THE MYSTEFC 
 OF MIRIAM 
 
 J. WESLEY JOHNSTON
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM
 
 jaaocmcvw&xKi^^ 
 
 THE MYSTERY*/ 
 
 CDtriam 
 
 By J. WESLEY JOHNSTON 
 
 Author of "Dwellers in Gotham," 
 "The Riddle of Life, "etc. 
 
 BOSTON 
 HERBERT B. TURNER fcf CO. 
 
 1904
 
 Copyright, 1904, by 
 HERBERT B. TURNER & Co. 
 
 Entered at Stationers' Hall 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published May, 1904 
 
 Colonial $re 
 
 Eloctrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. 
 Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
 
 EVELYN, HAROLD 5? GRACE; 
 
 these three; 
 but the greatest of these is 
 
 NEW YORK, U.S.A.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I. MIRIAM 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. 
 
 MR. SAXBY AT HOME 
 
 I 
 
 II. 
 
 
 
 III. 
 
 
 18 
 
 IV. 
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT . . . 
 
 . 28 
 
 V. 
 
 MRS. SAXBY'S INTUITION . 
 
 38 
 
 VI. 
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 
 
 45 
 
 VII. 
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 
 
 59 
 
 VIII. 
 
 
 
 IX. 
 
 NEW YORK AND HARD TIMES . 
 
 . 89 
 
 X. 
 
 MR. MlLLTRUM OF CHICAGO 
 
 . 98 
 
 XI. 
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS . 
 
 . 112 
 
 XII. 
 
 A WEDDING 
 
 . 124 
 
 
 BOOK II. JUDITH 
 
 
 I. 
 
 JUDITH 
 
 135 
 
 II. 
 
 A DINNER - PARTY .... 
 
 . 148 
 
 III. 
 
 
 161 
 
 IV. 
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM . . 
 
 - 175 
 
 V. 
 
 EAVESDROPPING .... 
 
 . 187 
 
 VI. 
 
 VINCENT PERRIN .... 
 
 . 199 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 
 
 . 213 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 
 
 . 226 
 
 IX. 
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA .... 
 
 237
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 X. 
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 
 
 . 249 
 
 XI. 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION . 
 
 . 266 
 
 
 BOOK III. MIRIAM 
 
 
 I. 
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 
 
 . 279 
 
 II. 
 
 
 
 III. 
 
 THE GEMMI PASS .... 
 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE DESCENT . 
 
 324 
 
 v. 
 
 
 
 VI. 
 
 
 
 VII. 
 
 AT MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 
 
 37i 
 
 VIII. 
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE OF ST. JOHN'S . 
 
 385 
 
 IX. 
 
 AN ATTACK ON MILLTRUM BROTHERS 
 
 398 
 
 X. 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE .... 
 
 . 412 
 
 XI. 
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 
 
 427 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS . 
 
 442 
 
 XIII. 
 
 
 4?2
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 MIRIAM
 
 THE 
 
 MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 i. 
 
 MR. SAXBY AT HOME 
 
 AT 
 
 a given hour every morning, with a punc- 
 tuality almost unvarying, the well-appointed car- 
 riage of Mr. Gaston Saxby appeared at the door 
 of his house in Pelham, and, almost before the 
 horses came to a stand-still, Mr. Saxby would 
 walk down the broad stone steps, take his place 
 in the carriage, and drive off to the railway sta- 
 tion. 
 
 So regular were these movements on the part 
 of Mr. Saxby, that in time they came to be re- 
 garded as an established custom, any break caus- 
 ing both wonder and inquiry. It was, therefore, 
 with no little surprise that the neighbors saw the 
 carriage depart one morning without its usual 
 occupant, and, after a time, return from the sta- 
 tion as empty as when it started.
 
 2 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Something evidently was wrong, what, no 
 one could tell. Mr. Saxby had been seen the 
 evening before with Mrs. Saxby and their daugh- 
 ter Miriam, returning from New York, so busi- 
 ness men, on their way to the station, as they 
 saw the empty carriage, questioned each other 
 as to what it meant. On the train various in- 
 quiries were made, some even asking the con- 
 ductor what had become of his most regular 
 passenger. 
 
 What puzzled all of them was the fact that 
 the empty carriage had gone that morning to 
 the station, and, after waiting there for the train 
 from New York, had driven off without any one 
 opening its door, or the coachman leaving his 
 seat. Some thought that Mr. Saxby had been 
 overworking of late and was taking a day off; 
 others were of opinion that he was expecting 
 certain Western capitalists, with whom he was 
 suspected of being in treaty; while others only 
 shrugged their shoulders, as though the matter 
 did not especially concern them. But soon other 
 topics of conversation presented themselves, and 
 for the time Mr. Saxby and his empty carriage 
 were forgotten. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Saxby was in his library, 
 impatiently waiting the return of the carriage 
 from the station, for he was expecting the ar- 
 rival of his secretary to assist him in examining 
 a number of very important documents, a task
 
 MR. SAXBY AT HOME 3 
 
 for which he preferred the quiet of his suburban 
 home. 
 
 Something in these documents, or relating to 
 them, troubled Mr. Saxby. One would have 
 thought that any man might be measurably con- 
 tent in such a home, and particularly in the lux- 
 uriously furnished room where he was sitting. 
 A fire burned cheerfully in the open grate, dif- 
 fusing its pleasant warmth and softening the 
 chill of the early November day. Rich hangings 
 of Oriental design and color tempered the light 
 that filled the spacious windows. The walls and 
 ceilings, of sombre hue, suggested the work of 
 a genuine artist. Bookcases of dark mahogany, 
 which not only held costly and tempting editions, 
 but served as a resting-place for rare bronzes 
 and costly bric-a-brac, occupied two sides of the 
 library. Over the mantelpiece, which was also 
 of mahogany and handsomely carved, hung 
 a genuine Velasquez, for which Mr. Saxby 
 had paid a small fortune. An exquisite Per- 
 sian rug almost covered the entire floor, leaving 
 just margin enough to reveal the polished 
 hard wood, which shone in the glancing fire- 
 light. 
 
 The table on which Mr. Saxby's hand rested 
 was severe but massive, and, though partially 
 covered with books and papers, it had ample ac- 
 commodations for as many more. So far as 
 surroundings were concerned, Mr. Saxby had
 
 4 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 no cause to be restless, and much less to be irri- 
 table. 
 
 As he rose hastily from his chair and walked 
 impatiently to the window, it was evident that he 
 was hale and vigorous. He appeared a little 
 heavy under the eyes not an uncommon thing 
 with men who live in the atmosphere of Wall 
 Street and his neck was somewhat large for 
 a man of his build. His hair had hardly a tinge 
 of gray, his eyes were wonderfully clear, his 
 square shoulders were well thrown back, and 
 every movement indicated alertness and power. 
 He looked masterful, resolute, as if accustomed 
 to battle with his fellows, a man who asked 
 no quarter, extended no mercy, and never sent 
 a flag of truce or acknowledged defeat. Proud, 
 resourceful, with ambitions all his own, marvel- 
 lously successful in most of his undertakings, 
 Mr. Saxby had good reason to expect and even 
 demand much from the years that yet awaited 
 him. 
 
 Not far from fifty, with a body which he could 
 afford at times to work as a galley-slave; a 
 mind not only singularly active but capable of 
 enduring prolonged strain ; ample means to carry 
 out either purpose or whim, Mr. Saxby was a 
 force to be reckoned with by both friends and 
 foes. 
 
 Glancing sharply from the library window, 
 he saw the carriage turning the bend of the road ;
 
 MR. SAXBY AT HOME 5 
 
 then he went back to the table, and, taking up 
 what seemed to be a legal document, he opened a 
 drawer and placed it with some other papers, 
 evidently a private collection intended only for 
 his own use. This done, he locked the drawer 
 with a key of peculiar design selected from a 
 small bunch which he carried in an inner pocket. 
 Having replaced the keys, he was about to sit 
 down again at the table when some one tapped 
 gently on the library door. 
 
 " Come in," Mr. Saxby said, pleasantly, and 
 was just about to add " Good morning, Mr. Wal- 
 ters," when he saw that it was not his secretary 
 who entered, but the hall servant, with a message 
 from the coachman to the effect that Mr. Walters 
 had not come on the morning train. 
 
 ' Tell Cooney I wish to see him," Mr. Saxby 
 replied as pleasantly as before, for he had learned 
 the value of keeping his voice under perfect con- 
 trol. Hence he rarely spoke except in a certain 
 tone, low, calm, distinct, but with a peculiar 
 quality which carried the precise meaning he 
 intended to convey. 
 
 " Were you at the station in time for the 
 train ? " he asked Cooney, who had been his 
 coachman for some years. 
 
 " Yes, sir, and waited nearly ten minutes," 
 Cooney answered, respectfully, his speech sug- 
 gesting the delicious accent of the County 
 Cork.
 
 6 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Did you see any passengers get off here ? " 
 
 " Only three came by that train, sir, Mr. 
 Dady the grocer, and two painters who are work- 
 ing on a house down the street." 
 
 " You would know Mr. Walters if you saw 
 him?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, sure ; I have met him two or three 
 times at the station and taken him back again." 
 
 " That will do, Cooney," Mr. Saxby said, re- 
 suming his chair and drawing it up closer to the 
 table. 
 
 Something surely had gone amiss with Mr. 
 Walters. Never before had Mr. Saxby known 
 him to miss an appointment. Careful, method- 
 ical, regular, with a genius for punctuality, Mr. 
 Walters was indeed a model secretary. So com- 
 plete was Mr. Saxby's confidence in the ability 
 and integrity of his secretary that he rarely trou- 
 bled himself with his most important letters after 
 dictating them, assured that in Mr. Walters's 
 hands they were beyond question. 
 
 While wondering as to the cause of Mr. Wal- 
 ters's non-appearance, the telephone bell rang in 
 his library, and, going to the wire, Mr. Saxby 
 recognized the voice of Mr. Crewe, his office 
 manager. 
 
 " We have just heard from Mr. Walters," the 
 office manager said ; " he got hurt at the Brook- 
 lyn Bridge this morning, and was taken to a hos- 
 pital up-town. A telephone message from the
 
 MR. SAXBY AT HOME 7 
 
 hospital says that he is not seriously injured, 
 but won't be able to come to the office for some 
 weeks." 
 
 " Send up at once and see that everything 
 is done to make him comfortable. Also send a 
 message to his people in Brooklyn, telling them 
 to engage a private room for him at the hospital, 
 and to spare no expense," Mr. Saxby replied, 
 promptly. Then he added : " Have Mr. Bed- 
 ford come to the 'phone." For a few moments 
 there was silence, Mr. Saxby standing meantime 
 holding the receiver to his ear, then, " I am at 
 the telephone, Mr. Saxby," informed him that 
 Mr. Bedford was waiting to receive his com- 
 mands. " Mr. Bedford, I wish you to assist me 
 with some special correspondence. Take the ten- 
 thirty train for Pelham, a carriage will meet you 
 at the station. You may have to remain here 
 overnight. Arrange to do so in case it is neces- 
 sary." 
 
 Some of Paul Bedford's fellow clerks were 
 at first a little envious when it became known in 
 the office that he was going to Pelham, and 
 might remain at Mr. Saxby's for the night. Only 
 Mr. Crewe and Mr. Walters had thus far been 
 so favored; the one because of his position as 
 confidential manager, the other in his capacity as 
 private secretary. While little was known in the 
 office of Mr. Saxby's home, it was naturally as- 
 sumed that a man of his wealth would house
 
 8 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 himself in becoming style and maintain a state 
 which he could amply afford. 
 
 The first feeling of envy, however, on account 
 of Paul Bedford's good fortune, soon wore away. 
 He was a general favorite in the office, having 
 qualities that made him very popular. Dark- 
 haired, dark-eyed, deep enough in color to pass 
 for a Spaniard or Italian, he was also tall and 
 athletic in build, and fully as handsome as a 
 man has a right to be. He had also other 
 endowments that added to his value, both socially 
 and otherwise. Without the least assumption, 
 though not unconsciously, he carried his pleasant 
 burden of twenty-four years just as every strong, 
 handsome young fellow should. Maidens of 
 various degrees smiled upon him approvingly, 
 and he, it must be said, smiled in return, but, as 
 his were smiles in the abstract, no great harm was 
 done. Somewhere in his veins was a dreamy, 
 poetic tinge, which might shade off into romance 
 or deepen into tragedy, as the fates pleased to 
 decide. 
 
 Soon after receiving Mr. Saxby's message, 
 Paul Bedford left the office on Wall Street. In 
 half an hour he was at the Grand Central Sta- 
 tion, and before noon was hard at work in Mr. 
 Saxby's library at Pelham.
 
 II. 
 
 MIRIAM 
 
 >EFORE the day was half spent, Paul Bed- 
 ford surprised Mr. Saxby at the ease with which 
 he filled his new and difficult position. At first 
 there were matters comparatively simple, let- 
 ters, statements, general correspondence, all 
 of which involved no special labor. But as Mr. 
 Saxby noted how quickly Paul received his most 
 rapid dictation, his prompt recognition of facts 
 and details, and his ability to follow him with- 
 out elaborate explanations, he took up the more 
 serious business of the day, for which he had 
 summoned Mr. Walters. Contracts were studied, 
 proposals examined, calculations made and com- 
 pared, immense purchases ordered, and young 
 Bedford saw for the first time some of the mental 
 processes by which Mr. Saxby accomplished his 
 work. 
 
 That any one man could be the moving force 
 of such varied and complicated interests seemed 
 impossible. To Mr. Saxby the world was merely 
 
 a chess-board, and he played on States and king- 
 
 9
 
 10 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 doms as on so many squares. He moved moun- 
 tains of coal or iron like pawns in the game. 
 Statesmen and rulers were but as pieces in his 
 hand to be disposed as best suited his purpose. 
 With unerring strategy he marshalled his forces 
 in such order as to make his defence complete, 
 and the attack overwhelming. 
 
 But what seemed to Paul even more wonderful 
 was the eagerness, the zeal, the spirit of battle 
 which possessed Mr. Saxby. His eyes shone. 
 His voice was electric with intensity. The air 
 of the library was as if charged with some dom- 
 inating force which must bear down all that 
 would oppose it. Paul knew nothing of the men 
 who had combined to thwart Mr. Saxby, and, 
 if possible, compass his ruin, save from vague 
 rumors on the street, yet he felt as if the day of 
 reckoning had come and a terrible revenge was 
 at hand. Keenly sensitive, Mr. Saxby's mes- 
 meric excitement soon began to tell on Paul, and 
 ere long he had the spirit of a young soldier fol- 
 lowing close upon a daring leader, reckless of 
 everything save the victory which must be won. 
 
 " We will rest now," Mr. Saxby said, leaning 
 back in his chair, " and I think a cup of coffee 
 would not be amiss." 
 
 Without waiting for Paul to reply, he touched 
 an electric bell, and in a few moments a servant 
 entered with a tray, upon which were the essen- 
 tials of a substantial lunch.
 
 MIRIAM 11 
 
 " You smoke, of course," Mr. Saxby said, when 
 the coffee stage had been reached, producing from 
 a drawer in the table a box of cigars. " I think 
 you will find these fairly good," he continued, 
 opening the box and passing it to Paul. 
 
 Paul did not know that Mr. Saxby had never 
 once offered a cigar to Mr. Walters. Had he 
 been aware of that fact he would probably have 
 declined the proffered courtesy, but he took a 
 cigar with some hesitation. 
 
 For a few minutes both men smoked in silence, 
 Paul respectfully waiting for Mr. Saxby to speak. 
 
 After a time he asked abruptly : 
 
 " Where did you learn to write shorthand ? " 
 
 " At college," Paul answered. 
 
 " Yes, to be sure. Notes of lectures and things 
 of that kind." 
 
 " No, though I found it useful in that way, but 
 to help me through." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " By newspaper work, writing for some of 
 the cheaper magazines, and occasionally doing 
 something a little better." 
 
 "For extra spending-money, I suppose?" 
 
 This question was accompanied by a look of 
 deeper interest than Mr. Saxby had given before. 
 
 " For all the money I needed," Paul answered, 
 bravely, though with a slight flush. 
 
 "Yale or Harvard?" 
 
 " Syracuse."
 
 12 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " I remember now that Mr. Crewe said you 
 were from the upper part of the State. Were you 
 born there ? " 
 
 " I am a Virginian," Paul said, quietly. Never- 
 theless a degree of pride worked itself into his 
 voice, for the Virginian has yet to be born who 
 does not glory in his native State. 
 
 Mr. Saxby could easily fill in the outline sug- 
 gested by Paul's replies. And a glance at Paul 
 himself would enable him the more readily to 
 complete the picture. True, he could not recall 
 the years of war, when Virginia shed its richest 
 blood in espousal of the Confederacy ; when Rich- 
 mond from its capitol held aloft the flag for which 
 so many had battled to the death; neither could 
 he remember the terrible days of disappointment, 
 defeat, disaster, the humiliation of surrender, the 
 return of the broken-hearted warriors only to 
 find bereaved families, plantations in desolation, 
 and with a terrible struggle in hopelessness and 
 poverty ahead of them. 
 
 Mr. Saxby' s financial interests in the South, 
 however, gave him ample opportunity to know 
 the real conditions there, so he could at once tell 
 why Paul Bedford came North, why he was 
 forced to work his way through college, and 
 as soon as college days were over, enter at once 
 into business, taking the first available offering 
 he could find. 
 
 Mr. Saxby was not wont to express generous
 
 MIRIAM 13 
 
 sympathy. People who claimed to know him 
 said he had less heart than a steam-engine, for 
 an engine cylinder does get warm at times. 
 Nevertheless, he admired grit, and wherever he 
 found a man who had courage enough to fight 
 his way out, he recognized in him a kindred 
 spirit. So there was something of respect in the 
 look which he bestowed on Paul. And later, 
 when work was resumed, he seemed to place a 
 higher value on Paul's services, going so far, 
 more than once, as to request an opinion from 
 him. 
 
 " We can finish later in the evening," Mr. 
 Saxby said, glancing at the clock. " It is almost 
 dinner-time," and, while speaking, he touched 
 the electric bell, which, as before, was answered 
 with singular promptness. 
 
 " Show Mr. Bedford to his room," he said, 
 when the servant entered, leaving at once for his 
 own apartments. 
 
 " Dinner is served at seven," the servant re- 
 plied to Paul's question, adding, in a respectful 
 undertone : " And seven is seven with Mr. 
 Saxby." 
 
 Paul smilingly accepted the kindly hint of 
 the servant, and was in the parlor several min- 
 utes ahead of time. Soon Mr. Saxby came 
 in, accompanied by Mrs. Saxby, an elaborately 
 dressed and rather imposing personage, whose 
 reception of Paul was somewhat chilling. That
 
 14 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paul was undeniably handsome she saw at a 
 glance. Also that he was an aristocrat to the 
 finger-tips, and in appearance worthy of courteous 
 recognition in even such a home as hers. But 
 his easy, quiet acceptance of an approach to equal- 
 ity was the sin unpardonable, and, as Mrs. Saxby 
 saw young Bedford walk across the parlor with 
 her husband to get a closer look at a Corot, of 
 which they had been speaking, then heard him 
 refer to the artist as if familiar with his work, 
 she thought his presumption simply boundless. 
 She did not know that in these moments Paul 
 Bedford's spirit had gone back to the spirits 
 of his fathers, and was incarnating itself in the 
 graceful courtesy of the high-bred Southern cav- 
 alier. For the time he was no mere hireling 
 in the service of Mr. Saxby ; he was a Virginian, 
 in whose veins throbbed the blood from which 
 poets, orators, warriors, statesmen had come. 
 These things of course Mrs. Saxby did not know. 
 Nor would the knowledge of them have affected 
 her. For hers was not a nature to be influenced 
 by such an appeal. 
 
 " Am I late ? " Paul heard, in a voice which 
 had something of Mr. Saxby's tone, only so mod- 
 ulated that the question seemed a bit of exquisite 
 melody. Eagerly Paul listened, as the voice went 
 on : "I was detained at Mrs. Grattan's. Indeed, 
 I could hardly get away." 
 
 " You have just saved yourself, Miriam," Mr.
 
 MIRIAM 15 
 
 Saxby said, pleasantly, then introduced Paul, 
 who was standing beside him. 
 
 A sweet, quaint picture Miriam suggested to 
 Paul, as, in her dinner-gown of purest white, 
 made after the Colonial fashion, she gracefully 
 acknowledged his courteous salutation. Not quite 
 of medium height, she gave the impression of be- 
 ing taller, the result probably of a certain gravity 
 in her look, and also a rather striking arrange- 
 ment of her hair. Her face was oval, and made 
 still more definite by dark, heavy eyebrows of 
 more than the usual curve. Her eyes were large, 
 and in the night looked almost black, but in real- 
 ity they were deep brown, and shone with singu- 
 lar brilliance. She had a high, white forehead, 
 and her hair, darker even than her eyes, was 
 parted so that it waved almost regularly on either 
 side, then fell to her ears, where it was caught 
 and drawn back as in the days of long ago. This 
 gave her face the appearance of being set in a 
 frame wonderfully appropriate and becoming. 
 She was pale, too much so perhaps for one of 
 her years, for she had just turned twenty, but 
 there was nothing fragile or delicate in her ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 As Paul looked at her, his spirit yet with 
 his ancestors, he could see in the distant Vir- 
 ginian home pictures which had filled his boyish 
 eyes, and he wondered if one of the maidens, 
 for whose smile men would battle with each other,
 
 16 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 and in whose gleaming eyes lovers saw a light 
 more glorious than ever fell on land or sea, had 
 not escaped from its frame on the gallery wall 
 and again appeared in flesh and blood. 
 
 If a servant had not just then solemnly an- 
 nounced " Dinner is served," Paul might have 
 been tempted to indulge in reverie, but he rallied 
 himself, and, with the dignity of one born in the 
 purple, led Miss Saxby to the dining-room, she 
 accepting his arm with seemingly as much will- 
 ingness as though he was the proud heir of ba- 
 ronial halls. 
 
 From every standpoint, save that of Mrs. 
 Saxby, the dinner-hour was really enjoyable. 
 Mr. Saxby, having disposed of the heavier and 
 more pressing business matters to which he 
 had given the day, entered spiritedly into the 
 general conversation. Miss Saxby, always find- 
 ing much to interest her and having the gift of 
 interesting others, introduced topics in which all 
 could share. Paul, still in the realm of the illus- 
 trious sires, to whom snowy linen, shining silver, 
 playful humor, and sparkling conversation were 
 every-day affairs, contributed his full share to the 
 pleasure of the hour. 
 
 Had he been awkward, ill at ease, unaccus- 
 tomed to the ways of social life, and conducted 
 himself as one in the presence of his superiors, 
 Mrs. Saxby would have made due allowance for 
 the young man, and pitied him, as she often did
 
 MIRIAM 17 
 
 Mr. Walters. But she was forced to concede that 
 his deportment was irreproachable, and the con- 
 cession made her angry. Nor did her anger abate 
 one whit when she saw him draw aside the por- 
 tiere, that she and Miriam might pass out after 
 dinner, with a grace of which Mr. Saxby knew 
 nothing. A few minutes later, he rejoined the 
 ladies in the parlor, preferring his coffee with 
 them to a cigar with Mr. Saxby. To crown all, 
 he talked music, art, and literature with Miriam, 
 as if such things were matters of ordinary con- 
 versation, and he even had the audacity to ask 
 Miss Saxby to sing!
 
 III. 
 
 MIDNIGHT VISITORS 
 
 .UCH to Mrs. Saxby's surprise, Miriam did 
 not resent Paul Bedford's request. Going at 
 once to the piano, she pleasantly asked : 
 
 "What shall I sing, Mr. Bedford?" 
 
 The work of selection occupied some minutes, 
 and naturally led to expressions of opinion, the 
 comparison of one song with another, the merits 
 of different composers, and their tastes, being 
 by no means at variance, a basis of equality was 
 easily established. 
 
 This proceeding added materially to the angry 
 fire in Mrs. Saxby's breast. Before, she was 
 angry only with Paul; now Miriam aroused her 
 indignation. But what could she do ? Mrs. Saxby 
 rigidly observed the code of social obligation, 
 and that code, for the time being, gave Paul Bed- 
 ford the privileges of a guest. One thing she 
 was certain of, nothing would ever induce her 
 to receive Paul Bedford in any other way than 
 as her husband's clerk. 
 
 It was late that night when Paul went to his 
 
 18
 
 MIDNIGHT VISITORS 19 
 
 room, having been detained in the library by 
 Mr. Saxby. Under ordinary circumstances, he 
 would have smoked his good-night pipe, and 
 have fallen, in due time, fast asleep, for he was 
 too young and healthy, and too poor as well, to 
 know anything of insomnia. 
 
 The pipe was smoked and refilled again, but 
 he never thought of sleep. The events of the 
 day in every way unusual and with much 
 that was exciting so crowded upon him as 
 to make him only more wakeful as the night went 
 by. No matter how his thoughts wandered or 
 what form they took, Miss Saxby was invariably 
 in them. He recalled the exquisite figure she 
 made when he was introduced, a combination 
 of the quaint Puritan maiden and the dainty 
 elegance of a Southern belle; he could feel the 
 strange light flashing from her singularly ex- 
 pressive eyes; he remembered her bright, grace- 
 ful pleasantries at the dinner-table, and the skill 
 with which she turned aside the keen wit of Mr. 
 Saxby. Far more grateful still was the delicious 
 memory of the simple ballad she had sung in 
 response to his wish. 
 
 The rings of smoke formed to his eye a 
 fleecy frame for Miss Saxby's face, so strangely 
 witching and winsome, even more so now than 
 when he had seen it a few hours before. Then 
 he began to dream, not the mere pleasantry of 
 sleep, when the mystic angels of the night unlock
 
 20 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the prison house of clay, but the dream which 
 means the opening of a new life, when the soul 
 experiences a resurrection, when the white-robed 
 figures of hope and ambition have rolled away the 
 stone, and the eager, daring heart, so long en- 
 tombed, feels for the first time the thrill of its 
 own being. 
 
 In such a mood, Paul Bedford could not think 
 of sleep, wasting the night in dull, stupid heavi- 
 ness, and lose the vision which had so kindled 
 and aroused him. 
 
 Quietly opening the window, he looked for 
 some time at the sky, where the November stars 
 shone like mighty diamonds, and with a glory 
 he had never felt before. 
 
 There was no moon ; the dark earth was there- 
 fore in striking contrast with the brilliant heav- 
 ens. Paul's room shared this darkness, for he 
 had turned off the lights before opening the 
 window. 
 
 As he sat there dreaming and wondering, he 
 was startled by hearing hoarse whispers, and 
 then a low voice, saying: 
 
 " The other window, Bill ; look out ! " 
 
 Paul's first thought was that the voices were 
 those of servants belonging to the house, who 
 had been out at some merrymaking, and were 
 now trying to enter their rooms without disturb- 
 ing the household. Still he leaned forward and 
 listened, so as to be certain. Soon he heard :
 
 MIDNIGHT VISITORS 21 
 
 "What about the wire?" 
 
 " Jake took care of that." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Last night." 
 
 By this time Paul's head was well out of the 
 window, and, though too dark to see anything 
 clearly, he was certain that two men were work- 
 ing at a window in the library, one holding 
 it to deaden the noise, the other trying to force 
 it open with a burglar's tool. 
 
 In a moment it flashed upon him that Mr. 
 Saxby's apartments were over the library, and, 
 if these men were burglars and succeeded in forc- 
 ing an entrance, Mr. Saxby would be at their 
 mercy. 
 
 But what if they were servants of the house? 
 In that case, any outcry or alarm would cause 
 serious trouble, not only to the thoughtless merry- 
 makers, but to others as well. Meantime Paul 
 kept a sharp watch on that window, and his eyes, 
 now growing accustomed to the darkness, could 
 see more clearly than when he first looked out. 
 Very soon he was satisfied the men were there, 
 for he saw them noiselessly raise the window 
 and stealthily creep into the library. 
 
 He looked intently to observe if they would 
 shut the window after them, for then he would 
 be certain of their connection with the Saxby 
 household, but they left it open, as if to provide 
 for their escape.
 
 22 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 And now what was the best thing to do ? To 
 rush into the hall and shout " Thieves ! Fire ! 
 Murder ! " thus arousing the family and servants, 
 did not seem to Paul the wisest course. Besides, 
 it might frighten Miss Saxby, and possibly do 
 her serious harm. This was not to be thought 
 of. But something must be clone, and that speed- 
 ily, for every moment was of value. 
 
 Fortunately, he knew the location of the li- 
 brary, so, with as little noise but as much haste 
 as possible, he went down-stairs and quietly 
 opened the library door. Here everything was 
 dark and still as the grave. Only for the open 
 window, through which the cool night air was 
 blowing, he might have imagined that both eyes 
 and ears had deceived him, the men only shad- 
 ows cast by the trees in the dim starlight, and 
 the voices sounds exaggerated by his own fancy. 
 But there was the window, while on the window- 
 sill lay what felt to his hand like a coarse canvas 
 or carpet bag, and in it several heavy iron tools. 
 
 With inborn courage, Paul groped about the 
 library, stooping under the long wide table to 
 feel if any one was hiding there. Then he lis- 
 tened, and with such intentness that even a low 
 breath would not have escaped him, but not a 
 sound broke the stillness, save the clock ticking 
 on the mantelpiece. Suddenly he remembered the 
 door Mr. Saxby had used just before dinner, and 
 he was startled when he made his way across
 
 MIDNIGHT VISITORS 23 
 
 the room to find this door wide open. Where 
 it led to he knew not. Softly reaching out his 
 hands on either side, and moving with extreme 
 caution, Paul felt the woodwork of the door, 
 then the walls of some hall or passageway, finally 
 reaching the foot of a staircase. Again he lis- 
 tened, hardly daring to breathe, for he thought 
 he heard sounds as of some one going up-stairs, 
 and pausing for a moment or two on each step. 
 Then there was a faint rustle, barely audible, 
 yet it suggested to Paul that the men had reached 
 the top of the stairs and were slowly moving 
 along the upper hall. He intended creeping up 
 these stairs, but the next moment he heard Mr. 
 Saxby demand : 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 Instantly there was a rushing of feet, followed 
 by sounds of severe struggling. Soon Paul was 
 in the room from which the noises came, where 
 he saw Mr. Saxby on the bed fiercely contending 
 with two men, one of whom had caught him by 
 the throat and was holding a sponge to his mouth 
 and nose. As Paul dashed into the room, the 
 burglars saw that anything by way of robbery 
 was now impossible. The most they could do 
 was make their escape, no matter what it cost. 
 
 Under the pretence of being painters working 
 in an empty house not far from Mr Saxby's, they 
 had eluded suspicion, and when Cooney, Mr. 
 Saxby's coachman, spoke of their coming on
 
 24 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the morning train, it never once occurred to 
 him that he was referring to two of the most 
 noted burglars in New York. 
 
 With all of their preparations, they were dis- 
 concerted by finding a light in Mr. Saxby's room, 
 though so low and shaded that little of it reached 
 his bed. They were also surprised at the sud- 
 denness with which he detected their presence, 
 for their movements had been almost noiseless. 
 
 But far more important than these things was 
 the young man who rushed into the room, with 
 a face as that of a soldier in battle, and a bearing 
 athletic and powerful. 
 
 Nothing remained now but a fight, perhaps to 
 the death. Like a tiger, one sprang at Paul, the 
 other still holding Mr. Saxby down on the bed. 
 The attack was so sudden that he staggered and 
 almost fell, for he had barely entered the room 
 before the burglar was upon him. But Paul 
 speedily recovered himself. His football experi- 
 ences at college, though purchased dearly, had 
 taught him various things, some of which now 
 proved very valuable. 
 
 By a quick twist of his body, he was able to 
 break away from the burglar's grasp, the next 
 moment to strike him a stinging blow square 
 between the eyes, and then close upon him in a 
 way only possible to a skilled wrestler. 
 
 In point of size and strength the two men were 
 not unevenly matched, the burglar being, perhaps,
 
 MIDNIGHT VISITORS 25 
 
 more toughened and hardened, but this was off- 
 set by Paul's greater skill and ability to handle 
 himself. For a few seconds they stood locked in 
 each other's arms, neither speaking a word, both 
 determined and resolute. Paul knew that, if the 
 burglar could get at his revolver, he would shoot 
 to kill, for the man had murder in his face. The 
 one was fighting for life, the other for liberty. 
 They swayed, bent, pushed, twisted; faces near 
 enough to feel each other's hot breath; breasts 
 crushing against each other with awful force; 
 the advantage one time with the burglar and then 
 with Paul; each more determined as the fight 
 went on; now driving one another across the 
 room, then back again to where they started. At 
 last the burglar's foot slipped, which gave Paul 
 a chance to use another of his football tricks, and 
 enabled him to throw the thief, who fell heavily 
 to the floor, striking his head against a sharp 
 corner of the brass fender, over which they had 
 both stumbled in their fearful struggle. 
 
 Quick as lightning, Paul snatched the revolver 
 from the burglar's pocket, and held it over him, 
 prepared to shoot if he attempted to rise. 
 
 The fight between Mr. Saxby and his assailant 
 was less exciting but equally fierce, the burglar's 
 one purpose being to hold the chloroformed 
 sponge against Mr. Saxby's face long enough to 
 compel unconsciousness, and then hasten to the 
 help of his confederate. This he was unable to
 
 26 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 do, Mr. Saxby beating off the burglar's hand 
 again and again, finally flinging his arms around 
 the ruffian's neck, and holding him in such a way 
 that he was powerless. Vainly the fellow tried to 
 get away, and, being a big, burly man of great 
 strength, he dragged Mr. Saxby from the bed 
 and almost to the door. Seeing that he could 
 not escape in any other way, he drew his revolver 
 and fired, first at Mr. Saxby, inflicting an ugly 
 wound, then at Paul, who fired in return. Mak- 
 ing a rush for the stairs, he escaped by the library 
 window. The whole house was soon in an up- 
 roar. The noise of the shooting awoke every 
 one; servants were running here and there, 
 shouting and screaming at the top of their 
 voices. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby came rushing to her husband's 
 room, and, seeing Paul with a smoking revolver 
 in his hand, and Mr. Saxby lying on the floor 
 in a pool of blood, imagined that there had been 
 a fearful quarrel, which had ended in murder. 
 When Miriam came in, though startled and trem- 
 bling, she saw the man over whom Paul was hold- 
 ing the revolver and immediately understood the 
 situation. Paul's clothes were sadly torn, his 
 face covered with dirt and blood, and his look 
 set and fierce, yet to her he seemed more hand- 
 some than a Greek god. 
 
 " Miss Saxby," he said, but without changing 
 his position or altering the direction of the re-
 
 MIDNIGHT VISITORS 27 
 
 volver, " send at once for the nearest doctor, also 
 for the police, or telephone if you can." 
 
 Then to the servants he said : " Bring me a 
 piece of rope, clothes-line, anything you can find." 
 
 There was no need of the rope when brought, 
 for the wretch was so stunned by his fall that 
 the police, who promptly answered the telephone 
 call, had to have a stretcher to carry him to the 
 station. 
 
 Doctor Barrington, the family physician of the 
 Saxbys, was not long in responding to Miss 
 Saxby's appeal. After such an examination as 
 was possible under the circumstances, he said 
 Mr. Saxby's wound, while painful, was not seri- 
 ous, and that he would be all right again in a 
 few weeks. At Mrs. Saxby's urgent request, he 
 consented to remain all night, but assured her 
 there was no cause for special anxiety. 
 
 As Paul had given a general statement of 
 matters to the police, and, having no desire to 
 play the part of hero, he availed himself of the 
 first opportunity of quietly retiring to his room, 
 and, strange to say, was soon fast asleep.
 
 IV. 
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 
 
 I 
 
 T was most fortunate, so far as Mr. Saxby's 
 business interests were concerned, that Paul Bed- 
 ford had been "called to Pelham before the en- 
 counter with the burglars, otherwise much confu- 
 sion and serious financial loss would have resulted. 
 For though, according to Doctor Barrington, the 
 wound was not serious, it kept Mr. Saxby in bed 
 for several weeks, and sadly interfered with 
 many of his plans. To a man of his tempera- 
 ment, this was a grievous affliction, but he re- 
 solved to keep up with affairs at the office. Paul 
 Bedford was therefore installed for the time as 
 private secretary, going to Mr. Saxby's room 
 every morning to receive directions for the day's 
 business, and in the evening making a report, 
 besides bringing from the office letters and tele- 
 grams of special importance. Under this ar- 
 rangement, it was decided that Paul should 
 remain overnight at Pelham, as it allowed more 
 time for consultation with Mr. Saxby, and kept 
 
 him in closer touch with office matters. This was 
 28
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 29 
 
 most essential, as two or three combinations, in- 
 volving vast capital and requiring delicate man- 
 agement, were in progress, and any mishap 
 would not only result in the loss of their control, 
 but also give his rivals an opportunity of costly 
 revenge. 
 
 Mr. Saxby had rivals, dangerous, daring, res- 
 olute, and the fact that he was stretched on a 
 bed, plastered and bandaged and almost helpless, 
 made no appeal to their sense of chivalry. 
 
 Paul Bedford was of inestimable value at this 
 juncture in Mr. Saxby's affairs. With a tact 
 amazing in one so young, he carried out Mr. 
 Saxby's wishes, and brought to a successful issue 
 some complicated and serious commissions. 
 More than once he was compelled to act on his 
 own responsibility, Mr. Crewe flatly refusing to 
 share any obligations. 
 
 "I wouldn't do it, Bedford. If the thing 
 doesn't go through, there will be the devil to pay, 
 and in this case the pay will be pretty steep," 
 said Mr. Crewe one day when Wall Street was 
 full of rumors and things were much unsettled. 
 
 " If Mr. Saxby were here, he would do it," 
 Paul answered, confidently. 
 
 " And I think it is the right thing to do, al- 
 though there is a chance for a big loss," was 
 the reply of Mr. Crewe. 
 
 " Unless something is done, Mr. Saxby's in- 
 terests are liable to be affected/' Paul said.
 
 30 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 "Why not wire him?" 
 
 " There isn't time. Besides, one can't explain 
 things over the wire." 
 
 " Then do as you please, but don't blame me 
 if anything happens." 
 
 That evening Paul told Mr. Saxby what he 
 had done, giving him his reasons for doing it. 
 
 At first Mr. Saxby's eyes had a gleam of dis- 
 pleasure, as if he resented this assumption of 
 authority, but, as Paul went on, a grim smile 
 gathered on his lips, and finally he laughed under 
 his breath. 
 
 " I don't wonder at Mr. Crewe declining such 
 a serious responsibility," he said, " yet your 
 course has my hearty approval." 
 
 Well it might. In buying up, through Mr. 
 Saxby's brokers, three or four large blocks of 
 stock which were thrown on the market, Paul 
 stopped what was intended as a raid, thus frus- 
 trating the plans of a powerful syndicate, who 
 thought the Saxby interests were at their mercy. 
 Not content with this, by a stroke of daring only 
 possible to reckless youth, he so followed up his 
 advantage as to turn a threatened loss into a 
 substantial gain. 
 
 In thinking the matter over when Paul had 
 gone to dress for dinner, Mr. Saxby could not 
 but admire the strategy, the shrewdness, and at 
 the same time the courage of the young secretary. 
 
 " Bedford is proving himself a most useful
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 31 
 
 fellow," he said one evening to Mrs. Saxby, who 
 was in his room after Paul had returned from 
 the office with a general outline of the day's pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby's only reply was a slight elevation 
 of her eyebrows, and an inquiring look at her 
 husband. 
 
 " He is certainly one of the most capable young 
 men I know," Mr. Saxby continued, taking up 
 the memoranda Paul had left, and looking them 
 over. 
 
 " Is he not just a little presuming for one in 
 his position?" Mrs. Saxby asked, the elevation 
 of her eyebrows contriving somehow to get into 
 her voice. 
 
 " I hadn't noticed anything of that kind," Mr. 
 Saxby replied, going on with his examination 
 of the papers. 
 
 " Very likely, but I have," and Mrs. Saxby 
 so placed the emphasis as to make it very ef- 
 fective. 
 
 "In what way?" Mr. Saxby now put the 
 papers down and looked across the room at his 
 wife, who was sitting in an easy-chair by the 
 window. 
 
 " His air, manner, and general assumption of 
 equality," she answered. " One would think by 
 his bearing that he was a person of dignity and 
 wealth. He talks to Miriam about music and 
 art, everything, in fact, in the most familiar way.
 
 32 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 I wonder sometimes that she allows him to do so. 
 Mr. Crewe, though he is your manager, and has 
 been with you for a number of years, wouldn't 
 dare to say or do the things that Mr. Bedford 
 will. To speak plainly, Gaston, he often makes 
 me very angry." 
 
 It was indeed most evident from Mrs. Saxby's 
 tone that she thoroughly disapproved of Paul 
 Bedford, and that not even his services, valuable 
 as they were, compensated for his presence in 
 her household. 
 
 And it cannot be denied that Mrs. Saxby had 
 some grounds for complaint, not, however, so 
 much against Paul, as with the course that mat- 
 ters were taking. During the first weeks after 
 Mr. Saxby's encounter with the burglars, when 
 he required attention, nursing, and care, all out- 
 side engagements of the family were cancelled, 
 and only intimate friends permitted to call. Nat- 
 urally much of Mrs. Saxby's time was spent in 
 her husband's room, particularly in the evening 
 after Paul had made his daily report. She would 
 then read to him an essay of Emerson, or a chap- 
 ter from Ruskin, or a few pages from " The New- 
 comes," a story of which Mr. Saxby was never 
 weary. Mr. Saxby's taste in literature was high, 
 higher considerably than that of his wife, for 
 she thought " The Newcomes " a bore, and under- 
 stood little of either Emerson or Ruskin. Still, 
 having a clear voice, and being by no means a
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 33 
 
 bad reader, she faithfully performed this wifely 
 duty. 
 
 Under these circumstances, Miriam and Paul 
 were left to entertain themselves, a proceeding 
 by no means either difficult or disagreeable. Af- 
 ter dinner they would go to the parlor, where 
 they would chat for awhile, invariably finding 
 topics of mutual interest. Then Miriam would 
 sit down at the piano, not always waiting to be 
 asked, and Paul would turn over the music for 
 her. Frequently she would stop, after playing 
 some special passage, and they would discuss its 
 merits, and then again she would play through 
 piece after piece with rare delicacy and power. 
 Occasionally she would improvise, when Paul 
 would lean back in his chair, where he could see 
 her face in the soft light of the piano-lamp, and 
 follow with exquisite delight the chords and har- 
 monies that came at her will. One moment Paul 
 would catch the glory of a June sunrise, see the 
 birds spring from their nests, hear them twitter 
 and sing in the morning light, listen to the brook 
 gurgle softly on its way ; then he would feel him- 
 self within some stately church, with its richly 
 stained windows filled with mellow light, the al- 
 tar, with its mystic coverings of purple and gold, 
 and the congregation kneeling in adoring silence. 
 Then again he would hear the winds sweep madly 
 through the trees, the cries of the birds flying 
 from the coming storm, and in another instant
 
 34 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the mother's soft lullaby, as she crooned her little 
 one to sleep. More than once Paul imagined 
 that he could almost see the soul of the musician 
 take on visible form, and pass away as a spirit- 
 cloud into the realm of shadow and mystery. 
 
 One evening, after playing a sonata of Chopin, 
 Miriam went to the window and stood there for 
 a few minutes, enjoying the strange beauty of 
 the night. There was no reason for Paul to rise 
 from his comfortable chair and go to that win- 
 dow; nevertheless he did so. And perhaps it 
 was the influence of Chopin's weird, mystic music, 
 or something else, but, when he went to the win- 
 dow, he stood not far from where Miss Saxby 
 was standing. For some time neither spoke, both 
 seemingly absorbed in watching the moon sink 
 behind a mass of clouds, then break through them 
 and come out brighter even than before. Miss 
 Saxby, who had bent forward, resting her hand 
 lightly on the window, now stepped back, and, 
 in doing so, grazed Paul's cheek with her hair; 
 for he also had stooped to have a better look at 
 the moon battling with the clouds. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she whispered, softly. 
 
 Paul replied by gently touching her hand, then 
 taking it in his, where she allowed it to remain. 
 
 Once more a delicious, yet almost painful, 
 silence fell upon them, Miriam finally moving 
 as though she would leave the window. This 
 brought them face to face, and they looked at
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT' 35 
 
 each other, that long, eager, heart-searching 
 look, possible only once in the life of either man 
 or woman, upon which Paul bent down, and, 
 in a voice thrilling with ecstasy, said : " Miriam ! " 
 
 " Paul ! " she answered, and the next moment 
 their lips met, each giving to the other the rap- 
 ture of a new-born love. 
 
 There was little sleep for Paul Bedford that 
 night. On going to his room, he sternly up- 
 braided himself for taking advantage of Mr. 
 Saxby's hospitality, and, in the spirit of a proud 
 Virginian, gave his accusing conscience unstinted 
 freedom. He felt that he had transgressed be- 
 yond all hope of pardon, and that his only course, 
 as an honorable man, was to immediately leave 
 Mr. Saxby's service. 
 
 It is true he had known for some time that 
 Miriam Saxby had realized his supreme ideal of 
 womanhood, but this secret he had resolved to 
 hold as a sacred possession, not sharing it with 
 any one, least of all with the one whom it most 
 concerned. 
 
 And now, in a weak, unguarded moment, he 
 had betrayed himself, and worse, infinitely worse, 
 had taken a cowardly advantage of Miriam. 
 
 Then he thought of how he had struggled 
 against this love which he knew was hopeless, 
 calling upon his pride, his honor, his sense of 
 loyalty, everything that was worthy in him, that 
 he might overcome. And after all he had failed,
 
 36 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 wretchedly, miserably failed. Yes, he would, 
 on the morrow, resign from Mr. Saxby's service, 
 and leave the city, the country perhaps, go any- 
 where or do anything to save himself from fur- 
 ther dishonor. All of the blame for the scene 
 in the parlor he took upon himself. He knew 
 that Miriam was passionately fond of music, 
 keenly susceptible to certain impressions, ex- 
 quisitely sensitive, and, under the mad stress of 
 his intense feeling, would be compelled to yield 
 to his dominating influence. 
 
 So he tossed and tumbled about, spending a 
 wretched, miserable night. 
 
 As a usual thing, Paul breakfasted alone, hav- 
 ing to leave on an early train, but, on the morn- 
 ing following this eventful night, Miriam was 
 in the breakfast-room when he went down. This 
 was a meeting he had dreaded, thinking she would 
 be indignant at his presumption, and in some 
 way show how she regarded his unmanly course 
 in taking advantage of her weakness. 
 
 But, to his surprise, though she flushed a little 
 when he entered the room, it was not a guilty, 
 indignant flush, but an expression rather of glad- 
 ness at his coming, and was accompanied by a 
 look, the meaning of which he could not mistake. 
 
 When the servants were safely out of hearing, 
 she softly murmured : " Good morning, Paul," 
 to which he gratefully responded : 
 
 " Good morning, Miriam."
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 37 
 
 Instantly his midnight fears and scruples 
 passed away as light clouds before a strong wind. 
 His sky was now one deep, eternal blue. The 
 kiss of the night before meant a holy betrothal. 
 Instead of fleeing coward-like, he would remain. 
 To desert one whose love was so manifest would 
 be the act of a craven. Come what would, he re- 
 solved to abide the result. 
 
 She waited while he went to her father's room 
 with some papers that required Mr. Saxby's sig- 
 nature; she went with him to the library, where 
 other papers for the office had to be arranged; 
 then, when he was ready to start, she lifted up 
 her face to his for a parting kiss, and, as the 
 carriage turned the bend of the road, he saw 
 her standing at the window where they had both 
 stood the night before.
 
 V. 
 
 MRS. SAXBY'S INTUITION 
 
 H 
 
 .OW easily the fates, concerning whose 
 movements most of us are seriously troubled at 
 times, could have prevented Paul Bedford from 
 ever going to Pelham! In that case, he would 
 not have met Miriam Saxby, at any rate not 
 under such circumstances as would entitle him 
 to any special place in her heart. As a further 
 result, she would probably have married Clarence 
 Fillmore, a young man of good family, consider- 
 able wealth, of more than average appearance, 
 and by no means deficient in such abilities as 
 are proper to one of his class. 
 
 Clarence was a healthy, wholesome fellow, fond 
 of outdoor sports; could sail a boat as well as 
 a Cape Cod fisherman; shoot better than any 
 other man in the Pelham Club; ride with the 
 daring of a jockey, or drive with the skill of a 
 practised whip; was free with his money, and 
 ready for anything that came along. 
 
 For some months he had been a frequent vis- 
 38
 
 MRS. SAXBY'S INTUITION 39 
 
 itor at the Saxby home; sometimes calling in 
 the morning, when there was a yacht race or 
 a coaching party, to which he would invite Mir- 
 iam; or in the afternoon when there was to be 
 a match game on the golf links, or a tennis tour- 
 nament at the club ; then again in the evening 
 for some special function in Pelham or the re- 
 gions beyond. Most of those who looked on 
 nodded approvingly. Such a proceeding seemed 
 eminently fitting. Clarence was rich, so was 
 Miriam. And money usually marries money. So 
 the good people of Pelham those who were on 
 visiting terms with the Saxbys expected that 
 in due time would come the announcement of the 
 engagement of Clarence and Miriam, and after- 
 ward their wedding, which, of course, would be 
 an event of social magnitude. And, if this pro- 
 gramme had been carried out, it would probably 
 have resulted in as much happiness as ordinary 
 mortals are justified in expecting. 
 
 " What has become of Clarence Fillmore ? I 
 haven't heard anything of him for some time. 
 Every day after the visit of those infernal bur- 
 glars I got a message or an inquiry from him. 
 Has he gone South ? " 
 
 As Mr. Saxby spoke, he closed the book he 
 had been looking at but not reading, and turned 
 to Mrs. Saxby, who had just finished a batch of 
 letters, and was about to shut her desk. 
 
 " He called last week, the day before you came
 
 40 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 down-stairs, I believe," Mrs. Saxby replied, in 
 a tone of assumed indifference. 
 
 " That is at least ten days ago," Mr. Saxby 
 said, in a tone in which there was very manifest 
 surprise. " Did he say anything of going South 
 for the winter ? " 
 
 " No ; he merely called to inquire about you, 
 and stayed only a few minutes." 
 
 " You mean that Clarence Fillmore made a 
 formal call ten days ago, and has not been here 
 since ? " Mr. Saxby's face now showed both sur- 
 prise and resentment. 
 
 " That is just what I mean," Mrs. Saxby re- 
 plied, each word given with judicious delibera- 
 tion. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby rarely lost her temper, however 
 great the provocation, but she had a singular gift 
 of making other people lose theirs. 
 
 " Did he see Miriam when he called ? " Mr. 
 Saxby had known for some months how matters 
 were shaping, and, as Clarence was thoroughly 
 eligible in every way, saw no reason to inter- 
 fere. 
 
 " Yes ; he saw Miriam." 
 
 " Mary, there is something back of all this 
 which I do not understand. Clarence Fillmore 
 has some good cause for remaining away. He is 
 not remarkably brilliant, I admit, neither is he 
 one of your thin-skinned, morbidly sensitive fel- 
 lows, who are so easily offended. I thought
 
 MRS. SAXBY'S INTUITION 41 
 
 everything was plain sailing with him and 
 Miriam." 
 
 " So it was until recently." 
 
 " Has there been a quarrel or misunderstand- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Neither, so far as I can see." 
 
 " Then what is the trouble ? " 
 
 "Paul Bedford." 
 
 " Paul Bedford ! What has he to do with it ? " 
 
 Mr. Saxby's voice, though in its usual con- 
 versational register, had a clear, metallic ring, 
 combined with a measure of intensity. 
 
 " Everything," and, saying this, Mrs. Saxby 
 shut her desk, and, taking up a magazine, began 
 turning over the pages, as though the last word 
 had been spoken. 
 
 " Mary," said Mr. Saxby, in the same tone as 
 before, " you have said either too much or too 
 little. Remember I have been shut up in my 
 room for a month past ; only recently have I been 
 permitted by Doctor Barrington to come down- 
 stairs for an hour or two in the afternoon. I 
 know nothing, therefore, of what you intimate, 
 and your hints are so vague that I must insist 
 on something more definite. You say that Paul 
 Bedford is the cause of whatever trouble exists 
 between Miriam and Clarence. Kindly tell me 
 just what you mean." 
 
 " I cannot tell you, Gaston,'in so many words, 
 for a woman, and particularly a mother, has
 
 42 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 intuitions, instincts, if you will, for which there 
 is no definite language. I merely know that 
 since Mr. Bedford came to this house Miriam 
 has not been the same girl as before. She 
 spends every evening in the parlor with him, play- 
 ing and singing, which, I presume, is all right 
 enough if it would stop there. But she goes down 
 every morning to the breakfast-room, and then 
 waits to see him leave for the city. During the 
 day she is eager and impatient, and several times 
 has made excuses for meeting the train on which 
 he generally arrives from New York. I cannot 
 tell, though I am almost certain, whether she 
 has flowers sent to his room, but every day fresh 
 flowers are on his dressing-table." 
 
 " But what has all this to do with Clarence 
 Fillmore ? " Mr. Saxby asked, barely allowing 
 his wife to finish her sentence. 
 
 " Simply that she ignores Clarence in every 
 possible way. She doesn't go out with him, 
 though he has asked her again and again. He 
 wanted to take her over to the golf links the 
 other day, but she sent an excuse. He wrote, 
 inviting her to go with him to one of the college 
 football games, and she declined. He called here 
 two or three times in the evening, but she was 
 so taken up with . music and Mr. Bedford that 
 he stayed only a few minutes." 
 
 " Has Clarence said anything to you ? " 
 
 " Not by way of complaint, but, when he was
 
 MRS. SAXBY'S INTUITION 43 
 
 going the other day, he left his regards for you, 
 and said he would drop in some day at the office 
 when he knew you were able to go back to the 
 city." 
 
 " And this you took to mean 
 
 " That he did not intend to call here again, 
 at least under present conditions." 
 
 " What is to be done ? " 
 
 " Send Mr. Bedford off to South America, 
 China, to Bagdad, if you have an office there. 
 To dismiss him from your service abruptly would 
 excite remark, particularly as it is known that 
 he had some share in your fight with the bur- 
 glars." 
 
 " Damn the burglars ! " Mr. Saxby said under 
 his breath, then aloud : " but suppose he won't 
 go, what then ? " 
 
 " But he will go. He is young, ambitious, 
 anxious to make his way in the world. Promise 
 him a large increase in salary. Suggest that, 
 by going abroad, he will not only improve his own 
 chances of getting on, but will also be of material 
 use to you. In this way you appeal to both his 
 vanity and self-interest. He is sure to go." 
 
 " And what about Miriam ? " 
 
 " Once Paul Bedford is gone, I can easily take 
 .care of Miriam." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " By simply arranging matters so that they 
 will go back to where they were before you got
 
 44 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 hurt. Miriam is not difficult to manage, and, 
 if Bedford is out of the way, things will soon 
 adjust themselves." 
 
 " I can't imagine that Miriam is so foolish as 
 to think seriously of Bedford." 
 
 "It is only a passing fancy. You know her 
 passion for music, and how delighted she is 
 when at the opera or a concert. Mr. Bedford 
 has doubtless flattered her, and said complimen- 
 tary things about her playing and singing; the 
 rest you can easily imagine." 
 
 They talked- on for some time in much the same 
 strain, and, as Mrs. Saxby saw that Paul Bed- 
 ford's hours at Pelham were numbered, and his 
 days in the country would probably be few, she 
 became more gracious in her manner than for 
 some weeks past. 
 
 Here were father and mother arranging for the 
 disposal of their daughter, as though she were a 
 bale of cotton or a car-load of wheat, taking it 
 for granted that she had neither feelings nor 
 wishes of her own. Without compunction they 
 would tramp ruthlessly across the threshold of 
 that daughter's heart, rend in twain the veil 
 which guarded the sacred shrine, invade the holy 
 of holies in her soul, and compel her outraged 
 womanhood to obey their will. All this, too, 
 under the guise of prudence, and with the sole 
 thought of their daughter's welfare!
 
 VI. 
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 
 
 N: 
 
 EXT morning, when giving Paul Bedford 
 his orders for the day, Mr. Saxby was perhaps 
 more courteous than usual, but it was a formal, 
 precise courtesy, void of either cordiality or pleas- 
 antness. 
 
 " Mr. Walters, I understand, has returned to 
 the office," he said, as Paul was leaving the room. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; he came back on Monday." 
 
 " Is he all right again ? " 
 
 " I think so ; he seems so, at any rate." 
 
 " Tell him but I won't detain you ; it is 
 almost train time," and with a slight wave of 
 his hand, which Paul understood, Mr. Saxby 
 resumed the reading of his letter. 
 
 Paul was not in the best of spirits that morn- 
 ing as he went to the city. Miriam had not 
 come down to the breakfast-room; the meal 
 therefore was a dreary affair, Paul spending 
 most of his time in looking at the door through 
 which she usually entered, or at the clock, whose 
 
 hands moved so swiftly toward the hour when 
 
 45
 
 46 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 he must leave. He sadly missed her " Good 
 morning, Paul," whispered softly, accompanied 
 by a dainty little blush and a look which said 
 so much, but left unsaid so much more. And 
 he missed her presence at the table, where her 
 touch of his coffee-cup, as she filled it from the 
 urn, made it to him a sacred thing, and the 
 coffee a drink worthy of the gods. Were ever 
 movements so graceful as hers! When she said 
 " one lump or two? " he said " two," just to see 
 how daintily she handled the sugar-tongs. And, 
 though he rarefy took cream in his coffee, when 
 she asked him, he said " yes," because of the 
 pleasure it gave him to see her use the pitcher. 
 
 The servants, of course, anticipated most of his 
 wants, but Miriam's mention of a delicacy, or 
 a suggestion that he be helped to it, instantly 
 made it desirable to his eyes. 
 
 With a young man's daring, he would picture 
 Miriam at the head of his table, and there would 
 come upon him an almost uncontrollable desire 
 to bundle the servants out of the room that he 
 might gather her lovingly in his arms. More 
 than all, he missed the blissful moments in the 
 library, moments so rich in rapture that the mem- 
 ory of them filled the whole day with joy. 
 
 No wonder, therefore, that his journey to the 
 city was dull and spiritless compared with that 
 of other mornings. 
 
 To add to his discomfort, he thought of Mr.
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 47 
 
 Saxby's frigid courtesy, dismissing him the mo- 
 ment office matters were arranged. He had 
 intended speaking to Mr. Saxby that morning 
 about Miriam, though she had strongly urged him 
 not to do so, but to wait until a better opportunity 
 presented itself. 
 
 The inquiry concerning Walters also troubled 
 him, for, while he knew that the time was hasten- 
 ing when his work as secretary would cease, 
 he had hoped to continue until Mr. Saxby had 
 fully recovered. 
 
 This meant, according to Doctor Barrington, 
 at least three or four weeks longer, so the pos- 
 sibility of visiting at Pelham and seeing Miriam 
 every day was one of inexpressible delight. 
 
 Fortunately he had a busy day, Mr. Saxby's 
 commissions occupying almost every minute, 
 and, when a young man's thoughts are fully 
 taken up with business, he hasn't much chance 
 to worry over love-affairs. 
 
 Occasionally Mr. Crewe went out to Pelham 
 with Paul, but only when there were matters of 
 special moment, concerning which Mr. Saxby 
 desired his opinion. Paul therefore knew that 
 something of importance had come up during 
 the day when Mr. Crewe said he was going with 
 him on the afternoon train. Mr. Crewe did not 
 mention what the special business was, neither 
 did Paul ask him, both knowing that Mr. Saxby 
 preferred no discussion of his office affairs.
 
 48 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 On going down to dinner, Paul was sorely 
 disappointed in not seeing Miriam, for of late 
 they had frequently been fortunate enough to 
 meet in the parlor before the others came in. 
 He thought something had detained her, and that 
 she would come in later, until he heard Mrs. 
 Saxby say, in response to a polite inquiry of Mr. 
 Crewe : 
 
 " Miss Saxby is quite well. She has gone to 
 Stamford for a few days." 
 
 Poor Paul ! If the breakfast had been such a 
 dull affair, the" dinner was much more so. He 
 tried to engage Mrs. Saxby in some form of 
 conversation, but her replies were so definitely 
 limited that he was forced to give up the attempt. 
 Once or twice he suggested something which 
 might have led to a general table talk, but Mr. 
 Saxby listened politely, and made no response, 
 an example followed carefully by Mr. Crewe. 
 
 What a difference Miriam's absence made! 
 Paul glanced wistfully at the vacant chair, and 
 pictured her bright, eager face, her dark, shining 
 eyes, the quick turn of her shapely head, the smile 
 which was wont to accompany her apt reply, and 
 he could almost hear her rich, vibrant voice, as 
 she narrated some little incident of the day. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby had given him to understand by 
 her general bearing that she regarded him simply 
 as her husband's clerk, and therefore a servant 
 of the household, just as Cooney the coachman,
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 49 
 
 or Mines the butler, else he would have spoken 
 of Miriam, asking possibly when she might be 
 expected home. But he knew that such an in- 
 quiry would be deemed an impertinence. So 
 Paul refrained from any mention of her name, 
 and allowed the dinner to drone through as best 
 it could. 
 
 What the dinner lacked by way of excitement, 
 the conversation in the library supplied, for 
 hardly had Paul finished his coffee before Mr. 
 Saxby turned to him and said : 
 
 " Mr. Bedford, my office manager in Hong- 
 kong has resigned, and, as there are some im- 
 portant concessions left unsettled, I wish you to 
 take charge at once. Passage has been secured 
 on Saturday's steamer. My agent at London will 
 have everything ready for you. Our Hongkong 
 business, as you already know, relates largely to 
 the European markets, so you may have to remain 
 in London for a week or ten days. That, of 
 course, you can decide after seeing how things 
 are in the London office. I need hardly say that 
 this is an unusual opportunity for so young a 
 man, but I am not unmindful of the service you 
 have rendered me. I have talked this matter 
 over with Mr. Crewe, who, I am glad to say, 
 agrees in my selection of you for this responsible 
 position. Of course there will be a substantial 
 increase in your salary, of which Mr. Crewe will 
 speak to-morrow at the office. Mr. Walters is
 
 50 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 coming out in the morning to resume his position, 
 so you are now free to make such preparations 
 as are necessary." 
 
 "To Hongkong?" Paul questioned, almost 
 staggered at the suggestion. 
 
 " Yes," Mr. Saxby answered, taking a cigar 
 from the box on the library-table, but not before 
 offering one to Mr. Crewe. 
 
 "And on Saturday?" Paul said, hesitatingly. 
 
 " Which gives you two days to get ready," 
 Mr. Saxby replied, as he carefully fitted the end 
 of his cigar into the cutter. " My first plan was 
 to have you start to-morrow, but Saturday's boat 
 is faster, and you will be more comfortable." 
 
 " I had no idea of this," Paul said, trying to 
 smile, but the trial was not a marked success. 
 
 " I don't suppose you had, neither had I until 
 Mr. Crewe gave me the cable message from Lon- 
 don soon after you left this morning," and, as 
 Mr. Saxby spoke, he lighted his cigar, motion- 
 ing Mr. Crewe to do the same. 
 
 " I hardly know what to say " Paul was 
 beginning, when Mr. Saxby broke in, speaking 
 with more energy than he generally did : 
 
 " Remember, Mr. Bedford, that I am entrust- 
 ing you with a most serious responsibility. Re- 
 member also that, in accepting this position, you 
 not only advance your own interests, but relieve 
 me from embarrassments which cause me some 
 anxiety."
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 51 
 
 Every word that Mr. Saxby said was true, 
 yet anything more misleading could hardly be 
 imagined. 
 
 He was embarrassed, but not over matters in 
 Hongkong, and he was anxious, but not with 
 regard to Chinese concessions! 
 
 These things Paul did not know, so he an- 
 swered : 
 
 " If you put it in that way, I have no choice 
 in the matter. Of course I will go, and gladly, 
 if by so doing I can serve your interests." 
 
 This time Paul smiled, bravely too, and his 
 voice was tolerably steady. Somehow he was 
 beginning to feel that in rendering this special 
 service to Mr. Saxby he was also serving Miriam, 
 and had the request called for his immediate de- 
 parture to the Siberian mines, he would have 
 given the same reply. 
 
 " Then let me suggest that you return to the 
 city to-night with Mr. Crewe. By this plan you 
 can have all of to-morrow forenoon at the office. 
 If anything occurs of sufficient importance, I 
 will let you know early on Friday, so that, if 
 necessary, you can come out here later in the 
 day. Mr. Crewe will attend to all matters of 
 finance, and you may draw on him for such 
 amounts as you require." 
 
 As the carriage had been ordered for the 
 10.20 train, Paul was excused that he might 
 pack his bag and prepare to leave the Saxby
 
 52 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 home. The packing- was a short affair, for he 
 jammed things into his bag without much regard 
 to the result, so long as they got in. Then he 
 sat down and took a farewell survey of the room 
 in which he had spent so many blissful hours. 
 How well he remembered that eventful night 
 when, with Miriam's kiss upon his lips, and her 
 sweet " Good night, Paul," thrilling in his heart,' 
 he had drawn his chair to the window, and for 
 hours looked out into the darkness and silence. 
 
 There came to him the memory of a yet 
 sweeter hour, when, in answer to the trembling 
 question, she said : " Yes, Paul, I love you, 
 and I love you with all my heart." Then she 
 smiled, and in that smile he had a glimpse of 
 the mysterious radiance which at times fills a 
 woman's soul. 
 
 Not so ecstatic nor rapturous, but none the 
 less grateful, was the memory of another time 
 when she said, cheeringly: 
 
 " Have no fears, Paul. Nothing can ever 
 affect my love for you. I will wait for you no 
 matter how long it may be." 
 
 And now he was ordered off to Hongkong, 
 without so much as a chance to bid her good- 
 bye! 
 
 Leaving his bag in the room, he crept softly 
 down-stairs and quietly entered the parlor. It 
 was, as he expected, empty and dimly lighted. 
 The piano was open just as Miriam had left it
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 53 
 
 the night before, and, going over to it, he stooped 
 down and kissed the keys her fingers so often had 
 touched. Then he moved his hand gently along 
 the keyboard, as if to feel in some way the hand 
 of Miriam. After this, he went to the window, 
 where she had stood on that night which meant 
 for him the beginning of a new life, and, rever- 
 ently kneeling as before a holy shrine, renewed 
 his covenant with her, and took upon himself obli- 
 gations as binding as death. 
 
 This, of course, was all very foolish. And 
 there are those who would have laughed out- 
 right had they witnessed this strange perform- 
 ance. But with Paul it was not in the least fool- 
 ish. Neither was it a performance. Indeed, he 
 was never more serious in his life. The poor 
 fellow's heart was so crowded with sweet memo- 
 ries of Miriam that now, when he was going 
 away, with the possibility of not returning for 
 years, he must say good-bye to something with 
 which she was associated. What, then, better 
 than the piano over which they had spent mo- 
 ments of rare delight, or the spot near the 
 window where they had first kissed each other? 
 
 The next day he was busy with the prepara- 
 tions for his journey, the writing of letters, and 
 in learning something of his new duties. Nat- 
 urally he received all sorts of congratulations 
 and good wishes. His fellow clerks considered 
 him the luckiest fellow in the world. They gath-
 
 54 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 ered about him in the office, saying the pleasantest 
 things imaginable; while sorry to have him go 
 away, they thought such a promotion was a rare 
 streak of good fortune. That same evening his 
 more particular cronies gave him a farewell din- 
 ner, where various speeches were made, all sorts 
 of toasts proposed, every possible suggestion of- 
 fered, and puns, squibs, and rattle-pate nonsense 
 worked off in quantity. Paul had his share of the 
 fun, and laughed with the others, for they were 
 honest, good fellows, who sincerely rejoiced in his 
 prosperity, buf there were times when, through 
 the thick clouds of tobacco smoke, he could see 
 Miriam's face, and over the din of laughter and 
 song he could hear her voice. It was late when 
 the little party broke up, finishing their solemni- 
 ties with that exquisite and pathetic ballad, " For 
 he's a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny." 
 On going to the office next morning, Paul 
 found a letter postmarked " Stamford," and ad- 
 dressed in evidently a lady's handwriting. He 
 wondered if it was from Miriam, though he had 
 not dared to hope for such a thing. As soon as 
 he was by himself in the private office, he eagerly 
 opened the precious epistle. To his great joy, 
 it was from Miriam. 
 
 " MY DEAR PAUL : You were, I know, very 
 much disappointed when you did not see me yes- 
 terday morning, and then to learn last evening
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 55 
 
 that I had gone away without leaving any mes- 
 sage for you. But mamma was most anxious 
 about her sister, who lives in Stamford, and 
 desired me to take the early train from Pelham. 
 This will explain my absence from the break- 
 fast-table, where I officiate, as you say, with such 
 grace and charm ! ' Officiate,' Paul, is not the 
 best word in this case, but I quote from you, 
 and disclaim all responsibility. 
 
 " My Stamford aunt enjoys poor health, and 
 simply delights in drugs, fads, health foods, and 
 revels gloriously in the daily visits of her physi- 
 cian, a dear, nice old gentleman, who settled here 
 soon after Noah concluded to leave the ark. My 
 aunt has no children, which is a pity, as a few 
 lively cousins might cheer this big, gloomy house, 
 besides giving her something to think of except 
 thermometers and foodometers, and every other 
 kind of ometer. It was dreadfully dull here last 
 evening, my aunt's nerves not permitting of my 
 touching the piano; my aunt's trained nurse 
 not allowing me to remain with her illustrious 
 patient after eight o'clock; and my aunt's hus- 
 band going out to his club soon after dinner. But 
 I snuggled down in a big chair in my room, and 
 thought of you ! And how strange that I should 
 do so! 
 
