
 
 I dropped to her feet, in an agony of love and 
 remorse. 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph," I said, "when I met you 
 in that strange way I loved you as soon as I saw 
 you; and I love you a thousand times more now 
 than I did then. I did not believe such love 
 was possible. To think that I may now lose 
 you fills me with a continual terror. And yet 
 I am going to confess fully my imposture, even 
 though it sends me from you forever." 
 
 She bent over me and put her arms round my 
 neck. I do not know how it happened; but the 
 next moment she was weeping in my arms, and 
 I was kissing her hair with rapturous, feverish 
 kisses. I drew her to me, passionately, in 
 sanely; I felt that I could not let her go. 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph," I said, "I have been from 
 the first a base liar and hypocrite. I took ad 
 vantage of your belief in my identity as your 
 husband. Would to God I were your hus 
 band! But I am not. I am only a miserable 
 fraud and pretender. You would not believe 
 this at first, and my great love for you then 
 caused me to become so weak and villanous 
 that I stopped trying to make you see the 
 truth. But I can go no farther." 
 
 168
 
 "IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED" 
 
 I poured out my confession in that wild way. 
 I told her of my suspicions against Courtney 
 Lane and how they were aroused; of how I had 
 resolved to thwart and ruin him, for her sake; 
 of how when that was done I had meant to con 
 fess everything to her and leave her forever; and 
 of the feeling that had grown in me and become 
 stronger than my own life that I could not leave 
 her, because I loved her with a power which I 
 could not subdue. 
 
 "I knew you would scorn and hate me; you 
 scorn and hate me now?" I raved. 
 
 She clung to me, weeping like a child. 
 
 "You don't believe what I have told you?" 
 I cried. 
 
 "If you want me to, I will believe all of 
 it." 
 
 "You must believe that I love you! Oh, my 
 God, how I love you! It will kill me to lose 
 you." 
 
 I pressed her to my heart and lavished kisses 
 on her. She did not draw away. 
 
 "Though I am not your husband, I may hope 
 to become your husband ?" 
 
 "Yes, if you wish it, Julian." 
 
 Julian! Great Heavens! Even yet she did 
 not believe me. I released her from my arms. 
 
 "I wish it," I avowed. "No man ever wished 
 
 169
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 anything more. You will not change when you 
 find that all I have told you is true ?" 
 
 She smoothed back her hair, rumpled by my 
 caresses. She was breathless. 
 
 "What a lover you are! See what a tangle 
 my hair is in." 
 
 She tried to straighten it out, taking the chair 
 she had occupied. I took the other, and looked 
 at her, my hungry love unsatisfied, marvelling 
 at this woman's belief in me. 
 
 "See!" she said. "You've snarled it so that 
 I shall have to braid it." 
 
 She shook the shining coils down her back. 
 They were loose and fluffy, and the light bright 
 ened them; they were a very glory against the 
 white of her dress. When she set her slender 
 fingers at work the flying strands became rayon- 
 nant. 
 
 "You will believe me," I said, "when I prove 
 to you that Courtney Lane is a deep-dyed 
 villain?" 
 
 "It will be hard to believe. He has prob 
 ably made mistakes; he isn't perfection. If he 
 got out those papers against you and chased us 
 in that tug he certainly made a very great 
 mistake." 
 
 "You will believe what I say of him if I 
 prove it ?" 
 
 170
 
 "IN THIS HUMOUR WOOED" 
 
 "I shall have to." 
 
 "And these other things, if I prove them ?" 
 
 "I shall have to, then, of course." 
 
 She did not believe them now, however. She 
 wrinkled her brows in perplexity; in her azure 
 eyes rested a cloud of some kind. 
 
 "The important thing is that I love you," I 
 said; "that is all I know now. I hope I don't 
 need to prove that; and I shall want to know 
 nothing else forever than that you love me. I 
 intend to prove myself the man you love, even 
 if not the man you suppose me to be. You 
 have loved the memory of your husband. I 
 shall be to you your husband reincarnated." 
 
 "It would be the strangest thing in the 
 world." 
 
 Her fingers were flying in her shining braids, 
 her blue eyes were fixed on my flushed face. 
 What she saw there I do not know; other than 
 that I am sure she did not fail to see the over 
 mastering love that had swept me on. 
 
 "Kitty," I said, "I will be the best and the 
 most loving husband it is possible for me to be 
 for any man to be. I shall live just to love 
 you and make you happy. You love me now, 
 as another man; you shall love me for myself 
 alone, and as your husband. You have given 
 me life again. I feared you would spurn me. 
 
 171
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 But you will not spurn me ever, even if I have 
 
 played the hypocrite?" 
 
 " Of course not," was her answer, her brows 
 
 still perplexed and her eyes shadowed. 
 "And you will become my wife ?" 
 "If I am not your wife now, I am ready to 
 
 become your wife at any time." 
 
 " Was ever woman in this humour wooed ? 
 Was ever woman in this humour won ?" 
 
 172
 
 XVI 
 
 THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 
 
 "\7 r RK HARBOR, Captain," I said to Cap 
 tain Quinby, when he came to me for 
 further instructions. 
 
 "York Harbor it is," he answered, "and a 
 pleasant place. I've been there a number of 
 times." 
 
 Obeying my orders, he kept the yacht well 
 out at sea, to avoid being spoken by passing 
 vessels, and went on toward York Harbor. 
 My inclinations made me wish to cruise idly 
 about, without touching at any port, until our 
 supply of coal was nearly gone; but I was anx 
 ious to get in telegraphic communication with 
 Asbury Rand, whom I pictured as industri 
 ously digging up for me the evidence with 
 which I should overwhelm and crush Courtney 
 Lane. 
 
 On this point I grew so anxious that I had 
 the captain put in at Bryant's Cove, on the 
 Massachusetts coast, and I sent a boat ashore 
 with an urgent telegram. Mrs. Randolph sent 
 a message to Lane, which she showed me, tell-
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 ing him if he had taken any such steps against 
 me as I thought he must desist at once. 
 
 Jack Benson was at first very anxious to be 
 put ashore here, but I think he must have had 
 a further talk with Miss Hansborough or Mrs. 
 Randolph, for after some half-suppressed fum 
 ing he merely sent an explanatory message to 
 his captain. I was too engrossed in my own 
 affairs to give much heed to this at the time. 
 
 As for Mrs. Randolph and her sister, they 
 had apparently come to some mutual under 
 standing about me; for when I urged York 
 Harbor instead of Newport, neither offered the 
 slightest objection. They really seemed (for 
 my benefit I felt sure) to prefer York Harbor 
 just then to any other place on earth. 
 
 So the Idler (now deserving its name) idled 
 along. I wanted to give Asbury Rand time not 
 only to get my telegram, but to "do things," if 
 he had not already done them. The orders I 
 had sent him were peremptory; chief of them 
 was an instruction to arrest Courtney Lane at 
 once, if he had secured or could secure a scin 
 tilla of evidence against him. 
 
 Voyaging lazily, on lazy summer seas, is about 
 the most delightful mode of existence imagina 
 ble, if one can have ease of mind. The skies 
 were blue, the seas blue, and the eyes of my
 
 THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 
 
 love were as blue as the seas or the sky. In 
 spite of depressing anxiety, love sailed with us. 
 The clouds became fleecy and the winds slept. 
 The Idler was almost like " a painted ship upon 
 a painted ocean." 
 
 The sun was descending in red cloud banks, 
 as we steamed slowly through the narrow 
 channel into the little bay at York Harbor and 
 cast anchor before the town. We floated the 
 pennant of the New York Yacht Club. 
 
 Hardly was the anchor down when a boat put 
 out from the wharf and came bobbing toward 
 us. Jerome touched my elbow. 
 
 "There's that New York officer, sir!" 
 
 His voice thrilled with the tremendous import 
 of his discovery. He was right; it was the New 
 York officer. We crowded to the rail, watching 
 the boat as it came dancing toward us across 
 the sparkling waves. Mrs. Randolph was in 
 blue linen, Miss Hansborough in the white 
 dress that so became her. 
 
 Turning my back on the little company by 
 the rail I ran below and into my stateroom. 
 There I secured the revolver I had brought from 
 the house on Fifth Avenue. It had been Julian 
 Randolph's. I had appropriated it, and the 
 cartridges I found with it, for an emergency, as 
 I had appropriated all his other belongings. 
 
 175
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 The boat was almost alongside when I re 
 gained the deck and again stood with Mrs. Ran 
 dolph and her companions. All were looking 
 down into the boat. 
 
 The man in the stern-sheets stood up now. 
 He was middle-aged, moustached, severe-look 
 ing, and he wore a suit of coarse plaids. A big 
 watch chain cabled his waistcoat, and I saw 
 the shine of a seal ring as he put up his hand to 
 lift his derby hat. 
 
 "Is this yacht the Idler?" he asked; a super 
 fluous question, for the name was visible on the 
 starboard bow which he had passed, and he 
 must have seen it. 
 
 "It is," said Benson, staring an inquiry. 
 
 "Then, will you be kind enough to tell me if 
 Mr. Julian Randolph is on board ?" 
 
 "He is not," I responded, with a promptness 
 that kept any one else from answering. 
 
 "I mean a man answering to the name of 
 Julian Randolph ?" he amended, and began to 
 feel in an inside pocket of his plaid coat. 
 
 "What is it you wish of him?" Mrs. Ran 
 dolph asked. 
 
 I could see that both Benson and the captain 
 were startled, and that even the nut-brown maid 
 had lost her customary sang-froid. 
 
 The man stopped his pocket fumbling and
 
 THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 
 
 looked Mrs. Randolph straight in the face, for 
 the moment ignoring the rest of us. The boat 
 was bumping against the yacht, and one of the 
 boatmen had put up an oar to push it off. 
 
 "I have evidence, Madam," was the respect 
 ful answer, with another touch of his derby hat, 
 "that the man who has been posing as Julian 
 Randolph, and by many is believed to be Julian 
 Randolph, is on this yacht. I don't want to 
 make trouble. My name is Jepson; I am a 
 police officer, from New York, and have instruc 
 tions to arrest and hold this man for exami 
 nation. I am acting in conjunction with the 
 police officers here." 
 
 He waved his hand toward a man who sat in 
 the boat. 
 
 As no one answered immediately through 
 amazement on the part of Mrs. Randolph and 
 her sister, Benson and the captain Jepson 
 went on, explaining: 
 
 "It was thought your yacht would put in at 
 Newport; but she was sighted farther north, 
 and a wireless was sent; it was believed she was 
 coming here. Then I received my instruc 
 tions." 
 
 He brought his written authority out with a 
 jerk. The boatman had given a sudden push 
 against the side of the yacht with his oar, to 
 
 177
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 keep the bumping boat off, and Jepson came 
 near going into the water. He righted himself, 
 and stood up, red-faced and threatening. 
 
 "If he is on board, it is my duty to arrest 
 him!" 
 
 "He is not on board," said Mrs. Randolph 
 quietly. 
 
 Jepson's red face looked indignant disbelief. 
 
 "Are you quite sure of that, Madam?" he 
 asked sharply. "He was on her when she 
 sailed from New York, and you have stopped 
 nowhere but at Bryant's Cove, where the boat 
 took only messages ashore. He is bound to be 
 on this yacht, unless he jumped overboard." 
 
 "We threw him over, just off Highland 
 Light," said Benson with reckless lightness of 
 manner. 
 
 Jepson's red face grew redder. His derby, 
 his moustache, even that suit of plaid, bristled 
 indignation. 
 
 "Come!" he cried. "No foolishness! This 
 ain't no joke. I'm commanded to get this man, 
 and I want him." He looked straight at me. 
 "I think that is the man right there." 
 
 Miss Hansborough leaned persuasively over 
 the rail. She was cool again, and the only one 
 there who was. 
 
 " If we tell you that the man you are looking
 
 THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 
 
 for isn't on the Idler, and hasn't been on the 
 Idler , what then ?" she asked. 
 
 " But he sailed on her from New York. And 
 I know that's him, standing right there. I'm sure 
 he's the guy I'm after, and I'll take the risks." 
 
 " Do you mean that you will drag me off" this 
 yacht on mere suspicion ?" I flashed at him. 
 
 "Let me search the yacht. The man I'm 
 after was on her." 
 
 " If you should find him, what would you do 
 with him?" Miss Hansborough asked sweetly. 
 
 "Hold him, of course." 
 
 "Hold him where?" 
 
 "In jail, unless he furnished bail; men are 
 coming on from New York to identify him, and 
 they'll be here by the next train. If I made a 
 mistake, the man could go; but if I wasn't 
 mistaken he'd probably be held here, after 
 examination, for extradition papers." 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry," said Miss Hansborough, 
 still leaning over the rail. "It's too bad to have 
 to disappoint you." 
 
 "Do you mean you ain't going to surrender 
 him?" 
 
 "Why, of course, Silly, we'd surrender him if 
 he were here; but he isn't here." 
 
 She pulled some petals from a flower she 
 wore, put one carelessly between her lips and 
 
 179
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 as carelessly threw the others into the water. 
 Her nerves were as steady as iron. I dared not 
 look at Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 "Then I'll search the yacht!" Jepson bel 
 lowed. 
 
 "You may," said Miss Hansborough, "if 
 you're not willing to accept our word. But you 
 will not find him." She puckered her brows 
 into a severe frown. "But let me remind you 
 that in doing so you become a trespasser." 
 
 Jepson took hold of the rail and swung him 
 self up, with a boost from the oarsman. He 
 walked straight up to me. 
 
 "I think you're the man I want," he said. 
 
 "Better be sure of it," I warned. My hand 
 was on the revolver in my pocket, though I had 
 not made up my mind to use it. 
 
 "Here's the yacht before you," said Mrs. 
 Randolph. "Look it over." 
 
 Jepson hesitated; he was confused, and his 
 face was still a fiery red. He had the outraged 
 air of a man who feels that he is being trifled 
 with and badgered. After a moment he moved 
 toward the companion-way. 
 
 "I'll go down and look round," he said, "but 
 I think that's my man." He stopped. "I'd 
 like to have some one go along, to give me the 
 lay of things." 
 
 180
 
 THE OFFICER FROM NEW YORK 
 
 "To be sure," said Benson. 
 
 Jepson went below, accompanied by Jack 
 Benson and Miss Hansborough. The captain 
 drew off toward the after deck and looked at 
 the sky. Forward some members of the crew 
 were glancing in our direction; and two of the 
 stokers, sweaty and grimy, who had come up 
 for a breath of air, also looked our way. 
 
 "Julian," said Mrs. Randolph in an alarmed 
 voice, "what shall we do?" 
 
 " Do ? Nothing. I shall not go with that 
 fellow, and if he tries to make me there will be 
 trouble. I understand this thing. Lane is 
 back of it, of course. I shall fight for my 
 liberty, for a long enough time to enable me 
 to put him behind the bars. Then I'm willing 
 to surrender; for there will be nothing to sur 
 render to, when he is out of the way." 
 
 She was troubled; her face held almost a 
 frightened look. 
 
 "Come," I said, "don't worry! I don't in 
 tend to surrender to him." 
 
 "You could furnish a bond, you know, and " 
 
 "What ? Yield even that much ? Suffer the 
 ignominy of being placed under arrest at the in 
 stigation of Courtney Lane ? No; I'll fight first." 
 
 "You are right," she assented; "I see you 
 are right. Forgive me." 
 
 181
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Jepson did not stay below long. When he 
 came up, Benson and Miss Hansborough were 
 with him. Benson's face was as red now as 
 Jepson's, and both were as red as the setting 
 sun. I saw that he and Jepson had been 
 having words. The nut-brown maid was still 
 calm. Benson came toward me quickly, getting 
 in front of Jepson. His broad shoulders looked 
 peculiarly aggressive. His eyes glittered. He 
 tossed back his long hair angrily, with a heavy 
 swing of his muscular hand. He seemed to 
 expand vigorously, in his loose suit of gray 
 flannel. 
 
 "He says he's going to take you," he almost 
 shouted; "and if he tries it, and you don't want 
 to go with him, there's going to be a first-class 
 fight!" 
 
 182
 
 XVII 
 
 UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 
 
 J EPSON followed hard at Benson's heels. 
 He stopped in front of me, ignoring the 
 aggressive youth, eyed me sharply, and took 
 out his folded paper. He began to read the 
 document, which called for my detention. 
 
 There was a nervous silence all round, in 
 which his harsh voice rose with singular clear 
 ness; a silence that made distinct the splashing 
 of the waves against the hull of the yacht and 
 the grinding and bumping of the boat against 
 the planks. 
 
 One of the boatmen had climbed to the rail, 
 and was hanging poised there, with one leg 
 only on deck. Jerome stood close by the com 
 panion-way, his face pink and indignant. The 
 captain had edged nearer, his hands thrust 
 loosely into the pockets of his white coat; he 
 was regarding the scene with frowning uneasi 
 ness. 
 
