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 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL
 
 THE STAIRWAY 
 ON THE WALL 
 
 BY 
 
 AUGUSTA PRESCOTT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 1911
 
 Copyright, 1911, by 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 THE PREMIER PRESS 
 NEW YORK
 
 TO THE FRIEND 
 
 Who so faithfully and tirelessly 
 accompanies me on my mental adventures
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I I PLAY THE DETECTIVE . . . .17 
 
 II THE HEPWORTH DIAMOND ... 28 
 
 III TO-MORROW NIGHT AT NINE . . 40 
 
 IV THE MYSTERIOUS AUNT FAITH . . 47 
 V I PLAY PRINCE CHARMING ... 55 
 
 VI THE HADLEY FAMILY .... 64 
 VII THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 79 
 VIII A BULLET IN THE DARK ... 90 
 IX THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES. . . 97 
 X THE REV. MR. PANCOAST Is MISS- 
 ING in 
 
 XI A MYSTERY AT MIDNIGHT . . .119 
 
 XII SIR CHARLES is DISCONCERTED . .127 
 
 XIII THE FLASH OF A DIAMOND . . . 133 
 
 XIV WITH INTENT TO KILL .... 141 
 XV A MOMENT OF TEMPTATION . . 148 
 
 XVI THE AWAKENING 154 
 
 XVII FLORENTINE is MISSING. . . .162 
 
 XVIII THE HIGHWAYWOMAN . . . .171 
 
 XIX THE STAIRWAY OF VINES . . 185 
 
 XX ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL . . . 194 
 
 XXI THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS . . . 208 
 
 XXII COUSIN IRENE AND UNCLE JASON . 218 
 
 XXIII THE MISSING HEIRLOOM . . , 227 
 
 XXIV THE VIOLET LADY AGAIN . . . 236 
 XXV UNCLE JASON PLAYS ALADDIN . . 242 
 
 XXVI ME OR MY DOUBLE 248 
 
 XXVII THE ROOM WITH THE DOUBLE 
 
 WALL 255 
 
 XXVIII THE MISSING HEPWORTH . . . 262 
 
 XXIX I BUY THE KOHINA 269 
 
 XXX SHALL IT BE ORANGE BLOSSOMS . 274 
 
 XXXI A POINT OF ETHICS 281 
 
 XXXII FLORENTINE DECIDES .... 288 
 
 XXXIII AN INTERVIEW WITH HER MOTHER 301 
 
 XXXIV PRINCE AND PRINCESS CHARMING . 313
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 I PLAY THE DETECTIVE 
 
 IT takes the pre-natal influence of jealousy to make 
 a good detective ; I am from Beverly, Mass. 5 
 and no germ of suspicion was floating in the 
 atmosphere at the time when it would have been of 
 service to me. And that is why I stood so listlessly in 
 Lady Kensington's upper rear drawing-room guard- 
 ing the wedding presents; I knew no one would take 
 them. 
 
 Circumstance not my will had brought me here; 
 circumstance coupled with the thought that I might 
 have another chance of seeing her! 
 
 Nominally I was there to watch that no one depart- 
 ing took anything that should not have been per- 
 sonally conducted from the house. Actually, down 
 deep in my heart, I knew that I was simply hoping to 
 catch a glimpse of the girl who had come into my 
 life quite dramatically and unexpectedly ten days be- 
 fore. 
 
 She had arrived with the swiftness and directness 
 of an arrow. One moment I had been care free and 
 tranquil, heart whole and happy, a bachelor at thirty- 
 three. The next instant and Cupid let fly an arrow 
 from his bow that changed the whole beating of my
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 heart. I was the victim of that astigmatism of the 
 mind's eye known as Love at First Sight. 
 
 Yet I was only the detective employed to watch the 
 wedding presents; while she was a member of the 
 British aristocracy and her family name was blazoned 
 forth in Burke. 
 
 But to go back to the wedding presents ; there were 
 three great shelves of precious stones for Lady Ken- 
 sington's guests were not among the "poor but honest" 
 class; and there were chests and coffers of silver and 
 plate. 
 
 But my special mission, the object for which I had 
 been placed in this position of responsibility, was to 
 guard one great jewel the Hepworth diamond. It 
 was a pure white stone of, I don't know how many 
 carats ; and its value was so great that Lady Kensing- 
 ton had not been able to obtain an insurance upon it. 
 
 I looked carelessly at the Hepworth for frankly it 
 did not interest me greatly and I wondered at its 
 value. There it lay in its box of blue velvet sparkling 
 like the sun; even among the other jewels it shone 
 like a comet of light placed among bodies of lesser 
 magnitude. And, though I took no keen delight in 
 it, I could not help observing that it was a very won- 
 derful stone indeed; deep, with countless facets, each 
 one catching and throwing back the colors that came 
 within the radius of its darting fire; violet, indigo, 
 blue, green, yellow, orange and red my head grew 
 dizzy watching it. 
 
 Lady Kensington, when she put me at this post 
 of honor, told me never for one instant to take my 
 eyes off it. 
 
 18
 
 I PLAY THE DETECTIVE 
 
 "Most of my daughter's dower is tied up in that 
 stone," she had cautioned me, "and I bought it for 
 her only because half the crowned heads in Europe 
 were bidding on it; don't let your eyes leave it for 
 one minute to-night." 
 
 "But if I watch it all the evening I shall be stone 
 blind," I had replied. 
 
 "Never mind," was Lady Hensington's retort, 
 "watch it for your life!" 
 
 Incidentally, I had as an assistant a man from Scot- 
 land Yard, who stood in the doorway. His duty was 
 to keep the low class crooks from getting in; mine to 
 keep the high class ones from taking things and get- 
 ting out. 
 
 The hour was eight, a most unusual time for an 
 English wedding. But it seems that the Italian Mar- 
 quis had balked at the settlements at the last moment ; 
 and it had taken us from High Noon until now to get 
 things arranged to his satisfaction. Meanwhile the 
 bride poor hysterical victim wept in her veil; 
 while Lady Kensington, her mother, and I, her lawyer, 
 signed over another million to the Italian Chambreys 
 present and to come. 
 
 Lady Hensington was a Boston woman who had 
 married a tarnished English title twenty years before. 
 Fortunately for her, Lord Hensington had died on his 
 wedding journey. And now, after a score of rather 
 precarious years in English society, Lady Hensington 
 had secured an Italian title for her only child. It 
 was not much of a title and it came high, but Lady 
 Hensington felt that she must have it. Henceforth 
 it would be, "My daughter, the Marquise de Cham- 
 
 19
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 brey!" And she had brought me, her family lawyer, 
 over from America, to help with the settlements. 
 
 "He's got everything now except v che dove-cote on 
 the Staten Island farm," I grumbled to Lady Hen- 
 sington as I sealed and settled the papers. 
 
 "Hush h! He doesn't know about it," whispered 
 she, with a timid glance over her shoulder to where 
 his lawyers sat, glutted with the spoils. Then, with 
 a victorious smile, as of one who had done a royal 
 duty by her only daughter, she swept to the drawing- 
 room to welcome the guests, who, having gone away 
 unsatisfied at High Noon, were now returning to offer 
 congratulations and to partake of the wedding baked 
 meats. 
 
 At this stage in the wedding function I brightened 
 up, for the first time, for I knew that now the moment 
 was approaching when I would have my chance of 
 seeing her! What was the Hepworth diamond, 
 however dazzling, compared to a sight of her. 
 
 I use the word seeing, for I did not at that time 
 have a speaking acquaintance with the Honorable 
 Florentine Hadley. Perhaps I had not even coveted 
 one, for I was in that frame of mind when had I 
 been presented to her by some grace of God or good 
 will of man I might have stood in front of her mute ; 
 not dead, but very speechless. For I was suffering 
 not only from Love at First Sight, but from the 
 paralysis of the faculties that goes with it. 
 
 As I stood, there watching those over-dressed, over- 
 fed, over-rich persons banal all! come and go, I 
 forgot the diamond and I became conscious of a Pres- 
 ence and then of a Voice. It was just back of my 
 
 20
 
 / PLAY THE DETECTIVE 
 
 shoulder. And that it was the voice of her for whom 
 I had been waiting all the evening I knew without 
 turning my head. But though living all this day for 
 this moment, anticipating it, praying and hoping for 
 it, I was scarcely prepared for the words she spoke: 
 
 "Please introduce him, Charley; I specially wish to 
 know him." 
 
 Charley's reply, uttered in the chesty raspiness of 
 a much moneyed and over indulged man of forty, flab- 
 bergasted me. 
 
 "But it is out of the question, Florentine. He is 
 as poor as a hack-horse ; poorer than a church mouse ; 
 and besides " 
 
 "Besides what?" 
 
 "He's here as a hired man. He is a detective em- 
 ployed to watch the million pounds in wedding pres- 
 ents, and the Hepworth diamond, Lady Kensington's 
 present to the bride. She told me so just now. She 
 said she hired him to stand right there all the evening 
 and guard it. I'll venture though, she is paying the 
 poor devil little enough besides his supper, at that." 
 
 Confound Lady Kensington! To take advantage 
 of me in that way in order to impress the evil but 
 opulent Sir Charles with an idea of her wealth ! And 
 confound my accommodating disposition for bringing 
 me here. But I had learned one thing: namely, that 
 the man with her was her cousin, Sir Charles Hadley, 
 "Sepoy Hadley" I had heard him called when I was 
 introduced to him. And that cousin or no cousin he 
 had a reputation for doing the most unscrupulous 
 things in the financial world of any in England. 
 
 The rasping voice of Sir Charles went on: 
 
 21
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "He's one of those fellows who would knock you 
 down with a bludgeon, or throttle you, or or commit 
 hari-kari, or whatever else you want him to do if 
 if you pay him enough money for it, don't you 
 know !" 
 
 "Tell me some more!" came breathlessly from the 
 girl. 
 
 Despite the thud made by my heart, as it settled in 
 my pumps, I could catch every cadence of her voice, 
 and it vaguely seemed to me that she was not as 
 shocked as I supposed she would be. 
 
 "More," growled Sir Charles. "Why, for a guinea 
 he'd squeeze the neck of anybody at this wedding. He 
 is one of the bloodiest men in his profession. But 
 he's so hard up he's more to be pitied than blamed, 
 I suppose," he added magnanimously. 
 
 I pinched my fingers to still the itching in them. 
 As I thought of the neck of Sir Charles, it would not 
 have cost a guinea ! 
 
 Yet I knew at that crucial time, with those two 
 people standing behind me one the dearest in all the 
 world to me, and the other rapidly becoming the hate- 
 fulest I knew that my ridiculous position at the 
 present moment was all my own fault. I need not 
 have been there as a detective. I had voluntarily fore- 
 ordained myself to be the victim, the lamb, the Isaac 
 now being sacrificed upon the altar of Lady Ken- 
 sington's ambitions and gradually roasted by slow 
 torture without anesthesia, under the very eyes of his 
 lady love. I learned in that painful few seconds that 
 the color of burning fagots is deep blue, zig-zagged 
 with streaks of Lucifer. 
 