 " I expect to return home on Monday, and, 
 if you are very, very good, I may allow you to 
 sit in the far corner of the music-room while I
 
 56 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 indulge in some digitological harmonies. If, by 
 any manner of means, you could find time to 
 write me between now and Monday, I, on my 
 part, will find time to read your letter from be- 
 ginning to end. ' Good night, Paul ! ' 
 " Ever your own, 
 
 " MIRIAM. 
 " Address, ' The Pines.' " 
 
 Rather a singular love-letter, according to the 
 accepted standard of such communications. But, 
 from the eagerness with which Paul read it and 
 re-read it, smiling here and there as he read, and 
 the rich, glad light that came into his face, not 
 only while he was reading, but every time he 
 thought of it, apparently it answered all the pur- 
 pose of a love-letter. 
 
 If any one had seen him put it away, giving it 
 a place in the same pocket where he carried a little 
 picture of his dead mother, he would have under- 
 stood the valuation Paul put upon this letter of 
 Miriam. 
 
 Just what he said by way of reply is not our 
 affair. It may be assumed, however, that a young 
 man who will kiss piano keys because a certain 
 young lady's fingers have touched them, and 
 kneel on a carpet because the same young lady's 
 feet had stood on that special square, will not fail 
 when he has opportunity to write to that par- 
 ticular young lady. One thing we know he
 
 A HONGKONG APPOINTMENT 57 
 
 wrote a long letter, for he dashed off sheet after 
 sheet, and even double postage barely covered 
 the weight of the envelope when it was sealed 
 and ready for the mail. 
 
 As Paul was to sail on Saturday at noon, the 
 hour when every one was busy in Mr. Saxby's 
 office, he went to the steamer quite early, not that 
 he was anxious to get away, but rather that he 
 might save himself from resigning at the last 
 moment and staying at home! After disposing 
 of his baggage, and being shown to his room, 
 he glanced curiously around the somewhat nar- 
 row quarters where he was to spend a week or 
 more. Then he went on deck and watched the 
 passengers as they came on, studying each group 
 with more or less interest. He noticed a carriage 
 drive up to the gangway, the horses bathed in 
 sweat, as though the driver had urged them for 
 some distance at their utmost speed, and to his 
 amazement who should step out of it but Miriam. 
 He was on the upper deck, but, before Miriam 
 had reached the top of the gangway, he was 
 there to greet her. 
 
 " I was so afraid of missing you," she said. 
 " I got your letter just in time to take an express 
 train, otherwise it would have been too late. 
 Now tell me what all this means." 
 
 By this time they had moved some little dis- 
 tance from the gangway to a part of the deck 
 comparatively secluded.
 
 58 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paul told her of the arrangement by which he 
 was to go to Hongkong, have charge of the 
 office there, and attend to some important mat- 
 ters, at the urgent request of Mr. Saxby. 
 
 " Paul," she said, speaking rapidly, but with 
 marked impressiveness, " I understand now why 
 I was hurried off to Stamford, and you are being 
 sent to China. This is simply a plan to separate 
 us. Some one at Pelham has played the spy, and, 
 as a result, you are going to the other end of the 
 earth. But, Paul, it will not make any difference. 
 Just remember' that. No matter what you hear, 
 or what you read, or what news is sent to you, 
 nothing can affect my love for you. I wanted 
 to say this to you before you went away. So now 
 good-by, and God bless you, my own, own Paul ! " 
 
 " God bless you, my own, own Miriam ! " Paul 
 said in return, though his voice was husky, and 
 his face almost deadly pale. 
 
 " No, don't come with me to the gangway ; 
 stay just where you are. The ship will sail in 
 a few minutes. Good-by once more, Paul, and 
 remember that I will be faithful even unto 
 death." The last words were hardly audible. 
 Paul felt rather than heard them. 
 
 He saw her go down the gangway, reenter the 
 carriage in which she had come, and, just as the 
 tugs began to pull the steamship from her berth, 
 he caught a glimpse of her white face through 
 the carriage window.
 
 VII. 
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 
 
 I 
 
 T may have been a mere chance, but it so 
 happened that Clarence Fillmore was on the 
 steamer, in the saloon, standing near an open 
 port-hole, when Miriam Saxby was bidding Paul 
 Bedford good-by. Some friends of his, the Ver- 
 nons, brother and sister, were going to winter 
 in the Riviera; the brother, because of a throat 
 trouble which threatened to become serious; the 
 sister, because she was fond of her brother, and 
 would not allow him to go alone. If Kitty Ver- 
 non had lived in Pelham, where Clarence Fill- 
 more might have seen her frequently, or in New 
 York, which is a suburb of Pelham, he would 
 have fallen in love with her long ago, and never 
 troubled the Saxby mansion except at certain 
 stately functions. Unfortunately, she resided in 
 Boston, not that such a circumstance implies a 
 misfortune, but because propinquity is usually 
 an important element in these matters. Clarence 
 
 therefore saw Kitty only at rare intervals, though 
 59
 
 60 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 he managed to keep up a rambling correspond- 
 ence with her brother Bert, learning from him 
 of the intended sojourn in Europe. So he had 
 come to see them off. 
 
 " I wish you were coming with us," Bert said, 
 as the three stood chatting in the saloon. " We 
 are going to have a lonely trip. With the ex- 
 ception of the Milltrums, I don't know a person 
 on the list." 
 
 " I should enjoy it immensely," Clarence re- 
 plied, pleasantly, looking, however, not at Bert, 
 but at the trim, tailor-gowned figure of Kitty, 
 who, in a travelling costume of dark gray tweed, 
 a golf cape of Scotch plaid flung loosely over 
 her shoulders, the nattiest little hat imaginable, 
 and with sufficient color in her face to suggest 
 both health and life, presented an appearance 
 far from displeasing to the masculine eye. 
 
 " Are the Milltrums on the list? " Kitty asked, 
 with as much disapproval as a Boston girl ever 
 exhibits in public. 
 
 " Yes," Bert answered, somewhat ruefully. 
 Handing the passenger list to Clarence, he said : 
 
 " Of course, one doesn't expect much of a 
 crowd at this season, but you may know some of 
 these people." 
 
 " Why, yes, here is Bedford, Mr. Saxby's new 
 agent at Hongkong. Mr. Saxby told me last 
 evening about Bedford, but I didn't know he 
 was going on this ship."
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 61 
 
 " Are you sure it wasn't Miss Saxby who told 
 you ? " Bert asked, with assumed gravity. 
 
 " Miss Saxby is at Stamford," Clarence said, 
 hastily ; " I haven't seen her for nearly two 
 weeks." 
 
 There was no need of it, and no seeming cause 
 for it, nevertheless Clarence flushed perceptibly 
 as he spoke, a matter which did not escape the 
 clear eyes of the girl from Boston. 
 
 " Bedford is rather a nice fellow," Clarence 
 went on ; " musical, literary, and all the rest 
 of it. Good-looking, too. Better exercise a 
 brother's authority, Bert, or he may be giving 
 you trouble." 
 
 For some reason, Clarence was anxious to di- 
 vert the conversation from the Saxby channel, 
 another circumstance very patent to the girl from 
 Boston. 
 
 Just then the last warning sounded, so the 
 good-bys were hurried through, and Clarence 
 reached the gangway the same moment as 
 Miriam, both of them going down within a step 
 of each other. He recognized her instantly, but 
 made no sign, and, as she went to the carriage, 
 he walked rapidly to the end of the wharf, re- 
 maining there until the steamer pulled out, when 
 he waved a parting salute to the Vernons. On 
 his way back to the Grand Central Station, Clar- 
 ence devoted most of his thought to Miriam 
 Saxby's unexpected appearance at the steamer
 
 62 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 gangway, until it occurred to him that Mr. Saxby 
 had entrusted her with some message or papers 
 for Paul Bedford, which, in the rush of departure, 
 had been forgotten. 
 
 He had another surprise on entering the sta- 
 tion, for almost the first person he saw was Miss 
 Saxby, waiting evidently for a train. 
 
 " This is a great pleasure," he said, going over 
 to where she stood. " I thought you were in 
 Stamford." 
 
 " That is where I am supposed to be," she 
 answered, quietly, " but there were some matters 
 which called me to the city." 
 
 " So I thought when I saw you at the White 
 Star Pier " 
 
 " Did you see me? " Miriam asked, anxiously, 
 without giving Clarence time to finish his sen- 
 tence. 
 
 " Yes ; some friends of mine were going to- 
 day, and I went to see them off. You left the 
 steamer when I did, in fact, we were on the gang- 
 way together." 
 
 " Are you going home now ? " Miriam 
 asked. 
 
 " On the next train. I hope you are going at 
 the same time." 
 
 " Would it inconvenience you to go to Stam- 
 ford?" 
 
 " Not at all. This is not my busy day," Clar- 
 ence said, smilingly.
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 63 
 
 " Mr. Fillmore," Miriam said, almost as soon 
 as the train moved out from the station, " there 
 are two or three matters of which I wish to speak 
 with you." Then she stopped abruptly, as if 
 afraid to say what she had intended. 
 
 " I am entirely at your service," Clarence said, 
 courteously, wondering meanwhile at Miss Sax- 
 by's eager, nervous manner, something so un- 
 usual with her. 
 
 " I went this morning to see Paul Bedford 
 off," she said. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, observing that she said 
 " Paul." 
 
 " You may have thought it was some business 
 matter that took me to the steamer." 
 
 " Yes, I did think so," Clarence replied, now 
 thoroughly mystified. 
 
 " Well, it was nothing of the kind. No one at 
 home has the faintest suspicion that I have been 
 in New York to-day. I am, as you know, visit- 
 ing with my aunt in Stamford. This morning 
 I learned for the first time that Paul Bedford was 
 going to Hongkong. So I came in on the ex- 
 press, and had just time to see him before the 
 steamer sailed. Now will you kindly say nothing 
 about having seen me. When I return to Pel- 
 ham next week, I will explain matters as best I 
 can, though some things will be difficult and un- 
 pleasant." 
 
 "You mean "
 
 64 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Clarence hesitated that Miss Saxby might the 
 more fully realize what he implied. 
 
 " Yes, I mean everything and anything." 
 Miriam was now desperate. She knew that 
 Paul's ship was steaming swiftly across the sea, 
 every minute taking him farther away from her. 
 She knew also that she had been tricked into 
 going to Stamford with the intent of hindering 
 her from seeing him again. And she knew only 
 too well what would be said when it became 
 known she had gone to the steamer to bid him 
 good-by. 
 
 " Then I am to understand that you and Mr. 
 Bedford " 
 
 " Yes," Miriam interrupted, speaking so softly 
 that Clarence could hardly catch the word. 
 
 It is indeed most true that Clarence was not 
 passionately in love with Miriam Saxby. It was 
 not in his nature to be passionately in love with 
 any one. Easy-going, good-natured, open-minded 
 people seldom are. 
 
 That splendid passion, in whose intense flame 
 pride, ambition, every form of selfishness are 
 eagerly consumed, which makes the craven a 
 hero, and transmutes the common metal into 
 refined gold, was something of which Clarence 
 Fillmore was happily ignorant. Hence Miriam's 
 confession did not plunge him into the depths 
 of despair, nor overwhelm him in a woe from 
 which there was no possible escape. Still, he
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 65 
 
 was disappointed, keenly so, for it had been his 
 hope, and not a distant one either, of winning 
 Miriam's consent to share his home and life. 
 Something of this was expressed in his face, 
 usually so good-natured and pleasant. And this 
 touched Miriam, for she remembered Clarence's 
 marked attentions during the spring and summer 
 months, and her quiet acceptance of them. 
 
 " Clarence," she said, laying her hand tenderly 
 on his arm while speaking, " we have been dear 
 good friends for a long time, and your friend- 
 ship was never more precious to me than at this 
 moment. Therefore, I am trusting you implicitly, 
 and I am speaking to you with all possible frank- 
 ness. I want you to remain my friend. I have 
 great need of you. I know how generous and 
 loyal you are. Won't you help me ? I don't mean 
 simply in the present instance of not speaking to 
 my father about seeing me on the steamer, but 
 when I return home. My people, of course, will 
 be angry and disappointed, but, Clarence, I can't 
 help it, indeed I can't. And, if I have hurt or 
 grieved you in any way, please forgive me." 
 
 If Miriam had been a shrewd, astute, worldly- 
 minded woman, one who had studied carefully 
 how to exercise her wiles and blandishments so 
 as to win her desires, she could not have taken 
 a better way to gain the sympathy of Clarence 
 Fillmore. But she was neither astute nor worldly- 
 minded. A more frank, simple-hearted girl never
 
 66 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 lived. And this Clarence knew. Hence her ap- 
 peal touched him deeply. With a tenderness of 
 which Miriam hardly thought him capable, for 
 naturally his voice was harsh, and his manner 
 somewhat brusque, he said: 
 
 " Miriam, I will not pretend to hide my sur- 
 prise and disappointment. Let me say frankly 
 that I hoped we might have been something more 
 than friends. But that is not going to stand in 
 the way of our friendship at this time, so you 
 can depend on me for any service I can possibly 
 render." 
 
 By this time the train had reached Stamford, 
 where Clarence, after seeing Miriam to a car- 
 riage, returned to the station. Lighting a cigar, 
 he walked up and down the long platform, think- 
 ing over what Miriam had said, and the promise 
 he had given her, concluding, finally, to remain in 
 New York for a couple of days, perhaps longer, 
 thus avoiding a meeting with the Saxbys, and the 
 possibility of embarrassing questions. 
 
 So, on his arrival in the city, he telegraphed 
 to Pelham, saying he would not return before 
 Wednesday or Thursday of the following week. 
 
 As Paul Bedford had never voyaged on an 
 ocean liner before, everything, of course, was 
 strange to him, so he took no part in the scramble 
 for seats at the captain's table, the immense value 
 of such an honor not having dawned upon him.
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 67 
 
 He was accordingly assigned to the purser's table, 
 by no means an undesirable place, for the purser 
 was a genial fellow, who took a personal interest 
 in the passengers entrusted to his care. 
 
 As the Zidonia was sailing easily, the sea be- 
 ing comparatively smooth, most of the passengers 
 were down to dinner, the saloon therefore having 
 the festive appearance usual on the first evening 
 out from New York. 
 
 Paul's chair was at the extreme end, next to 
 that of the purser, who at once entered into con- 
 versation with him, speaking English with a 
 burr distinctly and delightfully Scotch. 
 
 Nearly opposite him, at the table, Paul saw 
 a young and attractive-looking girl, whose dress 
 and bearing suggested Miriam, though in every 
 other way there was no resemblance whatever. 
 This girl was fair, whereas Miriam was dark; 
 this girl had clear gray eyes, while Miriam's 
 were almost black; this girl's features were en- 
 tirely different from those of Miriam; yet there 
 was something in the poise of her small, shapely 
 head, in the smile which at times played on her 
 lips, in the twinkle of suppressed merriment in her 
 eyes, which reminded him of Miriam, and he 
 found himself wondering who she was, and if 
 by some chance he might be introduced to her. 
 Sitting next to her was a young man who re- 
 sembled her in many ways, so Paul instantly 
 made up his mind they were brother and sister.
 
 68 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 After dinner he went to the smoking-room, 
 where the formalities are seldom oppressive, and 
 soon Bert Vernon came in, taking the next chair 
 to that of Paul. 
 
 " As we are to have the pleasure of sitting 
 opposite to each other, at the same table, for the 
 next seven days, suppose we exchange cards," 
 Bert said, pleasantly, bringing out his card-case 
 and giving one to Paul. 
 
 " Thank you," Paul replied, as he took the 
 card, and gave his in return. 
 
 "Well, this -is a piece of rare luck!" Bert 
 remarked, heartily. " Clarence Fillmore was on 
 the steamer to see us off, and he looked every- 
 where for you that he might introduce us." 
 
 "Mr. Fillmore, of Pelham?" Paul asked, 
 anxiously, wondering if he had seen Miriam 
 on the steamer. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Fillmore of Pelham, though I 
 knew him in Harvard, where, like myself, he 
 was the bright particular star of the faculty, the 
 white-haired boy of every Don in Cambridge." 
 
 Paul smiled. 
 
 " You evidently are acquainted with Mr. Fill- 
 more, whose insatiable thirst for classic lore so 
 distinguished him that he haunted the gymna- 
 sium, made daily visits to the ball grounds, pulled 
 stroke oar in every race, and developed muscle 
 enough to wrestle with an ox." 
 
 Bert rattled off this tribute to Clarence Fill-
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 69 
 
 more in such a lively fashion that Paul laughed 
 heartily. 
 
 " He is one of the best fellows in the world," 
 Bert went on, " true as steel, straight as a gun- 
 barrel, couldn't do a mean thing if he tried, and 
 is good stuff clear through." 
 
 Though Paul knew almost nothing of Clarence 
 Fillmore, having met him only once or twice at 
 the Saxbys', he was glad to hear young Vernon 
 speak so warmly and pleasantly of him. Then 
 they chatted of other things, and before their 
 cigars were half through each had formed a 
 kindly opinion of the other. 
 
 " I want you to meet my sister," Bert said, 
 as they both left the smoking-room. " She is 
 a first-rate sailor, far better than I am. I gen- 
 erally go under the second day out, but she keeps 
 up all the way over. I wish I could, but one 
 can't have everything in this world." 
 
 Miss Vernon was found snugly ensconced in 
 the reading-room. She smiled pleasantly when 
 Paul was introduced, and her reception was all 
 the more cordial because the Milltrums, who 
 were on the other side of the reading-room, had 
 suggested only a few minutes before that she 
 seemed lonely and out of spirits. 
 
 The Milltrums had seats at the captain's table, 
 within easy speaking distance of that mighty 
 potentate, and as a consequence thought they 
 owned the ship and all that it contained.
 
 70 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 True to his promise, Bert disappeared about 
 noon the following day, as also many others, for 
 the Atlantic in December has whims and fancies 
 of its own which are not to be trifled with. 
 
 Kitty Vernon and Paul Bedford had, there- 
 fore, ample opportunity to form a delightful 
 acquaintance. Sometimes the weather would 
 not permit of a deck promenade, for the Zidonia 
 lurched and rolled in such fashion that walking 
 was almost impossible, and then at other times 
 not only would the spray fall in sheets, drench- 
 ing those who" were unluckily on deck, but an 
 occasional plunge of the ship would send floods 
 of water well-nigh the entire length of the ves- 
 sel, more than once doing considerable mischief. 
 
 But Miss Vernon and Paul went out when- 
 ever it was possible, and though not always able 
 to escape the spray, and having more trouble to 
 keep their feet than either of them bargained 
 for, their experiences were amusing rather than 
 hazardous, and they would laugh heartily at their 
 mishaps. 
 
 After a time they began to talk of matters 
 other than books and music and art, and ere long 
 the name of Miss Saxby was mentioned. Paul 
 never knew just how Miss Vernon managed to 
 lead the conversation up to that point, but she 
 did, and adroitly, not because of any wish to 
 pry into Paul's affairs, but for reasons of her 
 own.
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 71 
 
 Nor did he ever learn how she discovered the 
 real condition of affairs, but she did, and the dis- 
 covery gave her sincere pleasure. Then they 
 began to talk freely, at least Paul did, and long 
 before the Irish coast was within hailing dis- 
 tance, Kitty Vernon knew most of the hopes 
 and ambitions with which Paul Bedford's heart 
 was filled. 
 
 Oh the sixth day out, a dense fog had settled 
 down, compelling the ship to creep along at less 
 than half-speed, and the big horn was sounded 
 every few minutes. A sense of danger began 
 to overspread the Zidonia. The passengers re- 
 membered that they were now approaching the 
 Irish coast, where many a noble ship had met 
 disaster. 
 
 Those who had lain languidly on sofas and 
 steamer-chairs, carefully tended by the stewards, 
 now bestirred themselves, and more than one 
 face began to show signs of anxious dread. As 
 the day wore on, and night shadows mingled 
 with the fog, the anxiety increased, the captain's 
 absence from the dinner-table adding to the gen- 
 eral alarm. Here and there little groups formed 
 in the library, talking softly, so unlike the hilarity 
 usual at this hour. 
 
 " The Zidonia is one of the best ships in the 
 Atlantic service. Captain Bruce is a thorough 
 seaman, and has had many years experience, but 
 a fog on the Irish coast is nasty, and makes hard
 
 72 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 sailing," the purser said, in reply to Paul Bed- 
 ford, who spoke to him soon after nightfall. 
 
 " What would you advise ? " Paul asked, won- 
 dering if it would not be well to warn Vernon, 
 and thus be prepared for any emergency. 
 
 " That you try to make things as lively as 
 possible in the saloon. Get up some kind of a 
 concert or entertainment. Start the young peo- 
 ple to sing, or anything else you can. Whatever 
 danger there is does not threaten us to-night. 
 We are still a long way from the coast. Per- 
 haps the fog may lift before morning; then we 
 can see where we are." 
 
 So Paul bustled around enlisting such help 
 as he could find, asking one to sing, another to 
 play, another to recite, doing it in such a bright, 
 cheery way, that the passengers temporarily 
 forgot the dangers of which they had all been 
 speaking but a few minutes before. 
 
 In the morning the fog had not lifted ; it was, 
 if anything, more dense than before. Again 
 the captain was absent from the table, and it 
 was known that he had spent all night on the 
 bridge. The big ship groped its way through 
 the encircling mist as a man would in the dark- 
 ness, lifting its voice with a strange pathos, as 
 though appealing to the coast for some answer- 
 ing sign. But no sound broke the stillness save 
 the churning of the sea, and the slow, measured 
 stroke of the engines. Every ear was strained.
 
 DANGERS OF THE SEA 73 
 
 Every eye was keen. Every heart was throb- 
 bing intently. It was now suspected that the 
 ship was out of its course, and any moment 
 might strike the awful rocks where so many 
 others had struck. 
 
 Bert and Kitty Vernon were standing with 
 Paul on the deck, not far from the boat of which 
 the purser would have command in case the boats 
 were lowered. Bert was no coward, but he was 
 a semi-invalid, and the raw, pitiless fog almost 
 choked him. Turning to Paul, he said : " If 
 anything happens, look out for Kitty." 
 
 Kitty tried to smile reassuringly, and was 
 about saying something to cheer Bert, when the 
 great ship rushed upon the reefs, whose teeth 
 tore through the plates of steel as a giant saw 
 ripping its way through soft boards. Then 
 followed a scene in which some men, like raging 
 demons, fought their way over one another that 
 they might reach the boats at the davits, tram- 
 pling down in their mad fury helpless women and 
 children. 
 
 " Stand back there ! " Paul said to a big burly 
 fellow, who was pushing his way to the purser's 
 boat, followed by a dozen or more equally brutal 
 and selfish. 
 
 The man made no reply, but pushed on, when 
 Paul, maddened by this display of cowardice, 
 with one blow sent him sprawling to the deck. 
 
 Another frightened wretch met the same ter-
 
 74 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 rible fist, for Paul was so enraged that his blows 
 were as those of a trip-hammer. 
 
 " Lower the boats ! Women and children 
 first. The men must wait. The first man to 
 enter a boat without permission I will shoot," 
 came in trumpet tones from the captain, who 
 was standing on the bridge. Kitty Vernon re- 
 fused to leave Bert, and no entreaty or persua- 
 sion had the least effect on her. Her face was 
 pale, for the awful scene deeply moved her, but 
 her lip did not quiver as she saw the purser's 
 boat lowered, and when filled with an anxious, 
 struggling company, pull away into the fog. 
 
 " I will go with you, Bert, not before," she 
 answered, calmly, and neither did she, and it 
 was with Bert and Paul as well that she left the 
 ill-fated Zidonia, their boat being the last to pull 
 away.
 
 VIII. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 HE Misses Milltrum, so recently favored 
 guests at the captain's table, from which lofty 
 place of social honor they rarely condescended to 
 less distinguished passengers, made a sorry ap- 
 pearance as they huddled in the stern of the boat 
 into which so many had been crowded. That 
 an accident could happen to the steamer which 
 carried such persons and fortunes as theirs never 
 once occurred to them. So they had made light 
 of the suggestions and fears which troubled wiser 
 and more experienced travellers, and, as if to 
 emphasize their disregard of all warnings, came 
 to the table in dainty breakfast gowns, and after 
 breakfast fluttered about the saloon in genuine 
 butterfly fashion. When the Zidonia ran on the 
 rocks, and it was feared she would soon founder, 
 they had hardly time to rush to their rooms, 
 gather up the first cloak or shawl that came to 
 hand, and then hasten to the deck, which by 
 this time was crowded, and in fearful confusion. 
 Hundreds of Italians returning home for the 
 
 76
 
 76 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Christmas holidays; scores of Germans and 
 Irish bent on the same errand; women with 
 children in their arms and with others cling- 
 ing to their skirts had come up from the steerage, 
 and their cries, screams, shouts, entreaties, were 
 heartrending. 
 
 Boat after boat pushed off, but each one with- 
 out the Milltrums, for they were helpless in such 
 a rough and brutal company. Even the stewards, 
 who had waited on them with such solicitude, 
 passed them by without a thought or a glance, 
 and as they stood shivering in their thin silken 
 gowns, they looked helpless and forsaken. 
 
 Paul Bedford, however, came to their rescue. 
 Not for a moment did he think of the cold stares 
 they had given him, or the icy indifference with 
 which they had regarded him, since making the 
 discovery that he was in the service of Mr. Saxby. 
 Paul only remembered that they were helpless 
 women, whose lives, like that of his own, were 
 in deadly peril, and whom he was bound to assist 
 by all possible means. So he helped them into the 
 boat, gave them his heavy ulster, and tried to 
 make them as comfortable as was feasible under 
 the circumstances. And they were most grateful, 
 for at heart they were well-meaning women, but, 
 like many others, had allowed a little money to 
 turn their heads. 
 
 The Milltrums, however, as they shivered 
 under Paul's ulster, determined, if they ever had
 
 LONDON 77 
 
 the opportunity, to repay something of their ob- 
 ligations to the young man who had so befriended 
 them. 
 
 Bert and Kitty were much better off so far 
 as raiment was concerned, for a hint from the 
 purser had enabled Paul to warn them of what 
 might happen at any moment. To sit cramped 
 and stiff in an open boat for long, weary hours, 
 in the chill wind of a December day, enswathed 
 by a mist so thick that the keenest eye could 
 not see the boat's length ahead, meant for all 
 of them a time of suffering and anxiety. Bert 
 Vernon was the first to weaken, for the pitiless 
 fog started his cough, and though the poor fellow 
 made heroic efforts to control himself, and smiled 
 bravely after each racking spasm, it was very evi- 
 dent he was in a bad way. The boat was so 
 crowded that any change of position seemed 
 impossible, and though the men pulled bravely 
 at the oars, the choppy sea and the head wind, 
 but most of all the dense fog, made progress 
 fearfully slow. 
 
 Ship-bread and water were served out during 
 the afternoon, but few could eat or drink, nearly 
 all being so benumbed with cold as to have no 
 desire for anything but warmth. Then it began 
 to grow dark, and there seemed every prospect 
 of another night even more dreary and dismal 
 than the one before, when a ship's horn was 
 heard in the distance, followed by the beat of
 
 78 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 paddles. A great shout was at once raised, the 
 men yelling at the tops of their voices, and some 
 of the women joining in the scream. Then the 
 ship's horn sounded more clearly, the paddles 
 beating just fast enough to give the vessel steer- 
 ageway. Another shout was now raised, this 
 time even louder and stronger than before, for 
 hope had entered into every breast, and fear as 
 well, for a collision with the unknown steamer 
 would mean death to nearly all on the boat. 
 This shout was answered by the paddles ceasing 
 to churn, followed by a long blast from the horn, 
 and then a succession of short blasts. Again the 
 Zidonia's boat made eager response, and the men 
 at the oars pulled with all their might in the 
 direction of the unseen ship, which again and 
 again sent out its cheering sound. At length 
 there loomed up out of the fog and darkness 
 a channel steamer, over whose sides leaned almost 
 every man on board, and soon the benumbed, 
 well-nigh frozen passengers of the Zidonia were 
 receiving such care as the warm-hearted British- 
 ers could bestow. The next day they were 
 landed at Liverpool, where most of them re- 
 mained to hear from the other boats on which 
 they had friends and relatives. The Vernons, 
 with Paul Bedford, hastened on to London, 
 Kitty being anxious to reach the Riviera at the 
 earliest possible moment, for she had much
 
 LONDON 79 
 
 cause to fear the results of the exposure and 
 cold on Bert. 
 
 Paul received a cordial welcome at the London 
 office from Mr. Shellard, the manager in charge, 
 and by him was shown such of the sights and 
 lions of the huge metropolis as are usually sought 
 by tourists. Of course he admired the Abbey 
 and the Tower, St. Paul's, and the Houses of 
 Parliament, but he felt lonely and depressed. 
 The city was gay, for it was almost Christmas, 
 the festival of all others dear to English hearts. 
 But he had an unutterable longing for New 
 York, not for New York in itself, but because 
 it was within half an hour of Pelham! More 
 than once he would leave the office and wander 
 along the streets, looking into the shop-windows, 
 where there were so many beautiful things he 
 wanted to buy for Miriam. 
 
 In Bond Street he imaginatively selected pearl 
 necklets, diamond brooches, rings and pins of 
 exquisite design, more than enough to have 
 swamped a fortune. He associated Miriam with 
 every pretty thing he saw, and in fancy bought 
 her at least a thousand Christmas gifts, following 
 each one with his heart's desire. When he went 
 to St. Paul's on Sunday morning, as the organist 
 played something from " The Messiah," he 
 thought of Miriam and the unaffected pathos 
 with which one evening she had sung, " He was 
 despised." Going early that same afternoon to
 
 80 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Westminster Abbey, his heart throbbed wildly as 
 he saw, in a party of Americans, who were being 
 escorted by the verger to a prominent pew, a 
 girl who reminded him of Miriam. Indeed, so 
 completely were his thoughts taken up by her, 
 that if, when he was standing on some street 
 corner undecided as to which turn he ought to 
 take, a policeman should have suddenly asked 
 him his name, he would most likely have instantly 
 replied, "Miriam Saxby!" 
 
 With what rejoicing, therefore, did he receive 
 a letter with the Pelham postmark, dated a few 
 days after he had left New York. 
 
 Parts of this letter are too tender for such 
 coarse, harsh things as printer's type. We must 
 therefore in this case be content with a scrap 
 here and there. 
 
 "... I have reason to think that my visit 
 to Stamford was planned, just as the opening 
 in Hongkong was made for you. But it is too 
 late. I am yours for time and eternity, just as 
 you are mine. And I now withdraw my obli- 
 gations of secrecy. On the way home last Sat- 
 urday I told Clarence Fillmore how matters 
 stood. He was on the steamer seeing some 
 friends off, and we met in the station. He has 
 promised to be my friend, and that promise he 
 will keep. At the first good opportunity I intend 
 speaking to papa, for I will not allow him to 
 think that everything is not fully understood
 
 LONDON 81 
 
 between us. He is likely to be angry, for rea- 
 sons which you understand, but that will make 
 no difference. It would not surprise me if he 
 requested your resignation, for which I am al- 
 most hoping, as then you would soon be home 
 again. And remember, Paul, when you are 
 ready to take me, I am ready to go. I dearly 
 love my parents and my beautiful home, but the 
 love that I have for you means a thousandfold 
 more to me than houses or money or anything 
 else! Don't forget that. You are now a part 
 of my life, not simply an essential to my happi- 
 ness, but to my very being. ... I am eagerly 
 looking for a letter from you, and I need not 
 say, am wishing for you a pleasant trip, for I 
 write this as you are on the sea." 
 
 That evening Paul wrote a frank, manly letter 
 to Mr. Saxby, which he carried to the General 
 Post Office in St. Martins Le Grand, to secure 
 its going out on the morning mail. It is need- 
 less to say that the same mail carried a much 
 longer letter to Miriam. 
 
 Walking down Regent Street early one after- 
 noon, Paul met the Milltrums, who greeted him 
 very cordially, and insisted on his dining with 
 them that evening at the Langham. He made 
 various excuses, but they would not be refused, 
 and urged him so strongly that to decline would 
 have seemed a discourtesy. After dinner Miss 
 Milltrum, a keen, shrewd woman of at least
 
 82 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 thirty-five, Maud, her sister, possibly five years 
 younger, led Paul to speak of his proposed trip 
 to Hongkong, and his position there as agent 
 for Mr. Saxby. 
 
 " A young man such as you should not be 
 compelled to go to Hongkong," Miss Milltrum 
 said, in her sharp, decisive way. 
 
 " Beggars can't be choosers," Paul replied, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " I wouldn't go to Hongkong for all the Mr. 
 Saxbys between here and the North Pole," Miss 
 Maud said, with even more decision than her 
 sister. 
 
 "Why?" Paul asked, looking first at one, 
 then at the other. 
 
 " Why should a trained, keen-witted Amer- 
 ican waste himself in a life which has no possi- 
 bilities whatever? " 
 
 It was Miss Milltrum who spoke, holding her 
 hand so as to shield her face from the flaring 
 firelight, meantime steadily regarding Paul. 
 
 " I am considered a most fortunate person," 
 Paul replied, " almost every man in the office 
 envies me. Some of them seem to think that I 
 have fallen heir to ' Jacob's ladder/ and can 
 easily climb from the stone pillow of poverty to 
 the heaven of wealth and prosperity." 
 
 " An agent of Mr. Saxby at Hongkong re- 
 sembles an umbrella which has its biggest and 
 best spread at the first opening. An umbrella,
 
 LONDON 83 
 
 Mr. Bedford, has neither ideals nor possibilities." 
 This time Miss Milltrum the younger was the 
 speaker. 
 
 For some reason the Misses Milltrum did not 
 like Mr. Saxby. That was very evident. 
 
 " You have been exceedingly kind to us, Mr. 
 Bedford," Miss Milltrum said, speaking with 
 some feeling, " and we are under obligations 
 which we can never hope to repay. It is, of 
 course, very thoughtless of us, though we do 
 not mean any unkindness, I assure you, to dis- 
 courage your going to Hongkong. But should 
 you for any reason give up your appointment 
 there, do us the great favor of communicating 
 with the Milltrums of Chicago, who have im- 
 portant interests in that city. I wanted to say 
 this to you, and perhaps we may have the privi- 
 lege of proving that we are not ungrateful." 
 
 Before Paul could reply, Miss Milltrum went 
 on, but in much lighter vein: 
 
 " Having disposed of these business prelimi- 
 naries, if you have no other engagement for the 
 evening, will you kindly take us to the Lyceum? 
 Irving is there playing in ' The Bells,' and we 
 are most anxious to see him. My sister thought- 
 fully secured a box, and the carriage is ordered 
 for eight." 
 
 Paul understood perfectly the tact and delicate 
 courtesy of the Milltrums in this arrangement, 
 and immediately accepted their invitation.
 
 84 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 That evening, as he intently studied Irving, 
 Paul Bedford entered into the realm of the oc- 
 cult and mysterious, nor was it so much by the 
 arts and stage tricks of the actor, as through the 
 suggestions which were made to his own mind. 
 If the wretched innkeeper in a dream, when 
 under the supposed influence of a mesmerist, 
 must needs go back many years in his life, and 
 reenact the tragedy of which he was such a ter- 
 rible figure, why not have reincarnations in other 
 forms and even more impressive conditions? 
 Was not the innkeeper's dream as real as the 
 thoughts and life of his waking hours? With 
 bated breath he followed every movement of 
 Irving, whose acting as the innkeeper is so power- 
 ful that even the most dull and unimaginative 
 are strangely moved by it. 
 
 The Milltrums, hardened playgoers as they 
 were, did not so much as whisper all the time 
 Irving was on the stage. Paul thought of 
 Miriam, so keenly sensitive, so easily moved by 
 everything that appealed to her higher nature, 
 so deeply affected by certain phases of thought 
 and emotion, and he wondered if, when Irving 
 went to New York, she would go to see him. 
 How her eyes would fill with light, her face 
 become strangely tense, her lips quiver with 
 suppressed excitement! He could see her lean- 
 ing eagerly forward lest a word or movement 
 should escape her, and he could almost hear her
 
 LONDON 85 
 
 sigh of relief when the curtain fell, and the lights 
 turned up again. 
 
 Going back to the Langham, very little was 
 said, each one seemingly working out the prob- 
 lem so powerfully given at the Lyceum. 
 
 Having mastered, at least in part, some of the 
 principal features of Mr. Saxby's interests in 
 Hongkong, Paul began to make his preparations 
 for leaving London. Passage was engaged on 
 the P. & O. steamer, which sailed from the East 
 India docks the Saturday following, and as the 
 Zidonia did not prove such a wreck as was at first 
 feared, Paul secured his baggage containing the 
 outfit he had bought in New York. One morn- 
 ing, on going to the office, Mr. Shellard handed 
 him a cablegram which read : 
 
 " Have made other arrangements for Hong- 
 kong you are no longer in my service. Mr. 
 Shellard will settle all financial matters with you. 
 
 " GASTON SAXBY." 
 
 Paul turned deadly pale, and for the moment 
 was completely stunned, but he suddenly remem- 
 bered that Miriam had written : " It would not 
 surprise me if he requested your resignation, for 
 which I am almost hoping, as then you would 
 soon be home again." 
 
 "What is the trouble?" Mr. Shellard asked,
 
 86 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 seeing how excited Paul was. Paul simply 
 handed him the cablegram. 
 
 " What have you been doing? " he then asked, 
 not unkindly, for he had taken quite a liking to 
 Paul. 
 
 " Nothing to warrant this," Paul answered, 
 taking the cablegram from Mr. Shellard's hands, 
 and reading it once more. 
 
 "No scrape or foolery on the other side? 
 No trouble about money matters? Things, you 
 know, always look a thousand times worse when 
 a fellow is nof there to explain them." Mr. 
 Shellard had genuine sympathy in his tone. 
 
 " The head and front of my offence is this," 
 Paul said, grimly, " I have presumed to fall in 
 love with Miss Saxby, and have been honest 
 enough to ask her father to approve." 
 
 Mr. Shellard looked at Paul in silent amaze- 
 ment. That he, a clerk in Mr. Saxby's office, 
 should have had the effrontery to raise his eyes 
 to Miss Saxby, and actually write to her father 
 proposals of marriage, seemed to him audacity 
 of such proportions as to be almost sublime! 
 
 " And you call that nothing," he said, when 
 his astonishment had so far subsided as to admit 
 of speech. 
 
 " Nothing to be ashamed of," Paul answered, 
 hotly, " and certainly nothing to warrant instant 
 dismissal from his service, as if I were a common 
 messenger or office-boy."
 
 LONDON 87 
 
 " Now, Bedford, you surely have sense enough 
 to know that Mr. Saxby couldn't possibly retain 
 you as one of his agents, after such a prepos- 
 terous suggestion." 
 
 " There was nothing preposterous about it," 
 Paul replied, as hotly as before. 
 
 " Let us look at it calmly for a minute. Here 
 you are a young man with hardly salary enough 
 to pay your way, and a prospect of spending five 
 or ten years of life in Hongkong. Under these 
 conditions you write to Mr. Saxby, proposing 
 marriage with his daughter, a young lady who 
 has never known anything but luxury, and no 
 more fitted for a poor man's wife than I am to 
 be Archbishop of Canterbury. My dear fellow, 
 the thing is absurd! Of course I am sorry for 
 you, very sorry, and if I had known that you 
 intended making such a proposal I would have 
 tried to dissuade you. Nothing can be done 
 now. The only question is, what are you going 
 to do? I would advise you to remain in Lon- 
 don. Mr. Saxby has considerable influence in 
 New York. And these big firms stand in to- 
 gether on certain lines. So the chances are that 
 he will block your way. You would do better 
 to stay here. That is my honest opinion." 
 
 And Mr. Shellard meant every word of it. 
 Not even the chance to be elected governor of 
 the Bank of England would have kept Paul 
 Bedford on the other side of the Atlantic, with
 
 88 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Miriam Saxby in Pelham. Indeed, after the 
 first shock of his summary dismissal had passed, 
 he actually felt a sense of relief, and hastened 
 to the shipping office to secure passage on the 
 first steamer for New York. 
 
 That evening he called at the Langham to 
 see the Milltrums, who next day were going to 
 Nice for the winter. 
 
 " So you are not going to Hongkong ! " Miss 
 Milltrum said, eagerly, when he had spoken of 
 the other arrangements Mr. Saxby proposed. 
 
 Naturally he -made no reference to his dis- 
 missal from Mr. Saxby's service, for that would 
 probably have opened the way to other matters, 
 and brought Miriam's name into the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " I am glad of it," Miss Maud said. " Now 
 let me say that we have written to the Chicago 
 Milltrums, and if you think of leaving New 
 York, don't forget your promise. The Chicago 
 Milltrums may not be quite so prominent as Mr. 
 Saxby, but they are fully as honorable." 
 
 The emphasis given to the term " honorable " 
 was most distinct. 
 
 Within two days Paul Bedford was again on 
 the Atlantic, and the New Year had hardly well 
 announced itself before he was back in New 
 York.
 
 MR. 
 
 IX. 
 
 NEW YORK AND HARD TIMES 
 
 !.. SHELLARD proved a true prophet. 
 The mysterious but powerful influence of Mr. 
 Saxby thwarted Paul Bedford continually, and 
 offices which, a few months before, would have 
 eagerly made place for him, coldly turned his 
 applications aside. While nothing was said 
 which reflected in any degree on the young 
 man's integrity, Mr. Saxby being far too 
 shrewd for that, there was a hazy, undefined 
 suspicion suggestively whispered, a suspicion 
 far more injurious than a frank, positive charge. 
 Leaving Mr. Saxby's service just after his ap- 
 pointment to Hongkong; receiving his dismissal 
 by cable; without Mr. Saxby's name as one of 
 his references, and refusing to offer any expla- 
 nations, were matters too serious for business men 
 to overlook. So Paul received either scant favor 
 or curt refusal. His former office associates 
 avoided him as though he had the plague. He 
 wrote to Mr. Crewe, with whom he had been 
 
 on the most friendly terms, but received no reply. 
 
 89
 
 90 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Fortunately, he had been able to return to his 
 boarding-place on Washington Square, and so 
 far Mrs. Figgis had received proper response 
 to the neatly-folded bill, which every week 
 nestled under his plate. But as the weeks went 
 by, Paul saw that things were growing serious. 
 He went from place to place making inquiries; 
 he answered newspaper advertisements; he of- 
 fered to do almost any kind of office work, but 
 when asked, " In what office were you last ? " 
 or " Why did you leave Mr. Saxby ? " he had 
 no reply except a proud silence, which nothing 
 could break. This usually ended the interview. 
 So it went on from week to week. There came 
 a time when his little stock of money was ex- 
 hausted and there were days when he knew 
 the meaning of actual hunger. He struggled 
 on, pawning some little trinkets that had be- 
 longed to his mother, and finally the gold watch, 
 once a cherished possession of his father. All 
 this time he heard nothing from Miriam, though 
 not once did he question her loyalty or affec- 
 tion. 
 
 Finally he remembered a college classmate 
 on the staff of The Gotham Gazette, and through 
 him was introduced to the news editor, who re- 
 ceived him kindly. At first, by doing odd jobs 
 in the office and scribbling a little now and then, 
 he managed to earn enough to meet the claims 
 of Mrs. Figgis, but not much more. After a
 
 NEW YORK AND HARD TIMES 91 
 
 few weeks he did better, and was given assign- 
 ments of some importance. 
 
 " Saxby, of Pelham, is going to have a big 
 blowout, and wishes us to send a reporter to 
 his house to-morrow evening. Grey was going, 
 but the chief has sent him to Washington. Fix 
 up and go along, Bedford; it will pay you." It 
 was the news editor who spoke, looking at Paul, 
 who was making up copy he had just returned 
 from gathering. 
 
 To go to Pelham! To be in the same house 
 with Miriam once more! To see her, perhaps 
 even speak with her! In a moment all this 
 flashed upon Paul, and his heart throbbed wildly. 
 But in another moment he realized the impossi- 
 bility of accepting this assignment. Mr. Saxby 
 would instantly recognize him, and a scene prob- 
 ably follow. 
 
 " Can't Wilkins go ? " he asked the news 
 editor, referring to a member of the staff, who 
 usually took care of society matters. 
 
 " No, there is a wedding at the Vanderplonks, 
 and later the McFoosilum's ball." 
 
 " All right," Paul answered, desperately, re- 
 solved to find some excuse for declining this 
 unexpected duty. 
 
 As he thought it over, there came into his 
 mind such an overwhelming desire to see Miriam, 
 that he determined to go, regardless of conse- 
 quences.
 
 92 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 The gathering at the Saxbys' was a brilliant 
 affair. The big house was lighted from top to 
 bottom. Potted plants in endless variety and 
 profusion filled up nooks, chinks, corners, so as 
 to suggest rooms and spaces beyond; the Saxby 
 hothouse furnished all manner of flowers, and 
 so lavishly that for once the decorators had more 
 than enough to work out their designs; an or- 
 chestra of trained musicians were cunningly 
 hidden behind a screen of palms, thus softening 
 their music and imparting to it the quality of 
 distance; the most fashionable caterer of New 
 York, Tortoni, of Broadway, had charge of 
 the refreshments, and, so far as money and good 
 taste were concerned, nothing was left undone 
 to make the evening one of rare enjoyment. 
 
 Mr. Saxby had a double purpose in this cele- 
 bration to announce definitely his own full 
 restoration to health, and give his friends an 
 opportunity to offer their congratulations; and 
 also to impress some English capitalists, who 
 had come over on promoting enterprises. Mr. 
 Saxby invariably had two strings to his bow, 
 and other strings in his pocket as well. The 
 violin might not yield all the music expected, 
 but the fault would not be in the bow, or in Mr. 
 Saxby's supply of strings. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby, imposing and impressive as dress- 
 making art and a deep pervading sense of her 
 own importance could secure, received her guests
 
 NEW YORK AND HARD TIMES 93 
 
 with unrelaxing dignity, a sure proof of recent 
 accession to social honor. When a woman has 
 to put corsets on her manners, or watch her 
 words lest one tumble out the wrong way, her 
 pedigree is so short that one step back leads to 
 a whole bunch of ancestors with whom acquaint- 
 ance is by no means desirable. 
 
 What Mrs. Saxby lacked in repose and gentle- 
 ness of manner, Miriam supplied, for in her sim- 
 ple white gown of Colonial fashion, a style from 
 which she rarely departed, a string of pearls as 
 flawless as the neck which they encircled, her 
 dark hair bringing out in exquisite contrast her 
 pale and wonderfully expressive face, she looked, 
 when compared with her mother, like an Easter 
 lily beside a hollyhock. And Miriam was even 
 paler than usual. In the early evening, under 
 the first flush of excitement, she had enough 
 color to tinge her cheek slightly, but later this 
 died away. Then there was a hunted, frightened 
 look in her eyes ; not that they lacked brightness, 
 for they shone as stars, but there was something 
 in them which suggested apprehension, if not 
 positive fear. 
 
 Clarence Fillmore managed to get a few min- 
 utes' chat with her, the first since their conver- 
 sation on the train to Stamford. 
 
 " I had a long letter the other day from Bert 
 Vernon. It was the Vernons I went to see off 
 that day."
 
 94 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Miriam smiled, but sadly. She well remem- 
 bered the day Clarence referred to. 
 
 " Bert has a whole raft of good things to say 
 about Mr. Bedford. He was the hero of the 
 wreck; knocked people down who were not be- 
 having well; helped some people who were in 
 all kinds of trouble, and showed himself to be 
 a first-rate fellow." 
 
 Miriam's eyes glowed as Clarence, in his frank, 
 boyish way, spoke of Paul. 
 
 " Bert and Kitty Kitty is his sister, you 
 know, and a mighty nice girl came across the 
 Milltrums the other day in Nice. The Milltrums 
 were on the Zidonia with the Vernons. Miss 
 Milltrum told Bert that Mr. Bedford did not 
 go to Hongkong after all." 
 
 " Where, then, did he go ? " Miriam asked, in 
 amazement. 
 
 " The Milltrums said that he expected to sail 
 for New York about the last of December." 
 
 " But why haven't I heard from him ? Paul 
 in New York all this time, and not a line from 
 him!" 
 
 Clarence had no reply ready, but strongly 
 suspected that Mr. Saxby could easily have 
 supplied the necessary information. 
 
 " I have written him every few days at the 
 London office," she went on, " and yet have 
 received only one letter from him since he went 
 away."
 
 NEW YORK AND HARD TIMES 95 
 
 This time Clarence thought Mrs. Saxby, if 
 she so desired, could explain matters. 
 
 Then he said: 
 
 " The Milltrums gave Bert the impression 
 that Mr. Bedford might go to Chicago." 
 
 "On business?" 
 
 " Yes, but not connected with Mr. Saxby." 
 
 " Then Paul wrote to papa, who, I suppose, 
 was angry, and probably dismissed him." 
 
 "Very likely." 
 
 Later in the evening, when very much ex- 
 hausted, and hoping to gain a few moments' 
 rest, Miriam went to the library, where, to her 
 disappointment, she saw a middle-aged man, a 
 reporter, evidently, copying off the guest-list, 
 and writing an account of the gathering for 
 a morning paper. The reporter had iron-gray 
 hair, a heavy beard, which covered most of his 
 face, and, though the light was comparatively 
 dim, he wore blue glasses, as if to protect his 
 eyes. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," Miriam said, quietly, 
 " I did not know any one was here." 
 
 For reply, the reporter raised his hand with 
 a warning gesture, which startled Miriam, then 
 he glanced quickly around the room to see if 
 they were alone, and in another moment had 
 arisen from the table at which he was writ- 
 ing. 
 
 " Miriam ! " he whispered.
 
 96 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Paul ! " she answered, between a whisper 
 and sob. 
 
 " I had to come," he said, hurriedly. " I 
 wanted to see you, to speak with you if possi- 
 ble. It is nearly three months since I heard from 
 you, and I couldn't stand it any longer." 
 
 " I have written you a dozen times," she said, 
 excitedly, though speaking in a whisper. 
 
 " And I have written you twice a dozen times," 
 'he replied, in a low tone. 
 
 " My poor Paul ! " she murmured, tenderly. 
 " But I must be going now. Contrive in some 
 way to leave your address with Clarence Fill- 
 more. I will then be able to write you. Good 
 night, Paul! and remember, whatever happens, 
 I am your Miriam." 
 
 The last words were spoken with such softness 
 that Paul barely heard them, then she disap- 
 peared. 
 
 The next day The Gotham Gazette gave a 
 generous report of the Saxby reception. Mr. 
 Saxby, while affecting, like some other promi- 
 nent financiers, a contempt for newspaper fame, 
 secretly loved to see his name in print, particu- 
 larly when it was associated with the social 
 world. 
 
 " That reporter of The Gotham Gazette evi- 
 dently knew his business," he said the following 
 evening to Mrs. Saxby and Miriam, after read- 
 ing the lengthy notice. " I thought at first he
 
 NEW YORK AND HARD TIMES 97 
 
 was an awkward, blundering fellow, for he 
 stooped, and shuffled, and hardly seemed to know 
 what he was doing." 
 
 Miriam was reading the Gazette just then, 
 holding it well up to her face, otherwise Mr. 
 Saxby might have seen a strange gleam in her 
 eyes, and the ghost of a smile on her lips. 
 
 " I will send that reporter my compliments 
 and the price of a couple of boxes of cigars," 
 he continued. 
 
 Mr. Saxby had a distinct impression that 
 everything in this world was a matter of cash 
 settlement, and that a check wiped out all possi- 
 ble obligations. Perhaps if he had seen Miriam's 
 face at that moment its expression might have 
 startled him. 
 
 But there are some things which one is better 
 for not seeing, just as there are other things 
 which one is better for not hearing.
 
 X. 
 
 MR. MlLLTRUM OF CHICAGO 
 
 M, 
 
 .R. SAXBY'S check, accompanied by a brief 
 note, was sent to The Gotham Gazette, and in 
 due time reached Paul Bedford. 
 
 " I said it would pay you to go out to Pelham," 
 the news editor remarked, pleasantly. " Saxby 
 isn't a bad sort, though people have lots to say 
 about him. He must think you smoke a pretty 
 good cigar. Most of us have to be content with 
 a bulldog and plug." 
 
 " What am I expected to do with this? " Paul 
 asked, as he held the check in his fingers, much 
 as one would a dirty rag. 
 
 " Cash it, of course. Buy a wagon-load of 
 cigars. Have them piled up here on these 
 shelves. Invite us to help ourselves, and don't 
 be surprised if, in three days or less, nothing 
 remains but the empty boxes." 
 
 As the news editor spoke, he took his briar 
 bulldog from its pigeonhole, and looked at it 
 suggestively. 
 
 " But, Mr. Stewart, I can't use this check. 
 
 98
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 99 
 
 Mr. Saxby had no right to send it here. It looks 
 like a ' tip ' to the waiter, or a nickel to the office- 
 boy." 
 
 Paul's face had an indignant flush as he laid 
 the check down on his desk. 
 
 "What will you do with it?" 
 
 " Send it back." 
 
 "You can't do that." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " It would raise all kinds of ructions." 
 
 "In what way?" 
 
 " Saxby would be as mad as blazes. He owns 
 stock in this paper. Outsiders don't know that; 
 but when he wants anything done, we generally 
 hear from him." 
 
 " Mr. Saxby owns stock in this paper ? " 
 
 That Paul should be virtually in Mr. Saxby's 
 employment again was a bitter surprise to him. 
 
 " Of course he does. Why not ? These big 
 fellows on the stock exchange run newspapers 
 as they do steam yachts, or fast horses." 
 
 " Then you can count me out. I am through. 
 My relations with Mr. Saxby are such that I 
 cannot remain here. I am very much obliged 
 to you, Mr. Stewart, but my desk is at your 
 service." 
 
 Mr. Stewart saw by the look on Paul's face 
 that remonstrance would be useless, so he wished 
 him good fortune, went with him to the door, 
 then, going back to his desk, on which there
 
 100 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 was barely writing room, he lighted his bulldog 
 pipe, and smoked steadily for a minute or two. 
 But an imperative call for " copy " demanded 
 immediate attention, so he dismissed the Bed- 
 ford episode from his mind. 
 
 When Paul Bedford went to his lodgings that 
 evening, he found a telegram which had been 
 delivered some hours before. As such things 
 were more of a novelty than in former days, 
 he opened it with some degree of nervousness. 
 
 " Am expecting- you at Astor House this even- 
 ing. Don't fail. 
 
 "LEWIS MlLLTRUM." 
 
 He looked at the telegram again and again, 
 wondering what it meant. Then he re-read the 
 address on the envelope to be certain it was in- 
 tended for him. He was positive the Misses 
 Milltrum had not returned from Europe, a letter 
 from Bert Vernon received only the week before 
 assuring him of that fact. 
 
 The more he thought the matter over, the 
 deeper became his perplexity, for it never once 
 occurred to him that the sender of the telegram 
 might be related to the Milltrums of Chicago. 
 
 He concluded, however, that the easiest way 
 to solve the difficulty was to go to the Astor 
 House, so he took a Broadway car, and ere long 
 was in the well-known hotel.
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 101 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Milltrum is here," the clerk replied. 
 Then touching a gong on his desk, which was 
 speedily answered by a hall boy, he said, " Take 
 this gentleman to 73." 
 
 In response to the hall boy's knock, Paul heard 
 a clear, sonorous " Come in ! " and from the 
 voice was prepared to meet a bluff, hearty West- 
 erner, nor was he disappointed. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Mr. Bedford. Very glad. 
 Been looking for you all the evening. Hope you 
 are well. Sit down, here's a chair. Take a cigar. 
 I want to have a talk with you. Was just be- 
 ginning to think my telegram had gone astray. 
 Have had three or four letters from my niece, 
 inquiring about you. Left Chicago yesterday 
 morning, came on specially to see you." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum bustled about the room, talking 
 all the while, but contriving to give Paul a keen 
 glance now and then, taking his measurement 
 far more accurately than one would have im- 
 agined possible. 
 
 " What are you doing now ? " he asked, after 
 they had talked a few minutes. 
 
 " Nothing," Paul answered. 
 
 "Nothing! How is that?" This time he 
 shot a piercing look from under his heavy eye- 
 brows. 
 
 " It is rather a long story," Paul replied. 
 
 " Too much Saxby, perhaps ? " Mr. Milltrum 
 said, with a meaning smile.
 
 102 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paul looked keenly at Mr. Milltrum, but he 
 might as well have looked at a graven image, 
 so expressionless was his face. 
 
 " I am no longer connected with Mr. Saxby," 
 Paul said, with a degree of iron in his voice. 
 
 " But you have been, which may account for 
 many things," and again Mr. Milltrum's face 
 had all the mobility of a stone carving. 
 
 " I am at a loss to understand . . . ' 
 
 " Perhaps you are, but I'm not," Mr. Milltrum 
 said, in his quick, nervous fashion. " But I didn't 
 come all the way from Chicago to discuss Saxby. 
 I have better business on hand. I want you to 
 come in with us. We have just the place for 
 you. Of course, we're not so all-fired smart as 
 the people of this town, still everybody in Chi- 
 cago isn't a fool. This place is all very well for 
 men who have made their pile, any idiot can make 
 money when he has money, but when a young 
 fellow has only his wits, and out of them must 
 get a living, the sooner he leaves New York the 
 better. New York is a first-rate place in which 
 to go bankrupt; it's a kind of fashion here, and 
 no one seems to mind it, but if you want to get 
 a start, come to Chicago with me. My nieces 
 are set on it, and, for that matter, so am I. What's 
 to hinder you taking a trial trip, at any rate? 
 Meet me here to-morrow at noon; we can lunch 
 together, and then get the Limited, which leaves 
 at two. So good night. Glad to have met you,
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 103 
 
 and more glad you are coming with me to Chi- 
 cago." 
 
 In his hearty, cordial way, Mr. Milltrum ar- 
 ranged everything, hardly giving Paul time to 
 suggest a difficulty or frame a refusal, so that 
 in less than an hour from his entering the Astor 
 House, he was under engagement with the Mill- 
 trum Bros, of Chicago. 
 
 Next morning a district messenger was at 
 the house of Mrs. Figgis, with a note for Paul. 
 It was from Mr. Milltrum: 
 
 " DEAR MR. BEDFORD : Your spare money 
 is, no doubt, in the Savings Bank." Here Paul 
 smiled grimly. " Let it stay there, and use the 
 enclosed for such fittings as may be necessary. 
 There are, though, two or three little stores in 
 Chicago where odd fixings can be bought in case 
 you happen to forget anything. 
 
 " Yours hastily, 
 
 " LEWIS MILLTRUM." 
 
 Paul hardly knew whether to be angry or 
 pleased. The five twenty-dollar bills which Mr. 
 Milltrum had enclosed were badly needed, more, 
 indeed, than he was willing to admit, but the 
 Virginian blood had not cooled any during the 
 past months; if anything, it had grown hotter, 
 for pride and poverty are twins, who love each 
 other most strangely. But Virginian blood,
 
 104 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 along with its other good qualities, has a fair 
 measure of sturdy common sense, so Paul ac- 
 cepted the money in the spirit Mr. Milltrum had 
 sent it. Hence he was able to repossess himself 
 of his mother's trinkets, his father's watch, and 
 also make sundry purchases for his own per- 
 sonal comfort. 
 
 " Bless my soul, man, don't mention it ! " Mr. 
 Milltrum said, when Paul attempted to refer to 
 the matter. " Why should you disturb your 
 money in the Savings Bank? It couldn't be in 
 a better place. Ikeep some money there myself. 
 Have ever since I was a boy. Besides, you may 
 not care to stay in Chicago. This is only a trial 
 trip." 
 
 His keen eyes had not failed to notice a modest 
 gold chain with a neat charm, and an old-fash- 
 ioned, massive gold watch, which he had not seen 
 the night before, neither did he overlook certain 
 articles of apparel that were unquestionably new. 
 
 Mr. Milltrum, according to Paul's estimate, 
 was not far from sixty, but so hale and vigorous 
 that the years only added to his strength as 
 growth to a tree. He talked earnestly, ate heart- 
 ily, smoked vigorously nearly all the way to 
 Chicago; nor was his sleep that still, exquisite 
 silence which makes the night one of delicious 
 repose. None of the passengers, however, 
 cherished any malice, for in the morning, though 
 he was up early and his talk with the porter
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 105 
 
 was a housetop affair, rousing some dullards, 
 who would fain have slept longer, his voice had 
 so much of good cheer in it, and he diffused such 
 a healthful, wholesome feeling through the car, 
 that he was more than forgiven for his exertions 
 during the night. 
 
 On reaching Chicago, Mr. Milltrum went to 
 the " Auditorium," a hotel which surprised Paul, 
 who thought that such buildings were only pos- 
 sible in New York. 
 
 " Yes, I live here," he said to Paul, as they 
 were chatting in his apartment, one of the most 
 desirable in the hotel, fronting on the avenue, 
 and with a splendid view of the lake. " I'm a 
 bachelor, you know, and I can have my boots 
 blacked here, and get a morning paper without 
 much trouble. As I said, Chicago, of course, 
 isn't New York, but when one makes up his 
 mind to it, he can put up with most anything." 
 
 The whimsical air with which Mr. Milltrum 
 said this immensely amused Paul. He was be- 
 ginning to enjoy Mr. Milltrum, whose sly pokes 
 at New York and its pretensions were so good- 
 natured that no one could be offended at them. 
 
 The next day Paul was taken to the offices of 
 Milltrum Bros., where he received marked con- 
 sideration. 
 
 " Pooh ! No gratitude about it. We are not 
 in the philanthropy business. Peggy, that's my 
 niece, the one that's older than the younger one,
 
 106 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 I daren't put it any other way, or they would 
 each give me a hiding, wrote me about you. 
 Maud, that's the other one, she also wrote me 
 about you. And so here you are. You think 
 five thousand dollars a year is too much to start 
 on? Well, I don't. And don't fret, for you'll 
 earn every cent of it. We work hard here, young 
 man. See if we don't." 
 
 Paul little thought, when helping the Misses 
 Milltrum into one of the Zidonia's boats, giving 
 them his ulster, and contriving as best he could 
 to make them comfortable, that he was casting 
 bread upon the waters, which would return in 
 such form as this. But like a sensible fellow, 
 he took the goods the gods so generously pro- 
 vided, and soon was comfortably installed as 
 private secretary to Mr. Milltrum. 
 
 Through the good offices of Clarence Fillmore, 
 Paul and Miriam frequently heard from each 
 other, and though separated by several hundred 
 miles, in heart they were nearer than ever be- 
 fore. 
 
 " I congratulate you, Paul, on being so pleas- 
 antly situated, and with such a good beginning 
 in your new business. I cannot tell you how 
 glad I am. Perhaps there is a little selfishness 
 in my gladness, for I imagine that one of these 
 days you will be sending for * somebody ' who 
 would like to make a nice long visit in Chicago !
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 107 
 
 Indeed, I think the aforesaid ' somebody ' would 
 not object to living in Chicago! I was there 
 during the Exposition, and stopped at the ' Audi- 
 torium,' so I can easily locate you. Every even- 
 ing after dinner, instead of going to the piano 
 and playing over some of your favorites, I take 
 a trip westward, usually stopping off at Chicago, 
 and visiting with you! I leave my insignificant 
 body here to do the proprieties, winding up its 
 talking-machine so that it can answer the usual 
 round of questions ; and sometimes I so arrange 
 my hands that they hold a book, then droop my 
 eyes as to seem intent on the page, but the real 
 me, the me who loves you, does not remain in 
 Pelham, oh, no! Have you not felt me steal 
 into that little parlor of yours, sit down quietly 
 somewhere near you, and just delight myself by 
 looking at your dear face? In the daytime you 
 are busy, so I don't trouble you more than I can 
 help, but in the evening, when I know you are 
 free from business, I get into my air-ship, and 
 in two seconds, one if I am not delayed, I am 
 with you. But what a lot of nonsense I am 
 writing! Yet is it nonsense? If the spirit can 
 leave the body during sleep, why not at other 
 times? If an overwhelming emotion can so 
 dominate the body as to make it insensible to 
 fatigue or pain, why cannot love, to whom all 
 other emotions are but as slaves to the genii of 
 Aladdin's lamp, break through the body when
 
 108 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 it pleases and hold communion with a love that 
 is kindred to its own? 
 
 " Dear, dear, when will this pen of mine learn 
 sense! I can see you smile, Paul, yes, I can; 
 don't deny it, or, when ' somebody ' comes to Chi- 
 cago, sackcloth and ashes will be your portion. 
 Not broadcloth and cigar ashes either, but the 
 real thing. 
 
 " Doctor Barrington thinks I am not looking 
 well! As my gallant knight, I expect you to 
 avenge this terrible affront. He wants mamma 
 to take me to the Adirondacks in May, but 
 mamma thinks a trip to Europe will do just as 
 well. I would rather go to Chicago! 
 
 " Papa has been South for some weeks. That 
 may explain his failure to reply to your letter. 
 It is now almost noon. Good-by. Will see you 
 this evening! MIRIAM." 
 
 When Mr. Saxby returned from the South, 
 after an extended business trip, he found Paul's 
 letter awaiting him at Pelham. Having no idea 
 of the young man's whereabouts, though the 
 handwriting seemed familiar, he opened it with- 
 out once suspecting who the writer might be. 
 
 " I am now in a position to renew the request 
 made some months since, and hope most sin- 
 cerely that you will give me the privilege of a 
 hearing. It has been my good fortune to become 
 associated with Milltrum Bros, of this city."
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 109 
 
 Mr. Saxby did not finish the letter, contenting 
 himself with an angry glance at the signature. 
 
 " Damn that fellow," he muttered, " and with 
 the Milltrums! I wish now he had gone to 
 Hongkong. But I will crush him yet, and the 
 Milltrums with him, no matter what it costs." 
 
 Mr. Saxby's face was not a pleasant study at 
 that moment. Every foul passion of which a 
 proud, vindictive nature was capable showed 
 itself in the fierce gleam of his eye, the cruel set 
 of his mouth, the merciless expression of his 
 features, and clinching his fist, he struck the 
 library table such a heavy blow that the bronze 
 inkstand, a Christmas gift from Miriam, rattled 
 under the shock. 
 
 " Damn him ! Damn him ! " he almost shouted 
 again and again, " and damn the Milltrums ! I 
 had a heavy enough score to settle with them 
 before this, but by Heaven ! I'll " 
 
 At dinner Mr. Saxby was very quiet, but it 
 was not the quiet of fatigue or restfulness, the 
 intensity of it forbade any such supposition. 
 
 " Did you know anything of this ? " he asked 
 Miriam, when they had gone to the library for 
 their coffee, and the servants had retired. As 
 he spoke he held out Paul Bedford's letter. 
 
 " What is it? " Miriam asked in return, though 
 she saw the handwriting now so familiar to her. 
 
 " This letter from that Bedford fellow." 
 
 " You refer to Mr. Bedford, who spent part
 
 110 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 of last winter here ? " Miriam asked, in clear, 
 bell-li'ke tones, her eyes shining, and her face 
 as though of white marble. 
 
 " Yes, Bedford, who did typewriting for me, 
 and odd jobs about the office." 
 
 " Who saved your life when you were attacked 
 by burglars, and served you like a slave all the 
 weeks that you were helpless?" 
 
 Mrs. Saxby looked aghast as Miriam spoke, 
 her voice even more vibrant than before. 
 
 " For which he was paid," Mr. Saxby coarsely 
 responded. " Well paid, too." 
 
 " Yes, by being dismissed from your service. 
 Turned out on a moment's notice. Then driven 
 from New York as though he were a criminal." 
 
 How each word rang out ! 
 
 " And finally secured employment in the office 
 of my sworn enemy, a man who has left no stone 
 unturned by which he might compass my down- 
 fall. To this man Mr. Bedford " the sneer 
 with which Mr. Saxby accompanied his " Mr. 
 Bedford " was a fine piece of work " has gone, 
 and because he knows, or thinks he knows, some- 
 thing of my business, he has prevailed upon 
 Milltrum of Chicago to give him a place in his 
 office. Now he thinks he can dictate terms to 
 me, and so he writes proposing marriage with 
 you. He is an infamous scoundrel, a treacherous 
 hound, and " 
 
 " The man whom I have promised to marry,"
 
 MR. MILLTRUM OF CHICAGO 111 
 
 Miriam said, solemnly, rising from her chair, 
 and standing proudly before her father. 
 
 " I would rather see you dead than the wife 
 of Paul Bedford," Mr. Saxby replied, his face 
 white with passion. 
 
 ' You may, perhaps, have your wish, for I 
 will never leave home without your consent. Of 
 that you may be fully assured. But remember, 
 nothing can ever weaken my love for Paul Bed- 
 ford. Now please excuse me, I would like to 
 retire to my own room." 
 
 Without waiting to hear her father's reply, 
 Miriam walked slowly across the library, gently 
 opened the door, and passed out, leaving Mr. 
 Saxby with Paul Bedford's letter in his hands.
 
 XL 
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 
 
 "NT 
 
 1 i O, I don't know what the trouble is. 
 Strange as it may seem, Mrs. Saxby, it appears 
 as if Miriam had received some terrible shock. 
 I know, of course, that such a thing is impos- 
 sible, yet the symptoms all point in that direc- 
 tion. Suppose I ask Doctor Voxborough to 
 meet me here to-morrow. I can arrange it so 
 that Miriam won't suspect anything. For my 
 own sake as well as yours I would like to consult 
 with Doctor Voxborough." 
 
 Doctor Barrington's face was clouded with 
 anxiety as he spoke to Mrs. Saxby, who had been 
 waiting for him in the reception-room. For some 
 days Doctor Barrington had been in attendance 
 on Miriam, and each visit only added to his 
 perplexity. 
 
 " You don't mean that Miriam's case is really 
 serious ? " Mrs. Saxby asked, earnestly. 
 
 " I cannot say at this moment exactly how 
 serious it is, but I would like to call in Doctor 
 Voxborough." There was a gravity in Doctor 
 112
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 113 
 
 Barrington's manner, which could not escape 
 Mrs. Saxby. 
 