 "I must ask you to come with me," said 
 Jepson, when he had finished reading. He 
 slipped his coat open, displayed an official badge, 
 
 '83
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 and lifted his voice. "I command you to sur 
 render!" He glanced irresolutely at the boat 
 man hanging over the rail, as if thinking of 
 appealing to him for aid. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph broke the awkward pause that 
 followed. She was outwardly as calm now as 
 her sister, which must have cost her a great 
 effort. 
 
 "Mr. Jepson," she said, "I think this farce 
 has gone on long enough. This is our yacht. 
 The man you are looking for is not here. We 
 decline to be insulted further. There is your 
 boat, and you will please us by getting into 
 it." 
 
 "By George, we'll pitch you into it, if you 
 don't go!" cried Benson. "We have had enough 
 of you." 
 
 "I'll come again!" said Jepson, moving 
 toward the rail. "I'm an officer of the law, 
 and I'll come again. This is resisting an 
 officer." 
 
 "If you show your nose on this deck, over 
 you go, without any foolishness!" said Benson, 
 following him. 
 
 "I'll get help, and come again," Jepson 
 threatened. 
 
 The boatman went out of sight over the rail. 
 Jepson gained the rail and sprang lightly down 
 
 184
 
 UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 
 
 into the boat. The captain, lighted cigar now 
 in his teeth, sauntered toward us, and Jerome 
 advanced from the head of the companion-way. 
 The boat moved from the side of the Idler. 
 The next moment it was being pulled shore 
 ward. 
 
 Captain Quinby laughed as if the whole thing 
 had amused him greatly. 
 
 " I was ready to put in an oar if I was wanted," 
 he said. 
 
 "But he declared he would come back!" 
 said Mrs. Randolph uneasily. "We must leave 
 here at once." 
 
 "No," I said, "we are not going until I get 
 some word from New York. I am not afraid 
 of that scoundrel. If a man's house is his 
 castle, so is his yacht; and we'll defend it, if 
 we have to." 
 
 "We'll run up the Jolly Roger," said Benson, 
 with an effervescence that could hardly have 
 been real. 
 
 As soon as it was certain that Jepson would 
 not return immediately we held a council of 
 war in the cabin. I invited Captain Quinby 
 to consult with us, but instructed him to station 
 a lookout on deck, that we might not be sur 
 prised. And I asked Jerome to come in. I 
 felt that I needed now all the force I could
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 muster. Four men, not to mention the crew, 
 of whom I was not sure, would constitute no 
 mean fighting force. 
 
 To all except Mrs. Randolph I was still 
 posing as Julian Randolph. How much Miss 
 Hansborough knew, or guessed, I could not tell. 
 She was of course her sister's confidante. And 
 lovers hold few secrets from each other. Hence 
 it seemed probable that if Miss Hansborough 
 had been enlightened, Benson had been, too. 
 Whatever they knew, if anything, they con 
 cealed from the captain. 
 
 "In the first place," I said, opening our talk, 
 "it is to be understood that if I surrender to 
 this man it will be only when I am ready to 
 do so. A trap has been set for me, and I do 
 not intend to fall into it. I am expecting im 
 portant news from New York; an answer to the 
 telegram I sent from Bryant's Cove. As soon 
 as I get it I intend to turn the tables on the 
 man who is now trying to ruin me. When 
 things have so shaped themselves that I know 
 I shall be safe from him, I shall be ready to 
 face whatever legal complications may come 
 from our present action. But now, and until 
 I have news from my agent in New York, I 
 shall fight, before I surrender." 
 
 I stopped. Fuller explanations, and the men- 
 
 186
 
 UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 
 
 tion of the name of Courtney Lane, did not 
 seem necessary. 
 
 "Will some one go ashore and find if there is 
 a telegram for me ?" I asked in the silence that 
 followed. 
 
 "I will," said Benson, and there was fighting 
 fire in his eyes; "I think I'd like to know what 
 is being said and done there." 
 
 "I can go," Captain Quinby volunteered. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph lifted her eyes to mine. 
 
 "Perhaps I'd better go, Julian," she said, 
 surprising me by the offer. "Margaret and I 
 are the ones to go. The men should stay by 
 the yacht. I don't think that officer will return; 
 but if he should, with assistance, as he threat 
 ened, you may need all the force you have 
 here." 
 
 The wharves were not far away, and I had 
 been informed that the telegraph office was not 
 distant from the wharves; so that it would have 
 been easy to send Jerome, or even some mem 
 ber of the crew. But I saw that Mrs. Randolph 
 wished to go. 
 
 The conference broke up at once; and Mrs. 
 Randolph and Miss Hansborough were taken 
 ashore in the Idler s launch. Benson and I, 
 the captain and Jerome, stood on deck, and 
 watched them until after they landed. The 
 
 187
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 launch remained at the wharf, and Mrs. Ran 
 dolph and her sister disappeared. 
 
 Though the fading sunlight still shone in 
 flashes of fire in some of the upper windows of 
 the houses of the town, the wharves and streets 
 were being shadowed and the street lamps 
 began to shine. 
 
 "I'm beginning to enjoy this," said Benson, 
 walking the deck with me. 
 
 "You must have had some old berserker for 
 an ancestor," was my comment. 
 
 "No; it's the excitement something the 
 way a fellow feels when a football game is on, 
 or coming on. It makes me understand how 
 our boys get desperate over in the Philippines, 
 with fanatical Moros popping at them from the 
 bush, and proceed to shoot a datto or two, to 
 even things. I wanted to throw a chair at that 
 officer, and had hard work not to do it." 
 
 Captain Quinby was beginning to enjoy it, 
 too. He strolled up to where we stood talking. 
 
 " I heard what you said, about a man's yacht 
 being his castle. That ought to be good law. It's 
 good law with me, anyhow, aboard ship." 
 
 We killed time with talk, but the wait 
 began to grow tedious. It had been late when 
 we steamed into the harbor, and night was now 
 at hand. Benson looked at the darkening town. 
 
 188
 
 UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 
 
 "I don't suppose anything can happen to 
 them ?" he remarked. 
 
 "Impossible," said the captain, "it's but a 
 little distance to the telegraph office." 
 
 Some boats pulled off and rowed round the 
 Idler, the occupants looking inquisitively at her 
 and at the group on her deck. One, disrepu 
 table and impertinent, drew alongside and be 
 gan to ask questions. 
 
 "We've got Captain Kidd aboard," said Ben 
 son, replying. "He's hunting along this coast 
 for some of his old buried treasure." 
 
 "Ah, gwan ! What ye givin' us ? " was fired back. 
 
 "When a fool asks fool questions I give him a 
 fool's answer," said Benson, in an amused voice. 
 
 The inquisitive occupants of the boat became 
 offended, made indignant remarks, and rowed 
 away. 
 
 Suddenly lights flashed on the wharf, and a 
 large boat put out. It was not our launch. 
 As it approached we saw that it carried Jepson 
 and a number of men. 
 
 "They have come for me, and are going to 
 fight; and they have detained the women, to 
 keep them out of it," I said, as a guess. "They 
 intend to take the yacht by force. If they try 
 it!" I drew my revolver "they'll find that 
 they have waked up the wrong passenger."
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I was furiously angry and in a mood for 
 fighting. 
 
 A sloop yacht near us had a light burning, 
 which cast a red streak on the water. 
 
 "If they cross the line of light from that 
 sloop I shall certainly fire into them," I added 
 as the boat came on. 
 
 "Perhaps they only want to parley," said 
 Quinby, in a tone which suggested that he 
 thought me rash. 
 
 "Captain Quinby," I demanded in a spurt of 
 wrath, "are you with me in this, or with the 
 crowd in that boat?" 
 
 "With you, sir, of course," he said; yet he 
 was not pleased with the manner of my address. 
 
 "Understand then," I announced, "that I 
 shall resist arrest to the last gasp." 
 
 I looked at Benson. 
 
 "Jack," I cried, "I know you will back me 
 in this ? They have held Mrs. Randolph and 
 Miss Hansborough ashore, and now they intend 
 to capture me." 
 
 Benson, who had risen and was staring at the 
 boat, put his hand on the back of the steamer 
 chair he had been occupying, thus seizing it for 
 a weapon. 
 
 "We'll stand by you," he said. 
 
 Jerome picked up a billet of wood and came 
 
 190
 
 UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER 
 
 forward, and ranged himself by my side. The 
 captain advanced to the rail, with the air of a 
 man who has determined to stick to his em 
 ployer, right or wrong. 
 
 "I guess they're coming for you," he ad 
 mitted, reluctantly. 
 
 There was a show of excitement among the 
 members of the crew who were on deck, but I 
 did not ask their aid. 
 
 As the boat carrying Jepson and his deputies 
 drew near the red glare cast on the water by 
 the light of the sloop yacht, I caught up a 
 megaphone. 
 
 "If you cross the line of that light I shall fire 
 on you!" I shouted through it. 
 
 The oars backed water instantly and there 
 was confusion in the boat. 
 
 "We've come to demand your surrender!" 
 Jepson bellowed. 
 
 "You demanded that before," I answered, 
 "and I told you I refused to surrender to you. 
 That is still my answer; and if you come any 
 closer I shall open fire on your boat." 
 
 I held up the glittering revolver and clicked 
 the cylinder round. 
 
 There was a hurried consultation in the boat. 
 The confusion continued for a minute or more. 
 Then the oars dropped into the water and the 
 
 191
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 boat advanced. As it came well within the 
 light from the sloop yacht I could see the tense 
 faces of the men and even the glitter of their 
 eyes, so close were they. 
 
 "Halt!" I commanded, lifting the revolver. 
 
 The boat swung out into the centre of the 
 forbidden line and came on. 
 
 "You think I'm bluffing," I cried. "This 
 will show you!" 
 
 In that light, and being so near, the boat 
 was a fair target. I swung the revolver down 
 on it, and by good luck sent a bullet into the 
 prow near the water line. When my revolver 
 cracked, the boat stopped so suddenly that one 
 man was almost spilled over the bow. A cry of 
 excitement went up from the wharves. In the 
 midst of the confusion I fired again, the bullet 
 cutting into the water near the boat's bow. 
 
 Jepson shouted something, but if it was an 
 order to go ahead it was not obeyed. I had 
 frightened the crew; and they turned the boat 
 about hastily, and began to row toward the 
 shore with much hurried splashing of the oars. 
 
 Benson laughed, and even Captain Quinby 
 seemed highly amused. I was still in deadly 
 earnest, and I ejected the empty shells and 
 replaced them with cartridges. 
 
 192
 
 XVIII 
 
 DISQUIETING FEARS 
 
 THE crowd on the wharves increased as the 
 boat neared the shore. Men were seen 
 running wildly from the town, and the 
 boatloads of curious people increased in num 
 ber. But these curious folk kept well away 
 from the Idler. My revolver shots and the re 
 treat of Jepson had kicked up a tremendous 
 excitement. On all the water craft about us peo 
 ple were now standing with eyes and glasses 
 trained on our deck. Benson laughed in a man 
 ner to suggest that the strain on his nerves was 
 beginning to tell. 
 
 "Since we have run up the Jolly Roger," he 
 said, "why not load the little brass signal gun 
 and give them a ripping salute with it if they 
 come again ?" 
 
 When darkness fell and Mrs. Randolph and 
 Miss Hansborough still delayed, their continued 
 absence began to create real uneasiness. 
 
 A thin white mist lay now on the water. 
 Through it the lights about us and the lights of 
 the town shone dimly. We hung out our lan- 
 
 193
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 terns. And still the women did not appear. 
 Quinby became as puzzled as we were, and, as 
 his words showed, suspicious. 
 
 "Captain," I said at last, "Benson and I will 
 take the small boat and go ashore." 
 
 "It may be a trap for you, sir," he warned. 
 "Don't you think if an investigation is made I 
 had better make it?" 
 
 But I was now too anxious and too much 
 alarmed. Whatever risk there was I would 
 take it. I imagined all sorts of impossible non 
 sense concerning things that might have be 
 fallen Mrs. Randolph. I thought chiefly of 
 Mrs. Randolph; Benson's anxiety was for Miss 
 Hansborough. Which shows that love is not 
 only a singular, but a selfish, passion. Within 
 the charmed and fairy ring which bounds it 
 there is room for but two people; all the rest of 
 the world must stand aloof. 
 
 The incoming tide was swinging the yacht 
 around so that she now lay broadside to the 
 wharf. When the boat was lowered, Benson 
 and I climbed down into it silently and rowed 
 a short distance seaward, so that if seen it would 
 not be guessed that we were from the Idler. 
 Then we turned, swinging in a large half-circle, 
 and pulled toward the shore. Benson was capi 
 tal with the oar. He explained his proficiency 
 
 194
 
 DISQUIETING FEARS 
 
 by saying that he had practised one season 
 in the Harvard freshman crew on the classic 
 Charles. 
 
 We soon discovered that our danger was not 
 excessive. There were other small boats out, 
 and few of them carried lights. We came near 
 bumping into one of them. Avoiding the small 
 floating dock where our launch lay, we gained 
 a black wharf not distant from it. The rising 
 tide enabled us to climb readily out on this 
 wharf, which we found slippery with the mist. 
 
 "Now for that telegraph office," I said. 
 
 But before we had gone far we were stopped 
 by hearing voices. They were speaking of the 
 Idler: 
 
 "He's goin' to bring a tug round from Ports 
 mouth. They say that devil will fight, and it 
 looks it; but Jepson's got a lot of sand, too, and 
 he won't give up easy. He says he'll take him 
 before morning." 
 
 Benson pressed my arm significantly. I drew 
 him to one side, and we passed on unseen. But 
 we had, it seemed, made a highly important dis 
 covery. 
 
 As we were about to enter the narrow street 
 that leads from the wharves we again heard 
 voices the voices of men, and of Mrs. Ran 
 dolph and Miss Hansborough. I stopped stock 
 
 195
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 still, and Benson did the same. When the 
 women came into view two men were with 
 them, and as they passed between us and a 
 wharf lamp I saw that one of the men was 
 Courtney Lane. I know I trembled then, for 
 Benson cautioned me. 
 
 "Steady, old man!" he said. "It looks pecu 
 liar, but of course it's all right." 
 
 Yes, of course it was so far as Mrs. Ran 
 dolph and her sister were concerned. But that 
 Courtney Lane should even speak to Mrs. Ran 
 dolph made my blood boil. And though I 
 ought not to have been, I was astonished to 
 find that he was in York Harbor. They passed 
 on toward the launch while we stood uncertain 
 of our proper course. I caught but two sen 
 tences clearly. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph: 
 
 "I still insist that you are wholly wrong and 
 should have consulted me." 
 
 Courtney Lane: 
 
 "I used my best judgment. You will agree 
 with me in that by and by." 
 
 We followed. At the moment nothing but a 
 violent collision with Lane could have satisfied 
 my burning indignation. 
 
 "I feel like a thief," said Benson. "Per 
 haps we'd better make our presence known ?" 
 
 196
 
 DISQUIETING FEARS 
 
 My hesitation lost us the chance to do that. 
 Before I could make up my mind, the women 
 were in the launch and it was moving off. Lane 
 and his companion turned about, passed us in 
 the darkness without seeing us, and went on 
 toward the street. 
 
 "I'd like to follow Lane," I whispered. 
 
 "I think we'd better return at once to the 
 yacht," said Benson. 
 
 He was cooler than I, as I had sense enough 
 left to know. And I, too, was anxious to reach 
 the yacht as soon as possible. 
 
 "All right," I assented. 
 
 We ran round to our boat, and were soon 
 following in the wake of the launch toward the 
 Idler. 
 
 " I feel queer about this," Benson flung at me 
 over his shoulder as he dipped his oar. 
 
 He pulled a strong stroke. Even in the misty 
 gloom I could admire the swing of his athletic 
 body; and his oar went true, with a beautiful 
 feather, which I was not always able to manage. 
 
 "The whole thing is queer," I said. 
 
 When we reached the Idler we were greeted 
 from the half-darkness of the deck by Mrs. 
 Randolph and her sister. 
 
 "Silly boy!" said Mrs. Randolph to me. 
 "Were you afraid to trust us ashore?" 
 
 197
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Jack didn't try to run away to Cambridge, 
 I hope?" said Miss Hansborough. 
 
 "I was anxious," I admitted. 
 
 Benson said not a word; and we climbed to 
 the deck, where my first inquiry was for the 
 expected telegram from Asbury Rand. 
 
 "That was one of the things we waited for," 
 Mrs. Randolph explained, "when we found 
 nothing there for you. We wired to him, and 
 waited for an answer, but got nothing." 
 
 No telegram from Asbury Rand! I was be 
 wildered. It seemed incredible. 
 