 22
 
 I 'PLAY THE DETECTIVE 
 
 "He's nothing but a thug," affirmed Sir Charles. 
 
 But the girl's reply changed the whole color scheme : 
 
 "He doesn't look it," she objected. "But, oh, I 
 hope that it is true ; he will do what I want him to do." 
 
 What she wanted me to do ! 
 
 There was a soft thumping as though she were clap- 
 ping her little gloved hands together, but her voice 
 had a curious note in it ; a stricture of suspense or fear 
 seemed gripping her throat. If I had been a student 
 of psychology I would have said she was a girl grasp- 
 ing at a straw. 
 
 "I wanted to know him before, but now I really 
 must! Introduce him, Charley, and if he is half as 
 desperate as you say he is, I am sure he is just the 
 person I need." 
 
 I listened with a new and surprised emotion. There 
 was a cautious lilt in my heart of which I was half 
 ashamed. 
 
 The significance of her remark escaped Sir Charles 
 or he ignored it. 
 
 "But I tell you, Florentine, the beggar is penniless," 
 remonstrated he. "Why, I'll bet there's a silver watch 
 on the end of his fob this minute." 
 
 I'd like to have taken up that bet. My watch is 
 solid gold and it was willed to me by my grandfather 
 Elliott, who left me half his fortune on condition that 
 I carry his timepiece. I trust I'm not mercenary, but 
 half a million in the United States is worth half a mil- 
 lion anywhere. It is as big as a sauce plate and a little 
 thicker. Moreover, there is so much of the too solid 
 element about it that I cannot carry it on a fob. 
 
 "I don't care if he doesn't carry any watch on his 
 23
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 fob at all," the girl declared prophetically. "He looks 
 as though he would do me a favor, and kind hearts 
 are more than coronets, Sir Charles!" 
 
 "Kind !" sneered Sir Charles, he of the trampled 
 coronet. "He might as well look kind, since it can't 
 lead him into any extravagance, seeing he's got noth- 
 ing to give away. If I were Lady Kensington I 
 wouldn't trust him with a farthing, let alone the Hep- 
 worth." 
 
 The conversation, aside from its personal qualities, 
 was too amazing to be dismissed. Two thoughts were 
 uppermost. Why was Sir Charles Hadley so deter- 
 mined to vilify me? And why should his beautiful 
 cousin so decidedly take my part? 
 
 "For shame, Charley," exclaimed the girl. "I saw 
 him pick up that poor little grey dog, the dog you ran 
 over last week." 
 
 So, it was Sir Charles who had run over a dog and 
 cracked the little wretch's forelegs and left him howl- 
 ing in front of my door. The scamp was able to limp 
 out to-night and lick up my terrapin stew while I was 
 changing ties for the third time. Well, "Grey" won't 
 have to steal his terrapin hereafter; I'll put it on the 
 floor for him. 
 
 "There isn't a tuppence in picking up stray dogs," 
 Sir Charles' snarling voice went on. "But since you're 
 bound to know him I'll indulge your taste for low 
 companions this time. There's American blood in 
 you on your mother's side, surely. I'll introduce him ; 
 but remember what I say there's nothing good ever 
 comes of knowing penniless persons." 
 
 24
 
 / PLAY THE DETECTIVE 
 
 "Is he poorer than I am?" asked the girl with a 
 hard note in her voice. 
 
 "You are supposed to be an heiress," sneered Sir 
 Charles, "and you might roll in money if " 
 
 "There's no need of talking about it," interrupted 
 she, "I've told you " 
 
 "But it isn't a matter of choice with you, it is neces- 
 sity. You are in a desperate position," argued he in 
 a tone that must have gone through her like a coarse 
 saw. "It is family pride, honor your honor and mine 
 and it's money." 
 
 "Don't," cried the Honorable Florentine in a voice 
 so pitiful that it would have melted any human heart 
 except that of Sepoy Hadley. 
 
 "Come," she added, changing the subject with a 
 self-control that was admirable, "you promised to pre- 
 sent him." 
 
 "Oh," sneered the Baronet. "He can't help you 
 unless," he added as a malicious after thought, "un- 
 less you can get him to steal the Hepworth for you 
 you're good at driving men desperate." 
 
 "You are too cruel unjust " 
 
 "It will be taken before the night is over; no big 
 wedding ever passed off safely with a diamond like 
 that lying there in easy reach. Somebody's going to 
 steal it and it might as well be " 
 
 "I have always suspected you of being a devil 
 now I can believe it " 
 
 The voice was restrained, but there was a bitter- 
 ness in it that spoke even more than the words. 
 
 Sir Charles laughed cackled would be a better 
 word. 
 
 25
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "Somebody else would get the credit for it and, after 
 awhile, you could break it up and sell it, or you could 
 re-cut it into a pear 
 
 "Stop," wailed the girl, "or you will drive me " 
 
 "Then why don't you hurry up and do " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "The thing you've got to do and you've got to do 
 it soon before to-morrow night." 
 
 His tone had sunk to a hiss; I'd read of the human 
 hiss but never did I hear it before. 
 
 Her speech was very low but there was a new a 
 half-frightened reverberation as she answered: 
 
 "I'll do it I promise." 
 
 "I believe you're lying!" 
 
 "Take care!" 
 
 The girl's voice had a threatening cry. 
 
 "If you don't I wash my hands of you," uttered Sir 
 Charles thickly. "And to-morrow all London will ring 
 with a sensational account of the Honorable Miss 
 Hadley " 
 
 They had moved out of ear-shot. 
 
 Ethically I ought to have been ashamed of having 
 listened; in reality I knew that I could not have torn 
 myself out of range of hearing if I had gripped a 
 whirring world. I was held there motionless by a 
 magnetic current of incalculable power and I could not 
 have moved. The woman and I were coming into 
 the same psychic zone and our lives were drawing to- 
 gether with the certainty of an inexorable fate. I had 
 to hear. 
 
 The rustle of her gown died away behind me and I 
 knew it wouldn't take more than one full minute for 
 
 26
 
 / PLAY THE DETECTIVE 
 
 them to cross the room, turn, come back, and stand in 
 front of me. I closed my eyes and counted. I knew 
 they had started and I didn't need a curved lens to 
 tell me just where they were; nor did I need eyes to 
 show me how -she would look. I knew that there was 
 approaching me the handsomest girl in the whole 
 world. This is a conservative estimate as I haven't 
 visited Mars; and I had learned from Lady Hensing- 
 ton that she was the richest and most elegant young 
 woman in England. 
 
 I remembered dizzily now to have heard something 
 ugly concerning her fortune, but this was no time to 
 think of that. The supreme fact was that there was 
 coming toward me making a bee line for me the 
 young woman with whom I was madly in love the 
 girl for whom I believed I had been preserved ever 
 since I was born. 
 
 I did not know then that she was the girl destined 
 to bring pride and joy into my life; pain and misun- 
 derstanding; tragedy and passion, and all the other 
 things that transport us from Heaven to earth and 
 back to Heaven again. 
 
 I only realized that as my eyes opened again my 
 gaze was on the big diamond with a fortune chiseled 
 into its faceted depths; but my heart had left me 
 for the beautiful woman who wanted to know me 
 so that she could ask a favor of me. 
 
 I might have been a fool, but a man isn't a man 
 until he has a fool's diploma.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE HEPWORTH DIAMOND 
 
 1 CLOSED my eyes again and listened. The rust- 
 ling silver gown was very near and I caught the 
 lily perfume which I always associated with 
 her. Do angels carry harps or is it lilies ? The genial 
 voice of Sir Charles made me open my eyes. 
 
 "Ah, asleep at your post?" 
 
 "No o," I stammered, blinking and trying to keep 
 my eyes in hand so to speak. "I'm awake, wide 
 awake." 
 
 "Well, you don't look it," replied the cheery one, 
 "and for a penny I'd wager that you were snoozing. 
 Come, shake yourself. I want to introduce you to 
 my cousin, the Honorable Florentine Hadley, Mr. er 
 what's your name?" 
 
 "Elliott, Roman Elliott," I said, holding out my 
 hand to him merely so that I could have an excuse for 
 passing it along to her. 
 
 He shook it with his left hand. He had to ! 
 
 "Elliott ! Oh, yes, to be sure. I ought to have re- 
 membered. I had an old skate once, named Elliott. 
 Wasn't worth a farthing; laid down every fifteen 
 minutes. But I held on to him and sold him after a 
 while for a pound." 
 
 The ill-featured rascal fairly beamed on me at the 
 pleasant recollection before he performed the intro- 
 duction : 
 
 28
 
 THE HEPWORTH DIAMOND 
 
 "Florentine, this is Mr. Elliott of nowhere, I 
 guess. It's cheapest living there; you asked me to 
 introduce him." 
 
 I bowed, but did not lift my eyes to Florentine's 
 face. 
 
 Sir Charles turned away and I saw him looking at 
 the wedding presents. He stood very close, and if I 
 had been of a suspicious nature I would have said that 
 he was in front of them a remarkably long time. I 
 thought of it afterwards so often. 
 
 Sir Charles, having inspected the gifts, turned 
 abruptly to Florentine, "Well, I'll leave you to talk to 
 him. Don't let him borrow anything of you. Good- 
 bye ; and here's your fan, Florentine." 
 
 So this was Sir Charles Hadley, the English baronet 
 of whose eccentricities I had heard ! And it was in 
 this fashion and after this manner partly in asides 
 and partly in coarse jest he had introduced me to 
 his cousin. The whole thing savored of the grotesque ! 
 
 He made an odd bow as if to move away. But, as 
 he handed her the fan, I saw his hand. / saw his 
 hand! He had unwrapped it for an instant and, as 
 he caught my eyes fixed upon it, his face flared up as 
 with a purple douche. But I had seen it. 
 
 He moved again to the jewels; I knew he was in 
 front of the Hep worth diamond, for its fire flashed 
 away from me for an instant; at the same time he fud- 
 dled the wrapping of his hand. It was an odd man- 
 oeuvre, for he turned to me hastily to know if I had 
 seen him; my eyes were upon him, and, if he could 
 have stabbed me with a look, I would have fallen 
 pierced to the heart. His purple deepened to conges- 
 
 29
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 tion ; he made another move toward the Hepworth, 
 then stopped as though arrested by my eye. He had 
 intended to examine the diamond again, but changed 
 his purpose. 
 
 "I will see you downstairs," he muttered to her. 
 
 And so he introduced us and left us, the Honorable 
 Florentine embarrassed almost to the point of tears! 
 And I, distressed ; not at the wretch's rudeness, but 
 that she should be so distressed ! 
 
 She recovered herself first as is the way of women 
 in embarrassing situations. 
 