 " Wouldn't a change of air, a trip to Old Point 
 Comfort, or perhaps to the South of France make 
 her all right again ? " 
 
 " I don't know whether she could now bear 
 such a journey. Miriam has been running down 
 for some time. You may remember my sug- 
 gesting several weeks ago that you arrange for 
 a visit to the Adirondacks at the first opportu- 
 nity, which, perhaps, would have been the best 
 thing to be done at that time. But let us have 
 Doctor Voxborough's opinion." 
 
 " Of course, if that is your wish, but we have 
 every confidence in you." 
 
 " Thank you, Mrs. Saxby, but in a case so 
 serious as this, I would feel relieved if Doctor 
 Voxborough could give me the benefit of his 
 advice." 
 
 The next day Doctor Voxborough, an eminent 
 specialist from New York, went with Doctor 
 Barrington to Miriam's room, but the visit was 
 so managed that Miriam never once suspected 
 its real intent. 
 
 " I wish you could persuade him, Doctor Vox- 
 borough, to give me a cure for laziness," Miriam 
 said, pleasantly, then smiling at Doctor Barring- 
 ton, who was counting her pulse. 
 
 " You should say rather ' Physician, heal thy- 
 self,' for that is his own trouble, and one of many
 
 114 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 years standing," Doctor Voxborough replied, 
 coming over to the couch on which Miriam 
 was lying. 
 
 " I am not as lazy as Doctor Voxborough 
 thinks I am," Doctor Barrington suggestively 
 remarked, making his pause very effective. 
 
 So they chatted and talked, exchanging sallies 
 of wit and playful humor, making their visit 
 one of real pleasure to Miriam, who brightened 
 up, and seemed more like herself than for some 
 weeks. But the keen, practised eyes of Doctor 
 Voxborough were busy all the while. On one 
 pretence and another he got Miriam to talk about 
 herself, humorously mostly, and making light 
 of her sickness, but Doctor Voxborough never 
 once lost sight of the purpose he had in view. 
 
 " I think you might allow an old gentleman 
 the pleasure of holding your hand for a minute," 
 he said, smilingly, taking the place vacated by 
 Doctor Barrington, who had gone to a table 
 ostensibly to write a prescription. 
 
 Miriam little thought how much the tips of 
 his fingers could read as they were placed gently 
 on her wrist. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby was again in the reception-room, 
 but Doctor Voxborough had very little to say, 
 allowing Doctor Barrington, as the family phy- 
 sician, to do most of the talking. But Doctor 
 Voxborough rarely had much to say. Like most 
 great physicians, he was not a fluent talker, but
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 115 
 
 what he lacked in speech he atoned for in mar- 
 vellous skill. At lunch with Doctor Harrington 
 he spoke with some freedom. 
 
 " A girl whose nervous conditions are so 
 exquisitely balanced as those of Miss Saxby 
 requires treatment which can neither be written 
 nor defined. You are, of course, intimate in 
 the Saxby home ? " 
 
 " Very, have been for years. I attended Mrs. 
 Saxby when Miriam was born." 
 
 As Doctor Barrington spoke he looked in- 
 quiringly at Doctor Voxborough. 
 
 " Have you reason to think that there is trou- 
 ble of any kind ? " 
 
 " Never heard of any, that is, anything seri- 
 ous." 
 
 " What have you heard ? Miss Saxby, even 
 at best, is naturally most sensitive, and would 
 keenly feel things which others would toss 
 aside." 
 
 " Some months ago there was an attempted 
 burglary " 
 
 " Shock number one," Doctor Voxborough 
 remarked, quietly. 
 
 " And in the struggle Mr. Saxby received a 
 severe wound." 
 
 " Shock number two." 
 
 " During the months that Mr. Saxby was con- 
 fined to his room, a young man from the office, 
 a mighty handsome fellow, Bedford by name,
 
 116 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 acted as Mr. Saxby's secretary, coming to the 
 house every evening, and naturally saw a great 
 deal of Miss Saxby. There was some little gossip 
 of course." 
 
 " Shock number three." 
 
 " When Mr. Saxby got better, whether he 
 suspected anything or not I cannot say, but Bed- 
 ford received an appointment at Hongkong." 
 
 " Shock number four." 
 
 " Since then it has been whispered that Bed- 
 ford did not go to Hongkong, Mr. Saxby having 
 dismissed him in London." 
 
 " Shock number five." 
 
 "You infer then " 
 
 " That Miss Saxby is in a bad way, and if you 
 can save her it will be little short of a miracle. 
 Your treatment, thus far, has my unqualified 
 approval, but I am afraid you have a very serious 
 case on your hands." 
 
 Doctor Barrington went to the station with 
 Doctor Voxborough, who promised to come out 
 again the following week. 
 
 " From what Doctor Barrington said this 
 morning I am beginning to be anxious about 
 Miriam," Mrs. Saxby said to her husband when 
 he returned from New York. 
 
 " Was he speaking for himself or for Doctor 
 Voxborough ? " Mr. Saxby asked, sharply. 
 
 " Both, I am afraid," Mrs. Saxby replied, with 
 some feeling.
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 117 
 
 " Did they give you any intimation of what 
 really ailed Miriam ? " 
 
 Mr. Saxby, though loving Miriam with a 
 passion little short of idolatry, was so enraged 
 at her course with regard to Paul Bedford, that 
 since the scene in the library, when she so fear- 
 lessly avowed her love for Paul, he treated her 
 with marked disfavor. And so blinded was he 
 by anger and prejudice that he refused to believe 
 her illness anything but chagrin and disappoint- 
 ment, the result of his refusal to give a favorable 
 reply to Paul Bedford's letter. 
 
 She was indignant, naturally so, at his treat- 
 ment of Paul. He could at least have replied 
 courteously, but this he failed to do, for he took 
 Paul's letter and wrote at the foot of the page: 
 
 " This was opened by mistake, thinking it was 
 from a correspondent in Chicago. I do not wish 
 to hear from you again." 
 
 So Paul got his letter back, envelope and all, 
 whereupon he vowed that the next time he wrote 
 to Mr. Saxby, Methuselah in point of age would 
 be a mere infant as compared with him. But 
 Paul didn't say anything of this to Miriam. It 
 was Mr. Saxby himself who informed her of it. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Saxby would not have acted so 
 outrageously were it not that Mr. Milltrum had 
 out-manoeuvred him in a scheme to obtain pos- 
 session of a Southern railroad upon which his 
 eyes had rested covetously for some time. For
 
 118 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 this Mr. Saxby blamed Paul, as the negotiations 
 were in progress while he was acting as his secre- 
 tary. Paul, however, had nothing whatever to 
 do with it, for there were some matters which 
 Mr. Milltrum shared with no one, working them 
 out in his own way. But this Mr. Saxby did not 
 know; hence he charged Paul with treachery, 
 and regarded him as the direct agent of Mr. 
 Milltrum in securing this most desirable prop- 
 erty. 
 
 It is true that as the weeks went on, and Paul 
 saw with what persistence Mr. Milltrum thwarted 
 Mr. Saxby in every possible way, he was tempted 
 more than once to give up his position. It seemed 
 like disloyalty to Miriam to be in the service of 
 one who so relentlessly pursued her father. And 
 many times he wished, when he knew of some 
 big deal which was in progress, that he could 
 have warned Mr. Saxby. Every fibre of Paul's 
 manhood was tested to its full strength again and 
 again. Fidelity to Mr. Milltrum seemed infi- 
 delity to Miriam. Then, on the other hand, he 
 was under profound obligations to Mr. Milltrum, 
 who had treated him with such generosity. Not 
 once, and for this Paul was profoundly grateful, 
 had Mr. Milltrum questioned him concerning Mr. 
 Saxby, or his relations with Miriam. Paul some- 
 times wondered at this; but Mr. Milltrum, 
 through his nieces, knew all about Paul's love- 
 affairs, and though an old bachelor, he had not
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 119 
 
 quite forgotten a romance of his own early man- 
 hood. 
 
 This may have been the reason why he never 
 sought Paul's assistance in his battles with Mr. 
 Saxby, though there were times when such as- 
 sistance, had Paul been free to give it, would 
 have been of much value to him. 
 
 It is very easy to see that one defeat after 
 another, and some of them costly, made Mr. 
 Saxby still more bitter against Paul, for he in- 
 variably associated him with every move of Mr. 
 Milltrum. And it is also easy to see why he was 
 angry and indignant with Miriam, treating her 
 with a sternness that was little short of cruelty. 
 
 But Mrs. Saxby's statement, based on the 
 report of Doctor Barrington, alarmed him. He 
 knew that Doctor Barrington would not have 
 called in such an eminent physician as Doctor 
 Voxborough without some reason for it. He 
 had been troubled more or less during the day, 
 and came home earlier than usual that he might 
 learn the result of the consultation. 
 
 As Miriam was not able to come down to 
 dinner, he went to her room early in the even- 
 ing, something he had not done since receiving 
 Paul Bedford's letter. She smiled gratefully as 
 he went in, and though there was not a sign 
 of reproach on her face, somehow he felt ashamed 
 of his harshness, and resolved to atone for it if 
 it were possible.
 
 120 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Well, my little girl, how do you think you 
 are? " he asked, tenderly, after he had bent over 
 the couch, and kissed her. 
 
 " I told Doctor Barrington I was merely lazy," 
 she answered, looking up into his face as he sat 
 beside the couch, meantime holding his hand in 
 hers. 
 
 " Which he believed, of course, for he knows 
 you pretty well." 
 
 Mr. Saxby noticed a marked change in Miriam ; 
 her face was thinner, her cheeks had a feverish 
 flush, her eyes seemed to have an unnatural light, 
 her voice, while smooth and distinct, was weak, 
 and her breath caught at times as though she 
 were in pain. 
 
 " I asked him to prescribe for it," she said, 
 flashing at her father one of her old-time roguish 
 glances, " but Doctor Voxborough suggested 
 that Doctor Barrington was afflicted with the 
 same trouble." 
 
 " So you didn't get the prescription ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I wonder if I could do anything for you?" 
 
 " You can. I wish you would take me in your 
 arms, and let me rest a little while. I am tired 
 lying here." 
 
 Mr. Saxby took her up from the couch, and 
 going over to a big armchair sat down, holding 
 her in his arms, as he had often done when she 
 was a little girl.
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 121 
 
 " It is so nice to be back here again," she mur- 
 mured, softly, nestling her head upon his breast, 
 then giving a happy little sigh. 
 
 For reply, Mr. Saxby drew her closely to him, 
 then bent down and kissed her forehead. 
 
 " You have been a very good papa to me," 
 she whispered, " and I am so sorry at having 
 vexed or distressed you." Her breath caught 
 as she finished the sentence ending in a little 
 sob. 
 
 " Please don't speak of these things now," he 
 said, huskily. 
 
 " But, papa, I must speak of them, and now 
 that we are alone let me tell you that I love you 
 as dearly as I ever did; and you will please for- 
 give me for having hurt you." 
 
 " Miriam, darling, there is nothing to forgive. 
 You are only distressing yourself." 
 
 " Yes, papa, there is something to forgive. 
 You remember how I spoke about Paul. That 
 was very wrong of me, but I was nervous and 
 angry, and I have been so sorry ever since. I 
 cried all that night. But, papa, I can't help lov- 
 ing Paul. Don't take your arms away, please. 
 And he is not to blame. I know you think he 
 is, but indeed he is not. So I want you to for- 
 give him." 
 
 " But, Miriam, only think of what you are 
 asking ! " 
 
 " Yes, papa, I know. But you are a great,
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 strong, rich man, and he is a poor boy, who has 
 to make his way in the world. I told you I would 
 never leave you without your consent, so I wish 
 you would forgive Paul. I am not well, papa. 
 Sometimes I think that I won't get better." 
 
 "Hush, Miriam, hush!" 
 
 " Since I have been lying here, and so much 
 alone every day, I have had time to think over 
 lots of things. Please remember, papa, that I 
 am not ungrateful. You have been very kind 
 to me. But I don't want a single cloud to rest 
 on either your heart or mine. And if anything 
 happens to me, papa, I want you to be good to 
 Paul. Won't you, please ? " 
 
 Something in Miriam's voice filled Mr. Saxby 
 with dread. In simplicity and artlessness she 
 had gone back to her early girlhood, and she 
 used phrases and expressions which he remem- 
 bered her using years before ; but she spoke with 
 a solemnity as of a distant bell tolling at mid- 
 night. Her voice had a far-away sound. She 
 seemed as if leaving him. There were no tears 
 in her eyes, but there was something far deeper 
 than tears in her words. 
 
 Before he could reply, Mrs. Saxby, who had 
 been summoned to meet some callers, special 
 friends of Miriam, who had just heard of her 
 sickness, returned to the room, so nothing more 
 was said. 
 
 " Come again to-morrow evening, you dear
 
 MR. SAXBY BECOMES ANXIOUS 123 
 
 old papa," Miriam said, fondly, as Mr. Saxby 
 placed her again on the couch. 
 
 It was late, very late that night when Mr. 
 Saxby retired. After leaving Miriam's room 
 he went to the library, remaining there for some 
 hours. Next morning his face looked drawn 
 and anxious, and on reaching the city, instead 
 of going direct to his office, he went to Doctor 
 Voxborough, where he stayed over an hour. 
 Business had little interest for Mr. Saxby that 
 day. Mr. Crewe could hardly get a word from 
 him. Very curtly he told Mr. Walters not to 
 disturb him with matters of correspondence. 
 He went out to lunch because he had an appoint- 
 ment of some importance, but after disposing 
 of the matter which the appointment involved, 
 he excused himself, and took an early afternoon 
 train for home.
 
 A, 
 
 XII. 
 A WEDDING 
 
 >FTER Doctor Voxborough had made his 
 second visit to Pelham, he frankly told Doctor 
 Barrington nothing could save Miriam. He 
 said she was wasting away, and not slowly 
 either, and only with extreme care could her 
 life be prolonged through the summer. 
 
 This was sad news for Doctor Barrington, 
 though he had feared from Doctor Voxborough's 
 opinion at their first consultation that he would 
 pronounce Miriam's case to be hopeless. But 
 how much more sad was it for Mrs. Saxby! 
 At first she would not believe it, and with a voice 
 almost angry in its tone, and eyes flashing in- 
 dignantly, she told him that such a thing could 
 not be. But when she saw Doctor Barrington's 
 lips tremble, and then his face turned away to hide 
 the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, her 
 anger died away, and she sobbed as though her 
 heart would break. She forgot everything save 
 the one terrible fact that Miriam the babe who 
 had cuddled in her arms, the child whose prattle 
 
 124
 
 A WEDDING 125 
 
 had been such a delight, the girl whose merry 
 voice had filled the home with gladness, the 
 daughter who had grown up into glorious woman- 
 hood was about to leave her, and that soon 
 nothing would remain but a tender memory. 
 
 " Oh, Doctor Barrington, what shall I do ? I 
 can't let her go. She must stay here with me. 
 Oh, dear God, won't you spare my Miriam! 
 Please, doctor, can't you think of something 
 that would help her. Oh, Miriam ! Miriam ! " 
 
 Doctor Barrington tried to comfort her, but 
 his voice quivered and broke, and it was with 
 a sad face that he entered his carriage and drove 
 away. When he got to the gate, he looked up 
 to the window at which Miriam usually sat in 
 her room, and he saw her wave her hand to him, 
 a poor, wasted hand it was, and though 
 he smiled in reply, yet it was such a tender, piti- 
 ful smile that Miriam wondered at it. 
 
 Mr. Saxby received the verdict of Doctor 
 Voxborough in mute, helpless despair. He was 
 too terribly stricken even to open his lips. He 
 asked no questions ; he made no appeal ; no tear 
 dimmed his eye, no quiver moved his lips. He 
 stood listening to Doctor Barrington as a man 
 carved in stone, but over that stone face there 
 passed a cloud, and behind that cloud the sun 
 went down, never to rise again. 
 
 After Doctor Barrington had gone, he sat 
 down in the same chair in which Miriam had
 
 126 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 sat the last night she was in the library. How 
 well he remembered that night! Would not the 
 memory of it forever leave its scar upon his 
 soul? That night he had taunted her, flung 
 the name of Paul Bedford in her face, gloried 
 in having sent back his letter with an insulting 
 message, called him a fortune-hunter, whose love 
 for her was a hollow sham, sneered at her tears, 
 and made sport of her whining, baby face. 
 Everything came back to him. Like pictures 
 thrown upon the canvas by the intense and merci- 
 less calcium light, so the past weeks and months 
 came before him. How cruel he had been ! How 
 remorseless, how vindictive! And now she was 
 dying; a few weeks more and his Miriam would 
 be gone forever. 
 
 He went to a drawer of the library table, the 
 one whose key always hung on his watch-chain, 
 and took out a revolver, and placed the cold 
 barrel against his forehead, but he merely smiled, 
 and put the revolver back into its case. 
 
 "No, not that," he muttered, "that is a 
 coward's refuge." 
 
 Then he went back again to the chair on which 
 he had been sitting, and stood for a few moments, 
 irresolute, as if debating with himself, but finally 
 he knelt at the chair, and, burying his face in 
 his hands, uttered a groan of fearful despair. 
 For more than an hour he knelt there, not pray- 
 ing, or even trying to pray, but simply kneeling
 
 A WEDDING 127 
 
 at the place where Miriam had last sat, a help- 
 less, stricken man. 
 
 " Papa, I would like to see Paul," Miriam 
 said one day, as Mr. Saxby was holding her 
 in his arms. 
 
 " Shall I send for him ? " he asked, gently. 
 
 " I wish you would," again nestling her head 
 on his breast, and snuggling closer to him. 
 
 In an hour Paul was reading: 
 
 " Come at once Miriam very sick. We all 
 wish to see you. GASTON SAXBY." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly. The very first train. 
 Don't hesitate a minute. Hope it isn't anything 
 serious. Stay as long as you want to. Make 
 a wedding-trip of it if you can," and Mr. Mill- 
 trum bustled about the office, hardly allowing 
 himself a moment's rest until he had seen Paul 
 in the train that evening. 
 
 There was no embarrassment whatever in the 
 meeting of Paul and Mr. Saxby. When men 
 are in the valley and shadow of death they are 
 not troubled with trifles. Things of greater 
 moment have control of them. 
 
 Mr. Saxby, therefore, simply held out his hand 
 and said : 
 
 ' Thank you for coming so promptly, Mr. 
 Bedford," to which Paul replied, " Thank you 
 for sending for me, Mr. Saxby."
 
 128 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Neither referred to the past then or at any 
 other time. There was too much at stake to 
 bother with explanations or apologies. They 
 were fighting for Miriam's life; anything less 
 had no value. 
 
 " It might do good ; it certainly could do no 
 harm. So far as I am concerned, I approve most 
 heartily." This was Doctor Voxborough's reply 
 to Doctor Harrington, who at Paul Bedford's 
 urgent request had spoken of the possibility of 
 Miriam's marriage. 
 
 As a drowning man clutches a straw, blindly 
 struggling for anything that may save him 
 from death, so they all eagerly reached for this 
 last hope, with a fervent desire that in some way 
 it might uncoil the fatal arms that were dragging 
 Miriam to the grave. The thought of refusal 
 never once occurred to Mr. Saxby. 
 
 It was a strange, sad wedding. Miriam had 
 been carried from her room to the parlor, reserv- 
 ing her strength for the ceremony, and her pale, 
 sweet face looked like that of an angel. She 
 insisted on being dressed in bridal costume, 
 smilingly remarking that the woman who didn't 
 try to look well at such a time was disloyal to 
 her sex. She arranged that Doctor Keithburn, 
 who had baptized her in infancy, and at whose 
 hands she had received her first communion, 
 should perform the marriage service. Both Mr. 
 and Mrs. Saxby wondered why Paul, who car-
 
 A WEDDING 129 
 
 ried out her suggestions for the ceremony, should 
 have placed Doctor Keithburn in the window 
 recess, but they did not know that Miriam and 
 Paul, as they received the nuptial blessing, knelt 
 on the very spot where they had first kissed each 
 other. 
 
 There were no guests save Doctor Barrington 
 and Clarence Fillmore, but at Miriam's request 
 the servants were brought in that they might 
 witness the ceremony. No one outside would 
 have imagined that the Saxby mansion was the 
 scene of a wedding, for there was no coming 
 and going of carriages; no stream of people 
 entering the stately hall; no babel of young 
 voices, filling the house everywhere; no crowd 
 waiting on the steps to assail the departing 
 couple with showers of rice; no gay revellers 
 to whom a marriage feast is an unmixed joy. 
 
 " I am yours now, Paul, yours, yours," she 
 whispered, with a happy smile, as he almost 
 carried her to the dining-room, where she had 
 pleaded for some recognition of her bridal day. 
 
 " Yes, mine, Miriam, mine, now and forever," 
 he said, solemnly, in a voice intended only for 
 her. 
 
 Clarence Fillmore, good fellow that he was, 
 tried to enliven the dining-table, and Doctor 
 Barrington contributed his part, so the hour 
 passed off with less restraint than had been 
 feared. Still, Miriam was much exhausted with
 
 130 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 excitement and weakness, and soon went to her 
 room. 
 
 For a few days she actually gave promise of 
 recovery, and told Paul she would soon be ready 
 for their wedding-trip. 
 
 " I want to go somewhere on the Mediter- 
 ranean; it doesn't make much difference where, 
 if I can only be within sight of the water. A nice 
 little villa with a garden where we can have 
 flowers and fruit, and where we won't be 
 bothered and troubled with a lot of people." 
 
 So Paul sent for the plans of ships sailing 
 to Genoa and Naples, and they talked about 
 their trip with as much pleasure as two children. 
 
 Even Doctor Barrington was hopeful for a 
 little while, and spoke of it to Doctor Vox- 
 borough. But he said nothing. As the summer 
 wore on, it became very evident that Miriam 
 was fast losing all she had gained, and the end 
 could not be far distant. 
 
 But her courage was unflagging, and her 
 hope as vigorous as ever. 
 
 " You must not be discouraged, Paul. I am 
 ashamed of you. Just see how my hands are 
 rilling out. That ring was too large when you 
 first put it on, and two or three times it nearly 
 came off. Now see." 
 
 But there came a day early in September 
 when she nestled for the last time in her father's 
 arms. She had wasted away so that Mr. Saxby
 
 A WEDDING 131 
 
 could hold her as he had done years before, and 
 her face had the sweet childlike look of her 
 early girlhood. 
 
 " I can't stay much longer with you, papa ; 
 I wish I could, for I never loved you so dearly 
 as I do now. But I am so tired. You won't 
 forget your promise about Paul. Poor Paul! 
 I am very sorry for him. Put me down on 
 the couch, papa, and tell mamma and Paul I 
 want to see them. How dark it is getting all 
 at once! Why, the sun was shining brightly 
 a few minutes ago." 
 
 They gathered about her couch, Mrs. Saxby 
 with the tears so blinding her that she could 
 hardly see; Mr. Saxby with his face gray as 
 ashes, and his lips trembling so that he dare 
 not trust himself to speak; Paul kneeling at 
 her side, holding her hands in his; Doctor 
 Keithburn tenderly saying the divine words, 
 ' Though I walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, I will fear no evil," and with 
 a sweet smile Miriam went home to be with 
 God.
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 JUDITH
 
 I. 
 
 JUDITH 
 
 .FATHER TIME, sly old rascal that he is! 
 rarely fails to deal kindly with maiden ladies 
 who do not advertise their birthdays, and whose 
 means permit the services of an artistic dress- 
 maker. Hence we find the Misses Milltrum, 
 after a lapse of five years, much the same as when 
 we saw them start from the Victoria Station in 
 London, on their way to the South of France. 
 Indeed, strict truth would insist that the years 
 had made ample compensation for the slight in- 
 crease in their age. Miss Milltrum is decidedly 
 less angular, of healthier look, and, while the old- 
 time haughty expression in part remains, her 
 smile has more warmth and pleasantness than in 
 former days. As for Maud, the years have 
 treated her graciously. Not that she is less 
 definite of speech, or fails to express her opinions 
 with both vigor and freedom, but her voice is 
 mellow, her face is kindly, and her words have 
 
 little of rankle in them. 
 135
 
 136 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 That neither of them married was a cause 
 of much wonder to their friends. It was not 
 surely for lack of opportunity. Admirers they 
 both had, and to spare, ranging all the way 
 from bright young cavaliers, whose highly 
 polished boots lacked yet their golden spurs, 
 to men of mature years, whose highly polished 
 brows extended midway over their heads. 
 
 "Where is Judith?" Miss Milltrum asked, 
 turning from the quaint, old-fashioned desk 
 where she had been writing, and addressing 
 Maud, who was critically examining a bit of 
 old lace. 
 
 " She went out with Mr. Bothwell over an 
 hour ago," Maud answered, smoothing the lace 
 gently on her knee. 
 
 " She goes out a good deal with Mr. Both- 
 well," Miss Milltrum said, as she sealed an 
 envelope, using mauve-colored wax and a Dres- 
 den-handled monogram. 
 
 " Yes, but Judith is abundantly able to take 
 care of herself. No need to trouble about her 
 affairs." As Maud spoke she lifted the piece 
 of lace, and held it out between her hands. 
 
 " But Mr. Bothwell is exceedingly attentive 
 to Judith," Miss Milltrum observed, after a 
 short pause. 
 
 " Very ; he seems to be in earnest." 
 
 Maud now folded up the bit of lace, and 
 looked inquiringly at her sister.
 
 JUDITH 137 
 
 " Which is more, you think, than can be said 
 of Judith?" 
 
 " No, I don't mean that. And yet I hardly 
 know what I do mean. Judith puzzles me. 
 She is a mystery, and has been ever since she 
 came to this house. At times, I am positive 
 she is fond of Mr. Bothwell. But I think she 
 is more ambitious than many would imagine. 
 If I don't misjudge her, Peggy, she would sac- 
 rifice almost everything to carry out her own 
 wishes." 
 
 "What is bred in the bone " 
 
 " Exactly. And she is not likely to prove an 
 exception." 
 
 " But from Mr. Bothwell's appearance and 
 pretensions he could probably give her a good 
 home. He must have a large income to keep 
 up his present style of living. Bert Vernon 
 says Mr. Bothwell's apartment at the Sem- 
 brada is one of the most expensive in the house, 
 and furnished without regard to cost." 
 
 "Very likely, and the 'turn-outs' with which 
 he comes for Judith are good enough for any 
 one, nevertheless " 
 
 Without finishing her sentence, Maud got up 
 and went over to the window, where she re- 
 mained standing, following with interest the 
 stream of carriages moving along the avenue. 
 
 " You are not specially fond of Mr. Both- 
 well ? ". Miss Milltrum said, or rather asked.
 
 138 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Just about as fond as you are, Peggy. I 
 don't think either of us is desperately in love 
 with him." 
 
 "Why don't you like him, Maud?" 
 " Why don't you like him, Peggy ? " 
 " I never said I didn't like him." 
 " And does a woman need to say all she 
 thinks, especially if that woman is Peggy 
 Milltrum? Since the day you first met Mr. 
 Bothwell on Clarence Fillmore's yacht until 
 this hour, you have never liked him. My sweet 
 sister, you may deceive the elect, whoever they 
 are, goodness knows, I don't, but you can't 
 deceive me." 
 
 " Why, Maud, whatever put such a notion 
 into your head? Haven't I always been most 
 gracious to Mr. Bothwell, and isn't he coming 
 here to dinner this evening at my special de- 
 sire?" 
 
 " You are a veritable saint, Peggy, or, if 
 you prefer it, a sweet, artless maiden, and you 
 can hoodwink Uncle Lewis, and even lead Paul 
 Bedford astray, but I know you too well, 
 
 Peggy." 
 
 Then they looked at each other and laughed 
 
 pleasantly. 
 
 After a pause, Miss Milltrum said: 
 
 " It is almost five o'clock. Unless Judith 
 
 shortens her drive she will hardly have time to
 
 JUDITH 139 
 
 dress for dinner. She knows we are expecting 
 some friends ? " 
 
 " Yes, I told her, and she won't forget it. 
 You can always depend on Judith for such an 
 arrangement of frocks and frills as may be 
 necessary." 
 
 Judith Carreau, of whom the Misses Milltrum 
 were now speaking, was virtually a member of 
 the Milltrum household, and had been for some 
 time. It had come about from a letter written 
 to Mr. Milltrum by Judith's mother, a letter 
 which, after being read, was carefully put away 
 with Mr. Milltrum's most cherished posses- 
 sions. 
 
 When Mr. Milltrum saw the writing on the 
 envelope his face flushed, then paled to deathly 
 gray, and his hand so trembled that the letter 
 rustled between his fingers. And no wonder, 
 for that letter seemed like a message from the 
 dead. With invisible hands the curtain of the 
 departed years was drawn aside, and in an in- 
 stant he went back to a time when dainty little 
 notes in that same handwriting had come to 
 him almost every day. But that was thirty 
 years ago! 
 
 He had gone South on a business trip soon 
 after becoming partner in a struggling little 
 concern, and when in New Orleans became 
 acquainted with Kate Dumont, the daughter of 
 a prominent merchant in that city. How beau-
 
 140 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 tiful she was! And even more fascinating than 
 beautiful! There seemed a positive witchery in 
 her every movement. The poise of her dainty 
 head, the grace of her shapely form, the flash 
 from her sparkling eyes, the curve of her tempt- 
 ing lips, cast a spell upon Lewis Milltrum, from 
 which he could not escape. Gladly he lingered 
 all the winter in New Orleans, to be within 
 the circle of her presence. 
 
 For months he worshipped her in silence, not 
 daring to speak lest she would send him away. 
 He had not much to offer her save the eager 
 devotion of his soul, but with her as an inspi- 
 ration, he felt certain of making his way to fame 
 and fortune. At length his heart overflowed 
 itself, and while Kate Dumont was wilful and 
 capricious, the manly, earnest words of Lewis 
 Milltrum did not fall on unheeding or indifferent 
 ears. 
 
 She promised to wait for him, and when he 
 returned North, the thought of making her a 
 home was the ambition that aroused every 
 energy of his being. 
 
 For a time her letters were sweet, tender, 
 hopeful, all, in fact, that the most ardent lover 
 could desire. Then they began to decline, and 
 take on a formal tone, at length ceasing alto- 
 gether. 
 
 He wrote anxiously, lovingly, passionately, 
 again and again, but in vain. His partner be-
 
 JUDITH 141 
 
 ing dangerously ill at the time, and business 
 affairs calling for special care, he could not go 
 to New Orleans, though his heart was strained 
 almost beyond endurance. 
 
 Unable to bear the suspense any longer, he 
 wrote confidentially to a friend, asking him to 
 make inquiries. The reply was a terrible shock, 
 for he learned that Victor Carreau, a handsome, 
 dashing fellow, reputed to be immensely wealthy, 
 had won the favor of Miss Dumont, and their 
 marriage was arranged for an early day in the 
 coming month. Lewis Milltrum looked at that 
 letter as though horror-stricken. It seemed im- 
 possible that such a thing could be. 
 
 But when other letters came, the poor fellow 
 was forced to accept the awful truth. Then- a 
 deep, terrible silence fell upon him. He wrote 
 no letter of angry expostulation; neither did 
 he send any hollow, unmeaning congratulations. 
 He was too proud to so demean himself. But 
 on the morning of Miss Dumont's wedding-day, 
 a little package marked " strictly personal " was 
 brought to her room. 
 
 Thinking it contained some dainty wedding- 
 gift, or bit of jewelry intended for her special 
 use, she opened it eagerly, only to find every 
 note and letter she had written Lewis Milltrum, 
 the flower, now crushed and withered, she had 
 given him on the evening he had declared his 
 love for her, and also some little tokens she
 
 142 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 had sent him after he had left New Orleans. 
 There was not a line or word from him, even 
 the writing on the wrapper was in a strange 
 hand. At first she was angry, and a hot, in- 
 dignant flush swept over her proud face, and 
 she flung the package on the floor. This caused 
 some of the letters to fall under her eyes, and 
 she could not but recall the time when she had 
 written them. Then she read one and another, 
 weeping bitterly all the while. A strange way, 
 surely, for a woman to spend the morning hours 
 of her wedding-day! But she went to church 
 at the appointed time, responded distinctly in the 
 service, smiled bravely at the reception in her 
 father's house, and later in the day went off in 
 a- most becoming travelling-costume; but if 
 Victor Carreau had only known how often his 
 bride thought of the package of letters received 
 that morning, and of the man to whom she had 
 written them only a few months before, his 
 handsome face might not have worn such a 
 gracious, self-satisfied expression. 
 
 All this, and much more, passed through Mr. 
 Milltrum's mind as he sat at his desk with Kate 
 Carreau's unopened letter in his hand. 
 
 Finally he opened it and read : 
 
 " MY DEAR LEWIS : It is too late to ask 
 your forgiveness, neither would it matter much 
 to me now, as I have only a few hours to live.
 
 JUDITH 143 
 
 Oh, Lewis, what fearful mistakes we make at 
 times through our own folly and selfishness! 
 But it is not of myself that I am now writing, 
 and as I shall have gone into the land of shadows 
 before this letter reaches you, please, by the 
 memory of other and happier days, grant my 
 dying request. 
 
 " Mr. Carreau, before he died, made some un- 
 fortunate investments, and little remains now, 
 very little indeed. Things are much involved, 
 and unless some one interferes, my daughter 
 Judith is liable to suffer serious wrong. But 
 I cannot write. I am too weak. I want you 
 to become Judith's guardian. Don't refuse me, 
 Lewis. I wish I could see you again. Good- 
 bye. And as a token that you forgive me, help 
 Judith. 
 
 " KATE." 
 
 There was no hustling or bustling in Mr. Mill- 
 trum's office the day he received Mrs. Carreau's 
 letter. Paul Bedford, who had travelled several 
 hundred miles to talk over some special business 
 with him, saw at a glance that Mr. Milltrum 
 was seriously troubled about something, so he 
 went out, saying he would return the following 
 day. 
 
 But Mr. Milltrum was not in when Paul 
 called. Nor was he in for several days. And 
 more singular still, no one knew where he had
 
 144 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 gone, or when he would return. He made a 
 long journey during those days, going South 
 as far as New Orleans, a city he had not visited 
 for thirty years, then returning home by way 
 of New York, where he saw his nieces, holding 
 with them a serious and prolonged conversation. 
 What this trip cost him will never be known. 
 Money was by far the least part of it. A visit 
 to a freshly made grave for Kate Carreau 
 died the next day after writing to him cost 
 him more than all else, and if any one had seen 
 him standing at that grave with reverently un- 
 covered head and quivering lips, he would have 
 turned away, lest he intrude upon the sorrow of 
 a deeply stricken man. 
 
 Hardly less affecting was his first meeting 
 with Judith. He had prepared himself for the 
 guardianship of a young girl, for Mrs. Car- 
 reau's letter gave no hint of Judith's age, but 
 he found instead a young woman, the living 
 image of her mother, and just as he remem- 
 bered her in all the glory of her wondrous beauty. 
 He looked at Judith with startled eyes, and when 
 she moved towards him he stepped back in sheer 
 amazement. 
 
 " You are Mr. Milltrum," she said, with a soft, 
 sweet voice, one which shot back every bolt in 
 his heart, for, to him, it was Kate Dumont who 
 was speaking. 
 
 " And you are " he almost said " Kate,"
 
 JUDITH 145 
 
 the familiar name fairly trembled on his 
 tongue. 
 
 " Judith," she answered, with a sad smile, 
 gently extending her hand. 
 
 " I have come at the request of your mother," 
 he said, slowly, and speaking with difficulty. 
 " You know, I presume, that she sent for me." 
 
 " I know that she wrote to you. Your coming 
 so soon is a kindness I hardly dared to expect." 
 Robed in deep black, with a face startlingly like 
 that of her mother, and speaking in tones which 
 affected him most strangely, Judith instantly 
 made her way into Mr. Milltrum's heart, and he 
 was glad that Mrs. Carreau had placed her 
 daughter under his care. 
 
 He remained South long enough to find out 
 the exact condition of affairs, and adjust every- 
 thing to the best possible advantage. But there 
 was little to adjust. At no time had Victor 
 Carreau been a rich man, showy, and of ex- 
 pensive habits, he had given the impression of 
 wealth, but his possessions ' were largely specu- 
 lative, and by no means as valuable as people 
 imagined. As the more practical ways of the 
 North found favor, Victor Carreau's visions 
 obtained less credence, and his reign as a finan- 
 cier came to an end. Then he lost control of 
 himself, going down step by step, haunting low 
 gambling dens, common groggeries, finally be- 
 coming involved in transactions more desperate
 
 146 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 than honest. At length he died a poor, pitiable 
 wreck, leaving Mrs. Carr.eau and Judith to 
 struggle as best they could. 
 
 Fortunately, a remnant of Mrs. Carreau's 
 wedding portion remained, a pin-money arrange- 
 ment insisted on by Mr. Dumont, so she was 
 not altogether penniless, but it was a narrow, 
 pinching life, and all the more galling because 
 of the bitter contrast with former years. 
 
 Without saying anything to Judith, Mr. Mill- 
 trum paid off some mortgages on which fore- 
 closure was threatened; took care of other debts 
 long outstanding; discharged the medical and 
 funeral obligations, thus relieving her of all 
 personal burdens, and at the same time secur- 
 ing for her a small income from the property. 
 Then he proposed that she come North, and, for 
 a time at any rate, make her home with his nieces 
 in New York. This suggestion Judith gladly 
 accepted. She was anxious to leave the scenes 
 of her humiliation and poverty. She, therefore, 
 willingly accompanied Mr. Milltrum; indeed, 
 she seemed eager to get away from New Orleans. 
 
 On arriving in New York, the Misses Mill- 
 trum gave her a cordial welcome, making her 
 as far as possible a member of their family. But 
 as neither of these ladies had any romance con- 
 nected with Kate Dumont, and as they were 
 both tolerably keen of vision, they soon made 
 certain discoveries regarding Judith Carreau,
 
 JUDITH 147 
 
 which gave them a fair estimate of her character. 
 But they said nothing of this to Mr. Milltrum, 
 He had told them enough of his story to make 
 an appeal both affecting and powerful. They 
 knew that in Mr. Milltrum's heart Judith's 
 mother had a holy shrine, to which he brought 
 a devotion as constant as it was beautiful. 
 
 And so, while Judith was weighed in the bal- 
 ance, perhaps a little too critically, for the sake 
 of the dear old man to whom they were devoted, 
 they tried to make the best of everything. 
 
 " There is the carriage coming up the avenue," 
 Miss Milltrum said, glancing out of the window, 
 for the house standing on the corner, and hav- 
 ing large bay-windows, commanded an extensive 
 view. 
 
 " I told you Judith would be here in good 
 season," Maud remarked, " not all the king's 
 horses nor all the king's men, Mr. Bothwell in- 
 cluded, could keep her out beyond the time." 
 
 "Aren't you a little severe with her, Maud?" 
 
 " Why Peggy, there are lots of good things 
 in Judith. I " 
 
 Maud didn't finish the sentence, for at that 
 moment Judith entered the room.
 
 n. 
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 
 
 M, 
 
 .R. MILLTRUM was standing on the 
 hearth-rug with his back to the fire, after the 
 manner of an English country gentleman, only 
 his hands were in his pockets instead of holding 
 his coat-tails. Miss Milltrum was snugly en- 
 sconced in an easy-chair, one of the most com- 
 fortable in her cozy sitting-room. They had 
 been discussing various matters which led up 
 to Mr. Milltrum saying: 
 
 " Maud, in her last few letters, has mentioned 
 a Mr. Bothwell. Who is he, Peggy ? " 
 
 " A gentleman we met on Mr. Fillmore's yacht 
 at the races last season." 
 
 " But that doesn't tell me who he is. What 
 do you think of him ? Do you like him ? " 
 
 Mr. Milltrum rarely contented himself with 
 a single question. 
 
 " He is fairly good-looking, anywhere from 
 thirty to thirty-five, and as agreeable and well- 
 mannered as men usually are." 
 148
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 149 
 
 Miss Milltrum accompanied her reply with 
 a non-committal smile. 
 
 " Peggy, you have a positive genius for 
 answering questions. What a witness you would 
 make in a court-room! How the lawyers would 
 enjoy you! I didn't ask you about Mr. Both- 
 well's looks or manners, but who he is, and 
 what you think of him ? " 
 
 Though speaking in a bantering tone, Mr. 
 Milltrum was really serious. 
 
 " Honestly, Uncle Lewis, I know almost noth- 
 ing of Mr. Bothwell. I met him first, as I told 
 you, at the yacht races. Then again at the 
 Fillmores', where we went to dinner. After 
 that we ran across him a number of times. Bert 
 Vernon asked us to send him a card for one of 
 our gatherings. Naturally, he called after that. 
 But he is coming here this evening, and you can 
 form your own opinion of him." 
 
 " From what Maud says, I infer that he is 
 attentive to Judith ? " 
 
 There was a strain of anxiety very audible in 
 this question. 
 
 " That, perhaps, is easily explained. Judith, 
 of course, has not gone out anywhere since com- 
 ing to New York. Our friends all know that she 
 is in mourning for her mother." 
 
 Here Mr. Milltrum looked at the rug, draw- 
 ing in his lips after a fashion peculiar to himself. 
 
 " Consequently, she has not seen many people.
 
 150 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mr. Bothwell has been quite friendly, taking her 
 driving a few times, but only the usual round 
 in Central Park." 
 
 " Nothing extraordinary in that." The strain 
 of anxiety in Mr. Milltrum's voice had sensibly 
 declined. 
 
 " No, but Maud, not having outgrown her 
 romantic notions, has probably attached more 
 importance to Mr. Both well's courtesies than he 
 intended." 
 
 " Very likely, but Judith is sure to receive 
 considerable attention sooner or later. With the 
 exception of yourself, Peggy, well, I will add 
 Maud, seeing how handsomely she is flounced 
 and f urbelowed, I don't remember ever meeting 
 a more attractive-looking woman than Judith." 
 
 Maud, who had entered the room while Mr. 
 Milltrum was speaking, made an elaborate curt- 
 sey, in recognition of her uncle's compliment. 
 Miss Milltrum smiled pleasantly, glancing at her 
 sister, whose gown was not unlike her own, and 
 equally becoming. Then they went down-stairs, 
 for it was almost dinner-time. 
 
 Paul Bedford was the first to arrive, which 
 might be expected, his relations with the Mill- 
 trums being far from those of an ordinary guest. 
 He has changed perceptibly since we last saw 
 him, though there is the same pleasant smile and 
 the same rich voice, but he looks older than his 
 years would warrant, and has an air of maturity
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 151 
 
 for which we are not prepared. His hair is not 
 so luxuriant as when Miriam at times would 
 twist it around her slender fingers, and, if one 
 looked closely here and there, signs of gray 
 might be seen. Though only turned thirty, his 
 face has lines of care, also that firm, set look, 
 which comes to men whose lives are earnest and 
 serious. His eyes have a sharper gleam than 
 in the olden days, while his bearing has more 
 of reserve. 
 
 These five years have meant much to Paul 
 Bedford. After Miriam's death, he gave him- 
 self up to business with singular devotion, throw- 
 ing into it an energy which seemed inexhaust- 
 ible. Soon Mr. Milltrum discovered that Paul 
 had rare gifts for organization, so he allowed 
 him to work out certain plans, which proved 
 marvellously successful. Then he gave him 
 larger opportunities, which resulted in the same 
 way. The next step was an interest in the firm, 
 and this so aroused the ambition of the young 
 partner that the business increased at a pro- 
 digious rate. Paul went into everything, 
 mines, railroads, ships, sometimes taking what 
 other men considered serious risks, but never 
 failing to come out on the right side of the 
 market, and with profits that amazed Mr. Mill- 
 trum. Sometimes the old gentleman shook his 
 head warningly, but Paul only smiled, and as 
 the results more than justified his course, Mr.
 
 152 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Milltrum gradually allowed him to have his 
 way. 
 
 His prescience was simply amazing. Rarely 
 was he caught tripping. Men of suave address 
 and tempting speech came with schemes that 
 were most plausible, but in a glance he would 
 see the fatal weakness of their plan. Combina- 
 tions at which Wall Street looked on in wonder, 
 Paul carried through with apparent ease, and 
 there was hardly a firm within sound of old 
 Trinity chimes which would not have eagerly 
 welcomed him as a partner. 
 
 " Mr. Bedford seems to be having things his 
 own way," Mr. Crewe said one day to Mr. Saxby, 
 after Paul had made a clean sweep in Wall Street, 
 causing some men to dance a lively tune, and 
 pay the piper proportionately. 
 
 " Youth is sometimes reckless," Mr. Saxby 
 replied, looking up from his desk at Mr. Crewe, 
 who had brought in the latest Wall Street bul- 
 letin. 
 
 " But Mr. Bedford is never reckless ; he is 
 daring, wonderfully so; throws himself against 
 some of the strongest combinations I have ever 
 known, but everything is so planned that he 
 must succeed. Blixter and Blexter dropped at 
 least a million in their last fight with him." 
 
 With the Saxbys Paul maintained a merely 
 formal relation, for he keenly remembered the 
 harshness with which they had treated Miriam,
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 153 
 
 only repenting when she lay at the gates of 
 death. 
 
 Mr. Saxby had several times urged him to 
 come to New York, offering him strong induce- 
 ments, but when he thought of Miriam, his 
 heart turned to stone. 
 
 Small wonder, therefore, that the years have 
 so changed him. Yet he is no less handsome 
 than of yore, and as we see him talking in his 
 grave, dignified way with Miss Milltrum, he 
 seems just such a man as many women would 
 love with a passion stronger than death. 
 
 Next to Paul Bedford, in point of arrival, 
 was Mr. Gerald Bothwell, a gentleman who has 
 already provoked some discussion in the Mill- 
 trum household, and who may cause even more. 
 
 Mr. Bothwell is not as tall as Paul Bedford, 
 but of broader shoulders, deeper chest, and so 
 formed as to suggest great physical strength. 
 Most women would consider him handsome, but 
 the more critical, particularly after a close scru- 
 tiny, might regard him with less favor. His 
 eyes were large, but restless, and so heavily 
 browed as to give the appearance of peering 
 rather than openly looking. His mouth was 
 partly hidden by a jet black mustache, which 
 drooped gracefully at the ends, but nothing could 
 hide the positive set of his lips, or the sense of 
 power they conveyed. Nature had failed to pro- 
 portion his neck, and this was a great pity, for
 
 154 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 he had a splendid head, massive, shapely, impos- 
 ing, but losing much of its impressiveness, because 
 it rested so near to his shoulders. There was 
 something about him which indicated tremen- 
 dous force of will, and also a disposition which 
 would not easily brook restraint. 
 
 In the groups now forming might be noticed 
 Clarence Fillmore, stouter, ruddier, fond of yacht- 
 ing as ever, and his wife, whom we knew as Kitty 
 Vernon. Kitty is trim and tailor-made, as a 
 Boston woman never fails to be, though, despite 
 the carefully fitted gown, she has a matronly 
 look, which, however, detracts nothing from her 
 appearance. 
 
 At the right moment Judith came in, that 
 moment when, for some unaccountable reason, 
 conversation drops away, and the guests wait 
 expectantly. As Paul had frequently heard Mr. 
 Milltrum speak of Miss Carreau, naturally he had 
 some desire to meet her. Though taller than the 
 average woman, Judith was of such superb figure, 
 her bearing so graceful that her height seemed 
 in exquisite proportion, while, if she did not sug- 
 gest the dainty ways and feminine graces usually 
 so much admired, her gracious air more than 
 supplied their absence. 
 
 Her forehead was low and broad, crowned with 
 a wealth of hair black and shiny as coal. Her 
 eyes, large and dark, conveyed that delicious 
 languorous expression peculiar to those of South-
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 155 
 
 ern blood. If seen in outline, her features might 
 hint at Semitic ancestry, but in full view, espe- 
 cially when lighted by a smile, or stirred by con- 
 versation, she revealed a beauty as strange as it 
 was dazzling. Her dress of black crepe de chine, 
 unrelieved by flower or jewel, was in sharp con- 
 trast with the brilliant costumes of the other 
 ladies present, but as a foil to her faultless neck 
 and shoulders, nothing could be more effective. 
 
 In the pairing off, Judith was placed with Paul, 
 a proper arrangement under the circumstances, 
 but by no means pleasing to Mr. Bothwell, though 
 only Judith saw the angry light which, for a 
 moment, flamed in his eyes. If Maud Milltrum 
 had seen it, she might not have smiled so pleas- 
 antly at Mr. Bothwell when he took her in to 
 dinner. 
 
 " I have heard Mr. Milltrum speak of you 
 so often that I have already formed a most de- 
 lightful acquaintance," Paul observed, as they 
 were going to the dining-room. 
 
 " Mr. Milltrum has been very kind to me," 
 Judith replied, in a tone just above a whisper. 
 Paul instantly recognized the delightful Southern 
 accent, so different from the harsh, abrupt voice 
 of the West. 
 
 " And he has been more than kind to me," 
 Paul said, looking gratefully at Mr. Milltrum, who, 
 at that moment, was leading Peggy to her place. 
 
 Judith made no reply, possibly for lack of
 
 156 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 opportunity, as the company was being seated, 
 a time never favorable for definite conversation. 
 
 " Besides our mutual gratitude to Mr. Mill- 
 trum, we have another bond of sympathy," Paul 
 remarked, quietly. 
 
 " And that is ? " As Judith spoke, she 
 looked at Paul, her face lighted with a smile, and 
 her eyes glowing with mysterious fire. 
 
 So strangely beautiful did she appear that Paul 
 was positively startled. In the parlor, when go- 
 ing through the round of introductions, her face 
 was in comparative repose, and the impression 
 on Paul was that of coldness, a proud, imperious 
 consciousness of her beauty, and the homage to 
 which it was entitled. 
 
 But now she seemed transfigured. Her face 
 was illumined. Besides her beauty, there was 
 a fascination in her every movement, which Paul 
 could not but feel. 
 
 " We are both from the South, though you 
 may not recognize the claim of a Virginian," 
 Paul answered, returning her smile, a movement 
 which did not escape the watchful eyes of Mr. 
 Bothwell. 
 
 " Oh, gladly ! my mother's people came from 
 Virginia ! Perhaps you are acquainted in Eving- 
 ton?" 
 
 " Certainly I am. My home was in Charle- 
 mont, not more than twenty miles from Eving- 
 ton."
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 157 
 
 " I once went with my mother to visit the 
 Campbells, but that was when I was a little girl, 
 a long time ago," Judith said, giving to her words 
 a reminiscent tinge, more playful than serious. 
 
 " And I went with my mother, and more than 
 once, to visit the Campbells, but that was when 
 I was a little boy, a long, long time ago," Paul 
 said, in the same vein. 
 
 " My mother was related to the Campbells," 
 Judith said, seriously. 
 
 " It was my father who had that privilege," 
 Paul answered, just as seriously. 
 
 " Then you are a sort of cousin," Judith 
 said, again looking at Paul, her eyes glowing even 
 more strangely than before, and her smile won- 
 drously rich and radiant. 
 
 " Any sort of a cousin, provided you acknowl- 
 edge the relationship," Paul answered, gallantly. 
 Then he did what most men would have done, 
 gave her hand a cousinly little squeeze, which was 
 duly acknowledged, and returned in kind. And 
 why not? There was no reason for a most ex- 
 quisite flush to steal into Judith's face, or for 
 Paul to feel excited in the least. Nevertheless, 
 such was the case, though probably no one noticed 
 it except Mr. Bothwell, who pretended to be lis- 
 tening intently to something Miss Milltrum was 
 saying. And Miss Milltrum was always worth 
 listening to, and never more than then, for she 
 was telling the story of a woman who gravely
 
 158 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 assured her that she was distinctly conscious of 
 a prior existence, and at times had the most vivid 
 remembrances of people, conversations, and inci- 
 dents connected with her former life. 
 
 As Paul listened, his mind went back to that 
 eventful night in London, when he saw Irving 
 in " The Bells," and how he was impressed with 
 the trancelike sleep of the guilty innkeeper. 
 Scores, ay, hundreds, of times since then had his 
 poor, lonely soul wandered hither and thither in 
 search of his lost Miriam. Eagerly he had read 
 everything which held out any hope of communi- 
 cation with the spirit world. Many a midnight 
 hour had he sat in the quiet of his room, strain- 
 ing every fibre of his being that he might in some 
 way realize her presence. 
 
 " Miriam ! Miriam ! " he would call in hoarse 
 whispers, then wait, listening intently for her 
 reply. But the clock only ticked on the mantel- 
 piece, voices spoke loudly on the street, or the 
 winter's wind fiercely rattled the window near 
 where he sat in his loneliness and despair. 
 
 Through the day, in the rush and strife of 
 business, he would put away the longings of his 
 heart, doing it with such success that no one ever 
 thought of him as anything but a man of iron, 
 whose one thought was to conquer the world of 
 finance. But when the day was over, and the 
 excitement had died out, often would he walk 
 by the lake-front, fairly revelling in the wild
 
 A DINNER-PARTY 159 
 
 winds as they swept from the distant shore, feel- 
 ing a strange joy in the carnival of tempest and 
 storm ! 
 
 At other times, in the hush of the summer's 
 evening, when the long, shadowy arms of the 
 night would be reaching out from the sky, ready 
 to take the tired city to their embrace and hush 
 it into sleep, he has sat as one in a dream, looking 
 for the face that was dearer to him than life. 
 
 Many good, true, kindly women, who pitied 
 his loneliness, had smiled upon him, and would 
 have shared it willingly, but with him Miriam 
 was not dead, she was living; to think, therefore, 
 of asking another to take her place would be 
 impossible. 
 
 " You know this woman ? " Kitty Fillmore 
 inquired. As almost everything occult has its 
 home in Boston, Kitty was naturally the first one 
 to ask this question. 
 
 : ' Yes, I know her well. She is a bright, in- 
 telligent woman. There is nothing visionary or 
 romantic about her. She is happily married, has 
 a pleasant home, is in good circumstances, takes 
 splendid care of her children, doesn't write poe- 
 try or love-stories, and, all in all, is one of the 
 most sensible women of my acquaintance. Yet 
 on this point she is simply immovable. She won't 
 argue with you, nor go into any discussion; she 
 merely smiles when doubts are suggested, and 
 turns the conversation into another channel."
 
 160 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " As a theory, there is much in its favor," 
 Paul Bedford remarked, gravely, " and, if true, 
 it explains many things now very mysterious. 
 Still, I find this life heavy enough without taking 
 on any other." 
 
 " This lady, of whom my niece has spoken, 
 makes me think of a turtle, with her other life 
 covering her as a clumsy shell. But she probably 
 enjoys it, as most likely the turtle does. Which 
 reminds me," and Mr. Milltrum broke out with 
 a story that ended as all good dinner-stories 
 should end. Soon after Miss Milltrum gave that 
 unseen, but effective signal, with which a hostess 
 announces a return to the parlor.
 
 MR. 
 
 III. 
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 
 
 L MILLTRUM soon made up his mind 
 concerning Gerald Bothwell. And Mr. Mill- 
 trum's mind when once made up usually re- 
 mained so. Not that he was more obstinate or 
 positive than the average man, but he had a 
 way of holding to his opinions with a consist- 
 ency which rarely declined. 
 
 He was, of course, very courteous to Mr. Both- 
 well. On being introduced, he shook hands with 
 him cordially, inquired in genuine Western fash- 
 ion as to his health, was glad to meet him, and 
 several times during the evening made openings 
 for him to share in the general conversation. 
 But Mr. Bothwell disappointed him, and he found 
 himself hoping that Judith had not placed any 
 importance on his attentions. 
 
 After most of the guests had gone, Mr. Both- 
 well included, Mr. Milltrum said to Bert Vernon : 
 
 " Come to my den and have a smoke. You can 
 come up later, Paul. Peggy has some plans for 
 to-morrow she wants to talk over with you." 
 
 161
 
 162 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 In a few minutes Bert was in Mr. Milltrum's 
 den, a room specially set apart for his use, into 
 which the Misses Milltrum had put everything 
 that coziness and comfort could suggest. Bert 
 dropped into a luxurious chair not far from a 
 little table on which were certain liquid refresh- 
 ments and a box of rare cigars. This was not 
 Bert's first visit to Mr. Milltrum's den, for, 
 despite the disparity in their age, they were com- 
 paratively intimate. 
 
 " What do you know of Mr. Bothwell ? " Mr. 
 Milltrum inquired, as he held a lighter to his 
 cigar. 
 
 " Very little, almost nothing, in fact," Bert 
 replied, looking at his cigar with a goodly meas- 
 ure of contentment. 
 
 " My niece tells me you asked her to send him 
 a card for one of her jamborees." Mr. Milltrum 
 had now seated himself on a chair not far from 
 Bert Vernon's. 
 
 " Yes, but he put it to me in a way I couldn't 
 well refuse. Afterwards I was sorry." 
 
 " Would you mind telling me where you first 
 met him, and how you got acquainted. I am 
 not asking out of mere curiosity." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Milltrum, I am ashamed to say 
 it, more especially after what you said to me 
 over a year ago, but since you ask me a plain, 
 direct question I met him at Cranburg's." 
 
 " That place on ? "
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 163 
 
 Bert nodded. 
 
 " Was he playing? " 
 
 Bert nodded again. 
 
 " Who introduced you ? " 
 
 " Tom Shirland." 
 
 " Shirland usually knows what he is about. 
 At least, I should think so. His father, Judge 
 Shirland, is an old friend of mine." 
 
 " As Tom introduced Bothwell, I thought, of 
 course, it was all right, and the fellow made him- 
 self so agreeable that when Clarence Fillmore 
 was making up a party for the yacht races, 
 I got Bothwell in, where he met your 
 nieces.' 
 
 " Does Shirland know anything of him ? " 
 
 " That, Mr. Milltrum, is where the shoe 
 pinches. One day I asked Tom where he met 
 Bothwell, and he was quite huffy about it. Tom 
 is airish at times, and carries the earth in his 
 vest-pocket. So he suggested that I mind my 
 own business, which, I think, included going to 
 the devil, and all the rest of it. This made me 
 furious, for I knew then he was keeping some- 
 thing back. I therefore let Tom have it straight, 
 told him that we were being held responsible 
 for Bothwell, and were virtually his social en- 
 dorsers. After a time, but not until I forced 
 him, he owned up to meeting Bothwell at Nathan 
 Neumarck's." 
 
 " Nathan Neumarck's ! "
 
 164 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Yes, for Cranburg's cleaned Tom out, and 
 he was forced to give paper." 
 
 " Which Neumarck took for a generous con- 
 sideration." 
 
 " But not unless Bothwell endorsed it." 
 
 " Shirland, therefore, is under obligations to 
 Bothwell." 
 
 " Just as I am, Mr. Milltrum. Don't look so 
 hurt or surprised, for I feel bad enough as it is! 
 And I'm going to make a clean breast of it, some- 
 thing I've wanted to do ever since the infernal 
 thing took place. One night I went to Cranburg's, 
 and for an hour had a run of rare luck. Every- 
 thing came my way. My pile was big enough 
 to start a bank. A crowd gathered around, and 
 everything shut down except our game. Natu- 
 rally, I got excited as I made scoop after scoop, 
 and it looked one time as if Cranburg would have 
 to throw up the sponge. But after a while luck 
 went against me. Then I got reckless, and went 
 in for higher stakes. Bothwell wanted me to 
 stop, but how could I stop then? It would have 
 been a case of white feather. So I went on think- 
 ing my turn would come again. But it didn't. 
 Down went my pile until I was where I started. 
 Again Bothwell wanted me to stop, but my blood 
 was up, and I kept the thing going for an hour 
 longer." 
 
 " How much did you lose? "
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 165 
 
 " Don't ask me, Mr. Milltrum, I would rather 
 not say." 
 
 " Well, how did you get straightened out ? " 
 
 " I'm not straightened out, and won't be for 
 some time." 
 
 " But things had to be arranged." 
 
 " Confound it all ! " Bert said, impatiently, 
 then flinging his half-burnt cigar into the fire, 
 he started from his chair and began to walk about 
 the room. 
 
 But Mr. Milltrum quietly said : 
 
 " Out with it, Bert, out with it." 
 
 " Nathan Neumarck did the arranging ; he 
 took my paper, damn him for an old rascal ! " 
 
 " And did Mr. Bothwell endorse your 
 notes?" 
 
 " Yes, Neumarck insisted on it ; so when he 
 asked me for a place on Fillmore's yacht, and 
 then later for a card from Miss Milltrum, I 
 couldn't well refuse." 
 
 " Have you any idea of what Mr. Bothwell's 
 business is? " 
 
 " Something in shipping; at least, I think so, 
 for, after leaving Neumarck's, whose place is 
 away down-town, I went with him to Burling 
 Slip, where he has an office." 
 
 " And you went in ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! but there wasn't much to see, ex- 
 cept what I would call a lot of junk. It is the 
 rummiest place I was ever in."
 
 166 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mr. Milltrum made no reply, contenting him- 
 self with lighting another cigar, and affection- 
 ately stroking his chin, a favorite exercise when 
 ruminating. Then he said: 
 
 " The first thing is to get your notes from 
 Neumarck. You called him a damned old ras- 
 cal, and that suits him exactly. Only say next 
 time that he is also an infernal thief. You didn't 
 see Neumarck himself, did you ? " 
 
 " No, some kind of an old bookkeeper did the 
 business, going with my notes to an inner office, 
 then coming out with the money." 
 
 " Did you ever see Cranburg? " 
 
 " Now that you ask me, I never did." 
 
 " Well, Bert, Cranburg and Neumarck are only 
 names, and represent the same person. I don't 
 wonder you are surprised. It is a fact, never- 
 theless. Cranburg has his decoys, who get the 
 young fools I can't help it, Bert, for they are 
 nothing else to lose their money at gaming- 
 tables; then Neumarck takes their notes for 
 more money, which they proceed to empty into 
 his gaping maw. Some day the dirty fox, who 
 is behind this business, will be run to earth. 
 Now, if you will allow me to handle your affairs 
 with Mr. Neuimarck, I won't say a word to Paul 
 Bedford, for I know how much he thinks of you, 
 otherwise, I must tell him what a Jack you have 
 been." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum's voice had just the right tone
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 167 
 
 sufficiently serious to be impressive, yet by no 
 means lacking in hearty sympathy. 
 
 " All right, Mr. Milltrum, you will find, though, 
 I am in a nasty mess. But if you can help me 
 out, I will pay you back to the last cent, if it takes 
 everything I have." 
 
 No more was said, as Paul Bedford came in at 
 that moment, and the conversation took another 
 turn. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Bothwell was going to his 
 apartment in rather an unenviable frame of mind. 
 The evening had not brought to him all the 
 enjoyment it promised. He had counted on 
 making a favorable impression on the Milltrum 
 household, and expected that the laurels of the 
 evening would fall to him. Judith had spoken 
 of Uncle Milltrum in such a way that he looked 
 for an old-fashioned Hoosier, who would appear 
 very farmerlike boots of the ploughman order, 
 trousers ending abruptly at the ankle, coat adapted 
 to all weathers and conditions, and whose loud 
 guffaw would fill the Milltrums' parlor to over- 
 flowing. Instead, he found a carefully dressed 
 old gentleman, whose coat fitted as well as his 
 own, and who looked as though evening clothes 
 were anything but a novelty. One glance at Mr. 
 Milltrum satisfied Mr. Bothwell that the choice 
 collection of stories and the little bundle of 
 patronage he had provided specially for him 
 would not be necessary. Indeed, before the even-
 
 168 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 ing was half through he had discovered that the 
 shoe was on the other foot, and as the foot 
 happened to be large, and the shoe small, Mr. 
 Bothwell was decidedly uncomfortable. 
 
 Then there was Paul Bedford, of whom Judith 
 had spoken in the most casual way. He there- 
 fore expected to meet an undersized, underpaid, 
 humble young clerk, to whom an evening at the 
 Milltrums' would mean a token of condescension, 
 involving supreme gratitude. But to his chagrin, 
 Bedford was on the most friendly footing with 
 the Milltrums, -more than once addressing Miss 
 Milltrum by her Christian name, though in a 
 low tone intended only for herself. Evidently, 
 his relation with the household was one of pe- 
 culiar confidence, judging by the way in which 
 they all treated him. 
 
 But what angered him more than anything 
 else was the glee with which Judith announced 
 in the parlor after dinner the discovery of a rela- 
 tionship to Paul Bedford, and the manifest satis- 
 faction she took in speaking of him as her cousin. 
 This was serious. Cousins, when two or three 
 degrees removed, are always dangerous. There 
 is just enough relationship to permit of close 
 social intercourse, without starting comment, 
 and not enough to prevent the cousinship from 
 deepening into something far more definite. 
 That Bedford might easily prove a dangerous 
 rival, Bothwell had to admit. He was undeni-
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 169 
 
 ably handsome, but there was something far more 
 impressive than good looks, an air of mental 
 force, of moral fibre, that form of character 
 which unites the daring of a man with the tender- 
 ness of a woman, Bothwell may have been de- 
 ficient in moral force, destitute, possibly, of the 
 finer attributes of real manhood, but he could 
 recognize these gifts in others. Often the villain 
 in the gallery, or the dress circle, applauds the 
 hero on the stage; and sometimes the woman 
 in the boxes, or parquet, who has sold herself 
 for a mess of pottage, sheds sympathetic tears 
 when the footlight heroine dies defending her 
 virtue. 
 
 From every point of view, Bothwell felt that 
 the evening was a failure. To a nature such as 
 Judith's, he knew that Paul Bedford would ap- 
 peal with singular force. He must, therefore, 
 bring matters to a crisis, so he smiled, an un- 
 pleasant, dangerous smile. By this time his cab 
 had reached the " Sembrada," a palatial apart- 
 ment house, fronting on the west side of Central 
 Park. 
 
 On going to his rooms, the door was opened 
 by a man dark enough to be a Nubian, of stature 
 so low as to suggest a dwarf, but with arms and 
 shoulders like those of a giant. In his ears, 
 sailor-fashion, were small gold rings, though 
 there was nothing of the seaman in his apparel. 
 
 How long he had been in Mr. Bothwell's
 
 170 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 service, no one could tell; the people of the 
 " Sembrada " only knew that he came when Mr. 
 Both well first took up his residence there; at- 
 tended to the unpacking and arranging of the 
 furniture, and seemed to understand where every- 
 thing was to be placed. This implied a familiarity 
 with Mr. Bothwell's possessions, and so it was 
 believed that his term of service had been of 
 considerable duration. But here conjecture ended. 
 And for the best of reasons; for Yoba, as Mr. 
 Bothwell called him, had lost his tongue, not 
 figuratively, but literally, the operation of glossot- 
 omy having been performed in a very primitive 
 fashion by some pirates on the west coast of 
 Africa. Being unable to read or write, his com- 
 municating qualities were quite limited. But he 
 could hear with extraordinary acuteness. And 
 his eyes were wonderfully quick and keen. As 
 a confidential servant he was invaluable, for the 
 most private conversation could be carried on 
 with safety in his presence, and secrets of what- 
 ever nature be freely reposed in him. That he 
 served Mr. Bothwell with rare devotion was very 
 manifest, and that he entertained for him a sin- 
 gular affection was equally apparent. 
 
 " Any messages, letters, or telegrams, Yoba ? " 
 Mr. Bothwell inquired as he went in. 
 
 Yoba nodded. 
 
 " Any one called since I went out ? " 
 
 Yoba shook his head.
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 171 
 
 " Mix me a drink, and bring it to my room ? " 
 Again Yoba nodded, and immediately disap- 
 peared. 
 
 If Mr. Milltrum had followed Gerald Both- 
 well to his room, he surely would have repeated 
 the question he put to Bert Vernon concerning 
 Mr. Bothwell's business. And most certainly he 
 would have recalled Bert's reply. For a stranger 
 apartment was probably never seen. It was Turk- 
 ish, Persian, Indian, with a dash of Chinese and 
 African. There were great tusks from Africa, 
 mandarin robes from China, exquisite silks from 
 India, silver ornaments of every imaginable 
 variety from Persia, and any quantity of rugs 
 and hangings from Turkey. From the ceiling 
 hung a lamp, which undoubtedly had diffused 
 its mellow light in some heathen temple, while 
 on the floor was stretched a lion's skin, with the 
 head of the royal beast so adjusted that it seemed 
 instinct with life. Chairs worthy of a palace were 
 disposed so carelessly as to dull the sense of value, 
 though not even a huge Bagdad cover could hide 
 the wonderful carving of an Oriental lounge, 
 which occupied the space between a window and 
 the mantelpiece. There was no attempt at order, 
 indeed, the rooms were too crowded to admit of 
 any, and one missed the touch, mysterious and 
 undefinable, which proclaims the presence and 
 control of feminine taste. It was not in any 
 sense the abode of a sybarite, for there were
 
 172 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 too many ugly and dangerous-looking weapons 
 around, such as heavy revolvers, short swords, 
 breech-loading rifles, but if the walls had caved 
 in after the manner of a ship's sides, and there 
 had been port-holes instead of windows, Mr. 
 Bothwell's apartment, at least the rooms occu- 
 pied by himself, would have recalled the cabin 
 of an old-time East Indiaman, whose hold was 
 unable to stow all of its cargo; or that of some 
 pirate of the Spanish Main, with the captain's 
 share of the plunder heaped within his own 
 quarters. 
 
 No one ever entered Mr. Bothwell's rooms 
 during his absence. On that point, Yoba had 
 strict orders. The guests of the " Sembrada," 
 in a few instances, had made overtures looking 
 to an exchange of calls, but Yoba either failed 
 to comprehend their wishes, or had been so in- 
 structed by Mr. Bothwell, that the leaving of a 
 card was the most any one accomplished. As 
 Mr. Bothwell's card was not sent in exchange, 
 the attempt at social intercourse was not a bril- 
 liant success. At rare intervals, Mr. Bothwell 
 entertained visitors, but always at night, his 
 guests coming in after theatre hours, and leaving 
 before morning. Who these guests were, and 
 what their business was, only Mr. Bothwell and 
 Yoba knew, and as the one wouldn't tell, and 
 the other couldn't, the " Sembrada " people were 
 left to their surmisings.
 