 "You met Courtney Lane," I said. 
 
 She did not answer; for Captain Quinby, who 
 had gone to see to the proper hoisting of the 
 boats, was approaching us. 
 
 "We've been having a great battle," I said, 
 trying to assume a tone of jest as Quinby came 
 within hearing. "The captain will bear me 
 out in that. Jepson returned, with a rascally 
 crew of deputies, and we came near blowing 
 him out of the water. Jack has the signal gun 
 double-shotted in case they come again." 
 
 " I only wanted to," said Benson, apologetically. 
 
 "It was lively and interesting while it lasted," 
 Quinby acknowledged. 
 
 I moved with Mrs. Randolph toward the 
 companion-way. The captain turned back 
 
 198
 
 toward the boats. Jack Benson and Miss 
 Hansborough walked together aft. 
 
 " Then Jepson really returned ?" Mrs. Randolph 
 said to me in a low voice. "What did he do ?" 
 
 "He again demanded my surrender. I de 
 fied him, and fired on his boat." 
 
 "You didn't!" she gasped. 
 
 "I certainly did," I answered, "and he cleared 
 out in a hurry. But from what Jack and I 
 overheard on the wharf he has gone to Ports 
 mouth to get a tug and intends to board the 
 Idler in the darkness with a superior force. 
 But forewarned is forearmed." 
 
 "We must leave here at once," she declared. 
 
 We descended into the cabin. She was anx 
 ious and agitated; when she began to remove 
 her hat her fingers shook. 
 
 "We chanced to meet Mr. Lane and his 
 lawyer at the telegraph office when we went to 
 it the second time," she explained. "I had a 
 long talk with him." 
 
 "I should like to get my fingers on his throat, 
 the scoundrel!" I cried. 
 
 She looked me full in the face by the light of 
 the electric lamp. 
 
 "He seemed quite sincere," she said. "He 
 claimed to have proofs that you are an impostor 
 and wanted to show them to me." 
 
 199
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I told him the thing was too silly to talk about." 
 
 "Then what?" 
 
 "He said he would yet convince me that he 
 is right and that I am wrong. I told him to drop 
 it. And I have revoked his power of attorney." 
 
 "Good!" I cried. "He didn't acknowledge, 
 of course, that he has been swindling you ?" 
 
 "Here are the telegrams I received, in answer 
 to those I sent." 
 
 She took them from the pocket of the gray 
 travelling cloak she had worn ashore. 
 
 " I wired a New York lawyer, and he advised 
 me to consult some one here, which I did. 
 And it was the lawyer here who drew for me 
 the revocation of the power of attorney. So 
 you see I have been busy, and that accounts for 
 our long stay ashore." 
 
 "And then Lane came down to the wharf 
 with you ?" 
 
 "Yes. He urged that his intention was to 
 act in my interest, because he believed I was 
 being deceived by you. And then, as we were 
 alone, he and his attorney accompanied us 
 down to the launch." 
 
 "Kind of him, I'm sure!" I sneered. 
 
 "He tried to be gentlemanly about what he 
 had done," she urged. 
 
 200
 
 DISQUIETING FEARS 
 
 "And you think he will drop it now; will call 
 off Jepson and go back to New York ?" 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " I hope so. Yes, I think he will." 
 
 "I will fight him to the finish!" I cried. 
 
 I felt confused. My fingers ached to take 
 him by the throat. Yet I could not shake off 
 the unnerving conviction that no matter how 
 great a villain he was I was a greater still; 
 and I began to wonder how the whole thing 
 would end. His influence over Mrs. Randolph 
 was stronger than I liked. Nor could I under 
 stand the silence of my New York detective. 
 If Lane had bribed him to drop the work I 
 had assigned him I was placed at a decided 
 disadvantage. 
 
 The telegrams she gave me I had glanced 
 over as we talked, and had seen that to me 
 they were unimportant. 
 
 Miss Hansborough appeared in the cabin door 
 way, with Jack Benson looking over her shoulder. 
 
 "May we come in, O plotters ?" she asked. 
 
 Her cheeks were flushed and there was a 
 shining light in her brown eyes. She was still 
 wrapped in her dove-colored coat. It swung 
 open as she came in, revealing its lining of 
 shining silk of light blue. Benson looked both 
 crushed and warlike, as he followed her in. 
 
 201
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 He seemed still ready to fight Jepson, but the 
 nut-brown maid had evidently rebuked him for 
 something. 
 
 "I hear you have been trying to get us all 
 into jail," she said, speaking to me. "Suppose 
 that while you were playing Alkali Ike you had 
 killed some one?" 
 
 "They were the aggressors," was my reply. 
 "I warned them." 
 
 "What will you do if they come in the tug 
 from Portsmouth ?" 
 
 "They'll have a jolly time getting aboard," 
 said Benson, with bulldog grimness. 
 
 "We'll not be here when the tug comes, if 
 it does come," said Mrs. Randolph. "We shall 
 put to sea as soon as Jerome has taken some 
 messages ashore. Jack, will you tell the cap 
 tain that Jerome is to go ashore at once, and 
 to have a boat ready?" 
 
 She went to the tiny writing desk, scribbled a 
 message, and came back with a blank sheet 
 and a pencil for me. 
 
 "Here is paper for your message to Rand," 
 she said. "Margaret, summon Jerome." 
 
 She had assumed the guidance of affairs, and 
 I was made to feel suddenly that all along she 
 had merely permitted me to imagine that I 
 was the ruling spirit. 
 
 202
 
 XIX 
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 JEROME went ashore with the messages, mine 
 a peppery and peremptory one to Rand. I 
 hoped it would blister him into activity. 
 
 While we awaited Jerome's return we held 
 another consultation in the cabin, Captain 
 Quinby sitting with us. 
 
 "This reminds me," he said, "of the time I 
 was captain of the yacht Lothair, in the Med 
 iterranean, and an Algerian pirate who was 
 mayor of the town, or something, tried to hold 
 us up for a hundred pounds, claiming it was 
 customs duties. He swore by the beard of the 
 Prophet that if we didn't pay it he would have 
 us all in jail before morning. We pitched the 
 beggar into the sea, and while his crew was 
 fishing him out we sailed away." 
 
 Mrs. Randolph was poring over a chart on 
 the table. 
 
 "We will keep far enough out to make sure 
 we miss the tug, if that man has been foolish 
 enough to go for one," she said. "And then 
 we will steer for Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. 
 
 203
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Here it is. The answers to our telegrams can 
 be forwarded to that point." 
 
 She looked up from the chart. 
 
 "That will put us outside the jurisdiction of 
 the United States, Captain, which is what we want 
 just now. We will sail as soon as Jerome returns." 
 
 That some new rumors were afloat concern 
 ing us was shown by the appearance of a small 
 fleet of rowboats in the wake of Jerome's, as 
 he pulled off to the Idler. In one of them was 
 a reporter, who wanted to come aboard and 
 interview us. We refused. But for his benefit 
 Benson picked up a conversation with a boat 
 that bobbed its light like a drunken fire-fly 
 under our bows. 
 
 "What's the news from Jepson?" he asked. 
 
 "Are you going to fight him ?" was the answer. 
 
 "Sure thing!" said Benson. "Did you think 
 we wouldn't ? If you're harboring that idea 
 under your hat just take a look at our brass 
 cannon up here. She's loaded so full that she's 
 got the asthma. What's Jepson doing ?" 
 
 "Some say he's gone to Portsmouth to get a 
 tug. But they're goin' to send another boat 
 out from shore pretty soon." 
 
 "Oh, they are?" said Benson airily. "Just 
 stand by, then, and see us blow that boat out 
 of the water." 
 
 204
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 But at this juncture our anchor began to 
 come in. 
 
 "Say, you ain't goin' to sail now?" arose 
 from the boat in a wail of disappointment. 
 
 "We're off for Portsmouth, to meet Jepson," 
 Benson declared. "We intend to sink that tug, 
 and then come back here and fight any boat 
 that is sent against us. We'll sink that tug as 
 soon as we meet it." 
 
 Apparently Benson had irrevocably cast his 
 lot in with mine, in spite of his anxiety over 
 matters at Cambridge. My heart went out to 
 him in a great wave of thankfulness. 
 
 We were not molested as we steamed out of 
 the harbor. The boats drew away and gave 
 us ample room. The channel to the sea is like 
 the neck of a bottle, and the night was dark; 
 but we passed out slowly, and without accident. 
 And soon the lights of the town faded into the 
 mist that was thickening over the water. 
 
 " Fair Harvard is the chief thing that worries 
 me," Benson confessed, walking the deck with 
 me. "I'll have to fabricate to beat the band, 
 when I get back." He laughed without merri 
 ment. " Say, I'll claim that you held me aboard 
 there in New York when the Idler sailed, and 
 refused to land me afterward!" 
 
 "You might add something about the irre- 
 
 205
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 sistible power of a pair of brown eyes," I sug 
 gested. 
 
 But when I considered what he was doing for 
 me, I added: 
 
 "Jack, don't think I fail to appreciate your 
 kindness. You've made a tremendous sacrifice for 
 me, and I know it, and shall not soon forget it." 
 
 I had slept very little the night before. This 
 night I slept less, as we fled northward over the 
 tumbling sea. We saw nothing of that tug 
 from Portsmouth, and hardly a light after we 
 left the lights of York Harbor behind us in the 
 mist. Mrs. Randolph had directed the captain 
 to run well out to sea before laying his course, 
 and so we were out of sight of the lighthouses, 
 even if the mist had not hidden them. 
 
 This mist made gray-gold halos round our 
 lamps, and transformed Captain Quinby into a 
 moving ghost as he walked the deck. 
 
 "I'd advise you to go below, Mr. Randolph," 
 he said, when it was long past midnight. "It's 
 a nasty night." 
 
 "I will, Captain," I answered, "as soon as I 
 have smoked a cigar with you." 
 
 He gave me his, to serve as a light. The 
 misty fog blew in our faces with a salty sting 
 and made his oilskins shine. I drew my heavy 
 coat closer about my shoulders. 
 
 206
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 "Along about this time of year you can gen 
 erally cut the fog on this coast with a knife," he 
 said. "I hope we don't go blundering into any 
 of those Gloucester fishermen. When they're 
 loaded they race along here from the Grand 
 Banks for Boston as if they were after the 
 America's cup." 
 
 "I want to thank you, Captain," I said, "for 
 standing by me so manfully there in the harbor." 
 
 He laughed, shaking the water from his 
 sou'wester. 
 
 "Mr. Randolph," he said, with an earnest 
 ness I could not mistake, "he would be a poor 
 captain who wouldn't stand by the owner in a 
 case like that." 
 
 I saw that his faith in me as Julian Randolph 
 had not been shaken. 
 
 I continued to walk the deck even after I had 
 smoked out that cigar, my thoughts on Mrs. 
 Randolph. It vexed me that I had brought 
 this trouble and annoyance to her. She was of 
 a spirit so true and fine that she ought, I knew, 
 to be kept from things like this. She was con 
 tinually an uplifting and refining influence; like 
 the pure air of a mountain top, stimulating, 
 healing, refreshing, buoying. In spite of all, I 
 had been another, and, I hoped, a better man, 
 since I had known her. 
 
 207
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 My mind went back to the time when she 
 had called to me from her carriage, and it fol 
 lowed her through all the events since that 
 memorable meeting. Something new had come 
 into my life then. It could be felt, but not 
 defined. It had transformed me. What I had 
 since done I had done for her. My situation 
 was anomalous. Yet I persuaded myself that 
 at bottom it was not base. Nothing could be 
 base and breathe the air where she lived. 
 
 Yielding to these thoughts, I mused and 
 dreamed dreams. I felt that I was battling for 
 her even now as we fled across the misty seas. 
 I was but retreating, that I might be able to 
 deliver a stronger blow in her behalf when the 
 time came for it. My desire was sincere to pro 
 tect her and shield her. 
 
 I pictured her as asleep in her stateroom, 
 perhaps dreaming of me; or if awake, thinking 
 of me, as I was of her. Strange that it was so, 
 she still believed me to be her husband, Julian 
 Randolph! To change that belief and let her 
 see me as I was, not her husband, but her 
 devoted lover, and at the same time not to 
 shatter the love she felt for me, was now my 
 delicate task. That was of more importance 
 than even the overthrow of Courtney Lane. 
 All depended on it; my future happiness was 
 
 208
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 bound up in its accomplishment. I trembled 
 when I thought of the difficulties which hedged 
 that victory about. But no true lover despairs. 
 There is no wall of difficulty he can not sur 
 mount, however high, or howsoever it bristles 
 with foemen. 
 
 The pendulum of my hopes went forward 
 and back forward and back. At one mo 
 ment I was sure that Mrs. Randolph's life and 
 mine, having touched in so peculiar a way, were 
 destined not to be severed, whatever befell. 
 One moment I felt thus; and then with the diffi 
 culties so clearly before me I doubted, and was 
 miserable. But ever her voice called to me, as 
 on that day when it had called to me from her 
 carriage, and her azure eyes beckoned to me as 
 then. Where their light led I must follow. 
 
 Thus I walked the deck, the salt mist in my 
 face, but unmindful of its sting. When at last 
 I went below, at the captain's repeated urging, 
 the cabin was deserted by all save Jerome, who, 
 worn out with waiting for me, had fallen asleep, 
 with his head on the little table. 
 
 Though I was on deck again at an early hour I 
 found Captain Quinby there before me. The sun 
 had risen, and the mist seemed breaking away. 
 
 "It will burn off in a little while," he an 
 nounced. 
 
 209
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 As if to prove his words, the sun broke 
 through the mist shortly, a globe of burning 
 copper set in a frame of pearly gray. 
 
 At our late breakfast Mrs. Randolph an 
 nounced a change in our plans. 
 
 "We're going to Camden," she said, "instead 
 of to Yarmouth." 
 
 "Maine is United States territory, I believe," 
 I answered, recalling her words of the night 
 before to the captain. 
 
 "Very true. But Camden is a long distance 
 from York Harbor. Mr. Lane will return to 
 New York and drop his foolish attack; I am 
 sure of that, since I have had time to think it 
 over. For that reason Mr. Jepson will not 
 come to Camden. We can be quite safe and 
 quiet there for as long as we wish to stay. I've 
 thought it all over, and I'm sure it is best for us 
 to go there. It won't seem so much as if we 
 had run away, for one thing." 
 
 She gave me a look of inquiry as she con 
 cluded. She wore the blue linen again, which 
 I had thought so becoming. Her color was 
 better than the evening before; or perhaps that 
 was the effect of the blue linen and daylight. 
 A man judges such things poorly. She was 
 always beautiful, whatever she wore. 
 
 "He will never drop it," I declared, thinking 
 
 210
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 of Lane; "for he knows that unless he crushes 
 me I shall crush him." 
 
 "But you are to drop your attack on him, 
 also, and call off your New York detective," 
 she surprised me by saying. 
 
 "You would pay him something to drop it ?" 
 I asked, ready to oppose this new plan. 
 
 "I didn't say that, Julian." 
 
 She frowned. Strange that a few lines drawn 
 in a smooth brow and the gathering of threaten 
 ing threads of disapproval at the corners of a 
 pair of blue eyes should have such power to 
 crush a man's rebellious spirit! 
 
 "I see objections to your plan," I urged 
 weakly. 
 
 "Of course we can't tell just what we shall 
 do, until after we reach Camden and get in com 
 munication with New York," she compromised, 
 for my benefit I was sure. "But this fleeing 
 like a wolf in the night isn't to my fancy." 
 
 "Fleeing like a dogfish, you mean," said 
 Miss Hansborough. 
 
 So we turned to Camden, the spot where 
 Julian Randolph, stumbling down to his boat 
 in the darkness, had tumbled into the water 
 and was drowned. I didn't like the thought of 
 it. Of all places, Camden was the last I should 
 have chosen to visit at this time. But Mrs. 
 
 211
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Randolph had her hand on the wheel of affairs 
 and was showing a spirit of imperious deter 
 mination I had not known she possessed. But 
 withal my passionate love was in no wise 
 abated; I think I loved her better because of 
 that quality of strength. 
 
 We crowded to the rail as we steamed into 
 the little harbor of Camden-by-the-Sea. The 
 fog was gone, the sun shone bright on the water, 
 whitecaps tossed about us. The little town 
 crescenting the harbor, Negro Island and its 
 lighthouse at the entrance, with the mountains, 
 Megunticook and Battie, dominating all, made 
 a pretty picture. 
 
 I saw Miss Hansborough point out to Benson 
 The Poplars. It shone white on the slopes of 
 Mount Battie, to the right of the town, over 
 looking the harbor, and the bay and its distant 
 blue islands. I asked Mrs. Randolph for the 
 glasses she had been using, and scrutinized the 
 big house with its double line of tall poplars 
 shading the wide avenue that led up to it. 
 