 "I asked my cousin to introduce you," she apolo- 
 gized. "But I didn't suppose he would be so ungen- 
 
 tlemanly so rude as " In the next breath the 
 
 dear girl began to excuse him: "He has been away 
 from England so long among the Sepoys and else- 
 where that he is so so so " 
 
 "So delightfully considerate as to betake himself 
 away!" I broke in. 
 
 At this she laughed and I laughed, too. If she had 
 cried; if she had cried! The laugh broke the ice as 
 laughs will. My cousin Irene and I once laughed so 
 hard, skating the double grapevine twist, that we both 
 went through the ice on her mother's artificial lake. 
 I stood on the deck of a toy boat that had capsized 
 during the summer and pulled Irene out. 
 
 If the Lady Florentine were to fall into any trou- 
 ble of any kind, what would I not do to get her back ! 
 But that was a look ahead ; at present I was in a kind 
 of bliss that fairly cloyed my senses with its sweet- 
 ness. 
 
 30
 
 THE HEPWORTH DIAMOND 
 
 "I asked Cousin Charles to introduce you because 
 because I wanted to speak to you." 
 
 "A very clever way to bring it about," I agreed de- 
 lightedly. 
 
 "I mean about something special. Could you do 
 you think you could spare the time to talk to me a 
 little while ?" 
 
 Could I spare the what? Hadn't I been sparing 
 fourteen hours out of my waking sixteen for the last 
 ten days to talk to her in my imagination? And 
 wasn't I dreaming of her the whole eight hours of my 
 sleeping night? Could I spare the time to talk to her 
 about something special? Well, I guess, yes! as we 
 used to say at Cambridge. 
 
 Her next speech acquitted the question of its 
 idiocy. Could I spare the time! 
 
 "I didn't suppose Lady Kensington would allow 
 you to leave just now on account of the diamond." 
 
 "It is of no account," I replied boldly. I glanced 
 at the Hepworth as I spoke; there it reposed in its 
 blue velvet nest, sending forth whole planets of light. 
 
 "You cannot leave now," she went on, "and I must 
 wait." 
 
 "No, no," I said hastily, for I knew in my heart that 
 it would have taken several Lady Kensingtons to de- 
 tain me. "I I'll ask her," faltered I, with a spiteful 
 glance at the Hepworth. 
 
 "I wouldn't want you to lose your position for me," 
 said the Honorable Florentine. 
 
 "I wouldn't want to; it wouldn't be right for me," 
 lied I. "But if you'll excuse me a moment I think I 
 can arrange matters with Lady Kensington." 
 
 31
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "What about the wedding presents?" asked she as 
 her beautiful eyes rested upon a turquoise set that 
 just matched them in color, "and the Hepworth dia- 
 mond ?" 
 
 I had already half forgotten the stupid things and 
 refused to look at them again. There they were 
 ranged in triple rows on three shelves with a triple 
 display of incandescents glowing malignantly down 
 upon them. 
 
 "I think they are safe," I said ; "I am sure that light 
 is brilliant enough to X-ray the brain of any one who 
 thought of taking them." 
 
 "Oh, please please don't leave them alone," 
 begged the Honorable Florentine. "What would you 
 do if anything should happen to them? And we have 
 all heard so much about them. They are the talk of 
 London." 
 
 "Buy something a thousand times as fine," was on 
 the tip of my foolish tongue. "I'll go and get a nurse- 
 maid to take care of them," I muttered savagely be- 
 tween my teeth. I looked at her for approval, but her 
 thoughts were away and she didn't hear me. Then, 
 in my best voice I said: "They will be safe until I 
 can send some one to take my place." 
 
 In her big jeweled eyes there came a glad light, 
 bright enough to lighten the spot in my heart made 
 gloomy by the thought that I was deceiving her, and 
 she smiled. Truly all is fair in love and poverty, I 
 reflected; and as for diamonds, who could think of 
 them with those bright eyes shining so near. 
 
 "Then ask Lady Kensington's permission to accom- 
 pany me a little way in my carriage here she is and 
 
 32
 
 THE HEPWORTH DIAMOND 
 
 I may want you to go perhaps a considerable dis- 
 tance ; please ask her now !" 
 
 I followed the direction of Florentine's eyes. Sure 
 enough, there was Lady Kensington. Impelled by 
 the delight of having so much wealth to display she 
 had left the drawing-room and had come to enjoy the 
 jewels. 
 
 "She is with my cousin, Sir Charles," observed the 
 Honorable Miss Hadley, in some surprise, shrinking 
 back a little as she spoke. 
 
 I looked again and truly there by Lady Kensing- 
 ton's side was Sir Charles Hadley. Lady Kensington 
 was talking volubly and Sir Charles was listening with 
 what was intended to be polite attention. 
 
 "This," said Lady Kensington, picking up the blue 
 velvet box, "is the Hepworth!" She held it for an 
 instant with the pride of a woman who has half a 
 million in the hollow of her hand; and then she held 
 it out to Sir Charles. 
 
 In some way, passing from hand to hand, the box 
 slipped and fell. Lady Kensington cried out in dis- 
 may, but Sir Charles picked it up and restored it. 
 
 "Very unwise of you, Lady Kensington," I heard 
 him say, and then they passed on. An instant later 
 Sir Charles came back apparently at Lady Kensing- 
 ton's request and rearranged the diamond. It took 
 him a long time and again he fuddled the linen ban- 
 dage on his hand. He lifted the velvet box, turned it. 
 laid the diamond this way and that; and more than 
 once stepped back to inspect it; Lady Kensington 
 from the distant doorway watched him approvingly. 
 At length the diamond was placed in its velvet bed. 
 
 33
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 The Honorable Miss Hadley and I, half sheltered 
 behind a palm, were interested spectators of it all; as 
 Sir Charles bent there over the diamond her hands 
 went shut in a grip which tightened to a clinch; as 
 he lingered her fingers closed upon her fan, and rib 
 by rib, its delicate frame work snapped in her agon- 
 ized grasp. 
 
 "There he is gone," I uttered; for, stranger 
 though I was, it was useless to pretend that I did not 
 notice her agitation. 
 
 "You will find me in the carriage," she whispered 
 furtively, "my chaperon was taken ill and went home, 
 so I am alone. Wait in the vestibule. When my num- 
 ber is called, go down and get it. You will find me 
 there looking for you. And if you can Air. Elliott 
 please keep Sir Charles from seeing us go away to- 
 gether." 
 
 For reply I squeezed her hand gently. Perhaps 
 I added a little emphasis to the finger squeeze be- 
 cause I knew Sir Charles couldn't, with his hand! 
 
 She melted away upstairs in search of her wraps 
 and I stood watching until the last fold of her silver 
 train had swept out of sight. 
 
 I took a farewell look at the Hepworth; it was 
 there, sauceresque in its myriad cuttings each 
 lighted facet reflecting and magnifying its size a thou- 
 sand fold. But, by some freak of fancy, or trick of 
 the imagination, it seemed less beautiful to me. No 
 longer did it lie proudly on top of its velvet bed, its 
 outlines more suggested than concealed by the caress- 
 ing folds; but rather it looked as though it had 
 snuggled underneath its covering, and, like an indis- 
 
 34
 
 THE HEP WORTH DIAMOND 
 
 posed beauty, sick of the glare, had crept to repose 
 with its drapery drawn tightly around it. 
 
 The Hepworth was certainly half hidden in the 
 velvet. I stepped over to lift it and lay it on top 
 when I remembered my orders that on no account 
 was I to touch it. To think that it lay dull and sulky 
 in its box was, of course, a freak of my vision. 
 
 What I did was to go to the front door and tell 
 the Scotland Yard man to go in and watch the wed- 
 ding presents. I might have been a chump and prob- 
 ably was but I didn't mention the Hepworth to him 
 for fear of aweing him. Then I called up a relief man 
 to take his place at the door. He was glad to change 
 places with me, though I was sorry enough afterwards 
 that I had not left the old man at the post. 
 
 My next job was to look up Sir Charles. I did not 
 have far to search for he stood right at the door, ap- 
 parently watching for some one to depart, and on his 
 roughened, furrowed face there was a look, partly of 
 brutality and partly of anxiety. 
 
 I had a chance to observe his right hand, which was 
 done up in a silk handkerchief, heavily embroidered 
 and monogrammed in some strange Indian work ; and, 
 as my gaze wandered back to his face, I thought that 
 never had I seen a skin so fissured by life in the 
 tropics nor an expression so rent by evil emotions. I 
 despised him, yet I must play a part; and the part 
 now was to get him away from the front door. For- 
 getting my temporary position there as a menial, I 
 touched him genially on the shoulder. 
 
 "Come, Sir Charles!" I exclaimed, "and have a 
 
 cigar with me; there are matters " 
 
 35
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "I'm not smoking," he interrupted. 
 
 "Then let me show you the diamonds ; you're inter- 
 ested in stones, Lady Kensington tells me; and there 
 are gems there worth their thousands." 
 
 Sir Charles gave me a startled side glance. Did he 
 guess that I was talking against hope to get him away 
 from the front door? 
 
 "There's one stone there, the Hepworth I'd like to 
 have you see it again. It's the most valuable gem in 
 London ; why, if it were stolen, all Scotland Yard " 
 
 "Scotland Yard!" he cried, throwing my hand off 
 his shoulder. "What for God's sake do you mean? 
 I'll go with you," he finally uttered thickly; "I'll go, 
 but it is there ; you can see it for yourself " 
 
 Scarcely conscious of our steps we wended our 
 way back to the little reception room where the Hep- 
 worth lay, queen of its brilliant circle. 
 
 "Look!" he ejaculated. 
 
 "What is the matter with it?" I exclaimed. "The 
 lights are playing a trick upon it." 
 
 I looked wonderingly, for it seemed to me it sent 
 forth no flash. Like a court beauty that has been 
 the pet of kings, it languished all dull and disdainful 
 in the presence of doubting mortals; and though I 
 looked at it again, I could catch no answering gleam; 
 it was as lifeless as though it were a thing from 
 which the spark has fled. 
 
 "I must be blind," I confessed. "But why are you 
 so agitated?" 
 
 Sir Charles was mopping his face and studying me 
 intently. He seemed to see his mistake, for he recov- 
 
 36
 
 THE HEP WORTH DIAMOND 
 
 ered his self-possession with a rapidity that was mar- 
 velous. 
 
 The Scotland Yard man whom I had put at the 
 post, stood guard in front of the jeweled display. 
 
 "He's in your place, I see," observed Sir Charles, 
 now almost fully restored. 
 
 "Yes, I have another matter of more importance," 
 I foolishly said. 
 
 Sir Charles lifted his shoulders. 
 
 A girl in a gold colored gown flitted past us, be- 
 stowing a telling glance upon the baronet. His eyes 
 followed her; he lost his look of apprehension, for he 
 was mere man after all, and a grin spread over his 
 cardinal features; the girl passed on alone into the 
 conservatory, sending a glance back at us out of the 
 tail of her eye. Sir Charles saw, and it was evident 
 that the eternal feminine interested him; but there 
 was something else in his system to be digested first. 
 I am no coward, but, as he leered at me, I almost 
 wished that he did not hate me; it was a look as of 
 the Devil ; and I felt as powerless to fathom the depths 
 of its evil as though I had gazed at Mephisto, him- 
 self. 
 