 GERALD BOTHWELL 173 
 
 As time went on, it became evident that Mr. 
 Bothwell had no desire for anything but the most 
 casual acquaintance. He had his own table in 
 the dining-room, never sharing it with any one. 
 He glanced over the morning papers at break- 
 fast, but no letters, all mail being, invariably, sent 
 to his rooms, and seemingly gave no heed to the 
 other guests present. He nodded occasionally 
 to the men whom he met in the smoking-room, 
 but beyond this chary exchange of civilities he 
 never went. So now he came and went without 
 any one troubling him, for the " Sembrada " 
 people had abandoned all effort to include him 
 in their circle. 
 
 Glancing hastily over the letters Yoba had 
 brought in, Bothwell selected one, which must 
 have been brought by a special messenger, as it 
 had no stamp or postal mark on the envelope. 
 Opening it eagerly, he read : 
 
 "V. P. off S. H. Something must be done 
 to-night. Will wait for you." 
 
 To the average mind, an unsigned note, writ- 
 ten in pencil on a piece of coarse paper, might 
 not mean very much, but this was not the case 
 with Mr. Bothwell. 
 
 " Yoba, get out my V. P. togs, and be quick, 
 like a good fellow. Then get into your own. 
 We are going out to-night." 
 
 Yoba nodded, smiled, hastened to a trunk 
 hidden in another room, and in five minutes Mr.
 
 174 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Bothwell had exchanged his unimpeachable even- 
 ing clothes for those of the captain of a coaster, 
 and Yoba from a well-dressed house servant was 
 transformed to an able-bodied seaman. Hasten- 
 ing to the nearest " L " station, Mr. Bothwell and 
 Yoba were soon on their way down-town, and 
 ere long reached Burling Slip.
 
 IV. 
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM 
 
 M, 
 
 .R. MILLTRUM was in a philosophic mood, 
 not an unusual thing with elderly gentlemen, who 
 have dined comfortably, wined respectably, and 
 whose after-dinner cigar is of the brand which 
 tends to amiable reflection. 
 
 On this particular evening he had been dining 
 at the Holland House with Paul Bedford, and 
 after dinner, in Paul's sitting-room, had various 
 things to say. 
 
 " It isn't any use, Paul. We may try to regu- 
 late our lives in every possible way, but the wise 
 man will always allow a wide margin for con- 
 tingencies. The engineer in charge of our train 
 has a way of disregarding signals, running past 
 stations, sometimes getting switched off the track, 
 and all our pulling at the bell-rope or shouting 
 from the car-window won't affect him in the 
 least." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum leaned back contentedly in his 
 chair, and looked pleasantly at Paul, whose face 
 was more serious than usual. 
 
 176
 
 176 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Sometimes it seems as if the engineer had 
 fallen asleep," Mr. Milltrum continued, " and 
 the train was having things its own way." 
 
 " That is all very well when the track is clear, 
 otherwise there is a chance of trouble," Paul said, 
 looking suggestively at Mr. Milltrum, then flick- 
 ing the ashes from his cigar. 
 
 " Saxby & Co. at it again ? " Mr. Milltrum 
 inquired. 
 
 " Yes." Paul's tone was that of annoyance. 
 
 " Anything new ? " 
 
 " Yes ; they have gone in with Bothwell, and 
 are trying to block our G. S. & W." 
 
 " How in creation did Bothwell know of G. S. 
 & W.?" 
 
 " That is a mystery. But he found out some- 
 how." 
 
 " He couldn't have got a hint from Chicago ? " 
 
 " No one in Chicago knew anything about it," 
 Paul answered, moodily, for he had been seriously 
 troubled concerning this matter. 
 
 " The business was only settled a few days 
 ago," Mr. Milltrum said, reflectively. " We 
 talked it over at my nieces' the other evening 
 when you were there." 
 
 " Yes, but we were alone at the time. The 
 Misses Milltrum, you may remember, went out 
 after dinner, and Judith, having a headache, re- 
 tired early." 
 
 " So Bothwell has given the cue to Saxby ? "
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM 177 
 
 " No doubt about it. The result, you can 
 imagine." 
 
 For a few moments, Mr. Milltrum sat holding 
 his cigar between his thumb and finger. He was 
 not a philosopher now. The comfortably dined 
 and respectably wined gentleman who had come 
 up-stairs an hour before had gone, and in his 
 stead was the keen, daring financier, who felt 
 that a mighty battle awaited him on the coming 
 morrow, and for which every energy would be 
 called into play. This G. S. & W. was a darling 
 scheme of his. For years he had been planning 
 a consolidation of certain railroads, which, if 
 accomplished, would mean a system larger and 
 more powerful than the country had yet seen. 
 
 Paul had been at work ever since coming to 
 New York perfecting the details, and in a few 
 days expected that everything would be ready. 
 The utmost secrecy had been observed. Not a 
 whisper had been heard on the street. No one, 
 seemingly, suspected the possibility of such a 
 movement. And now Bothwell had discovered 
 it ! But worse, far worse, he had formed a com- 
 bination with Mr. Saxby. 
 
 " Now, Paul," Mr. Milltrum said, rising from 
 his chair, and walking across the room with the 
 vigor of a young man, his eyes flashing, and his 
 face intense with excitement, " you know what 
 G. S. & W. means to me. It must go through, no 
 matter who is hurt. I give you a free hand, and
 
 178 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 by this time you know what that means. Fight 
 it in your own way, but fight it to a finish, if it 
 takes every penny I have in the world." 
 
 " Of course it must go through," Paul re- 
 plied, decidedly. " We are sponsors for it, and 
 the credit of the house is involved. But I am 
 not troubled on that account. I am sorry, though, 
 for Mr. Saxby. Unless he is careful, he may 
 get hurt, and so seriously as to cripple him. 
 I never can forget, Mr. Milltrum, that he is 
 Miriam's father. That he should persistently 
 get in the way distresses me exceedingly." 
 
 " My dear Paul, if you desire to hate a man 
 everlastingly, do him an injury. The man who 
 hurts me, I can easily forgive, but when I hurt 
 a man, I never forgive him." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum, now that G. S. & W. had been 
 disposed of, resumed his role of philosopher. 
 
 " You mean that Mr. Saxby ? " 
 
 " That is just what I mean. There is no use 
 in mincing matters." 
 
 " But we have been kind to him." 
 
 " Which only makes him more bitter. My 
 dear fellow, Saxby would gladly go bankrupt 
 to-morrow, if, by doing so, he could pull us down 
 with him. But let us talk about something else. 
 I have no patience with Saxby, and if he has been 
 foolish enough to get in the way of G. S. & W., 
 he must take the consequences." 
 
 " How about Both well ? " There was a gleam
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM 179 
 
 of mischief in Paul Bedford's eyes as he asked 
 this question, for Mr. Milltrum's first dislike of 
 Bothwell had deepened into positive hatred. 
 
 " Speaking of Bothwell reminds me," said Mr. 
 Milltrum, lighting another cigar, and assuming 
 the attitude of one who had a good story to tell, 
 " that, at the suggestion of Bert Vernon, I went 
 a short time since to Cranburg's " 
 
 " To Cranburg's ! " Paul interrupted, incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 " Yes, to Cranburg's. Why not? " 
 
 " I thought you had outgrown your youthful 
 follies." 
 
 " In which you are much mistaken." 
 
 " I shall have to tell Peggy." 
 
 " P e ggy was there at the same time." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " Don't jump at me that way, Paul. Please 
 remember how nervous and easily frightened I 
 am." Mr. Milltrum's smile just then was a fine 
 piece of work, and on the stage would have been 
 worth a gold mine. 
 
 " And you say Peggy was at Cranburg's ? " 
 
 Paul could not persuade himself that Mr. Mill- 
 trum was serious. 
 
 " I do, for I saw her, and what is more, she 
 went there with my consent." 
 
 " Mr. Milltrum, if any other man told me that 
 I would knock him down." 
 
 " Certainly ; so would I, provided he didn't
 
 180 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 happen to be stronger and bigger than I am. 
 There are times, Paul, when I hesitate to go into 
 the knocking down business." 
 
 " But what on earth induced Peggy to enter 
 such a place?" Never did a man's face more 
 perfectly express bewilderment than Paul Bed- 
 ford's at that moment. 
 
 " Well, after Bert Vernon told me of his ex- 
 perience in Cranburg's, and of Bothwell going 
 with him to Neumarck's, Bert told you the 
 whole story, which was plucky of him, I made 
 up my mind to investigate on my own account. 
 But I was puzzled and didn't just know how to go 
 about it. So I took Peggy into my confidence, 
 hoping that her woman's wit might help me out. 
 And it did, Paul. My stars, who but a woman, 
 and such a woman as Peggy, would ever have 
 thought of such a scheme ! Don't hurry me, Paul. 
 I won't be hurried. Count yourself lucky in being 
 told the story and not have to work it out as I had. 
 Well, I suggested to Peggy that it would be a 
 good thing if Bert Vernon could bring some 
 evening to Cranburg's a young ' innocent,' and 
 turn him loose to see, you know, what Bothwell 
 would do with him. She thought the idea a 
 capital one, and wrote to Bert Vernon that same 
 evening. Bert came to the house when I was 
 out, but she arranged everything with him, and 
 he promised to bring up a young friend of his, 
 a dapper little Englishman, whom he had met
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM 181 
 
 the last time he was in London. Peggy said 
 she would drill him in his part, and give him 
 a code of signals, which Bert Vernon would 
 understand. Peggy, you know, had stage fever 
 at one time, went in for the dramatics, took les- 
 sons down here on Union Square, and for a 
 time cut up all sorts of capers. I really thought 
 one while she would go on the stage, and I de- 
 clare I wouldn't have blamed her, for she had 
 the stuff to make a big success of it. All this is 
 news to you, I can tell by your face, but it is 
 true, nevertheless. It was arranged by Peggy 
 that I was to meet the little Englishman at Cran- 
 burg's, for if I went with him, it might be sus- 
 pected that he belonged to our party. When I 
 went in Bert Vernon introduced me to as spruce 
 a specimen of bandbox nobility as I ever saw. 
 He had the Dundreary lisp, the Chamberlain eye- 
 glass, and all the * haw aw yaw ' tomfooleries one 
 could desire. Bothwell came along as I was 
 speaking to Lord Poldrum, as Bert called the 
 Englishman, and said he was surprised to see 
 me, but laughed in that way he has, and suggested 
 what he called a friendly little game. 
 
 " Bert proposed, instead, taking me to see some 
 pictures, which were in another room, so we 
 went off, leaving the little lord with Bothwell. 
 We were gone nearly half an hour, and when 
 we came back Lord Bandbox was playing one of 
 the stiffest games I ever saw. He lost money
 
 182 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 in handfuls, and when his cash was gone, gave 
 paper, just as Peggy had arranged. I then saw 
 Bothwell make a sign to the cashier, after which 
 he whispered something to Bert Vernon. Bert 
 nodded, so the game went on, the Englishman 
 having a run of awful poor luck. Finally, Lord 
 Bandbox stopped, and intimated to Bert that he 
 would have to cable next day for money. Both- 
 well then smiled at Bert, Bert at the little lord, 
 and it was arranged that Neumarck should tide 
 over the Englishman's troubles. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Paul Bedford, you will probably 
 think that I am half blind, three-quarters deaf, 
 and four-fourths hopelessly stupid, but that little 
 English lord was Peggy! Yes, Peggy! My 
 soul, how she has laughed at me since! Why 
 didn't I recognize her ? Because her own mother, 
 one of the smartest women I ever knew, wouldn't 
 have recognized her. Yes, you laugh, and think 
 it was a great joke on a doting old man, but just 
 remember that Bothwell was fooled a hundred 
 times more than I was! I'd give half of the 
 profits of G. S. & W. to be able to stage that 
 scene in Cranburg's. Paul, I tell you it was the 
 funniest thing I ever saw. There was I, hob- 
 nobbing, as I imagined, with a real lord. And 
 it was ' My lord, may I get you this,' and ' My 
 lord, may I have the pleasure/ and think of it 
 being Peggy all the while! You haven't been 
 to the house since. No, of course not, as you
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM 183 
 
 only returned to the city yesterday. Bert Vernon 
 will probably give you his version with imita- 
 tions and variations. Well, I have nothing to 
 say. I know when the joke is on me. But think 
 of Peggy being able to fool Bothwell ! My lord ! 
 and my Peggy ! Isn't it a good one, Paul ? " 
 
 Mr. Milltrum laughed until it seemed as if he 
 would go to pieces, but, though he choked and 
 coughed and nearly strangled, he kept it up, and 
 finally started Paul, so that he forgot his moodi- 
 ness and anxiety, and laughed more heartily than 
 he had done for years. 
 
 . " No question about it now," Mr. Milltrum 
 said, after a time, " Bothwell is in league with 
 Cranburg; thanks to Peggy, we have discovered 
 that." 
 
 " He is also in league with Mr. Saxby," Paul 
 replied, " and perhaps Peggy may help us in that, 
 also." 
 
 It was now comparatively late, and after a few 
 more suggestions relative to G. S. & W. Mr. 
 Milltrum left the Holland House for the home 
 of his nieces on Madison Avenue. 
 
 Instead of going to his room, Paul sent a long 
 telegram to Mr. Saxby at Pelham. It was a 
 strangely worded telegram, unlike the simple, 
 direct messages which he usually wrote. Mr. 
 Saxby was in his library when the telegram ar- 
 rived, and with him were Mr, Bothwell and Mr. 
 Crewe.
 
 184 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mr. Saxby opened the telegram carelessly, for 
 he was listening intently to Mr. Bothwell, who 
 was then saying: 
 
 " We can block it, Mr. Saxby. They can't 
 get one-quarter of the stock. Of that I am posi- 
 tive. So there is an opportunity to force them 
 to the wall." 
 
 Then Mr. Saxby read the telegram, and as 
 he did so a perplexed look came over his face, 
 something not common with him, for he usually 
 knew what he intended doing one way or the 
 other. 
 
 " Are you certain, Mr. Bothwell ? This is a 
 serious matter. A slip or a misstep is as bad as 
 a fall. To throw down the glove in this instance 
 means more than some may imagine." 
 
 'Mr. Crewe was the speaker, and he meant well, 
 but he was unfortunate in hinting at the gravity 
 of a struggle with Milltrum Bros. For this only 
 excited Mr. Saxby's anger, and when a man is 
 angry his judgment is beclouded and his reason 
 unsteady. 
 
 " What is your opinion of this ? " he asked, 
 handing to Bothwell Paul Bedford's telegram. 
 
 " Just what I have been saying all along," he 
 said, exultingly, as he read the message. " You 
 have them now at your mercy. And this will 
 be a good time to settle old scores." 
 
 There was no perplexity on Mr. Bothwell's 
 face, nor indecision of any sort. Already he was
 
 SAXBY VERSUS MILLTRUM 185 
 
 gloating over the terrible fall of his hated rival, 
 and the bankruptcy of the once powerful Mill- 
 trum Bros. 
 
 " And what is your opinion, Mr. Crewe ? " 
 
 " Exactly the opposite of Mr. Bothwell's. 
 I know Paul Bedford. That telegram is no 
 * squeal.' I regard it as a friendly warning, and 
 if my advice is asked, I am prepared to give it," 
 and Mr. Crewe handed the telegram back to Mr. 
 Saxby. 
 
 Here again Mr. Crewe blundered, by suggest- 
 ing that the house of Saxby & Co. should permit 
 a warning under any circumstances. Was it not 
 strong enough to fight its own battles? Had 
 things come to such a pass that a rival house, 
 in sheer pity, must send it a warning telegram, 
 and thus save it from loss? The idea of such 
 a thing was simply maddening to Mr. Saxby, 
 so he took Paul Bedford's telegram from the 
 table, tore it into fragments, and resumed with 
 Mr. Bothwell the conversation which had been 
 interrupted. 
 
 " I am very much obliged, but I cannot possi- 
 bly stay all night," Mr. Crewe said, when politely 
 asked by Mr. Saxby to remain. Under ordinary 
 circumstances, Mr. Saxby would have so insisted 
 that Mr. Crewe could not have declined without 
 giving offence, but Mr. Crewe had offended Mr. 
 Saxby; he had counselled accepting an olive- 
 branch from Milltrum Bros., and so was allowed
 
 186 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 to leave the Saxby mansion with merely formal 
 regrets. But Mr. Crewe did a singular thing 
 when he went to New York, for, instead of going 
 home, he drove straight to the Holland House, 
 and though past midnight, he insisted on having 
 his card sent up to Paul Bedford's room. And 
 then he did a yet stranger thing, for he not only 
 went to Paul's room, remaining there for nearly 
 an hour, but, on coming down, he wrote at least 
 a score of telegrams, taking them to a Western 
 Union office near by, where they were sent off 
 instantly. One of these messages was to his own 
 home, saying that business would detain him in 
 the city overnight, but it did not say he was 
 staying at the Holland House as Paul Bedford's 
 guest. 
 
 This, however, was the case.
 
 V. 
 
 EAVESDROPPING 
 
 'N the evening to which Paul Bedford re- 
 ferred in his conversation with Mr. Milltrum, 
 when he spoke of having talked over G. S. & W. 
 matters at the house of the Misses Milltrum, 
 Judith Carreau pleaded a severe headache as an 
 excuse for retiring to her room soon after dinner. 
 And, judging by appearances, Miss Carreau was 
 justified in her request. Her face had a flushed, 
 feverish look ; her eyes drooped wearily as though 
 affected by the light, and she had a tense, drawn 
 expression, like one struggling with severe pain. 
 Usually when Mr. Milltrum and Paul came to 
 dinner she shared generously in the conversation, 
 sometimes with a sparkle and vivacity that were 
 irresistible. Adopting the language of the home, 
 she addressed Mr. Milltrum as " Uncle Lewis," 
 a title to which he responded with affectionate 
 interest; and now that her kinship with Paul 
 Bedford was established and understood, she 
 rarely hesitated to speak of him as " Cousin 
 Paul," a familiarity of which he gladly availed 
 187
 
 188 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 himself. But on this particular evening Judith 
 was very quiet, hardly speaking except in answer 
 to some direct question, and then in the briefest 
 possible way. Once or twice, when Paul looked 
 anxiously at her, she turned aside so as to avoid 
 his glance, and when Mr. Milltrum spoke to her, 
 even more kindly than usual, her lips trembled, 
 and tears came to her eyes. 
 
 " I don't know what has come over Judith 
 for the last few days," Miss Milltrum said to 
 Maud, as they went up-stairs to prepare for a 
 reception at the" Savoy. " She isn't at all like 
 herself. Of course you have noticed it ? " 
 
 " Yes, she is nervous, easily disturbed, will 
 start and appear frightened without any apparent 
 cause, but I'm not surprised, Peggy." 
 
 "What, then, is the trouble?" 
 
 By this time the ladies had reached Miss Mill- 
 trum's sitting-room, the door of which Maud shut 
 as she went in. 
 
 " Too much B., Peggy, too much B." 
 
 " You don't mean that Paul Bedford and Mr. 
 Bothwell are " 
 
 " That is just what I mean. Before Paul came, 
 when Mr. Bothwell had everything his own way, 
 Judith seemed content to let matters take their 
 course. But now she is undecided. From our 
 standpoint, there is no comparison whatever be- 
 tween the two men. Paul is a splendid fellow, 
 with more manhood in his little finger than Mr.
 
 EAVESDROPPING 189 
 
 Bothwell has in his whole body ten times over. 
 But love, they say, is blind. And it must be blind 
 as a bat, and with no more sense than a gosling 
 just out of its shell. Most of the marriages I 
 see remind me of blind man's buff, only that two 
 are blinded instead of one." 
 
 " But Paul hasn't shown any special attention 
 to Judith, at least, not enough to justify her 
 in " 
 
 " Falling in love with him ? I didn't say she 
 had. But she has come to the point of measur- 
 ing one against the other." 
 
 " Then she is not in love with Mr. Bothwell, 
 for love, at least the love that we read of, and 
 which I suppose is the genuine thing, doesn't 
 enter into calculations, and check off balances 
 after the fashion of a bank clerk." 
 
 " I didn't say, Peggy, that she was in love 
 with Mr. Bothwell. I merely said she had reached 
 the point of comparison, in which one B was 
 contrasted with the other B. One thing, how- 
 ever, Mr. Bothwell has in some way acquired 
 a strong influence over Judith, for which I am 
 very sorry." 
 
 " Singular how such a man can obtain a foot- 
 ing in New York. No one seems to know 
 anything about him. He reminds me at times 
 of Monte-Cristo. Over at the ' Sembrada,' 
 where his apartments are, not a soul has the 
 slightest acquaintance with him. You know what
 
 190 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 a bright, keen-witted woman Mrs. Ibstone is, 
 sharp as a needle and deliciously assurant; one 
 who rarely gives up without gaining her point. 
 Well, though she lives at the ' Sembrada/ and, 
 in her way, has made every possible effort to reach 
 Mr. Bothwell, she hasn't been able to do it. He 
 comes and goes most mysteriously, sometimes 
 taking as many trunks as a woman going to 
 Newport for the season, then again having only 
 a hand-bag, like a man going off merely for the 
 night. All that Bert Vernon knows is what he 
 told uncle. There is something very strange 
 about the whole business." 
 
 " Has it ever occurred to you that Judith may 
 have met Mr. Bothwell before she came to New 
 York?" 
 
 Maud looked keenly at her sister as she asked 
 this question. Miss Milltrum paused a moment 
 or two before replying, then she said : 
 
 " I have had that feeling at times, but it seemed 
 so improbable that I dismissed it." 
 
 " Why is it improbable ? Mr. Bothwell is in 
 the shipping business, his trade, according to 
 Bert Vernon, being largely with the South. Mr. 
 Carreau was also in the shipping business, and 
 from what Judith says, was mostly connected 
 with the North. Why, then, might they not have 
 met? I am certain, Peggy, that Judith and Mr. 
 Bothwell are not such strangers as they pretend
 
 EAVESDROPPING 191 
 
 to be. And the influence he has over her may 
 result from their acquaintance in New Or- 
 leans." 
 
 " She has no suspicion of my visit to Cran- 
 burg's?" 
 
 " Not the slightest." 
 
 " I wish there was some way of letting her 
 know that we suspect Mr. Bothwell of being in 
 league with Cranburg." 
 
 " Unless we have more than suspicions, it is 
 better to wait. We have really no business with 
 her affairs. Uncle Lewis is only her nominal 
 guardian. She is our guest, nothing more, and 
 owes us neither duty nor obedience." 
 
 " That is true," Miss Milltrum said, rising 
 from her chair, and going to her dressing- 
 room, Maud doing the same. Soon after, they 
 were in the carriage on their way to the " Sa- 
 voy." 
 
 When they had gone, Mr. Milltrum suggested 
 to Paul an adjournment to the library, the large 
 table there affording space for some maps he 
 was anxious to consult. So they went to the 
 library, Paul drawing the heavy portiere across 
 the doorway, Mr. Milltrum, meanwhile, unrolling 
 several maps, and spreading them out. Hardly 
 had they begun on what promised to be a serious 
 business before a door was softly opened on the 
 floor above, then a woman crept stealthily down 
 the stairs, finally reaching the hall just outside
 
 192 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the library door. It was Judith! And she was 
 playing the part of eavesdropper, listening ea- 
 gerly to every word, . and once or twice making 
 notes on a tablet, which she held in her hand! 
 As the servants were all down-stairs, and it was 
 known that the Misses Milltrum had gone out 
 for the evening, Judith was not afraid of inter- 
 ruption or discovery, so she almost touched the 
 heavy portieres, and even went so far as to peer 
 in between the curtain and the door-frame. Hav- 
 ing no cause to suspect listeners, Mr. Milltrum 
 and Paul spoke freely to each other, Mr. Mill- 
 trum, at times, raising his voice much higher 
 than was necessary. But whenever he discussed 
 G. S. & W. with Paul, he invariably waxed elo- 
 quent. And eloquence is something which will 
 not be restrained in whispers. He therefore 
 spoke with considerable vehemence, warming up 
 to it as the various advantages of the big rail- 
 road combination presented themselves. Paul 
 was less demonstrative than Mr. Milltrum, still 
 there was a light in his eye and a flush on his 
 face, which betrayed something of the excitement 
 he felt. After a time the maps were rolled up 
 and put away in their covers, and the conversa- 
 tion drifted into other channels. Then Judith 
 crept up-stairs as noiselessly as she had come 
 down, and, on reaching her room, went to her 
 desk and wrote:
 
 EAVESDROPPING 193 
 
 " DEAR GERALD : Meet me to-morrow at the 
 usual place. I have something to tell you. 
 
 " JUDITH." 
 
 Having 1 sealed and directed the envelope, she 
 took the letter to the mail-bag in the hall, then, 
 returning to her room, lay down on the lounge, 
 where the Misses Milltrum found her on their 
 return from the " Savoy." 
 
 The next day she seemed much better, and 
 in the early afternoon went for a short walk 
 in the park. If any one had followed her, she 
 would have been seen to walk rapidly along the 
 Mall, pass under the bridge, and hasten towards 
 the lake. Then Mr. Bothwell might have been 
 seen walking from the lake, meeting her before 
 she had reached the bottom of the stone steps. 
 To follow them any farther would be useless, 
 for their voices were so low that no one, how- 
 ever anxious, could catch a word they said. 
 When their conversation ended, Judith returned 
 to the Milltrums', accompanied by Mr. Bothwell, 
 who afterwards hastened down-town to Mr. 
 Saxby's office, where he remained for some 
 time. 
 
 These mysterious circumstances may help to 
 explain what had puzzled Paul Bedford, how 
 Mr. Bothwell heard of the proposed G. S. & W. 
 deal.
 
 194 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mr. Saxby, on the morning after his consul- 
 tation with Mr. Both-well, determined to throw 
 his whole strength against G. S. & W., confident 
 that before the Stock Exchange closed he would 
 achieve the most brilliant victory of his life. To 
 this end he was at his office unusually early, that 
 he might arrange his forces, and prepare for the 
 battle which was at hand. Unfortunately, he had 
 not said anything to Mr. Crewe of his intentions, 
 and as the safes were all set by time locks, he 
 could not do much with the extra hour at his 
 disposal. So he fumed and fretted and worked 
 himself up into a high state of irritation, the 
 very worst thing under the circumstances. If 
 a man is going to fight a duel, his arm will be 
 unsteady, his eye blurred, his aim wild, should 
 he be so foolish as to sit up half the night writ- 
 ing farewell letters, and waste the other half in 
 eager, feverish desire to meet the one who has 
 challenged him. That was exactly Mr. Saxby's 
 condition. So he kept looking at the clock in 
 his private office, then at his watch, then at the 
 door, wondering if Mr. Crewe intended to come 
 at all. Finally he came, though not the suave, 
 confident Mr. Crewe of yesterday, but an anx- 
 ious, careworn man, who looked as though the 
 night had been one of serious toil. Mr. Saxby 
 misconstrued these signs, and, remembering that 
 Mr. Crewe had declined his invitation to remain 
 at Pelham, concluded that the night had been
 
 EAVESDROPPING 195 
 
 spent in a way not uncommon with Wall Street 
 men who have more money than sense. 
 
 " You are late, Mr. Crewe," he said, sharply. 
 
 Mr. Crewe looked at the clock, but made no 
 reply. 
 
 " I have been here nearly an hour," Mr. Saxby 
 said, even more sharply, " but it has not done me 
 any good. On such a morning as this, sir, no 
 one should wait for ordinary office hours. Have 
 you forgotten, Mr. Crewe, the matters of which 
 we were speaking last evening? " 
 
 " No, sir ! " The tone was respectful, but 
 nothing more. Mr. Crewe had occasional mo- 
 ments when the Declaration of Independence 
 meant something more than a musty old parch- 
 ment. 
 
 " My affairs are evidently of less importance 
 than other matters," Mr. Saxby said, looking 
 angrily at Mr. Crewe. 
 
 Just then the Declaration of Independence 
 rustled in the soul of Mr. Crewe. And he felt 
 it. So with a flash of fire from his eyes, and a 
 flush of indignation on his cheeks, he said : 
 
 " Mr. Saxby, please accept my resignation, to 
 take effect at your earliest convenience." 
 
 This was surely a bad beginning for the day's 
 battle. Mr. Crewe was a host in himself, and 
 if it were known that he had withdrawn from 
 the firm of Saxby & Co., the results might be 
 serious. Mr. Saxby knew this. But those whom
 
 196 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the gods would destroy they first make mad. 
 Evidently, they wanted to destroy Mr. Saxby, 
 for he was mad enough to do anything. With- 
 out, therefore, abating anything of his curt, 
 sharp tone, increasing it rather, he said: 
 
 " Your resignation is accepted, sir, and to take 
 effect now." 
 
 Without another word, Mr. Crewe went out 
 from Mr. Saxby's private office into the one he 
 had occupied for several years. There he took 
 from his pocket a number of telegrams, and put 
 them on his desk, together with some papers 
 marked private. 
 
 " I am going out for a few minutes," he said 
 to one of the clerks ; " if I am not back in a quar- 
 ter of an hour, give these telegrams and papers 
 to Mr. Saxby, or if he asks for them, say they 
 are on my desk." Mr. Crewe then went out, no 
 one suspecting anything of what had taken place. 
 
 He had not been gone five minutes before Mr. 
 Saxby made inquiries regarding the telegrams 
 and papers of which Mr. Crewe had spoken, and 
 they were instantly brought to him. Then fol- 
 lowed about as bad an hour as Mr. Saxby ever 
 had. Usually, a superb master of himself, and 
 able to meet losses without showing a sign, in 
 this instance the defeat was so overwhelming 
 that he would have been more than human had 
 he not felt it bitterly. The first telegram that 
 he read they had all been opened by Mr. Crewe,
 
 EAVESDROPPING 197 
 
 and were answers to messages he had sent the 
 night before was from a leading firm in Bos- 
 ton, one on whose support Mr. Saxby had con- 
 fidently relied. It was simple, but decisive. 
 
 " We are pledged to Milltrum Bros., and favor 
 the scheme." 
 
 Another was from Philadelphia, and said prac- 
 tically the same thing. One, still more important, 
 came from Baltimore, and so on down the list. 
 Then he remembered Paul Bedford's message, 
 and the warning it conveyed. And he also 
 remembered the instructions given to his brokers 
 in the heat and excitement of the night before. 
 Looking at the clock, he saw that the Stock Ex- 
 change would open in ten minutes, and unless 
 his orders were countermanded, the firm of Saxby 
 & Co. would be bankrupt before the day ended. 
 
 There was no time to lose. Every minute was 
 priceless. Before this his brokers had started 
 for the Exchange, eager to execute his commis- 
 sions. But there was no Mr. Crewe, ready for 
 the push and jostle of the Exchange floor. He 
 must therefore go himself. It was of the utmost 
 importance that not even one order be carried 
 out. So he rushed out of the office, almost ran 
 to Wall Street, and got to the Exchange just 
 in time to save himself from utter ruin. Already 
 there were whisperings of G. S. & W. And 
 somehow it had become known that he opposed 
 the scheme. This meant a fight between Mill-
 
 198 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 trum Bros, and Saxby & Co. As to the outcome 
 of that fight, Wall Street had no doubts. And 
 many would have been glad. Mr. Saxby had 
 few friends. Haughty, imperious, often remorse- 
 less, he had aroused deep hatred in many places. 
 But to the surprise of almost every one, Mr. 
 Saxby, who not once a year appeared in Wall 
 Street, was seen on the Stock Exchange floor, 
 and the reason was soon apparent. G. S. & W. 
 carried everything before it. There was hardly 
 even a ripple of opposition. Milltrum Bros, 
 easily acquired all the stock they cared for. Lack- 
 ing the support of the Saxby interests, the stock 
 rapidly fell from its opening price, and before 
 an hour had gone Mr. Milltrum knew that the 
 dream of his life had become a reality. 
 
 But what a day that was for Mr. Saxby ! The 
 bitter, humiliating fact that he was not penniless 
 only because of the kindness of Paul Bedford 
 was worse than poison in his blood.
 
 M, 
 
 VI. 
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 
 
 .R. SAXBY'S defeat, though galling to the 
 point of desperation, did not involve him finan- 
 cially. Thanks to Paul Bedford's generous treat- 
 ment of Mr. Crewe, and his frankness in allowing 
 him to learn how completely Milltrum Bros, 
 controlled the situation, Mr. Saxby was saved 
 from what would have been utter ruin. But Mr. 
 Bothwell did not escape so easily. Confident 
 that he had Milltrum Bros, at a serious disad- 
 vantage, and positive that through Judith he 
 had secured a secret of priceless value, he bought 
 largely of such stocks as were essential to the 
 new scheme. Having private ways of reaching 
 Mr. Neumarck, he prevailed upon that astute 
 gentleman to take his notes for large amounts, 
 then hastened to certain brokers, who promptly 
 accepted his commissions. So satisfied was he 
 as to the turn of affairs that he bought every- 
 thing on narrow margins, nor did he trouble 
 about a reserve in case the market might weaken 
 
 199
 
 200 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 or decline. Impatient for the opening of the 
 battle, one of such importance to him, and on 
 which he had staked so much, he went to the 
 Stock Exchange early, and, having secured a 
 good place in the gallery, eagerly waited for 
 business to begin. 
 
 Looking down, he saw Mr. Saxby on the floor 
 talking earnestly with a knot of brokers in one 
 corner of the room ; he then rapidly walked over 
 to another corner where he whispered excitedly to 
 three or four men who seemed surprised at what 
 he said. But Mr. Bothwell only smiled. He was 
 confident that Mr. Saxby had come to carry out 
 in person the plans arranged so carefully the 
 night before. How slowly the hands of the big 
 clock moved! Would the time never come for 
 opening? Ah! now the officers are taking their 
 places. In another minute the hand will touch 
 the gong ; but what a long time it seemed ! Now ! 
 But what was this? Mr. Saxby had gone! His 
 brokers were silent only a little sputtering of 
 opposition, harmless as the throwing of corn- 
 balls at an alligator, or bombarding Gibraltar 
 with bean-blowers! 
 
 Down went the stocks in which Mr. Bothwell 
 had invested his all, and much more. With ears 
 strained to unnatural acuteness, he heard call after 
 call, each one lower than the other, and in less 
 than ten minutes he knew that his margins were 
 exhausted, and that his stocks must be surren-
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 201 
 
 dered. Pale as death he stood. He looked down 
 upon the floor as one in a dream. It seemed 
 impossible that such a thing could happen. Noth- 
 ing, seemingly, was more certain. Mr. Saxby 
 must have been false to him. If not, why this 
 utter failure of all their plans? He would go 
 to Mr. Saxby's office, and demand an explana- 
 tion. He would demand more, he would compel 
 the arch traitor to make good what had been 
 lost through his treachery. And if he refused, 
 then 
 
 Hastily making his way from the Stock Ex- 
 change gallery, he went to Mr. Saxby's office, 
 where he had been a frequent visitor of late. 
 The clerks, therefore, felt no surprise as he walked 
 into the inner office, without first inquiring if 
 Mr. Saxby would see him. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this ? " he asked, 
 excitedly, looking at Mr. Saxby, his eyes blaz- 
 ing with anger. 
 
 Mr. Saxby turned upon him a face even more 
 furious than his own. It was at Mr. Bothwell's 
 suggestion that he had formed the combination to 
 oppose G. S. & W. scheme, having first learned 
 from him what Milltrum Bros, intended. And 
 now to have his opposition go down like card- 
 board forts before a battery of heavy guns, every- 
 thing swept away at the first shot, was to Mr. 
 Saxby simply maddening. 
 
 The whole thing seemed ridiculous. Never
 
 before had he been so treated. Milltrum Bros, 
 could well laugh at the part he had played. For 
 all this he blamed Mr. Bothwell, and determined, 
 at the first opportunity, to have revenge. 
 
 " You mean your attempt to entrap me ? You 
 have come, I suppose, with a plausible explana- 
 tion. It is not necessary. I do not care to hear 
 it. My time is too valuable to waste it in that 
 fashion. You thought to trick me, but failed." 
 Mr. Saxby's voice had an edge so keen that even 
 its whisper cut as the point of a lancet. 
 
 " You are a damned old scoundrel," Mr. Both- 
 well said, hoarsely, coming over to Mr. Saxby, 
 and shaking his fist at him ; " how dare you say 
 such things to me after what you have done this 
 morning? You are a traitor, sir. You sold me 
 out. You went back on your agreement. You 
 stood by and saw me robbed. But I am not 
 going to lose my money, not if I have to swing 
 for it. So pay up. Out of this office I don't 
 go until you make good all I have lost." 
 
 " So that is your game. But I'm not sur- 
 prised. The man who is such an idiot as to 
 follow your lead in anything may surely be 
 expected to stop at nothing. We don't, how- 
 ever, pay blackmail in this office, Mr. Bothwell. 
 Your friends, the Milltrum Bros., will surely 
 compensate you for the service rendered. You 
 have, doubtless, an agreement with them." 
 
 The stinging contempt with which Mr. Saxby
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 203 
 
 spoke would have infuriated any one, much less 
 a man of the Bothwell type. Without a thought, 
 therefore, as to consequences, he caught Mr. 
 Saxby by the throat, and shook him with a 
 passion utterly reckless. But Mr. Saxby, though 
 twenty years older than Bothwell, had not lost 
 anything of his vigor. For the moment he was 
 at a disadvantage, but he broke away from 
 Both well's grasp, and in turn caught him with 
 arms of iron. 
 
 " You cowardly hound ! " he muttered, " you 
 sneaking, spying whelp! Your place is in State's 
 prison, and I will send you there." 
 
 When a man is wrestling for his life, and his an- 
 tagonist is more powerful than himself, he should 
 not waste any breath in threats. Mr. Saxby, 
 therefore, weakened himself by just so much. 
 Better far if he had called to the clerks in the 
 outer office. Pride and anger, however, pre- 
 vented his doing so. 
 
 If Mr. Crewe had been in his office he would 
 have heard the scuffle, but no one was now in 
 that room. And in great office buildings there 
 are so many noises opening and shutting of 
 doors, sliding of elevator gates, ringing of bells, 
 clicking of typewriters, tickers from the Stock 
 Exchange that it takes more than ordinary 
 commotion to arouse curiosity. So they fought 
 like two tigers, every moment adding to the anger 
 and bitterness of the struggle. But Mr. Saxby
 
 204 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 could not long continue the unequal conflict. 
 Though years bring experience, they do not bring 
 strength. And there are times when strength 
 is of more value than anything else. It certainly 
 was so in this instance, for Bothwell gradually 
 forced asunder the arms that were pinioning 
 him, then, drawing back, struck Mr. Saxby a 
 cruel blow in the face, which caused him to fall 
 helpless on the floor. Glancing at him as he 
 lay there with blood streaming from his mouth 
 and nose, Bothwell saw that he must make speedy 
 escape, for some of the clerks would soon be 
 coming in with telegrams and messages. But 
 why go out empty-handed? The private safe 
 was open. It surely contained some money. 
 That money Bothwell must have, for he was 
 now almost penniless. He sprang to the safe, 
 took out several packages of bills, stuffed them 
 into his pockets, then, jamming his hat down 
 on his head, and turning up his coat-collar so 
 as to hide all signs of the recent struggle, he 
 strode out of the office, walked rapidly down 
 the stairs, and was soon lost in the crowds 
 thronging the streets. In a few minutes he was 
 at Burling Slip, from which place he sent a 
 message to Yoba at the " Sembrada." It was 
 not a telegram that Yoba received, but a little 
 wooden box, containing three or four strips of 
 cardboard, but of different colors and numbers. 
 But this Yoba seemed to understand, for in a
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 205 
 
 few minutes he returned, and gave to the mes- 
 senger a large hand-bag. With all possible speed, 
 the messenger hastened back to Burling Slip, 
 and, ere long, Mr. Bothwell came out, but so 
 changed that the sharpest eyes could not have 
 detected him. He was dressed as on the night 
 he received a mysterious message at the " Sem- 
 brada," when he had on the rough clothing of 
 the master of a coasting vessel, and Yoba was 
 apparelled in the guise of a seaman. Strolling 
 leisurely along Front Street, he looked like a 
 down East skipper on his way to visit some 
 friends. Passing a mail-box, he dropped in a 
 letter, then going to the nearest " L " station, 
 went to Forty- Second Street, where he changed 
 for the Grand Central Depot. It was now almost 
 noon, but he had ample time to get the train 
 leaving for Boston. Entering the smoking-car, 
 he carelessly tossed his large hand-bag, on which 
 the letters V. P. were marked plainly, in the 
 corner at his feet, and lighting a strong, cheap- 
 looking cigar, seemed to be a veritable sea-cap- 
 tain on his way to Portland, or Bath, after a 
 rather tedious voyage from New Orleans. On 
 arriving in Boston, he concluded to spend the 
 night at the United States Hotel, where he regis- 
 tered as Vincent Perrin, and was given a room. 
 He remained indoors all evening, and most of 
 the next day, only going out to secure a state- 
 room on the Portland boat. A nasty, disagree-
 
 206 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 able day it was, and, having nothing special to 
 do, he went on board fully an hour before sail- 
 ing time. 
 
 " A bad night," he said to the purser, as he 
 stood at the little window where tickets were 
 bought and stateroom keys given out. 
 
 " One of the worst this season. But I don't 
 suppose you mind it much." The purser made 
 this remark after a glance at the passenger whose 
 name on the lists sent from the office was " Vin- 
 cent Perrin." 
 
 " Not specially. But the sail along the east 
 coast at this time of the year is always disagree- 
 able." 
 
 " If I had my way, I wouldn't put out to-night," 
 the purser said. 
 
 " Is it likely to be so bad as that? " 
 
 " It may let up a little before morning, but it 
 is snowing heavily, and there is more wind than 
 I care for. Still, we must obey orders." 
 
 " Sure," was the laconic reply, and the sup- 
 posed sea-captain moved away. 
 
 Soon after orders came from the main office 
 for the steamer to proceed as usual, and in due 
 time the clerk came for the passenger lists and 
 the cargo manifest, bringing in exchange the 
 papers for the Portland agent. To Bothwell's 
 annoyance, he found, when opening his bag, that 
 his fur cap had been forgotten at the hotel. 
 Looking at his watch, he saw that nearly half an
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 207 
 
 hour remained, and by hurrying he could get his 
 cap before the boat sailed. He started at once, 
 taking long strides, and walking rapidly, but 
 when within a few rods of the hotel he slipped 
 on the icy sidewalk and fell, striking his head 
 against the curbstone. Some passers-by went to 
 his assistance, but he was unconscious, and appar- 
 ently seriously hurt. A policeman summoned 
 an ambulance, and he was taken to the hospital, 
 where he remained in a stupor for several hours. 
 Meantime, the Portland boat was on its way, 
 but it never reached Portland, going down some- 
 time in the night, without leaving a single trace 
 of its presence, or a survivor to tell the terrible 
 story of disaster. 
 
 Soon after Bothwell left Mr. Saxby's office, 
 one of the clerks went in, where, to his amaze- 
 ment, he saw Mr. Saxby lying on the floor in 
 a pool of blood. Rushing into the passageway, 
 he shouted, "Help! Quick! Murder!" and in 
 an instant all of the other clerks hurried in. One, 
 more cool than the others, raised Mr. Saxby 
 from the floor, and then, assisted by the cashier, 
 placed him on the lounge. Another telephoned 
 to the nearest police-station, asking that a sur- 
 geon be sent at once, adding that murder had 
 been attempted. Just then Mr. Crewe came in, 
 his anger having died away, considerably 
 ashamed also of his foolish haste, and, seeing
 
 208 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 how matters were, he at once assumed charge 
 of affairs, giving his orders as at other times. 
 Soon the police were on hand, accompanied by 
 a police surgeon, who speedily made an examina- 
 tion, reporting that Mr. Saxby was not danger- 
 ously hurt, but would require care and quiet 
 for some time. 
 
 When Mr. Saxby became conscious, and able 
 to give a coherent account of what had taken 
 place, it was long past noon, so that Bothwell 
 had some hours in which to make his escape. 
 He seemed pleased at seeing Mr. Crewe, but 
 was so shaken and confused as to have slight 
 remembrance of their dispute of the morning. 
 When he so far recovered that he could recall 
 with tolerable distinctness Bothwell's demands, 
 he asked Mr. Crewe to see if anything had been 
 taken from the safe. As Mr. Crewe was aware 
 that several packages of bills were always held 
 in reserve by Mr. Saxby to meet any unexpected 
 demand after bank hours, he went to the com- 
 partment where they were kept. But they were 
 gone. Bothwell had made a clean sweep, taking 
 away what many men would regard as a fortune. 
 
 " The miserable thief," Mr. Saxby muttered. 
 " But it serves me right. However, he can't 
 be far away. Surely the police won't let such a 
 hound escape." 
 
 Later in the afternoon he got from Mr. Crewe 
 the story of the night before, and when he heard
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 209 
 
 that Paul Bedford gave him the names of the 
 firms to whom he had telegraphed, in each case 
 allowing the use of a code which would ensure 
 immediate reply, he realized that Paul had tried 
 to save him in every possible way. At the doc- 
 tor's urgent request, he concluded to remain all 
 night in his office, so Mr. Crewe telephoned to 
 Pelham, and before long Mrs. Saxby appeared, 
 bringing with her Doctor Barrington. 
 
 Miriam's death had wrought a great change 
 in Mrs. Saxby. She was no longer the proud, 
 imperious woman of former days. She was gen- 
 tle, tender, sympathetic, and her face was much 
 more winsome than when Paul Bedford first went 
 to Pelham. The room in which Miriam died 
 was a sanctuary to her. It remained exactly as 
 when occupied by Miriam. No guest, no matter 
 how favored, was given that room. No servant, 
 no matter how careful, was permitted to put 
 foot in that chamber. With her own hands, she 
 did whatever work that room required. 
 
 For hours she would sit in the chair where 
 Miriam sat during the weeks when she was bat- 
 tling with death, and her eyes would travel wist- 
 fully to the little cemetery where she so peacefully 
 slept. Mrs. Saxby could not forgive herself. 
 Her memory of Miriam's sufferings was terri- 
 bly vivid. Had there been any way of undoing 
 the past or making atonement, she would have 
 accepted it at whatever cost. Sometimes she
 
 210 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 felt like a murderess, and that Miriam's blood 
 stained her soul. 
 
 Having no outside interests to engage her 
 mind, caring nothing now for fashionable life, 
 indifferent to many things which formerly ab- 
 sorbed her, she was in danger of becoming hope- 
 lessly despondent, but, fortunately, her better 
 nature asserted itself, and she rallied from a 
 condition which caused Doctor Barrington the 
 gravest anxiety. Then, as the daughter some- 
 times lives out the incompleted life of her mother, 
 she resolved to live out the incompleted life of 
 her daughter, and each day tried to do as Miriam 
 would have done had she been here in the flesh. 
 So, strange as it may appear, out of Miriam's 
 death came Mrs. Saxby's life. The soul of the 
 daughter gave birth to the soul of the mother. 
 A new being, therefore, appeared in Pelham, and 
 the woman who had lost her life while Miriam 
 lived found her life when Miriam died. 
 
 Of course she determined to stay all night. 
 In vain Doctor Barrington pleaded with her to 
 return to Pelham, promising to do everything 
 possible for Mr. Saxby, even suggesting that her 
 presence in the office would only be a restraint. 
 In vain Mr. Saxby told her that, with Doctor 
 Barrington and Mr. Crewe to take care of him, 
 there was not the slightest necessity for her re- 
 maining. But her bonnet was off, her furs laid 
 aside; the maid who had accompanied her had
 
 VINCENT PERRIN 
 
 been sent out with an office-boy to a neighboring 
 restaurant, the telephone in the other office had 
 been called into service, and soon pillows, rugs, 
 comforters began to make their appearance; and 
 then later, the most appetizing things that a well- 
 furnished restaurant could send. Soon the deft, 
 dainty touch of the woman's hand had trans- 
 formed the hard, barren office into a cozy room, 
 and even Mr. Saxby smiled gratefully at the 
 change. 
 
 " Some one at the telephone wishes to speak 
 with you, ma'am," the office boy said, respect- 
 fully, as he looked at Mrs. Saxby, who was now 
 sitting beside the couch resting, while the maid 
 was arranging the table. She at once went to the 
 wire. 
 
 It was Paul Bedford, who had just heard of 
 Bothwell's murderous assault. Having telephoned 
 immediately to Pelham, and learned that Mrs. 
 Saxby had gone to New York, he now asked 
 for information. 
 
 " Certainly, Paul. Come at once. I am going 
 to stay all night. Mr. Saxby is resting com- 
 fortably, and will be very glad to see you." 
 
 Then Paul said something to which she lis- 
 tened smilingly, her face lighting up much as 
 Miriam's was wont to do when specially pleased. 
 
 " All right. We will wait for you. It is good 
 of you to come so promptly." 
 
 Then she went back to the inner office, and
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 told the maid to arrange for another place, as 
 Mr. Bedford would arrive in a few minutes. 
 
 And come he did, receiving a far more cordial 
 welcome than Mr. Saxby had ever given him 
 before. When he left, two hours later, Mrs. 
 Saxby went with him along the passageway, 
 where he lovingly kissed her, the first kiss his 
 lips had given since Miriam's eyes had closed in 
 dreamless sleep.
 
 VII. 
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 
 
 O 
 
 F course the assault on Mr. Saxby was dis- 
 cussed at the Milltrum dinner-table that evening, 
 for it was in the afternoon paper, set forth with 
 all the skill and sensational genius known to 
 metropolitan journalism. The Milltrums were 
 under no restraint in speaking of the matter, 
 for Miss Carreau, soon after lunch, went to her 
 room, saying she was not well, and begged to 
 be excused from coming down to dinner. As 
 no hint of the trouble had come to the house 
 until after she had gone up-stairs, naturally she 
 was not supposed to know anything of what had 
 taken place. The Misses Milltrum, having been 
 down-town all morning, were not aware that 
 just before noon a special messenger brought a 
 bulky letter to Miss Carreau, which she opened 
 in the quiet of her own room. What that letter 
 contained, or how far it related to Mr. Bothwell, 
 Miss Carreau did not state. 
 
 " I always knew he was an infernal rascal. 
 How Judith ever tolerated him is more than I 
 213
 
 214 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 can tell. Good Lord! To think that such a 
 scoundrel should have sat at this table and min- 
 gled with our guests! It is enough to make a 
 saint swear." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum had been sputtering about Both- 
 well for some time, and now, as he sipped his 
 coffee, he broke out afresh. 
 
 " I didn't know that Mr. Bothwell had any 
 business dealings with Mr. Saxby," Miss Mill- 
 trum observed, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Neither had he until recently. In some way, 
 goodness only knows how, Bothwell learned of 
 my G. S. & W. scheme, and worked Mr. Saxby 
 in with him. Only for Paul Bedford's wonder- 
 ful management, the whole business might have 
 been blocked." 
 
 " But, Uncle Lewis, I thought, from what 
 you said, that no one knew anything of your 
 plans outside of Paul and yourself." It was 
 Maud who spoke, fixing her clear, sharp eyes 
 on Mr. Milltrum. 
 
 " Until one night, when I discussed the matter 
 with Paul in this room, the subject was not even 
 mentioned to a soul in New York, and yet within 
 twenty-four hours, as we learned afterward, 
 Bothwell was talking it over with Mr. Saxby." 
 
 " I wonder what night that was," Miss Mill- 
 trum remarked, her face having a perplexed 
 look. 
 
 " No need to wonder, Peggy. Paul came up
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 215 
 
 specially, as you and Maud were going out some- 
 where, to the Savoy I think, and we came in here, 
 using this table for our maps." 
 
 Just why Maud's eyes sought those of Miss 
 Milltrum, or Miss Milltrum's eyes sought those 
 of Maud, when Mr. Milltrum recalled the even- 
 ing referred to, is a matter which must be left 
 to explain itself. Perhaps they remembered that 
 Judith was at home on the evening in question, 
 and that, when she returned from her afternoon 
 walk the following day, Mr. Bothwell accom- 
 panied her to the door. 
 
 Later in the evening Paul Bedford came up, 
 bringing the latest news from Mr. Saxby, stat- 
 ing that, in addition to Bothwell's murderous 
 assault, he had stolen a large sum of money from 
 the private safe, and that a general police alarm 
 had been sent out. 
 
 Little time was lost in sending out this alarm. 
 Messages from police headquarters flashed to the 
 railroad stations in Brooklyn and Jersey City, 
 and the detectives at the Grand Central. Tele- 
 grams also were sent to every large city, and 
 any passenger who resembled Bothwell was care- 
 fully shadowed. A man was stationed not far 
 from the Sembrada, and another near the office 
 on Burling Slip. A rigorous search of Mr. 
 Bothwell's apartments was made, and Yoba ques- 
 tioned in every possible way. Never did an 
 officer have a more unsatisfactory task than the
 
 216 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 examination of Yoba, whose smiles, nods, and 
 head-shakes only added one mystery to another. 
 
 The officer swore several times, causing Yoba 
 much merriment. Then he suggested, in very 
 definite language, that Yoba was a fool of sur- 
 passing magnitude. At this, Yoba's eyes twin- 
 kled with pleasure. 
 
 " What kind of a creature is he ? " the officer 
 asked, helplessly, turning to the Sembrada stew- 
 ard, who had accompanied him to Mr. Bothwell's 
 apartment. 
 
 The steward only shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " He's the queerest specimen I ever came 
 across," the officer said, looking at Yoba from 
 head to foot. 
 
 " Do you understand English ? " he shouted, 
 impatiently. 
 
 Yoba's face had the seraphic, intelligent expres- 
 sion of an Alaska totem. 
 
 " When was Mr. Bothwell here ? " 
 
 The totem smiled. 
 
 " Is he coming back to-night ? " 
 
 The totem smiled again. 
 
 " Was he here this morning? " 
 
 Another smile from the totem. 
 
 " Perhaps you can do something with him, 
 Tom," the officer said, despairingly, turning to 
 his associate. 
 
 But Tom did no better. In fact, he did not 
 do as well. For, under his stern appeals, Yoba
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 217 
 
 only grinned, the situation evidently being to him 
 one of rare enjoyment. But the officer was de- 
 termined to find some way to reach Yoba, and 
 at length thought of writing his questions. So 
 he got a large tablet and pencil and wrote la- 
 boriously : 
 
 " When did Mr. Bothwell say he would re- 
 turn?" 
 
 Then he handed the tablet to Yoba, expecting 
 him to write an answer, instead of which the 
 dwarf took the tablet and pencil and placed them 
 on a large card-receiver, as he was wont to do 
 with messages intended for Mr. Bothwell. 
 
 " Don't waste any more time on that idiot ; 
 it only sets him grinning like an ape. Holy 
 Moses, what a face he has ! " the first officer 
 said, a remark which must have pleased Yoba 
 immensely, judging by the magnitude of his 
 smile. 
 
 But when the officers attempted to search the 
 apartment, they found Yoba even more difficult 
 to manage. They showed their badges and 
 threatened all manner of things, causing Yoba's 
 mouth to expand clear across his face; but over 
 the threshold they were not allowed to pass, 
 until the steward made a series of signs more or 
 less intelligible. Then he let them in, but Both- 
 well was not there. 
 
 At Burling Slip there was not the same dif- 
 ficulty, the man in charge of the office opening at
 
 218 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 once to the police, and readily answering their 
 questions. 
 
 " No, he had not been there that day." 
 " He was not connected with the business." 
 " This was a tug and towage company." 
 " It was Mr. Bothwell's father who estab- 
 lished the company, which accounted for the 
 name." 
 
 " Mr. Bothwell gets mail here sometimes." 
 " I said he wasn't here to-day." 
 " He hasn't been here for a week." 
 " Certainly, come right in. We occupy this 
 floor." 
 
 The detectives went in, but had only their 
 trouble for their pains. 
 
 But there are some men on the New York 
 police force who are not easily baffled, and who 
 will follow up the slightest clue with the instinct 
 of a bloodhound. Hence Mr. Bothwell was 
 traced to Boston, then to the hotel where he spent 
 the night, the fur cap left there helping to com- 
 plete the identification. It was a simple matter 
 to follow him to the Portland boat, for the name 
 under which he registered at the hotel was on the 
 passenger list. And as though all the proofs 
 were not sufficient, the steamboat company's 
 clerk, who went down to the wharf on that ill- 
 fated evening, distinctly remembered such a man 
 as the detectives described, standing near the 
 purser's office. That ended the investigation.
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 219 
 
 No need for further replies. Bothwell was most 
 assuredly a passenger on the Portland boat that 
 night, when the steamer foundered with all on 
 board. These facts were duly set forth in the 
 New York papers, and after a day or two the 
 Bothwell-Saxby incident gave way to matters of 
 more importance. 
 
 Judith Carreau followed the proceedings with 
 extraordinary interest, reading every line in the 
 newspapers referring to the case. Closely veiled 
 she went one day to police headquarters, and 
 asked to see the detectives who had followed up 
 the clues to Boston. They were not in just then, 
 but the officer in charge, observing that his visitor 
 was of a class not often seen in such a place, prom- 
 ised to send one or both of the detectives to any 
 address she would leave with him. 
 
 Next day a tall, soldierly-looking man, well 
 dressed, and of easy bearing, presented himself 
 at the house of the Misses Milltrum, and asked 
 for Miss Carreau. This was the detective. At 
 Miss Carreau's request he gave a detailed ac- 
 count of the proceedings connected with his 
 search for Bothwell, beginning at Burling Slip, 
 and ending on the unfortunate Portland steamer. 
 
 ' Then you think there is no doubt as to this 
 person being Mr. Bothwell ? " she asked with 
 ill-concealed anxiety. 
 
 " None whatever, madam. I followed him 
 step by step, all the way, and if that steamer
 
 220 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 hadn't gone down he would now be in the city 
 jail." 
 
 Judith shuddered. 
 
 " We don't usually allow these things to leave 
 headquarters, but I brought this along thinking 
 you might like to see it," and as he spoke the 
 detective produced the fur cap. 
 
 Again Judith shuddered, this time more 
 violently than before, for she had seen Mr. Both- 
 well wear such a cap when he went out driving. 
 She took it in her trembling hands, but in a 
 moment gave it" back to the detective. 
 
 " I am indeed very much obliged to you," she 
 said, speaking in a low, sad tone. " I knew Mr. 
 Bothwell intimately. He often came to my 
 father's house when we lived in the South. This 
 will explain why I wanted to hear what you could 
 tell me. Kindly accept this for your trouble," 
 handing the officer an envelope. Then she 
 added, " If at any time I should require your 
 services, perhaps you will favor me with your 
 card." 
 
 " Visiting-cards are not much in my line, 
 madam, but this may answer," as he wrote his 
 name and address on a slip of paper, and handed 
 it to Judith. 
 
 When he had gone Miss Carreau went to her 
 room, and locking the door, opened her desk, 
 from which she took out the letter Bothwell had 
 sent her the day he was leaving New York.
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 221 
 
 Within the large outer envelope was another on 
 which was written in pencil, " Not to be opened 
 until you hear from me." In the corner the 
 initials " G. B." were quite visible, though not so 
 plain as the other writing. 
 
 " Poor Gerald ! " she murmured, softly. " Oh, 
 why was he so foolish! And to think that this 
 is the end ! " She was pale as death. Not a 
 sign of blood was in her face, and only for her 
 eyes she would have seemed as a woman of 
 Grecian marble. But her eyes burned with un- 
 natural fire. Rage, hate, fury, flashed from them 
 as sparks from an anvil. " They have murdered 
 him," she whispered, with an intensity that sent 
 the words from her lips like quivering arrows 
 from a steel bow. 
 
 Then she opened the envelope and found in it 
 a package of large bills, a number of gold cer- 
 tificates, and a small key of curious pattern. 
 Hidden cunningly within the bills was a scrap of 
 paper. Eagerly she read: 
 
 " I am compelled to fly. But I hope to see you 
 soon. Keep the enclosed for me. Yoba under- 
 stands about the key. Show it to him, that is 
 all." 
 
 She kept within her room all that afternoon, 
 only coming down when dinner was announced, 
 but this excited no remark, as since Mr. Both- 
 well's disappearance her moods had been 
 strangely variable.
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 When Bothwell opened his eyes and looked 
 about him he wondered greatly. He was in a 
 small room, lying on a narrow bed, the room 
 scantily furnished, the bed unlike any on which 
 he had ever slept. Having a peculiar sensation 
 in his head, he put up his hand to feel what was 
 the matter, when he touched something that 
 seemed to be a thick bandage. This startled 
 him, but not so much as hearing a pleasant voice 
 say: 
 
 " Well, sir, you have had a long sleep. I hope 
 you feel rested,"" and turning to the bedside he 
 saw a comely, healthy-looking young woman in 
 the garb of a hospital nurse. 
 
 But he could not get the relation of events. 
 Why was he here ? Why was his head bandaged ? 
 This surely was not the Portland steamer. 
 
 Seeing the mystified look on his face, the nurse 
 came over to the bed, and laying her hand on his 
 forehead said : 
 
 " No fever to speak of. Nothing serious then, 
 you will be all right in a day or two." 
 
 " But what has happened ? I don't remember 
 a thing since " Then it all came to him, his 
 rushing from the steamer to the hotel, his slipping 
 on the icy sidewalk, his terrible fall, and the 
 blankness from which he was now awaking. In 
 another moment the horrors of the day before 
 broke upon him, and quicker far than lightning 
 scene after scene flashed across his memory.
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 223 
 
 Then it occurred to Bothwell that perhaps he 
 had not escaped, after all, and this room was the 
 hospital ward of some prison. 
 
 " Where am I ? " he asked, anxiously. 
 
 " In the City Hospital," the nurse answered, 
 pleasantly. 
 
 Then she told him the accident wards were 
 so crowded that he had been put in a private 
 room, and as the case was not serious, he would 
 be out in a day or two. 
 
 Soon the doctor made his morning round, and 
 smilingly said the patient needed his breakfast 
 more than anything else. After breakfast Both- 
 well got up, and, though weak, sat in an easy 
 chair, and being anxious to get some news asked 
 if he might have the morning papers. There was 
 no reference to his attack on Mr. Saxby, the Bos- 
 ton papers having other matters to exploit. When 
 the afternoon papers were brought in he saw that 
 grave fears were expressed for the Portland 
 steamer. The steamer had not arrived in Port- 
 land, nor had she been seen anywhere along the 
 coast. The steamboat company was sending 
 out tugs, hoping to discover the missing steamer, 
 which had probably met with some accident, and 
 was now in need of assistance. He explained 
 to the nurse his anxiety by saying that he had 
 friends on the Portland boat, and begged of her 
 to let him have the latest editions of the papers. 
 Next morning his first inquiry was about the
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 steamer, and if anything had been heard of her? 
 But the papers had nothing to report, only to 
 hope that the boat would weather the storm, and 
 run in somewhere along the coast. 
 
 The passenger list was printed in full, and 
 Both well saw there the name of " Vincent 
 Perrin." Towards evening, as he felt now com- 
 paratively well, he left the hospital, receiving 
 intact the substantial wallet which was in an 
 inside pocket when he fell. Going to the 
 Touraine, a hotel overlooking the Common, he 
 engaged a room, registering as " Henry Sim- 
 lick." Next day he again eagerly searched the 
 papers first for New York items, and then for 
 news of the Portland steamer. But there was 
 nothing of interest from New York, everything 
 centering on the ill-fated boat, which was now 
 given up as lost. 
 
 Calling a cab he drove to a clothing house on 
 Washington Street, where he made various pur- 
 chases, ordering everything to be sent to the 
 Touraine; then he went to a house which dealt 
 in trunks and leather goods, and later to the 
 Boston and Albany depot, where he secured a 
 sleeper on the train going at midnight. A new 
 scheme was now in Bothwell's mind. As the 
 Portland boat was lost, he was supposed to be 
 drowned. Granting that the detectives might 
 get on his trail, they could only follow him to the 
 steamer wharf. No one had seen him leave the
 
 THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE 225 
 
 boat. His name was on the passenger list. 
 The cap which he feared might lead to his 
 detection would now only more fully identify 
 him as having sailed for Portland. He had ample 
 supplies of money to take him where he pleased. 
 Gerald Bothwell was dead. Dead in the person 
 of Vincent Perrin, who had gone down with 
 scores of others on the night the Portland steamer 
 sailed from Boston.
 
 VIII. 
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 
 
 OOON after her interview with the detectives, 
 Judith went to the Sembrada, taking the key 
 Bothwell had directed her to show to Yoba. For 
 reasons best known to herself, Judith was most 
 anxious to secure the box or cabinet to which this 
 key was related. With it in her possession, cer- 
 tain matters would easily adjust themselves. 
 
 The Milltrum carriage was always at Judith's 
 disposal, but this morning she preferred to walk, 
 for the air was crisp, stimulating, with just 
 enough sting in it to make rapid walking a 
 pleasure. And then a woman like Judith Car- 
 reau superb in figure, of glorious beauty, with 
 every movement suggesting fulness of life, and 
 arrayed in garments singularly appropriate and 
 becoming has no right to allow herself to be 
 boxed up in a carriage where people cannot see 
 and admire her. A beautiful woman owes some- 
 thing to those who are not so favored. Miss 
 Carreau recognized this obligation, for she seldom 
 used the carriage unless it were an open one, and 
 
 226
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 227 
 
 then only when the drive was a sort of semi-pro- 
 cession with spectators in abundance. But we are 
 not to infer that Judith was vain, for vanity is 
 a poor, silly thing, no more to be compared with 
 pride than flat cider with sparkling champagne. 
 
 On reaching the Sembrada she was bitterly 
 disappointed to learn that Yoba had gone, with- 
 out leaving a trace by which he might be dis- 
 covered. The clerk, a courteous, intelligent 
 young man, also informed her that Mr. Bothwell's 
 apartment was now occupied by a Mr. Neumarck, 
 an old gentleman, who rarely left his room. See- 
 ing a look of surprise on Miss Carreau's face, the 
 clerk added that, when Mr. Neumarck came to 
 the Sembrada, he not only produced the lease 
 under which Mr. Bothwell held the apartment, 
 transferring to him the unexpired term, but also 
 a deed or bill of sale covering the furniture. 
 
 This caused Judith to wonder if the article to 
 which Bothwell referred when sending her the 
 key was included in the effects of which Mr. 
 Neumarck had taken possession. She suggested 
 to the clerk the possibility of an interview with 
 Mr. Neumarck. He smiled pleasantly, but shook 
 his head. Then she became very charming in 
 her insistence, assuring the clerk that Mr. Neu- 
 marck would undoubtedly make an exception 
 in her favor. What could the poor fellow do 
 under the influence of those pleading eyes, and 
 with that beautiful face looking eagerly into his ?
 
 228 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 So he yielded, as the man has ever done since Eve 
 offered the apple to her obedient spouse. 
 
 On going to Mr. Neumarck's apartment, Miss 
 Carreau pencilled a word or two on her visiting- 
 card, and much to the clerk's surprise, for he had 
 accompanied her up-stairs, the servant brought 
 back word that Mr. Neumarck would see her. 
 
 An old, wizened, singular-looking man, but 
 with eyes bright and keen as those of a ferret, 
 was sitting propped up in a wheeled chair and 
 holding her card in his hand, when she followed 
 the servant into the room. 
 
 " What is your business, madam ? Have you 
 come to tell me anything of Mr. Bothwell? Are 
 you aware that I am an invalid and do not receive 
 visitors ? " were the questions that greeted Judith 
 before she had even seated herself, and asked with 
 an eagerness which was very manifest. 
 
 " I come rather to ask a favor," Judith said, 
 gently, " one which I hope you will grant, as it is 
 of much importance to me." 
 
 " I thought you were going to tell me some- 
 thing about Mr. Bothwell. You wrote his name 
 on your card. Otherwise the servant would not 
 have let you in. Why did you give his name with 
 yours ? " 
 
 Never did Judith meet a pair of eyes that 
 searched her so unsparingly as those of Mr. 
 Neumarck. She could feel them, as points of 
 flame, burn their way to the depths of her
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 229 
 
 heart. Realizing, therefore, that subterfuge or 
 evasion would be useless, she replied : 
 
 " I had a letter from Mr. Bothwell the day he 
 left New York. In that letter he enclosed this 
 key, and I have come to find the box or cabinet 
 which was placed in Yoba's care subject to my 
 order." 
 
 For a few moments Mr. Neumarck looked at 
 Judith, perhaps more intently than before, then 
 he said, significantly : 
 
 " You must have been very intimate with Mr. 
 Bothwell when he found leisure to write you at 
 that time." 
 
 " I was intimate with Mr. Bothwell, very 
 intimate. In fact we were " 
 
 Judith stopped abruptly, though the ring of 
 defiance in her voice continued to the last word. 
 
 " You think he is dead ? " Mr. Neumarck 
 asked the question in a cold, merciless tone. 
 
 " How can I think otherwise ? I have seen the 
 detective who traced him to Boston. There is no 
 question in my mind." 
 
 If Judith's eyes had been as sharp as they were 
 brilliant, or if she could have seen as deeply into 
 Mr. Neumarck's face as he was seeing into hers, 
 she might have noticed a peculiar expression flit 
 across his features. 
 
 " Nothing more can be done, I suppose ? " 
 Mr. Neumarck's tone was that of utter indiffer- 
 ence.
 
 230 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " What more can be done ? " Judith asked, 
 almost fiercely. He was on that Portland 
 steamer when it was lost with all on board." 
 
 " Have you any interest in Mr. Both well other 
 than to secure the article for which you have 
 brought the key? " 
 
 How searching Mr. Neumarck's eyes were 
 as he asked this question ! 
 
 Judith's face flushed angrily. What right had 
 Mr. Neumarck to probe into matters which did 
 not concern him? Why should he be so curious 
 regarding her relations with Mr. Bothwell? A 
 hot reply, therefore, leaped to her lips, for her 
 Southern blood was aroused. But she remem- 
 bered that Mr. Neumarck had possibly in his 
 possession that for which she had come, and a 
 foolish anger now would only result in her de- 
 feat. So she answered, but speaking in a low 
 tone, and with considerable restraint: 
 
 " My interest in Mr. Bothwell relates ex- 
 clusively to the errand which brought me here 
 this morning." 
 
 Again that singular expression flitted across 
 Mr. Neumarck's face, but so quickly that Judith 
 did not see it. 
 
 Then he touched a gong at his hand. 
 