 In that house, I had been told, Julian Ran 
 dolph had lived with the woman who now stood 
 beside me. From it he had gone that dark 
 night to his death in the sea. Far off on the 
 right, but not visible, was the Lincolnville 
 
 O ' 
 
 beach, where his body had been found. I con- 
 
 212
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 fess it gave me a queer feeling, and one not 
 pleasant. It emphasized my hypocrisy gave 
 to my duplicity a deeper shade. Nor could I 
 get ease of conscience by reflecting that Mrs. 
 Randolph knew.- For she had persistently re 
 fused to accept my declaration that I was not 
 her husband. 
 
 As I looked at that house, the startling 
 thought of what it would mean if the real 
 Julian Randolph should reappear there sud 
 denly came to terrify me. Strangely enough I 
 had not much considered that possibility. He 
 might still be alive somewhere; he might have 
 had some cause for leaving mysteriously, of 
 which I had never heard and of which Mrs. 
 Randolph herself had not known. She had 
 never really believed him dead; and it was 
 because of that lack of belief that she had 
 accepted me as the man himself, returned to 
 her. And he might return suddenly, to con 
 front and confound me. Stranger things than 
 that have happened are happening every day. 
 My hands trembled as I put down the glasses. 
 
 While we steamed slowly in, round Negro 
 Island, Mrs. Randolph began to point out sights 
 and views that, if I were Julian Randolph, 
 ought to have been as familiar to me as to her. 
 She persistently avoided mention of that death 
 
 213
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 tumble into the sea off those wharves. It was 
 a singular situation. 
 
 There were a few small yachts near us, as 
 our anchor plunged into the water and we 
 swung round in the stream of the tide. Their 
 occupants evinced curiosity, and a few people 
 began to gather on shore to look at us, for the 
 Idler was not only a beautiful yacht, but was 
 really large and palatial compared with the 
 others. 
 
 I watched the shore anxiously, half expecting 
 to see Lane and Jepson there. When I did not 
 I breathed more freely, and went ashore with 
 Mrs. Randolph. We were accompanied by 
 Miss Hansborough and Jack Benson, and by 
 Jerome and Lizette. 
 
 Benson bade us good by now, and caught 
 the first train out of Rockland for Boston. 
 
 The Poplars not being ready for occupancy, 
 we were driven to the Bay View Hotel, where 
 as soon as possible we got in telegraphic com 
 munication with New York and repeated some 
 of the messages sent from York Harbor. I now 
 succeeded in waking up my exasperating and 
 dilatory detective. 
 
 " Been absent and sick. Will push matters. 
 
 ASBURY RAND." 
 
 214
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 I sent him a tropical reply, asking him why 
 his office force had not gone right on with 
 the work. No answer came to this. Mrs. 
 Randolph was averse to my sending these tele 
 grams. 
 
 Later I consulted a Camden lawyer, laid 
 before him as much of the case as I thought 
 he ought to know for his guidance, and en 
 gaged him in the event of need to defend me 
 in the local courts. I found that he already 
 knew all about me, or as much as the news 
 papers had told. They had guessed at a great 
 many things; hence his information was more 
 satisfactory to himself than reliable. 
 
 When the auto-car was landed and brought 
 round to the hotel we went out to the cottage 
 on the slopes of Mount Battie. It was a pala 
 tial summer house, with others of its kind 
 near by. 
 
 The next day we were occupying it. A few 
 servants had been brought on the Idler, some 
 had been procured in the town, and still others 
 were hurrying on from New York and Newport. 
 The yacht swung at anchor in the harbor, and 
 the automobile was installed in its garage. 
 Jerome kept inquisitive people at bay, and 
 Courtney Lane and Jepson had apparently dis 
 appeared from the face of the earth. 
 
 215
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Yet I was ill at ease. I could not talk 
 much with Captain Quinby, except in a gen 
 eral way, though I smoked many cigars with 
 him and heard all of his best stories. Miss 
 Hansborough was caught up in the golfing set 
 and was out on the links most of the time. 
 So, although I ought to have been happy, with 
 an abundance of leisure to spend in the society 
 of the loveliest woman I had ever known, I 
 was a prey to wearing anxiety. I could not 
 escape from that new fear which the thought of 
 the possible return of the real Julian Randolph 
 had brought me. 
 
 Sitting in the cool shade of the wide piazza 
 facing the sea, while Mrs. Randolph read to 
 me in her soothing voice and I smoked and 
 lounged with attempted laziness, the afternoon 
 sun brightening the bay and shining hot on the 
 slopes of the mountains, a sudden fear would 
 shake me at sight of a man turning into the 
 avenue of poplars and coming on with quick 
 steps toward the house. On one such occasion, 
 so strong was the conviction that this man was 
 Julian Randolph, that I actually jumped to my 
 feet, dropping my cigar, which rolled slowly off 
 the piazza into the grass and lay there emitting 
 protesting smoke spirals. 
 
 And so I watched and waited, thinking of 
 
 216
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH IN COMMAND 
 
 Julian Randolph, and of Lane and Jepson, and 
 expecting constantly a bolt out of the blue. As 
 I remember the time, it had its delights, its 
 deep joys, its moments of intoxicating rapture; 
 but I knew that it could not last. 
 
 217
 
 XX 
 
 A DECLARATION OF WAR 
 
 I HAD not been long in Camden-by-the-Sea 
 before I discovered that I was inordinately 
 fond of automobiling. Many thousands of 
 men were discovering the same thing for them 
 selves at the same time, and no doubt to all of 
 them it was as delightful a discovery as it was 
 to me. As soon as I had mastered the intri 
 cacies of the big machine I set the chauffeur 
 aside, and drove forth alone, or with Mrs. Ran 
 dolph or Jerome. 
 
 I began to learn, also, in those days, how 
 pleasant a thing it is to be in the possession 
 and enjoyment of wealth. True, I had for my 
 very own but the scant two hundred dollars 
 that had been in my pocket when I entered 
 Mrs. Randolph's carriage in New York. I had 
 used little of it. I desired to hoard it against 
 a day of need. But I required no money. 
 Mrs. Randolph's Purse of Fortunatus showered 
 me with everything, without my asking. It 
 provided the house, the automobile, the yacht, 
 the servants, Jerome and the chauffeur; its re- 
 
 218
 
 A DECLARATION OF WAR 
 
 sources were unstinted and apparently unlim 
 ited. Money had been offered me several times; 
 I had refused it, and tried to feel ease of con 
 science in my fancied Spartan virtue. 
 
 The freedom from financial care which money 
 brings was thus impressed on my mind. I had 
 lived a hard life in that school in Philadelphia, 
 for the pay of an instructor there was small. 
 I did not doubr that one of Mrs. Randolph's 
 dresses, though they seemed so elegantly simple, 
 if I may use the term, cost more than such an 
 instructor received for a whole year of perplex 
 ing and wearing toil. Anxiety, lest illness come, 
 or loss of position, and the money fail, together 
 with the inability to get even a few dollars 
 ahead of the grinding needs of the present, it 
 is that which eats the heart out of the toiler and 
 the poor. As we steamed into Camden one of 
 the stokers had come up for a breath of air, 
 out of the hot stoke-hole where, while we fled 
 over the seas, he had been laboring in a heat' 
 so great that the very color seemed to have 
 been washed out of his face. He looked at the 
 mountains, cool-topped before him. I fancied 
 I knew the thought of his heart. Freedom from 
 grinding toil! Such freedom money brings. I 
 wonder less that men worship it than that they 
 do not worship it more. 
 
 219
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 The love of ease and the things that money 
 can supply so lavishly I found growing in me. 
 The world is beautiful in Maine, in June. It 
 was money (which might be mine if I willed) 
 that enabled me to enjoy the glory of the sunset 
 from the mountain top, and the surpassing 
 beauty of the sea, with its circling gulls, its 
 impurpled islands, and the flashing sails of the 
 schooners, deep-laden with lumber from the 
 mills of Bangor. It was money (and it might 
 be mine if I willed) which placed at my disposal 
 that auto-car in which I flashed over the moun 
 tain curves and along that charming, sea-girt 
 highway called the Belfast Road. 
 
 And often when alone with these things weigh 
 ing on me the temptation to accept the situation, 
 to say irrevocably that I was Julian Randolphand 
 none other, assailed me. By yielding I should 
 gain wealth; above all, I should gain the most 
 beautiful, the most charming, the most lovable 
 of women for my wife. Sometimes the seductive 
 thought intoxicated and almost unmanned me. 
 Yet always something rose within me in protest. 
 I could not do it. I did not believe I was better 
 than other men; I believed I was worse; daily 
 I anathematized my villany and the slothful de 
 sires that I felt were eating out my manhood 
 and stifling my conscience. 
 
 220
 
 A DECLARATION OF WAR 
 
 Then came a startling awakening. 
 
 I had been out in the automobile on the 
 Belfast Road, and was returning. The auto 
 was running slowly; the road, skirting the bay, 
 gives alluring views that change with each turn. 
 Not far ahead, on the right, the summer cot 
 tages brightened the slopes of the mountain. 
 My thoughts were with the blue islands, with 
 the white sails limned against wave and sky, but 
 principally with Mrs. Randolph. I had asked 
 her to accompany me that afternoon, as I always 
 did, but she had urged a headache and declined. 
 
 Thoughts of her were beginning to exclude 
 all other thoughts, when I heard a familiar 
 voice, as in challenge, and looking up I saw 
 Courtney Lane. He stood before me in the 
 road, and had hailed me. At sight of him my 
 blood boiled and my mind became homicidal. 
 The impulse was strong in me to dash over 
 him, hurl him to the ground, pulverize him 
 under the heavy wheels, and leave him a bleed 
 ing corpse in the highway. 
 
 "Get out of my way!" I shouted in a passion. 
 
 "Just a word with you!" he said, his hand 
 raised. 
 
 "Get out of my way!" I shouted again. 
 "You villain, I'll run you down if you don't 
 get out of my way!" 
 
 221
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 He did not move, and I swerved the car to 
 pass him. As I did so he struck the auto with 
 a quick jump and before I could do anything 
 to prevent he was in beside me. 
 
 "I want a talk with you, out here where we 
 shall be unmolested," he said coolly, dropping 
 into the seat. 
 
 His assurance was monumental. My hands 
 were on the steering wheel, but my eyes glared 
 at him. He was young, and strong and mus 
 cular as that jump showed. His steely blue 
 eyes looked into mine. His business suit of 
 brown and his brown derby hat were pearly 
 with the gray powder of road dust. 
 
 "You can't frighten me," he said, and I 
 thought his thin-moustached upper lip lifted in 
 a sneer, or a snarl. "I'm resolved to have a 
 talk with you. I've come all the way from 
 New York for that purpose. If you won't talk 
 with me here, you will talk with me in the 
 town, or even before witnesses. You had bet 
 ter let me say here what I've got to say." 
 
 I sank back against the cushions, trembling 
 with rage and weakness. 
 
 "Well, what is it ?" I demanded. 
 
 "Don't you think the time has come for you 
 to drop this ?" 
 
 "Drop what?" I asked. 
 
 222
 
 A DECLARATION OF WAR 
 
 "What you're doing this stupendous game 
 of fraud, by which you are making Mrs. 
 Randolph believe that you are her husband. 
 I think you have hypnotized her, for it is in 
 conceivable otherwise that she should think so 
 for a minute. For you know that I know who 
 you are. Why continue it?" 
 
 The big auto-car was zigzagging from side to 
 side of the road, for my fingers were nerveless, 
 and my eyes were fixed on his face rather than 
 on the highway. 
 
 "You have no right to question me," I 
 said, "as to what I do or don't do. I know you 
 for a swindling villain, who to save himself from 
 exposure has tried to have me arrested, and " 
 
 "What's the use ?" he said, and he threw out 
 his hand in a protesting gesture. "You can't 
 continue this game, and you ought to know it. 
 I've got all the proofs against you I want, or 
 need." 
 
 "Then why don't you use them?" I cried 
 defiantly. 
 
 "I have delayed for the sake of Mrs. Ran 
 dolph. That is the only reason. I went faster 
 at York Harbor and in New York than I 
 should have done. I recognized that, when 
 she appealed to me, and dropped out of the 
 game. But I'm back now, and in a position to 
 
 223
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 show up your duplicity in a way that will make 
 the world stare. It rests with you whether I 
 expose you and publicly pillory you or not. 
 You pretend to care for Mrs. Randolph." 
 
 "Don't sully her name by speaking it!" I 
 shouted at him, in suffocating rage. 
 
 "I think I have shown far more regard for 
 her good name than you have. It will be as 
 sailed by every gossip, if you force me to give 
 my knowledge of you to the world. I want to 
 shield her from the publicity of that." 
 
 "Why are you so interested in Mrs. Ran 
 dolph?" I flashed at him. 
 
 "I was employed by her to look after her 
 business interests, and merely as a matter of 
 friendship I think I should " 
 
 "You are in love with her! You want to 
 marry her!" 
 
 "She is a very charming woman," he said, 
 smiling at my heat. 
 
 He caught my arm, for I was steering blindly. 
 
 "You'll be into that wall in a minute!" 
 
 I shook off his hand. 
 
 "Don't touch me!" I shouted. "I didn't 
 invite you into this auto, and I won't listen to 
 your nonsense." 
 
 "See here!" He lowered his voice. "Are 
 you going to compel me to do this thing ? I ask 
 
 224
 
 A DECLARATION OF WAR 
 
 you to think of Mrs. Randolph. You pretend 
 that you care for her. I know that you are not 
 her husband. Your resemblance to " 
 
 "You never saw Julian Randolph!" 
 
 "No. And I do not see him now, when I look 
 at you. Now there is a woman at the hotel down 
 here; she is from Philadelphia, and from that 
 school where you were an instructor. She is Mrs. 
 Trencher. Ah! I see that you remember her!" 
 
 I remembered her. Mrs. Trencher was ma 
 tron of that school. 
 
 "I have asked her to come here, to identify 
 you. She will be able to see you in the streets, 
 or somewhere, even if you refuse to see her, and 
 she will know that you are Louis Armitage. It 
 is my intention to introduce her to Mrs. Ran 
 dolph and have her acquaint Mrs. Randolph 
 with her discovery." 
 
 Against myself I felt a rush of sudden anger, 
 realizing that my face had shown fear. Then 
 that anger flamed out against Lane, and I de 
 nounced him with weak and foolish vehemence. 
 
 He leaned back against the cushions smiling, 
 and as if to show his utter contempt of me he 
 took out a box of cigarettes, coolly selected one, 
 set it between his teeth, and lighted it. 
 
 "What do you say ?" he asked, as the smoke 
 drifted through his thin nostrils. 
 
 225
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "That you're a scoundrel; that you're a " 
 
 " But about this other matter ? What do you 
 say about that ? Why not confess to Mrs. Ran 
 dolph that you have deceived her ? You can 
 let yourself down as easily as possible. Then 
 get out of the country, and permit her to make 
 whatever explanations she sees fit. It's the 
 sensible way. And it's the only safe way, for 
 you." 
 
 "You are through ?" I said, when he stopped. 
 
 My voice trembled. 
 
 "Yes; I'm through, for the present." 
 
 He was insufferably cool. 
 
 "You have undertaken this thing " 
 
 "To unmask a villain!" he interrupted, with 
 biting emphasis. 
 
 "You have undertaken it because you dis 
 covered that I intended to expose you, and 
 prosecute you for swindling my wife while pro 
 fessing to conduct her financial affairs." 
 
 "Your wife! That's good!" He took the 
 cigarette from between his lips and looked at it 
 incuriously. "Yes, that's good fine. You 
 would do for a hero of melodrama." 
 
 "No jesting," I said, angrily. "I mean what 
 I say." 
 
 "And I beg you to believe that I mean what 
 I say." 
 
 226
 
 A DECLARATION OF WAR 
 
 "I intend to put you in Sing Sing. When I 
 start at that the world will understand how dis 
 interested you are, no matter what you may 
 profess or try to prove against me." 
 
 My words sounded bold enough, yet I had 
 never felt my position to be so weak. He seemed 
 to realize it, and laughed contemptuously. 
 
 "Your threats don't trouble me," he said. 
 "I have conducted Mrs. Randolph's financial 
 affairs just as if they were my own." 
 
 "I don't doubt it!" I cried. But he ignored 
 the sarcasm. 
 
 "You don't intend to admit your iniquity?" 
 he said. 
 
 "I have nothing to admit," I hurled back at 
 him, "and I defy you!" 
 
 He made a gesture of disdain, with the cigar 
 ette held in his fingers. 
 
 Slowly as the auto-car had moved, we were 
 in the street below The Poplars. He glanced 
 up at the house and tossed the cigarette away. 
 
 "That's your final word, is it ?" he asked. 
 