 "Where did you leave Florentine?" he asked with 
 a chuckle out of which the fear had partly gone. "I 
 hope she didn't find out that you're the richest 
 American in London to-night." 
 
 I ground my teeth at his nerve. 
 
 "Then you knew that I wasn't paid by the hour to 
 watch those damned wedding presents?" 
 
 The grin deepened to a leer. "Yes, I knew. Lady 
 Kensington told me; and she said you had cautioned 
 
 37
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 her against the thousand pound investment which she 
 was to have put into my Sepoys to-day." 
 
 Well, he had tried to get even with me ; yet, as far 
 as I knew, he had been playing right into my hand, 
 and ignorance is temporary bliss. 
 
 "Where's Florentine?" he repeated. 
 
 "Dancing," I replied as the distant strains of waltz 
 music came drifting into the reception room. 
 
 "Then I suppose I might as well go and look up 
 the little heiress that's waiting for me, in the conser- 
 vatory. Tell me," whispered Sir Charles, getting so 
 close to me that the temptation to run my fist down 
 his throat was almost overpowering, "Did you see that 
 little girl all dressed in a gold colored frock a little 
 bit low here eh lower than Florentine's gown 
 even and eh ?" 
 
 He was, I saw at once, a man for whom there are 
 but two things in the world, love and money any 
 kind of love and any kind of money. 
 
 I heard the rustle of Florentine's shimmering sil- 
 ver frock upon the stairs or there's no telling what 
 might have happened to Sir Charles. As it was, I 
 saw her on the landing half hidden by a palm, where 
 she waited, until she saw me lead, or pull Sir Charles 
 away. I saw him headed for the conservatory to 
 search for the girl in the gold colored frock, then I 
 glanced up at Florentine; she gave me a long sweet 
 look of approval and I walked through the hall and 
 out into the vestibule to wait for her. 
 
 Was I doing right in leaving my post? 
 
 I was not. I confess it openly. But I hope for kind- 
 ness, even as I would extend it to a man in my posi- 
 
 38
 
 THE HEPWORTH DIAMOND 
 
 tion. I was in love; the girl was in distress perse- 
 cuted, perhaps; and she had appealed to me! 
 
 I had come to the wedding of my client as a lawyer ; 
 she had suddenly asked me to turn detective; I had 
 only partially consented. 
 
 I do not always say of myself that I have done 
 those things I ought not to have done; and have left 
 undone those things I ought to have done ! No man 
 can make habitually such an accusation against him- 
 self with sincerity. 
 
 But on this occasion I did leave undone the thing I 
 ought to have done ! I did not stay to watch the dia- 
 mond. 
 
 But if retribution follows such acts as mine, then 
 I must lay to retributive justice the hours that fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Back in the States there was my Cousin Irene with 
 whom I had once considered myself much in love; 
 Irene, strict, uncompromising, exact; Irene who, on 
 account of duty to ideals, would not marry. And 
 there was Uncle Jason, bluff, kind-hearted and true, 
 who never slighted a task. 
 
 But here, before me, was this bright, beautiful girl 
 beckoning, and, with only a slight qualm of conscience, 
 I deserted my place and followed her. 
 
 39
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 TO-MORROW NIGHT AT NINE 
 
 I SHIVERED in the vestibule, for the draught 
 sent the rain in. Yet I was warm, for I was 
 waiting for my lady. 
 
 All thoughts of the wedding presents had vanished, 
 and with the vanishing of thoughts went the last ves- 
 tige of responsibility. I don't attempt to excuse it, 
 for I was a man in love, trusting, happy and confi- 
 dent. She was a stranger to me, but Cupid leaps the 
 bars of time. 
 
 The Hepworth was now as far away from me as 
 gems I might have worn in a previous existence; if 
 any flash of it came back, it bore the crimson hue of 
 rebellion. Lady Kensington had placed me there 
 without warning ; I had told her I didn't know a dia- 
 mond from a charcoal ; and, then, had come the Girl 
 into my life! With me it had been the Lady or the 
 Diamond ; and I gladly broke my tryst with the gem 
 to keep it with the girl. It was the gleam of a dia- 
 mond versus the glory of a girl's smile ; and the girl's 
 smile \von. 
 
 But why did she not come? The door opened again. 
 Ah, it was she at last. She tripped down the steps. 
 for her number had been called and the footman was 
 putting her in. The carriage moved leisurely along 
 and I had tjme to slip down and overtake it. The 
 
 40
 
 TO-MORROW NIGHT AT NINE 
 
 horses were walking, for the street was jammed with 
 vehicles; so without halting the driver, I opened the 
 carriage door and stepped in. 
 
 If miracles had not gone out of fashion I should 
 say that one had happened and to me. I seated my- 
 self beside her; and she pulled aside her satin cloak to 
 give me room. 
 
 "Drive to Lady Faith's," was the order she had 
 given the footman, as he closed the door. "Aunt 
 Faith lives a long distance away, quite the other end 
 of London. But I thought it would give us all the 
 better opportunity to talk," she explained, when we 
 had cleared the crowd. 
 
 She settled herself as she spoke, in her corner of 
 the brougham, while I tried to turn so that I could 
 see her. It seemed so marvelous that I should be sit- 
 ting so close to her that again I had the utmost diffi- 
 culty in believing myself awake. The night had turned 
 cool in the late London twilight and there was a soft 
 English drizzle falling. I lifted the linen robe and 
 tucked it around her. 
 
 "Oh, I shall not need it," she laughed. "I came pre- 
 pared for a drive. I have my cloak, as you see, and, 
 for fear it would be chilly, I brought this little fur 
 wrap and a feather boa." 
 
 She threw the fur cape around her shoulders as she 
 spoke and her head bent so near to mine that she 
 almost touched me. For the first time I had a chance 
 to observe her closely. 
 
 I had seen many picture women in my life but none 
 that approached the Honorable Florentine Hadley in 
 any way, for her beauty was of the style that is clas- 
 
 41
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 sic without severity. She had the sweet expression 
 of the Venus de Milo; and, with her arms lost in her 
 cape, she was just as graceful. Like the Queen of 
 Sheba, she could stand the test of much adorning; 
 yet to my infatuated eyes she looked best as the arm- 
 less Milo, appealing to you in a lovely, helpless pathos. 
 
 Few women, outside the marbles of the Louvre, 
 would have dared to wear their hair plainly parted and 
 smoothly rolled at the sides. Fewer still would have 
 ventured on a simple loose twist at the back of the 
 neck ; a silver coil of hair without comb or ornament. 
 Her loveliness was of the fair artistic type with not 
 a flaw to mar it from her perfect forehead to her fault- 
 lessly curved chin. Many times during my brief stay 
 in London I had heard her described as the reigning 
 beauty and I had seen her portrait at all the exhibi- 
 tions. But I had to confess that the best of them did 
 her scant justice. She was ideal even at close range. 
 
 I was so busily engaged studying her face that I 
 had not noticed that she in turn was studying mine. 
 
 "I was not mistaken," she said with a sigh of re- 
 lief, after a long searching look. "I kneV I would 
 find you all I wanted you to be. And, now, that we 
 have stared at each other long enough, we can begin 
 our conversation." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," I hastened to say. 
 
 "And I beg yours," she returned with a smile. 
 "Now we are even. But I wanted to know you 
 well ; and I am glad you stared at me because I want 
 you to know me. It will be easier for me, knowing 
 your position and that I can pay you if you had 
 
 42
 
 TO-MORROW NIGHT AT NINE 
 
 been rich I should not have dared to do what I am 
 going to do!" 
 
 I made no reply to this; but if the Honorable Miss 
 Florentine thought that she was going to pay me for 
 my services she was mistaken. I wanted to assure her 
 of this but prudence prompted me to wait. As for 
 the rest of it well, never mind I had my surprise 
 coming ! 
 
 I looked at her. She returned my gaze with a slow, 
 lovely smile which the carriage lamps threw toward 
 me like sunshine coming out of shadow. Yet for 
 some reason she hesitated to speak. 
 
 "I hardly know how to begin," said she, "I wish 
 I could think of a proper way to say what I want to 
 say to you." 
 
 "Begin any way," I said, "and I shall understand." 
 
 "I hope so," she begged anxiously. "But if I could 
 only be sure of it, perfectly sure." 
 
 "You can be positive," I declared; and I wanted to 
 add that I could tell her that which would make it 
 seem more sure, that I thought I loved her well 
 enough to understand her now and always, but again 
 prudence cautioned me to keep quiet. 
 
 She stirred her cloak and the bruised lilies threw a 
 perfume across her face. 
 
 "If I could only be certain of it," she began again. 
 
 Her cheeks flushed so painfully that I felt some 
 assurance on my part was necessary. "Suppose you 
 begin," I suggested ; "and before you have gone very 
 far I may be able to convince you that I do under- 
 stand and sympathize, no matter what it is you have 
 to say." 
 
 43
 
 I glanced once more at her face. We were sitting 
 side by side in a closed carriage into which the light 
 merely sifted at best; but even in the dark I could 
 have said that she was losing color ; her cheeks looked 
 as pale as the lilies that peeped from out her cloak. 
 My soul ached for her but I knew she must proceed in 
 her own way. That is the advantage of being thirty- 
 three and experienced. If I were only twenty 
 
 "How old do you think I am?" she asked, interrupt- 
 ing my thought. 
 
 "I was just saying to myself that you might be 
 twenty " 
 
 "I am twenty-one. That is I shall be twenty-one 
 to-morrow. To-morrow night at nine o'clock!" 
 
 "Nine o'clock?" I exclaimed as though that were 
 the important part of the communication. 
 
 "Yes!" And here Lady Florentine hesitated. "And 
 that is just what I brought you out here to talk 
 about." 
 
 "I'll talk about it until to-morrow night at nine," I 
 said promptly. 
 
 Fortunately for me, perhaps, her lovely ladyship did 
 not catch my remark. 
 
 "I wanted to talk to you about it because because 
 because by to-morrow night at nine by to-morrow 
 night at nine " 
 
 She stopped short. 
 
 "You were saying that by to-morrow night at 
 nine?" I repeated, questioningly. 
 
 "By to-morrow night at nine, I've I've got to be 
 married !" 
 
 She turned in the brougham and looked me full in 
 44
 
 TO-MORROW NIGHT AT NINE 
 
 the face. Over the top of her silver fox cape her 
 eyes shone like blue stars. "I'm going to be married 
 by to-morrow night at nine." 
 