 " Bring me that Cloissonne jewel-casket from 
 the safe in my room," he said to the servant. In 
 a few minutes the servant returned with a beauti- 
 ful specimen of Cloissonne work, as large as an
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 231 
 
 ordinary cash-box, the lid fastened so cunningly 
 that there seemed no place to insert the key Judith 
 held in her fingers. 
 
 " It opens here," Mr. Neumarck said, sliding 
 an outer covering from the face of the lock, " now 
 please take it away." 
 
 He listened unmoved to her profuse thanks, 
 studiously avoided the hand she extended in 
 gratitude, nor did he make any reply to her part- 
 ing words, save a nod of curt dismissal. But 
 when she had gone he smiled mysteriously. 
 
 Walking rapidly across the park, holding 
 firmly the precious box, Judith soon reached 
 home, where she went at once to her room. 
 Then with strange eagerness she opened the box, 
 hardly giving a thought to some valuable jewels 
 that were on the upper tray, intent only on finding 
 some papers that were hidden in a compartment 
 by itself. When she found these papers her face 
 lit up with joy, and a little cry of gladness escaped 
 her lips. Hardly daring to open them lest some 
 prying eyes might see, she struck a match and 
 held the papers to the flame, waiting till they were 
 consumed to a crisp. And even of this she was 
 careful, for she opened the window and so scat- 
 tered the ashes that not a vestige remained. 
 Then going back to the box, she took out the 
 jewels one after the other, examining them care- 
 fully, trying some of the rings on her fingers, and 
 enjoying the flash and sparkle of the stones.
 
 232 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 When Judith came down to dinner that even- 
 ing, instead of being anxious and preoccupied, 
 she entered heartily into the conversation at the 
 table, and told some bright Southern stories, ren- 
 dering the negro dialect with such fidelity that Mr. 
 Milltrum fairly shook with laughter. Miss Mill- 
 trum, no unworthy mimic herself, indeed a born 
 actress, recognized in Judith a quality hitherto 
 unnoticed, and mentally projected for the coming 
 season certain entertainments, when this new 
 talent would be of material service. Maud was 
 simply amazed -at the transformation in Judith. 
 She had considered her dull, without skill in 
 conversation, by no means adapted to the light, 
 graceful ways so essential to social success. 
 While she admitted to Miss Milltrum that Judith 
 was singularly beautiful, and could wear a gown 
 with rare distinction, beyond this Peggy could 
 not persuade her to go. And now this same 
 Judith, whom she had almost despised, was play- 
 ing mental archery with Mr. Milltrum, sending 
 well-aimed arrows from her dainty lips, some of 
 them feathered with exquisite skill, and others 
 so sharply tipped as to strike deeply into the 
 target. Even Paul Bedford, though by no means 
 of slow wit or dragging speech, was not proof 
 against her pleasantries, and more than once had 
 to join in the laugh against himself. Judith was 
 surely in a most fascinating mood. Nor was it 
 that mesmeric, dominating influence which exer-
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 233 
 
 cises a form of spell, but rather a pervading pres- 
 ence, quickening and stimulating all who are 
 within its reach. 
 
 " I wish Judith could come with us to-night," 
 Mr. Milltrum said, impulsively. " It must be 
 terribly dull and lonesome here without a soul 
 in the house except the servants." 
 
 "Yes, why not?" Paul responded, looking 
 admiringly at Judith, who sat immediately oppo- 
 site. 
 
 " Perhaps Judith would not care to come," 
 Miss Milltrum suggested doubtingly, for she re- 
 membered that mourning robes were not consid- 
 ered good form in the Metropolitan Opera House, 
 the place to which they were going later in the 
 evening. 
 
 " Where are you going? " she asked, smilingly. 
 
 " To see ' Faust,' " Maud answered. 
 
 " ' Faust ! ' Oh, I wish - " then she stopped 
 abruptly. 
 
 For a few minutes no one spoke. Judith may 
 not have intended anything by her dramatic and 
 effective pause, nevertheless it secured positive 
 results, for soon after, when the Misses Milltrum 
 went up-stairs to dress for the opera, Judith went 
 with them, and when they returned ready for the 
 carriage waiting at the door, she accompanied 
 them, nor did either Mr. Milltrum or Paul 
 Bedford manifest any surprise when they saw 
 her form one of the company. Verily the
 
 234 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 feminine mind has various ways of securing its 
 own desires. 
 
 A brilliant scene that surely was, on which 
 Judith turned her wondering eyes, as, sitting in 
 Mr. Milltrum's box, she looked around the 
 crowded opera-house. All New York was there 
 at least all that New York is supposed to 
 represent. The magnificent opera-house, with its 
 superb decorations, was a revelation in itself, but 
 the brilliant costumes, flashing diamonds, women 
 resplendent in glorious beauty, everywhere signs 
 of boundless wealth, filled Judith with amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 The possibility of entering such a world as this, 
 of sharing in its pleasures, living its joyous and 
 ambitious life, being openly received as a member 
 of its favored circle, able to take her place among 
 these envied daughters of Gotham, and in time, 
 perhaps, be recognized as a leader in the fashion- 
 able host, so aroused Judith that for the moment 
 she forgot everything, save the one purpose 
 which now dominated her heart. A little smile 
 hovered around her lips as she realized that 
 opera-glasses were levelled at her from all parts 
 of the house, and she instinctively felt the ques- 
 tioning now going on in many of the boxes. 
 
 Under the excitement her eyes glowed as with 
 fire, a faint but exquisite flush crept into her 
 cheeks, her face became radiant with newly 
 awakened hopes and ambitions, so that her beauty
 
 A VISIT TO THE SEMBRADA 235 
 
 was positively startling. As a usual thing the 
 Milltrum box excited little attention. It was 
 taken for granted that the Misses Milltrum 
 would wear handsome gowns, appropriate jewels, 
 and properly represent the set to which they 
 belonged. 
 
 But on this night the Milltrum box awakened 
 general interest, and scores of questions were 
 asked, most of them failing to secure definite 
 reply. 
 
 In due time the curtain rose upon the grave 
 year-worn Faust, whose life has been one of 
 serious toil, almost unrelieved by such pleasures 
 as usually come to men. A strange theme for 
 the poet and dramatist the struggle of a man 
 with himself, the fierce contention of the two 
 natures, in which the one battles with the other 
 for the mastery. Judith seemed oblivious of her 
 surroundings, leaning forward to catch every note 
 of that wondrous music, as it rippled from 
 Marguerite's throat, or fell from the lips of 
 Faust, or leaped daringly from the mocking 
 mouth of the Tempter. Again and again Paul 
 Bedford looked at her, wondering why the 
 opera affected her so strangely, for there were 
 times when she shivered as though frightened 
 by some mysterious foe, while in another moment 
 he was certain that there were tears in her eyes. 
 Being keenly susceptible to music himself, this 
 responsiveness on the part of Judith quickened
 
 236 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 his sympathies to a degree he had never before 
 felt for her. 
 
 Assuredly Judith scored heavily that evening. 
 Her vivacity during dinner, her exquisite tact in 
 accepting the rather tardy and possible forced 
 invitation of the Misses Milltrum to go with them 
 to the opera, and her delicate appreciation of the 
 music, combined to make the evening an unquali- 
 fied success. No wonder, therefore, when she 
 retired that night, there was a look of triumph 
 on her face. And well there might be; for not 
 only the evening, but the morning as well, had 
 brought her within reaching distance of dreams 
 long hidden in her soul.
 
 w 
 
 IX. 
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA 
 
 HEN pity and gratitude lay siege to a 
 man's heart, surrender is merely a question of 
 time. 
 
 Ever since that night when Judith Carreau 
 went with the Milltrums to the opera, a feeling 
 of pity for the homeless, motherless stranger had 
 taken possession of Paul Bedford. Neither did 
 he fail to recall the peculiar circumstances under 
 which Judith had come to the Milltrums, for 
 Mr. Milltrum had shared with him the romance 
 of his early life. Then, too, the fact that Judith 
 was his own kinswoman, however distant, added 
 to the burden of obligation, for blood is thicker 
 than water, especially Southern blood. Probably 
 if she had been less beautiful and attractive in 
 person, Judith would not have appealed so stren- 
 uously to the chivalry and tenderness of Paul's 
 heart, but that is a matter with which we have 
 no concern. On general principles, however, it 
 may be assumed that pity, when the object of it 
 is a young and singularly beautiful woman, has 
 
 237
 
 238 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 a way of enlarging itself into generous propor- 
 tions. 
 
 Closely allied to this feeling" of pity for Judith 
 was his sense of gratitude to Mr. Milltrum. For 
 Mr. Milltrum, Paul entertained a profound affec- 
 tion. He had been to him as a father, a guardian, 
 a friend; he had rescued him from poverty, ex- 
 tended a cordial and generous hand, opened to 
 him doorways that led to business success, and 
 placed him under obligations which he never 
 could repay. He also knew how Mr. Milltrum 
 regarded Judith. The dear man made no secret 
 of his affection for her, and, though at no time 
 had he suggested such a thing, Paul could not 
 but feel what he desired in his breast. 
 
 And so, between pity and gratitude, Paul found 
 himself gradually yielding, and, while he well 
 knew that Judith would never be to him what Mi- 
 riam had been, might they not be measurably 
 happy? Miriam's place in his heart was sacred, 
 and would ever remain so. That was settled. For 
 him there had been one real marriage, and there 
 never could be another. But why doom himself to 
 a lonely, homeless life, amassing wealth for which 
 he had no special use, when Judith might share 
 his fortune and make possible an existence less 
 hopeless and barren? 
 
 Reasoning thus, a sure proof that he was 
 not in love, for love never reasons, he became 
 more cousinly in his attentions to Judith, finally
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA 239 
 
 drifting into the position of an acknowledged 
 suitor. It must be admitted that he was not an 
 enthusiastic lover, and some women would have 
 given him marching orders at short notice, but 
 Judith seemed content to let matters take their 
 course. 
 
 In this way the months went by, until one day 
 there was a quiet wedding, so quiet, indeed, that 
 few knew anything of it, save the little circle 
 specially interested. 
 
 Having made large purchases in Nevada prop- 
 erties, Paul suggested that, instead of the ortho- 
 dox wedding-jaunt, a private car be secured, and 
 the Milltrums go with Judith and himself on a 
 prospecting tour among the Nevada mines. This 
 was readily agreed to, Mr. Milltrum entering 
 into the plans with the greatest possible zest. 
 There was a novelty about the arrangement which 
 they all enjoyed, and, as the car was shunted off 
 wherever the travellers pleased, remaining almost 
 a week at Buffalo, giving time for Niagara and 
 a little independent tour in Canada ; then for an- 
 other week at Chicago, where the Milltrum Bros., 
 through their employees, gave the party a joyous 
 reception ; then again at other points on the way, 
 more than a month elapsed before the company 
 reached their destination. 
 
 It so happened that the special properties in 
 which Paul Bedford was interested were situated 
 in Storey County; the car, therefore, was run
 
 240 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 to Virginia, which enjoyed the distinction of 
 being the chief town of the county. Private cars 
 were not an every-day occurrence in Virginia. 
 Indeed, an ordinary train, such as one would 
 find almost anywhere, meant an event of much 
 importance to this county capital. Anything more 
 impressive than a freight train, with a caboose 
 into which a stray passenger might be stowed, 
 usually excited general interest. So work was 
 practically suspended for the time being, and all 
 who could went down to the little station to see 
 the train, of whose coming the station-master had 
 received word several hours before. As it came 
 in sight, there was a buzz of excitement, for few 
 men in that company had ever seen such a train, 
 a powerful locomotive, one of the best the 
 road had at its disposal, and one solitary car, 
 but longer and heavier than Virginia, had yet 
 known. 
 
 Virginia, at this time, was not densely popu- 
 lated, hardly numbering as many residents as a 
 New York down-town block. Quite a little crowd 
 gathered around the car when it finally came to 
 a stop in the station. There were a number of 
 women with children in their arms, and still more 
 with youngsters tugging at their skirts, some 
 of them much frightened at the puffing and snort- 
 ing of the big engine. There were fully a score 
 of boys, barefooted and bareheaded, and their 
 general apparel was less evident than custom is
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA 
 
 wont to favor. Then there were girls, and young 
 women, by no means unbecomingly attired ; some 
 of them fine specimens of healthy, vigorous life, 
 and with that graceful movement which comes 
 from untrammelled, unaffected youth. Of course, 
 there were young men, and men not so young; 
 men from the mines, and men from the country 
 round about, for Virginia was something of a 
 trading-centre, and furnished supplies to other 
 sections of the county. 
 
 As the day was warm and it lacked some hours 
 to sundown, the car windows were raised, thus 
 affording the travellers an opportunity of enjoy- 
 ing the unwonted scene. But Mr. Milltrum was 
 not content with looking out of the window. He 
 had too much of the Western restlessness in his 
 blood to sit quietly in his chair. So, at the first 
 available moment, he went to the rear platform 
 of the car, and, taking off his hat, said : 
 
 " Good afternoon, my friends. I am very glad 
 to see you. I hope you are well. This is a fine 
 country of yours. Lots of it, too. My name is 
 Milltrum. I am going to stay a few days so as 
 to get a breath of this good air and grow young 
 and handsome again." 
 
 The pleasant face of Mr. Milltrum, as he spoke, 
 and his hearty, buoyant manner, instantly caught 
 the sympathy of the Virginians, and they gave 
 him a cheer of cordial welcome. By this time 
 Paul had come to the platform, and could not
 
 242 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 forbear a smile at Mr. Milltrum's characteristic 
 introduction of himself. 
 
 " This gentleman," Mr. Milltrum continued, 
 waving his hat in the direction of Paul, " is my 
 partner, and, if I am not mistaken, has an interest 
 in some of these mines. Well, you can trust him 
 to do the fair, square thing every time and every 
 day in the year." 
 
 At this, Paul took off his hat, and, smiling 
 pleasantly, bowed an acknowledgment, which 
 caused the Virginians to cheer him as they had 
 Mr. Milltrum. ' 
 
 The car was run on a siding, and the company, 
 with the exception of Judith, started out to ex- 
 plore the town. 
 
 Leaning back in her chair, in a cool, white 
 dress, sufficiently interested to enjoy the scene 
 around her, Judith, to such Virginians as could 
 see her, offered a picture rarely seen, either there 
 or anywhere. And small wonder if many in that 
 company envied this elegant, graceful, marvel- 
 lously beautiful woman, reclining luxuriantly in 
 her willow chair, her glorious eyes filled with the 
 light that came streaming from the hills, and a 
 smile of amusement playing on her tempting lips ! 
 Who would not envy one so happily placed? 
 When a woman has youth, beauty, health, wealth, 
 has she not the world at her feet, and what more 
 can life give? 
 
 About an hour after the Milltrums, with Paul
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA 243 
 
 Bedford, had gone to interview the storekeepers 
 of Virginia, a man drove up to the station, and, 
 when he had securely fastened his horse in the 
 little shed, went across the track to the ticket- 
 office. 
 
 Not having anything to do just then, and 
 most of the Virginians being taken up with their 
 own affairs, Judith followed the movements of 
 the newcomer with considerable interest. That 
 he was a man, full-grown, she saw at a glance, 
 and yet he was so short in stature as to be prac- 
 tically a dwarf. Had he worn a short coat or 
 jacket, at a distance he might have been mistaken 
 for a boy, but, for some reason, he affected a 
 garment of undue length, with results far from 
 helpful to his personal appearance. As he came 
 nearer, she saw that he was black, and of power- 
 ful frame, almost a giant, judging by his chest 
 and shoulders. If Judith had not been from the 
 far South, such a figure would have startled her ; 
 even as it was, she felt a measure of discomfort. 
 She saw him go into the ticket-office, and, in a 
 few moments, come out, followed by the station- 
 master, whose face wore a heavy, puzzled ex- 
 pression. To her surprise, the station-master 
 came down the track toward the car in which she 
 was sitting, holding a letter in his hand, the dwarf 
 following not far behind him. 
 
 "Where is Mr. Paul Bedford?" the station- 
 master inquired of the car conductor, who was
 
 244 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 standing on the track not far from the window 
 where Judith sat. 
 
 " He went up-town about an hour ago," the 
 conductor replied. 
 
 " When is he likely to be back ? Here is a 
 letter, rather important, I guess, but I can't make 
 anything out of the chap who brought it. He 
 is Simlick's man, and Simlick owns some mines 
 not far from here." 
 
 The conductor, who had been with the party 
 during all of the trip, a fine, capable fellow, looked 
 inquiringly at the station-master, then at the 
 strange creature who was spoken of as " Sim- 
 lick's man." 
 
 " He's dumb, but not deaf ; he understands 
 well enough what's said to him, but he can't make 
 you understand him. Sometimes he's an awfully 
 aggravating fellow, and then again he manages 
 first rate." 
 
 " Leave the letter here with me, and I will 
 give it to Mr. Bedford as soon as he comes back," 
 the conductor said, reaching out his hand to the 
 station-master, but, before the letter could pass 
 from one to the other, the dwarf interposed, and, 
 by very definite signs, expressed positive disap- 
 proval. 
 
 " Has the critter a name ? " the conductor 
 asked, now considerably amused. 
 
 " Mr. Simlick calls him Yoba, and so we all 
 call him hereabouts. Isn't he the queerest chap
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA 245 
 
 you ever saw? I guess he will have to wait 
 for Mr. Bedford." 
 
 Yoba ! Here in Nevada ! Every drop of blood 
 left Judith's face as she heard the familiar name. 
 True, she had never seen the dwarf, but Bothwell 
 had often spoken of him, and she remembered 
 that, in his last letter, he mentioned Yoba as 
 having charge of the jewel-box. By what strange 
 chance had he come to Nevada? And why did 
 he disappear so strangely from New York? 
 More than a year ago he had left the Sembrada, 
 and, though she had employed the same detective 
 whose search for Bothwell was so skilfully con- 
 ducted, in the case of Yoba he could do nothing. 
 And now to have him appear in this far-off place 
 so startled her that for the time she seemed as 
 one in a dream. 
 
 " How long have you known him ? " she heard 
 the conductor ask. 
 
 " About a year," the station-master replied. 
 " He came with Mr. Simlick, who is nearly as 
 close-mouthed as Yoba. But he's been wonder- 
 fully lucky." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Most every way. Of course, he didn't come 
 out here empty-handed, and, if a man has money 
 to start with, the rest is easy. But Simlick seemed 
 to know just where to put in his bar." 
 
 " Where did he come from? " How Judith lis- 
 tened for the station-master's reply!
 
 246 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " New England somewhere. His folks, I be- 
 lieve, were Austrians. At any rate, that was the 
 record made in the county clerk's office when he 
 was having the title-deeds made out." 
 
 In Austria! Judith now breathed with com- 
 parative freedom. Some color came back to her 
 face. But, as the station-master went on, the 
 color died away again. 
 
 " We have our own notions here about Mr. 
 Simlick. Some of us think he is no more Aus- 
 trian than I am. But that is neither here nor 
 there. One sure thing, he is making money hand 
 over fist, and, unless something happens, he will 
 soon have shekles enough to build a house of 
 solid silver from cellar to attic." 
 
 All this time Yoba stood between the station- 
 master and the conductor, looking first at one, 
 then at the other, listening eagerly to what was 
 being said, apparently understanding every word. 
 
 Partly reassured, but anxious to learn all that 
 was possible of Simlick, Judith leaned out of the 
 window, and, addressing the car conductor, said : 
 
 " Mr. Bates, did I hear you say that some one 
 had brought a letter for Mr. Bedford ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," he answered, coming to the 
 window. 
 
 " Give it to me," Judith said, with a degree of 
 imperiousness in her voice. This caused Yoba to 
 look up to the window, and a strange expression 
 came upon his face. There seemed in his eyes
 
 A TRIP TO NEVADA 247 
 
 a flash of recognition. This was instantly fol- 
 lowed by a look of amazement. Immediately he 
 was at the station-master's side, and, snatching 
 the letter from his hand, hurried across the track. 
 
 "Don't follow him, Mr. Bates," Judith said, 
 excitedly, for she was now almost certain that 
 Yoba recognized her, and had declined, therefore, 
 to permit Mr. Simlick's letter to pass into her 
 possession. 
 
 There was no necessity of the conductor mak- 
 ing any reply, for, before Yoba had reached the 
 ticket-office, Paul Bedford, at the head of the 
 Milltrum party, all laden down with parcels and 
 bundles of every imaginable shape and size, came 
 down the road from Virginia. 
 
 " There is Mr. Bedford now," the station- 
 master said, and, without waiting to hear the 
 muttered comment of the angry Bates, he fol- 
 lowed Yoba, and, touching him on the shoulder, 
 pointed to Paul Bedford. This Yoba seemed to 
 understand, for he stopped and waited until the 
 party had reached the car. Then he looked at 
 the station-master, who merely nodded when they 
 both recrossed the track, Yoba with the letter in 
 his hand. 
 
 " A letter for you, Mr. Bedford," the station- 
 master said, pointing to Yoba, who at once 
 stepped up to Paul and handed him Mr. Simlick's 
 communication. 
 
 Judith still sat at the open window, and, as
 
 248 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paul took the letter, her face whitened as if in 
 death, and she saw that when Yoba recognized 
 Paul a gleam of hate shone from his eyes. What 
 could it all mean? By what strange ordering of 
 fate had her wedding- journey been so planned 
 as to bring her into contact with Yoba, whose 
 presence was a menace in itself? And who was 
 the Mr. Simlick, to whom Yoba gave such serv- 
 ice ? Surely Bothwell but, no, that could not 
 be possible. Only an hour before every woman 
 in the company gathered at the Virginia station 
 envied the rich, beautiful young bride, as she 
 rested her proud head against the cushions of 
 her chair and looked carelessly at the throng. 
 
 Now there was a thorn with the rose, one all 
 the more terrible because only the wearer of the 
 rose knew of its existence.
 
 T 
 
 X. 
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 
 
 HE letter causing all this commotion was 
 seemingly a simple, inoffensive note, and read as 
 follows : 
 
 " MY DEAR SIR : Our station-master in- 
 formed me this morning that you were expected 
 in Virginia sometime to-day. As there is a 
 slight misunderstanding regarding the boundaries 
 of our respective properties, I hasten to ask for 
 a short interview this evening, as I believe we 
 can adjust matters in a few minutes. I will ar- 
 range with the station-master for the use of his 
 office, where we can have a table large enough for 
 our maps, and make such comparisons as may be 
 necessary. We have no trains in Virginia later 
 than seven o'clock; any time after that will be 
 convenient for the station-master. Kindly send 
 word by bearer. 
 
 " Very truly yours, 
 
 " HENRY SIMLICK. 
 
 "To Mr. Paul Bedford" 
 
 249
 
 250 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Simlick ! Simlick ! " Paul said, trying to re- 
 call the name. " Oh, I remember now. He is 
 the owner of some property adjoining ours. 
 Haven't you heard of him, Mr. Milltrum ? " 
 
 Mr. Milltrum was not thinking of Mr. Sim- 
 lick just then. He was engaged in a critical 
 but kindly study of Yoba, whose personal appear- 
 ance had excited his curiosity. His long coat, 
 his short legs, his immense shoulders and chest, 
 his keen, quick eyes, glancing from one to an- 
 other in the little group, suggested to Mr. Mill- 
 trum the mounfain scene in " Rip Van Winkle," 
 and he could scarce forbear a smile. Apparently 
 Yoba was by no means displeased at the manifest 
 interest of Mr. Milltrum, for he smiled when Mr. 
 Milltrum smiled, he nodded when Mr. Milltrum 
 nodded, and when, finally, the genial old gentle- 
 man, out of sheer pity for the unfortunate crea- 
 ture, extended his hand in silent sympathy, Yoba 
 not only took it, but in an instant placed it on 
 his head as a token of gratitude and submission. 
 Mr. Milltrum little imagined all that his simple 
 kindness involved. Just as a piece of cunningly 
 hidden steel may affect the needle in a ship's com- 
 pass, and send the vessel far out of the course 
 originally intended, so was that handshake of 
 Mr. Milltrum's. For Yoba had been so treated 
 by cruel and unthinking people that he was now 
 more of a savage than any of the tribe from which 
 he had been stolen in his youth. Men had flung
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 251 
 
 jibes after him on the street. Boys had danced 
 around him in mockery. Little girls had fled 
 from him in terror. Women had openly shud- 
 dered in his presence. Everywhere he had been 
 made a laughing-stock and butt for ridicule. 
 Hatred had therefore so taken possession of him 
 that he sought every possible opportunity of re- 
 venge, and he would chuckle and croak with fiend- 
 ish pleasure at horrors from which other men 
 would turn terror-stricken. 
 
 To have Mr. Milltrum look at him with pity; 
 to hear him express to the station-master his 
 sympathy with Yoba's sad condition; to feel 
 something of what was meant in the grasp of that 
 kindly hand ! No wonder the poor fellow's face 
 lit up with singular pleasure, for never before 
 had he been favored with such a greeting, and, 
 when he reverently placed Mr. Milltrum's hand 
 upon his head, by that act he constituted himself 
 both the slave and protector of the one who had 
 so honored him. 
 
 After reading Mr. Simlick's letter, Paul Bed- 
 ford went to the writing-desk in the car, where 
 he wrote a courteous reply, accepting the appoint- 
 ment, and naming the hour when he would go 
 to the station-master's office. This he gave to 
 Yoba, who immediately started for the wagon- 
 shed, and in a few minutes drove rapidly away. 
 
 Yoba formed a general subject for conversa- 
 tion at the dinner-table, where the party assem-
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 bled soon after he had gone. Mr. Milltrum had 
 made excellent use of the interval between Yoba's 
 departure and the dinner-hour to learn all that 
 was possible of the ill-favored dwarf and his 
 mysterious master, questioning and cross-ques- 
 tioning the station-master after the manner of a 
 criminal lawyer. At the dinner-table, Mr. Mill- 
 trum took a leading part in the conversation. 
 
 " Paul, I am glad we have gone into mining. 
 We may be as fortunate as Mr. Simlick. Who 
 knows? He has been here only a year, and yet 
 has made, according to the station-master, three 
 big fortunes. Peggy, I have made up my mind, 
 if this Virginia venture succeeds, to have you 
 married, no matter what it costs; you are in 
 Maud's way, and it isn't fair. I know, of course, 
 it will take a lot of money to do this, but I am 
 desperate, Peggy, for your chances are shorten- 
 ing up. Meantime, these berries are not half- 
 bad. Thank you, yes, I will, seeing you insist 
 on it." 
 
 " Why not make some arrangements with Mr. 
 Simlick? He is to meet Paul this evening. As 
 the despairing uncle, appeal to him. Urge the 
 claims of the lonely, yearning female. Take with 
 you a typewritten list of my virtues and qualifica- 
 tions. Something may come of it, uncle. As a 
 proof of my anxiety, I have given you the largest 
 and nicest berries in the dish." 
 
 "Let Maud write that list, Peggy. A little
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 253 
 
 of her handwriting goes a long way. She can 
 use up more paper and say less than most people. 
 Her caligraphy is really imposing, and then it is 
 so wonderfully indefinite. One can read out of 
 it almost anything." 
 
 " Paul Bedford, I am ashamed of you ! The 
 idea of intimating that a list of Peggy's virtues 
 would not cover a sheet of paper ! To begin with, 
 she is " 
 
 " Yes, she is, Maud, she is, and has been for 
 these many years. As her patient, long-suffering 
 uncle, I have done all that was possible, and yet 
 she is, yes, she is." 
 
 " Give me one more chance, uncle. See this 
 Mr. Simlick. Use that moving, tearful eloquence 
 of yours. Put the case to him so that it may 
 appeal to his chivalry. Perhaps it may end with 
 a ' Bless you, my children.' ' 
 
 "Judith evidently has no such expectation. You 
 observe how silent she is." As Mr. Milltrum 
 spoke, he looked smilingly at Judith, hoping to 
 arouse her interest in the conversation. Judith 
 tried to smile, but it was a poor, pitiful effort, 
 an expression of pain rather than pleasure. 
 
 " It might be well, uncle, before drawing up 
 the settlements, to make inquiries as to Mr. Sim- 
 lick's domestic arrangements. There may be a 
 Mrs. Simlick somewhere. Such things are not 
 uncommon. These mysterious men who drop 
 down from the skies are not always angels. Most
 
 254 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 of them have been on the earth before. Mrs. 
 Simlick, however, supposing 1 there is such a 
 woman, may be willing to dispose of her interest 
 at a reasonable price. Some women, provided the 
 consideration is Judith, what is the matter? 
 Are you faint? Open the window, Paul. It is 
 stifling hot here. That palm-leaf fan, Maud. 
 There, she will be better in a few minutes." 
 
 And Miss Milltrum was right, for soon a tinge 
 of color came back to Judith's face and she opened 
 her eyes, though with a strangely frightened look. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," she said, gently, " the heat 
 has troubled me all day. Please excuse me if I 
 go to my room for a little while. Thank you, 
 Paul, but really there is no need of it. I am 
 all right now." 
 
 Nevertheless, she leaned heavily on Paul's arm 
 as she went to her room, and her face was almost 
 as white as the pillow which Miss Milltrum placed 
 under her head. 
 
 Though it was well known in Virginia that 
 Mr. Simlick had been singularly fortunate, dis- 
 covering silver where other men could find only 
 dirt and sand, besides securing claims which 
 promised to be of fabulous value, yet he lived 
 in a rude hut, little better than that of the poorest 
 miner. He was sitting on a bench outside his 
 hut, waiting for Yoba to return from Virginia. 
 The sun had gone down, but it was warm and
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 255 
 
 sultry, with sufficient heaviness in the air to sug- 
 gest an approaching thunder-storm. From where 
 he sat a splendid view was possible, for hills 
 and mountains and sky stretched away into dis- 
 tances almost measureless. 
 
 Had he been sensitive to his surroundings, the 
 wonderful stillness of that hour would surely have 
 reproduced itself in his heart. He had thrown his 
 hat on the ground, thus disclosing a head of 
 splendid proportions, covered with a shock of 
 coarse, black hair. Instead of coat and vest he 
 wore a dark blue mining-shirt, which, unfastened 
 at the neck, revealed a chest brawny as that of 
 a Hercules. In his belt was the inevitable revolver, 
 an ugly-looking weapon, and, when held by 
 such a hand as his, it meant serious business. His 
 trousers below the knees were stuffed, miner fash- 
 ion, into his long, heavy boots. His eyes were 
 keen and piercing as those of a hawk, and rest- 
 less and eager as they were sharp and bril- 
 liant. 
 
 " Damn the fellow ! " he muttered, rising from 
 the bench and going to the end of the hut, where 
 he could get a clearer look down the road. 
 
 " One comfort, anyhow, he doesn't waste his 
 time chattering, otherwise yes, he is coming. 
 Think of me writing a letter to Paul Bedford! 
 Henry Simlick, ha, ha! And actually proposing 
 a friendly conference! " 
 
 If Paul Bedford had seen the expression on
 
 256 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mr. Simlick's face at that moment, he would not 
 have so readily accorded the desired interview, 
 nor sent such a courteous reply to the letter Yoba 
 had brought. For Simlick's face was cruel, vin- 
 dictive, even murderous. 
 
 " How much do I owe Mr. Paul Bedford ? " 
 Simlick went on, for Yoba was yet half a mile 
 distant. " One for interfering in the case of 
 Bert Vernon," and he tapped the revolver sig- 
 nificantly. " Another for attempting to entrap 
 Judith with his claim of being a relation of hers. 
 Another for rufriing me in that G. S. and W. deal, 
 when I lost every penny I could beg, borrow, or 
 steal. Another for putting detectives on my track, 
 who nearly nabbed me in Boston. Four in all. 
 And Yoba will do the rest. I wonder what be- 
 came of Judith ? But, of course, she went South. 
 Perhaps I " 
 
 Mr. Simlick returned to his place on the bench, 
 where Yoba found him a few minutes later, smok- 
 ing a short briar pipe, apparently at peace with 
 himself and every one else. As he read Paul 
 Bedford's letter, a hard, bitter smile might have 
 been seen on his face; then he went inside the 
 hut to prepare for his appointment at the station- 
 master's office. 
 
 It must be confessed that Paul Bedford awaited 
 with some impatience the arrival of Mr. Simlick, 
 for his curiosity had been aroused, not only by 
 the letter received through Yoba, but by the in-
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 257 
 
 terest which Judith manifested in his coming. In 
 the early evening Judith came out of her room, 
 none the worse, seemingly, for her fainting-spell 
 at the dinner-table. Indeed, she appeared better 
 and more light-hearted than for several days, and, 
 when Miss Milltrum playfully reminded Paul of 
 the possibilities involved in his interview with 
 Mr. Simlick, Judith insisted on his bringing back 
 a full description of the mysterious miner. 
 
 " Has Maud made out that list? " Paul asked. 
 
 " I used up all the writing-paper in the desk, 
 and then had merely started." 
 
 " There was only a half-sheet of note-paper to 
 begin with," Mr. Milltrum said, slyly. 
 
 " P e gy must have taken it, then ; there was a 
 ream on the desk this morning," Paul remarked, 
 rising from his chair. 
 
 " I did, for I wanted to prepare a list for ' the 
 party of the second part.' That is the proper 
 phrase, Uncle Lewis ? " 
 
 " As correct, my dear, as though you had made 
 a study of ' Coke upon Blackstone.' ' 
 
 " As it isn't every day one can have a husband 
 made to order, and as Uncle Lewis has promised 
 to pay all charges, I have gone in for the real 
 thing. He must be at least six feet, with light 
 hair, blue eyes, beard and mustache a la Alfred 
 the Great; not stout nor inclined to it, and with 
 that benign expression seen in pictures of certain 
 famous martyrs,"
 
 258 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " That martyr-like expression would be sure to 
 come later, Peggy." 
 
 "Uncle Lewis!" 
 
 " I mean the chastening influence the wife 
 usually exerts on the husband. Have you never 
 noticed the patient, pleading, please-excuse-me 
 look, on the faces of men as they pass you 
 on the street? I refer to married men, of 
 course." 
 
 " And have you never noticed the pale, weary, 
 worn-out, and ready-to-die look on the faces of 
 the women who* pass you on the street ? " 
 
 " You refer to the man-hunters ? " 
 
 " No, I don't, Uncle Lewis. I refer to the noble 
 army of martyrs who have undertaken the fearful 
 task of redeeming man from destruction, and 
 crowning his years with gladness." 
 
 " There speaks my brave and valiant sister. 
 Peggy, I am proud of you. The man who comes 
 down upon you like a wolf on the fold will 
 find " 
 
 " No spring lamb ; a rather unkind remark, 
 Maud, however truthful." 
 
 " Will find a crabbed, cranky, crotchety old 
 uncle, from whom the wolf will turn away with 
 terror." 
 
 " In that case I will have saved the wolf from 
 things he little imagined, Maud. Later, when he 
 knows what I know, he will return with a heart 
 bursting with gratitude."
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 259 
 
 " As Mr. Simlick is likely to do next week or 
 next year? " 
 
 " Now Peggy, I have promised to help you 
 all I can. But I dread the strain on my con- 
 science." 
 
 " You have reason to. An article unused for 
 so long is liable to give way." 
 
 " Give it up, Mr. Milltrum, and come with me," 
 Paul said, laughingly. " We mustn't keep the 
 wolf waiting." 
 
 When Paul, with Mr. Milltrum, entered the 
 station-master's office, he found a, burly-looking 
 man rather above the average height, whose face 
 was almost hidden by a thick black beard, and 
 whose hair, uncropped and scraggy, bulged out 
 under his slouched hat. A pair of smoked glasses, 
 large enough to completely shadow his eyes, added 
 to the strangeness of his appearance, and at the 
 first glance he impressed Paul as a cross between 
 an Armenian peddler and a Gay Head Indian. 
 Though the evening was warm he wore a heavy 
 reefer turned up at the collar, and riding-boots 
 that reached above his knees. 
 
 " My name is Simlick," he said in a heavy 
 guttural voice, turning to Paul. " May I ask 
 which of you gentlemen is Mr. Paul Bedford ? " 
 
 " I am," Paul answered, and would have ex- 
 tended his hand, but he saw that Mr. Simlick's 
 hands were occupied, one with a riding-whip, and 
 the other with a roll of papers. " This is Mr.
 
 260 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Milltrum," Paul continued, " the head of the firm 
 with which I am connected." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum bowed courteously. Mr. Simlick 
 merely nodded. 
 
 " I have some maps and deeds here," Mr. Sim- 
 lick said, going to the table where the station-mas- 
 ter had placed a lamp. 
 
 " Ours, I regret to say, are in New York," Paul 
 replied, " but yours will doubtless serve for pres- 
 ent purposes." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum, not caring to trouble himself 
 with the tiresome details involved in a careful 
 study of mining-maps, lit a cigar, and, taking the 
 only comfortable chair in the place, smoked con- 
 tentedly, knowing that Paul would attend to all 
 that was necessary. Still he was considerably 
 interested in Mr. Simlick. He wondered where 
 he came from, why he had settled in Nevada, and 
 how he could content himself with the rough life 
 of a mining-camp. Though his voice was harsh, 
 and his manners rude, the keen eyes of Mr. Mill- 
 trum detected signs of a former condition vastly 
 different from this brawling, boorish settlement. 
 
 Quietly smoking, he looked at the two men 
 bending over the table, and he contrasted the one 
 with the other. Paul was clean shaven, his bright, 
 intelligent face thrown into bold relief by the lamp 
 near which he stood ; the other hairy as an Esau, 
 with almost nothing of his face visible, even his 
 eyes hidden under the dark glasses; the one
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 261 
 
 speaking in low but decisive tones, his meaning 
 clear and definite as language could impart; the 
 other shaggy in speech as in appearance, and at 
 times vague and shambling; the one laying a 
 strong but shapely hand on the map, tracing lines 
 more accurately than a drawing-master; the other 
 making his corrections with a hand coarse and 
 hardened as that of a street laborer. Yet there 
 was something about Mr. Simlick which seemed 
 familiar. What it was he could not tell. As- 
 suredly not his voice, for it was foreign; and 
 he could well believe the statement of the station- 
 master about Simlick's parents being Austrians. 
 His bearing, too, was not that of a New Yorker, 
 nor of Chicago either; for Mr. Milltrum was too 
 well acquainted with both of these cities not to 
 recognize their marks. Still he could not shake 
 off the impression of having seen Mr. Simlick 
 before. But where? In vain he ransacked his 
 memory, going over places and people, likely and 
 unlikely, recalling as best he could almost every 
 man of his acquaintance. The feeling, however, 
 remained, and the more improbable it seemed, 
 the more positive he became. Seeing that the 
 interview was likely to continue longer than 
 Mr. Simlick had suggested in his letter, Mr. Mill- 
 trum got up from his comfortable chair and 
 said: 
 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen, I will finish my cigar 
 out-of-doors. It is warm in this office."
 
 262 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Without waiting for a reply he went out, mean- 
 ing to walk up and down the deserted platform, 
 and thus work off some of his perplexity. But to 
 his surprise he saw Yoba sitting on the station 
 truck, his eyes brighter even than in the daytime. 
 It was now almost night, but the summer light 
 had not all left the sky. Mr. Milltrum would have 
 spoken, but Yoba signed to him in such a way 
 that he instinctively waved his hand in reply. 
 Then Yoba beckoned him away from the office 
 window to the end of the platform, Mr. Milltrum 
 following with "no little curiosity. It must be con- 
 fessed that Mr. Milltrum was startled when he 
 saw Yoba take a revolver from his belt, and point 
 it toward the window of the office where Mr. 
 Simlick and Paul Bedford were holding their 
 conference. But Yoba did not fire the revolver; 
 he handed it instead to Mr. Milltrum, who took 
 it somewhat gingerly, such things not being in his 
 line. Yoba then led him back to the office win- 
 dow, and, after making signs which Mr. Milltrum 
 interpreted as an appeal for silence, raised Mr. 
 Milltrum's hand and so directed it that the re- 
 volver covered Paul Bedford. In another instant, 
 before he had the faintest inkling of Yoba's mean- 
 ing, the dwarf was leading him down the platform 
 to the place they had just left. By this time a 
 dim sense of Yoba's purpose was beginning to 
 come upon Mr. Milltrum. Evidently a warning 
 was intended. Some one had murderous designs
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 263 
 
 on Paul Bedford. Yoba's pantomime now began 
 to explain itself. But why was he so fearful of 
 Mr. Milltrum's voice reaching Mr. Simlick? 
 Was it against Simlick that Yoba would fain 
 warn Mr. Milltrum? For a few moments Mr. 
 Milltrum did some rapid thinking. The cool, 
 practised man of the Stock Exchange, accustomed 
 to emergencies, sometimes having to decide the 
 most serious matters in the twinkling of an eye, 
 was rarely at a loss to know the right thing to 
 do. He remembered that Yoba, though unable 
 to speak, could hear and understand, so he in- 
 stantly thought of a plan by which he could 
 communicate with him. 
 
 Going over to Yoba and speaking in a low 
 tone, he said : 
 
 " If you understand what I say give me your 
 hand." 
 
 Immediately Yoba's hand was in his. 
 
 " When I ask you a question, and you want to 
 say yes, open your hand. You understand? " 
 
 The hand was at once opened. 
 
 " And when I ask you another question and 
 you want to say no, shut your hand, so." 
 
 Yoba's big black hand doubled up. 
 
 " Now, does any one mean to shoot Mr. Paul 
 Bedford?" 
 
 Yoba quickly opened his hand. 
 
 " Some one intends to kill him ? " 
 
 The hand remained open.
 
 264 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Will it be safe for Mr. Bedford to go with 
 Mr. Simlick to-morrow ? " 
 
 The hand was clenched. 
 
 " Does Mr. Simlick know anything of the 
 matter ? " 
 
 Yoba folded his arms. 
 
 " You won't answer that question ? " 
 
 Once more the hand was tightly shut. 
 
 " Is Mr. Simlick a good master to you ? " 
 
 The hand opened widely. 
 
 " Would you be willing to leave his service ? " 
 
 The hand was shut. 
 
 " If I go with Mr. Bedford to-morrow will it 
 save him? " 
 
 The hand remained shut. 
 
 " Then we are not to go near the mines nor 
 examine the property ? " 
 
 The hand was now clenched. 
 
 "Did you come here specially to warn me?" 
 
 Immediately the hand opened, every finger 
 stretched to its limit. 
 
 " Does Mr. Simlick know you are here ? " 
 
 The hand shut again. 
 
 Mr. Milltrum had now discovered two things : 
 that an attempt would be made on Paul Bedford's 
 life if a suitable opportunity could be found, and 
 that in some way Mr. Simlick was a party to this 
 infamy. But in his anger at the treachery of Mr. 
 Simlick, he did not forget the heroic service just 
 rendered by Yoba. What motive prompted the
 
 A CONFERENCE AT THE STATION 265 
 
 poor fellow to render this service he could not 
 imagine. That he should tramp all these weary 
 miles on a hot sultry night, to warn the unsus- 
 pecting travellers of Paul Bedford's danger, filled 
 Mr. Milltrum with amazement. He knew that 
 Yoba was not actuated by a sordid hope of re- 
 ward. Something far deeper had stirred his 
 soul. Little did Mr. Milltrum imagine that his 
 own friendly greeting of the hapless Yoba, when 
 a few hours before he had extended his hand 
 in silent sympathy, had led to this result. 
 
 Taking a card from his pocket he gave it to 
 Yoba, saying at the same time : 
 
 " If you ever need a friend come to me," then 
 extending his hand once more he bade him 
 good-by. 
 
 Again Yoba placed Mr. Milltrum's hand on his 
 head, then he reverently touched it with his lips, 
 and in a moment had disappeared.
 
 XI. 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION 
 
 1 AUL BEDFORD found, as he carefully 
 studied Mr. Simlick's maps, that several very 
 important questions were involved, some of them 
 more serious than he had been led to expect. 
 Under ordinary circumstances a little strip of 
 barren soil is not a matter of special consequence, 
 and the boundary which marks off one property 
 from another has no particular meaning. But 
 when the line of division relates to silver mines, 
 and may result in making one man rich at the 
 expense of another, a proper adjustment is most 
 desirable. In this case, Paul, while willing to 
 concede that Mr. Simlick had certain claims and 
 rights, insisted that the Milltrum properties had 
 still larger claims and rights, and of much higher 
 legal value. 
 
 " The only way to settle it, then, is for you to 
 visit the property. If you wish, I will arrange 
 with our surveyor. He can go over the ground 
 with us. What say you? " 
 
 266
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION 267 
 
 It was Mr. Simlick who made this proposition, 
 rolling up the maps and papers as he spoke. 
 
 " I had other plans for to-morrow," Paul 
 answered, lighting his cigar at the table lamp, 
 " but perhaps it can be arranged." 
 
 Just then Mr. Milltrum came in, and Paul 
 asked him if time could be given to a personal 
 investigation of the matters under dispute. 
 
 " I wouldn't waste two minutes on it," Mr. 
 Milltrum said, decisively. "What is the use? 
 Our maps and deeds are in New York. There 
 is nothing to guide us here except the papers Mr. 
 Simlick has shown you to-night. If you can't 
 reach an agreement now, where you have every- 
 thing before your eyes, you certainly won't reach 
 one to-morrow riding over a country which has 
 neither fence nor wall, and where no visible 
 boundary exists." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum spoke positively. There was even 
 a ring of authority in his voice. 
 
 For this moment he was the senior partner. 
 Generally he allowed Paul full swing. But occa- 
 sionally he took the quarter-deck, and when he 
 did Paul touched his cap respectfully. 
 
 " All right," Mr. Simlick said, ungraciously. 
 " If there is trouble afterwards, don't blame me. 
 One of these days I intend to sell out to a syndi- 
 cate now being formed in New York. You may 
 find settlement more difficult then." Mr. Sim- 
 lick's smile was not alluring at that moment.
 
 268 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Evidently he resented Mr. Milltrum's interfer- 
 ence. 
 
 " I don't care for all the syndicates between 
 here and Patagonia," Mr. Milltrum said, still on 
 the quarter-deck, and with the trumpet at his 
 mouth. 
 
 " Men have said that before and have been 
 sorry enough for it afterwards," Mr. Simlick said, 
 sneeringly. 
 
 " Very likely, only in this instance the syndicate 
 will do whatever weeping has to be done." 
 
 Paul had never seen Mr. Milltrum so stirred 
 up over, what seemed to him, a kindly proposal 
 on the part of Mr. Simlick. Mr. Milltrum rarely 
 allowed business matters to disturb him. Occa- 
 sionally he would stamp and storm, but only at 
 some treacherous, underhand scheme, which 
 aroused all the anger of which he was capable. 
 
 " I don't think you quite understand Mr. Sim- 
 lick's suggestion," Paul said, pleasantly. 
 
 " Yes, I do. I understand it thoroughly. A 
 healthy suggestion it is, too. You, the representa- 
 tive of a firm which has lately made large pur- 
 chases of mining property, are asked to go 
 wandering through a country hardly more than 
 half-savage, and where there is dispute concern- 
 ing the property you claim. The thing is not to 
 be thought of." 
 
 " We are not quite so lawless as you imagine," 
 Mr. Simlick said, angrily.
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION 269 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but the temptation to refer the 
 question of ownership to the chance shot of a 
 revolver might prove too much for some men." 
 
 " You forget that Mr. Bedford would be under 
 my protection," Mr. Simlick said, now blazing 
 with anger. 
 
 " No, I don't," Mr. Milltrum almost shouted, 
 thinking of Yoba's warning. 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ? " 
 
 " Just what I have said, sir." 
 
 The two men were now within reaching dis- 
 tance of each other, each looking defiantly into the 
 other's face. For a moment it seemed as if 
 Simlick would throw himself upon Mr. Milltrum, 
 for he was at a point of fury bordering upon mad- 
 ness, but for some reason he hesitated, and then 
 turning contemptuously, walked out of the little 
 office. Paul was both amazed and mortified. 
 Mr. Milltrum's anger seemed without excuse. 
 To treat a friendly proposition in this high- 
 handed way was positively insulting. Never be- 
 fore had he known Mr. Milltrum to be guilty of 
 such discourtesy. He was therefore indignant, 
 and silently chewed the end of his cigar, not dar- 
 ing to speak lest he give vent to something of his 
 feeling. Neither did Mr. Milltrum say anything. 
 Had he been a graven image he could not have 
 stood more silent, until he heard the clatter of 
 horse's hoofs coming up the road from the wagon- 
 shed, and then die away in the distance.
 
 270 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " We are much obliged for the use of your 
 office," he said to the station-master. " Kindly 
 smoke with me/' taking out of his pocket an 
 envelope prepared for the occasion. 
 
 Going back to the car, Mr. Milltrum told 
 Paul of Yoba's mysterious warning. Paul was 
 astounded. That a disputed claim could lead to 
 such results seemed incomprehensible. He had 
 always known that mining communities were 
 more or less indifferent to court decrees and legal 
 settlements, but for a man to be lured to his death 
 under the pretence of adjusting a dispute revealed 
 a condition at which he stood aghast. They both 
 agreed, however, not to say anything of the 
 matter, but to make some excuse for leaving 
 Virginia by the first train in the morning to which 
 their car could be attached. 
 
 The hour spent by Paul and Mr. Milltrum in 
 the station-master's office was one of intolerable 
 agony to Judith. Most of the time she was in 
 her room, where with haggard face, burning 
 eyes, clenched hands, she looked the picture of 
 wretchedness and despair. More than once she 
 buried her head in the couch pillows, lest her 
 sighs and gasps might be heard by Miss Milltrum 
 or Maud. Then, under her breath, she would 
 mutter : 
 
 " I will not ! I will not ! I don't care what the 
 consequences are." 
 
 But, immediately following these suppressed
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION 271 
 
 cries, she would shiver from head to foot, as 
 though affected by a sudden chill. Again she 
 would softly whisper: 
 
 " It cannot be. It is merely a wild, foolish 
 notion. Why do I distress myself in this silly 
 way?" 
 
 A more quiet expression would then come upon 
 her face, and, going to the mirror, she would 
 smile at herself and at the notions which had so 
 distressed her. This feeling, though, soon passed 
 away, and the tumult began anew. 
 
 "What if it should be? My God, just think 
 of it ! Oh, why did we ever come to this wretched 
 place? And why did that miserable dwarf come 
 with a letter for Paul? Perhaps if I had seen 
 the letter I could then have told. But I did not 
 dare to ask Paul for it lest oh, I shall go mad 
 unless they come back soon." 
 
 Once more she would start from her chair, and, 
 like a caged tigress, walk to and fro in the little 
 room. 
 
 "Ah! I hear steps on the road. They are 
 coming this way. Now they are almost at the car. 
 I will wait here and listen." 
 
 "Well, what about the wolf?" Maud asked, 
 when Mr. Milltrum came in. 
 
 How Judith strained her ears, not only to hear 
 his reply, but to catch the tone of his voice ! 
 
 "The wolf has gone. I mentioned Peggy's 
 name to him, called his attention to the long list
 
 272 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 of her virtues, offered him half of my kingdom 
 as a wedding-portion, and made the most elo- 
 quent plea of my life, but he refused pointblank. 
 I am afraid your last chance is gone, Peggy." 
 
 " Was he tall and fair, as I insisted on ? " 
 
 " No, he was dumpy and black." 
 
 " Had he blue eyes and a King Alfred beard ? " 
 
 " His eyes were goggled, and he had beard 
 enough for a ship-load of pirates." 
 
 " Had he a rich, expressive voice, with a tender 
 Romeo accent? " 
 
 " He had a voice like an animated beer barrel, 
 and an accent of matted hair and cowhide 
 boots." 
 
 " My romance, then, is over. But I am very 
 grateful to you, Uncle Lewis. Of course I can- 
 not but feel distressed at the way things have 
 turned out. But I must submit." 
 
 " Where is Judith ? " Paul asked, on coming 
 in and not seeing her with the others. 
 
 " Here, sir," she answered, playfully, stepping 
 out from her room with a light on her face which 
 transfigured it, and a glow in her eyes that made 
 them shine as stars in an Oriental sky. How 
 different from the Judith of an hour ago! No 
 care now to mar her glorious beauty. No marks 
 of fear or terror distorting her features so that 
 they were haggard and drawn. With easy grace 
 she dropped into a chair, and listened eagerly to 
 Paul's description of Mr. Simlick. Naturally
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION 273 
 Paul exaggerated his portrayal of the mysterious 
 miner, and, before he had half-finished his recital, 
 Judith saw, as in a picture, a stout, squatty for- 
 eigner, coarse of face, clumsy of figure, with a 
 scraggy beard; a blear-eyed, unkempt creature, 
 without even the most distant resemblance to the 
 one whose face had haunted her since Yoba's 
 appearance earlier in the day. 
 
 " You have evidently recovered from the effects 
 of the heat," Paul remarked, looking admiringly 
 at Judith, " though this is by no means a North 
 Pole atmosphere. Bates, my good fellow, can't 
 we have a little more air? " 
 
 " Everything is open, sir," Bates answered, re- 
 spectfully. 
 
 " Wrestling with the wolf, Paul, has over- 
 heated you. Peggy, I think, owes you some com- 
 pensation. I heard her, a little while ago, lay 
 her commands on the cook. She probably ex- 
 pected the wolf to return with you, and, in his 
 honor, arranged for a banquet." 
 
 "Judith is speaking for herself, Paul. She 
 was so distressed at dinner-time, when there 
 seemed a probability of my leaving her, that she 
 didn't eat a morsel. Hence this solicitude for your 
 comfort." 
 
 " In this case, I must take sides with Judith. 
 Peggy has, to my certain knowledge, been hob- 
 nobbing with the cook. And that she expected 
 the wolf I am almost positive. When was Peggy
 
 274 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 so arrayed? When did Peggy so anxiously con- 
 sult the mirror in her dressing-room? Peggy, 
 my dear, bring on your banquet. And give 
 Judith the wolf's portion. Aunt Maria used to 
 say, ' There is no cure for trouble like constant 
 eating,' and, as I am in serious trouble, the best 
 thing under the circumstances is to apply the 
 remedy." 
 
 Peggy had a genius for little suppers, and 
 almost every evening arranged a surprise of some 
 sort. Soon, therefore, the company were enjoy- 
 ing themselves to their heart's content, and the 
 clatter of dishes, the clink of glasses, ripples of 
 laughter, and flashes of wit filled up what was 
 left of the evening. Judith was simply irresisti- 
 ble. She mimicked, and she drawled; she 
 twanged on the banjo, accompanying herself in 
 some plantation melodies; she so reproduced the 
 negro of her girlish days that they could see his 
 rolling eyes, his opulent smile, and hear his self- 
 appreciative chuckle. It may have been the wine, 
 for Judith sipped, unthinkingly possibly, some 
 iced champagne ; but whatever the cause, she was 
 in a daring, exultant mood, and fairly revelled in 
 the excitement of the hour. 
 
 Before going to his room Mr. Milltrum spoke 
 to the car conductor of the change in his plans, 
 and requested him to connect with the first south- 
 bound train, as the party intended going to Los 
 Angeles, if possible.
 
 AN INTERRUPTED EXCURSION 275 
 
 Early next morning the car was coupled to 
 a southern express, and when Judith looked out 
 of her window, Virginia had disappeared in the 
 distance.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 MIRIAM
 
 O: 
 
 I. 
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 
 
 F NE Sunday morning early in June, three 
 years after his wedding-tour in Nevada, Paul 
 Bedford came out of the Grand Hotel on the 
 Boulevard de Capucines, and stood for some 
 minutes watching the streams of people as they 
 went by. Being comparatively familiar with 
 Paris, Paul could shrewdly guess from the appear- 
 ance of many in the throng as to their probable 
 destination. Some were en route to the suburbs, 
 Vincennes, St. Germain, Versailles, evidently bent 
 on a day's picnic in the woods, a pleasure ever 
 dear to young French hearts. Others, less ambi- 
 tious in their desires, probably with less money 
 in their pockets, hastened to the nearest street-car 
 line connecting with the Bois de Boulogne. Nor 
 was the pretty little Pare de Monceaux in danger 
 of desertion, judging by the groups who turned 
 off toward the Boulevard Haussman. A laugh- 
 ing, chatting, eager, vivacious company they 
 surely were, many of them in the spring-time of 
 life, and seemingly as free of care or shadow as 
 279
 
 280 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the sky which in deep unsullied blue arched over 
 their heads. 
 
 Paul could not forbear an envious sigh when 
 he saw a group of light-hearted students, easy, 
 careless, debonair, swinging along in all the joy 
 and daring of youth. More than once he found 
 himself watching with almost pathetic interest 
 those whom he suspected were lovers ; the young 
 man proudly conscious, and supremely happy in 
 the new life with which his own was now blend- 
 ing; the young woman graceful, coquettish, a 
 glad light shining on her face. Among the gaily 
 dressed throngs he would see at times a woman 
 clad in deep mourning, some mother going to the 
 cemetery of Montmartre, or Pere la Chaise, or a 
 daughter with an offering of flowers for her 
 mother's grave. 
 
 A few old people, whose garments betokened 
 poverty, walked slowly in the throng, and as Paul 
 watched them cross the wide boulevard he 
 imagined they were going to the Church of the 
 Madeleine, almost within bow-shot of where he 
 was standing. 
 
 Having no definite plan for the morning, Paul 
 sauntered easily along to the Rue Royale, where 
 he paused a few minutes, looking at the Church 
 of the Madeleine, whose splendid doors stood 
 invitingly open, and from which could be heard 
 the strains of the " Adeste Fideles " ascending 
 to the God of all churches and of all nations. The
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 281 
 
 music of this noble hymn deeply affected Paul. 
 He remembered that it was a special favorite with 
 Miriam, and he could almost hear her sing : 
 " Oh, come all ye people, joyful and triumphant ! " 
 
 Walking slowly and with a heart crowded with 
 tender memories, he reached the broad steps of 
 the church, and would soon have taken his place 
 among the worshippers, when he remembered that 
 Doctor Keithburn had been announced to preach 
 at the American Chapel on the Rue de Berri, and 
 that he had partly promised to meet him there. 
 
 Looking at his watch, he found that it was com- 
 paratively early, so he lit a cigar and strolled 
 along, his thoughts meanwhile going back to the 
 time when he first met Doctor Keithburn. How 
 vividly he recalled that eventful day in the Saxby 
 parlor at Pelham, when with Miriam leaning 
 heavily on his arm he heard Doctor Keithburn 
 say, " I now pronounce you husband and wife," 
 and the rich, mellow tones of the clergyman 
 thrilled mysteriously in Paul's heart. And that 
 look on Miriam's face! Could he ever forget it? 
 Or the love that shone from her eyes as they 
 eagerly sought his? Or the sigh of delicious 
 content with which she softly whispered, " I am 
 yours now, Paul, yours, yours " ? Or the terrible 
 weeks that followed, when all that skill could sug- 
 gest or wealth procure, or love make possible, 
 were spent in vain? 
 
 Paul Bedford went back over those awful days,
 
 282 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 when Miriam was torn from his arms, her bridal 
 robe changed into a shroud, and her sweet face 
 stilled into a sleep from which there is no waking. 
 The birds were singing in the trees overhead, the 
 children were playing in the grass at his feet, the 
 flowers were rilling the air with a fragrance 
 sweeter than the breath of angels, the sun was 
 shining with all the beauty of a Parisian summer 
 morn, but he was unconscious of either flowers 
 or songs; his thoughts were far away; his eyes 
 were looking into those of Miriam ; his ears were 
 listening to her voice; in some mysterious way 
 his spirit was communing with her spirit, and he 
 felt, as never before, that she was touching him 
 with unseen hands. Nine years she had been 
 in the valley of silence, the dim, voiceless valley, 
 into whose shadows he had so often looked with 
 longing eyes, hoping that he might discern some- 
 thing of her gracious form or feel the touch of 
 her loving hand. But no form had come to him ; 
 no voice had spoken to him ; no hand had minis- 
 tered to him. But now it would seem as though 
 she had escaped from her prison-house of mystery, 
 and was encompassing him about with the radi- 
 ancy of her presence/ 
 
 It lacked fully fifteen minutes of the appointed 
 time for service when Paul reached the American 
 Chapel on the Rue de Berri, but he went in and 
 sat down, taking a seat on the side not far from 
 the door.
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 283 
 
 Busy with his own thoughts, and in a mood 
 which craved seclusion, he gave little heed to 
 the groups that came in, though most of them 
 were those of his own land. Nor did he take 
 much interest in the opening service, preferring 
 rather the emotions which had come to him while 
 walking to the chapel. But he eagerly followed 
 the movements of Doctor Keithburn, when he 
 saw him enter the pulpit, and he listened intently 
 to his discourse. 
 
 During the singing of the closing hymn, Paul 
 glanced at the congregation, in which he recog- 
 nized a number of familiar faces, when to his 
 amazement, in a pew almost directly across the 
 aisle, he saw Miriam! Miriam Saxby! Never 
 was a man more startled. Only by a supreme 
 effort could he refrain from calling her by name. 
 His face became deadly pale. His eyes flamed 
 with wonder. Then a faintness came upon him, 
 and he would have fallen to the floor, had he not 
 rested his hands on the back of the pew immedi- 
 ately in front of where he stood. Again and 
 again he looked at the mysterious figure across 
 the aisle, only to find the likeness even more start- 
 ling. The same height, the same shapely head, 
 the same dainty figure, and then, when she 
 turned slightly, giving him a clearer view of her 
 face, he saw Miriam's features reproduced with 
 such exactness that he was utterly bewildered. 
 As in a dream he heard Doctor Keithburn pro-
 
 284. THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 nounce the benediction, and felt a movement on 
 the part of the congregation, but he had no 
 thought or care for anything or any one, save the 
 Miriam whom he had loved and lost nine years 
 before. He resolved to wait and allow the con- 
 gregation to pass out, so that when she should 
 come down the aisle toward the light he might 
 have opportunity of observing her closely. 
 
 How slowly the congregation moved! Would 
 those chattering tourists and reunited parties ever 
 leave the aisles? How senseless the inquiries 
 they were making one of the other ! Could they 
 not defer their conversation, or hold it somewhere 
 else? Every moment seemed an age to Paul 
 Bedford. His soul was in a fever of impatience 
 and desire. But at length the mysterious stranger 
 came from her pew to the aisle, and his heart 
 almost ceased beating. For there stood Miriam 
 just as he had seen her when he first went to 
 Pelham. There were the dark eyes full of hidden 
 fire; the expressive face glowing with life and 
 light; the lips curved with rare delicacy, and 
 even the hair arranged as in the other days. As 
 though these were not enough, the costume was 
 as quaint and simple as of yore, so that nothing 
 was lacking to make the resemblance complete. 
 
 " What does it all mean ? Has Miriam really 
 come back again? Can this be a reincarnation? 
 May the dead after a time revisit the earth and 
 resume the life they once lived in the flesh ? "
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 285 
 
 These were among the questions which Paul 
 asked himself as he watched what seemed to him 
 a vision pass slowly down the aisle, and pause 
 for a moment or two at the pew where he was 
 standing. The pause, however, was not intended ; 
 but for a short space the aisle was crowded with 
 a party of friends who had just discovered each 
 other in the chapel. Nevertheless that was a seri- 
 ous pause; for Paul looked intently at the 
 stranger who had so attracted him; and the 
 stranger looked intently at Paul ; the one because 
 of the resemblance to the dead, the other because 
 of some resemblance to the living. And then, in- 
 credible as it may seem, each flashed upon the 
 other a look of recognition, perhaps less a look 
 of definite recognition than of wonder and sur- 
 prise. 
 
 Just at that moment Doctor Keithburn hurried 
 down the aisle, for he had seen Paul Bedford in 
 the congregation, and coming to his pew said 
 in his hearty, cordial way: 
 
 " I am very glad to see you, Mr. Bedford. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Saxby are at the ' Continental,' ' 
 and have strictly enjoined me not to return with- 
 out you. Mrs. Saxby, you know, is not very 
 well, and was unable to attend service this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 Doctor Keithburn then went on to speak of 
 other things, and being wholly absorbed in his 
 conversation with Paul Bedford, whom he had
 
 286 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 not seen for some years, failed to observe a young 
 lady then moving slowly toward the door. But 
 Paul's eyes followed her with intense interest, for 
 every motion suggested Miriam. And each in- 
 stant made the resemblance more positive. Had 
 Miriam not died in his arms, and had he not 
 kissed her sweet, dead face, he would have been 
 forced to believe that a horrible deception had 
 been resorted to, of which he had been made the 
 victim. No wonder, therefore, that he looked 
 after her utterly bewildered and mystified. At 
 the vestibule door she met some friends who de- 
 tained her a few moments, which gave her an 
 opportunity of looking back at the tall, handsome 
 man, then speaking with Doctor Keithburn, whose 
 presence seemed so familiar to her, and yet over 
 whom her memory had struggled in vain. 
 
 Then she passed out from the chapel, her mind 
 as confused and perplexed as that of Paul 
 Bedford. 
 
 " I had a letter from Judith this morning," 
 Miss Milltrum said to Paul, on his return from 
 visiting Mr. and Mrs. Saxby, with whom he had 
 spent the afternoon. 
 
 " Yes ? " he answered, absently. 
 
 " She has taken the Llandoff Cottage and ex- 
 pects to spend the summer at Newport." 
 
 " Then she has changed her plans ? " 
 
 " Evidently."
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 287 
 
 " Mrs. Helmsley, I presume, will go with her 
 to Newport ? " 
 
 :< Yes, she says so in her letter." 
 
 " I think the arrangement a capital one. Judith 
 likes Newport, and she is not partial to travelling. 
 Of course " 
 
 Paul might have said more, for he allowed him- 
 self to speak freely with Miss Milltrum, but just 
 then Maud came in, followed a moment or two 
 later by Mr. Milltrum. 
 
 After a time Judith's letter was again referred 
 to, and caused various comments and reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 The only one of the party, however, who ex- 
 pressed either surprise or displeasure at the new 
 turn of affairs was Mr. Milltrum. And he, as 
 the conversation proceeded, warmed up to the 
 point of plain, unvarnished anger. 
 
 " When people make plans in which the com- 
 fort and convenience of their friends are involved, 
 they should at least try to carry them out. We 
 know, of course, that Paul had to leave New York 
 sooner than he intended. And we also know that 
 our trip was a hurried affair, but under the cir- 
 cumstances what else could we do? It isn't every 
 day that England floats a loan, and it isn't every 
 firm that is cabled from Downing Street. But 
 Judith promised to sail early in June, on the same 
 steamer with the Hortons, who were coming 
 direct to Paris. Now everything is turned topsy-
 
 288 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 turvy. This means, I suppose, a new programme 
 from top to bottom." 
 
 " Not at all," Paul answered, quietly. " I see 
 no reason whatever for any change in our 
 plans." 
 
 " You don't ? " Mr. Milltrum said, excitedly. 
 
 " No ; why should there be ? Judith has secured 
 very desirable accommodations at Newport. You 
 remember the Llandoff Cottage, Peggy, which 
 stands well up on the Bluffs and has a superb 
 water view? With Mrs. Helmsley and her other 
 friends there she is likely to have a most enjoy- 
 able season." There was not the faintest trace 
 of anger or disappointment in Paul's voice. Nor 
 was either manifest on his face. He discussed 
 the matter as calmly as he would a business propo- 
 sition in his office. If Judith elected to spend her 
 summer in Newport, preferring that to a trip 
 through Switzerland, surely she had the right of 
 choice. And now that her decision was made, 
 what need to treat it as an unsettled question ? 
 
 But Mr. Milltrum was not so philosophic. 
 Hence he argued at considerable length, and more 
 than once felt like rating Paul for allowing Judith 
 such unbounded liberty. 
 
 At this suggestion Paul merely smiled, and his 
 smile was so frank, and so free from everything 
 of bitterness, that Mr. Milltrum was forced to 
 smile in return. This ended the discussion, at 
 least so far as Paul was concerned, though it
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 289 
 
 must be admitted that the Milltrums talked it over 
 among themselves. 
 
 " I would like to give Judith a good shaking," 
 Maud said, a few hours later, when in the quiet 
 of her sister's room. 
 
 " It wouldn't do any good," Miss Milltrum re- 
 plied. 
 
 " It would do me good," Maud remarked, with 
 a touch of spitefulness in her voice. 
 
 " In that case the proceeding would have my 
 approval," Miss Milltrum responded, smilingly. 
 
 " But now, Peggy, in all seriousness, isn't this 
 last whim of Judith's enough to provoke a 
 saint?" 
 
 " I am not a saint, Maud, so I can't well answer 
 your question." 
 
 " No, I never heard of a Saint Peggy, though 
 I believe there was once a very pious Margaret, 
 but that was before your time. But about Judith, 
 I have a great notion to write and give her a 
 piece of my mind." 
 
 " Don't. Your mind can't afford to give itself 
 away so generously. Besides, Judith wouldn't 
 thank you." 
 
 " You are just as indifferent as Paul. He 
 doesn't seem to care what Judith does or where 
 she goes." 
 
 " Now, my dear, we have talked this all over 
 scores of times. And we know perfectly how 
 matters stand. We both felt at the time that Paul's
 
 290 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 marriage was a mistake. Of course, we couldn't 
 tell him so then, and it would be cruel to tell him 
 now. He married Judith simply because of a fool- 
 ish sense of obligation to Uncle Lewis. That was 
 wrong, very wrong, as I look at things. But 
 Paul has such chivalrous notions, and feels so 
 keenly all that Uncle Lewis has done for him, 
 that to marry Judith seemed to him the right thing 
 to do. He has never pretended to love Judith 
 as a husband is supposed to love his wife. And, 
 for that matter, she has made no pretence of lov- 
 ing him. If 'they are content, why should we 
 trouble ourselves? The less we meddle in their 
 affairs the better." 
 
 " But why doesn't she love him, and why 
 doesn't she try to make him love her? If I had 
 met a man like Paul Bedford twenty years ago, 
 and he had chosen me for his w r ife, I would have 
 idolized him, worshipped him, never willingly 
 have allowed him out of my sight, and compelled 
 him to love me in return." 
 