 "My final word is, that I defy you, and will 
 put you through!" I declared. "And if you 
 call at The Poplars to make trouble I'll have 
 the servants throw you out." 
 
 "You won't go down to the hotel and see 
 Mrs. Trencher?" 
 
 227
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 " Certainly not. Why should I ? I don't know 
 her." 
 
 "But she knows you!" 
 
 The automobile came to a stop. 
 
 "I'll give you twenty-four hours to think it 
 over," he said, reluctant to drop it thus. His 
 tone was conciliatory. "I ask you to come 
 down to the Bay View and see Mrs. Trencher." 
 
 "Will you get out of this auto," I shouted, 
 "or shall I throw you out ?" 
 
 He began to get out with tantalizing slowness, 
 when I started the car with a jerk, and he came 
 near falling. He turned toward me, white- 
 faced and panting, as I steered toward the 
 avenue of poplars. 
 
 "That's all right," he said, an unpleasant 
 light in his cold blue eyes. "If you want war 
 you can have it." 
 
 228
 
 XXI 
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 THAT afternoon I told Mrs. Randolph of 
 my encounter with Courtney Lane. She 
 was surprised, for she had not known he 
 had arrived in Camden. 
 
 "I shall have to see him," she said. 
 
 Miss Hansborough came into the room while 
 we were talking. She wore a golfing suit of 
 gray and had just returned from the links. 
 
 "That odious Mrs. Trencher is in town," she 
 announced with a frown of displeasure. "I met 
 her awhile ago, and of course I had to ask her to 
 call." 
 
 They were acquainted with Mrs. Trencher! 
 Mrs. Randolph was undisturbed by the announce 
 ment and by my quick scrutiny of her face. 
 
 "I knew she was here," she said serenely. 
 " Julian has been telling me. He met Courtney 
 Lane awhile ago. She and Mr. Lane are at 
 the same hotel." 
 
 "Why is it that unpleasant people always 
 appear when they are not wanted ?" said Miss 
 Hansborough indignantly. 
 
 229
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "I suppose it's because, being never wanted, 
 it is impossible for them to appear when they 
 are wanted," was Mrs. Randolph's irrefutable 
 reply. 
 
 "Where did you know Mrs. Trencher?" I 
 asked her as soon as I found opportunity. 
 
 " In New York, two winters ago." 
 
 " She is not in society not in your circle, 
 I mean ?" 
 
 "No; she was engaged in chanty work, and 
 Margaret and I were thrown in with her on a 
 church commission. She was very presuming, 
 and we didn't encourage her." 
 
 "It seems to me she is very presuming now." 
 
 That Mrs. Trencher was a very presuming 
 woman she proved, when she came to me on 
 the street, the next morning. I had sent Jerome 
 ahead of me to the post office; and as he delayed 
 unduly and I was anxious to see the mail I 
 walked on into the town, guarding warily against 
 a meeting with Courtney Lane. Mrs. Trencher 
 had been lying in wait for me in a little periodi 
 cal store more than two blocks from the post 
 office, and popped out on me with disconcerting 
 suddenness. 
 
 "I was just thinking of you," she said; and 
 I did not doubt it. 
 
 She wrinkled her face in what she meant for 
 
 230
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 a honeyed smile. She was a little woman, 
 middle-aged, alert, aggressive, and behind the 
 glasses which she wore with a certain dignity 
 her black eyes snapped. I recalled how she had 
 bounced the boys of that school about when she 
 was angry, and how at such times her black 
 eyes opened until they showed circles of white. 
 But the eyes were benevolent now, almost 
 motherly. 
 
 "I've just been thinking of you," she re 
 peated, " and saying to myself that if it wasn't 
 so early in the day I'd call on you. You left 
 Philadelphia so suddenly, you know, that I 
 didn't get to have a talk with you before you 
 went." 
 
 "Confound Jerome!" I thought, as I glanced 
 along the street and failed to see him. 
 
 "I think I don't understand you," I said, 
 giving her as blank a stare as I could. 
 
 "When you left the Gilbert Porter Institute, 
 you know," she explained blandly. 
 
 "I fear, Madam, that I do not know what 
 you mean," I declared. "I have not been in 
 Philadelphia recently." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 She was so amazed that the exclamation was 
 shocked out of her. Her eyes opened in the 
 old way and began to shine. 
 
 231
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Do you pretend ''' 
 
 "I pretend nothing, Madam!" I said, stiffly. 
 "I am sure I don't know you. This must be 
 an attempt at some confidence game." 
 
 I glanced along the street again. Thank 
 Heavens, Jerome was in sight! 
 
 "Ah, there comes my valet!" I said, with too 
 evident relief. "You will please excuse me, 
 Madam, and permit me to wish you a very 
 good morning." 
 
 I left her gasping, as I lifted my hat to her 
 and hurried toward Jerome, who had a sheaf 
 of letters in his hands. I took the letters and 
 looked at the addresses. While doing it we 
 passed Mrs. Trencher, who had not yet re 
 gained her ability to speak. But I caught the 
 foreboding gleam of her black eyes. 
 
 That afternoon she called at The Poplars with 
 Courtney Lane. I was out in the auto-car. 
 Jerome told me about it as soon as I returned 
 and ran the car into the garage. His white, 
 English face showed that pinkish flush which I 
 had noted whenever he was moved or excited 
 a flush that gave him, what he lacked, almost 
 the "beef and brawn" color of your typical 
 Englishman. 
 
 "That damned scoundrel from New York ' 
 he began; "I beg your pardon, sir, I mean Mr. 
 
 232
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 Lane! He is in town, sir; and was up here 
 this afternoon." 
 
 Jerome's manner was so explosive that had 
 the subject and the circumstances not been so 
 serious or so personal I could have laughed. 
 He had the indignant air of a man who feels 
 that he is being wrongfully used. I knew at 
 once that I had made a mistake in leaving the 
 house that day. Still, what had I to fear ? 
 
 "He was received?" I said; and I appeared 
 to take the matter quite calmly. 
 
 "Yes, sir. There was a woman with him; 
 a little woman, with black, gimlet eyes, and 
 dressed like a twisted fashion plate." 
 
 It was the best possible description of Mrs. 
 Trencher. 
 
 "They remained long?" 
 
 "At least an hour, sir." 
 
 I began to get out of the automobile. 
 
 "What time was this, Jerome?" 
 
 "Soon after you left, sir." He hesitated, as 
 if he feared he might be considered a tale 
 bearer. "And when they were gone Mrs. 
 Randolph went down town." 
 
 Why he thought it worth while to speak of 
 that was not apparent. Perhaps, like me, his 
 anxieties were making him unduly suspicious. 
 The only surprising thing to me was that 
 
 233
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Mrs. Randolph should have received Courtney 
 Lane. 
 
 When I left the garage Jerome was swearing 
 softly to himself, apparently more uneasy than 
 I was. Mrs. Randolph heard me enter the 
 house, and appeared before me in the large 
 hall, as I was about to mount the stairs. Her 
 face was so white that it startled me; and when 
 she spoke her voice was so strained and unnat 
 ural that it sounded like the voice of another. 
 She was in a dark brown street dress and its 
 color emphasized the corpse-like pallor of her 
 face. 
 
 "I should like to see you a minute," she said. 
 
 She moved toward the door of the reception 
 room. I followed, my heart knocking unpleas 
 antly against my ribs. She stood by the door 
 as I entered, and then she closed it ominously. 
 What she intended to say was for my ears alone. 
 
 "Mr. Lane has been here with Mrs. Trencher, 
 and I have been down to their hotel/* 
 
 She stood before me, her blue eyes big and 
 bright, her voice strange and hard. 
 
 "Yes?" I said, helplessly, wondering what 
 was coming. 
 
 "I heard Mrs. Trencher's story, and I saw 
 the proofs she has, particularly a group photo 
 graph taken a few weeks ago, she assured me. 
 
 234
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 That photograph shows you in a classroom 
 with students. On the wall is a banner, 'The 
 Gilbert Porter Institute.' Do you recall when 
 that photograph was taken ?" 
 
 Her changed manner filled me with terror. 
 Her voice that low, soft voice had as 
 sumed knife-like qualities. 
 
 "I recall it," I admitted. 
 
 "You knew Mrs. Trencher, in that school ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then" 
 
 "I am afraid I do not understand you," I 
 interrupted. "I have already confessed to you 
 in effect that all those things are true; and I 
 have told you that I am not your husband, not 
 Julian Randolph, not " 
 
 She swayed with weakness; but as I moved 
 toward her she waved me back. 
 
 "Yet I believed was sure all along that 
 you were my husband. I refused to think any 
 thing else. I shut my eyes against the possibility 
 that you were not. For you are his his living 
 image. Yet I know now that I was deceived." 
 
 She stretched out her hand toward the door, 
 as if to open it and bid me begone; but her 
 hand paused and clutched at her heart. 
 
 I sprang to her side. 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph," I began. 
 
 235
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 " Don't ! Don't ! " she moaned, trying to push 
 me away. "Don't touch me!" 
 
 "But, Mrs. Randolph!" 
 
 "I don't wish you to speak to me again." 
 
 " But I will speak to you; you must hear me!" 
 
 I caught her hand it trembled violently; 
 I carried it to my lips. 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph," I cried, in a tremor of 
 excitement, overwhelmed by her changed atti 
 tude, "I must speak to you; I must make my 
 self clear. It is not my fault that you believed 
 me Julian Randolph. You will bear witness to 
 that. More than once I have declared to 
 you " 
 
 "But I I thought" 
 
 "I loved you!" I cried. "I loved you madly, 
 insanely; I loved you from the hour in which 
 I first met you. I was not your husband, but 
 I resolved to become your husband. I have 
 tried to conduct myself honorably, and " 
 
 She drew back, trembling. 
 
 "Is this the conduct of an honorable man ?" 
 
 "But I explained to you," I urged; "on the 
 Idler, you will remember, and at other times, 
 I explained everything to you. I told you this 
 that I was not your husband, but that I 
 desired to become your husband. I declared 
 my love; I " 
 
 236
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 "Fool fool that I have been!" 
 
 "Hear me, Mrs. Randolph, for the sake of 
 the great love with which I love you. That 
 love has made me " 
 
 "True love does not make a man a villain!" 
 
 " But it may cause him to do things which " 
 
 "Spare me!" she begged. "This this is 
 too painful." I saw tears in her eyes. "Spare 
 me!" 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph!" 
 
 "You must not stay here another day, not 
 another hour." 
 
 "But, Mrs. Randolph!" I chattered. 
 
 "You must go!" 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph, I can't leave you." 
 
 "You must go," she said, inexorably. 
 
 She was reeling with weakness. It was cruel, 
 I saw, to continue my appeals. 
 
 "I will go," I said, "since you wish it. But 
 I shall not leave you. I love you so much that 
 it is impossible for me to leave you. I shall not 
 trouble you, but I shall be near you. If you 
 will see me some time I will contrive an oppor 
 tunity. You will see me some time?" 
 
 "Go! Go!" she said. And now the tears 
 streamed down her cheeks. "Oh, my God, I 
 can't stand this!" 
 
 I opened the door blindly and dashed like 
 
 237
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 a madman from the room. I paused at the foot 
 of the stairs, checking my wild impulse to rush 
 out of the house. I was not even entitled to 
 wear the clothing I had on! The thought 
 caused me to hasten to the rooms I had grown 
 accustomed to calling mine. There I began to 
 change into the clothing I had worn when I 
 first met Mrs. Randolph. As I made the hur 
 ried change, how villanous seemed the fact 
 that I had donned and worn with placidity the 
 clothing of Julian Randolph. I was not able 
 to heap on myself sufficient obloquy. 
 
 As I tossed my clothing about, dragging it 
 from closet and dresser drawers, I saw the 
 shining revolver with which I had fired on Jep- 
 son's boat Julian Randolph's revolver. It 
 lay where I had placed it after our arrival here, 
 and it was loaded. How like rhodomontade 
 and cheapest fustian seemed now my talk to 
 Jepson. I was but a tinsel hero after all. And 
 now I had reached the end. 
 
 I stared at that revolver, where it beckoned 
 me. Here was a quick exit! A pull of that 
 trigger, a flash, and I should be out of it. For 
 a moment I trembled under the force of that 
 horrid temptation. Then I pushed the revolver 
 further into the drawer, tucking it out of sight. 
 No, I could not do that. It was a coward's 
 
 238
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 weapon; and its use in that manner would sub 
 ject Mrs. Randolph to most unpleasant noto 
 riety. She had already been the unwilling 
 recipient of too much of that, poor woman! 
 
 Then I fled from the house, taking only the 
 things I had brought with me. I did not even 
 pen a parting note. What was the use ? Yet 
 I lingered a little in the big hall, hoping again to 
 see her. No one appeared, not even a servant; 
 and I let myself quietly out by the front door. 
 
 Jerome was in the garage, talking with the 
 chauffeur; I heard their voices. If Jerome had 
 been alone I might have spoken to him a word 
 of farewell. I passed on down the avenue of 
 poplars; and as I could not make up my mind 
 to turn toward the town I walked quickly in the 
 other direction, and was soon again in the Bel 
 fast Road. 
 
 Having no definite plan and nothing but 
 chaos in my mind and inconceivable anguish in 
 my heart, I strode along, without any objective 
 point. The blue sea and the blue islands no 
 longer allured me; I was blind to the beauty 
 of the mountain views; the roadside flowers had 
 lost their power to charm. 
 
 I walked until I was well-nigh exhausted. 
 Yet when I sought to stop and rest I could not; 
 I felt that I must be moving. But the wild 
 
 239
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 impulse that spurred me began to pass by and 
 by. I had sought to hurry away, to what point 
 did not matter. Now I began to see that I 
 could not put distance between myself and the 
 woman I loved. 
 
 So I turned round at last, and walked more 
 slowly back toward the town. This, at a sharp 
 turn of the road, brought in view an automobile 
 which for some time I had heard. Violent rage 
 seized me when I saw that of the two men in it 
 one was Courtney Lane. Had he been follow 
 ing me ? If so for what purpose ? I stopped 
 stock still in the road, so amazed and enraged 
 was I. 
 
 The automobile, which had been merely 
 dawdling, shot by me in a cloud of dust. 
 When it had disappeared I plodded on. Yet 
 once again I saw it, returning, behind me, as I 
 entered the town. This act on the part of 
 Courtney Lane had all the indices of an at 
 tempt to spy on my movements. 
 
 When I came into the street below The Pop 
 lars a feverish desire to see Mrs. Randolph again 
 took such possession of me that I turned into the 
 shaded avenue and went on up to the house. 
 I stood in hesitation before the door a full 
 minute; then rang the bell. The maid who 
 answered my ring had been weeping, and she
 
 THE BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 stared at me in a way that was not pleasant. 
 Perhaps her mistress had been weeping, I 
 thought, over the downfall of her belief in me. 
 I presume I might have passed on into the 
 house without question; instead I asked for 
 Mrs. Randolph. 
 
 "She is not in." 
 
 "Not in to me, you mean ?" I said, with the 
 peculiar sensation of having been struck a blow 
 in the face. 
 
 "No; she is not in." 
 
 "Could I see Miss Hansborough then?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "She is not in." 
 
 "I think I heard her voice as I came up the 
 walk," I insisted. 
 
 "No; she is not in!" 
 
 I turned in a daze from the door, stumbled 
 down the path into the poplar-lined avenue, and 
 out into the street; then walked on toward the 
 town. As I did so Courtney Lane and his 
 companion whirled past me in their automobile, 
 thus preceding me. 
 
 241
 
 XXII 
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 MY anxiety to see Mrs. Randolph was 
 not abated. Nor did I intend to give 
 up my fight against Lane. Yet cour 
 age and determination came back to me but 
 slowly. After some aimless wanderings I went 
 to a hotel, avoiding the one where Lane was 
 stopping. There I passed a wretched night. 
 
 In the morning, as I walked toward the post 
 office, I saw Lane parting company with a man 
 who had just stepped aboard the trolley car. 
 The man was Doctor Thompson. A swift sus 
 picion rose in my mind and the sight caused me 
 to halt. I was sure that Lane had brought him 
 to Camden with Mrs. Trencher, and had used 
 them both against me with Mrs. Randolph. 
 Having apparently completed his work against 
 me, the doctor was now on his way to Rock- 
 land, I was sure, to take the early train there for 
 New York. 
 
 I avoided Lane as I went on. I could not 
 trust myself to meet him face to face, and I did 
 not wish a scene in the streets. When I re- 
 
 242
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 turned to the hotel I secluded myself, fearing I 
 could do nothing while he was in town. Yet 
 I sent another telegram to Asbury Rand, whose 
 inactivity had exhausted my patience. I had 
 spent a feverish and restless night, and was now 
 weak and really ill. 
 