 I had lived some time before, and I've lived some 
 time since, but I am free to confess that never in all 
 my life have I suffered such a moment of utter col- 
 lapse. So it was for this that she wanted me, to tell 
 me that she was going to be married. Perhaps she had 
 brought me to consult about the settlements. Or 
 sudden and horrid thought to ask me to stand guard 
 as detective over her wedding presents. If she should 
 ask me to be a detective at her wedding if she 
 should ! 
 
 "You don't say anything," she faltered. "I thought 
 you'd try to help me a little, to make it easier for me." 
 
 A tear shone in her eyes and, in good Harvard lan- 
 guage, it broke me all up. I leaned toward her; if 
 I had dared I would have put my arm around her. 
 
 "Do let me help you," I exclaimed. "Only tell me 
 how I can help you!" 
 
 She wiped the tear away. Gladly would I have 
 done it for her. I choked a little and the atmosphere 
 of the brougham grew unaccountably warm. 
 
 "Oh t-thank you," she sobbed, the tears of relief 
 bubbling up, "I am so much obliged to you. I was 
 not sure you would do it." 
 
 "Do what?" I asked gently. 
 
 "W-why, marry me!" 
 
 Would I marry her! Again, for the second time 
 that night my spirits dropped. So she thought I could 
 marry her. My reply was prompt and sharp. 
 
 "I am not a Justice of the Peace or whatever you 
 45
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 call it in this country, nor a clergyman, nor anything 
 of that kind. I can't marry you, my dear Honorable 
 Miss Hadley." 
 
 She laughed. In spite of her agitation the little 
 darling had the temerity to laugh. 
 
 "I didn't mean to marry me to to someone else! 
 I meant to to marry me to to you !" She stumbled 
 so horribly that she had to stop, but her meaning had 
 at last penetrated the recesses of my stupid brain, 
 stupid to the Nth power. 
 
 "Would you m-marry me to you?" She stopped 
 crying and waited for an answer. 
 
 Would I marry me to her!! 
 
 It was out at last ! 
 
 "Yes!" I exclaimed. "Yes, my my lady, I will." 
 I was about to add "with pleasure," but the whole 
 thing was so beyond belief and beyond expression that 
 it seemed useless to try to explain that I was pleased. 
 
 For years my mother had been quizzing me about 
 getting married. "Wait until the right girl comes 
 along," she had always said, but she ought to have 
 put it, "Wait until the right girl comes along- and 
 proposes to you." Well, the right girl had come. 
 
 "There's something else," she said, "something that 
 may not be so pleasant !"
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS AUNT FAITH 
 
 ' ' TT\ ERHAPS you know how I am situated," she 
 
 r"^ said with a brave apology in her voice. 
 
 -*- "You know about the money, and how I 
 
 must get married by my twenty-first birthday or I 
 
 that is we shall lose it forever." 
 
 I did not know, though I was immensely glad of the 
 fact on any terms, and I told her so. But she wanted 
 to tell me all about it. 
 
 "The story takes me back to my father's marriage," 
 she said. "My mother was an American, a Bos- 
 tonian and from her I get my determination." 
 
 She smiled a faint little smile and I saw that she 
 knew Boston. 
 
 "My father, a titled Englishman, as they say over 
 there, went across and married her. She was wealthy, 
 but most of her money died with her; I never exactly 
 understood. My mother was not very happy with 
 him and she took me over to America to live with her 
 there for three years before her death. That is why 
 I seem more American than English, though I was 
 only fourteen when she died ; they died in the same 
 year. Even when I came back I had an American 
 governess for a while. When my mother was gone 
 there wasn't as much money as was supposed I know 
 I am talking very incoherently." 
 
 47
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 She threw back the silver fox from her throat and 
 I saw that the story was not easy for her to tell. 
 
 "Never mind it," I said soothingly; "some other 
 time " 
 
 "No, I must tell it now," she persisted with a de- 
 termined lift of the perfect little profile. 
 
 "My mother had many American relatives, and 
 among the rest was a miner, in Helena, Montana. He 
 died just after my mother and in his will he left me his 
 fortune. But there was one proviso, which was that I 
 must get married by the time I am twenty-one. He 
 was a hard man, this Helena cousin ; I have heard my 
 mother tell of him. Early in his life he had a love 
 affair which ended disastrously; and, afterwards, out 
 of pure spite, he forced marriages upon people. He 
 owned an immense ranch on which he employed many 
 people, yet he would never have an unmarried person 
 upon his place. Those who were not married when 
 they came must find a mate immediately. He did it 
 to make them unhappy, he said." 
 
 "A rather original way to go about it." 
 
 "He said he loved to tie two people together and 
 watch them grow to hate each other." 
 
 "We will fool his memory!" I said promptly. 
 
 The girl heard me and a full realization of the situ- 
 ation, as I understood it, flashed upon her. 
 
 "I don't think you quite comprehend," she ex- 
 plained gently. "I must get married to save the for- 
 tune ; not really married as as other people get mar- 
 ried but married in in name only do you under- 
 stand a marriage only in name. There are family 
 reasons why we must not let so much money go away 
 
 48
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS AUNT FAITH 
 
 from us. And, though it is unpleasant for me, I 
 cannot see my way to do otherwise." 
 
 The carriage jolted just then and knocked my hat 
 a trifle sideways, but I let it rest just where it had 
 fallen over one ear. 
 
 "I have a choice of suitors," pursued Florentine. 
 "What girl in English society has not ? and it is pos- 
 sible that I have more than my share. But, sifted 
 down, I have really only one, only one compelling 
 one." 
 
 "And he is?" 
 
 "My cousin, Sir Charles Hadley he whom you met 
 to-night. For reasons, too involved to explain, I must 
 marry my cousin, Sir Charles, by this time to-morrow 
 night unless " 
 
 "Unless?" I repeated questioningly. 
 
 "Unless I am already married to some one else." 
 
 Marry Sir Charles ! Marry that monstrosity in hu- 
 man form; he of the purple complexion; the rasping 
 voice and the hand. Impossible! Yet, from what I 
 now recalled in look and gesture, Sir Charles was wait- 
 ing to grasp her. As well hand a lily to a hyena ! 
 
 "You shall be already married," I assured her. "And 
 for fear something may happen I am going to sug- 
 gest that we slip away immediately and have the cere- 
 mony performed." 
 
 I spoke decisively, for the gravity of the situation 
 now dawned upon me. I knew Sir Charles, and I had 
 had a hint of his unscrupulousness ; so to save this 
 girl from his clutches was now my duty, the first 
 duty of any man in my position, regardless even of 
 his own feelings; for the girl next to me, aside from 
 
 49
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 being the woman I loved, was helpless and in a plight, 
 a bad situation from which she must now be rescued 
 at any hazard. But as yet I could see no hazard; it 
 was quite simple; we could drive somewhere and be 
 married. 
 
 The girl had thought out a better plan. 
 "We are on our way to the house of Lady Faith 
 Hadley, my aunt," she said. "She will let us be mar- 
 ried there, I hope." 
 
 "I don't see any reason why she should not." 
 
 The situation was an unusual and a trying one, but 
 the girl smiled bravely. 
 
 "You don't know Aunt Faith." 
 
 "But I shall soon know her since we are on the way 
 to her house and Jehu is going rather rapidly." 
 
 "But you may not find her so likeable when you 
 come to meet her." 
 
 "What is the matter with Aunt Faith ?" I asked, get- 
 ting back some of the confidence which is the birth- 
 right of every son of Columbia. 
 
 "Oh, she's all right," said the girl, unconsciously as- 
 suming the vernacular, "but a little peculiar as you 
 will see. Years ago, when Aunt Faith was young, she 
 was quite a belle and was famed for her beauty ; she 
 went into society, and King Edward who was then the 
 Prince of Wales admired her and asked to meet her. 
 Aunt Faith was, of course, charmed, and in course of 
 time she gave a dinner for the Prince. He came with 
 his retinue and Aunt Faith was so beside herself with 
 joy that she didn't sleep for a week before or after. 
 At dinner the Prince rallied Aunt Faith on being 
 single and she in her embarrassment tried to think of a 
 
 50
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS AUNT FAITH 
 
 ready reply, but couldn't. The Prince took her hesita- 
 tion for diffidence and was delighted; he praised the 
 dinner, and, on going away, told Aunt Faith that 
 Prince Charming would come some day. Aunt Faith 
 blushed so exquisitely that the Prince of Wales made 
 a prediction: 
 
 " 'Prince Charming will come when you least expect 
 him ; and he will walk in at the dinner hour !' 
 
 "Aunt Faith bowed low ; he would come at the din- 
 ner hour ! It was as though the Almighty had spoken. 
 That was thirty years ago and every night since she 
 has been looking for him." 
 
 "Looking for Prince Charming?" 
 
 "Yes, she has been awaiting the arrival of Prince 
 Charming. Aunt Faith keeps her house in town open 
 for him though the other sisters live at Wentstone 
 Castle; but she keeps up her town establishment of 
 servants and livery, and every night at eight-thirty 
 has the dinner table set for two. It is perfect in every 
 detail, silver, linen, glass, wine and menu and the 
 covers are always laid for just two." 
 
 "Has Prince Charming never arrived?" 
 
 "No, though Aunt Faith makes an elaborate toi- 
 lette for him each night. At promptly twenty min- 
 utes after eight she goes down into the drawing- 
 room and sits, fan in hand, watching the door and 
 waiting for his step. A footman sits in the hall 
 waiting to open it before the bell shall ring. Aunt 
 Faith waits until nine, then she goes into the din- 
 ing-room and eats her solitary meal." 
 
 "What becomes of the other plate?" 
 
 "It remains opposite Aunt Faith, a mute re- 
 Si
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 minder that Prince Charming may come to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 "And the next night?" 
 
 "It is the same thing over again." 
 
 The girl stopped, threw back her head and 
 laughed, showing the most exquisite pearls. The 
 thought of Aunt Faith was enough to make her for- 
 get her own troubles for a minute, and the relief 
 of a laugh was needed. 
 
 "How old is Aunt Faith ?" I asked. 
 
 "Sixty-one years old. She has been waiting, sit- 
 ting opposite the empty plate of the dilatory Prince 
 Charming for nearly thirty years." 
 
 Again Florentine laughed. But this time my face 
 did not relax. It grew solemn instead, for the pros- 
 pect of interviewing Aunt Faith suddenly became 
 fraught with difficulties. 
 
 "Does she expect us?" I inquired. 
 
 "Yes, I sent a messenger to her," said the girl, 
 "and at the same time I dispatched a message to 
 the Rev. Jedediah Pancoast to meet us there. He 
 will be waiting when we arrive." 
 
 Lady Florentine had evidently counted upon me 
 and my heart thrilled at her confidence and her un- 
 conscious use of the word "we." 
 
 "I wish you had 'phoned her to be sure," I ven- 
 tured. 
 