 " Yes, but Maud Milltrum and Judith Carreau 
 are of entirely different blood. Judith has a queer 
 strain in her. Remember how her mother treated 
 Uncle Lewis. And then think of her father. I 
 have always been sorry that Uncle Lewis became 
 her guardian. It was more romantic than wise. 
 And what could we do but give her a home, when 
 Uncle Lewis so urgently requested it? Only for 
 uncle's guardianship Judith might never have
 
 THE AMERICAN CHAPEL 291 
 
 met Paul, but I don't see how we can mend 
 matters now." 
 
 Miss Milltrum sighed as she finished speaking, 
 and there was a look of sadness on her face. She 
 sincerely pitied Paul, and at heart disliked Judith. 
 
 Often she found herself wondering what the 
 outcome would be. 
 
 " Of course we can't do anything, Peggy. 
 And that is the hard part of it. But it is a shame 
 that Paul's life should be spoiled in this way. 
 True, he never says anything, and one might live 
 under his roof for years without suspecting any 
 trouble, but we know that he must feel Judith's 
 utter indifference." 
 
 " Have you seen the Holbrooks ? " Miss Mill- 
 trum asked, abruptly, anxious to change the con- 
 versation. 
 
 " No ; when did they reach Paris ? I thought 
 they intended remaining in London." 
 
 " So they did, but Mrs. Holbrook was advised 
 to try the Swiss air. They are going to Inter- 
 laken." 
 
 " Then we are likely to meet them there." 
 
 "Yes; they have engaged rooms at the Vic- 
 toria, and expect to stay through July and Au- 
 gust." 
 
 "Did you see Mrs. Holbrook? How is she 
 looking? It is a wonder she didn't write to us, 
 for I told her in my last letter we were going to 
 Interlaken."
 
 292 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " I met Mrs. Holbrook at Saint Roch this 
 morning. She is looking better than when we 
 left New York. She intended writing you, but 
 was not certain of her plans." 
 
 " Where are they staying ? " 
 
 " At the Binda. I told her we would try and 
 call to-morrow." 
 
 " You didn't see Miriam ? " 
 
 " No ; Mrs. Holbrook said she had gone to the 
 American Chapel on the Rue de Berri." 
 
 " Where you should have gone, Peggy." 
 
 " Where you "should have gone, Maud." 
 
 Then they smiled pleasantly at each other, after 
 which Maud went to her room.
 
 II. 
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 
 
 _L HE Milltrums did not reach Interlaken until 
 late in July, for they travelled leisurely, and not 
 after the fashion of the modern tourist. Paul 
 Bedford, having been summoned to London, 
 where he was detained several days, was not with 
 the party when it arrived at the Victoria Hotel. 
 Mrs. Holbrook, however, had been advised con- 
 cerning the Milltrum plans, and gave the new 
 arrivals a most cordial welcome. She had also 
 made thoughtful provision for their comfort, an 
 arrangement which they appreciated on going to 
 their rooms. Where people are not stinted as to 
 money, and are likely to remain several weeks, 
 it is comparatively easy to secure both favors and 
 privileges from hotel managers. Hence the Mill- 
 trums were domiciled in one of the most desirable 
 suites in the Victoria, just across the hall and on 
 the same floor with the Holbrooks. 
 
 In the days of their early girlhood, Marea Eller- 
 ton, as she was then called, and Marjorie Mill- 
 trum lived on the same street, not far from Wash- 
 293
 
 294 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 ington Square, a fashionable region at that time. 
 Though outwardly with little in common, the 
 girls became strongly attached to each other, and 
 their friendship deepened as they grew older. 
 Marea was impressionable, sensitive, disposed 
 somewhat to visions and day-dreams, and, under 
 favorable conditions, might have developed into 
 an artist or a poet. But a certain handsome young 
 doctor appeared on the scene, when immediately 
 Marea's dreams took another form, and her 
 visions seemed to have a veritable incarnation. 
 And so it came to pass that one bright spring 
 morning Doctor Holbrook received his dainty and 
 really beautiful bride at the hands of her father, 
 and the Gothamites, who were bidden to the mar- 
 riage-feast, declared the match a most suitable 
 one in every way. Though far from being depend- 
 ent on his profession, Doctor Holbrook entered 
 into it with rare enthusiasm, and ere long estab- 
 lished for himself an enviable reputation. 
 
 But a man, however vigorous, cannot attend 
 patients all day and read laboriously half of the 
 night. There are limits and boundaries beyond 
 which no one can pass with impunity. But Doctor 
 Holbrook would not be warned. He saw a most 
 valuable discovery within reaching distance. To 
 gain that prize he was prepared to sacrifice well- 
 nigh everything. For this meant far more than 
 either fame or fortune. Not that he lightly held 
 either, but to relieve pain, to give men a fighting
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 295 
 
 chance for life, to remove from many homes the 
 shadow of death, suggested infinitely more to 
 Doctor Holbrook than the mere possession of 
 wealth. One night the tired brain gave way. 
 The weary body collapsed, and, when the morning 
 came, Mrs. Holbrook was a widow. Miriam, then 
 about fourteen years of age, though fully sensible 
 of the irreparable loss which had befallen her, 
 for her love for her father was almost an idol- 
 atry, realized that from henceforth she must be 
 her mother's guardian and protector. Instead of 
 the mother comforting the child, it was the child 
 who comforted the mother. People said it was 
 very strange, yet no one was surprised. For 
 Miriam w r as unlike any other child they had ever 
 known. Perhaps it was the result of her father's 
 training, or, more likely, the bent of her own 
 mind, but she had always been grave, dignified, 
 mature, and with a wisdom far beyond her years. 
 Soon, therefore, Mrs. Holbrook learned to de- 
 pend on Miriam's judgment, and to trust her in 
 matters rarely given to one so young. Favored 
 by nature in many ways; inheriting all of her 
 mother's beauty and much of her father's men- 
 tality; having an ample fortune as well, she 
 seemed indifferent to matrimonial possibilities, 
 and, when Paul Bedford first saw her in the 
 American Chapel on the Rue de Berri, she was 
 as heart-free as the innocent maiden of a poet's 
 dream.
 
 296 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 To Mr. Milltrum she took at once, finding him 
 a delightful companion, and for the first week 
 of his stay in Interlaken she chaperoned him 
 everywhere. One day they would sail as far as 
 Brienz, stopping long enough to explore the little 
 town. The next day they went up to the other 
 lake, landing at Thun, and making a brief visit; 
 another day they took the stage to Grindelwald, 
 where Mr. Milltrum insisted on seeing the ice 
 grotto, and doing other foolish things, for in 
 some respects he was as eager and as boyish as 
 when in his teens. 
 
 Every morning, soon after breakfast, they 
 would start off together, and many an envious 
 glance was given Mr. Milltrum by the young 
 men in the Victoria Hotel. And no wonder. 
 For a more trim, dainty young lady was not then 
 in Interlaken. Her touring costume was always 
 a simple affair, usually of tweed, and very unob- 
 trusive, just the garb adapted for the day, and for 
 the wearer as well. Then she had the myste- 
 rious grace of a high-born American girl, a grace 
 which is so distinctive as to be recognized any- 
 where. 
 
 Of course they talked about all sorts of things, 
 for Mr. Milltrum soon discovered that Miriam 
 had opinions and convictions somewhat out of the 
 ordinary. 
 
 One morning a gray, unsettled sky interfered 
 with a trip arranged the night before, so, rather
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 297 
 
 than go with the others, foraging through bric-a- 
 brac and curio shops, Miss Holbrook and Mr. 
 Milltrum climbed a hill some little distance from 
 the hotel, where a splendid view of the Jungfrau 
 could be obtained. For some time they watched 
 the mountains and sky battle with each other; 
 the sky attacking in fierce, whirling gusts, fol- 
 lowed by battalions of mist and cloud rushing 
 madly from the heavens; the mountains sullen 
 and defiant, then after a time breaking through 
 the enswathing host and lifting themselves 
 proudly into the light. One moment the Jungfrau 
 would be so covered with thick, fleecy folds that 
 not a trace of it was visible; then the next mo- 
 ment its massive outline would be revealed with 
 startling distinctness. 
 
 Turning from the mountain, where the mighty 
 conflict was raging, Miss Holbrook said : 
 
 " I have a feeling, Mr. Milltrum, that I have 
 been here before. So far as my immediate life is 
 concerned, this is my first visit to Interlaken, yet 
 I am not impressed with any special sense of 
 strangeness. How is it with you ? " 
 
 " Brand-new. Everything fresh from the mint. 
 Never was here before, never expect to be here 
 again." 
 
 There were times when as a matter-of-fact 
 philosopher Mr. Milltrum held first place. 
 
 " But have you never met people, strangers, I 
 mean, whom you were positive you had met
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 before ? You could not place them, nor definitely 
 recognize them, still you felt as if you had seen 
 them somewhere. Perhaps I am not making 
 myself clear." 
 
 " What you are saying is clear enough, but the 
 idea you are working on is somewhat misty. 
 Peggy, that is, my niece, Miss Milltrum, has a 
 crony who insists that this is her second life in 
 this world, but what her first life was she doesn't 
 say. My education, I am afraid, has been sadly 
 neglected, Miss Holbrook, despite the fact that 
 both Peggy and Maud have so kindly taken me 
 in hand." 
 
 " Well, let me give you an illustration of what 
 I mean. A few Sundays since I was in the 
 American Chapel in Paris, and there I saw a tall, 
 handsome man, of perhaps thirty or thirty-five 
 years of age. He sat on the same side not far 
 from the door, and in going out I passed 
 within touching distance of him. Now, I don't 
 know his name. To my certain knowledge I 
 never saw him before. And yet, when I looked 
 at him, there was something in me which insisted 
 on recognizing him, and, now don't laugh, I al- 
 most spoke to him when passing his pew." 
 
 " There is nothing remarkable in that. The 
 stranger reminded you of some one whom you 
 could not at that moment recall. You know 
 nearly every person we meet reminds us of some 
 other person, sometimes because of a resemblance
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 299 
 
 in feature, or more frequently through some trick 
 of manner or bearing." 
 
 " On general principles, Mr. Milltrum, you 
 are right, but in this case the general principles 
 did not avail. The recognition was not outward. 
 There was nothing familiar in the stranger's ap- 
 pearance. It was not a question of height, or size, 
 or feature. I have no relative or friend who bears 
 the slightest resemblance to the person of whom 
 I am now speaking. And yet I am absolutely 
 certain that I have met him somewhere, and not 
 only met him, but have known him intimately." 
 
 For once the shrewd, hard-headed Westerner, 
 whose life was usually so definite and practical, 
 seemed at a loss what to say. He could tell by 
 Miss Holbrook's serious air that she was not ro- 
 mancing or indulging in the dreams of a love- 
 lorn maiden. She spoke of the meeting in the 
 American Chapel so calmly, yet with such evident 
 conviction, that he could not reply lightly, nor 
 indulge in any pleasantry at her expense. There 
 was that on her face which forbade his treating 
 the affair as a jest. For she looked troubled. Her 
 eyes, generally so bright, were clouded, and there 
 was an anxious droop about her mouth, something 
 very unusual with her. He did not, therefore, 
 attempt any reply, but sat seemingly absorbed in 
 the battle between mountain and sky. 
 
 After a few moments' silence, Miss Holbrook 
 said, speaking even more seriously than before :
 
 300 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " The stranger recognized me. I could see 
 it in his face, and, when I was detained by some 
 people in the aisle, and had to stand at his pew 
 until they moved on, we looked at each other in 
 amazement. It was, indeed, Mr. Milltrum, a 
 most singular experience. And ever since, when 
 I have thought of it, which has been very often, 
 I assure you, I have wondered what it all meant." 
 
 Again Mr. Milltrum turned his eyes to the 
 mountains, and watched, with deepening interest, 
 the struggle which every moment was becoming 
 more fierce and'absorbing. Finally he said, with 
 a touch of lightness : 
 
 " Evidently the tall, handsome stranger made 
 an impression on you. Tall, handsome men have 
 advantages over others less favored." 
 
 Then he added, whimsically : " Now I might 
 go to the American Chapel a score of times with- 
 out arousing any special interest." 
 
 Miss Holbrook smiled, for Mr. Milltrum's 
 humor was never biting or sarcastic. 
 
 " You would recognize the hero of your ad- 
 venture ? " he asked. 
 
 " Anywhere and instantly," she answered. 
 
 " We may run across him on some of our trips," 
 he suggested. 
 
 " I earnestly hope so," she replied. 
 
 " The symptoms are serious," he said, gravely. 
 
 Miss Holbrook laughed pleasantly. 
 
 By this time the clouds and mists had suffered
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 301 
 
 an overwhelming defeat, for the sun, with a 
 myriad arrows of light, had come to the relief 
 of the defiant mountains, that now lifted their 
 heads gratefully into the shining sky, their ice- 
 crowned summits blazing with diadems of jewels 
 and gold. 
 
 When they returned to the hotel, Mr. Milltrum 
 was given a telegram, which had come about an 
 hour before. 
 
 " Will reach Interlaken this evening, on train 
 arriving at six. PAUL." 
 
 Naturally, the Holbrooks were interested in the 
 coming of Paul Bedford, for both Miss Milltrum 
 and Maud had spoken of him so frequently as to 
 arouse a degree of curiosity. Moreover, several 
 trips had been postponed on his account, for the 
 Misses Milltrum were good walkers, and had 
 promised themselves two or three expeditions 
 during his stay. Indeed, their ambitions had 
 taken on such proportions that Mr. Milltrum 
 vigorously protested, suggestively intimating that 
 they had outgrown alpenstocks, and had reached 
 the age when sedan-chairs were more suited to 
 their needs. This rather nettled Miss Milltrum, 
 consequently she resolved that when Paul came 
 extensive tours would be made and the whole 
 region explored in the most vigorous fashion. 
 
 When Paul entered the dining-room that eve-
 
 302 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 ning with Miss Milltrum, the Holbrooks were 
 already seated at their table in a little nook near 
 a front window, and Mrs. Holbrook quietly re- 
 marked to her daughter: 
 
 " I presume that is Mr. Bedford, who is going 
 with the Milltrum party to their table. You can 
 see him in a moment, Miriam, without moving 
 your head. He is, as far as looks go, all they 
 have said." 
 
 Being a widow of recognized standing and with 
 some fifty years to her credit, Mrs. Holbrook 
 could look at the newcomer without embarrass- 
 ment, whereas her daughter had to wait until the 
 Milltrums crossed over to the table reserved 
 for them. Then a startled look came upon 
 Miriam's face. Her eyes filled with wonder. She 
 watched the little group like one in a trance. 
 She looked again and again, for she saw, not the 
 Milltrums, but the stranger whose appearance had 
 so affected her in the American Chapel, and of 
 whom she had been speaking only that morning! 
 Fortunately, the tables were some little distance 
 apart, and in the seating Paul was placed with 
 his back to the Holbrook corner; Miriam's agi- 
 tation, therefore, was unnoticed, save by her 
 mother, who looked at her anxiously and asked 
 if anything was the matter. 
 
 " Perhaps I have been overdoing these last few 
 days," Miss Holbrook managed to say. " The 
 walk this morning was longer and more fatigu-
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 303 
 
 ing than I bargained for. Besides, it is hot 
 here." 
 
 " Just what I was afraid of, Miriam. You 
 must be more careful. I hope, now that Mr. Bed- 
 ford is here, you will not fall in with any of Miss 
 Milltrum's excursion notions. People can only 
 do so much and no more. Are you better, dear ? " 
 
 " It was just a moment's giddiness, mamma, 
 and will be gone directly. Don't look so anxious, 
 or every one in the dining-room will think some- 
 thing is wrong. I am really better, indeed I am." 
 
 Miriam smiled so bravely, and spoke so ear- 
 nestly, that Mrs. Holbrook resumed her inter- 
 rupted dinner without any misgivings. 
 
 Watching her opportunity, Miriam slipped out 
 of the dining-room at the first convenient moment, 
 making some excuse which Mrs. Holbrook readily 
 accepted. On going to her room, she sat down 
 in a chair near an open window, very much per- 
 plexed, and distressed as well. Keenly she re- 
 membered her conversation of the morning, and 
 the frankness with which she had spoken to Mr. 
 Milltrum. Most vividly she recalled her eager 
 wish to meet the stranger she had described to 
 him, and also her reference to the influence he 
 had exerted, not only at their time of meeting, but 
 ever since. And now to think that the stranger 
 was none other than Mr. Bedford, whom she 
 must meet within an hour, and in whose presence 
 much of her life would be spent for the next few
 
 604 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 weeks! She did not imagine for an instant that 
 Mr. Milltrum would refer in the most remote 
 way to their conversation, still the mere fact of 
 her having spoken to him embarrassed her ex- 
 ceedingly. 
 
 As the Swiss twilights in July are very long, 
 Miss Holbrook knew it would be useless to at- 
 tempt any postponement of her meeting with Mr. 
 Bedford until dark; besides, there were certain 
 plans already formed for the evening by the Mill- 
 trums, in which she was included. So, nerving 
 herself for the ordeal, she went down-stairs, and, 
 at the end of the hotel veranda, she saw Miss 
 Milltrum and Mr. Bedford talking earnestly. 
 Something caused Paul to look in her direction, 
 when, the moment he saw her, he started so vio- 
 lently that Miss Milltrum regarded him with 
 surprise. In her white dinner-gown, with her 
 cheeks almost deathly pale, her eyes like stars in 
 a winter night, her dark hair forming an express- 
 ive background, she seemed to Paul the Miriam 
 of other days, and, when she moved toward him, 
 his face became almost ghastly, and his eyes 
 started with amazement. 
 
 Not seeing her mother where she usually sat, 
 Miss Holbrook went down the veranda steps lead- 
 ing to a little garden, much frequented in the 
 evening by guests of the hotel. As she disap- 
 peared, Paul exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper : 
 
 F r God's sake tell me who that
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 305 
 
 young lady is! You saw her as she went by? 
 Great heavens, what does it mean ? " 
 
 In his excitement he took Miss Milltrum by 
 both hands and led her to the veranda steps, where 
 they could see Miss Holbrook speaking to her 
 mother. 
 
 " That is Miss Holbrook ; she is staying here 
 with her mother. They are from New York." 
 
 Miss Milltrum's speech was almost as jerky and 
 disconnected as Paul's, for he fairly took her 
 breath away by his vehemence. 
 
 " Miss Holbrook ! " he repeated, in a dazed 
 way. " I thought she was was some one else." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Holbrook, whose mother was my 
 school crony before you were born. Miriam 
 is " 
 
 " Miriam! Is her name Miriam? " 
 
 The peculiar expression on Paul's face as he 
 asked this question, and the intensity with which 
 he waited for her reply, were very evident to Miss 
 Milltrum. 
 
 " Yes, her name is Miriam, and she is a noble 
 girl, whose devotion to her widowed mother is 
 simply beautiful. Uncle Lewis thinks she is the 
 sum of all perfections." 
 
 Later in the evening they were introduced, Miss 
 Milltrum doing the honors, nevertheless it was 
 an embarrassing moment to both Miss Holbrook 
 and Paul. 
 
 Some notable event of Swiss history was to be
 
 306 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 celebrated that evening at the Kursaal, ending 
 with a firework display of unusual brilliance. 
 Mr. Milltrum had secured seats for the party, 
 and, at the proper time, they started off, accom- 
 panied by several other Americans who were 
 staying at the Victoria. Mrs. Holbrook, being 
 something of an invalid, asked to be excused, and 
 went to her room, a cool wind beginning to 
 blow from the mountains. This detained Miss 
 Holbrook for some minutes, as she invariably 
 assisted her mother in her preparations for the 
 night. 
 
 " You wait for Miss Holbrook, Paul. She 
 knows the way, and can pilot you. Tell her our 
 seats are in the same section as those we had last 
 week. Come along, Peggy. Maud, take my other 
 arm. Don't be late, Paul, the music is worth 
 hearing." With these instructions and commands, 
 Mr. Milltrum departed. 
 
 On their way to the Kursaal, Paul said, quietly : 
 " We have met before, Miss Holbrook. Do you 
 remember where ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I saw you in the American Chapel about 
 a month ago," Miss Holbrook answered. 
 
 "Was that our first time of meeting?" Paul 
 asked, looking at her earnestly. 
 
 " The first of which I have any distinct recol- 
 lections," Miss Holbrook replied, speaking almost 
 in a whisper. 
 
 " Excuse me ; it will doubtless seem a strange
 
 THE HOLBROOKS 307 
 
 thing for me to say, particularly as I remember 
 that we were introduced not more than an hour 
 ago, but somehow I feel that we are not meeting 
 as strangers. When or how or under what cir- 
 cumstances we have met I cannot say, yet that 
 we have met somewhere I am as positive as that 
 we are now on our way to the Kursaal." 
 
 There was a certain quality in Paul's voice 
 which could not be mistaken. He spoke with 
 that accent of conviction which rarely fails to 
 make itself impressive. But what made his words 
 still more effective was the fact that they were 
 almost an echo of what Miss Holbrook had said 
 only that morning. She therefore looked at him 
 in a nervous, startled way, almost ready to believe, 
 though she instantly put it away as improbable, 
 that Mr. Milltrum had violated her confidence. 
 But, womanlike, she soon rallied, and, in a tone 
 somewhat careless, she remarked : 
 
 " Resemblances and coincidences give to life 
 much of its charm. And variety as well. We 
 have, therefore, cause to be grateful for them. I 
 am, at any rate." 
 
 Paul was disappointed at Miss Holbrook's re- 
 ply. It was not what he expected. He was so 
 serious that he was not prepared for any light- 
 ness or trifling. Ever since that day in Paris he 
 had been troubled and anxious. He went to the 
 American Chapel the following Sunday, but the 
 one of all others he was so anxious to see failed
 
 308 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 to appear. He made such inquiries as were pos- 
 sible through the American colony, but all in vain. 
 And now, in the heart of Switzerland, in the 
 most unexpected way, he discovers the object of 
 his search. But of what avail? Only to learn 
 that she is a Miss Holbrook, of New York, whose 
 mother was a schoolmate of Miss Milltrum, and 
 whose life in no way was related to his! 
 
 Chatting of other matters, they soon reached 
 the Kursaal, and joined the Milltrum party.
 
 III. 
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 
 
 M 
 
 ISS MILLTRUM'S programme was car- 
 ried out to the letter. Despite the good-natured 
 protests of Mr. Milltrum, excursions and tramping 
 tours were the order of the day, only unpleasant 
 weather causing any interruption. Sometimes the 
 plans of the Misses Milltrum involved remaining 
 overnight in some chalet or primitive hotel, for 
 there are exquisite little nooks and corners in 
 Switzerland where tourists must accept very sim- 
 ple fare, and accommodations anything but lux- 
 urious. But the Milltrum party gave small heed 
 to these matters. Trifling inconveniences were 
 of little moment compared with the enjoyment 
 which they made possible. What odds if some- 
 times the floors were without either rug or carpet, 
 or the dining-table guiltless of a cloth? What 
 harm if the dinner did not suggest Sherry's on 
 Fifth Avenue, or Chatham's on the Rue de la 
 Paix? Did not the clear, crisp, marvellously 
 healthful air more than atone for the lack of cer- 
 309
 
 310 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 tain savory dishes, or the absence of familiar 
 comforts ? 
 
 So they all made much of their outings, laugh- 
 ing heartily at sundry mishaps and adventures. 
 Miss Holbrook was always included in the party, 
 her mother's health having so far improved as to 
 admit of Miriam's absence without inconvenience. 
 Indeed, Miss Holbrook was almost an essential, 
 for there were times when Paul's French limped 
 very badly, and his endeavors to express himself 
 elicited only an unmeaning smile from the sad- 
 faced waiter, or hotel landlord. At such times, 
 and they were of frequent occurrence, Miss Hol- 
 brook would come to Paul's relief, when the 
 waiter would bow gratefully, the landlord beam 
 benignantly, and happiness once more diffuse itself 
 upon the company. This led Paul and Miss Hol- 
 brook into frequent conversations, and, in time, he 
 nearly always consulted her when making arrange- 
 ments for the party. As a usual thing, Mr. Mill- 
 trum went with the " gadders," as he frequently 
 termed them, and, while he grumbled occasionally 
 in his quaint, humorous way, he enjoyed himself 
 immensely. He was not a little vain of his ap- 
 pearance in a golfing suit, and more than once 
 was taken for an English duke, his face and 
 general bearing favoring the deception. 
 
 " Dukes have been known to be good, uncle, 
 at least, there is a tradition to that effect, 
 but a handsome one has yet to be born," Maud
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 311 
 
 said, when the landlord retired who had favored 
 Mr. Milltrum with this patent of high nobility. 
 
 " Maud, I will disinherit you. I will leave my 
 estates and ducal properties to the fortunate men 
 who have been refused your hand in marriage. 
 Am I not, Miss Holbrook, a handsome man ? " 
 
 " Most assuredly, Mr. Milltrum. No seriously 
 disposed person could question it." 
 
 " And Peggy, who has known me time out of 
 mind, will bear testimony to my goodness." 
 
 " There are days, Uncle Lewis, when I have 
 a conscience; this is one of them. So please 
 excuse me." 
 
 " P e gy Milltrum ! And after all that I have 
 done to assist you on your man-hunting expedi- 
 tions! O gratitude, where art thou?" 
 
 " It was the golfing-suit that did the business," 
 Paul remarked. " That tumultuous tweed ! That 
 great organ open diapason pattern! Those Heb- 
 ridean stockings of deep and manifold hue ! The 
 landlord was simply awed by such array." 
 
 "Envy, Paul, is the sure sign of a small nature. 
 Therefore, I am not surprised by your comments." 
 
 Of course that was not the end of it, but Mr. 
 Milltrum was always able to return a Roland 
 for an Oliver. One day, though, he squared ac- 
 counts with Paul, who, being unusually generous 
 with the landlord of a little wayside hotel, was 
 thanked most profusely and addressed as " Your 
 Highness." Mr. Milltrum, who was standing
 
 312 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 near by, could hardly restrain himself. And the 
 look he gave Miss Holbrook, who had gone with 
 Paul to act as interpreter, was distressingly comic. 
 But, when he got away from the hotel, he gave 
 a whoop that would have startled a New York 
 newsboy. 
 
 " Peggy ! Maud ! Behold his Highness ! " he 
 shouted, as Paul came up the road. Then he 
 explained, and the explanation lost nothing by 
 his giving it, for he embellished with a genius 
 worthy of a press agent. 
 
 " We surely are a distinguished party," Maud 
 remarked. " I never expected that a simple 
 American girl would be permitted to travel with 
 a prince of the blood, and a duke of the realm. 
 What are your Grace's commands for this after- 
 noon? And has your Highness any special 
 wish?" 
 
 So they chaffed and laughed, enjoying their 
 holiday with all the zest imaginable, for, as Mr. 
 Milltrum remarked, " The only way to get any 
 fun out of life is to put some fun into it." 
 
 Thus the weeks went by, and the time was 
 rapidly approaching when Paul Bedford would 
 be compelled to leave for London, special matters 
 requiring his presence there. But Miss Milltrum 
 insisted that, before he left, the party must cross 
 the Gemmi Pass, and get a glimpse of the Rhone 
 valley. To this, Mr. Milltrum demurred. So 
 did Mrs. Holbrook. Various reasons were given
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 313 
 
 and objections stated. Paul sat a silent but 
 deeply interested listener, while the discussion 
 went on. Once Miss Milltrum appealed to him, 
 but he only smiled and shook his head. 
 
 " You can't do it in two days," Mr. Milltrum 
 said, emphatically. " I have looked up the maps 
 and guide-books. I don't know, Peggy, what put 
 such a notion into your head." 
 
 " Why, uncle, it is a far easier trip than you 
 imagine! We will sail to Thun, have carriages 
 to Kandersteg, there procure horses to the Gemini, 
 where we can remain all night, and go down the 
 pass in the morning before the sun gets too high. 
 There is really no trouble about it." 
 
 " Isn't there ? Some of these long-legged stu- 
 dents, who are in training for seven days' walk- 
 ing-matches, might do what you propose, but 
 for three women ! " 
 
 When Mr. Milltrum said "three women," there 
 was an inflection in his voice which imme- 
 diately aroused both Maud and Miss Holbrook, 
 and from that moment the opposition went down 
 like corn before a reaping-machine. And so Miss 
 Milltrum prevailed. Paul Bedford had misgiv- 
 ings concerning the proposed trip. Not that he 
 dreaded any accident, or feared an inability to 
 carry out the plan. But Paul was having trou- 
 ble with himself, deeper and more serious trouble 
 than he had ever thought possible. He had not 
 attempted any renewal of his first conversation
 
 314 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 with Miss Holbrook, and was exceedingly careful 
 not to give her the slightest hint of his real feel- 
 ings, but the idea that she was in some way as- 
 sociated with Miriam Saxby haunted him con- 
 tinually. In her rippling laugh, in some quaint 
 turn of speech, in the shrug of her shoulders, in 
 the tones of her voice, he could hear and see 
 the Miriam to whom he had given the love of his 
 young, eager heart. And every day the re- 
 semblance seemed to be more perfect. Often 
 he would look at her when she was walking with 
 Mr. Milltrum or talking with Maud, or revelling 
 in the glories of some mountain view, and he 
 could hardly persuade himself that he was not 
 back again in Pelham, and that the last nine years 
 of his life were only a dream. A touch of her 
 hand sent the blood leaping wildly in his veins. 
 A flash of her eye opened every doorway in his 
 soul. In his heart she was not Miss Holbrook, 
 but Miriam, the one who loved him better than 
 life, and who had gone down into death with his 
 name upon her lips. 
 
 He remembered Judith, but he also remembered 
 that she came to him without words of wooing 
 and tenderness, for she well knew that his heart 
 was buried in the little cemetery at Pelham. Per- 
 haps he was weak in yielding to the urgent wish 
 of Mr. Milltrum, and sometimes he thought that 
 he had failed in loyalty to the dead, but there had 
 been no deception on his part. At no time had
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 315 
 
 he even pretended to love the imperious, beauti- 
 ful Southerner, and she, it should be said, had 
 been equally frank with him. Under these cir- 
 cumstances might he not allow some of the love 
 which poured itself so lavishly into Miriam's 
 grave to be given the new Miriam who seemed 
 to have risen from that grave? For Miss Hoi- 
 brook had not aroused any new passion or desire. 
 It was simply the old love, the love that he had 
 given Miriam, and which had never been with- 
 drawn. He understood perfectly the nature of 
 his obligations to Judith, and what the world 
 demanded of him, but there were times when he 
 thought all of the obligations should not rest on 
 him, and that he had claims which ought not to 
 be ignored. Paul was human, he was made of 
 flesh and blood; he was no marble or cast-iron 
 image insensible to desire or feeling. But his 
 standards were high, his eyes unclouded, and he 
 looked at life in a brave, honorable way. 
 
 He had enjoyed, immensely too, these weeks 
 in Switzerland. Not for several years, perhaps 
 never, had he allowed himself such a generous re- 
 lief from business. He seemed to forget the 
 serious responsibilities which usually rested on 
 him, and for the time had the spirit and light- 
 heartedness of youth. But of late the feeling had 
 gradually grown upon him that it would be better 
 if he went back to London. This, perhaps, was
 
 316 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 why he refused to commit himself regarding the 
 proposed trip to the Gemmi. 
 
 Everything went according to Miss Milltrum's 
 schedule, for she had a way of bringing things 
 to pass. It meant an early start from the hotel, 
 at which Mr. Milltrum grumbled not a little, and 
 a long, tiresome day for the whole party; never- 
 theless they reached the hospice on the summit 
 an hour or two after sundown. 
 
 It was a rare evening, one only to be had in 
 Switzerland at the close of a superb August day. 
 But most of tfie travellers were too weary to 
 enjoy the glorious view from the summit, or later 
 watch the moon rise on the distant mountains. 
 Miss Holbrook, however, having more of youth 
 on her side, and with a stronger poetic endow- 
 ment than either of the Misses Milltrum, was 
 loath to house herself on such a night when the 
 heavens were so filled with beauty, and the earth 
 glowing as if transfigured. She sat near the door- 
 way of the hospice, revelling in the glory of the 
 scenes around her. Paul had provided her with 
 extra wraps, for the air, though strangely still 
 for such an altitude, was crisp and cold, a sharp 
 contrast from that of the valley below. He sat 
 on the veranda steps quietly smoking, waiting 
 for the moon to come up from behind the moun- 
 tains from which the sunlight had just gone. 
 Hardly a sound broke the mysterious stillness. 
 There was no tinkle of distant cow-bell, no horn-
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 317 
 
 blast echoing among the hills, no songs of Swiss 
 peasantry, so weird yet so full of melody. The 
 sky was almost cloudless, and the stars hung so 
 low that they seemed like immense dewdrops 
 quivering in heavenly light. 
 
 " If you are not too tired, Miss Holbrook, sup- 
 pose we walk to the top of this hill. The view, 
 I think, is better than here, and if fortune 
 smiles upon us we may see the moon give its 
 evening blessing to the Matterhorn." 
 
 Paul's voice was not much louder than a 
 whisper, for he felt the spell of the strange 
 silence which rested on the mountains. 
 
 Without saying a word Miss Holbrook rose 
 from her chair, and after fastening her travelling- 
 cloak, which she had thrown loosely over her 
 shoulders on coming to the veranda, came quietly 
 down the steps to where Paul was standing. 
 
 " The light will be better in a few minutes," 
 he said in the same low tone, " but the walking 
 is rather uncertain here. Please take my arm." 
 
 Silently she accepted the preferred arm, but 
 in doing so her hand slightly trembled. 
 
 " Are you cold ? " Paul asked, anxiously. 
 
 " Not very, and I shall soon be warm enough 
 if the walking is all like this. Isn't it rough? " 
 
 The walking was difficult, for in the uncertain 
 light Paul more than once missed the path. 
 But they managed to scramble along, and with- 
 out special mishap reached the top of the hill,
 
 318 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Here they found a rather primitive pagoda, or, 
 more properly, a sort of crow's nest, not an un- 
 common structure on many Swiss mountains. 
 
 For some time they sat in silence, as just then 
 the moon was rising from what seemed like 
 mountains in the sky, and the distant summits, 
 which only an hour before had the glow of a 
 divine fire, now glistened in silvern light. 
 
 "Oh, how beautiful!" Miss Holbrook mur- 
 mured, softly, constrained finally to speak. 
 
 Paul caught a glimpse of her face, and though 
 the light was yet dim, he could see her eyes were 
 full of tears. Instantly he thought of Miriam 
 Saxby, and the effect that such a scene would 
 have had upon her, for he keenly remembered 
 how strangely sensitive and impressionable she 
 was. 
 
 " You are not cold now, I hope ? " he asked, 
 going over to Miss Holbrook, and turning up the 
 wide collar of her travelling-cloak, so that it 
 formed a hood. 
 
 " Thank you. I am exceedingly comfortable. 
 I am so grateful that you asked me to come up 
 here. The view is much finer every way than 
 from the hospice veranda." 
 
 As she spoke the light of the moon shone full 
 on her face, and again Paul thought of Miriam 
 Saxby, for the likeness was now more startling 
 than ever. 
 
 Oh, how he wanted to take her in his arms,
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 319 
 
 to gather her gratefully to his breast, to press 
 loving kisses on her quivering lips; to welcome 
 her back from the valley of silence, and to pour 
 into her wondering ears the story of his loneliness 
 during the terrible years of her absence! Never 
 did he have such a fearful battle with himself. 
 Everything that he had of will, of self-restraint, 
 of self-control, was needed in that hour. One 
 moment of weakness, and he surely would have 
 yielded, for the love of his early manhood had 
 returned, bringing with it the unutterable long- 
 ings and yearnings of nine weary years. 
 
 " Miss Holbrook," he finally said, speaking 
 with unnatural calmness, and at the same time 
 lighting a cigar, only, however, as a pretence, 
 " may I tell you a little story, a personal story, 
 one which in some way relates to you ? " 
 
 Miss Holbrook looked at him wonderingly, but 
 when she saw his face immediately there rose 
 before her the scene in the American Chapel, for 
 at that moment he seemed exactly as he did then. 
 And she also remembered her singular feeling of 
 recognition, a feeling of which she had after- 
 ward spoken to Mr. Milltrum, and from which 
 she could not escape. Though she knew that Mr. 
 Bedford was married, for the Misses Milltrum 
 often referred to Judith, and though she knew 
 nothing whatever of the circumstances involved in 
 that marriage, she had the distinct impression 
 that in some way her life was related to that of
 
 320 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paul Bedford, but how or why she could not 
 imagine. 
 
 She was not sufficiently versed in the world's 
 ways to understand the significance of that im- 
 pression. For the judgments of the world are 
 always severe. And the eyes of the world are 
 very sharp, just as its ears are very quick, and 
 its tongue quicker and sharper and more severe 
 than all else. But of these things Miss Holbrook 
 knew nothing. Her mother had never been any- 
 thing but a sweet, innocent girl, and would never 
 be anything elsa, though she lived to be a century 
 old. Her father was a frank, ingenuous boy 
 when he died, despite his splendid ability and 
 famous scholarship. Miriam, therefore, had a 
 noble birthright of utter unfamiliarity with cer- 
 tain forms and conventions. 
 
 Her life, too, had been so secluded that she 
 knew almost nothing of the shams, the hypocri- 
 sies, the hollow, unmeaning pretences, under 
 which society often disguises itself. During these 
 weeks at Interlaken, when she was seeing Mr. 
 Bedford every day, her mind was not vexed with 
 confusing questions, neither was she troubled 
 as to what others might say. And, as no sugges- 
 tion had come from the mother, or the faintest 
 hint from the Milltrums, it never once occurred 
 to her that any possible harm could result from 
 an acquaintance in every way so delightful. Still, 
 she could not entirely dismiss a feeling of uneasi-
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 321 
 
 ness when Mr. Bedford asked permission to tell 
 her a story, frankly saying that she was in some 
 way related to it. But what could she say in 
 reply? To refuse would be not only ungracious, 
 but significant. For that would imply a singular 
 penetration on her part, and perhaps cause him 
 to think that she had divined some secret which 
 he had been striving to conceal. 
 
 " May I ? " he asked again, observing her 
 hesitation. " But perhaps you are weary, and 
 would prefer returning to the hospice ? " 
 
 " Please tell me the story," she answered, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 Paul began with Mr. Saxby's summons to Pel- 
 ham, and rapidly traced the beginnings of his 
 acquaintance with Miriam up to their marriage 
 and her death. Then he spoke of Judith, nor was 
 there any lack of either kindness or chivalry in 
 what he said. Finally he mentioned the strange 
 meeting in the American Chapel, when it seemed 
 to him as if he had looked upon one who had risen 
 from the dead. 
 
 " I cannot possibly understand it," he said. " I 
 am simply bewildered. And every day only deep- 
 ens the mystery. After I recovered from the first 
 shock in Paris, I thought the likeness was merely 
 a natural coincidence, its effect greatly heightened 
 by the presence of Doctor Keithburn, who re- 
 called so vividly the memories with which he was 
 associated. But since coming to Interlaken the
 
 322 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 impression made in the American Chapel has been 
 deepened a thousandfold. To me, therefore, you 
 are not Miriam Holbrook; you are Miriam 
 Saxby! I did not mean to speak of this to you. 
 It may possibly grieve and distress you, but some- 
 times I imagined that there was a look of inquiry 
 in your eyes, as if there was some question in 
 your heart which I only could answer. If I 
 have done you wrong in telling you this story, 
 forgive me." 
 
 As Paul finished speaking he turned away from 
 Miss Holbrook and looked down into the Rhone 
 valley, sleeping so peacefully in the moonlight. 
 Miss Holbrook sat as one in a dream. Every 
 word of the story to which she had just listened 
 carried a strange meaning to her heart, but she 
 attempted nothing by way of reply. Of the 
 reality of the story she had no doubt. How could 
 she? Had she not weeks before, in her conver- 
 sation with Mr. Milltrum, affirmed most positively 
 that the stranger she saw in the American Chapel 
 had some mysterious relation to her own life? 
 
 And evidently Paul Bedford did not expect 
 either question or reply, for after a time he said, 
 very tenderly : 
 
 " I hope you will not think that I have taken 
 an undue advantage of your kindness, Miss Hol- 
 brook, but I could not go away without telling 
 you my story." 
 
 Then they went back to the hospice, Miss
 
 THE GEMMI PASS 323 
 
 Holbrook going to her room to think over what 
 she had heard, and Paul remaining on the veranda 
 to watch the mountains gleam and glisten in the 
 moonlight.
 
 T, 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE DESCENT 
 
 HIS is pleasure, I suppose. Pure, sweet, 
 unalloyed pleasure. How happy I am ! And you 
 look gloriously happy, Peggy. Anything more 
 delightful, no one could imagine. Maud, of 
 course, can hardly contain herself. What a com- 
 fort we are less than half-way down! A whole 
 week of this would be paradise." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum was the speaker, and he was 
 delivering himself with much freedom. 
 
 The steep, zigzag descent of the Gemmi Pass 
 had been undertaken according to Miss Milltrum's 
 plan, but the party had been tardy in getting 
 started, and, as the sun in August rarely fails to 
 keep schedule time, the walk down was a hot, 
 toilsome affair. 
 
 The guide, comfortably laden with shawls, 
 wraps, overcoats, and small hand-bags, moved on 
 with enviable ease, though stopping wherever it 
 was practicable to give the travellers a chance 
 to rest. But a pause on the steep side of a Swiss 
 mountain, where the path is cut in the rock and 
 
 324
 
 THE DESCENT 325 
 
 with no trees to make a shadow against 
 the sun, affords little rest or refreshment. Mr. 
 Milltrum, therefore, was having things to say, 
 and he was saying them with the courage of a 
 native-born American. 
 
 " I am so glad, Peggy, you thought of this 
 trip. How I have lived all these years without 
 crossing the Gemmi is simply a miracle. My 
 shrinking shoes, my clinging clothes, my beaded 
 brow, my blistering back, are profuse in express- 
 ing the happiness I feel. I shall certainly change 
 my will when I get back to the hotel. Every- 
 thing goes to you, Peggy. You deserve it. Had 
 it not been for your thoughtfulness, I should now 
 be sitting in an easy chair on the Victoria veranda, 
 smoking one of Paul's cigars, or bibulating some 
 cool and grateful beverage, the possibilities of 
 lunch at a seasonable hour suggesting things 
 agreeable to my vigorous appetite. Thanks to 
 you, Peggy, I am here sweltering in this heat, 
 oozing at every pore, dying for a drink, and en- 
 joying a bliss, the memory of which will never 
 leave me." 
 
 " But, uncle, think of the view from the sun> 
 mit! You said this morning it was worth a 
 journey of ten thousand miles. You went into 
 raptures over it." 
 
 "Did I? It is so long ago that I don't re- 
 member. However, I take it all back. What 
 concerns me now is not views, but "
 
 326 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Shoes," Maud said, promptly. " We warned 
 you, uncle, but instead of wearing an easy, com- 
 fortable shoe you have on dancing pumps. No 
 wonder you suffer, you poor dear." 
 
 " And these are what you call dancing pumps ? 
 These double - soled, rope - stitched, iron - spiked 
 brogans ? But perhaps you are right, for a more 
 fantastic toe I never saw, or one with such trip- 
 ping propensities. If your idea of dancing means 
 sprawling, or gyrating top-fashion, then these 
 dainty creations are surely dancing pumps." 
 
 As Mr. Milltrum spoke he ruefully contem- 
 plated his foot-gear. 
 
 " We haven't much farther to go," Miss Mill- 
 trum said, soothingly. 
 
 " Only about two hours more, with the sun get- 
 ting hotter every minute, and the breeze leaving 
 us as we get into the valley. I am so glad, 
 Peggy, you insisted on this trip, and still more 
 that you allowed me to be one of the party. I 
 never can be sufficiently grateful." 
 
 By this time the guide had readjusted his bur- 
 dens and was respectfully standing, thus inti- 
 mating his readiness to continue the descent. The 
 Milltrums, therefore, though without marked en- 
 thusiasm, resumed their journey. 
 
 At the request of Miss Milltrum, when the 
 party was leaving the hospice, Paul Bedford had 
 commissioned himself Miss Holbrook's attendant 
 cavalier, and, as he had crossed the Gemmi before,
 
 THE DESCENT 327 
 
 the services of a guide were not essential. So 
 they went on a little in advance of the Milltrums. 
 
 When they started Miss Holbrook was con- 
 strained and embarrassed, for Paul Bedford's 
 strange story of the night before was vivid in her 
 mind. Indeed, so deep had been the impression 
 which Paul's recital had made, that after going 
 to her room she remained awake half of the 
 night, wondering what it all could mean. Nor 
 was it so much the story in itself, for she remem- 
 bered Mr. Milltrum's words, " Nearly every per- 
 son we meet suggests a resemblance to some other 
 person ; " but it was her appropriation of that 
 story as a personal experience. From the first 
 meeting with Paul Bedford she was conscious of 
 a mysterious relationship, and that consciousness 
 had only strengthened during these weeks at In- 
 terlaken. Just as he at times would look at her 
 and see the living counterpart of his lost Miriam, 
 so she would look at him, her mind haunted with 
 vague, indistinct memories. But, try as she would, 
 nothing tangible suggested itself. She went back 
 to the days of her early girlhood, the period of 
 visions, of dreams, of innocent romance, and she 
 even recalled some of her favorite heroes in fic- 
 tion, with the hope of finding Paul Bedford's 
 prototype, and thus possibly account for the 
 strange influence which possessed her. 
 
 But all in vain. Her youthful heroes had either 
 been dashing cavaliers, whose deeds of bravery
 
 328 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 were worthy of eternal fame, or soulful trouba- 
 dours, whose songs lingered on the ear like bells 
 at eventide. With a mother whose life had been 
 one sweet romance, with a father whose genius 
 led him to the heights of self-sacrifice, Miriam's 
 ideal of manhood was surely different from that 
 embodied by Paul Bedford. At first wonder, 
 surprise, curiosity, and various other virtues pe- 
 culiar to the feminine mind, entered into her study 
 of the situation and its problems. But after a 
 time these gave way to deep perplexity and serious 
 mental distress: She was glad, therefore, that 
 Mr. Bedford had been recalled to London, and 
 would leave Interlaken before many days. In 
 his absence she might perhaps work out of the 
 maze where she was wandering, or obtain some 
 solution of the mystery which so far had baffled 
 her. 
 
 What avail, though, would that be now ? Only 
 the night before he had told his story, and as she 
 listened her heart responded most strangely, and, 
 while she gave him neither word nor look by way 
 of reply, she was certain that he felt the sym- 
 pathetic current which flowed as from a spring 
 of infinite depth. 
 
 No wonder, therefore, at her embarrassment 
 when Miss Milltrum placed her in Paul Bedford's 
 charge, and she mentally resolved to keep with 
 the other members of the party as much as pos- 
 sible. But this she found was not practicable.
 
 THE DESCENT 329 
 
 The Gemmi Pass on the Rhone valley side is not 
 intended for groups and companies to go abreast. 
 So nothing remained but a quiet acceptance of 
 the plan suggested by Miss Milltrum. For some 
 time after leaving the summit she was compara- 
 tively independent, but soon the walking became 
 increasingly difficult, and occasionally looked 
 more dangerous than it really was. At such times 
 Paul insisted on her taking his arm, and then 
 again he would firmly clasp her hand, fearing 
 she might slip at some sharp corner where the 
 fence looked unsafe. Ere long she found Paul's 
 arm a grateful assistance, and almost uncon- 
 sciously would reach out her hand when help was 
 required. 
 
 They stopped frequently, partly to keep within 
 easy distance of the Milltrums, but more, perhaps, 
 to enjoy the glorious views which so distinguish 
 this passage of the Gemmi. 
 
 When about half-way down, they met a Ger- 
 man professor and his wife, the wife on horse- 
 back, the professor on foot. The professor ap^ 
 pealed to them for help and advice. He said his 
 wife's horse insisted on walking at the extreme 
 edge of the path, and that she was frightened 
 almost to death. For some reason, the professor 
 went on to say, the guide only shook his head 
 when remonstrated with, and was as stubborn 
 as the horse whose bridle he was holding. Being 
 very stout, and evidently not accustomed to moun-
 
 330 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 tain climbing, the professor looked unhappy and 
 uncomfortable. His face was almost scarlet, he 
 was bathed in perspiration, and while speaking 
 he mopped himself with a handkerchief of heroic 
 proportions. Discovering that Miss Holbrook 
 spoke German, he was overjoyed, for his English 
 was severely strained in the effort to explain 
 his situation. Miss Holbrook spoke to the pro- 
 fessor's wife, and tried to comfort the nervous 
 woman by assuring her that the Pass was not 
 as dangerous as it seemed, and had almost per- 
 suaded her to resume the journey, when the horse 
 kicked loose a large stone and sent it over the 
 edge, where it went leaping from cliff to cliff. 
 Then the professor's wife screamed, the professor 
 shouted, and if the guide had not held the horse 
 with a hand of iron the results might have been 
 serious. The hysterical woman declared passion- 
 ately that nothing would induce her to go a step 
 farther, that the horse was a vicious brute, that 
 the guide could not be trusted, that she was cer- 
 tain they would all be killed, and that people were 
 only idiots and fools for attempting such things. 
 But after a time, thanks to Miss Holbrook's 
 soothing words, she lost something of her fear, 
 though positive in her determination not to go 
 to the summit. 
 
 Miss Holbrook suggested to the professor that 
 he allow his wife an opportunity to rest, which
 
 THE DESCENT 331 
 
 might result possibly in her being able to resume 
 the journey. 
 
 " In that case we will have lunch," he said. " It 
 is many hours since breakfast. And you will join 
 us, will you not ? It will do my wife much good, 
 and give me great pleasure as well." 
 
 Fortunately, there was a sheltered nook close 
 at hand, and from the professor's capacious hand- 
 bag various supplies were produced, by no means 
 either displeasing to the eye or unpleasant to the 
 taste. To say the least, the situation was novel. 
 Here were Miss Holbrook and Paul Bedford 
 lunching midway in the Gemmi Pass with a Ger- 
 man professor and his wife whom they had never 
 seen until that hour, whose names even they did 
 not know, and from whom they expected to part 
 when the meal was ended. But travel is usually 
 suggestive of adventure, and without novelty life 
 would be a very tame affair. And the professor 
 was so grateful for Miss Holbrook's kindness 
 to his wife that to decline his hospitality would 
 have seemed ungracious. Besides, a breakfast 
 at the Gemmi hospice is not always as substantial 
 as some might desire, and a brisk walk in the 
 morning air, however romantic or inspiring, tends 
 ultimately to hunger. Mr. Milltrum had made 
 that discovery some time before, nor had he much 
 difficulty in persuading his nieces to pause at a 
 suitable place and diligently explore certain lunch- 
 baskets with which the guide had been provided.
 
 332 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 This will explain why that great and good man 
 was not present to share in the hospitality of the 
 grateful German and his yet more grateful wife. 
 
 " I have not been in your country," the pro- 
 fessor said to Paul, after learning he was from 
 New York, " but my wife, she has relations there. 
 Perhaps you have seen them. They are in New 
 Orleans." 
 
 Paul intimated gently that New Orleans was 
 not a New York suburb, but the professor went 
 on : 
 
 " You Americans travel much, very much, and 
 a hundred miles make a small journey for you." 
 
 " A hundred miles ! " Paul said to himself, as 
 he thought of the distance between New York and 
 New Orleans. 
 
 " It is of my wife's uncle that I am speaking. 
 He lives in New Orleans. But we cannot get 
 letters from him. And there is some property 
 which is now in the courts. But the property is 
 little, not enough to pay for a lawyer to go to 
 New Orleans. So it has waited for nearly ten 
 years. Carreau is the name of my wife's uncle." 
 
 " Carreau ! " Paul exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, Victor Carreau. Did you know him ? " 
 
 The professor looked eagerly at Paul, whose 
 face betrayed the interest he felt. 
 
 " There was a Victor Carreau in New Orleans 
 with whom our firm had some dealings," Paul 
 answered, quietly, " but he died ten years ago."
 
 THE DESCENT 333 
 
 Paul had a keen remembrance of Mr. Mill- 
 trum's sad visit to New Orleans at that time, and 
 the still sadder results which had followed it. 
 
 " He have one daughter ; her name was Judith. 
 He send picture of her to my wife. My wife 
 always carry picture of Judith, so that she show 
 it to Americans." 
 
 " I have it here," the professor's wife said, 
 bringing out from her side-bag a little photo- 
 graph-case, which she handed to Miss Holbrook. 
 
 Miriam looked intently at the strikingly hand- 
 some but imperious face, little dreaming that she 
 was holding in her hand the portrait of Paul 
 Bedford's wife. Both the professor and his wife 
 watched her eagerly, hoping to detect some sign 
 of recognition, but as Miss Holbrook had never 
 seen Judith the photograph to her was that of a 
 stranger. 
 
 " You may have met this lady," she said, giv- 
 ing Mr. Bedford the card. " Any one who has 
 met her would certainly remember her. Isn't she 
 brilliantly handsome?" 
 
 Paul barely glanced at the photograph. One 
 brief look convinced him that it was Judith's 
 picture. Then, with a strange expression, one 
 which Miriam had never seen on his face before, 
 he said to the professor: 
 
 " This is a photograph of my wife." 
 
 Of course the professor had to exclaim, " Mcin 
 Gott in Himmel! " then shake Paul's hand most
 
 334 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 vigorously, as though inducting him into covenant 
 relationship. And of course the professor's wife 
 forgot her recent terrors, in the joy of finding a 
 family representative in this unexpected way. 
 
 For the moment Miss Holbrook was forgotten, 
 so she quietly withdrew from the group, and went 
 over to where the guide was standing. Just then 
 the Milltrums made their appearance, and ere long 
 Mr. Milltrum, with characteristic heartiness, was 
 sharing in the excitement caused by the discovery 
 of Paul's relationship to the professor and his 
 wife. Under these new conditions, it was only 
 natural that the professor should propose return- 
 ing with Paul Bedford and his party, a proposal 
 to which his wife gave grateful assent. Nor did 
 the guide demur, particularly when he was given 
 to understand that he would be a gainer by the 
 transaction. 
 
 " No more mountains for me, Peggy. I am 
 through. I have had all the mountains I care 
 for. Giddy young creatures like you and Maud 
 may enjoy gliding and sliding, and coasting and 
 roasting, but for the future I will take my moun- 
 tains in pictures. How my feet smart! Don't I 
 wish we were all back in Interlaken. Just catch 
 me again on any such rampage as this." 
 
 " Now, uncle, it really wasn't so bad, after all. 
 And you walked the last part of the journey like 
 an athlete. I was proud of you." 
 
 " Maud, you mean well. At least, there are
 
 THE DESCENT 335 
 
 stray moments when you mean to mean well. 
 This is one of them. But don't overwork it. 
 Your suggestion concerning my athletic propen- 
 sities strains me. And it isn't any use. Now 
 that I am here, I don't intend to budge from this 
 cubby-house of a hotel until my feet resume their 
 natural proportions, and my neck loses its present 
 lobster hue." 
 
 " You are not half as badly used up as Pro- 
 fessor Schuman. Poor man, what a time he 
 had!" 
 
 " No wonder. Think of a man of his build 
 attempting the Gemmi Pass! But then, every 
 man is not of athletic type, is he, Maud ? " 
 
 " No use asking you to take a walk, I suppose," 
 Paul Bedford remarked, as he came out of the 
 hotel and looked inquiringly at Mr. Milltrum. 
 
 " No, sir. This village may contain the seven 
 wonders of the world, and seventy times seven 
 more of other things, for all I care. Explore it 
 as you please. Turn it inside out. Buy anything 
 and everything that strikes your fancy. But from 
 this porch and easy chair I will not be dragged by 
 any one. Before you go, Paul, fill my cigar- 
 case. Isn't Miss Holbrook going with you, 
 Peggy?" 
 
 " No, she complained of a headache and went 
 to her room soon after lunch. She will probably 
 be down before we get back." 
 
 There was nothing imaginary in Miss Hoi-
 
 336 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 brook's headache. The hot sun, the long walk, 
 and the unusual fatigue may have been contrib- 
 uting causes, but possibly Paul Bedford's story 
 of the night before, and the singular way in 
 which she came to see the photograph of his wife, 
 affected her more than she would care to admit. 
 Judith's face haunted her. Though frankly con- 
 ceding its beauty, and feeling also something of 
 its mysterious power, she could see in fancy a 
 mocking look in the eyes, and a curve of disdain 
 on the lips. Turn where she would, that face 
 followed her. At times the eyes had a gleam 
 of hatred, and the lips seemed cruel and pitiless. 
 She began to wonder why Mr. Bedford had^ mar- 
 ried the imperious beauty, for in his story he had 
 said very little of Judith. Then another question 
 thrust itself upon her. Why had not Judith 
 sought to win the love of her husband ? Had her 
 pride been aroused because of his devotion to 
 the dead Miriam? But no matter how she rea- 
 soned with herself no light came to her bewildered 
 mind ; instead it was only mystery upon mystery. 
 
 Going down-stairs, she found Mr. Milltrum 
 in an easy chair, the very picture of comfort and 
 content. 
 
 " Isn't this delicious? " he asked, when she had 
 seated herself in a chair not far from his. " My 
 future mountain climbing will be done in a rock- 
 ing-chair." 
 
 Miss Holbrook smiled.
 
 THE DESCENT 337 
 
 Then they went on to speak of the recent haps 
 and mishaps, ending up with the meeting of Pro- 
 fessor Schuman and his wife. 
 
 " Paul has promised the next time he is in 
 New Orleans to send the professor some entries 
 and dates from the church register. These things, 
 it seems, are necessary to wind up the estate." 
 
 " Did you know Mr. Carreau ? " Miss Hoi- 
 brook asked, innocently. 
 
 Mr. Milltrum turned away his head, flicked the 
 ashes from his cigar, then looked wistfully at the 
 mountain along whose rocky path he had travelled 
 that morning. 
 
 Miss Holbrook felt that her question had 
 touched some tender memory in Mr. Milltrum's 
 heart, and was sorry she had asked it. Glancing 
 around to see that they were alone, Mr. Milltrum 
 said: 
 
 " An old man's story is usually a dull, stupid 
 affair. But I feel in the mood, Miriam, for tell- 
 ing you one." 
 
 It was not a long story. Tragedies seldom are. 
 The comedian may smile and grimace to almost 
 any length, because wit and jest have no relations 
 with sorrow or death. But when people are 
 speaking of shattered hopes, broken hearts, ruined 
 lives, desolate homes, their words are not as 
 rockets that bespangle the heavens, but as the bell 
 that tolls when one is carried to his burial. 
 
 More than once Miriam wiped the hot tears
 
 338 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 from her cheeks. Again and again the sob came 
 to her throat. And when Mr. Milltrum had fin- 
 ished she took his hand lovingly in hers and kissed 
 it, as she would the hand of a king. 
 
 She now understood why Paul Bedford had 
 married Judith Carreau, and just as clearly why 
 the marriage was such a miserable failure. 
 
 But that night, even while she slept, the face 
 of Judith troubled her, and in her dreams she 
 could see the eyes gleam maliciously, and the lips 
 curl with contempt.
 
 V. 
 
 " MIRIAM ! O MIRIAM ! 
 
 W 
 
 HEN the Milltrum party returned to In- 
 terlaken three days later, Paul Bedford found a 
 letter from Mr. Saxby, which stated that Mrs. 
 Saxby's health was so far restored as to permit 
 her removal from Paris, and that Doctor Bar- 
 rington, who was with them at the Continental, 
 strongly urged their going to Switzerland. Mr. 
 Saxby added that he had written to the Victoria, 
 and hoped they would reach Interlaken before 
 Paul left for London. 
 
 Going to the hotel office, Paul learned that the 
 Saxbys were expected that evening, Mr. Saxby 
 having so wired them the day before. 
 
 Paul was at the station when the train came in. 
 Mrs. Saxby saw him before he saw her, and 
 greeted him as a mother would her son. To 
 Mrs. Saxby Paul seemed strangely related. In 
 his presence she was able somehow to recall the 
 absent Miriam. When he was near she could 
 not be persuaded that Miriam was far away, and 
 at such times she would listen for her voice, or 
 
 339
 
 340 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 glance about the room to see if she were not 
 present. 
 
 With Paul living 1 , it was difficult to convince 
 Mrs. Saxby that Miriam was really dead. Nat- 
 urally, she was distressed when he married Judith 
 Carreau, and at first resented it keenly. But when 
 Paul told her the circumstances of his marriage, 
 and the nature of his obligations to Mr. Milltrum, 
 she at once acquitted him of any disloyalty toward 
 Miriam. Indeed, she was more deeply attached 
 to him than ever, as she now knew positively that 
 Judith could never take Miriam's place in his 
 heart. 
 
 " You see, Paul, we are travelling in state," 
 Mr. Saxby said, pleasantly, as Doctor Keithburn 
 and Doctor Barrington got into the hotel coach 
 with their party. 
 
 " You certainly have a royal chaplain," Paul 
 replied, as he smiled at Doctor Keithburn, " and 
 as a court physician Doctor Barrington easily 
 heads the list." 
 
 " We are only obscure Pelhamites, far from 
 the land of our fathers," Doctor Keithburn re- 
 marked, in his quaint way. 
 
 " Pious pilgrims in quest of holy knowledge," 
 Doctor Barrington added. 
 
 " Such modesty overwhelms me," Paul sug- 
 gested, slyly. 
 
 " As a Wall Street flower, a dainty, delicate, 
 timid little thing, you are of course easily over-
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 
 
 whelmed," Doctor Keithburn observed, sympa- 
 thetically. 
 
 " As a quiet, retired spot, where men become 
 glaringly modest, Wall Street deserves the parch- 
 ment with the double seal," Doctor Barrington 
 said, insinuatingly. 
 
 By this time the coach was drawing up to the 
 hotel, and soon the Saxby party had gone to their 
 rooms to dress for dinner. 
 
 Oh entering the dining-room with Mrs. Saxby, 
 Paul glanced over to the corner where Mrs. Hoi- 
 brook and Miriam usually sat, but from the ap- 
 pearance of their table it was evident they were 
 not expected to dinner. Miss Milltrum was also 
 absent from her accustomed place, but Maud ex- 
 plained that her sister, with the Holbrooks, had 
 gone to the Jungfrau to meet some friends who 
 had just arrived. 
 
 After dinner there was the usual adjournment 
 to the veranda, where the ladies sipped their coffee, 
 and the gentlemen smioked their cigars, both func- 
 tions being materially enhanced by Mr. Milltrum's 
 humorous account of the Gemmi Pass escapade. 
 
 " Next time I will chaperon a young ladies' 
 boarding-school. I am now qualified for it. Of 
 course, there are compensations. One hour you 
 are shivering with cold, the next hour baking 
 in the heat; then again you will be as hungry as 
 a bear, and at another time dying for a drink. 
 Don't miss it, Doctor Barrington, it is the oppor-
 
 342 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 tunity of a life. And be sure to have Doctor 
 Keithburn go with you. You will inspire him 
 with everlasting gratitude. My nieces, I think, 
 would like to go again. Maud is just aching for 
 another chance. We were gone only four days, 
 but red-letter days they surely were. Perhaps 
 you could persuade Mr. Saxby to go. He shakes 
 his head. Well, don't let that discourage you. 
 Parties go from here every day. And some of 
 them come back to gloat and glory in their 
 achievement. I am doing that now gloating 
 over the victims who will start from the hotel 
 to-morrow, and glorying in the hope of recover- 
 ing the use of my feet some time between now and 
 Christmas." 
 
 " I made that trip when I was a student in an 
 insane hospital," Doctor Barrington said, with 
 inimitable gravity. 
 
 " And I when I was a patient under Doctor 
 Barrington's care," Doctor Keithburn solemnly 
 remarked. 
 
 " And I a few months before getting married, 
 as a preparation for the troubles of matrimony," 
 Mr. Saxby added, smiling at his wife, whose chair 
 was next to that of Paul Bedford. 
 
 Later in the evening most of the party went 
 to the Kursaal, only Mrs. Saxby and Paul re- 
 mlaining on the veranda. They sat talking ear- 
 nestly, for they had many things to say to each 
 other, though Miriam was the chief subject of
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 343 
 
 their conversation. Slowly the light faded from 
 the sky and the shadows gathered on the distant 
 mountains. But the cool, calm twilight was de- 
 licious, especially to Mrs. Saxby, who had so 
 recently left Paris, where the heat had been almost 
 unendurable. 
 
 " I have been so desirous of seeing you, Paul, 
 particularly for some weeks past, for I have had 
 the strangest dreams no, I can't call them 
 dreams, in fact, I don't know what to call them 
 about Miriam. Do you know, I had an im- 
 pression that she was in Paris! That Sunday 
 when you came to our hotel with Doctor Keith- 
 burn I distinctly felt her presence." 
 
 How well Paul remembered that Sunday ! But 
 how singular that Mrs. Saxby, who was unable 
 to go to the American Chapel, and consequently 
 did not see the mysterious stranger there, should 
 have been so influenced! 
 
 " You look surprised, Paul, and I don't won- 
 der at it; nevertheless, if you had told me that 
 Sunday you had seen Miriam in the Amer- 
 ican Chapel, it wouldn't have startled me in the 
 least. I am serious, Paul." 
 
 And Paul knew she was by her face, her 
 manner, and the earnestness with which she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Of course I never speak of these things ex- 
 cept to you. Even Mr. Saxby doesn't know any- 
 thing about them. I once gave Doctor Barring-
 
 344 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 ton a hint which he might have followed up, but 
 instead he wrote a prescription." 
 
 Like most physicians, Doctor Harrington be- 
 lieved that a sound .body was essential to a sound 
 mind, and, as it was his business to take care of 
 the body, he usually made thorough work of it. 
 
 " Then lately, Paul, I have had such a long- 
 ing to come here. And I don't understand it. 
 There is really nothing in the place for me. Mr. 
 Saxby, I know, would have much preferred Lu- 
 cerne. He said I would find more of an American 
 colony there, a*hd probably a number of my 
 friends. But I wanted to come here." 
 
 " And that, of course, settled it," Paul said, 
 with a smile. " My only regret is that you didn't 
 come a month ago. This is a quiet, restful spot, 
 and I am certain it will do you lots of good. Mrs. 
 Holbrook, a friend of Miss Milltrum, came here 
 last month, and her health was wonderfully im- 
 proved. I am awfully sorry that I must leave 
 to-morrow." 
 
 As Paul spoke he observed Miss Holbrook 
 and Miss Milltrum go across the street to a 
 curio shop much patronized by tourists, and then 
 a few moments later he saw Miss Holbrook come 
 slowly up the path which led to the hotel veranda. 
 As the Jungfrau, where she had been visiting, 
 was within speaking distance of the Victoria, 
 Miss Holbrook, following the custom of Inter- 
 laken, was without hat or wrap, save a dainty
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 345 
 
 little shawl thrown loosely over her shoulders. 
 In accordance with an almost invariable rule, her 
 dinner-gown was of soft white silk, and made 
 after a style from which she rarely departed. 
 
 As Paul looked at her he was instantly re- 
 minded of the Miriam of Pelham days, and, 
 though the resemblance no longer startled him 
 as at first, there were times when it seemed 
 strangely impressive. 
 
 Then it suddenly occurred to him that in Mrs. 
 Saxby's weak and nervous condition, the appear- 
 ance of Miss Holbrook might seriously affect her. 
 And especially such an appearance as she then 
 made. For there was nothing lacking to complete 
 the illusion. The twilight only heightened the 
 effect. He must, therefore, in some way, divert 
 her attention, at least until Miss Holbrook had 
 entered the hotel, and then he would cautiously 
 broach the matter of her strange resemblance 
 to the Miriam whom they both so lovingly 
 remembered. 
 
 "Have you seen this?" he asked, excitedly, 
 taking a package from his pocket and opening 
 it with unwonted eagerness. 
 
 But he was too late. 
 
 "Miriam! Miriam! My darling! My dar- 
 ling ! " Mrs. Saxby cried, and starting from the 
 chair she ran down the veranda steps, and throw- 
 ing her arms around Miss Holbrook's neck kissed 
 her again and again.
 
 346 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Paul, she is not dead ! She has only been 
 away. And now she has come back again. O 
 Miriam ! My Miriam ! " 
 
 Then with feverish strength she drew Miss 
 Holbrook's head upon her breast, and embraced 
 her with a tenderness of which only a mother 
 is capable. 
 
 Fortunately for Miss Holbrook, Paul had told 
 her that the Saxbys were coming to Interlaken, 
 and with his own story so vivid in her mind, she 
 was able to understand something of the feeling 
 which possessed-Mrs. Saxby. She did not, there- 
 fore, attempt to remove herself from Mrs. 
 Saxby's arms. Neither did she have any desire 
 to do so. Nor did she refuse any of the kisses 
 that were being lavished upon her. She even 
 returned them, and with a passion that was almost 
 startling. To Paul, who was the only witness 
 of this strange scene, it seemed as a meeting of 
 mother and daughter after years of separation. 
 
 But a shock so sudden and overwhelming was 
 too much for Mrs. Saxby, weakened as she was 
 by a serious protracted sickness, and with the 
 words, " Miriam ! My Miriam ! " she swooned 
 away. Paul tenderly carried her back to her 
 chair on the veranda, when Miss Holbrook said, 
 quietly, " Leave her with me. Send to the Kur- 
 saal for Mr. Saxby. Miss Milltrum is just across 
 the street. Tell her to come." 
 
 Very soon Miss Holbrook had all the assist-
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 347 
 
 ance necessary, and when Mr. Saxby arrived 
 with Doctor Barrington, Mrs. Saxby was resting 
 easily in her own room. 
 
 Later in the evening Doctor Barrington asked 
 Paul Bedford to state the circumstances under 
 which Mrs. Saxby had been so affected. Paul 
 told him, beginning with the impression first made 
 upon himself in the American Chapel, then his 
 meeting with Miss Holbrook in Interlaken, finally 
 describing the scene so distressful to Mrs. Saxby. 
 
 " Then it is more than a mere resemblance ? " 
 Doctor Barrington asked. " Sometimes, you 
 know, there are tricks of features and reproduc- 
 tions of expression, which at first are very 
 marked, but afterwards we discover how deeply 
 we have been mistaken." 
 