 Along in the afternoon, when I was on the 
 point of setting out for The Poplars, being deter 
 mined to see Mrs. Randolph again even if I had 
 to get into the house by walking in past the ser 
 vant, there was a rap on the door. 
 
 "Come in!" I said, feeling too tired to rise 
 from my chair. I thought it was the bell-boy. 
 
 When the door opened, the oblong, white 
 face of Jerome appeared. 
 
 "May I come in ?" he said timidly. 
 
 I jumped to my feet. 
 
 "Certainly," I cried; "delighted to see you!" 
 
 He came in cautiously, without enthusiasm, 
 and closed the door softly behind him. 
 
 " I have left my dress-suit case and the trunk 
 down-stairs," he said, enigmatically. 
 
 He sat down in the chair I pointed out, passed 
 his long white hand nervously across his smooth 
 chin, and carefully drew up his trousers that the 
 knife-like creases might not be taken out of 
 them. He was always particular about the 
 appearance of his clothing. I wanted to in- 
 
 243
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 quire concerning Mrs. Randolph and affairs at 
 The Poplars, but his manner puzzled me into 
 delay. 
 
 "I have resolved to stay with you, sir!" he 
 declared, with an air of mild and resigned 
 determination. 
 
 The generosity and kindness of the fellow 
 fairly overwhelmed me. 
 
 "But, Jerome," I expostulated, "I can't 
 afford to keep a valet now. You understand 
 what has happened, I see. And you must know 
 that I am practically penniless, and have no 
 income whatever at present." 
 
 "Yes, sir, I understand," he said. 
 
 "So you see how impossible your idea is. It 
 is very kind of you; I can't tell you how I appre 
 ciate it. But you see how impossible it is." 
 
 "I shall not ask any salary, sir," he said, 
 thus making me perceive how much in earnest 
 he was. 
 
 My heart warmed toward him. I had always 
 liked Jerome he was such a model servant; 
 and here he was showing qualities of faithful 
 ness of which I had not dreamed. Yet I felt 
 called to protest, and to refuse his offer. 
 
 " Jerome," I said, " even if you should serve 
 me without pay I couldn't do it. I have very 
 little money. It will be as much as I can do to 
 
 244
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 pay my board bill for a while. So I shall have 
 to be my own valet, you see, much as I have 
 valued your services. Mrs. Randolph will still 
 give you employment of some kind, I am sure, 
 and " 
 
 "Mrs. Randolph has left Camden; but it 
 isn't that, sir; it " 
 
 "Left Camden?" 
 
 I fairly leaped from my chair. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Jerome, quite undisturbed; 
 "she and Miss Hansborough, and all of them, 
 sir, left this morning." 
 
 "For what point ?" I asked, trembling. 
 
 "I am not sure, sir, but I think Cambridge. 
 They may have gone to New York; but from 
 what I heard I think it is Cambridge. The ser 
 vants that are left are closing up the house, and 
 will leave this evening." 
 
 I was panic-stricken. 
 
 "The yacht has gone, too, sir; she sailed an 
 hour ago, with the auto on board, and the " 
 
 "Gone!" I cried. And I know I acted for a 
 minute as if all hope had gone, too. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Jerome, with calm resigna 
 tion. 
 
 "I wish I had known this earlier!" 
 
 " I didn't know where you were, sir. I could 
 have gone with them; but, to tell the truth, sir, 
 
 245
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 I didn't want to. I felt that you had been 
 but it is not for me to express an opinion, sir!" 
 
 "Express it!" I commanded. 
 
 "Well, sir, it seemed to me you had been 
 treated badly, and I didn't believe the things I 
 heard. You have always been kind to me, sir, 
 before you went away that time when we 
 that is, I thought you were dead, and since 
 your return." 
 
 Jerome did not credit Lane's statements! 
 He believed in me as Julian Randolph, and 
 now that I was under a cloud he had decided 
 to stand by me, in spite of what it might mean 
 to him. Yet the fact that he believed me to be 
 Julian Randolph, his old master, stung me. I 
 felt humiliated and self-reproachful. 
 
 "Jerome," I said, "you overwhelm me with 
 your kindness. I can never repay you. And I 
 must not let you waste your time with me. 
 You will be acting sensibly if you follow Mrs. 
 Randolph by the first train out of Rockland." 
 
 He was unmoved by this. 
 
 "I want to stay with you, sir," he said, 
 "because I think you will need me. You have 
 not been used to doing things for yourself, sir. 
 When you returned your hair and beard were 
 in a bad condition, if you will pardon my say 
 ing it." 
 
 246
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 "But the money!" 
 
 "I have quite enough, sir," rising to heroic 
 heights; "I have quite enough for myself, and 
 even for you, in case of need. I have long 
 received a good salary, and your generosity was 
 always great, and I am not a spendthrift. I 
 think, sir, if you will pardon me, that you have 
 been wronged, and " 
 
 "I have been damnably wronged by Courtney 
 Lane," I said, bitterly, " and I'll settle with him 
 for it, if it takes me a lifetime!" 
 
 "I should be glad to help you, sir. That is 
 why I stayed, sir, and now offer my services 
 to help you in that." 
 
 "Jerome," I cried, "you are the only gentle 
 man I have met recently. I can't suffer you to 
 serve me as valet, under the conditions, but 
 your friendship and confidence are everything 
 to me. I intend to compass the downfall of 
 Courtney Lane; I know how it is to be done, 
 and I shall yet do it. And I shall " 
 
 I ceased my raving. It was belittling. 
 
 If no man is a hero to his valet, here a valet 
 had become a hero in the eyes of his former 
 employer. Jerome seemed to consider the 
 matter settled, so long as my objections did not 
 take the form of a hostile refusal or an angry 
 ejection. He ordered the dress-suit case and 
 
 247
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 the trunk sent up to the room. It was a large 
 trunk, but Jerome's own property. I found 
 soon, however, that it held principally my own 
 belongings, or the belongings I had considered 
 mine. 
 
 I was to find at once that Jerome was likely 
 to prove invaluable. I sent him to The Poplars, 
 to gather up scraps of news, and especially to 
 discover the present destination of Mrs. Ran 
 dolph; and I asked him to drop in casually at 
 the Bay View and learn what he could of the 
 plans of Courtney Lane. 
 
 When he returned he was able to announce 
 definitely that Mrs. Randolph and her sister 
 had departed for Cambridge; which argued that 
 Miss Hansborough and Jack Benson had come 
 to a better understanding than had seemed to 
 exist between them recently, or else that she 
 desired peace with him rather than war. In 
 addition, Jerome brought the startling news that 
 Courtney Lane had left the Bay View. Pre 
 sumably he, too, had departed from Camden. 
 Naturally, Lane's destination would be New 
 York. Jerome and I alone remained, with the 
 few servants who still delayed at The Poplars. 
 
 "Find out if Lane has positively left town," 
 I ordered. 
 
 "I think he has, sir," was Jerome's opinion. 
 
 248
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 A little later he was able to inform me posi 
 tively that Lane had left Camden, and that in 
 departing he had remarked to the clerk of the 
 Bay View that he was returning to New York. 
 
 "There is a noon train out of Rockland," 
 said Jerome in his report, "and I've no doubt 
 he took that." 
 
 "We will take the train out this evening 
 then/' I announced. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he said; and he began preparations. 
 
 When I went down into the hotel lobby to 
 write a telegram my eyes fell on the man who 
 had been with Courtney Lane in that auto 
 mobile. He was reading a paper, in one of the 
 chairs by the wall, did not look at me, and 
 seemed unaware of my presence. 
 
 My telegram was to a New York detective 
 whose name and address I dug out of the New 
 York City directory which I found in the hotel 
 office. I was tired of the delays of Asbury 
 Rand, and resolved to secure another man, in 
 the hope that he would do something. Before 
 leaving the hotel I received an answer from him, 
 assuring me that he would begin work at once, 
 which raised my hopes somewhat. 
 
 At Rockland, where we took the train that 
 evening, I again saw Courtney Lane's auto 
 mobile companion. I lost sight of him at once, 
 
 249
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 however, and felt a sense of relief; but in the 
 morning I discovered that he had occupied a 
 berth in the same sleeping car. 
 
 The train landed us at the North Station, in 
 Boston, before daylight; there I lost sight of 
 him, and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet when 
 we went over to Cambridge I saw him again, 
 at the Harvard Square transfer station, where 
 he stood, with his hands in his pockets, looking 
 at the newest novels displayed in a bookstore 
 window. It was all mere chance, I felt sure, 
 yet I was unable to drive away a sense of 
 uneasiness. 
 
 We were now in Cambridge, in the very 
 shadow of the University where Jack Benson, 
 so he had declared in jest, had been wrecking his 
 physical system by intense night study and 
 restoring it daily by strenuous baseball exercise. 
 Mrs. Randolph and Miss Hansborough were, 
 we believed, in Cambridge, visiting with a cer 
 tain Mrs. Clarkson Amory, of Brattle Street. 
 They always visited there when they came to 
 Cambridge, Jerome said. We sought a board 
 ing place as near to it as possible; but the one 
 we found was not on Brattle Street, and too 
 far from there to suit me exactly. 
 
 The following morning I again saw Lane's 
 automobile companion in Harvard Square, and 
 
 250
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 shortly afterward encountered Jack Benson near 
 Memorial Hall. I had not yet tried to call on 
 Mrs. Randolph, though I had walked in the 
 darkness with Jerome through quiet Brattle 
 Street and viewed as well as I could the Clark- 
 son Amory residence. My courage was not 
 strong enough to bid me ring the doorbell and 
 seek to see Mrs. Randolph. I meant fully to 
 do that later, perhaps that very day. 
 
 As soon as I saw Benson I hurried toward 
 him and called his name. Jerome was not with 
 me at the time. Benson stopped, and then 
 seemed to hesitate as to whether he should 
 stand his ground or run. 
 
 "Hello, Benson!" I said. "You don't know 
 how glad I am to see you." 
 
 "You here ?" he said, his face reddening. 
 
 He took my hand when I extended it, but 
 his handshake lacked its former heartiness. 
 
 "Yes," I answered. "I'm stopping in Cam 
 bridge now. Great old buildings you have; the 
 genuine college air, and all that, you know. 
 One must fight hard not to absorb wisdom 
 here." I tried to speak jocularly. " I presume 
 a Yale man would admit that it's almost the 
 equal of Yale?" 
 
 His lips compressed and his gray eyes snapped 
 with sudden fire. 
 
 251
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "We're going to hang the scalp of Old Eli 
 in the Crimson wigwam this afternoon," he de 
 clared, smiling, and with fine enthusiasm. 
 
 I had forgotten about that much-talked-of 
 ball game. 
 
 "This afternoon?" I said. "Are you in the 
 game ?" 
 
 "Sure thing!" 
 
 His delight made his eyes shine. 
 
 "Luck fell my way; the greatest ever, for me, 
 but tough for the other fellow. I was short 
 stop, you know. Well, the man who took my 
 place was suspended for professionalism, about 
 the time I got back here. He'd played summer 
 ball, for pay. It was hard to get a good short 
 stop just then, and they couldn't play him; so 
 well, that's how I got on the team again. 
 I wasn't really out of it so very long, you 
 know; just a few days." 
 
 His manner became almost easy, as he re 
 called these things. 
 
 "By the way," I said, "when did you see 
 Miss Hansborough and Mrs. Randolph last ? 
 They are here in Cambridge." 
 
 He had begun to open up, but at that he 
 closed in his shell like a clam. 
 
 He hesitated before answering, then mum 
 bled: 
 
 252
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 "I don't know; that is, I haven't seen 'em 
 lately." 
 
 "You knew they were here ?" 
 
 "Yes; that is I'd heard so. They have 
 just come." 
 
 "You will take Miss Hansborough to see the 
 game, of course ?" 
 
 "Well, yes; I'll that is, I'll see that she goes." 
 
 He looked at his watch, snapping the case 
 open and shut hurriedly. 
 
 "I've got to go," he said. "Wish I could 
 talk longer. But the game, you know " 
 
 He stepped backward, thrusting the watch 
 into his pocket while still speaking, and then 
 turned and fled. Throughout the brief talk his 
 face had been like fire and his manner that of 
 a man being tortured. What did it mean ? It 
 could mean nothing, I was sure, but that Ben 
 son's mind had been poisoned against me; he no 
 longer believed in me, but thought me an impos 
 tor, and desired no further intimacy with me. 
 
 The discovery was depressing. It showed 
 apparently that Mrs. Randolph's attitude toward 
 me had not changed; and I felt that if I should 
 now call on her she would refuse to see me. 
 
 A few minutes later I encountered Jerome, 
 who had set forth to meet me. The faithful 
 fellow was seldom far from me; in truth he 
 
 253
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 followed me about like a dog, was always at 
 hand when I required any service, and stood 
 ready to run any errand for me at any time. 
 My mind was so taken up with the unpleasant 
 change in Jack Benson that I told Jerome 
 about it. 
 
 A Cambridge car passed us bearing on front 
 and rear in big letters notices of the Harvard- 
 Yale game, to be played that afternoon on 
 Soldiers' Field. Those notices inspired Jerome. 
 
 "We can attend the game," he said. "Mr. 
 Benson will furnish tickets for Miss Hans- 
 borough and Mrs. Randolph, of course, and 
 they will sit together in the Harvard seats. If 
 you wish, sir, I might get tickets that would 
 seat us near them?" 
 
 I caught at the suggestion. ^. 
 
 "But it won't be easy to get tickets," I ob 
 jected. "They are issued to students only." 
 
 "They can be got very readily," he said. "I 
 can arrange it, sir." 
 
 " If you really think you could get seats near 
 them?" 
 
 "It can be done, sir. I'll learn from Mr. 
 Benson where the seats are which he has taken." 
 
 "Very good," I said, pleased immensely. 
 
 Returning alone to our rooms, I found there 
 a Western Union messenger boy with a tele- 
 
 254
 
 A HERO TO HIS MASTER 
 
 gram for me. I had left my Cambridge address 
 at the telegraph offices. The telegram had 
 come "Collect," and was addressed to "Julian 
 Randolph." When I tore open the yellow 
 envelope I found a message from the New York 
 detective to whom I had wired from Camden: 
 
 "Rand in pay of Lane from the first. Un 
 able to find proofs you want. Pushing investi 
 gation." 
 
 This was staggering. Asbury Rand in the 
 pay of Courtney Lane from the first! That 
 explained not only his dilatoriness, but why he 
 had done nothing. I saw through it all now; 
 how Lane had even frightened me into that 
 panicky flight on the yacht, by dictating the 
 letters of warning that Rand had sent me, his 
 intention being to scare me into leaving New 
 York and Mrs. Randolph. Heavens! No won 
 der I had been handicapped. He had fairly 
 played with me. I sat down in a daze. 
 
 255
 
 XXIII 
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 WHEN Jerome came in I showed him the 
 telegram, and a copy of the answer I 
 had sent, in which I urged the detec 
 tive to increased effort. 
 
 "The scoundrel!" he said. "But I don't 
 think much of those detectives, sir. Perhaps 
 the new one is no better than Rand." 
 
 "I am sure he must be," I said, trying to 
 rally; "his telegram proves that." 
 
 I was confused, and violently angry as well 
 against both Asbury Rand and Courtney Lane. 
 It was as if they had deliberately set a trap for 
 me. Yet it seemed pure chance which had led 
 me to call on Rand. Stop! Was it? I had 
 found his name in a directory in the house on 
 Fifth Avenue, and I recalled that the page was 
 turned down and a pencil mark set against 
 Rand's name. But there were similar pencil 
 marks set against many names in the directory, 
 and some much more noticeable; so that it did 
 not strike me as significant at the time. Yet 
 now I saw that Rand might have been in the 
 
 256
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 employ of Courtney Lane previously, and that 
 at some time Lane might have suggested his 
 name to Mrs. Randolph; what more likely than 
 when she desired to have search made for her 
 missing husband! 
 
 Jerome had been successful in getting tickets. 
 The seats were in a good position, in the Har 
 vard section, and not far from those which Ben 
 son had secured for Mrs. Randolph and Miss 
 Hansborough. I did not wonder that Miss 
 Hansborough should wish to witness the game, 
 since Benson was to play on the Harvard nine; 
 but that Mrs. Randolph should desire to see it 
 did cause me some surprise. I concluded that 
 she was going at the urgent invitation of her 
 sister, who hoped thus to give her diversion and 
 change of thought. 
 
 Filled with the hope of seeing Mrs. Randolph, 
 even though at a distance, my impatience now 
 became feverish. At my urging we set out 
 early, and arrived early. Yet all the way over 
 from Cambridge to Soldiers' Field, beyond the 
 Charles, we were pushed and jostled by people 
 who hurried as if they feared the game would 
 begin before they could get there. And every 
 car that arrived from Boston ejected still more 
 and more people into the struggling mass of 
 humanity at Harvard Square. The amount of 
 
 257
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 enthusiasm that can be evoked by a day before 
 Class Day ball game played by representatives 
 of two great universities is astonishing. Yet 
 Jerome assured me this was as nothing com 
 pared with the crowds that came to witness a 
 big game of football. 
 