 "Telephoned Aunt Faith !" exclaimed the girl, go- 
 ing off into another little burst of merriment, "that 
 shows that you have not yet grasped the peculiari- 
 ties of Lady Faith Hadley. Never has my aunt 
 had a telephone in her house, nor will she have 
 
 53
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS AUNT FAITH 
 
 one even in the servants' quarters. The Prince of 
 Wales told her years ago that he did not think the 
 telephone would ever be practicable for home use. 
 And to this day Aunt Faith is sure that it is not 
 practicable. She wouldn't try one for a Sepoy 
 mine." 
 
 Aunt Faith was growing more and more formid- 
 able, but in my copybook years before I had writ- 
 ten the words "Faint heart never won Fair Lady," 
 and the line came back to me now. Little did I 
 think, at that time, that the teachings of youth 
 would be of so much support to me in after life. 
 
 There was a lull. It was evident that the car- 
 riage was slackening its pace. Then it stopped with 
 a bump and I found myself looking out and up into 
 the windows of Aunt Faith's mansion. 
 
 "Let me go in and see her first," said Florentine ; 
 "you wait here until I send for you." 
 
 I helped her out of the carriage and up the front 
 steps ; before I could press the button the door flew 
 open. 
 
 "Wait !" she repeated. Then she disappeared in 
 the flash of light and the door shut behind her. 
 
 Often afterwards I pictured that open doorway 
 with Florentine's slim form outlined in it like a 
 brilliant figure standing against a sunset glow. 
 
 Little did 1 know that before I should lay eyes 
 upon her again there would fall upon her life a trag- 
 edy of circumstance that would forever change the 
 coloring of existence for her. 
 
 I stood outside the door and waited, but she did 
 not come. 1 could hear within the suppressed 
 
 53
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 sound of voices, one rising sharp and clear, a young 
 voice, very like Florentine's, yet so agonized that 
 I could not recognize it; the other, older and 
 quieter, but very firm. The sounds grew stiller ; 
 then, above the low murmuring, there rose a shriek, 
 a wailing sob that broke the quietude of the night 
 and died away as abruptly as it had risen. After 
 that I listened breathlessly, almost pressed against 
 the door, but still Florentine did not return. 
 
 A Sphinx-like hush had fallen within; it was as 
 though a presence had passed out. 
 
 54
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 I PLAY PRINCE CHARMING 
 
 AJNT FAITH lived in a small but very ex- 
 clusive residence in a very exclusive neigh- 
 borhood. But the thing that struck me 
 as I looked up at the house was its festive appear- 
 ance, in spite of its deathly stillness. It was illu- 
 minated from top to bottom; from English base- 
 ment windows to the top of the Queen Anne roof 
 the yellow beams twinkled, while from the draw- 
 ing-room windows there fairly shot out comets of 
 light. 
 
 "She was expecting us," I reasoned, "yet she 
 does not open the door." 
 
 As Florentine did not return I had no alternative 
 except to wait, but the shriek, following by retreat- 
 ing footsteps and the sudden, almost deathly, quiet 
 filled me with alarm. 
 
 Suddenly, breaking on the stillness of the night, 
 an upper window flew open and there was a quick 
 order, as though a hurried direction were being 
 given. The coachman who had been standing at 
 the curb, jumped upon the box and cracked his 
 whip, and, before I could call to him, he had gal- 
 loped his horses to the corner and turned quickly 
 out of sight. 
 
 I was alone on the steps, the carriage gone and 
 Florentine was still inside the house. 
 
 55
 
 I could endure the uncertainty no longer, so, at 
 the risk of injuring my cause, I touched the button. 
 
 The instant I did so the front door flew open as 
 though touched by a spring and a bowing footman 
 invited me to enter; as I stepped in, a lackey 
 divested me of hat and coat. 
 
 Involuntarily I gazed about for Florentine. She 
 was nowhere to be seen; she was doubtless in the 
 handsome room from the open door of which came 
 a brilliant light shading to gold in the mirrored 
 reflection of the period drawing-room. 
 
 I gave my name to the footman. Stepping to 
 the drawing-room door, he announced, in a much 
 drilled voice, "Mr. Roman Elliott!" 
 
 An elderly lady whom I recognized at once as 
 Aunt Faith, stood in the middle of the drawing- 
 room. She was dressed in a quaint fashion ; her 
 gown of grey silk was festooned with lace and clus- 
 ters of pink roses held its soft draperies. It did not 
 take a lace expert to see that her straight old shoul- 
 ders were folded in a white lace shawl worth its 
 weight in pearls. In her left hand she held a lace 
 handkerchief on which there was a breath of rose ; 
 in her right hand was a fan. Hers was a compelling 
 personality. 
 
 But I noticed, in spite of her efforts at composure 
 that she was trembling violently and the hand that 
 held the handkerchief was shaking like an aspen as 
 she lifted it to her pale lips. 
 
 Lady Faith held out her hand with the fan still 
 in it and I took it, bowing very low over it. At 
 that moment I thanked my stars that I was in a 
 
 56
 
 / PLAY PRINCE CHARMING 
 
 dress suit or I would have felt like a chimney sweep 
 in the presence of a Princess. As I rose I glanced 
 around for Florentine. She was not in the draw- 
 ing-room. 
 
 "Lady Faith Hadley, I presume I have the honor 
 of addressing?" I hazarded. 
 
 "I am Lady Faith Hadley." There was a tremor 
 of expectation in the fine old voice. 
 
 "I am Roman Elliott, Mr. Roman Elliott," I 
 repeated, "and I came came here to see your 
 niece, the Honorable Florentine Hadley. She is 
 here, I believe." 
 
 Instantly Lady Faith's smile faded, faded 
 froze ! 
 
 It seems that she was a little deaf and had not 
 caught my name as the lackey announced it. And, 
 in place of the look that was all expectation, there 
 came one that was half disappointment and half anger. 
 I was not the long expected Prince Charming after 
 all! 
 
 "My niece is not here, Mr. Elliott," she said 
 stiffly and with a total change of manner. 
 
 "But she was here " 
 
 "Yes, she came, but she has gone. No !" in answer 
 to my questioning look, "she will not return !" 
 
 "But she surely left some word some message!" 
 
 Lady Faith pondered. A look of craft came into 
 her countenance ; she was a woman of the world 
 and keenly alive to all its ways. Save for her one 
 eccentricity her hallucination about Prince Charm- 
 ing she was as wide-awake as only a shrewd old 
 lady can be. 
 
 57
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "She left no word except to tell you that she 
 thanked you and to go." 
 
 Lady Faith's lips closed stubbornly as she deliv- 
 ered this message. 
 
 "But you knew the the object of our visit her 
 coming and mine here to-night. Surely she left 
 some other word than that I was to go !" 
 
 "Yes, yes," assented Lady Faith, "I understand 
 perfectly. My niece tried to leave some other 
 message but could not. I sympathize very deeply 
 with her. But the fact is as she now knows that 
 I cannot help either you or her." 
 
 The old lady glanced at the footman who was 
 seated in the hall, and at the servants waiting be- 
 yond to serve the dinner, and she lowered her voice 
 until it sank to a whisper which I could hardly 
 hear myself. 
 
 "My niece," she said, picking her words deliberate- 
 ly, "wishes me to inform you that the arrangement 
 with you is impracticable, though she did not know it 
 until this evening. When she arrived here she learned 
 certain things certain disclosures that make it out 
 of the question." 
 
 "But she must be married by to-morrow night if 
 she would fulfill the terms of her cousin's will !" 
 
 "She expects to carry them out," insisted the old 
 lady obstinately, while the silken folds of her gown 
 shook with agitation, "and it is for that purpose that 
 she has just left this house." 
 
 "But to whom, may I ask you'll pardon me for 
 being inquisitive, but circumstances not of my own 
 seeking brought me into this case, and I feel that I 
 
 58
 
 / PLAY PRINCE CHARMING 
 
 am entitled to stay until the young lady herself dis- 
 misses me to whom is she going to be married?" 
 
 Aunt Faith unfurled her small satin fan. 
 
 "My niece is to marry her cousin, Sir Charles 
 Hadley!" 
 
 "But she does not want to marry him," I made bold 
 to say. 
 
 "On the contrary, she is most anxious. There were 
 some family matters a secret of which she was never 
 told and this, when she learned it, immediately 
 changed her view she should, I admit, have been 
 made aware of the situation before. It was to be 
 sure of meeting Sir Charles that she called her car- 
 riage around to the rear entrance of this house just 
 now; she could not lose a moment, but begged me to 
 make her excuses and say farewell for her." 
 
 I listened, too chagrined for speech. "Surely, Lady 
 Faith," I burst out, "this has not your approval." 
 
 "On the contrary," she observed quite haughtily, "I 
 commend it thoroughly. My niece should be very 
 thankful under the circumstances to get an Eng- 
 lish baronet the horror of her situation I am sure 
 if you knew " 
 
 "I don't want to know," I flung at her. A storm of 
 words sprang to my lips, but I held it back; but, 
 though I kept my tongue, I could not check the flood 
 of crimson that tided my face. Lady Faith saw it. 
 
 "Your protests and your temper are alike wasted," 
 said she. "Florentine has made her choice she could 
 make no other !" 
 
 "This is monstrous," I burst forth, unable now to 
 pick my words. "It is horrible, an act without con- 
 
 59
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 science or justification. Nothing can express how de- 
 spicable it is. One moment the girl shrinks in deadly 
 loathing from this man who represents to her all that 
 is ugly and repulsive. The next moment she accepts 
 him gladly as a suitor, is eager for the match and 
 you tell me goes riding off into the country at night 
 after him, in order to tell him of her change of heart 
 and hasten her marriage. Lady Faith, I ask you if it 
 is within the power of mortal man to believe such a 
 tale ! I know that something deeply tragic must have 
 occurred to make her change her mind in this way." 
 
 "Something tragic did occur," admitted Lady Faith, 
 "and my niece was, naturally, much upset by it. At 
 first she gave way to tumultuous emotion, but she con- 
 quered herself and is now ready to do her part." 
 
 "And when is she to be married to Sir Charles?" 
 
 "To-night at Wentstone Castle. I have sent the 
 Rev. Mr. Pancoast on ahead." 
 
 "Then he shall know all before he performs this 
 ceremony," threatened I, "for I believe it to be a 
 machination of Sir Charles Hadley." 
 
 Lady Faith settled her head-dress and shrugged her 
 lace covered shoulders with a gesture of dissent. "I 
 dine in a little while," she said, reverting to Prince 
 Charming and casting an arch glance at the dinner 
 table and another glance toward the front door. "And 
 I am rather expecting a guest to dine with me. But 
 if if the guest does not come I shall eat alone and 
 then " 
 
 "What then?" I asked sharply, for I was not going 
 to be tamely side-tracked when this matter of Floren- 
 tine's happiness was burning its way into my heart. 
 
 60
 
 / PLAY PRINCE C 'H ARM ING 
 
 "Then I am going out to Wentstone ; Sir Charles has 
 requested me to be there." 
 
 "But at this time of night?" 
 
 "Sir Charles desires it and his word is law in this 
 family." 
 