 " I have often been deceived," Doctor Keith- 
 burn remarked, who had listened attentively to 
 Paul's story, " but the surprising thing to me 
 is the in frequency with which nature repeats her- 
 self. Considering that we are all more or less 
 alike, it is really marvellous that we can maintain 
 our identity." 
 
 " Of about the same height, as you say Miss 
 Holbrook is, dressed as Miriam was in the habit 
 of dressing, with just light enough to impart a 
 certain mysterious quality, and then your conver- 
 sation undoubtedly awaking tender memories 
 in Mrs. Saxby's mind, I can readily see why she 
 was moved so strangely. Besides, the trip from
 
 348 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paris must have fatigued her. But she insisted 
 on coming right through. I never knew her to 
 be really obstinate before. I warned her again 
 and again, but to no purpose. Now we have the 
 result." 
 
 Doctor Barrington had indeed cause for com- 
 plaint. Most faithfully, but with rare tenderness, 
 he had cautioned Mrs. Saxby, urging her to make 
 the journey by easy stages, and giving her sub- 
 stantial reasons for his advice. Usually she was 
 very obedient to her medical adviser. And for 
 Doctor Barrington she entertained profound re- 
 spect. For thirty years he had been coming to 
 her home, and her confidence in his skill was 
 unbounded. But in this instance she would not 
 be guided by him, and, with what seemed sheer 
 obstinacy, allowed herself hardly any rest until 
 she reached Interlaken. 
 
 " She won't get over this for weeks," he said, 
 sadly. " Anything relating to Miriam affects her 
 strangely. It is nearly ten years since Miriam 
 died, but Mrs. Saxby at times feels it as keenly 
 as when the dear girl was buried. What a sweet 
 child she was ! " 
 
 As Doctor Barrington spoke he rose from his 
 chair and walked to the end of the veranda, 
 where he stood for a few minutes watching the 
 light die away in the sky. Then he came back 
 and sat down again. And it was now almost 
 dark, as dark as it ever is in Switzerland during
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 349 
 
 August, for the evening twilight like a dissolving 
 view only fades into that of the morning, with 
 almost nothing of real night between. For some 
 time the three men sat in silence, each busy with 
 his own thoughts. Then a soft voice was heard : 
 
 " Mr. Bedford, may I speak with you a 
 moment ? " 
 
 Instinctively all three turned in the direction of 
 the speaker, when Doctor Keithburn exclaimed, 
 "Merciful heavens, it is Miriam Saxby!" 
 
 " No, not Miriam Saxby, but Miss Holbrook," 
 Paul said in a low, intense tone, glancing at 
 Doctor Barrington, who stood intently regarding 
 the figure which had also startled him. 
 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen," Paul added, going 
 to the door at which Miss Holbrook was stand- 
 ing. 
 
 " Doctor Barrington thinks she will be all right 
 in the morning," they could hear him say. 
 " Please do not allow yourself to be anxious 
 about her. And won't you try to get some rest, 
 Miss Holbrook. I feel distressed on your ac- 
 count." 
 
 " I am so sorry that this happened, Mr. Bed- 
 ford," they could hear her say, and the voice 
 seemed as that of the Miriam whom they had both 
 known so well. " It was, perhaps, thoughtless of 
 me, but I never imagined " the rest died away 
 in a whisper. 
 
 Then they heard :
 
 350 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Good night, Miss Holbrook. I may see you 
 in the morning; if not, good-by." 
 
 After this followed a soft murmur, when the 
 door shut gently, and Paul came back to his chair 
 on the veranda. 
 
 " I am not surprised now at Mrs. Saxby's de- 
 lusion," Doctor Keithburn said, " the resemblance 
 is simply wonderful. What possible explanation 
 is there, Doctor Barrington, for such a thing ? " 
 
 " There may be some distant relationship, a 
 family connection that might account for it. 
 Heredity is a curious thing. Nothing is more 
 uncertain or freaky. Sometimes children in the 
 direct line will be ignored, and the distinct family 
 likeness apparently die out, and then it will sud- 
 denly reappear in some branch or offshoot where 
 no one expected it. In this case the resemblance 
 is most remarkable. No wonder Mrs. Saxby 
 was overcome. I had to give her an opiate, a 
 heavy one, too, and I confess to some anxiety 
 when she returns to consciousness." 
 
 " She will probably remember the experience 
 of this evening? " Doctor Keithburn asked. 
 
 " That depends. She may regard it as a dream 
 or hallucination, and consequently say nothing 
 about it. Two or three times in Paris she was 
 disposed to be visionary, but I gave her no en- 
 couragement. She will hesitate, therefore, before 
 mentioning this to me." 
 
 " But she is bound to see Miss Holbrook almost
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 351 
 
 any time, and what then ? " It was Paul who 
 spoke. 
 
 " Frankly, I don't know. Of course Miss Hoi- 
 brook can't be spirited away, neither can she be 
 kept in hiding until Mrs. Saxby leaves Interlaken. 
 I wish she could be persuaded to go with you 
 to-morrow. That would simplify matters im- 
 mensely and give Mrs. Saxby a chance to work 
 out of her nervous, morbid condition." 
 
 " Are you serious in this suggestion ? " Paul 
 asked, with singular anxiety. 
 
 " Not serious in suggesting that Miss Holbrook 
 be asked to surrender her claims and privileges 
 here to accommodate Mrs. Saxby. That would 
 be preposterous. Nevertheless I am serious in 
 wishing she could go with you to London by the 
 morning train." 
 
 " Of course I couldn't propose such a thing." 
 
 " Certainly not. But I intend seeing her in the 
 morning, and learning, if possible, something of 
 her plans. At all hazards, Mrs. Saxby must be 
 kept very quiet for a day or two." 
 
 There was no need for Doctor Barrington to 
 be concerned regarding the movements of Miss 
 Holbrook. Wise, indeed, is the man who allows 
 a wide margin for the improbable and the unex- 
 pected. It is the mysterious to-morrow that 
 makes life such a wondrous thing. 
 
 While Doctor Barrington, with clouded brow 
 and anxious heart, was carefully considering what
 
 352 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 he would say to Miss Holbrook in the morning, 
 and if possible relieve his patient from serious 
 complications, a telegram was flashing over the 
 wires from London. It was addressed to Mrs. 
 Holbrook, and read : 
 
 " Come at once Murray seriously ill. I am 
 very anxious. BERTHA." 
 
 In less than an hour Mrs. Holbrook was pre- 
 paring to leave for London by the morning train. 
 Murray was the^only brother of her late husband, 
 and Bertha was his wife, a dear, sweet, but de- 
 lightfully helpless woman, no more fitted to cope 
 with this rough, brawling world, than duchess 
 lace is for the mainsail of a pilot-boat. No 
 sooner, therefore, had Mrs. Holbrook received 
 the telegram than she wired a reply, and at once 
 began her preparations for the journey. 
 
 " Didn't I hear you say that Mr. Bedford was 
 going to London to-morrow ? " she asked Miriam, 
 who was assisting the maid in packing their 
 trunks. 
 
 For the moment Miriam had forgotten Paul 
 Bedford's intention of leaving on the morning 
 train. Her mother's question, however, vividly 
 recalled his words of parting on the hotel veranda 
 only a few hours before. She remembered also 
 her peculiar feeling of sadness at hearing him 
 bid her good-by. Perhaps she was mistaken,
 
 "MIRIAM! O MIRIAM!" 353 
 
 still she imagined that, instead of the formal 
 "Miss Holbrook," he had said "Miriam!" 
 But even more distinctly there came back the 
 recollection of her almost uncontrollable impulse 
 to say " Paul," and as she thought of this her face 
 flushed in confusion. 
 
 " I believe Mr. Bedford is going to-morrow," 
 she answered in as steady a voice as was possible 
 just then. 
 
 " I am very glad. It will be so much pleasanter 
 for us. And I like him exceedingly. He is my 
 ideal of a well-bred American gentleman. By the 
 way, Miriam, I heard that Mr. and Mrs. Saxby, 
 intimate friends of Mr. Bedford, had just come 
 from Paris. He may postpone his journey on 
 their account. But I hope not. Dear me, how 
 selfish I am ! " 
 
 When Mrs. Holbrook mentioned the Saxbys, 
 Miriam thought that her mother must have heard 
 of the veranda incident, colored and exaggerated, 
 and might question her as to its meaning. She 
 was, therefore, much relieved to learn that Mrs. 
 Saxby's sad illusion and its unfortunate result had 
 not yet reached her mother's ears. 
 
 While the packing was going on in the Hol- 
 brook apartments, Paul Bedford was just as busy 
 in his, and though he would not leave Interlaken 
 unless Doctor Barrington's report of Mrs. 
 Saxby's condition warranted his doing so, matters 
 in London were urgent and called for immediate
 
 354 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 attention. Very early he went to Doctor Barring- 
 ton's room, and learned that Mrs. Saxby had 
 slept soundly most of the night, and, unless 
 hindered in some unexpected way, her recovery 
 was only a matter of time. 
 
 So Paul left by the hotel coach, little dream- 
 ing that the Holbrooks had already started for the 
 station in a carriage ordered the night before. 
 Judge then of his surprise when he saw Mrs. Hoi- 
 brook and Miriam waiting on the platform. 
 There was little time for lengthy explanations, 
 and just as littler need of them. Soon the travel- 
 lers had taken their places and were on their way 
 to London.
 
 VI. 
 
 A DAY AT SEA 
 
 Ti 
 
 HE journey from Interlaken to London, 
 lacking the charm of novelty, and being made 
 with all possible haste, afforded little enjoyment 
 to any of the travellers, and for some time a 
 measure of restraint seemed to prevail. Mrs. 
 Holbrook, an exceedingly gracious and enter- 
 taining woman, quick to note and appreciate any- 
 thing worth seeing, and by no means lacking a 
 sense of humor, spoke but seldom, and then 
 merely in reply to some inquiry; while her face 
 had a worn, anxious look, the result, doubtless, 
 of the telegram announcing Mr. Murray Hoi- 
 brook's dangerous sickness. Miriam sat by the 
 window looking at the country through which 
 the train was speeding, her thoughts meanwhile 
 busy with the strange events of the past weeks. 
 She went back to that day in the American Chapel, 
 when she saw Mr. Bedford for the first time, and 
 recalled most distinctly the singular emotions his 
 presence aroused in her heart. Then she thought 
 of their meeting a few weeks later in Interlaken. 
 
 355
 
 356 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 What a meeting that was ! With what intentness 
 they had looked at each other, both evidently 
 afraid to ask the question that was so eager for 
 expression! Then she remembered, and with 
 startling vividness, the evening on the Gemmi, 
 when Paul Bedford told her the story of his life. 
 How strange it was, and how unlike anything 
 she had ever heard before! Most wonderfully 
 that story had been corroborated by Mrs. Saxby, 
 whose pathetic cry, " Miriam ! O Miriam ! " 
 kept ringing in her ears. 
 
 Nor did she -fail to recall the exclamation of 
 Doctor Keithburn the night before at her appear- 
 ance on the hotel veranda, or the look of amaze- 
 ment on the face of Doctor Barrington. 
 
 But while all these things perplexed her, deeper 
 far was the mystery hidden in her own heart. 
 Her extraordinary likeness to Miriam Saxby 
 might in some way be explained. Such things, 
 though rare, were not unknown. What really 
 troubled her was the feeling that in some mysteri- 
 ous way her life was gradually blending with that 
 of Paul Bedford, nor was it as the coming to- 
 gether of two separate rivers uniting in a common 
 stream, but rather as if some dividing barrier had 
 been removed and the seas again made one. 
 
 Miriam Holbrook was not a sentimentalist. 
 Neither was she possessed with a high and foolish 
 spirit of romance. Those who knew her best were 
 wont to speak of her freedom from many of the
 
 A DAY AT SEA 357 
 
 vagaries common to young womanhood. It may 
 have been that the responsibilities involved by 
 her father's death, and the need of her mother 
 for special care, developed a maturity far beyond 
 her years, but when other girls of her age were 
 full of dreams and fancies, she was taken up with 
 concerns of infinitely greater moment. No 
 wonder, therefore, she was much perplexed re- 
 garding her mysterious relationship with Paul 
 Bedford. And every day the mystery only deep- 
 ened. 
 
 Paul Bedford, in his corner of the railway car- 
 riage, was also doing some serious thinking. 
 Tolerably certain of himself and of his ability 
 to hold his feelings under control, yet since that 
 night on the Gemmi he had been anxious to leave 
 Interlaken, and in the excitement of business for- 
 get, if possible, the influences that were encircling 
 him. The remembrance of that night was any- 
 thing but pleasant to Paul Bedford. Indeed he 
 was angry with himself for having spoken as 
 he did. He felt that he had taken an unfair 
 advantage of Miss Holbrook. In no way could 
 he justify himself. He realized that he had 
 played an unworthy part. Gladly would he have 
 effaced the whole scene from his memory. But 
 that he was unable to do, for it came back to him 
 again and again, each time seemingly with more 
 distinctness than before. Hence he was sincerely 
 glad that urgent business compelled his immedi-
 
 358 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 ate return to London, hoping thus to liberate 
 Miss Holbrook from the restraint involved by 
 his presence, and at the same time secure for him- 
 self an opportunity to escape from a position 
 daily more embarrassing. 
 
 But how futile were his efforts! For here in 
 the same carriage was Miriam on her way to 
 London, and in a measure under his care. It 
 seemed like destiny. 
 
 Of course he contrived to make the journey 
 comparatively easy, but railroad travelling on the 
 continent in the' heat and dust of August is not 
 an unmixed pleasure. At Calais Mrs. Holbrook 
 wisely retired to her stateroom, for the sail to 
 Dover, though short, has various possibilities of 
 discomfort. Miriam, however, remained on deck 
 despite the rough sea and the heavy sky, which 
 lowered and threatened all the way across. In 
 a steamer-chair, and measurably protected against 
 the wind and spray, she seemed to enjoy the 
 churning, restless waters, the swift motion of 
 the ship, and even the sky, though so sullen and 
 dangerous. Occasionally she would close her eyes, 
 only to hear more intently the swish of the waves 
 beating against the steamer, or the rough blasts 
 which at times sounded in the funnel like a giant's 
 horn. She was not in the mood for speech, at 
 least not until, when within a short distance of 
 the English coast, she took Paul Bedford's arm 
 for a brisk promenade on the upper deck.
 
 A DAY AT SEA 359 
 
 " There is surely Viking blood in my veins," 
 she said, as they looked back over the channel in 
 which the steamer's tracks were sharply defined. 
 " I am a veritable child of the sea. It is simply 
 a passion with me. Of course I enjoy the moun- 
 tains, that is, after a fashion. I recognize their 
 sublimity, and at times they strangely impress 
 me, but I never fell in love with a mountain. 
 Not even in Switzerland did I see one concern- 
 ing which I would care to use my leap-year priv- 
 ilege." 
 
 " The average mountain is not unduly respon- 
 sive," Paul replied, as he rioted the color tinge 
 her cheeks, the eager flash of her eyes, and the 
 kindling light on her face. " But don't blame 
 the mountain. It is a solid, substantial affair, 
 not given to the emotions of which most mortals 
 are capable." 
 
 " Exactly where it differs from the sea," she 
 responded, earnestly, " for the sea is almost 
 human in its moods and feelings. Sometimes it 
 fairly rages with passion, a mad, mighty, terrible 
 rage, as though stirred to its depths with an anger 
 as fierce as it is uncontrollable. Then again it 
 sobs and moans so plaintively that one would 
 think it had a soul, and that soul was crying 
 out in despair. At other times how it throws 
 itself on the beach with the glee and frolic of a 
 child ! Who knows but I was a Viking centuries 
 ago?"
 
 360 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Paul glanced keenly at the eager, sensitive face 
 which unconsciously had reflected the changing 
 moods of the sea, passing from anger to sorrow, 
 and from sorrow to gladness, just as the waves 
 caught the sunlight or the shadows that fell from 
 the sky. Then he wondered if Miss Holbrook 
 had ever heard Miss Milltrum propound the 
 theory so tenaciously held by one of her friends. 
 Perhaps she divined his thought, for Miss Hol- 
 brook continued : 
 
 " You are not shocked, I hope, Mr. Bedford, 
 at my suggestion of having been a Viking. Se- 
 riously, the idea of a former life has often oc- 
 curred to me. But I seldom refer to it. Once 
 when the conditions were suggestive, and desiring 
 to learn his views, for Miss Milltrum had spoken 
 several times of her friend, I mentioned the sub- 
 ject to Mr. Milltrum, and told him of - Then 
 she paused, and flushed uneasily, suddenly remem- 
 bering Mr. Bedford's relation to that conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " Mr. Milltrum rarely allows himself to leave 
 the ground," Paul said, pleasantly. " As a flying- 
 machine he is not a brilliant success. In fact, 
 he has more foot and less wing than even the 
 average man, and that is saying a good deal, for 
 the average man is of the earth earthy." 
 
 " If you put it that way, there can be only one 
 reply. Mr. Milltrum is a very definite and practi- 
 cal man, the result largely of his business life.
 
 A DAY AT SEA 361 
 
 Still there have been times when his keen, search- 
 ing eyes have sought for a break or cranny in 
 the wall, hoping to discover something on the 
 other side. 
 
 " How strangely things are hidden from us ! 
 There is really nothing in life but mystery. It 
 begins in darkness, and it ends in death. So far 
 as material things are concerned, we are, in some 
 respects, better off than my Viking ancestors, but 
 life itself is even less understood now than then. 
 Sometimes I think we are only as so many tele- 
 graph-poles, upon which invisible and mysterious 
 wires are strung, utterly ignorant, however, of the 
 messages constantly flashing from one office to 
 another. But, excuse me, Mr. Bedford, I don't 
 often let myself go after this fashion. The sea, 
 though, is really responsible. Mai de mer with 
 me takes this form. It is a part of my Viking 
 heritage." 
 
 Then they began to talk of other things, and 
 ere long the steamer was at its dock, and the 
 travellers on their way to London. On arriving 
 at the Langham, they learned that Mr. Holbrook 
 had experienced a slight paralytic shock, and 
 though there was no immediate cause for alarm, 
 his wife was nervous and anxious. Later in the 
 day she said, tearfully, to Mrs. Holbrook and 
 Miriam : 
 
 " I don't think I should feel so distressed if we 
 were at home. The people here have been very
 
 362 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 kind, and Sir Wallace Russell, who has been 
 attending Murray, is, I am sure, as skilful as any 
 physician in New York, but he is not like Doctor 
 Malvern, our own family doctor. And Murray 
 is very anxious to get home. Almost the first 
 thing he said when he could speak was to ask 
 me to make arrangements for sailing on the ear- 
 liest available steamer. But the steamers are all 
 crowded. I can't get any kind of accommodations 
 until late in September. I haven't dared to tell 
 Murray, as it will be such a disappointment." 
 
 " But, Bertha, I don't see how you could pos- 
 sibly take Murray home as he is now. He is 
 almost helpless. Wouldn't it be better to wait for 
 three or four weeks? We will stay with you, 
 and you know what a splendid nurse Miriam 
 is." ' 
 
 " Now that you and Miriam are here, of course 
 I feel differently about staying. But Murray is 
 as anxious as ever. Not an hour ago he was ask- 
 ing me when we were going to sail. That tele- 
 gram which came a few minutes since was from 
 the Cunard office, saying that the room which 
 had been conditionally promised to me was now 
 definitely engaged by the party to whom it had 
 been first assigned. I am just about at my wit's 
 end." 
 
 And the dear woman looked exactly as she 
 felt, which, under the circumstances, was not to 
 be wondered at.
 
 A DAY AT SEA 363 
 
 " Perhaps Mr. Bedford could help you," 
 Miriam suggested. 
 
 "Who is Mr. Bedford?" Mrs. Murray Hoi- 
 brook eagerly inquired. 
 
 " Uncle Murray, I am sure, knows him. He 
 is a partner of Mr. Milltrum." 
 
 "Of Milltrum Brothers?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And is he in London? " 
 
 " He came with us from Interlaken. The 
 Milltrums are there now," Mrs. Holbrook an- 
 swered. 
 
 " Where can I see him ? How can I reach him ? 
 Every moment is of importance. Is there any 
 way, Miriam, of communicating with him ? " 
 Mrs. Murray Holbrook was evidently resolved to 
 follow up the possibility suggested by Miriam. 
 
 " Mr. Bedford, I believe, has rooms in this 
 hotel. I am positive he expects to be here for 
 dinner. Anyhow, we can leave a message at the 
 office." 
 
 " Yes, but the steamer offices will be closed 
 long before then. And that means another day. 
 I don't care anything about myself, but I know 
 how your Uncle Murray feels. I almost dread 
 going to his room, for he is sure to ask me about 
 it. Can't we do anything before dinner? No 
 one dines here until eight or after." 
 
 Seeing that her aunt was in such distress, Miss 
 Holbrook went down-stairs, and ere long was at
 
 364 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 the telephone, a hotel clerk having given her the 
 London address of Milltrum Bros. Fortunately, 
 Paul Bedford was in the office, and at once prom- 
 ised his assistance. Then he added: 
 
 " Tell Mrs. Murray Holbrook to have no 
 anxiety whatever. I have a room on the White 
 Star steamer leaving a week from Wednesday. 
 I will arrange for its transfer to her. I may 
 be able to do even better, but cannot say now." 
 
 When Miss Holbrook returned with Paul's 
 message, her aunt immediately went to the room 
 of the anxious patient, and gladdened his heart 
 by telling him the day she had arranged for their 
 leaving London, and the steamer on which they 
 expected to sail. 
 
 In a few days Mr. Murray Holbrook was able 
 to leave his room, and Sir Wallace Russell 
 pleasantly remarked one morning that much of 
 the improvement in his patient was due to the 
 hope of a speedy return to New York. 
 
 " Next to the Swiss, the Americans suffer most 
 from nostalgia," Sir Wallace said. " An English- 
 man will go to Africa or India, anywhere, in fact, 
 and, so long as he can get a London paper once 
 in awhile, or see a redcoat now and then, he is 
 quite contented, but an American is never happy 
 unless within hailing distance of New York. As 
 I remember New York, I was there two or 
 three years ago, it seemed in process of recon- 
 struction, new buildings going up, old buildings
 
 A DAY AT SEA 365 
 
 coming down, and with a suggestion of digging 
 in most of the streets. But I suppose everything 
 is settled now. How is it, Mr. Holbrook ? " 
 
 The idea of New York being settled, as Sir 
 Wallace Russell meant, caused Mr. Holbrook to 
 smile. 
 
 " Come over next year, Sir Wallace," he said, 
 cordially. " Make us a visit. Give Mrs. Hol- 
 brook and myself a chance to show how much 
 we appreciate your services. You have been very 
 kind, and we are profoundly grateful. As for 
 New York being settled, the probabilities are that 
 the buildings which were going up when you were 
 there have been torn down long since. Three 
 years is a long time in New York. But come 
 over, Sir Wallace/' 
 
 For a native-born American, whose forebears 
 were not unacquainted with Plymouth Rock, Mr. 
 Holbrook was surprisingly fond of giving Sir 
 Wallace Russell everything that belonged to him 
 by way of title; and the fact that a baronet, a 
 physician summoned at critical times to Windsor, 
 had been in attendance upon her husband, was by 
 no means displeasing to Mrs. Holbrook. 
 
 Three days before the day of sailing Mrs. 
 Murray Holbrook, who had been under a severe 
 strain for some time, and whose endurance for 
 the weeks of her husband's sickness was really 
 surprising, so relaxed nervously that Sir Wallace 
 Russell insisted that she should remain in Lon-
 
 366 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 don for several weeks, or that Mrs. Holbrook and 
 Miriam accompany her to New York. 
 
 Miriam was not prepared for this. She had in- 
 tended to return to Switzerland as soon as pos- 
 sible, and later to go into Italy, remaining for the 
 winter, hoping by this arrangement to make per- 
 manent the decided improvement in her mother's 
 health. Besides, she was aware that Mr. Bedford 
 expected to sail on the same ship with her Uncle 
 Murray and his wife, and, while she would not 
 willingly flinch from either duty or obligation, 
 under the circumstances the Continent had more 
 attractions than an ocean steamer. 
 
 But Sir Wallace Russell was obdurate. He 
 would give no consent to any other proposal. 
 
 So once more Paul Bedford's kindly offices 
 were sought, with the result that the Holbrook 
 contingent, himself included, were passengers on 
 the White Star steamer which sailed from Liver- 
 pool on the Wednesday following. 
 
 Much to Miriam's surprise, and pleasure as 
 well, the Milltrums were also on board, and, as 
 Mr. Milltrum had frequently met Mr. Murray 
 Holbrook in New York, the group soon resolved 
 itself into a family party. 
 
 True to her Viking ancestry, Miss Holbrook 
 was a good sailor; most of her time, therefore, 
 was spent on deck; neither did what the purser 
 called a " capful of wind " or a dash of " Scotch 
 mist " affect her perceptibly. She played shuffle-
 
 A DAY AT SEA 367 
 
 board with Mr. Milltrum, promenaded with Paul, 
 ventured on an occasional game of chess with her 
 uncle, conducted afternoon teas with the Misses 
 Milltrum, and managed to keep busy from morn- 
 ing to night. She carefully avoided either moon- 
 light or starlight tete-a-tetes with Paul Bedford, 
 though, to do him justice, he seemed equally 
 careful. No one looking at them, when tramping 
 up and down the deck, or in the general group, 
 would have suspected the singular relation in 
 which they stood to each other; and when alone 
 they never once referred to their experience in 
 Switzerland. By mutual consent that chapter 
 was sealed. Once Miriam was tempted to speak 
 of Mrs. Saxby, for naturally she had a desire to 
 know the result of their strange meeting in In- 
 terlaken. Still she refrained from making any 
 inquiries, lest other matters might be involved. 
 Fortunately, the Milltrums had not heard of the 
 Saxby episode, Doctor Barrington having man- 
 aged in some way to keep it within the circle 
 of those particularly interested. 
 
 One afternoon, when within a day of New 
 York, Miriam reclined contentedly in her 
 steamer-chair, enjoying the play of the sunlight 
 on the sea. Her mother had gone below, osten- 
 sibly to give some directions to their maid con- 
 cerning the packing incident to the coming 
 morrow, but in reality to have a quiet hour in 
 the seclusion of her own room, a custom by no
 
 368 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 means unusual with ladies whose fiftieth birth- 
 day is an affair of the past. Paul sat down 
 in Mrs. Holbrook's chair, then relieved Miriam 
 of a book which she was holding in her hand, 
 but not reading. The inscription on the fly- 
 leaf caught his eye, and, as he read 
 
 " To Miriam ; a birthday token from her 
 mother, August 3 " 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Holbrook, but does this 
 mean your birthday? " holding up the book open 
 at the inscription. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, wondering at his very 
 evident anxiety. 
 
 " Miriam Saxby was born on that day," he 
 said, in a strange, hushed voice, looking at Miss 
 Holbrook as he spoke. 
 
 For some time nothing was said, Miss Hol- 
 brook dreamily regarding the sea, Paul holding 
 ^he book reverently in his hand. But they were 
 both thinking intently, and both marvelled at the 
 strange coincidence. Finally, after a long pause, 
 Miriam inquired, in a tone barely audible: 
 
 " In what year was Miss Saxby born ? " 
 
 Paul told her. 
 
 Starting from her chair, she looked at him in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Mr. Bedford, Miss Saxby and I were born 
 at the same time, for I was born on the third of 
 August in the year that you have named." 
 
 Paul had not time to express his amazement
 
 A DAY AT SEA 369 
 
 at this second coincidence concerning the birth- 
 day of the two Miriams, for just then Mr. Mill- 
 trum appeared, rubbing his hands with the glee 
 of a boy, and saying that a pilot-boat was 
 sighted. 
 
 " Which means New York to-morrow in time 
 for early dinner, the captain says," he added, joy- 
 ously. 
 
 ' That is, provided you escape the custom- 
 house," Maud remarked, who at that moment was 
 worrying over the " declarations " essential to 
 such an escape. 
 
 " Or the hospitalities of Ellis Island," Miss 
 Milltrum suggested, " for you have been borrow- 
 ing money from me ever since we left Liverpool." 
 
 " Then there are the possibilities of quaran- 
 tine," Maud added. 
 
 " Or coming in under contract as a skilful 
 workman, and therefore being useful to the coun- 
 try," Miss Milltrum said, as she looked at her 
 uncle warningly. 
 
 " No trouble on that score, Peggy. The idea 
 of Uncle Lewis being useful to the country puts 
 a burden on my imagination to which it is not 
 equal." 
 
 " All because I couldn't marry them to a count 
 or a duke, Paul. Goodness knows I tried hard 
 enough. I think I might have done something 
 with Peggy if Maud hadn't been there, or with 
 Maud if Peggy had kept out of sight. I offered
 
 370 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 coal-mines, oil-springs, pork-yards, patent medi- 
 cine, but it wasn't any use. And now they abuse 
 me, and threaten me with all sorts of things. I 
 had two or three chances to dispose of Miss Hoi- 
 brook, but then " Before he could finish, Mr. 
 Milltrum was led off a willing captive by his 
 nieces, for he was never quite so happy as when 
 he had one on his arm, and plenty of deck-room 
 for a promenade. 
 
 Then Mr. and Mrs. Murray Holbrook came, 
 so that Miriam and Paul had no opportunity to 
 resume, their conversation. But Miriam's words 
 came back to him again and again : " Miss Saxby 
 and I were born at the same time, for I was 
 born on the third of August in the year you have 
 named."
 
 O 
 
 VII. 
 
 AT MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 
 
 N reaching New York, Paul Bedford found 
 business matters so serious and complicated as 
 to require all the energy he possessed. Desiring 
 to relieve Mr. Saxby of burdens that were taxing 
 him severely, with Mr. Milltrum's consent, the 
 firm of Saxby & Co. was absorbed by Milltrum 
 Bros., an arrangement which meant for Paul 
 more care and embarrassment than he had antici- 
 pated. For some time Mr. Saxby had not been 
 fortunate in his investments. His right hand had 
 lost its cunning. His mental vision was not so 
 clear as in former days. He might easily have 
 retired from business with a fortune ample for 
 all his needs, but, like a gambler anxious to win 
 back the money he had lost, he kept on taking 
 risks from which wiser men turned promptly 
 away. Then the inevitable followed. At this junc- 
 ture Mr. Crewe applied to Paul Bedford, who ar- 
 ranged matters with such delicacy that Mr. Saxby 
 never once suspected how deeply he was in- 
 volved. 
 
 871
 
 372 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 All this took place months before Paul went to 
 Europe with the Milltrums, and, while he knew 
 that the Saxby interests would require careful 
 handling, the statement given him on his return 
 by Mr. Crewe was more serious than he had 
 imagined. 
 
 A mysterious but powerful combination had 
 been formed in his absence, which seemed to 
 direct itself chiefly against the interests of 
 Milltrum Bros. Anything that Milltrum Bros, 
 favored, this combination opposed. If the one 
 sold up, the other sold down. And, like most 
 combinations, it was unscrupulous. Clerks in the 
 office of Milltrum Bros, were tampered with, and 
 plans, supposedly confidential, leaked out in the 
 strangest way. Who was behind all this Paul 
 could not even surmise. But the combination 
 had apparently unlimited capital, and during the 
 summer gave Mr. Crewe much anxiety. 
 
 Paul therefore devoted himself to business so 
 closely that he had little time for anything else. 
 Besides, he had a feeling that in the near future 
 a terrible battle would have to be fought, one re- 
 quiring his entire energy and resources. 
 
 The affairs of Milltrum Bros, evidently gave 
 Judith small concern, for soon after returning 
 from Newport she entered upon a series of din- 
 ners and receptions far exceeding anything she 
 had attempted since coming to New York. 
 
 Judith had made good use of her summer in
 
 MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 373 
 
 the Llandoff cottage. And her friend Mrs. 
 Helmsley had proved a valuable ally. Mrs. 
 Helmsley, though old enough to serve as chap- 
 eron, was exceedingly popular with the younger 
 set, and ere long Llandoff Cottage acquired a 
 distinction which could not be ignored. 
 
 Before the season was half over Judith was 
 invited everywhere, and while she was careful to 
 render Csesar his full due, she never failed to see 
 that Mrs. Caesar had no cause of complaint. 
 When she went out for the afternoon drive, men 
 eagerly sought her recognition, women smiled 
 upon her most graciously, while the hosts of 
 young, unmarried people of both sexes gave her 
 unbounded admiration. 
 
 It was known, of course, that Milltrum Bros, 
 had been specially cabled from Downing Street, 
 and that her husband had gone to London to 
 consult with the authorities regarding an English 
 loan. This explained his absence from Newport, 
 more satisfactorily, perhaps, than the absence of 
 some other husbands could be explained. 
 
 As Judith was tactful, discreet, with the South- 
 ern genius for hospitality, never once instituting 
 any form of rivalry, it is not surprising that 
 when the season closed her visiting-list included 
 families within whose doors no Milltrum had 
 been allowed to enter. 
 
 Not having seen or heard anything more of 
 the mysterious Yoba, Judith naturally concluded
 
 374 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 that his appearance in Nevada was an accident 
 with which she had no part whatever. So she 
 dismissed the matter from her mind. 
 
 " Doesn't Judith look gloriously handsome to- 
 night ? " Miss Milltrum asked Maud, as they 
 stood in the spacious parlor of the Bedford man- 
 sion, and observed the ease and grace with which 
 Mrs. Bedford received her guests. 
 
 " How superbly she is gowned," Maud said, 
 in reply. " Judith has no right to say ' My face 
 is my fortune/ for she has a fortune in her gown, 
 another in her figure, and still another in her 
 air. Just see her now with Lord Paddington. 
 One would think she had been brought up at 
 Windsor. There is Miriam Holbrook ! Surpris- 
 ing they have never met before. What a contrast 
 they make ! " 
 
 No wonder Maud spoke of the contrast be- 
 tween Judith and Miriam, as they stood for a 
 few moments regarding each other. It was a 
 meeting of the rose and the lily; the rose a 
 Jacqueminot, rich, deep, passionate; the lily an 
 Easter dawn, graceful, simple, exquisite. Judith 
 regal, imperious, commanding; her eyes flashing 
 proudly; her lips curving haughtily; every 
 movement the embodiment of grace and power. 
 Her gown, though brilliant, was sufficiently dark 
 to bring into splendid relief her dazzling neck 
 and shoulders, while the diamonds in her coils 
 of black, shining hair sparkled as against a back-
 
 MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 375 
 
 ground of sombre velvet. Miriam, in contrast, 
 was hardly of medium height, slight of form, 
 quiet of bearing; her gown was quaint in its sim- 
 plicity, and her jewels, unobtrusive pearls, were 
 worn less for effect than because they were a 
 recent birthday gift from her mother. 
 
 " Mrs. Bedford's crushes are the most popular 
 things in town," Bert Vernon said to Mr. Mill- 
 trum, whom he found in the passage leading to 
 the conservatory, where there happened to be 
 some breathing-space. " Everybody is here." 
 
 " There is one body that wouldn't be here if 
 its nominal owner had any say in the matter," 
 Mr. Milltrum replied, grimly. " Why can't we 
 be double-bodied, as guns are double-barrelled? 
 Then I could say to one body, the one capable 
 of every form of fatigue, that can stand on one 
 foot for half an hour at a time, can eat anything, 
 drink anything, say anything, lie gracefully, smile 
 perpetually, and do just what society expects, 
 you go out with Peggy and Maud. Then my 
 other body, the one that has some sense in it, 
 could remain at home, or find some amusement 
 worthy of rational beings. Bert, this honestly is 
 worse than crossing the Gemmi. Have you been 
 here long? " 
 
 " Nearly an hour." 
 
 "Want to go home?" 
 
 "Do you?" 
 
 " Wanted to before I came."
 
 376 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 At that moment Maud appeared. 
 
 " I have been looking everywhere for you, 
 Uncle Lewis. Madame Dernage is going to sing. 
 Don't you want to go to the music-room ? " 
 
 " Never wanted anything so much since I was 
 born. Where is Peggy ? She is over there, Bert. 
 Bring her in. Oh, the rapture of this moment ! " 
 
 "Hush!" 
 
 " Maud, you surprise me. For one glorious 
 hour I have stood in this hall, allowing myself 
 to be jostled and jammed, pushed and pulled, 
 walked over and sat on, and yet outwardly I 
 have not committed murder." 
 
 "But, uncle " 
 
 " And now to be permitted to tear and trample 
 my way into the music-room, with you clinging 
 tenderly to my arm, is a bliss which I don't 
 deserve. But I am not selfish. Bert, poor boy, 
 would have gone home only that I sent him after 
 Peggy. See how happy he looks! And there 
 is Clarence Fillmore smiling like a basket of chips, 
 persimmon chips, I mean. But, seriously, Maud, 
 something is the matter with Clarence. He looks 
 as if he had seen a ghost. Bless my soul, if he 
 isn't staring at Miss Holbrook as though she had 
 risen from the dead ! " 
 
 Clarence Fillmore's conduct most assuredly jus- 
 tified Mr. Milltrum's remark, for he kept looking 
 at Miriam in a way that could not fail to attract 
 attention. His eyes followed her across the room.
 
 MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 377 
 
 He scanned her face with obvious eagerness. Not 
 a movement or expression escaped him. Finally 
 his wife, who had not a drop of jealous blood in 
 her veins, nudged him, and then softly whispered : 
 
 " Miss Holbrook is very attractive, but please 
 don't stare at her so unmercifully." 
 
 " Holbrook ! " he whispered in reply. " Why, 
 Kitty, I could have sworn it was Miriam Saxby ! 
 The resemblance is simply wonderful. Even 
 Mrs. Saxby would be deceived by it." 
 
 Then Kitty remembered her voyage on the 
 Zidonia, when Paul Bedford in the eagerness of 
 romantic youth told her of Miss Saxby. And she 
 also remembered how tragically Paul's romance 
 had ended, for Clarence had written her the sad 
 story. 
 
 Just how no one could tell, but it soon was 
 whispered around that Miss Holbrook strikingly 
 resembled the Miriam Saxby of former days. 
 Hence before Madame Dernage had succeeded 
 for the third successive time in climbing the 
 gamutic ladder, and from thence diving into 
 waves of gleeful sound, many of Mrs. Bedford's 
 guests were regarding Miriam with curious and 
 interested eyes. 
 
 Later in the evening, when the formalities had 
 measurably relaxed, two of the younger matrons, 
 whose voices had attained a fair degree of sharp- 
 ness, so talked the matter over that Judith could 
 not but overhear their conversation.
 
 378 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " I never saw anything like it," one of them 
 said. " I could hardly believe my eyes. When 
 I saw her standing near the piano I almost 
 screamed." 
 
 " Then you were acquainted with Miss 
 Saxby?" the other asked. 
 
 " We were intimate friends. We were at Vas- 
 sar together. She was a lovely girl, and every 
 one just adored her." 
 
 " She died within a few months of her mar- 
 riage, I understand." 
 
 " Yes, and T don't wonder that Mr. Bedford 
 was so terribly shaken at the time. We all pitied 
 him, for he was simply devoted to her." 
 
 " And you say Miss Holbrook resembles 
 her?" 
 
 " I couldn't tell one from the other." 
 
 " Mr. Bedford has doubtless observed this sin- 
 gular resemblance." 
 
 " I am sure he has. He couldn't help it." 
 
 " There are certain possibilities " 
 
 '" Particularly when you remember that his 
 second marriage was a mere business affair. 
 Every one knows that." 
 
 " He was in Europe last summer. Mrs. Bed- 
 ford was in Newport. Business, of course," and 
 the speaker smiled significantly. 
 
 " Most of his time, however, in Switzerland 
 with the Milltrums. Miss Milltrum and Mrs. 
 Holbrook are old friends."
 
 MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 379 
 
 " So the Holbrooks were there at the same 
 time?" 
 
 " Yes ; Mrs. Arlington met the whole party 
 one evening at Interlaken." 
 
 " The situation is interesting." 
 
 " Very." 
 
 " And suggestive." 
 
 " Quite so." 
 
 Judith had no intention of playing the eaves- 
 dropper, but she could not move away from where 
 she was standing without betraying her presence 
 to the youthful matrons who had so frankly dis- 
 cussed the situation. 
 
 At first she listened indifferently, then with 
 languid attention, but finally with an eager desire 
 to catch every word. There was also a corre- 
 sponding change in her feelings, and when the 
 conversation closed she was wrought up to a 
 pitch of intense excitement. 
 
 Judith was fully aware of Paul's devotion 
 to the memory of Miriam Saxby. And she was 
 equally aware that the matrons had spoken the 
 truth when they referred to his second marriage 
 as " a mere business affair." 
 
 But it had never occurred to her that a second 
 Miriam might arise, to whom would be given 
 the love now spent upon the dead. For the dead 
 Miriam she cared nothing whatever. Hers was 
 not a nature to be much influenced by sentiment. 
 That Paul should frequently visit the little ceme-
 
 380 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 tery at Pelharn, be careful of the flowers on 
 Miriam's grave, observe her birthday in a way 
 peculiar to himself, and give manifest proofs of 
 his abiding love, did not affect Judith in the 
 least. There may, possibly, have been times when 
 she smiled at these things, but never openly. Once 
 or twice she had seen Paul angry, when lightning 
 flashed from his eyes, and there was a look on 
 his face the memory of which remained with 
 her. So, whatever her feelings were regarding 
 Miriam Saxby, she held them in perfect control. 
 But now that a new Miriam had come, not a 
 ghost nor a shadow, but a woman of flesh and 
 blood, of power and beauty, whose social rank 
 was equal to her own, and with whom Paul was 
 already on terms of friendship, it meant for 
 Judith a condition of things by no means enjoy- 
 able. For the first time since her marriage, she 
 entertained the feeling of jealousy. It was a 
 keen, sharp feeling, entering her heart like an 
 arrow, where it remained despite her smiling 
 face and gracious bearing. All at once she awoke 
 to the fact that Paul Bedford was worth fighting 
 for, and that she would not surrender him with- 
 out a vigorous struggle. Her Southern blood 
 was aroused. Her pride was assailed. The ques- 
 tion of supremacy had been raised. The gossipy 
 matrons, who doubtless represented many others, 
 would find that their suggestive hints and still 
 more significant smiles were valueless.
 
 MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 381 
 
 Going across the parlor to where Paul was 
 chatting pleasantly with the Milltrums, she laid 
 her hand on his arm with a more tender gesture 
 than she was wont, and, giving the group one 
 of her most alluring smiles, said: 
 
 " When are you coming, Uncle Lewis, to tell 
 me of your adventures in Switzerland? From 
 what Paul has said you must have had a delightful 
 time." 
 
 " I shall write a book, Judith. Such expe- 
 riences and adventures as mine should not be 
 limited to a family circle. So behold me as a 
 potential author." 
 
 " Will your book be published by subscription, 
 or on the instalment plan ? " 
 
 " Maud, somewhere in that question of yours, 
 curled up snugly, is a base insinuation. And I 
 resent it, as one who already feels the splendid 
 throes of authorship." 
 
 " I cannot vouch for the throes, but the slid- 
 ings and falls remain precious memories. There 
 were times, uncle, when I sighed for a ko- 
 dak." 
 
 " No doubt. So did I. Oftener perhaps than 
 you imagine. The female form divine shows 
 to singular advantage when scrambling in the 
 Swiss mountains. I have seen both you and 
 Peggy pose with remarkable aggressiveness/ 
 though just at that moment my ideal of womanly 
 beauty was not fully realized."
 
 382 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 "How about Miss Holbrook? She, I un- 
 derstand, was with you on these daring expedi- 
 tions." 
 
 Judith imagined that Paul's arm moved slightly 
 as she spoke, but her face lost nothing of its 
 pleasantness. 
 
 "Only for Miss Holbrook we should now be 
 immured in some Swiss dungeon, the subjects 
 of profound sorrow to our friends. Thanks to 
 Paul's splendid unfamiliarity with either the lan- 
 guage or the habits of that country, we were in 
 constant peril, from which she just as constantly 
 delivered us." 
 
 " Which means that she was " 
 
 " Guide, interpreter, mediator, paymaster ; in 
 short, without her our lives would have gone out 
 in hopeless misery." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum spoke lightly, but Judith de- 
 tected a note of seriousness. 
 
 " Paul is going South next week," she said. 
 " Can you not manage to give us an evening 
 before he goes? Suppose we say Monday. 
 Wouldn't that suit you, Paul? " 
 
 All this time she kept her hand on Paul's arm, 
 glancing into his face now and then with a smile 
 for which some men would have faced a score 
 of drawn swords. One of her sweetest smiles 
 was given when the gossipy matrons, who had 
 so enlightened her, were attentively regarding 
 the little group. Judith saw them and smiled
 
 MRS. BEDFORD'S RECEPTION 383 
 
 again, and so winningly that Paul smiled in re- 
 turn. 
 
 " So you were with the Milltrum party," she 
 said to Miss Holbrook, a few minutes later, who 
 was about to rejoin her mother in the music- 
 room. 
 
 " Not exactly with them, but we met in Paris, 
 then again in Switzerland, and returned to New 
 York on the same steamer." 
 
 " Miss Milltrum mentioned your name in some 
 of her letters, and Maud, I think, spoke of a trip 
 you all made over the Gemmi. You must have 
 enjoyed it immensely. Mr. Bedford often refers 
 to it." 
 
 As a historian Judith was more picturesque 
 than accurate, for Paul had not even alluded to 
 the Gemmi episode. 
 
 " He hopes to take another holiday next year," 
 Judith continued, noting carefully the look on 
 Miss Holbrook's face, " but he insists on my 
 going with him. He says that moonrise on the 
 Gemmi is the sight of a lifetime." 
 
 Judith's eyes, though apparently glancing 
 around the room, were closely observing Miss 
 Holbrook, who could not forbear a slight start 
 at this allusion to the Gemmi moonrise. Instantly 
 there flashed upon her the memory of that night 
 when Paul Bedford told her his story, and she 
 marvelled that he could so easily contemplate 
 another visit to a place fraught with such sig-
 
 384 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 nificance. She did not dream that Judith was 
 merely sending out her arrows at a venture. That, 
 however, was a habit with Judith, and often the 
 arrows struck the target with as much precision 
 as though they had been carefully aimed. 
 
 The appearance of Bert Vernon at that moment 
 enabled Judith to leave Miss Holbrook without 
 waiting for her reply, so smiling most graciously 
 she went back to the reception-room, where she 
 remained until after the Holbrooks had gone 
 home. 
 
 As virtue is- its own reward, Judith slept 
 soundly that night, her head hardly touching the 
 pillow before she was in the land of dreams. 
 Miriam was not so fortunate, for she gave up 
 more than half the night to a series of questions, 
 each one more bewildering and perplexing than 
 the other. 
 
 But while Judith slept Yoba was hiding in the 
 shadows on the other side of the street, watching 
 the house as a sentinel the prison where a traitor 
 lies condemned.
 
 VIII. 
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE OF ST. JOHN'S 
 
 W 
 
 HEN in New Orleans Paul was reminded 
 of his promise to Professor Schuman, which un- 
 der the pressure of urgent business had been 
 forgotten. Indeed, the matter had so completely 
 escaped his mind that he had never even men- 
 tioned it to Judith. This he now regretted, for, 
 having failed to get all the particulars from 
 the professor, he might be compelled to spend 
 more time on the matter than he could well 
 afford. 
 
 Still, he was tolerably certain that the village 
 spoken of by Professor Schuman contained at 
 most three or four churches, and that to search 
 through their registers need not involve more 
 than one afternoon. 
 
 The train ride of fully two hours was by no 
 means tedious, for, under the law of association, 
 connecting the errand on which he was bent with 
 the persons to whom it was related, he was led 
 back to that day on the Gemmi Pass when he met 
 Professor Schuman and his much frightened wife. 
 385
 
 386 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 He could not forbear a smile as the picture came 
 afresh to his mind, the professor mopping, his 
 wife protesting, the horse kicking, and the guide 
 silent as a graven image. Other pictures followed 
 in rapid succession, and before the brakeman 
 called out the station where a stage was waiting 
 for the train, Paul had gone over most of his 
 Swiss experiences. 
 
 Naturally Miss Holbrook had a prominent place 
 in this review, indeed, to tell the simple truth, he 
 chiefly recalled the scenes in which she had a 
 leading part. 
 
 Climbing up beside the stage-driver, with whom 
 he was soon on easy speaking terms, his cigar-case 
 effecting the introduction, Paul at once began his 
 inquiries. 
 
 '' You see that little church," said the driver, 
 pointing with his whip to a spire just visible in 
 the distance, " that is St. John's. Father Au- 
 vergne has been priest of this parish for more than 
 twenty years. He knows every family in the 
 county. You will find him at home, for he came 
 in from New Orleans yesterday." 
 
 In due time Paul was at the parsonage, where 
 Father Auvergne gave him a most courteous 
 greeting. 
 
 " Certainly," he said in reply to Paul's request. 
 ' The register is in the sacristy. We try to be 
 careful in these matters, and I think you will have 
 no trouble. Permit me to accompany you."
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE 387 
 
 It was a simple little church to which Father 
 Auvergne led the way, very different surely 
 from that of the Madeleine in Paris, or St. Pat- 
 rick's in New York, yet Paul was strangely im- 
 pressed as he went quietly down the aisle to the 
 sacristy. His keen, well-trained eyes saw how 
 plain most of the appointments were, yet every- 
 thing was invested with a sacredness which 
 touched him deeply. Paul Bedford was not in 
 any sense a religious man. He had well-defined 
 notions of business honor. The man who would 
 cheat or steal, or evade an obligation he held 
 in contempt. His games were never played with 
 marked cards. He was alert, eager, daring, but 
 he was not treacherous or dishonest. His simple 
 word had the strength of a bond, and even his 
 enemies had implicit faith in his integrity. At 
 heart, however, he was something of a pagan, 
 Sunday having for him only the significance of 
 a holiday, while churches had really less value 
 in his eyes than picture-galleries or places of 
 amusements. He was not irreverent or frivolous, 
 simply indifferent. Under ordinary circumstances 
 he could have gone to the sacristy as to the office 
 of a town hall where the " records " are kept, 
 but he now felt strangely affected. The church 
 seemed to have an atmosphere of prayer, of 
 penitence, of spiritual desire, and had he been 
 alone and given way to the emotions of that 
 moment, he would probably have knelt on the
 
 388 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 bare floor, and reverently bowed his head toward 
 the altar where the holy candles were burning. 
 
 On entering the sacristy Father Auvergne went 
 to a little safe in which the church register 
 was kept, and at once turned back to the date 
 Paul had mentioned. 
 
 " I remember Mr. Carreau very well," the 
 clergyman said ; " he was a brilliant man in his 
 way, and under other conditions might have been 
 successful, but he lacked ballast, and he was 
 easily duped. I tried to reason with him at times, 
 but visionary men are usually very obstinate. 
 ' De mortuis nil nisi bonum. ' 
 
 Paul made a copy of the entries in the register, 
 having first asked permission to do so, referring 
 also to his meeting Professor Schuman in Swit- 
 zerland. 
 
 " I wonder what became of Victor Carreau's 
 daughter. I disapproved strongly of her mar- 
 riage, being positive she was making a sad mis- 
 take, but of course I had no authority to 
 interfere." 
 
 " What marriage? " Paul asked, so thoroughly 
 mystified and with such a look of amazement 
 that Father Auvergne could hardly suppress a 
 smile. 
 
 " Judith's marriage, of course she " 
 
 "What do you know of Judith's marriage?" 
 Paul questioned, more mystified than ever. 
 
 " Not very much, except that I married her in
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE 389 
 
 this room about three months before her father 
 died." 
 
 " Father Auvergne, there must surely be some 
 mistake ! Judith Carreau is my wife. We were 
 married in New York three years ago." 
 
 ' Then you either married a widow, or she " 
 
 Instead of completing the sentence Father 
 Auvergne went to the little desk on which the 
 church register was lying, and turning to the 
 marriage record, found an entry on which he 
 placed his finger, and then looked at Paul. 
 
 " My God ! can this be true? " 
 
 Paul's face even more than his words betrayed 
 the agitation under which he was laboring. 
 
 " That entry is in my own hand," the priest 
 said with marked solemnity. 
 
 There are times when the strongest men are 
 so taken by surprise that not even a will of iron 
 can resist the shock without giving some sign. 
 The great ship, though plunging on after a huge 
 billow has flung itself against her massive hull, 
 quivers from stem to stern, and sometimes so 
 careens that for the moment disaster seems in- 
 evitable. Thus it was with Paul Bedford. 
 Though hardened by conflicts in which fortunes 
 were involved; accustomed through years of 
 business life to hold himself in perfect control, 
 rarely allowing an expression on his face or a 
 word from his lips save such as accorded with 
 will ; and in times of the wildest excitement con-
 
 390 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 trolling his feelings by an exercise of power 
 almost superhuman, here he looked as one 
 bereft of reason, and there was a dangerous glare 
 in his eyes as he stood facing Father Auvergne. 
 
 "And you married Judith to Both well?" he 
 asked, when he was so far recovered as to be able 
 to control his voice. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "In this room?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Three months before her father's death ? " 
 
 " The date is in the register, Mr. Bedford." 
 
 " But, Father Auvergne, I married Judith Car- 
 reau. I rilled out the certificate required by the 
 marriage laws of New York. In that certificate 
 her name was given as Judith Carreau, and as 
 such she signed it in the presence of Mr. Milltrum 
 and one of his nieces." 
 
 " And did the certificate have no mention of 
 any previous marriage? " 
 
 " None whatever. On the contrary, it stated 
 that she was single." 
 
 " I am very sorry for you, Mr. Bedford, sin- 
 cerely sorry. What motive Judith had for so 
 deceiving you I cannot imagine. Justice to you, 
 and indeed justice to herself, required a plain 
 statement of the facts in the case. Of course 
 Bothwell was dead at the time of your marriage. 
 That we must take for granted. Judith would 
 not have dared to marry you had he been living.
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE 391 
 
 Possibly there were some things connected with 
 Bothwell that caused her to avoid any associa- 
 tion with his name. Nevertheless, Mr. Bedford, 
 she should have been frank with you. My sym- 
 pathy may not have any value, indeed you would 
 be justified in resenting it, still I must express 
 my extreme sorrow at this most unhappy and 
 mysterious circumstance." 
 
 There was a tender chord in Father Auvergne's 
 voice, and so much genuine kindness in the clasp 
 of his hand, that Paul, though he made no reply, 
 could but feel the sympathy of the aged priest. 
 
 After a long pause, during which Paul stood 
 at the little desk with his eyes fixed on the entry 
 in the church register, going over each item in 
 the record, every moment becoming more per- 
 plexed, Father Auvergne said: 
 
 " The stage connecting with the evening train 
 leaves here at seven o'clock. May I ask you to 
 accept the hospitality of the parsonage till then, 
 or longer if you can remain. Kindly permit 
 me to have this pleasure." 
 
 Hardly aware of what he was doing, Paul 
 accompanied the priest to the little parsonage. 
 Excusing himself, Father Auvergne went back 
 to the church ostensibly to replace the register 
 in the safe; his real purpose, however, was to 
 leave Paul alone for a little while. The kindly 
 priest had not lived in vain. Many years before 
 he had learned the value of solitude. When a man
 
 392 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 is fiercely battling with himself, engaged in a 
 conflict that calls for all he has of strength, and 
 on the issue of which much of life depends, 
 the clack of tongues, however well intended, only 
 irritates him to the point of madness. So the 
 priest withdrew, nor did he return for nearly an 
 hour. What an hour that was to Paul Bedford ! 
 What questions crossed and recrossed his mind! 
 Why had Judith, when married to Bothwell, kept 
 her marriage such a secret, shamefully deceiving 
 her mother, who otherwise would not have 
 written from her death-bed to Mr. Milltrum? 
 Why had she allowed Mr. Milltrum to virtually 
 adopt her, when she had a husband abundantly 
 able to provide for her necessities? More stag- 
 gering still, why had she married again under her 
 maiden name, never once hinting at the ceremony 
 performed by Father Auvergne? Because she 
 was an orphan and a stranger, without a legal 
 protector, he had yielded to Mr. Milltrum's de- 
 sire. It was not her beauty, but her friendlessness 
 that appealed to him. He had no love to offer 
 her; that she knew, but he could at least give 
 her the protection of his name, and install her as 
 the mistress of his home. These were the condi- 
 tions of their marriage, and while not expressed 
 in legal or definite form, they were perfectly un- 
 derstood by Judith as well as himself. Then, as 
 though nothing might be lacking to make the 
 condition still more mjaddening, he remembered
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE 393 
 
 Bothwell's murderous attack on Mr. Saxby, his 
 flight to Boston, the report of the detectives 
 who were sent in pursuit. And to think that 
 Judith was actually the wife of such a man! 
 But the question that thrust itself upon him and 
 demanded an immediate answer was one for 
 which he had no reply. He could not trust him- 
 self. He was too angry to be just. Others must 
 decide a matter so serious as this. That he had 
 been deceived, grossly, terribly, was very evident 
 to him, yet what could he say, or what should be 
 done under circumstances in every way so pecu- 
 liar? 
 
 When Father Auvergne returned he found 
 Paul Bedford standing at the window of the 
 little parsonage, his face set like iron, and an 
 angry light in his eyes. 
 
 " I have been praying for you," he said, quietly. 
 " Yours is a heavy cross, my son ; one from which 
 the strongest man would shrink, and one which 
 not even the strongest man could bear alone. So 
 I have tried to ask God to help you." 
 
 " You mean that I must go on to the end, giv- 
 ing my name to a woman who tricked me into 
 a marriage, and who for aught I know had a 
 husband living at the time ? " 
 
 Though Paul spoke indignantly, Father Au- 
 vergne was in no wise grieved. He had pre- 
 pared himself to meet both anger and opposition. 
 
 " I am not surprised at your sense of outrage,
 
 394 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mr. Bedford," he said as quietly as before. " In 
 that feeling I sympathize, but there are times 
 when for the sake of others great surrenders must 
 be made. The idea of the cross is fundamental, 
 not only to religion but to life itself." 
 
 " But, Father Auvergne, how can I allow a 
 woman to retain my name who came to me with 
 a lie upon her lips ; actually perjuring herself at 
 the time of her marriage ; whose life prior to that 
 marriage was a mockery ; and whose course since 
 then has been one continual deception? Surely 
 the cross does' not mean a seal of approval on 
 treachery." 
 
 " Far from it. And you may be sure that 
 Judith has carried a cross infinitely heavier than 
 any have imagined. I cannot believe that know- 
 ingly she would have committed the crime you 
 suggest. Perhaps, as I said in the sacristy, there 
 were reasons why she was unwilling to have her 
 name associated with that of Mr. Bothwell. We 
 have time, and I have left word that we are not 
 to be disturbed. Tell me the story from begin- 
 ning to end." 
 
 It was a strange scene, the aged priest sitting 
 in his chair listening intently; Paul Bedford one 
 time standing beside the priest's chair, the next 
 moment walking up and down the little room, 
 his hands behind his back, his head bent forward, 
 his face pale with anger or flushed with excite- 
 ment. But he told the story, nor was he inter-
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE 395 
 
 rupted or questioned, Father Auvergne eagerly 
 attentive to every word. 
 
 " And nothing was ever heard of Bothwell ? " 
 the priest asked, when Paul had concluded, and 
 was once more at the window moodily looking 
 out. 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Nor of the steamer on which he was a pas- 
 senger? " 
 
 " Not a sign." 
 
 " The detectives traced him to the ship ? " 
 
 " Positively." 
 
 " Now, under the circumstances, what could 
 Judith do? Bothwell evidently had some motive 
 for keeping the marriage a secret. How he in- 
 fluenced Judith in the first instance I cannot say, 
 probably through some hold he had on her 
 father. Mr. Carreau was mixed up in some queer 
 matters at one time. That I know, but the secrets 
 of the confessional are sacred. Bothwell, as I 
 remember him, was rather a handsome man, and 
 Judith seeing in marriage an escape from poverty 
 and also a way to help her father, consented to 
 the arrangement. All this is mere surmise, yet 
 I have reason to think it is not far from the truth. 
 Coming back now to you, can you not see that 
 when Bothwell was drowned, and no one knew 
 anything of her marriage, how it would at once 
 occur to Judith that the very best thing was to 
 make no reference to it whatever? How could
 
 396 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 she openly acknowledge her marriage to Bothwell 
 after having lived so long with the Misses Mill- 
 trum, and being everywhere introduced by them 
 as Miss Carreau ? As time went on the difficulty 
 of making such an acknowledgment greatly in- 
 creased. When you appeared as a suitor, what 
 could she do but let matters take their course, 
 trusting that the secret would remain undis- 
 covered ? " 
 
 " And it might have so remained but for the 
 purest accident. A chance question of yours, 
 Father Auvergne " 
 
 " No, Mr. Bedford, it was not accident. Nor 
 was it chance. We use these terms because they 
 are convenient, but in a world so small as this, 
 and in which God's laws are supreme, there is 
 neither chance nor accident. You met Professor 
 Schuman in the Alps; his wife was related to 
 Victor Carreau. An entry from a church regis- 
 ter is essential. That you promise to procure; 
 in rendering that service you come here. And 
 here you discover the secret Judith has kept 
 hidden in her own breast. All links in the chain 
 of God's mysterious providence, a providence 
 which invariably works out His divine will." 
 
 " But what ami I to do ?" 
 
 " Keep the secret which you have providentially 
 discovered." 
 
 "How can I?" 
 
 " By refusing to share it even with Judith."
 
 FATHER AUVERGNE 397 
 
 " Father Auvergne ! " 
 
 " That is exactly what I mean. You have 
 given me your confidence which I shall hold 
 sacred. Why should you dismantle your home, 
 publish your dishonor to the world, brand a 
 woman with infamy, when by bearing your cross 
 with the strength and dignity of a man you can 
 not only save yourself but others as well? The 
 secret is safe with me. So also is the record of 
 the marriage. No one has access to the register 
 except by my permission. Let everything stand 
 and make the bravest, manliest fight of which 
 you are capable. And may God bless and heal 
 you, Mr. Bedford ! " 
 
 Soon the stage pulled up at the parsonage gate, 
 to which the kindly priest accompanied Paul, and 
 with a cordial hand-clasp and a final benediction 
 they parted, the one returning to his little church 
 to prepare for vespers, the other going back to 
 New Orleans with a secret that crushed him to 
 the earth.
 
 IX. 
 
 AN ATTACK ON MILLTRUM BROTHERS 
 
 O 
 
 N returning to his hotel Paul was given a 
 special delivery letter, and also several telegrams 
 which had been received during the day. The 
 telegrams he opened at once, as some matters of 
 importance were pending ; the letter he put in his 
 pocket, reserving its reading for the quiet of his 
 own room. When he had disposed of the busi- 
 ness the telegrams involved and had retired to 
 his apartment, he was not in the mood for reading 
 letters special or otherwise. Though a man of 
 immense resources, and capable of enduring the 
 most severe strain, his interview with Father 
 Auvergne had so exhausted him that he flung 
 himself upon the lounge in sheer stress of weari- 
 ness. He was not really angry with Judith; 
 better for her if he had been. A man, no matter 
 how fierce his wrath, cools down in time, the cool- 
 ing process not infrequently resulting in generous 
 forgiveness. But Paul's feelings were more of 
 the nature of contempt. He felt that he had been 
 tricked, duped, his sympathies played upon, and
 
 AN ATTACK 399 
 
 all to gratify the desires of a foolish and unscru- 
 pulous woman. The more he thought over Father 
 Auvergne's advice the less became his wish to 
 follow it. He could not imagine himself living 
 again under the same roof with Judith. To meet 
 her daily, to see her preside at his table, to share in 
 her social successes, to be compelled to hear con- 
 gratulations on her receptions and gatherings, to 
 go out with her to dinners and assemblies, yet all 
 the while have the knowledge of her treachery 
 and untruthfulness, seemed to him an utter im- 
 possibility. The mere thought of it was intoler- 
 able. Turning restlessly on the couch, the letter 
 rustled in his pocket, and taking it out he glanced 
 carelessly at the envelope. The writing seemed 
 familiar, though for the moment he was uncer- 
 tain. Opening it, he read : 
 
 " MY DEAR PAUL : You so rarely are 
 troubled with letters from me, that I am certain 
 this one will be something of a surprise. And 
 you will be even more surprised when you learn 
 that I intend to be one of your most regular 
 correspondents! Let me frankly confess that I 
 have not treated you as I should have done. I 
 have been remiss in many ways. I am very sorry 
 that I went to Newport last summer instead of 
 going to Europe with you as I had promised. 
 And I am just as sorry for many other things. 
 Won't you please forgive me?
 
 400 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " There is no need to remind you of the singu- 
 lar conditions relating to our marriage. You 
 were very frank with me then, and I understood 
 perfectly the nature of our mutual obligations. 
 But, Paul, during the years of our married life 
 I have learned to love you, to love you with all 
 my soul, and while I do not ask that you abate 
 anything of your affection for the Miriam of your 
 early life, may I hope sometime to have a little 
 place of my own in your kindly, generous heart? 
 I will try to be worthy of it, Paul. I am really 
 hungry for your love. My life has never been 
 a happy one, far from it, though thanks to you 
 it has been happier for the past few years than 
 ever before. If you knew everything you would 
 pity me; but why refer to things so unpleas- 
 ant? 
 
 " This isn't leap year, Paul, but I am going to 
 make a proposal, nevertheless, which is that we 
 begin all over again, only this time, instead of 
 our marriage being an affair of business and settle- 
 ments, let us make it one of real affection. What 
 say you? 
 
 " Uncle Lewis says you are likely to be detained 
 from home at least two weeks longer. Send me 
 a telegram, Paul, and I will be on my way to 
 meet you within an hour after receiving it. 
 
 " You will be glad to know that Miss Holbrook 
 is likely to remain permanently in this city. There 
 was a possibility of her going to Boston, the
 
 AN ATTACK 401 
 
 Vernons having large interests there, but Bert 
 has decided to live in New York. The engage- 
 ment has not been formally announced, but it is 
 generally understood. 
 
 " I am not much of a gossip, but this little 
 item I know will interest you. 
 
 " I have made a sort of calculation as to the 
 time this letter will reach you, and from that 
 hour will look impatiently for a telegram. 
 
 " Send one, Paul, please do, for I am so eager 
 to see you. 
 
 " JUDITH." 
 
 With the exception of the paragraph concern- 
 ing Miss Holbrook, Judith wrote out of her heart. 
 She was thoroughly sincere in this expression 
 of her love for Paul. Ever since that night when 
 she overheard the conversation of the two 
 matrons, her one desire was that Paul might 
 love her as she was learning to love him. And 
 just as in the springtime, when the iron hand 
 of frost no longer grips the earth, the pent-up 
 forces held in such terrible restraint leap forth to 
 meet the waiting sun, so Judith's love for Paul 
 burst forth as a mighty, splendid flame. 
 Hers was no schoolgirl sentiment; no silly, lisp- 
 ing affectation ; no summer night romance, fleet- 
 ing as moonlight on the sea. It was a consuming 
 passion, a fire which on the altar of her heart 
 burned more intensely as the days went by.
 
 402 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 In this particular her letter was honest, and 
 Paul was constrained to admit the sincerity em- 
 bodied in every word. 
 
 But there was no foundation for the reference 
 to Miss Holbrook. That was a bit of imagina- 
 tion, and written for a purpose. 
 
 This Paul did not know; the paragraph there- 
 fore came upon him as a bolt from the blue. And 
 just as Miriam wondered that he could speak so 
 lightly to Judith of moonrise on the Gemmi, and 
 insist that she go with him on his next year's 
 trip, so he woridered that Miriam could become 
 engaged to Bert Vernon, and with such com- 
 placency accept him as her future husband. 
 
 That was surely a bitter night for Paul Bed- 
 ford, the heaviest, the strangest he had ever 
 known. He never once thought of sleep. He 
 sat by the window and looked out, one time at 
 the sky where the moon was struggling with 
 heavy, threatening clouds, and another time on 
 the streets, now so still after the strife and tumult 
 of the day. More than once the words of Father 
 Auvergne came back to him : 
 
 " Yours is a heavy cross ; one from which the 
 strongest man would shrink; and one which not 
 even the strongest man could bear alone." 
 
 The morning found him in the same conflict of 
 emotions. To openly repudiate Judith involved 
 an explanation to Mr. Milltrum, which would 
 distress and humiliate him beyond measure. Yet
 
 AN ATTACK 403 
 
 when he thought of so far accepting the counsel 
 of Father Auvergne as to guard Judith's secret, 
 he remembered that her letter demanded far more 
 than that from him. She was pleading for love, 
 while he was struggling against hate! She was 
 thinking of a honeymoon, and he was planning 
 for a separation! Poor Judith! She wanted to 
 begin life, real life, with Paul, while Paul, per- 
 haps poorer and more to be pitied, would rather 
 have died than enter upon such a relation. 
 
 At breakfast, when looking over his mail, a 
 cipher telegram was brought in. After reading 
 it Paul immediately sent for a time-table, and, 
 finding that a train would soon leave for the 
 North, at once decided to take it. Before starting 
 he sent a telegram to Judith : 
 
 " Thanks for letter. Am on my way home. 
 Will see you in a few days. 
 
 " PAUL." 
 
 He also sent a long cipher despatch in reply 
 to the one received, and addressed it to Mr. 
 Crewe. Though pressed for time, he did not fail 
 to write a brief note of thanks to Father Au- 
 vergne, enclosing with it a bank draft, which 
 he asked the priest to distribute among the poor 
 of his parish. At noon he was a hundred miles 
 distant from New Orleans, on his way to fight 
 the battle of his life.
 
 404 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 As Mr. Neumarck sits in his chair in the 
 Sembrada, he looks exactly as on the day Judith 
 called for the jewel-casket. His face is as sharp, 
 his lips are as thin, his eyes are as bright, and 
 his expression as cruel as when he pierced her 
 with a look, or smiled after her with significance. 
 In an easy chair sits another man, younger, of 
 heavier build, with large, baleful eyes, his face 
 almost hidden under thick black whiskers. It is 
 long after midnight, yet both men are full of 
 eagerness, and seem ready for a protracted ses- 
 sion. 
 