 When we had settled into our seats I observed 
 that there were masses of crimson on our side, 
 and on the other side smaller masses of Yale 
 blue, with traitorous bits of contrary color fleck 
 ing each, and that before us was a kite-shaped 
 diamond, of green-and-dust color, where the 
 Yale players were already engaged in warming- 
 up practice. 
 
 The crimson mass surrounding us writhed 
 and rustled; there was a craning of necks, and 
 a few people stood up, only to draw upon them 
 selves sharp cries of, "Sit down!" 
 
 "There they come!" said Jerome. 
 
 My heart jumped, for naturally I thought he 
 referred to Mrs. Randolph and her sister, whose 
 coming I had been anxiously awaiting. But it 
 was a procession of Harvard undergraduates 
 marching into the field, led by a brass band. 
 
 When they had gallantly cheered Yale they 
 broke up, and the individual members came 
 scampering into the reserved sections. Every 
 where crimson and blue flags and banners were 
 
 258
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 waving, and there was much picturesque cheer 
 ing. 
 
 The heaviest cheering came from a Crimson 
 section before which an old man was slowly 
 driving a donkey and cart. The donkey and 
 the cart were roped with crimson; the old man 
 wore a high beaver hat bearing the Harvard H, 
 a waving crimson sash, a crimson band round 
 his arm, and little crimson flags as boutonnieres. 
 When the cheering was loudest he stood up, 
 waved his beaver, and yelled in a high, cracked 
 voice, "T'ell with Yale!" It was strange, and 
 suggestive, that old John, the Orange Man, and 
 his donkey and little cart, should receive a 
 greater ovation than even those spectacular 
 undergraduates. At sight of the old mascot 
 one young fellow who sat near me and wore a 
 crimson necktie became temporarily a screech 
 ing and purple-faced maniac. 
 
 It takes little to amuse people when they wish 
 to be amused. A small bulldog wearing the 
 Yale colors barked at the marching students, 
 and later kept running round the Yale captain 
 as if to weave about him a success spell. That 
 bulldog was a source of vast enjoyment, and 
 brought cheer after cheer from the Yale sec 
 tions. 
 
 But all of this was insignificant compared 
 
 259
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 with the wild roar which arose when the Har 
 vard nine came trotting into the field with their 
 substitutes, for practice. That roar was inde 
 scribable, deafening, pandemonium-like. Yet 
 I forgot to listen to it, and scarcely heard the 
 crashing of the bands, followed by the barking 
 college cheers, hardly saw the thousands of flags 
 frantically waving, for Jerome had touched my 
 arm, and there, settling into the seats reserved 
 for them, were Mrs. Randolph and her sister, 
 Mrs. Randolph clothed in some soft dark 
 material and Miss Hansborough in a dress of 
 lighter hue, but each with a touch of crimson. 
 
 I became blind temporarily to all other sights, 
 as I watched the face of Mrs. Randolph, a face 
 unnaturally pale, as if from much suffering, yet 
 still to me the most beautiful face in the world. 
 The blue eyes seemed a bit tear-washed, I 
 thought. I was very near her; so near that the 
 close proximity made me tremble. Jerome had 
 chosen his seats well. 
 
 What happened after that for a while I do 
 not know clearly. I did not watch the practice; 
 but later I caught a glimpse of the mummery of 
 John, the Orange Man, blessing the plate for 
 Harvard; and, as the game began, I saw that 
 hundreds of little crimson balloons were released 
 amid tremendous Harvard cheering, and went 
 
 260
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 sailing and bobbing defiantly into the Yale-blue 
 sky, an offering no doubt to the god of baseball 
 battles. 
 
 After that I heard now and then the crack of 
 bat against ball, the yells, and the wild Co- 
 manche chatter of the coachers as they sped a 
 runner from base to base. I heard, too, the 
 songs of the adherents of the Blue and the 
 Crimson as they sought to urge on the contest 
 ing nines, and the college cheering from the 
 sections : 
 
 "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Yale!" 
 
 And the challenge flung back with fierce 
 enthusiasm: 
 
 "Har vard! Har vard! Har vard! 'Rah, 
 'rah, 'rah! Har vard!" 
 
 It was noisy, spectacular, like the stadium 
 contests of Greece and Rome. If I had pos 
 sessed leisure and inclination I might have 
 closed my eyes and seen the Roman nobles and 
 ladies leaning from their balconies of gold and 
 ivory, cheering on the savage fighters in the 
 dusty arena. Now and again a roar broke forth 
 as wolfishly as if thumbs had been turned for the 
 death of an overthrown gladiator. 
 
 But I sat looking at Mrs. Randolph, devour 
 ing her beauty. Though my heart was filled 
 with a flame of love, the sadness of her face 
 
 261
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 pained me. Not once did she look toward me, 
 and she seemed quite unaware that I was near 
 her. The nut-brown maid had eyes for nothing 
 but those dusty fighters of the diamond. Jerome 
 watched the playing closely, commented occa 
 sionally on the conduct of the game or a deci 
 sion of the umpire, and now and then I heard 
 him swearing softly over something which much 
 displeased him. 
 
 Jerome's growing excitement and the rising 
 tone of his comments caused me at length to 
 give more attention to the diamond, and to the 
 men who at brief intervals bobbed up before 
 some Yale or Harvard section and with waving 
 arms led in the set cheering meant to inspire 
 the combating nines. 
 
 If both the Yale and Harvard supporters were 
 not confident of victory their cheering and their 
 songs belied them. The Yale sections declared 
 in lusty chorus that Harvard's grave had been 
 dug; and the Harvard sections sang back boast 
 fully that the sun was to set in Crimson, as the 
 sun had set before, for this was Harvard's day. 
 Each side cheered most vociferously and sang 
 loudest when its nine was most in peril. And 
 with it all there was that excitement that made 
 men shiver, though the sun was shining hot 
 from the clear sky of June. Overhead at least 
 
 262
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 Yale's color was dominant, for the sky was a 
 deep blue from horizon to horizon. 
 
 From glances at the soiled fighters of the 
 diamond and from Jerome's enlightening com 
 ment and soft-voiced anathemas I gathered that 
 matters were going hard with Harvard. The 
 eighth inning had ended amid prodigious excite 
 ment, with Harvard last at the bat. 
 
 "That was a steal," Jerome was whispering 
 softly. He rubbed his palms together and 
 swung forward in his seat, his shoulders hunched 
 and his head out-thrust. "Oh, that was a 
 steal!" 
 
 He touched my arm. 
 
 " Did you see that that slide of Benson's 
 in the sixth ? He brought a runner in, with a 
 homer; ball in deep centre fielder had to fish 
 for it in the grass like a boy hunting for a lost 
 marble; and all the time Benson was flying. He 
 made a great slide a great slide; and I'll 
 swear that he put his fingers on the plate before 
 the ball touched him. But the umpire declared 
 him out." 
 
 He clicked his heels together and rocked to 
 and fro in his agony. The flush on his face 
 had deepened from rosy pink almost to Harvard 
 crimson. 
 
 "How is the score?" I asked. 
 
 263
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Not that I cared; I was thinking of Mrs. 
 Randolph, of the sadness of her face, of its 
 beauty, too, in spite of its sadness; and I was 
 resolving that I would defeat Courtney Lane, 
 and would yet win, first her confidence, and 
 then her love. What was it to me, if Yale or 
 Harvard led ? But I asked the question. 
 
 "Seven to five, in favor of Yale," said 
 Jerome. 
 
 He almost groaned. 
 
 "Ah! they're making a kick about that! 
 Well, they ought to, sir; they ought to throw 
 that umpire off the grounds. I'd like to go 
 down and punch him. Too bad!" he added, 
 with a sigh. "He has ruled against them." 
 
 He turned to me. 
 
 "Did you see that catch Benson made at 
 short, in the seventh ?" 
 
 "No," I said, "I wasn't looking." 
 
 A shade of reproach passed quickly over his 
 face. 
 
 " It was great, sir absolutely the finest thing 
 I ever saw!" He struck his hands together by 
 way of emphasis. "The ball went hot off the 
 bat, like a bullet, over the head of the pitcher. 
 Benson jumped into the air and nailed it, and 
 shot it to first like lightning as soon as his feet 
 touched the ground. And he caught the runner
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 before he could get back to the bag. It put 
 two men out!" 
 
 He rubbed his palms together and rocked his 
 body. 
 
 "Benson has been covering himself with 
 glory to-day," he added. "It makes me proud 
 of him, sir." 
 
 In the ninth Yale failed to put a single man 
 on first; the only one who came near reaching 
 it Benson put out with a short-arm throw. The 
 feverishness of the excitement that followed 
 made its effects felt even on me, uninterested as 
 I had been. And then, when a run was made, 
 and, with two men out and a runner on first, 
 Benson came to the bat, I felt my pulses jump 
 ing for the first time. 
 
 Jerome's face had gone white again. I 
 glanced at Mrs. Randolph, who was as impas 
 sive as ever, and at Miss Hansborough. The 
 eagerness of the nut-brown maid was palpable. 
 She sat leaning forward, red lips apart, eyes shin 
 ing, and with cheeks as crimson as the flag she 
 bore or the crimson roses that adorned her hat. 
 
 Jerome began again to swear softly, as strikes 
 were called. Then to my ears, in the strange 
 hush that fell over all those thousands of eager 
 spectators, came the words of the umpire, his 
 voice trembling: 
 
 265
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "Two strikes three balls!" 
 
 A quiver ran through the Harvard benches, 
 like wind rustling through dry tree branches. 
 Some electric thrill of sympathy made my tense 
 nerves quiver. The next ball that came whirl 
 ing in from the hand of the pitcher might settle 
 it. If it was a fair ball and Benson did not get 
 it Yale would be the victor. 
 
 I saw the ball come in, and I heard Benson's 
 bat collide with it. It was a sharp, clear crack. 
 
 As he thus drove the ball, and jumped toward 
 first, while the runner from first ran toward second, 
 all those seated Harvard thousands sprang up 
 in a screaming, yelling mass, with flags, hats, 
 handkerchiefs, umbrellas, fluttering and waving. 
 I leaped to my feet, waving my hat and yelling 
 with the others. The nut-brown maid was flut 
 tering her crimson flag deliriously. Jerome at 
 my side was shouting like a madman. A wild 
 roar rolled over the field. Fielders were scam 
 pering, coachers screeching; and Benson, chas 
 ing the runner before him, was going round the 
 diamond as if he wore the winged slippers of 
 Mercury. I had not dreamed the fellow could 
 run so. The man ahead of him came in, tying 
 the score. 
 
 "Go home!*' Jerome screamed, waving his 
 hat, as Benson passed third and turned for the 
 
 266
 
 CRIMSON AGAINST BLUE 
 
 plate. "They can't get you go home! Good 
 boy! Oh, you Lulu! G-o h-o-m-e!" 
 
 He stamped on the seat, and then jumped 
 up and down in his frenzy. In the midst of 
 that bedlam Benson crossed the home plate, 
 with the ball following him closely; and then 
 
 The benches cracked under Jerome and me, 
 and I slipped and pitched downward. Jerome 
 caught at me, but missed, and I landed on my 
 head and shoulders. The game had ended vic 
 toriously for Harvard. For me had come the 
 blackness and blankness of sudden unconscious 
 ness. 
 
 267
 
 XXIV 
 
 A METAMORPHOSED PAST 
 
 I DO not know the workings of the mind 
 of Napoleon after his defeat at Waterloo; 
 I am far from being a Napoleon. But 
 when I felt that the Fates had done their worst 
 against me I was weak, uncourageous, crushed. 
 Not having the rashly heroic disposition which 
 in times of disaster drove the Ancients to the 
 hemlock, I desired only seclusion and inatten 
 tion from every one. Cowper's remote and 
 "boundless contiguity of shade" would have 
 suited my sick fancy exactly. 
 
 I had returned to consciousness with this 
 feeling in a room in the house on Brattle 
 Street, though at the time I was fully convinced 
 that I was in a hospital. I had been in hos 
 pitals one I recalled distinctly; and the at 
 mosphere is unmistakable. In addition, as if 
 more proof were needed, a white-capped and 
 white-aproned nurse stood by my bed. 
 "You are better," she said. 
 She gave me something from a spoon, which 
 I swallowed without protest, and went away. 
 
 268
 
 A METAMORPHOSED PAST 
 
 i 
 
 If it was a soothing draught it failed of its 
 effect; I became even more wide awake, and 
 more depressed, as the drama of recent events 
 unrolled to my memory. 
 
 One thing I recalled with especial clearness 
 was that telegram from New York which I had 
 received just before the ball game: 
 
 " Rand in pay of Lane from the first. Unable 
 to find proofs you want. Pushing investiga 
 tion." 
 
 Another thing so burned into my memory 
 that I could never forget it was that scene in 
 Camden when Mrs. Randolph turned me from 
 her door. I had hoped to overthrow Lane, and 
 to win her. It was clear to me now that I 
 could do neither. Indeed the selfishness of the 
 efforts I had made appalled me. They seemed 
 sure proof of that deterioration of the moral 
 fibre which inevitably punishes the wrongdoer. 
 
 I was not only weak and unnerved, deserted 
 of courage, but my conscience was frightfully 
 awake and loud-voiced. It seemed to me that 
 I had not only acted the part of a poltroon, but 
 that the egotism which had made me believe 
 Mrs. Randolph, after an understanding of my 
 baseness and duplicity, could accept me in the 
 
 269
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 place of the husband she had loved and lost 
 was monumental and bordered on the delusions 
 of the insane. 
 
 I wondered if Mrs. Randolph had been to 
 see me since I had been brought to this place, 
 and I regretted I had not asked the attendant. 
 Jerome had been there, I was sure, and would 
 come again. But now I did not want to see 
 even Jerome. For that overpowering feeling 
 that I had been wrong fatally, foolishly, 
 wickedly wrong from the first, combined with 
 a strange and sickening sense of defeat, made 
 me wish to see no one who had known in any 
 way of my ill-guided and ill-starred attempt. 
 
 In this period of depression, wild thoughts of 
 flight came to me, which crystallized into a 
 desire to hide myself amid the scenes of my 
 childhood; I suffered from the intense longing 
 of homesickness. The waving trees and green 
 fields; the roadsides, which in this month of 
 June were pink with masses of wild roses; the 
 cool, leafy lanes; the pools of water under the 
 pollard willows, where in the heat of the day 
 the cows used to stand; the long village street, 
 with the white church spire rising at the end 
 of it; the country store and the post office, with 
 their groups of gossipers and loungers, I saw 
 them all. 
 
 270
 
 A METAMORPHOSED PAST 
 
 The desire for flight, for seclusion, for a back 
 ward leap into a past that might to some extent 
 take me away from the present, that might 
 somehow, I did not know how, sprinkle me 
 with perfumes from Lethean waters, grew until 
 at last I arose from my bed. 
 
 I was not so weak as I had thought, and 
 desire gave me strength. I found the window, 
 and looked out into the night shadows and at 
 the flashing lamps of the street. The surround 
 ings were unfamiliar. 
 
 My clothing was within reach of my hand. 
 I dressed hastily; and then slipped from the 
 room, down the broad stairs, and out into the 
 night, without discovery. I daresay I was mad, 
 raving mad, as a result of that fall. 
 
 As I wandered on I saw that I was in Cam 
 bridge, and directed my way toward Harvard 
 Square. In my purse, undisturbed, was my 
 small store of money, and at a restaurant I 
 bought a roll and coffee. Then I took a car 
 for the South Station, in Boston, and was well 
 launched on my wild journey. 
 
 When, shortly before morning, I arrived in 
 the town of Walesby and sought a hotel, I was 
 distressed by the changes I beheld. Time had 
 wrought sad havoc. All the old landmarks were 
 gone. 
 
 271
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "You are not well," said the night clerk, 
 looking at me sharply when I asked for a room. 
 
 "Not very strong," I said, "as the result of 
 a recent injury, but I am not ill. The old 
 Densford House stood on this site originally, 
 did it not?" 
 
 He stared at me. He was a young man, with 
 bristling moustache and bright eyes. 
 
 "I don't know," he said; "I never heard 
 that it did." 
 
 I observed that he gave me curious glances as 
 he conducted me to my room. 
 
 I slept scarcely at all; and was out before 
 sunrise, hurrying along the street which I was 
 sure would bring me to familiar scenes. But 
 I was not led to them. The sun came up out 
 of a wide flat, where I had looked for hills. 
 With a feeling of bewilderment I went on. 
 The "o-ca-lee" of red-winged blackbirds drew 
 me to a clump of willows. The water was 
 stagnant and fetid; the clear spring had appar 
 ently been choked, and the cool and trickling 
 brook where as a boy I had waded barefoot 
 was not there. 
 