 There was no need of arguing longer with Lady 
 Faith, so I went out into the hall and had the footman 
 put me in my coat and let me out of the door. 
 
 Lady Faith's words: "My niece is determined to 
 marry her cousin, Sir Charles," echoed in my ears. 
 Suppose it should be true ! At the same time I, as her 
 accepted suitor, had a right to demand an explanation 
 at her own lips. 
 
 She had called her carriage and gone to Wentstone. 
 Where the Castle lay and how long a drive it was from 
 London I had not the vaguest idea, but it was evidently 
 not far or Aunt Faith would scarcely have planned the 
 midnight journey. 
 
 I stood on the steps debating my next move, when, 
 by a mental process, I received a hint. I am and have 
 always been a believer in sub-conscious phenomena. 
 I know that I am prompted by something sub-mental 
 to do the thing which my poor conscious brain per- 
 plexed by exterior things could never have conceived. 
 
 My eye wandered down the quiet street, deserted 
 now save for an occasional pedestrian. Far off, going 
 every second away from me, were two horses. They 
 were saddled; one was ridden by a groom, the other 
 was led. 
 
 My conscious mind, prompted by the sub-conscious, 
 worked quickly. 
 
 "Yes! Why not?" I asked myself. I had a right 
 61
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 to follow her if ever a man had a right to follow a 
 woman. 
 
 I ran down the stoop and along the street, my foot- 
 steps making a distinct ring on the pavement. The 
 horseman moved steadily along ahead of me, 
 his horses' hoofs striking the smooth pavement with a 
 dull patter. Could I overtake them? I dared not 
 shout, but I could whistle. A shrill blast woke the 
 quiet, followed by another. The horseman turned. I 
 stood under the corner lamp and waved my hat; he 
 saw me and in a minute had reversed the horses' 
 heads and was coming toward me. He was a riding 
 groom returning leisurely from a late park les- 
 son. 
 
 "Can you give me a lift?" I called as soon as he 
 was within shouting distance. 
 
 " 'Ow ?" he asked, removing his hat. 
 
 "A lift; a horse; I want to ride out into the coun- 
 try," I exclaimed impatiently. "Do you know where 
 Wentstone Castle is?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, since I 'ave worked there, sir!" 
 
 "Then take me there, part of the way at least ; I am 
 trying to overtake a carriage that started some time 
 ago. Is there a short cut to Wentstone?" 
 
 "They 'ave made one, sir, but it h'isn't h'open to 
 the public yet, sir." 
 
 "Never mind, take me through it; we can ride it, I 
 guess, if we go single file. Now you lead on and 
 hurry." 
 
 The groom rubbed his head stupidly. 
 
 "We can't 'urry, sir, because the road is all broke 
 stone." 
 
 62
 
 / PLAY PRINCE C PI ARM ING 
 
 "Well, go as fast as you can," I ordered, "then you 
 can leave me in the road and go back home." 
 
 He agreed after a sufficient delay to set my nerves 
 tingling with impatience. Then, with a touch of the 
 whip he started his pony and I galloped hard after, 
 prudence thrown to the winds,
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE HADLEY FAMILY 
 
 A> we pounded along the road, which changed 
 rapidly from smooth pavement to dirt and 
 then to the stony cross-cut, I had an abun- 
 dance of time to reflect. 
 
 Occasionally, where the stones were piled high 
 in the road, we got out and led our horses; but 
 most of the time we worked our way stumblingly 
 but steadily along the broken path. 
 
 "Hurry," I ordered the groom. 
 
 "Carn't 'urry, sir," was the reply. "We'll 'urt 
 these 'orses' legs." 
 
 He spoke truly, for a minute later his horse 
 stepped into a hole and went down. But I pushed 
 on past him impatiently, leaving him to follow with 
 his limping animal. 
 
 My acquaintance with the lady whose carriage 
 I was going to intercept was brief enough ; the 
 meagre details of it loomed up through the shadows 
 of the night, making fantastic figures of light and 
 darkness. Once my horse slipped and plunged 
 headlong, but I pulled him up ; even the difficulties 
 of the way did not prevent me from reviewing the 
 whole of my knowledge of the girl. 
 
 And little enough it was. For I had known 
 Florentine Hadley by sight only ten days. 
 
 64
 
 It was the tea-hour, of the very day of my arrival 
 in London, that I met Lady Kensington by ap- 
 pointment at the Savoy. Scarcely were we seated 
 in the palm garden when there entered the shrubbed 
 archway a tall and fashionably dressed young 
 woman behind whom puffed a short, stoutish, mid- 
 dle aged man of heavy features and protruding blue 
 eyes. The man carried what at first appeared to 
 me to be a parcel awkwardly wrapped in a white 
 napkin, but as he came closer I saw that it was 
 his own hand that was done up in this fashion ; 
 and that the napkin was an elaborately embroidered 
 wrapping cloth. 
 
 But it was on the young woman that my eyes 
 were fixed; as they drew closer, I noticed that she 
 was possessed of a curious and most absorbing 
 beauty ; while the man was equally endued with 
 ugliness of a disturbing type. That he was much 
 older than she I saw at a glance. 
 
 They bowed as they passed us ; and, over our 
 table there floated a deep fragrance which I traced 
 to a large bunch of lilies-of-the-valley which the 
 girl wore in her corsage. For she was only a girl in 
 years, and apparently a very innocent one at that. 
 I watched her, and as she came nearer, the im- 
 pression of youth fulness deepened ; for in spite of 
 her height, her carriage and her self-possession, she 
 had a face on which experience had left no marks 
 and an expression that was one of much sweetness. 
 Never had I seen a face of such almost distressing 
 loveliness. 
 
 I could not observe her features distinctly in that 
 65
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 passing glance, but I saw that they were quite 
 classically perfect, small delicate nose, round chin, 
 great wide blue eyes and a forehead from whose 
 temples the hair swept back in waves of silver. It 
 was her hair that specially caught my eye, for it 
 was blonde ; not yellow, gold nor henna, but a pure 
 silver of a shade such as one seldom sees except 
 among the Marguerites of the Rhineland or the Ingas 
 of the Norse. 
 
 But this girl was English, and her manner as 
 she bowed showed her to be one of untainted breed- 
 ing and perfect form. Yet, though her full red lips 
 parted easily in a girlish smile, I thought there was 
 something in the wide blue eyes that suggested 
 anxiety, and I could have sworn that, with little 
 effort, the anxiety could have deepened to terror. 
 But her loveliness; how winning it was! 
 
 I was quite prepared for Lady Hensington's next 
 remark. 
 
 "Lady Florentine Hadley, the beauty of the past 
 two London seasons !" 
 
 "And the man?" I found voice to ask. 
 
 "Her cousin, Sir Charles Hadley. Rumor has it 
 that they are engaged to be married; are, indeed, to 
 be married very soon." 
 
 "I don't believe rumor," I said, setting down my 
 cup with a rattle. 
 
 "Isn't your tea right?" queried Lady Kensington. 
 "We have better tea in New York than they do 
 here, for all their talk about their English tea." 
 
 "No, all wrong; I mean yes, it's all right, or I 
 hope so." 
 
 66
 
 THE HADLEY FAMILY 
 
 "The girl is as fine as she looks," gossiped Lady 
 Kensington, not noticing my diversified statements, 
 "but she's half American. Her mother was a Bos- 
 tonian; married here in England; took the girl 
 back to school there ; then died. I'll tell you all 
 about it some time ; but the girl is fine." 
 
 I agreed with her instantly that the girl was fine, 
 and I could have added the comparative and the 
 superlative, for it took no more than one glance 
 at Florentine Hadley to tell me that, though en- 
 dowed by nature with everything desirable, she 
 had added one thing more, a surpassing grace of 
 character and an unselfishness which acted as a 
 Lydian stone to bring out that trait in others. This 
 gentle spirit gave her face the Madonna touch 
 which made it so positively worshipful. 
 
 "Who is this Sir Charles?" I forced myself to 
 ask after another gulp at the bitter cup. 
 
 "Capitalist, promoter, miner, banker, rogue! I 
 don't know how to answer exactly," laughed Lady 
 Kensington. "But I know he was a younger son and 
 that he went out to India to earn the fortune which his 
 father could not hand to him. Men who seek a thing 
 usually find that thing if they don't find anything else. 
 It is a case of ask and ye shall receive be it good or 
 bad ! Sir Charles found a mine in India, one of those 
 now rare gold mines in the gold country, and he made 
 a fortune out of it. He became interested in the 
 Sepoys and is here now promoting a gigantic mining 
 project in which everybody in London is invited to 
 invest money. He is shrewd and fortunate but he has 
 a reputation for being none too scrupulous. But un- 
 
 67
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 scrupulousness is a peculiarity of the born cripple, I've 
 heard." 
 
 "The born cripple!" I exclaimed in some surprise. 
 
 "Yes," said Lady Kensington, "Sir Charles is a 
 cripple; he has a crippled hand. He always carries it 
 rolled mummy fashion in fine linen, extravagantly 
 embroidered." 
 
 "How very remarkable, but surely such a fashion 
 renders the hand more conspicuous !" 
 
 Lady Kensington lifted her eyebrows; "I'm sure I 
 don't know. Some say he carries it so because he is 
 proud of it as an added mark of distinction; others 
 declare that he keeps it wrapped as a reminder that he 
 owes the world a grudge." 
 
 "I'd like to make it deeper," I interposed. 
 
 "He owes the world a grudge on his mother's side of 
 the house." 
 
 "I am more interested than I can tell you," I de- 
 clared, "and I wish you would tell me more." 
 
 "I suppose so," said Lady Kensington, on whom my 
 admiration of Florentine had not passed unobserved. 
 "And I'll humor you this time because I must admit 
 that Sir Charles interests me also. Ugly as he is, and 
 bad as I believe him to be, there is a certain fascina- 
 tion about his personality besides his unscrupulous- 
 ness. The story begins with his mother, dear, timid 
 Lady Louise, who died when Sir Charles was a baby ; 
 he is now forty-two or thereabouts. Lady Louise stood 
 in deadly terror of her husband who was literally her 
 lord and master. He was of the rigid school of dis- 
 ciplinarians who believe that if you dislike to do a 
 thing you must do it because it is good for you to 
 
 68
 
 THE HADLEY FAMILY 
 
 do what you do not like to do. He prepared many a 
 surprise for poor, shrinking Lady Louise, and the last 
 one brought about her death." 
 
 "How perfectly horrible!" 
 
 "He delighted in shocking her just at times when he 
 should have been most careful." 
 
 "I hope the old reprobate is dead!" 
 
 "His mortal self died but his spirit lives again in Sir 
 Charles." 
 
 I shivered visibly ; and to think that he was engaged 
 to be married to her ! 
 
 Lady Kensington deliberately prepared a cup of 
 tea. She was thoroughly enjoying the interest with 
 which I listened to her story, and, womanlike, she 
 wanted to keep me waiting. 
 