 " So your name is Simlick. Henry Simlick ? " 
 Mr. Neumarck asked, suggestively. 
 
 Simlick smiled. 
 
 " A mine owner in Nevada who has come 
 to make some investments in New York ? " 
 
 " That covers the case." 
 
 " And also to pay off some obligations of a 
 strictly personal nature ? " 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " Which obligations include some others not 
 quite so personal ? " 
 
 Simlick's white teeth gleamed under his thick 
 mustache by way of reply. 
 
 " And as an instalment on these obligations 
 you have been paying some attention to certain 
 interests once owned by a Mr. Saxby, but now 
 controlled by a firm known as Milltrum Broth- 
 ers?"
 
 AN ATTACK 405 
 
 '* Yes, I have made a beginning." 
 " And your plan is to lead the parties named 
 to the edge of one of your silver mines, and at 
 the proper time allow them to fall in, while you 
 stand at the pit m|outh and watch them reach the 
 bottom ? " 
 
 " You evidently understand my purpose." 
 " The process is likely to be expensive." 
 " I am prepared for that." 
 " And it may take some time." 
 " I have been planning it for years." 
 " Milltrum Brothers will make a hard fight." 
 " The harder the better." 
 " Other men have tried and failed." 
 " I won't fail." 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Other men fought simply for money, and in 
 time money buys money, so they compromise and 
 one gives way to the other. With me it is a 
 fight to the death. For Saxby I care nothing, 
 though it was through his infernal trickery I 
 was driven from New York." 
 
 " A good thing for you, nevertheless." 
 " Yes, but I owe him no thanks. He set the 
 police on me, and, if it hadn't been for that steam- 
 boat business, I would have been taken in Port- 
 land. Still, Saxby doesn't trouble me. I am 
 after higher game. Saxby acted like a fool last 
 year, and got himself all tangled up. Paul Bed- 
 ford in some way so influenced old Milltrum
 
 406 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 that he consented to wipe out an ugly score he 
 had with Saxby, and allowed the concern to be 
 absorbed with Milltrum Brothers. To save Sax- 
 by's credit, Bedford has had to take on as heavy 
 a load as the horse will draw. That I know. I 
 intend to add to that load, and make the horse 
 drop in his tracks." 
 
 " You are warmly attached to Mr. Bedford." 
 
 " Very. I have reason to be. When I learned 
 that he was coming to Nevada, I arranged a 
 little trip for him among the hills with the 
 idea " 
 
 " Of his remaining permanently in Nevada ? " 
 
 " Possibly." 
 
 " And of his bride returning home a sorrowing 
 widow ? " 
 
 " If I had once suspected that Judith was the 
 bride over whose beauty the people out there 
 went raving mad, let me tell you Paul Bedford 
 would have had a very different reception. But 
 I never imagined such a thing. My revenge, how- 
 ever, will lose nothing by delay. There will be 
 just that much more." 
 
 " Have you thought how all this will affect 
 Judith?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Judith hasn't been left out of the 
 calculation. I intend to pay her handsomely. 
 The fishes hadn't well started on their nibbling 
 at my supposed body before she was over here 
 for the jewel-casket. She wanted the jewels fast
 
 AN ATTACK 407 
 
 enough, but she was more anxious about the 
 marriage certificate, which, I am sure, went into 
 flames as soon as she got to her room. Then 
 within a few months of my supposed death she 
 married Paul Bedford, actually using her maiden 
 name." 
 
 " Rather a dangerous thing to do." 
 
 " Particularly when it is found out," and once 
 more the white teeth gleamed and the eyes shot 
 fire. 
 
 " You have arranged an attractive pro- 
 gramme." 
 
 " And every number on it will be given." 
 
 " I would like to share in this entertainment 
 of yours. You are not the only one who feels 
 the burden of certain obligations. Bedford found 
 out somehow that Cranburg was only a dummy, 
 and that the concern was mine. Old Milltrum 
 put in his oar, and fully a score of notes came 
 back on my hands, young Vernon's, you re- 
 member him, of course, and Tom Shirland's, 
 and others as well. I just managed to squeak out. 
 But the whole thing had to go." 
 
 " Cranburg's was a paying concern in my 
 time." 
 
 " And then what did that meddling, platter- 
 faced fool, Clarence Fillmore, who is everlastingly 
 poking about in his yacht, do, but run across the 
 Vampire once or twice, and because he didn't 
 like the looks of things he reported to the Inland
 
 408 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Revenue, and since then we haven't dared to 
 move her from the dock." 
 
 " What about my old place on Burling Slip ? " 
 
 " Nothing but a junk-shop. I have to keep it 
 open and make a pretence of doing something, 
 but the real business is gone." 
 
 " So you have a few little accounts to settle? " 
 
 " Just a few, and I thought we might go in 
 together. Between us, I think we could manage 
 to put up something of a fight. I have a trifle 
 in the savings-bank," here Mr. Neumarck smiled 
 sardonically, ""which I am willing to invest in 
 this business." 
 
 The agreement was made there and then, and 
 from that hour each man gave himself unreserv- 
 edly to the task of bankrupting the firm of Mill- 
 trum Bros. 
 
 This was the mysterious combination whose 
 movements during the summer had given Mr. 
 Crewe much trouble, and whose attacks of late 
 had become so serious that he was forced to tele- 
 graph for Paul Bedford. 
 
 Paul's journey home was anything but pleas- 
 ant. He understood thoroughly all that Mr. 
 Crewe's telegrams implied. For months he had 
 known that Mr. Saxby's interests would be a 
 heavy burden, but that knowledge he had kept 
 to himself, quietly meeting such obligations as 
 matured, and preparing for others that were cer- 
 tain to come. In what way the secrets of his
 
 AN ATTACK 409 
 
 private office had been revealed baffled him com- 
 pletely. And the results were serious. Claims 
 poured in upon him. Almost every day large 
 demands were made. Sometimes he was positive 
 that Mr. Saxby's name had been used without 
 warrant, but, as he was still in Europe, and prac- 
 tically unfit for business, it seemed impossible to 
 secure any definite statement. Neither could he 
 speak of these matters to Mr. Milltrum, for many 
 years before, when Mr. Saxby was in the pleni- 
 tude of his strength, and Mr. Milltrum sadly in 
 need of help, his application was not only denied, 
 but spurned so contemptuously that a bitter feud 
 was the result. Paul therefore had great difficulty 
 in persuading Mr. Milltrum to have anything to 
 do with the affairs of Saxby & Co. 
 
 " Unless I am very much mistaken," he said, 
 " you will find a nice mess. He has been playing 
 ducks and drakes for over a year. I can't imagine 
 what possessed him. He is in a score of things, 
 any one of them enough to send him to the dis- 
 count mill. Better let him go under, Paul." 
 
 " But he is Miriam's father. For her sake I 
 must help him." 
 
 " True, and I don't blame you, but remember 
 this is your affair, not mine." 
 
 And Paul did remember, so the whole burden 
 came on him. 
 
 But far more than any business complication 
 was he troubled concerning Judith. As the ex-
 
 410 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 press rolled along, every hour bringing him that 
 much nearer to New York, the question came up 
 again and again. A public disavowal he dismissed 
 instantly. He had not forgotten that Judith was 
 his kinswoman, and that she was the daughter of 
 Kate Dumont, once the promised wife of Mr. 
 Milltrumi. In fact, he had forgotten nothing that 
 would inure to her advantage, for Paul was in- 
 herently just. But there was that entry in the 
 church register. He could see the deep, black 
 writing, every item given with a distinctness that 
 haunted him. 
 
 He tried to read, but neither book nor paper 
 had any interest for him. He went to the smok- 
 ing-compartment, only to find himself out of gear 
 with the genial, story-telling company assembled 
 there. Usually temperate, when in the dining-car 
 he drank heavily with his dinner, hoping the wine 
 would dull and deaden him after a time, but it was 
 of no avail. Finally he tormented himself with 
 questionings as to Bothwell's death, wondering 
 if he had been a passenger on the Portland boat. 
 Every possible element of disturbance came to 
 his mind on that ride from New Orleans, and he 
 gave a sigh of relief as the train slowed up at 
 the depot in Jersey City. 
 
 Going to the office, he spent some hours in 
 consultation with Mr. Crewe, an interview in 
 which Mr. Walters, the former secretary of Mr. 
 Saxby, had no part, much to his surprise and
 
 AN ATTACK 411 
 
 annoyance. That was not a pleasant day for Mr. 
 Walters, for when Mr. Crewe went out from 
 Paul's private office, it was with instructions to 
 dismiss him instantly. Some papers found on 
 his desk were so plainly intended for the mys- 
 terious combination that the question of leakage 
 was immediately solved. 
 
 Then Paul went home. Of course the clerks 
 envied him as he stepped into the carriage which 
 was waiting at the office door. And other men, 
 not clerks, looked after him admiringly as the 
 carriage turned the corner at the Sub-Treasury. 
 Why not ? Had he not everything to excite both 
 envy and admiration ? Wealth unlimited, a rarely 
 beautiful woman for a wife, a home in the most 
 exclusive section of the city, these were all his; 
 and yet he envied the light-hearted newsboys who 
 jostled each other on the streets through which 
 he passed!
 
 N: 
 
 X. 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 EVER did a woman look more alluring or 
 attractive than Judith the evening Paul was ex- 
 pected home from the South. To do him honor, 
 and as a proof of her devotion, she had sent an 
 excuse to Mrs. Helmsley, who was giving a din- 
 ner-party that evening to which Lord Padding- 
 ton, Count Novello, and sundry other notables 
 had been invited. It must be confessed that Mrs. 
 Helmsley did not accept Judith's regrets with 
 very good grace, for she had counted on her 
 assistance in making the evening one of unusual 
 brilliance. She even went so far as to write an 
 urgent note to Judith, begging of her to come, 
 if for only an hour, as otherwise a number of her 
 guests would be quite disappointed. But Judith 
 was not seriously concerned for either Mrs. 
 Helmsley or the guests who were bidden to her 
 dinner. A much larger matter occupied her mind. 
 Her thought was Paul; how to win him to her- 
 self, to make him her own, to be his wife, not in 
 name only, but in the deep, splendid significance 
 412
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 418 
 
 of that word, and, having once gained his love, 
 hold it with a fervor which nothing could abate. 
 She selected one of her most becoming gowns, of 
 a color of which she had heard Paul speak approv- 
 ingly, and so arrayed herself that her beauty was 
 well-nigh overwhelming. Usually she came down- 
 stairs just before the formal dinner announce- 
 ment, but this evening, instead of going to the 
 parlor, she went to the reception-room, with 
 the hope of seeing Paul the moment he came 
 in. 
 
 Paul had tried to prepare himself for this meet- 
 ing. He knew it would be a severe ordeal, for, 
 naturally, Judith would expect some response to 
 the letter his telegram had acknowledged. Dur- 
 ing the day, one of the busiest and most exciting 
 he had ever known, he had been troubled exceed- 
 ingly with questions concerning Judith, and how 
 best to meet the new condition of things. But 
 just as he was leaving the office Mr. Milltrum 
 came in, hearty and cheery as ever, though he 
 knew that Milltrum Bros, was in the thick of a 
 tremendous battle. 
 
 " I am going up with you," he said, addressing 
 Paul. " Judith has arranged a fatted calf festi- 
 val, in which I am to have a share. Peggy and 
 Maud are there now. Meantime, we have a few 
 minutes to spare, so we can compare notes by 
 the way. Have you found out anything about 
 our friends the enemy ? "
 
 414 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Not much ; practically nothing, except that 
 they have, apparently, plenty of money." 
 
 " And they are touching us on the raw ? " 
 
 " Slightly." 
 
 " So far nothing very serious? " 
 
 " No; but they bribed Walters, and what that 
 may lead to I can't tell." 
 
 " Well, they may go to Bagdad, or Jericho, 
 or any other place they fancy. I like sport, good, 
 honest sport, whether one is going for game or 
 fish or anything else, but when it comes to low- 
 down trickery, such as sneaking in on a cad like 
 Walters, then, Paul, my boy, people of that stripe 
 may go to the devil." 
 
 " Such a proceeding would have my approval," 
 Paul said, with a smile. 
 
 " You haven't heard any time to-day that Mill- 
 trum Brothers is on Queer Street ? " Mr. Mill- 
 trum asked, meaningly. 
 
 " No," and Paul laughed as he spoke. 
 
 " What, then, do you think of this ? " and while 
 speaking Mr. Milltrum gave Paul a letter. 
 
 " MY DEAR MR. MILLTRUM : I overheard a 
 conversation last evening which has troubled me 
 exceedingly. By the purest accident I happened 
 to be present where some gentlemen were discuss- 
 ing business matters, and one of the speakers said 
 that the firm of Milltrum Bros, had recently lost a 
 great deal of money, and unless helped in some
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 415 
 
 way would have to fail. You won't feel hurt, 
 I am sure, at my suggesting that every penny I 
 possess is at your disposal. I am not very familiar 
 with business matters, but if you will kindly let 
 me know where I can see you, I will arrange so 
 that everything can be transferred to you imme- 
 diately. Please, Mr. Milltrum, let me help you 
 at this time. I really don't need so much money. 
 Mamma, I know, will give me what I want. So 
 just remember that I am waiting to hear from 
 you, and anxious to do everything that lies in my 
 power. Very sincerely yours, 
 
 " MIRIAM HOLBROOK." 
 
 Though so self-contained and impassive, Paul's 
 face betrayed something of the emotion aroused 
 by this letter. For it meant much more to him 
 than to Mr. Milltrum. He read in it an answer 
 to his story on the Gemmi Pass. He was con- 
 fident Miriam was not making this heroic offer 
 for the firm of Milltrum Bros., but from a 
 motive of far greater moment. That she was 
 willing to risk her entire fortune, leaving herself 
 practically penniless, was to him a splendid proof 
 of what a love such as hers really implied. It was 
 surely a daring thing to do. But love is always 
 daring. It disdains the tithing of mint and anise 
 and cumin. Nor does it ever stoop to measure re- 
 sults or weigh consequences. It is the one thing 
 in this world which knows nothing of calculation.
 
 416 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 The love that will not give itself with measure- 
 less bound is only a pinchbeck, a poor, tawdry 
 imitation, a mockery and a travesty, not even 
 worthy to be dignified by the name of sentiment. 
 
 Neither did Miriam consider what the world 
 would say if Milltrum Bros, should be beaten 
 in their fight, and her fortune swept away in 
 consequence. The eyes with which she regarded 
 the world were gloriously fearless, for the light 
 which shone in them came from a heart that had 
 no need of the sun, its courage and innocence 
 being divinely radiant. 
 
 " Miss Holbrook is a woman of a thousand," 
 Paul said, quietly, as he returned the letter to 
 Mr. Milltrum. 
 
 " A woman of a million, or ten millions, or as 
 many more millions as you care to add on. Most 
 of them can be bought with a trinket, a gewgaw, 
 some bauble, or childish thing." 
 
 There were times when Mr. Milltrum remem- 
 bered bitterly that Victor Carreau had bribed 
 Kate Dumont to an act of treachery. 
 
 " What reply shall you make to Miss Hol- 
 brook ? " Paul asked. 
 
 " I will write and accept her offer," Mr. Mill- 
 trum said, decidedly. 
 
 " You surely don't mean it," Paul replied, with 
 a look of surprise. 
 
 " I surely do," and the old gentleman's eyes 
 twinkled merrily.
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 417 
 
 Paul saw that Mr. Milltrum had some little 
 scheme of his own relating to Miss Holbrook, 
 one in which he seemingly was to have no share, 
 so nothing more was said. 
 
 Mr. Milltrum's arrival with Paul from the 
 office interfered with Judith's reception-room 
 programme, still she managed to give the " wan- 
 derer," as she smilingly called him, a wel- 
 come as earnest and cordial as any one could 
 desire. 
 
 " Now, Uncle Lewis," she said, when the din- 
 ner had reached a certain stage, " tell me some- 
 thing of your adventures in Switzerland. From 
 what you have said, your Gemmi Pass experience 
 must have been one of rare enjoyment." 
 
 " It was ; such things ought to be rare, and the 
 rarer they are the better for me. But, Peggy, 
 will you ever forget our coming in on that lunch- 
 party, when Paul was struggling with a sausage 
 sandwich, and Miss Holbrook was jabbering with 
 the professor ? " 
 
 "What professor?" Judith asked, though her 
 question had another intent. 
 
 " A podgy and rather profuse personage, who 
 perspired ponderously," Mr. Milltrum replied, 
 alliteratively, a weakness into which he lapsed 
 at times. " Really, though, Judith, I must beg 
 your pardon for speaking so lightly of the pro- 
 fessor. Kindly excuse me." 
 
 "Why this overwhelming courtesy? What
 
 418 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 have I to do with the podgy professor, that you 
 should be so careful of my feelings ? " 
 
 In vain Paul tried to catch Mr. Milltrum's 
 eye with a warning glance. Equally vain was 
 his attempt to throw in a diverting question. Mr. 
 Milltrum at times held himself down like a dog 
 following a scent, and would not be led away. So 
 he answered: 
 
 " The professor is a relative of yours, or, 
 rather, his wife is, which, I suppose, is the same 
 thing. Didn't Paul tell you ? " 
 
 " No," she answered, naturally interested to 
 hear of an adventure with which she was con- 
 nected. 
 
 Again Paul looked at Mr. Milltrum, and again 
 Mr. Milltrum refused to see the eyes that so 
 anxiously sought his. 
 
 " Paul has been so busy since he got home that 
 probably the matter slipped his mind. Let me 
 tell you all about it." 
 
 And he did, naming the place Professor Schu- 
 man had spoken of, and the entries that he wished 
 copied from the church register. At first Judith 
 listened with real amusement, for Mr. Milltrum's 
 description of Professor Schuman and his amiable 
 wife was more laughable than definite, but as he 
 gradually worked within the circle of what actu- 
 ally happened, and spoke of the request the pro- 
 fessor made to Paul, ending up with the name of 
 the village where the church register was sup-
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 419 
 
 posed to be, a frightened look came into her face, 
 her eyes filled with horror, the smile died on her 
 lips, and the soft laugh which but a moment be- 
 fore rippled so happily, choked into something 
 like a sob. 
 
 But Mr. Milltrum saw nothing of this. All he 
 could see was the professor, whose memory 
 stirred him so pleasantly. 
 
 Then he asked the question that Paul had 
 dreaded ever since the subject was mentioned : 
 
 " Did you remember those entries for Professor 
 Schuman when you were in New Orleans, Paul ? " 
 
 '' Yes," Paul answered, bravely. 
 
 " And you went to the church where they 
 were supposed to be ? " 
 
 ' Yes," Paul replied, as abruptly as before, 
 then, turning to Miss Milltrum, asked her a ques- 
 tion, one of no importance in itself, but with the 
 hope of changing the conversation. 
 
 But Mr. Milltrum was inexorable. Had he 
 been a lawyer, cross-examining a witness, he 
 could not have shown a keener interest in Paul's 
 movements when in New Orleans and the village 
 to which he had gone for the entries desired by 
 Professor Schuman. Little did he imagine that 
 by his pitiless inquiries he was visiting upon Kate 
 Dumont's daughter a punishment infinitely worse 
 than death. But Judith was brave. There was 
 good blood in her veins, despite its taints here and 
 there. Besides, she had a hope, a substantial
 
 420 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 hope, that, though Paul had seen the church regis- 
 ter, the marriage record might have been with- 
 held. She therefore listened eagerly to Mr. 
 Milltrum's questions, and Paul's courteous but 
 guarded replies, finally reaching the conclusion 
 that, though Paul had seen Father Auvergne, 
 nothing had been said regarding her marriage. 
 So she began to breathe more freely, her face 
 became less rigid, her eyes lost something of their 
 fear, and, when the conversation took another 
 turn, she entered into it almost as heartily as the 
 others. But all through the evening a vague 
 sense of danger haunted her. She felt as though 
 her feet were on slippery places, and any moment 
 were liable to give way. She smiled at some of 
 Mr. Milltrum's quaint descriptions, and his still 
 quainter comments on both places and persons, 
 but when she thought of Paul's meeting with 
 Father Auvergne her heart became strangely 
 heavy. At times she would glance stealthily at 
 Paul, but his face was impenetrable, nothing in 
 either his look or expression giving her the 
 slightest cue. It was a long, hard evening for 
 Judith, yet she dreaded the hour when the Mill- 
 trums would leave, lest their going might leave 
 her alone with Paul. 
 
 " You may look for me in the morning," Mr. 
 Milltrum said to Paul, when he was bidding him 
 good-by ; " it isn't every day that things are so
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 421 
 
 lively down your way. I want to see some of 
 the fun." 
 
 That was his way of regarding one of the most 
 exciting times Wall Street had ever known. 
 Already a score of fortunes had changed hands, 
 and many more had been wiped out as chalk 
 figures on a blackboard. Raid after raid had been 
 made on strongly placed stocks, compelling some 
 men to hurry in from their country homes, and 
 remain in their offices from morning till night, 
 not a few availing themselves of office chairs and 
 lounges for the brief rest which exhausted nature 
 demanded. It was indeed a battle of the giants. 
 Paul had good reason to say that the new West- 
 ern combination had apparently plenty of money, 
 and money on the stock-market can do nearly 
 as it pleases. Of course Milltrum Bros, had 
 rivals, keen, daring, and not overscrupulous, 
 who would willingly have seen its colors lowered. 
 On the other hand, the strong, conservative men, 
 who were the real pillars of business, and whose 
 interests in the country were too serious to be 
 lightly regarded, supported Milltrum Bros, with- 
 out stint. 
 
 Paul therefore had command of resources far 
 beyond those held by his immediate firm. Mr. 
 Milltrum's name alone was worth millions. The 
 shrewd, wide-awake Chicagoan had not lived in 
 vain. His integrity had a market value much 
 greater than that of mere securities. Paul also
 
 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 was held in high regard. He was known as a 
 safe, careful dealer, too wise to be inveigled into 
 foolish kite-flying schemes, and always able to 
 give immediate response to any demands made 
 upon him. 
 
 The new combination had therefore a larger 
 contract on its hands than it imagined, but Mill- 
 trum Bros, had not escaped scot-free. There was 
 nothing very seriously involved, and Mr. Mill- 
 trum's remark that he was coming down to share 
 in the fun indicated fairly his view of the case. 
 Paul, feeling responsible for the Saxby inter- 
 ests, and realizing that they needed special care, 
 after Mr. Milltrum had gone retired to his room, 
 where he worked until long after midnight. 
 
 A gentle tap on his door surprised him slightly, 
 and, on opening it, to his much greater surprise 
 he saw Judith. 
 
 " Excuse my disturbing you," she said, " but 
 I wanted to see you for a few minutes. May I 
 come in ? " 
 
 " Certainly," he answered, gathering up the 
 papers on which he had been at work, and wheel- 
 ing over an easy chair for her. 
 
 " I came to talk with you about my letter," she 
 said, with a pitiful little smile, for her lips quiv- 
 ered as she spoke, and she looked very much as 
 when Mr. Milltrum was speaking of Professor 
 Schuman. 
 
 " Might it not be better to wait a few days ? "
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 423 
 
 Paul asked, gently, touched by the evident anxiety 
 she manifested. " Some things, you know, have 
 a way of working out of themselves. Then there 
 are other things that require time." 
 
 Judith felt that Paul was merely fencing, but 
 his smile was so kindly that she took hope. 
 
 " I wrote out of my heart, Paul. That letter 
 was no mere composition. Of course I remember 
 the terms of our marriage. But I cannot hold 
 myself within those terms. I love you, Paul. 
 And I want to share, not merely your home, but 
 your life. I may have been thoughtless and per- 
 haps selfish, but that day has gone. Now I am 
 yours, body and soul, and if you can only give 
 me a hundredth part of the love that I give you, 
 I shall be the happiest woman in New York." 
 
 By this time she had risen from her chair, and 
 was facing Paul, who was standing with his hand 
 resting on the table. How he felt for her at that 
 moment! A great pity filled his heart. His first 
 anger had burned itself out, leaving only sorrow 
 in its stead. Father Auvergne's kindly counsels 
 had prevailed, and he had resolved, cost what it 
 would, to hide from Judith his knowledge of her 
 secret. But to meet her newly awakened love 
 with a love of his own was not possible. For love 
 cannot be compelled in the heart of either man 
 or woman. There may be gratitude, or sympathy, 
 or admiration, but these are not love. Love is not 
 a mental product, and cannot be reasoned out, no
 
 424 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 matter what advantages may accrue therefrom. 
 Paul understood all this. He was too honest to 
 simulate a passion, though by doing so he could 
 set Judith's heart at rest, and make her life 
 supremely happy. Perhaps she felt this, for she 
 was looking into his face with intense eagerness, 
 but to fail meant for her so much of bitterness 
 and shame that she flung her arms around his 
 neck, and drawing his face down to hers kissed 
 him again and again, nor would she let him go 
 until the perfume of her breath, the love-light 
 in her eyes, the passion of her lips had so over- 
 whelmed Paul that for the moment he forgot 
 everything save the mighty love which now pos- 
 sessed the beautiful woman who for years had 
 seemed so indifferent to his presence. 
 
 " Why can't you love me, Paul ? But you 
 must. I will not wait any longer. You are mine. 
 And I am going to claim you. O Paul ! Paul ! " 
 And again she lavished caresses upon him, her 
 arms clinging around his neck with a strength 
 which seemed exhaustless. 
 
 "Judith," he whispered, hoarsely, "please re- 
 strain yourself. It is very late. I have a trying 
 day to-morrow. We can talk about these things 
 at another time " 
 
 " No, Paul, now. You must love me. I will 
 not be denied. Surely I am not so dull and un- 
 attractive that you can see nothing in me worthy 
 of your love."
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 425 
 
 Then she drew back and faced him once more, 
 her splendid beauty so revealing itself that she 
 seemed like the goddess of a poet's dream. Never 
 was man more strongly tempted. Why not for- 
 get that fatal entry in the church register? 
 Why not forget that she had once been the wife 
 of Bothwell ? Why allow the memory of the dead 
 Miriam to throw its shadow upon his path? 
 Why should the image of a living Miriam haunt 
 him so constantly? Here was a woman who 
 loved him with a passion which had broken her 
 pride so utterly that not even a vestige remained. 
 And this woman was his wife, and was actually 
 suing for a love to which she had every right ! 
 
 Then all at once there rose before him the 
 scene in the sacristy, and he saw the finger of 
 Father Auvergne point to the record made by 
 his own hand. He drew back, his face hardened, 
 a stern expression gathered around his mouth, 
 and he moved to another part of the room, leaving 
 Judith standing near his vacant chair. Then she 
 understood in some mysterious way, though Paul 
 gave her no hint or sign that he had seen the 
 record of her marriage, and that in so deceiving 
 him she had sinned beyond all hope of forgiveness. 
 Perhaps if she had told him the nature of Both- 
 well's hold upon her father, and the price he de- 
 manded for her father's liberty, and if she had 
 frankly made a full confession of her own weak- 
 ness in yielding to Bothwell's desires, Paul might
 
 426 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 so far have condoned her folly as to let the secret 
 remain untold. But after imperiously demanding 
 all the love that a wife could claim, and enforcing 
 that demand with the full stress and passion of 
 which she was capable, to tell a story, such as hers 
 would have to be, was impossible. She stood for 
 a few moments in silence, then with the bearing 
 of an empress bade Paul good night and returned 
 to her own room.
 
 XL 
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 
 
 T 
 
 HE day following Judith's pathetic inter- 
 view with Paul, the hall servant in the Bedford 
 mansion experienced a serious mental disturbance, 
 for in his august presence, unabashed and im- 
 movable, stood a person whose like he had never 
 seen before. Yoba was his visitor who had come 
 with a letter for Mrs. Bedford. 
 
 Jeames offered to take this letter, to which 
 Yoba demurred, whereupon Jeames waxed wroth 
 and intimated that Yoba would do well to retire. 
 Yoba, not being of a retiring mind, smiled calmly 
 in the face of the great man under whose care 
 the Bedford mansion enjoyed such peace. This 
 was intolerable. It meant a defiance of authority, 
 an utter disregard of the supreme laws through 
 which hall servants exercise their sovereignty. 
 With the bearing of an Oriental monarch Jeames 
 moved toward Yoba, confident of his immediate 
 submission, but in the country which gave Yoba 
 to a waiting world, hall servants, however gor- 
 geously attired, had no distinct place. The wrath 
 427
 
 428 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 of the Bedford potentate, therefore, failed of any 
 effect other than a deep opulent smile. This in- 
 furiated Jeames, who, forgetful of the splendid 
 dignities inhering to such an office as his, purpled 
 with anger. 
 
 " Get out ! " he shouted. " And be quick about 
 it," and while speaking caught Yoba by the arm 
 as though he would lead him to the door. 
 
 To his amazement, Yoba didn't move. Had 
 he been a bronze statue weighing half a ton 
 he could not have stood more fixed and solid. 
 Jeames now began to feel decidedly uncomforta- 
 ble. He had reached the end of his special re- 
 sources and accomplished nothing. Nothing 
 remained but to call for assistance, something 
 he had not done since entering the Bedford house- 
 hold. Accordingly he touched an electric button, 
 an emergency affair with which certain Gotham 
 mansions are provided, and soon a stalwart foot- 
 man appeared in the hall. 
 
 " What is the matter? " he asked. 
 
 His clothes were American, his accent Irish. 
 
 " This sawed-off nigger has a letter for Mrs. 
 Bedford, and he will neither give it to me nor 
 get out." 
 
 Jeames was assuredly very angry, or such an 
 expression as " sawed-off nigger " would never 
 have fallen from his immaculate lips. 
 
 "What does he say?" 
 
 " I can't get him to say anything."
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 429 
 
 " Hasn't he a tongue ? 
 
 " I should say not." 
 
 " Perhaps he has a lingo of his own." 
 
 " Try him and find out." 
 
 The suave Hibernian approached the smiling 
 Yoba, but the interview was not satisfactory. 
 Then Michael looked at Jeames, and Jeames 
 looked at Michael, Yoba meanwhile looking at 
 them both. What might have happened it 
 would be difficult to say, for wrath was beginning 
 to stir the Milesian blood, and the Hibernian who 
 does not love a scrimmage has yet to be born, 
 when fortunately Judith came into the hall. 
 Seeing Yoba, she staggered and a great fear took 
 possession of her. When Yoba saw her, he 
 pushed past the footman and hall servant and 
 gave her the letter he held in his hand. Then 
 he almost rushed for the door, both of the ser- 
 vants looking after him in amazement. With a 
 face from which everything of blood had de- 
 parted, Judith went into the library and opened 
 the mysterious letter. For a time her eyes refused 
 obedience to her will. All she could see was a 
 sheet of paper upon which tracings of ink were 
 visible. Her hands also were in rebellion, for 
 they caused the paper to tremble so violently that 
 to read it was impossible. But nerving herself 
 by a supreme effort she spread the letter on the 
 table at which she was standing, and gradually 
 its meaning broke upon her mind.
 
 430 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " My dear Judith," it said. " Kindly arrange 
 to meet me this afternoon at the Sembrada. Mr. 
 Neumarck, as you are aware, has apartments 
 there, and if you can find time to call on him 
 he will be very glad. There is no need of going 
 into particulars now except to suggest that 
 nothing, I trust, will detain you from this ap- 
 pointment. Suppose I say four o'clock. If I 
 do not see you then I shall do myself the great 
 pleasure of calling on Mr. Paul Bedford this 
 evening. 
 
 " GERALD." 
 
 Poor Judith! Did ever woman receive such 
 a staggering blow? Only the night before had 
 she pleaded with Paul Bedford for the love a 
 wife should have from her husband. Now she 
 learned that her claim was valueless, that she had 
 not even a right to his name, and that the hus- 
 band of former years had returned from death 
 to demjand her immediate presence. It seemed 
 like some horrible dream. She could not imagine 
 such a thing possible. The letter must be a cruel 
 forgery. Gerald Bothwell was on the Portland 
 steamer when it was wrecked off the eastern 
 coast. Had she not made the most searching 
 inquiries, and been given the most definite proof ? 
 But who sent Yoba with this letter, and how did 
 the writer know of her acquaintance with Mr. 
 Neumarck, or of her visit to his apartments at
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 431 
 
 the Sembrada? Either a fearful conspiracy was 
 being planned, the object undoubtedly to pur- 
 chase her silence, or Then she shuddered. 
 
 She had ordered the carriage for eleven, intend- 
 ing to do some shopping and lunching afterward 
 with Mrs. Helmsley, but she remained in her 
 room, one moment looking at the letter with eyes 
 full of horror, and the next sobbing as if her 
 heart were breaking. What hours these were! 
 Each one seemed an age in itself. The dainty 
 little clock, one of Paul's gifts from Paris, chimed 
 sweetly, but to Judith it seemed as a prison bell 
 tolling the knell of some poor wretch who on the 
 morrow must face the awful mystery of death. 
 
 As the afternoon came on callers presented 
 themselves at the Bedford mansion, but the 
 solemn " Not at home " of Jeames was the in- 
 variable reply. 
 
 At three o'clock, in the plainest of walking 
 costumes and heavily veiled, Judith set out for 
 the Sembrada. 
 
 How well she remembered her former visit 
 and her interview with Mr. Neumarck! At that 
 time she was on a very different errand. She 
 had recovered from the shock occasioned by Both- 
 well's death, and was beginning to rejoice in her 
 freedom. To deal fairly by Judith, it is only 
 just to say that when she heard of Bothwell 
 being a passenger on the ill-fated steamer, she 
 was greatly distressed. For a time she really
 
 432 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 sorrowed. Her sympathies were touched, and 
 her memory of Bothwell had in it a goodly meas- 
 ure of tenderness. She even resented the success- 
 ful issue of Mr. Milltrum's railroad scheme, and 
 there were days when her heart was full of bitter- 
 ness. But she had never loved Bothwell. His 
 influence over her at times was very strong, 
 almost mesmeric, dominating her most strangely, 
 but her marriage was not the result of either 
 affection or desire, a yielding rather to her 
 father's urgent plea. There was, however, an 
 element of adventure in the secrecy and mystery 
 of the proceeding which appealed to her. At 
 heart Judith was an intriguante. The French 
 strain in her blood, combined with tendencies 
 inherited from her mother, gave a certain 
 piquancy to her relations with Bothwell, and there 
 were times when she looked forward to a 
 dramatic climax in which she would have a promi- 
 nent part. But when it was known that Both- 
 well had taken passage for Portland, and that 
 there was no possible doubt as to his death, she 
 immediately saw an easy escape from all em- 
 barrassment. With a feeling, therefore, of com- 
 parative gladness she went to the Sembrada, 
 hoping to find the jewel-casket containing the 
 certificate bearing Father Auvergne's signature. 
 She had a notion, by no means uncommon, that 
 with the destruction of the certificate all positive 
 evidence of her marriage would be removed.
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 433 
 
 Thinking over these things and recalling every 
 detail of her interview with Mr. Neumarck, she 
 remembered the keen, suspicious way in which 
 he had questioned her respecting Bothwell. How 
 inscrutable his face! How mysterious his smile! 
 How full of mockery his words ! Was it possible 
 that he knew anything of Bothwell? Why then 
 had he not told her? What was his motive in 
 such outrageous deception? 
 
 With a heavy heart, and a mind full of baffling 
 questions, Judith reached the Sembrada, and ere 
 long was shown to Mr. Neumarck's apartment. 
 He was sitting in his wheeled chair, just as she 
 had seen him before, the years only adding to the 
 ferret sharpness of his eyes and the mocking 
 smile of his thin, cruel lips. 
 
 " Can you tell me the meaning of this letter? " 
 Judith asked, with a touch of imperiousness, her 
 splendid beauty enhanced by the excitement under 
 which she labored. 
 
 " Some letters explain themselves," he an- 
 swered, taking the letter from her hand, " others 
 require an interpreter." 
 
 There was something so suggestive in Mr. 
 Neumarck's manner, that Judith instantly sus- 
 pected him of knowing more about the letter than 
 he pretended. 
 
 " You remember my calling here soon after 
 Mr. Bothwell's death ? " The look Judith gave 
 Mr. Neumarck was earnest and searching.
 
 434 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " My memory is tolerably good," he sneeringly 
 replied. 
 
 " Had you any reason to believe at that time 
 that Mr. Bothwell was not a passenger on the 
 Portland boat?" 
 
 Again Judith's eyes searched the face of Mr. 
 Neumarck, but a child might just as well have 
 tried to decipher an Egyptian monolith. 
 
 " This is not a court-room, Mrs. Bedford," and 
 the thin lips curled slightly. 
 
 " I am aware of that. But if you knew that 
 Mr. Bothwell 'had not sailed on that boat, and 
 instead of being drowned, as we all supposed, 
 was living somewhere in the West, why didn't 
 you tell me? " 
 
 " How was I to know that you had any special 
 interest in Mr. Bothwell? You merely hinted at 
 some kind of a friendship, and your chief concern, 
 as I remember our interview, was the jewel- 
 casket Bothwell had placed in my keeping." 
 
 " You knew nothing then of my relations with 
 Mr. Bothwell?" 
 
 " Am I a witness in the hands of a lawyer ? " 
 
 " You may evade my questions in any way you 
 please. Such seems to be your intent. But if you 
 wilfully withheld from me the fact of Mr. Both- 
 well being alive at that time, you were guilty of 
 a foul, contemptible deception, one which allowed 
 me to contract an unlawful marriage." 
 
 " Do I need to tell you again, Mrs. Bedford,
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 435 
 
 that you never once intimated that you were Mr. 
 Bothwell's wife ? Why didn't you inform me of 
 that very interesting fact? I might have been 
 of service to you, which would have given me 
 great pleasure." 
 
 Mr. Neumarck accompanied his words with a 
 mocking gesture. 
 
 " Do you know anything of Mr. Bothwell, or 
 of that letter in your hands? " 
 
 Judith was now standing close to Mr. Neu- 
 marck's chair, her eyes flashing, and her face 
 blazing with anger. 
 
 " Double-headed questions, Mrs. Bedford, are 
 always troublesome. But " touching the bell 
 on the table as he spoke "I will answer them 
 in my own way." 
 
 The bell was answered with singular prompt- 
 ness, when Mr. Neumarck said to the servant : 
 
 " Tell Mr. Simlick I wish to see him." 
 
 " Simlick," Judith questioned herself. " Where 
 have I heard that name? It seems familiar." 
 
 Then as a lightning-flash illumines the night, 
 revealing skies and mountains hidden in the dark- 
 ness, so in a moment she was back in Nevada, 
 once more seeing the mysterious Yoba at the car 
 window with a letter from Mr. Simlick for Paul. 
 Another flash brought back her terror at that 
 time, the agony she endured lest the Simlick 
 spoken of might be none other than Gerald Both- 
 well. A terrible fear now came upon her. Filled
 
 436 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 with a nameless dread, her eyes followed the ser- 
 vant as he left the room, nor were they withdrawn 
 from the door until it opened again and Mr. Sim- 
 lick entered the parlor. At first her heart gave a 
 great bound of relief, for there was little in his 
 appearance to recall Gerald Bothwell. 
 
 " This is Mrs. Bedford, who has come to make 
 certain inquiries regarding a letter she received 
 this morning. Perhaps you can enlighten her, 
 Mr. Simlick." 
 
 Mr. Neumarck's face was almost diabolical in 
 its expression, and his small, piercing eyes 
 gleamed maliciously. 
 
 For a moment Mr. Simlick silently regarded 
 Judith, then crossing the room to where a table 
 stood in the semi-darkness, he removed his false 
 bushy whiskers and blue spectacles, and in an in- 
 stant revealed himself as Gerald Bothwell. 
 
 "Gerald!" Judith gasped. 
 
 " Judith," he answered, quietly. 
 
 Then she dropped into a chair and looked at 
 him tremblingly. 
 
 " Permit me to retire, Mrs. Bedford. Mr. 
 Simlick, I have no doubt, can answer your further 
 inquiries regarding Mr. Bothwell," Mr. Neu- 
 marck said, as he wheeled his chair into the next 
 room. Then a servant closed the folding doors, 
 leaving Judith alone with Bothwell. 
 
 " I assume you received my note," he said as 
 he stood looking down at Judith, who sat almost
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 437 
 
 helpless in her chair. " It was kind of you to 
 answer it in person. But I expected you would 
 dp so." 
 
 " Gerald, why did you ever consent to such 
 a deception? See what it has led to. Are you 
 aware that I am married to Paul Bedford ? " 
 
 Judith could hardly speak above a whisper, and 
 each word was gasped out with manifest difficulty. 
 
 " Yes, married to him, but not his wife. That 
 honor is mine, Judith. Father Auvergne yet 
 lives. The church register remains. And I have 
 returned to claim the proud privilege of being 
 your husband." 
 
 There was an expression on Bothwell's face 
 that caused Judith to shiver from head to foot. 
 
 ' The welcome you have given me is not all 
 I might reasonably expect after these years of 
 separation, but in time, Judith, you will doubt- 
 less restore me to my former place in your heart." 
 
 This time Bothwell smiled, but it was a cruel, 
 pitiless smile. 
 
 Then Judith leaped to her feet. Her moment 
 of weakness was past. To be taunted in this way 
 goaded her to a passion bordering on fury. 
 
 " Gerald Bothwell," she said, fearlessly, meet- 
 ing his startled look, " when I married Paul 
 Bedford there was no doubt in my mind but you 
 had been a passenger on the Portland boat. You 
 sent me no word. You gave me no hint. You 
 made no sign. For all these years you have
 
 438 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 been as one dead. Now you return and demand 
 that I come back to you, insisting that I leave 
 the man whose name I bear, and whom I love 
 with all my heart. Yes, you may well wince, 
 and scowl, and clench your hand. But these 
 things have no effect on me, Gerald Bothwell. 
 I have only another word to say the courts 
 may annul my marriage with Paul Bedford and 
 compel me to assume your name. Of that, how- 
 ever, I am not certain, but one thing I am cer- 
 tain of, all the courts on God's earth will not 
 compel me to return to you." 
 
 " Don't speak so positively, Judith. You may 
 have to change your mind." 
 
 " I will never change my heart. You have 
 played the part of a coward, a poltroon, and no 
 woman with a drop of decent blood in her veins 
 would acknowledge you as her husband. You 
 are mean enough to denounce me to Paul Bed- 
 ford. Perhaps you have already done that. 
 You certainly implied as much in this letter. But 
 I defy you. From this hour I renounce you. I 
 hope never to see your face again. Now do your 
 worst." 
 
 Judith spoke with a passion that gave to each 
 word the force of a bullet. 
 
 Never had Bothwell seen her so aroused, or 
 so gloriously handsome as at this moment. She 
 had the bearing of a queen. Her face was 
 worthy of a Greek goddess. When Bothwell
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 439 
 
 entered the room his heart was burning with a 
 desire for revenge, but as he looked at Judith 
 in- her superb beauty, a wild, fierce passion swept 
 over him as a mighty wave from a fathomless 
 sea. Then he said : 
 
 "Judith, forgive me! I deserve everything 
 you have said. But the police were on my track. 
 Everything was against me. I was simply des- 
 perate. Watching my chance, I went West, in- 
 tending to send for you at the first opportunity. 
 Before that time came you had married Bedford. 
 Then I swore an oath of revenge. In fulfilment 
 of that oath I came East, determined to bank- 
 rupt his business, break up his home, perhaps 
 take his life. But, Judith, if you will consent 
 to be my wife, I will forego everything. We 
 can go away somewhere, and begin all over again. 
 I am rich, richer possibly than Bedford. You 
 can have anything and everything you please. 
 Just say the word, and I will take all the legal 
 steps necessary. I mean this, Judith, and if you 
 accept my offer, you will never regret it." 
 
 As Bothwell spoke, his face lost everything of 
 harshness, and he seemed as the lover of bygone 
 years. Approaching Judith, he bent over her 
 with a tender, appealing look, and would fain 
 have taken her hands in his. 
 
 " It is too late, Gerald," and there was a sad- 
 ness in her voice, which made it even more im- 
 pressive than her former passionate speech.
 
 440 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 " Your time to speak was long ago. You may 
 be rich, but there are some things money can- 
 not buy. I did not always think so, but I know 
 better now. You are too late." 
 
 "Don't say that, Judith." 
 
 " Yes, Gerald, I must say it." 
 
 " Remember what this means to Paul Bedford. 
 I have sworn " 
 
 " Your oaths are of little consequence to Paul 
 Bedford. You cannot harm him, Gerald. But 
 I spoke angrily a moment since. Forgive me. 
 I do not wish -our last interview to have such 
 a memory. You are free, Gerald, to take what- 
 ever steps you wish. I will not oppose you in 
 anything. Arrange matters as may seem best. 
 Now I must be going. Good-by," and before 
 Bothwell could interfere, Judith had gone out, 
 hurried to the elevator, and in a few minutes 
 had left the Sembrada. 
 
 On reaching home, Judith went to her room, 
 where she spent a few minutes at her desk, tying 
 up and arranging some papers. Then, taking a 
 photograph of Paul which stood on her dressing- 
 table, she kissed it passionately again and again. 
 Her face was deadly pale, and, as she looked at 
 the photograph, her eyes burned strangely. Out- 
 wardly, she seemed calm, very unlike the pas- 
 sionate, imperious Judith, who only an hour 
 before had defied Bothwell in words hotter than 
 lava from the heart of a burning mountain. And
 
 JUDITH'S ATONEMENT 441 
 
 that calmness remained, for, when the maid went 
 to Mrs. Bedford's dressing-room to arrange her 
 dinner toilet, Judith was found on her couch in 
 a deep, dreamless sleep, her beautiful face in- 
 vested with a peace only possible to those who 
 have passed through the gates of death.
 
 XII. 
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS 
 
 TH 
 
 [ANKS to the kindly offices of Doctor 
 Barrington, who immediately responded to Paul's 
 message, a formal inquest was avoided. Certain 
 inquiries were inevitable, but everything was so 
 arranged that few suspected the cause of Judith's 
 death. Even the newspapers, always so eager 
 for details, and often brutally indifferent about 
 intruding on private matters, were baffled by the 
 course of Doctor Barrington. They all gave 
 generous space to the announcement, which was 
 only natural, for Mrs. Bedford had been very 
 prominent in the social life of the city, but there 
 was not a hint as to the actual facts in the case. 
 Judith's deep sleep, therefore, was not disturbed. 
 When Gerald Bothwell saw the startling para- 
 graphs in the morning paper, he was certain 
 that some terrible mistake had been made. It 
 could not possibly be true. Judith dead! Only 
 a few hours before he had met her at the Sem- 
 brada, when her beauty was never more enthrall- 
 ing, and when life in glorious effulgence flashed 
 
 442
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS 443 
 
 from her eyes and throbbed in her veins ! Some 
 silly reporter had brought about a confusion of 
 names. No other explanation was possible. 
 But when he looked through the other papers 
 and saw the same announcement, a sense of awful 
 dread came upon himi. Calling Yoba, he sent 
 him to the Bedford mansion, and when Yoba 
 returned, doubt was no longer possible. 
 
 Then a great rage took possession of Both- 
 well. He walked up and down his room as one 
 demented. He raved like a madman. His eyes 
 had a wild, dangerous glare, and there was a 
 look on his face from which most men would 
 shrink, for it meant that he was in an ugly mood, 
 and would brook no trifling. Yoba, who had 
 often seen his master in fierce anger, for the first 
 time quailed before him, so fearful was the pas- 
 sion under which he labored. Judith's glorious 
 beauty, as he had seen her the day before, came 
 upon him as a vision. He remembered how 
 proudly she had borne herself in that strange 
 interview, when he had suddenly appeared as one 
 from the dead. He could see her rising from 
 her chair, and with the mien of an outraged 
 empress denounce him for his cowardice, and 
 with unutterable scorn refuse his tardy offers 
 of reparation. 
 
 Then he remembered the infinite pathos with 
 which she said : 
 
 " It is too late, Gerald, too late, too late ! "
 
 444 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 He felt now that her anger was justified, and 
 that the part he had played was despicable. How 
 easily he could have let her know of his escape! 
 With Yoba ever ready to do his will, and upon 
 whose fidelity he could always rely, why had 
 he not communicated with her? To carry out 
 his own selfish ends, he had left her alone, and 
 for more than three years had not given her even 
 a hint that he was alive. The shame of it, the 
 cruelty of it, the perfidy of it, now filled him 
 with horror. He thought of his letter summon- 
 ing her to the Sembrada, cold, curt, threatening, 
 and of all that his demands implied, a sur- 
 render of Paul Bedford's name, an exposure of 
 the secret she had guarded with such care, a 
 withdrawal from the position to which she had 
 attained, and her immediate expulsion from the 
 circles to which her beauty and wealth had given 
 her such generous welcome. Without a word 
 of warning, as lightning from a cloudless sky, 
 all this humiliation had come upon her, and it 
 was his work, the man with whom she had once 
 exchanged marriage vows! Now she was dead, 
 dead in the house of Paul Bedford, while he 
 would not be permitted to look upon her face. 
 
 But there are times when repentance is una- 
 vailing, when the most bitter regrets are value- 
 less, and when sorrow, however deep, fails to 
 accomplish any good. At such times, remorse 
 only leads to recklessness, and men forget every-
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS 445 
 
 thing except their own guilt and shame. Then 
 they become hopeless, and their despair assumes 
 a form of frenzy. 
 
 While Bothwell was in this condition, Mr. 
 Neumarck came into his room, and, with a sneer, 
 said: 
 
 ' That lovers' quarrel of yours has turned out 
 seriously. Judith evidently preferred the other 
 man. Which shall I offer you sympathy or 
 congratulations ? " 
 
 If Mr. Neumarck had given Bothwell even a 
 casual glance, he would not have spoken in this 
 fashion. For once his sharp ferret eyes failed 
 in their duty. 
 
 " You are the cause of all this," Bothwell re- 
 torted, fiercely, glaring at Mr. Neumarck with 
 the eyes of a maniac. 
 
 " In what way am I responsible? You have 
 a habit, Mr. Bothwell, of allowing other men 
 to carry your burdens. In this instance, I refuse 
 to accommodate you." 
 
 The cool, mocking tone of Mr. Neumarck was 
 simply maddening. 
 
 " Had it not been for you, this would not have 
 happened," Bothwell said more fiercely than be- 
 fore, taking up the newspaper from the table, 
 and pointing with trembling finger to an an- 
 nouncement of Judith's death. 
 
 " Did I remain in Nevada for three years, and 
 allow my wife to become the bride of our mutual
 
 446 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 friend, Mr. Paul Bedford? Did I write to Mrs. 
 Paul Bedford, inviting her to call at the Sem- 
 brada? Did I propose to her that we quietly 
 ignore the incident of her second marriage, and 
 resume the blissful relations of former years? 
 My dear Mr. Bothwell, reserve your wrath for 
 some one else. It is a pity to waste it on me." 
 
 While speaking, Mr. Neumarck's sharp, glit- 
 tering eyes had in them a gleam of contempt. 
 
 " Damn you for an old rascal ! " Bothwell 
 exclaimed, now goaded to desperation. " Who 
 was it that fitted out the Vampire, and induced 
 Carreau to go with me into the smuggling busi- 
 ness, and then held a noose over our heads because 
 of the revenue officer who was drowned? Who 
 was it, when you were running Cranburg's, be- 
 cause I was in your toils, compelled me to act 
 as a decoy? And when I was in Nevada, and 
 wrote you that I was coming home, you, you, 
 refused your permission, and I had to stay. Only 
 for you, Judith would now be living. She would 
 have come to me in Nevada. You are a cold- 
 blooded scoundrel. Another word, and I'll wring 
 your crooked old neck." 
 
 Mr. Neumarck was no coward. There 'had 
 often been desperate hazards in his life, but no 
 man had ever seen him show signs of fear. More 
 than once he had looked death in the face, when 
 the least weakness would have been fatal, yet his 
 courage never failed him. He was utterly heart-
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS 447 
 
 less, knew nothing of pity or tenderness, fol- 
 lowed with unrelenting hate those who crossed 
 his path, but he was no craven. He therefore 
 met Bothwell's angry glare with a cool, steady 
 look, his long, clawlike ringers, meantime, toying 
 with a revolver in his pocket. 
 
 " Do not try any of your tricks on me, Mr. 
 Bothwell. You are merely a coarse, vulgar brute, 
 and I'm not surprised that Judith " 
 
 Blinded with passion, Bothwell leaped at the 
 chair in which Mr. Neumarck was sitting, and 
 in another instant would have caught him by 
 the throat, when Neumarck gave a sudden turn 
 to the chair, causing Bothwell to miss it, and 
 stagger almost to the floor. Quick as a flash, 
 Neumarck drew his revolver and fired, the bullet 
 piercing Bothwell's heart, and killing him in- 
 stantly. Yoba, who had been standing near the 
 door all this time, seeing Bothwell reel and fall, 
 with the spring of an infuriated panther, and 
 uttering a strange, unearthly cry, leaped upon 
 Neumarck. The attack was so sudden, so fero-' 
 cious, that Neumarck's revolver was useless, and 
 he was powerless in Yoba's terrible grasp. 
 
 In such a hotel as the Sembrada, a pistol-shot 
 aroused immediate confusion among the several 
 guests, a number of whom, locating the report, 
 rushed to Neumarck's apartment, and were thus 
 in time to save the unfortunate man from being 
 strangled.
 
 448 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 On the floor lay the body of Bothwell, while at 
 the end of the room, pinioned to the floor by the 
 infuriated Yoba, his face blue, his eyes bulging 
 under the death-grip upon his throat, was Neu- 
 marck. 
 
 With difficulty Yoba was torn off, and held by 
 the hotel servants until he became quieter. Neu- 
 marck, quite insensible, was carried to his 
 chamber, and laid upon his bed, where he was 
 guarded until the police could be summoned. 
 
 Upon Neumarck's departure from the room, 
 Yoba, looking around with a half-terrified and 
 dazed expression, suddenly caught sight of his 
 master, and, with a weird cry, sat upon the floor 
 at Bothwell's side, and, taking the head upon 
 his knees, smoothed the face tenderly with his 
 hands, and spoke to it in his own strange way. 
 
 He gave no heed to the crowd as they pushed 
 and jostled, other than bend his face so far down 
 over that of Bothwell as to protect it from the 
 vulgar gaze of those who had forced their way 
 into the apartment. 
 
 When the police came to make an examination 
 of the apartment and gather such evidence as 
 would be essential at the inquest, they experi- 
 enced much difficulty with Yoba. He would 
 not allow them to touch the body of Bothwell. 
 When they desired to place it on a lounge, where 
 the doctor might discover the cause of death, he 
 fought with the strength of a madman. Finally,
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS 449 
 
 the hotel clerk, who more than once had be- 
 friended Yoba, prevailed upon him to allow the 
 corpse to be carried to Bothwell's room, and 
 laid upon his bed. No sooner was this done than 
 he placed himself as sentinel, where he watched 
 with increasing vigilance, not leaving the room 
 day or night. At first the authorities thought 
 of arresting Yoba, and for a time he was under 
 police surveillance, but the confession of Neu- 
 marck, upon gaining consciousness some days 
 later at the hospital, put matters in a clear light. 
 Mr. Milltrum's earnest advocacy of Yoba's cause 
 undoubtedly helped to secure his release, for he, 
 though deeply shocked by the sudden death of 
 Judith, hastened to the Sembrada when he saw 
 in the papers an account of Yoba's singular devo- 
 tion to his late master, who was spoken of as 
 Simlick, a Western mine owner. The moment 
 Yoba saw Mr. Milltrum he gave him a look of 
 grateful recognition, then taking his hand, placed 
 it on his head, just as he had done three years 
 before in Nevada, after which he made other 
 signs expressive of gratitude and devotion. 
 
 " I will be responsible for this man," Mr. Mill- 
 trum said to the coroner. " You can trust him 
 with me. I met him out West, some years ago, 
 where he rendered me a great service. If bail 
 is required, I will furnish whatever is necessary." 
 
 " The evidence all points to Neumarck as the 
 murderer, and so far there is no criminal charge
 
 450 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 against Yoba," the coroner answered, looking 
 at him as he spoke, " but the circumstances are 
 so peculiar that I would like to have him bonded 
 in some way." 
 
 " Just as you please. If my bond is not suf- 
 ficient " 
 
 " Yours is ample, Mr. Milltrum. The clerk 
 will make out the papers." 
 
 Yoba remained in the Sembrada, keeping his 
 strange vigil, the solitary watcher at Bothwell's 
 bier, and the only mourner who followed his 
 body to the cemetery, after which he went to 
 the house of Mr. Milltrum, where he remained. 
 
 How pitiless is fate ! How implacable is des- 
 tiny ! With what remorselessness the iron wheels 
 fit into each other! If Both well and Neumarck 
 must needs have a fatal quarrel, why should it 
 have been so delayed? A day earlier would have 
 saved Judith. For Paul, at whatever cost to 
 himself, had resolved to guard her secret. He 
 knew that their relations never could be any- 
 thing but formal, and, though bearing his name, 
 she would have no place in his heart. After a 
 fearful struggle, one that taxed every fibre of 
 his being, he had sworn himself to secrecy. If 
 these men, therefore, had fought before Judith 
 had been imperiously summoned to the Sembrada, 
 her life would not have gone out in such utter 
 darkness. 
 
 Knowing of Judith's intense love for the South,
 
 THE COMBINATION ENDS 451 
 
 and realizing that she had no claim on the little 
 cemetery at Pelham, Paul arranged for her 
 burial in the churchyard of St. John's, beside the 
 graves of her father and mother. 
 
 Father Auvergne met the little company at the 
 railway station, and, with a voice tremulous with 
 deep emotion, performed the last rites of the 
 church. 
 
 " I kept her secret," Paul said to the aged 
 priest, as they turned away from the grave now 
 covered with flowers, leaving Mr. Milltrum 
 standing with bowed and uncovered head at the 
 tomb of Kate Carreau. 
 
 " And God will reward you, my son," Father 
 Auvergne answered, softly. " He always re- 
 wards those who bear the cross in His name. 
 Does Mr. Milltrum suspect anything?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor any one else ? " glancing for a moment 
 at the Misses Milltrum, who were giving a final 
 touch to the flowers on Judith's grave. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Bedford, as we have buried Judith 
 in this quiet spot where she sleeps in a holy peace, 
 let us also bury the secret of her early life. Poor 
 Judith!" 
 
 For reply, Paul held out his hand, which Fa- 
 ther Auvergne clasped silently, and, as each man 
 looked into the other's face, both felt that a cove- 
 nant had been made which only death could annul.
 
 XIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 JL RUE to his promise, Mr. Milltrum accepted 
 Miriam Holbrook's generous offer, though she 
 little imagined his purpose in doing so. For that 
 matter, he was equally in the dark so far as un- 
 derstanding her motive in making such a propo- 
 sition. That a young woman, because of a chance 
 rumor affecting the credit of Milltrum Bros., 
 should voluntarily place her fortune at his dis- 
 posal, seemed to Mr. Milltrum a remarkable 
 proceeding. He determined to give Miss Hoi- 
 brook some proof of his appreciation of her 
 kindness, and as a consequence had various 
 chucklings with himself, not even sharing them 
 with Paul Bedford. Mr. Milltrum did not tell 
 Miriam that the mysterious combination, which 
 threatened such dire results to the firm bearing 
 his name, had collapsed in the most extraordinary 
 way, the principals disappearing as creatures of 
 a dream. Neither did he say that Milltrum 
 Bros, had not only weathered the storm, nor that 
 Paul, by taking advantage of the stress into 
 
 452
 
 CONCLUSION 453 
 
 which some men were driven, was able to regain 
 all that had been lost, with a handsome profit as 
 well, besides placing the Saxby interests beyond 
 all risk. Of these things the artful Mr. Milltrum 
 said not a word. Yet he saw Miss Holbrook 
 quite often. Indeed, he went to her house so 
 frequently that Mrs. Holbrook sometimes laughed 
 at Miriam and her conquest of the cheery old 
 Westerner. 
 
 " We came out ahead to-day," he whispered 
 to Miriam one afternoon as she handed him a 
 cup of tea. 
 
 " I am so glad," she whispered in return. 
 
 " I think the worst is over," he said, know- 
 ingly, helping himself to an extra lump of sugar. 
 
 Miriam's face brightened, and she smiled at 
 him gratefully. 
 
 As a blessed old humbug, Mr. Milltrum had 
 few equals. That very day Paul had made what 
 some mien would call a fortune! 
 
 So it went on for several weeks, Mr. Milltrum 
 making his reports to Miriam with the gravity 
 of a Chinese mandarin, she listening with un- 
 abated eagerness. Miriam began at length to 
 feel that she was actually a sort of partner in 
 the firm of Milltrum Bros., an associate with 
 Paul Bedford! To think of this gave her sin- 
 gular pleasure. She therefore looked forward 
 to Mr. Milltrum's visits, entering earnestly into 
 the conversation. One day, much to her disap-
 
 454 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 pointment, he returned the securities she had 
 placed at his disposal, thanking her earnestly for 
 the service they had rendered. With the papers 
 was a little package, which he said was part in- 
 terest on her loan. When he had gone, she 
 opened the package and found a, diamond neck- 
 let, more rich and beautiful than anything she 
 had ever seen. Putting it aside carefully, not 
 even showing the jewels to her mother, she 
 waited for Mr. Milltrum's next visit. 
 
 " I cannot possibly accept such a costly gift," 
 she said, earnestly. " Besides, Mr. Milltrum, 
 this looks like payment, and you know I never 
 thought of such a thing." 
 
 " Payment ! Nonsense, sheer nonsense, Miss 
 Holbrook! One day, during the flurry, I took 
 what we call a ' little flier,' used some of your 
 money, or its equivalent, which with us is the 
 same thing. Paul managed the business so that 
 we came out on the right side. Then I took the 
 liberty of investing your share in these trinkets, 
 thinking you would prefer them to plain money." 
 
 Mr. Milltrum was justified in saying that he 
 had taken a " little flier." He had taken several. 
 " Little fliers " were a pastime of his, and he 
 would sometimes get more actual fun out of them 
 than from larger investments. But how he came 
 to say that he had used Miriam's money is a 
 financial mystery. For Miriam's securities 
 never once left the private safe in Paul Bed-
 
 CONCLUSION 455 
 
 ford's office from the day they were first put 
 there until they were returned to her by Mr. 
 Milltrum ! 
 
 " Your assistance was most timely, Miss Hoi- 
 brook. It was exceedingly kind of you. We 
 had many offers of help during this trouble, but 
 none was more gratefully received than yours." 
 
 In saying this, Mr. Milltrum gave Miriam 
 the feeling that she had helped to save Milltrum 
 Bros, from bankruptcy! 
 
 " You mean to say that my trifling help was 
 worth all this ? " she asked, as she looked at the 
 diamonds glittering in her hand. 
 
 " Worth a great deal more. Paul said so when 
 I gave him your letter. You can keep the trinket 
 with a clear conscience." 
 
 And she did, though never wearing it, at least 
 not for some time, outside of her own room. But 
 she frequently put it on there, and a glad light 
 would shine in her eyes when she remembered 
 that the jewels were the result of her partnership 
 with Paul. 
 
 When Mr. and Mrs. Saxby returned from 
 Europe, Mrs. Saxby was most urgent in her de- 
 sire that Paul should make his home in Pelham, 
 pleading that as he was now alone and had no 
 home ties in New York, he could do this without 
 inconvenience to himself. So he went back to 
 the place where he had first met Miriam, and 
 her memory seemed even more grateful than ever.
 
 456 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 Mrs. Saxby, greatly to Doctor Barrington's sur- 
 prise, most vividly recalled her strange experience 
 at Interlaken, and questioned him again and again 
 with regard to that evening when she was so 
 startled by what seemed an apparition. The 
 doctor frankly admitted his own feeling when 
 Miss Holbrook came down that same evening 
 from her room to speak with Paul on the hotel 
 piazza. But he had no explanation to offer, con- 
 fessing that the likeness was so extraordinary 
 that the one would anywhere be taken for the 
 other. Had Doctor Barrington known that the 
 two Miriams were born on the same day, and 
 that the resemblance in disposition and charac- 
 ter was fully as definite as that of form and 
 feature, he would have been even more perplexed. 
 
 In the spring, Paul having urgent business in 
 London, which was likely to detain him there 
 for some months, suggested that the Milltrums 
 take a house with him in Portman Square. 
 
 " On two conditions," Mr. Milltrum answered, 
 " that Maud give up duke hunting, and Peggy 
 solemnly promise not to drag me up the Gemmi. 
 I am willing that Maud should marry, but I draw 
 the line at dukes. I might consent to an earl, or 
 even a marquis, but a duke never." 
 
 " He was once mistaken for a duke, you re- 
 member, Paul, in Switzerland, and since then 
 to mention one in his presence is like a red rag 
 to a bull," Maud laughingly retorted.
 
 CONCLUSION 457 
 
 " Portmlan Square is swarming with dukes, and 
 who knows but even Peggy may become a duch- 
 ess." 
 
 " I remember very distinctly your honoring 
 me with a title, and for a whole evening address- 
 ing me as ' My lord.' Have you forgotten ? " 
 
 " No, Peggy, I haven't. Nor am I likely to. 
 You remind me of it often enough, goodness 
 knows." 
 
 " Bert Vernon has given me a dress rehearsal 
 of that performance," Paul said. " I wish " 
 
 " That Bert Vernon was in Jericho. I didn't 
 grimace and smirk one-fiftieth part of his per- 
 formance of the show." 
 
 " Eighteen times in three minutes you ' My 
 lorded ' me," Peggy interjected. " I kept count. 
 And you boast of being descended from the Pil- 
 grim Fathers! Would you believe it, Paul, he 
 carries a bit of Plymouth Rock in his vest-pocket. 
 But at Cranburg's 
 
 " A mtan allowed a designing woman to mud- 
 dle his wits, a sin for which he has had to do 
 all kinds of penance, and of which he is often 
 painfully reminded," retorted Mr. Milltrum, add- 
 ing, " Paul, unless you covenant and agree to 
 restrain Peggy from wanderings on the Gemmii, 
 nothing will induce me to go with you." 
 
 They went to London, remaining there until 
 September, though Paul left them for a couple 
 of weeks in August. Had he been followed by
 
 458 THE MYSTERY OF MIRIAM 
 
 any one careful to mark his doings, he might 
 have been seen in the American Chapel one Sun- 
 day morning, the only Sunday he spent in Paris ; 
 and then, a few days later, he went over the 
 Gemmi Pass, remaining all night at the little 
 hospice near the summit, actually sitting in the 
 crow's nest, where he had once sat with Miriam 
 Holbrook! 
 
 But no one followed him, so his doings were 
 not known to the Milltrums. 
 
 Mrs. Saxby, through some mutual friends, 
 easily made the acquaintance of the Holbrooks, 
 and, during Paul's absence, invited Miriam to 
 Pelham. At first Mrs. Saxby was more nervous 
 and disturbed than she seemed, and at times 
 regretted the presence of her guest. But in a 
 few days this feeling wore away. Then she 
 found her heart going out most strangely to the 
 new Miriam. She would listen for her voice 
 as a mother for that of her child. She watched 
 her every movement with rare delight. When 
 Miriam, at the table, or in the library, would 
 indulge in some pleasantry, or turn aside grace- 
 fully a chance remark of Mr. Saxby, Mrs. Saxby 
 would look at her as though seeing and hearing 
 again the Miriam of years before. Mr. Saxby 
 was equally impressed, and long ere Miriam's 
 visit had closed the iron doors of his heart were 
 reopened, and she had entered to take a daugh- 
 ter's place.
 
 CONCLUSION 459 
 
 After she had gone, the house seemed very 
 lonely and desolate, so much so that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Saxby went to Newport for the rest of the sum- 
 mer. In the fall they prevailed upon Miriam 
 to spend a few days with them at Pelham, when 
 the autumnal foliage was in its glory and the 
 September skies were rich in light and beauty. 
 
 She was standing on the broad steps one even- 
 ing, watching with glowing face a sunset of 
 marvellous brilliance, when she heard the sound 
 of carriage wheels coming up the gravelled drive- 
 way, and in another moment Paul Bedford sprang 
 from the carriage, and was at her side. 
 
 " Miriam ! " he said, in a whisper, looking 
 eagerly into her shining eyes. 
 
 " Paul ! " she answered, with a smile that 
 filled his heart to overflowing. Then he kissed 
 her, and in that kiss he found the Miriam he 
 had lost, and she found the Paul for whom her 
 soul had hungered. 
 
 THE END.
 
 NAMI-KO 
 
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 scene associated with him, such as his birthplace, Edin- 
 burgh Home, Samoan Home, Edinburgh University, etc. 
 
 (Eefgapg ani Criticisms 
 
 ^Containing papers describing walking tours, 
 Swiss Life, and the study of literature. Collected 
 for the first time. 2 Photogravures, I volume. 
 
 ^ficmonrd anfc portraits 
 
 C_ Sixteen literary gems descriptive of Steven- 
 son's early life and thought. Illustrated by three 
 portraits of Stevenson and nine pictures associ- 
 ated with his Scottish life. I volume. 
 
 familiar Srttrtiica of ;Hrn anti 38aofcs 
 
 C.No greater proof of Stevenson's versatility and 
 power could be given than in these nine studies. 
 9 portraits and 4 Photogravures, 2 volumes. 
 
 llirgtnibus IJucrisqur anH Otbrr Wapew 
 
 C.A fit setting to what are unquestionably the 
 most charming essays of the nineteenth century. 
 I volume. 2 Photogravures. 
 
 Sin Sfalanti ^opajp 
 
 C.A modern " Sentimental Journey." Dainty, 
 bright and picturesque. Illustrated by 3 Photo- 
 gravures, I volume. 
 
 CTrabclB toitb a 3Donfeep 
 
 C.A description of rare charm of a tour among 
 the Ccvennes. Illustrated by 3 Photogravures. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 HERBERT B. TURNER & CO. 
 170 SUMMER STREET, BOSTON

 
 _ mi 111 M mil in ii in ii in ji inn inn 
 
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