 I looked about for the hills of my childhood. 
 Springs may become choked and brooks may 
 dry up, trees may be cut down, highways may 
 be changed, but the hills are eternal. Yet the 
 
 272
 
 A METAMORPHOSED PAST 
 
 hills of my fancy, sun-bright when the red 
 morning touched their tops, purple, gold, and 
 silver when the evening shadows marched 
 phalanx-like up the cool valleys, were not there. 
 Hills there never had been in that place. The 
 land was a flat! Nor were there any hills about 
 the town; not even the little hills which Fancy, 
 reaching youthward, may with the aid of de 
 ceptive memory magnify into large ones. 
 
 A sudden terror shook me. I quaked under 
 a new thought, that Imagination, insidiously in 
 serting itself in the place of Memory and pass 
 ing itself off as such, had tricked me. I began 
 to awake to the terrible discovery that I had 
 merely fancied this town of Walesby to be my 
 birthplace; and that the hills, the roads, the 
 pleasant brook, and all, were but the creations 
 of a capsized imagination. And as this rushed 
 upon me I was frightened and transfixed by 
 another thought. It seemed to come as a re 
 membered portion of a fevered dream which 
 had troubled me as I tossed on that bed in the 
 house in Cambridge. It was that / was the 
 only one who had from the first been deceived; 
 and that / was Julian Randolph! 
 
 With the inrush of this sudden conviction 
 strange memories assailed me. The recent past 
 grew hazy, and showing through it like islands 
 
 273
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 seen through a mist came recollections that 
 amazed and bewildered me. Was I, could I 
 be, Julian Randolph ? 
 
 "Julian!" 
 
 I heard the name called. It was like a 
 voice from that other, that submerged, past. 
 On hearing it I turned. Mrs. Randolph was 
 in the road, hurrying with quick steps toward 
 me. With her were Jack Benson and Jerome. 
 They had I saw it now discovered my 
 flight, and had followed in hot haste. 
 
 My brain spun round. There was a noise in 
 my head like the loud humming of a top. That 
 noise ended in a roaring explosion. And again I 
 was as unconscious as when I fell to the ground 
 at the ball field. 
 
 274
 
 XXV 
 
 LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 
 
 MRS. RANDOLPH was reading to me. I 
 despair of conveying to any one by the 
 use of mere type and paper an idea of 
 the charm of her voice when she read low, 
 soft, well modulated, yet with a vibrant, bell-like 
 quality. It soothed me to hear it. 
 
 The book from which she read was Pinchot's 
 "Mysteries of the Mind." It was a strange 
 book, filled with records so strange that only 
 one conversant with the revelations of psychol 
 ogy could credit them. 
 
 As Mrs. Randolph read I watched her with 
 loving fondness. The pallor was gone from 
 her face; health, contentment, happiness were 
 revealed in it. And it was as beautiful as I 
 had dreamed. The clear-cut features, the white 
 forehead and brilliant complexion, the rounded 
 throat, the soft brown hair with its gleam of 
 sunshine, the sweet blue eyes, and lips made 
 for love and kisses I noted them all. Thus 
 noting and listening I almost forgot at times 
 the strangeness of the things she read. 
 
 275
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 "That is a queer case," I said; "read that 
 again, please." 
 
 "Very much like your own, Julian." 
 
 Pinchot was expounding his theories of the 
 "Sub-Conscious Mind" and telling of that 
 singular mental cataclysm by which all previ 
 ous recollections are buried under new and 
 imaginary ones. 
 
 "The former ego," read Mrs. Randolph, "is 
 apparently extinguished, and another (we can 
 not call it a new one, for it previously existed) 
 supplants it. The man is thus, as to his mental 
 states, wholly another being. While he is to 
 the eye of the beholder the same man, he does 
 not himself know it. Nor does he know of the 
 change in himself. His past is to him as if it 
 had never existed. He does not recognize, or 
 know, those who were his former friends. They 
 are strangers to him. He recognizes only those 
 whom he has known and associated with in his 
 new condition of existence; and he knows (that 
 is, recalls) others, who are but inhabitants of 
 the chimerical past he has created for himself, 
 a past which would otherwise be a blank. 
 Sometimes (often indeed) the past is a blank. 
 With this manufactured past (if I may so call 
 it) serving, and deceiving him, as real memories, 
 he constructs for himself a new life, begins per- 
 
 276
 
 LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 
 
 haps a new profession, assumes a new name, 
 which he fancies has been always his, and does 
 not for an instant dream even that this is so. 
 If a married man he perhaps marries again, not 
 knowing that he is already married. Should 
 he even meet his wife he, in all proba 
 bility, would not recognize her, nor could he be 
 made to believe that she was his wife, or that 
 he had ever met her before. But if recognition 
 came, then his submerged ego would instantly re- 
 assume control, and he would be as a man aroused 
 from a trance; then the new life he had been living 
 would itself become a blank, the new acquaint 
 ances would be no more remembered as belong 
 ing to that period; and in fact all that he had 
 thought and done would be as a sentence or a 
 page of writing erased from a slate. This is 
 usually the case; yet there are well-authenticated 
 instances where a man thus restored is able to 
 recall not only this new and usually forgotten 
 past, but recalls also, the same as a mind which 
 has not known this submergence, the events of 
 his previous life, such as every man remembers." 
 
 She closed the book, with her finger between 
 the pages. 
 
 "Doctor Thompson saw that you were in 
 just that state." A hint of tears came to the 
 blue eyes. "And, Julian, you don't know what 
 
 277
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 it cost me, when I tried to carry out his orders 
 there in Camden, after he had reached the con 
 clusion that a violent mental shock might arouse 
 you to the old life. I am a poor actress I'm 
 afraid, for I came near breaking down when I 
 made that pretence of believing you to be the 
 impostor you thought yourself, and ordered you 
 from the house." 
 
 Impulsively I put out my hand and took her 
 free one in it, giving it a warm pressure. 
 
 "But I was willing to try anything," she 
 added. " I was so afraid though that you would 
 do something violent, would kill yourself per 
 haps, that I stipulated a man must be set to 
 watch you every minute." 
 
 "Yes, I recall him well enough," I said; 
 "that was the fellow who rode with Lane in 
 the auto, and shadowed me after I reached 
 Boston and Cambridge. But I thought Lane 
 had hired him." 
 
 She looked at me with a radiant smile. 
 
 "I fear that your love for me was not as 
 strong as you claimed, you pretender; for you 
 never once tried to commit suicide. And all 
 my fine acting went for nothing, too; for if 
 Jerome hadn't gone insane at the ball game and 
 broken the seat you would still be claiming to 
 me that you are not Julian Randolph." 
 
 278
 
 LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 
 
 "I should still be madly in love with you, 
 whatever I was or did," I declared, lifting her 
 hand to my lips with an impulsive motion. "I 
 think Pinchot does not hit my case in one way; 
 for I'm sure it was memory a queer sort, per 
 haps which caused me to fall wildly in love 
 with you when I saw you there in the carriage 
 in Central Park." 
 
 She pouted her lips prettily. 
 
 "So you don't think you could have fallen in 
 love with me if there hadn't been a memory 
 of that previous love?" 
 
 "Of course; I'd have fallen in love with you 
 anyway, any time, anywhere. You are the one 
 woman ordained for me from the foundation of 
 the world." 
 
 "Don't be so sure, Julian," she said. "If 
 the half of what Pinchot says is true we can 
 never be sure of anything." 
 
 Yet she was pleased. 
 
 "No matter what Pinchot says, I am sure 
 I'm the happiest man alive!" 
 
 "And I the happiest woman." 
 
 I drew the bright head down to where I lay 
 half reclining, and kissed her. 
 
 "Kitty," I said, "I love you!" 
 
 She threw her arms round me. 
 
 " And I love you love you love you ! " 
 
 279
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 Courtney Lane was not such a bad lot after 
 all, I discovered. As the instructor to whom 
 he had been introduced in Philadelphia, he was 
 not ready to believe that I could be Julian Ran 
 dolph. I confess that inasmuch as I did not 
 myself believe it he had grounds for his disbe 
 lief. I think he really did unload some copper 
 stocks on my wife at an unseemly high figure; 
 but he did not attempt any direct swindling, or 
 other financial jugglery, so far as I could learn. 
 But I am convinced, and always shall be, that 
 he was in love with my wife. That was not her 
 fault, God bless her! No man could be long 
 acquainted with her and not love her; and he 
 would be less than a man if, thinking her a 
 widow, he did not wish to marry her. 
 
 I have forgiven him for that Philadelphia 
 business. I did spend a couple of months in 
 the Gilbert Porter Institute as an instructor 
 while I was roaming about under the impres 
 sion that my alter ego was my first and only 
 ego, and Julian Randolph had retired tempo 
 rarily to that strange and mystical land of 
 the Sub-Conscious. Randolph was completely 
 avalanched at the time, poor fellow; that fall 
 from the wharf at Camden did it, Doctor 
 Thompson believes, and I am sure. But I have 
 such a grip on him now that he is not likely 
 
 280
 
 LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 
 
 ever to leave me again. Doctor Thompson is 
 as wise as I once thought him foolish. 
 
 Mrs. Trencher I have also forgiven. I know 
 I can never learn to like the widening flash of 
 her black eyes; but she is not to blame for that 
 perhaps, nor for her peppery temper and over- 
 masterful manner. Years of teaching and other 
 years of mission work taking one into contact 
 with inferior minds will have their effect. 
 
 I find it strangely hard to forgive Asbury 
 Rand. He might have informed me that he 
 had been employed previously by Lane. The 
 confidences I bestowed on him when I did not 
 know that were as if they had been purloined 
 from me. And that he should have deceived 
 me so, and aided Lane while professing to 
 serve me, was black treachery. Still, I try to 
 be generous even to Asbury Rand. In my new 
 happiness I feel that I can afford to be generous 
 and forgiving to the whole world. 
 
 While my wife was reading to me from Pin- 
 chot's admirable book Jerome passed the door. 
 
 "Jerome was himself a wonderfully clever 
 actor at that time," I said, as the sound of his 
 footsteps died away. "I really thought he had 
 left you, and had not the remotest idea that you 
 had instructed him to remain close by me and 
 help me in every way I demanded, and that you 
 
 281
 
 THE CASTLE OF DOUBT 
 
 supplied the money which he was so anxious to 
 spend on me. I really did not credit him with 
 such cleverness." 
 
 She looked at me with eyes strangely shining. 
 
 "Can you think for an instant that I would 
 send you away from our house in Camden with 
 out any one to look out for you, or care for 
 you?" 
 
 "He acted his part with marvellous skill," I 
 said. "Really, he would not do badly on the 
 stage." 
 
 "I think we all had some excellent lessons in 
 acting about that time," she said, smiling again; 
 " not only Jerome and myself, but Margaret and 
 Jack Benson, and even the chauffeur and the 
 servants." 
 
 Miss Hansborough came into the room with 
 a girlish flutter, carrying a stack of envelopes 
 which she had been addressing. She was the 
 same cheery, athletic, nut-brown maid. I did 
 not wonder that Benson adored her. 
 
 He had received his "sheepskin" from Har 
 vard soon after his wonderful work on the dia 
 mond. I tell him in jest sometimes that he 
 would not have been given a degree but for 
 that! 
 
 The addressed envelopes were to convey to 
 her friends announcements of her approaching 
 
 282
 
 LOVE AND THE SOUL-SLEEPERS 
 
 wedding. She was radiantly happy as she 
 asked advice and showed some of the addresses 
 to her sister. 
 
 But not even Miss Hansborough nor Jack 
 Benson (no, not even when they stood together 
 in Grace Church and were married!) was hap 
 pier than I, nor happier than the lovely woman 
 who is my wife. For ours was a reunion which 
 bound more closely and firmly than can any new 
 tie. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 383
 
 Mr. Whitson's First Western Novel 
 
 BARBARA 
 A WOMAN OF THE WEST 
 
 By JOHN H. WHITSON 
 Illustrated by C. C. Emerson. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 
 
 " We are carried from one scene to another with an ease 
 and expeditiousness that plainly betokens the author's 
 familiarity with the length and breadth of the Western 
 country, and the people he so vividly portrays," says the 
 San Francisco News-Letter. 
 
 Barbara, the heroine of Mr. Whitson's first Western 
 novel, is the loyal wife of a self-centred man of literary 
 tastes, living on a ranch in Kansas. " Barbara is a fresh, 
 breezy sort of a girl ; and the account of her life and ulti 
 mate happiness, as described by Mr. Whitson, makes one 
 of the best stories of the season," says the St. Paul Globe. 
 
 Hon. John D. Long, ex-Secretary of the Navy, in a letter 
 to the author, says : " You have the story-teller's art. I 
 like especially those portions of the book which treat of 
 Western scenes and life the homestead, the plain, the 
 prairie, the pioneer's experience, the mining camp, Cripple 
 Creek, and Pike's Peak. You bring out the growth of the 
 country, the speculative ups and downs, the mountain 
 curves of the narrow railroads ; and the winter scene with 
 the dangerous trip over the mountain from Feather Bow is 
 very graphic." 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON
 
 A Stirring Tale of the Plains 
 
 THE RAINBOW 
 CHASERS 
 
 By JOHN H. WHITSON 
 Author of " Barbara, A Woman of the West " 
 
 FULL of the atmosphere of the West, with Dick 
 Brewster, alias Jackson Blake, cowboy, land specu 
 lator, and lover, for its hero, Mr. Whitson's new novel, 
 without being in the least a copy, has many of the attrac 
 tions of Mr. Wister's hero, " The Virginian." 
 
 "The Rainbow Chasers" is a virile American novel 
 with its principal scenes laid in Western Kansas during 
 the land boom of '85. The male characters are vigorous 
 men, with red blood in their veins ; and the heroine, Elinor 
 Spencer, is a high-spirited but lovable Western girl. 
 
 The Brooklyn Eagle says : 
 
 " It is a picturesque narrative, striking in its portrayal 
 of conditions that have vanished. It is one of those works 
 of fiction which, like ' The Virginian, ' deserve to rank as 
 books of social and economic history, because of the pic 
 turing of conditions, vital while they existed, that have 
 passed away." 
 
 With 6 illustrations by Arthur E. Becher. 393 pages. 
 12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON 
 At all Booksellers
 
 A Colorado romance, full of action 
 
 JUSTIN WINGATE, 
 RANCHMAN 
 
 By JOHN H. WHITSON 
 
 Author of " The Rainbow Chasers," etc. 
 
 Illustrated by Arthur E. Becher. 318 pages. 12mo. $1.50 
 
 A timely, unusual, and striking story, fall of action. 
 Chicago Inter-Ocean. 
 
 The love story is one of the sweetest told in any novel 
 of recent days. St. Louis Star. 
 
 It may be called a " reconstruction novel " of ranch, ex 
 istence, for it deals with a new phase of Western life and 
 presents the cowboy in a new character. The writer has 
 not only the story-teller's art of holding the attention, but 
 he has a .thorough knowledge of his subject, and presents 
 an accurate and adequate picture of the "Western life of 
 the day its purpose and significance and possibilities. 
 New York Sun. 
 
 There are many extremely thrilling situations in the 
 story and they are skilfully handled. Boston Transcript. 
 
 Takes one among very real people, placed in genuinely 
 human situations. St. Louis Globe- Democrat. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON 
 At all Booksellers'
 
 "Shows Mr. Oppenkeim at his Best" 
 
 THE MALEFACTOR 
 
 By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM 
 
 Author of " A Maker of History, " etc. Illustrated by 
 F. H. Townsend. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 
 
 A new Monte Cristo. Every page fascinates. Brook 
 lyn Citizen. 
 
 Spirited, vigorous, mysterious, and, best of all, well-told. 
 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 Possesses literary merit far above what is usually 
 associated with this kind of fiction. Philadelphia Press. 
 
 One of those fascinating stories which grips tightly the 
 deepest interest of the reader and holds on until the 
 strange tale is complete. Syracuse Herald. 
 
 Nothing that he has yet produced compares with " The 
 Malefactor " in point of sheer, absorbing interest. St. 
 Paul Pioneer Press. 
 
 Constructed with the skill in development of plot and 
 exciting interest of which the author is an acknowledged 
 master. The Outlook, New York. 
 
 A story of the strange revenge of Sir "Wingrave Seton, 
 who suffered imprisonment for a crime he did mot com 
 mit rather than defend himself at a woman's expense. 
 
 Toledo Blade. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & CO.,. PUBLISHERS 
 254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-Series 4939
 
 A 001 247020 9 
 
 PS 
 
 35 
 W6l6c