 "Well," said she, beginning at last, "one day Sir 
 Peter came home bringing with him a dinner guest 
 this is ancient history you know; it happened years 
 ago; the dinner was just about to be served when 
 Lady Louise sent a servant down begging Sir Peter 
 to excuse her. Sir Peter went to her apartments up- 
 stairs to know the reason why and Lady Louise told 
 him that she had that day learned something which, 
 while it pleased her greatly, had somewhat upset her 
 nerves, and she must be careful, oh so very careful ! 
 Accidents had not been unknown to her and the 
 story is a little little," hesitated Lady Hensin- 
 ton. 
 
 "Go on, don't mind me; I'll try to forget it!" 
 
 "When Lady Louise, with the smelling salts at her 
 nose, told Sir Peter that she could not go down to 
 meet a strange guest, a determined look came into Sir 
 
 69
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Peter's eye. It was a good an especially good 
 time to discipline the lady; she must do that which 
 she did not want to do ! So he insisted ; and, in spite 
 of her protests, he forced her to let her maid hook her 
 into a dinner gown ; then, trembling, nervous, shaking 
 with that queer creepy chill, she followed her lord 
 to the drawing-room. There sat the guest, a stranger. 
 He rose at their entrance and stood waiting for the 
 introduction. Sir Peter pronounced the names, and 
 Lady Louise, still dazed with the revelation of the af- 
 ternoon and her own dizziness, took a step forward. 
 She held out her right hand and the stranger, after a 
 second's hesitation, put his hand into hers. Lady Louise 
 took it, felt it, and tried to give it a little shake. In- 
 stead she glanced at it, shrieked and crumpled up on 
 the floor ! Sir Peter let her lie there for discipline 
 while he took the arm of the guest and marched him 
 off to the dining-room where they sat and feasted un- 
 til past midnight. Meanwhile poor Lady Louise, slowly 
 reviving, dragged herself from the floor and upstairs 
 to her own room where she took to her bed for a 
 week." 
 
 "But the guest, what was the matter with him?" 
 "It seems that there were no fingers on his right 
 hand and Lady Louise did not know it until she found 
 his hand in hers with her fingers closing tightly around 
 the crippled thing. 
 
 "For the next months she led a life of coming dread, 
 and, when the child was born, her ladyship begged to 
 see it ; they refused ; she insisted, and they showed it 
 to her. There were no fingers on its right hand. And 
 that," said Lady Kensington, rising from the tea table, 
 
 70
 
 THE HAD LEY FAMILY 
 
 "is why Sir Charles carries his right hand wrapped in 
 a handkerchief." 
 
 "Awful !" I exclaimed as I helped Lady Kensington 
 on with her wraps. "It makes me long for a breath of 
 fresh air." 
 
 As we left the Palm Garden I managed to look back 
 at Florentine it seemed the most natural thing in the 
 world to call her by her first name she sat facing Sir 
 Charles, but her eyes had followed us to the door. 
 Perhaps it was my fancy, but she looked like a bird 
 in a snare, its wings beating against the cruel cords. 
 
 I thought of the conversation again that night, and 
 the look of terror in Florentine's eyes deepened as I 
 pictured them. I wondered if I would see her again; 
 and I mentally answered yes. Fortune favored me. 
 The very next day I called upon the aged Duchess of 
 Hume ; I had promised to present a letter from some- 
 one in Baltimore. The Duchess was eighty and full 
 of gossip ; her friends said she was at once the liveliest 
 and the wickedest old personage in London; certainly 
 the greatest gossip. She was bursting full of talk and 
 dying for some one to whom to tell it. Her Grace 
 was delighted to see me and at once poured me a cup 
 of tea. 
 
 By adroit steps I led the conversation around to 
 the Honorable Florentine and her cousin, Sir Charles ; 
 for I must confess that the object of my visit to this 
 old lady, who was a living Blue Book of English soci- 
 ety, was to learn more about the girl whose face had so 
 deeply stirred me. Know the Hadleys! Of course 
 she did. "Charity Hadley was Flower Girl at my wed- 
 ding," said the gossipy old lady, warming up to the
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 subject. "Charity is one of the three sisters, Floren- 
 tine's aunts, and she lives out at Wentstone, the Castle 
 in the Woods, not far from London." 
 
 "Tell me about her," I had entreated. 
 
 The Duchess settled her headdress. She had been 
 pouring items into inattentive ears; but here was a 
 chance to have a close listener. "Lady Charity is the 
 aunt of the Honorable Florentine," she repeated, "and 
 when she was a girl she was very beautiful, almost as 
 beautiful as Florentine. They were a family of beau- 
 ties when I was a young matron. But Charity was the 
 prettiest of all." 
 
 "She is married, I suppose," I remarked, for I was 
 determined to gain all the information possible about 
 the relatives of the lovely young woman of the Savoy 
 Palm Garden. 
 
 "No, she's single," said the old lady; "and she'll 
 stay single, too; she's had her romance." 
 
 "Tell it to me." 
 
 The Duchess was only too pleased. "It began when 
 Charity was a school girl, away at a convent. She 
 came home during her vacations and she got acquaint- 
 ed with the curate of Wentstone. Charity adored 
 goodness and fell in love with him at first sight. As 
 soon as she left the convent their engagement was 
 announced." 
 
 "But why did they not get married ; you say she is 
 single?" 
 
 "No, they never married," said the Duchess. "It 
 was very strange. Charity loved him and he loved her, 
 but he was one of those men who go in for perfec- 
 tion. It was odd that Charity should have worshiped 
 
 7?
 
 THE HADLEY FAMILY 
 
 him as she did, for he was the most peculiar man that 
 ever lived." 
 
 "In what way was he so strange?" 
 
 "Why, he believed in the crucifixion of the spirit, 
 that was what he called it. His theology told him that 
 we were put here on earth to be unhappy, and he 
 worked hard upon Charity's spirit to make her 
 wretched." 
 
 "Did he succeed?" 
 
 "Almost, and he would have succeeded utterly but 
 that he died just as Charity was beginning to be miser- 
 able. He had sinned in his youth, so he said, and he 
 was anxious to confess his sin to Charity. He used to 
 tell her how, previous to entering the theological semi- 
 nary, he had had his experience as a Lothario. But 
 that, since his eighteenth birthday, his conduct had 
 been exemplary and he wanted her to know all about 
 it." 
 
 "Very fine of him, I am sure." 
 
 "Charity used to listen wide-eyed and beg him not 
 to worry so for his past sins. But the worst part of it 
 came when he used to urge Charity to confess her im- 
 perfections the faults of her early life. As Charity 
 was only out of a convent a year and had been spend- 
 ing her vacations at home, drinking tea and eating 
 bread and butter, she needed no confessional. But 
 the curate could not be convinced of it. He said she 
 was too pretty to be innocent, and poor Charity 
 would cry because she had nothing to confess. 
 
 "She must have loved him deeply." 
 
 "She did, in spite of everything, though he wasn't 
 much to look at either. He was tall and thin, bald 
 
 73
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 headed and narrow faced. Narrow was the word to 
 describe him all through. He had a good appetite but 
 he didn't believe in indulging it, so he lived on sand- 
 wiches as they seemed to him less wicked than roast 
 beef. After he had spent the afternoons with Charity, 
 and had had one of his talks with her, they would dine 
 on sandwiches and he would go away. Of course 
 Charity cried herself to sleep, and the curate would 
 come around again a few days later looking taller, 
 narrower and paler than ever." 
 
 "A fascinating courtship!" 
 
 "But poor pretty little Charity enjoyed it, or she 
 tried to make herself believe she did. It was the re- 
 ligious strain in the Hadleys they had a grand uncle 
 who went into the church cropping out in Charity. 
 When the curate died he left her his Oxford Bible 
 with instructions to read it through twice a year." 
 
 "And has she done it?" 
 
 "Oh, dear yes, she has done it, and faithfully. She 
 reads it as he taught her to read it. I called on her a 
 year ago and she was reading the Bible through for the 
 word Disgrace. She had read it through for Despised 
 and for Confusion and Condemnation and Despair, 
 and next she was going to look for something else I 
 don't remember what it was." 
 
 "She .is reading it through for certain words?" I 
 asked, my curiosity increasing. 
 
 "Yes, don't you understand? She found that De- 
 spised occurs twenty times in the Bible, or was it 
 forty times? She counts them; and that Confusion 
 could be found thirty, or maybe it was seventy times. 
 The curate told her it was the only enlightened way to 
 
 74
 
 THE HADLEY FAMILY 
 
 read the Bible. She reads it pencil in hand. Her 
 Bible is always with her, and when she lays it down 
 she wraps it in the black silk handkerchief which the 
 curate used to wear around his neck ; she's done it for 
 thirty years." 
 
 "Then Lady Charity is fully " 
 
 I might have added fully able and old enough to 
 avoid mournful entanglements in future, when the 
 
 I door opened and a guest was announced, and I was 
 cut off from further queries. 
 But I returned in a day; making some trivial ex- 
 cuse concerning the Baltimore family. I wanted to 
 hear more about the Hadleys. 
 
 I led the conversation back to them. The old Lady 
 did not remember that she had gossiped about them the 
 day before, but was only too ready to talk. Oh, yes ! 
 She remembered the old Duke of Hadley, dead these 
 sixty years or more. He had been a man with a domes- 
 tic tragedy in his life. She would tell me. 
 
 The story as it stamped itself on my mental reserva- 
 tion was that the old Duke of Hadley, having married 
 late in life, wanted an heir, and when, after ten years 
 of wedded life, none had appeared, he took to upbraid- 
 ing his spouse. He stormed and she wept. 
 
 Then, gentleman fashion, he wreaked his spite on 
 living things and for weeks he would be off trapping 
 and shooting wild animals. During his visits home 
 he spent his days adding to his gun collection, which 
 soon grew to be the finest in England. 
 
 One day the Duchess whispered something to him, 
 something she had not dared to say before for fear of 
 false alarm, and the Duke shouted with joy. Then fol- 
 
 75
 
 lowed great days in the Castle. The Duke shot no 
 more but spent all his time collecting guns for the 
 heir. "He shall be a famous sportsman," he declared. 
 
 Then one night there was commotion in the 
 Castle and servants flew in all directions. The 
 Duke sat in the library surrounded by his guns and 
 waited. After awhile a nurse opened the door. 
 
 "It's a girl," announced she. 
 
 "Hell!" exclaimed the Duke. 
 
 In a few minutes another nurse came running. 
 
 "It's another girl," said the nurse. 
 
 "Double Hell !" yelled the disappointed Duke. 
 
 A third time the nurse opened the door; "It's 
 three girls," she whispered, terrified. 
 
 "Hell ! three times Hell," roared the outraged 
 Duke. And straightway he grabbed the gun nearest 
 him and disappeared. It was three months before 
 he came home. And, meanwhile, the Duchess, re- 
 covering slowly, named the little girls Faith, Hope 
 and Charity. She said she wanted the Christian 
 graces to be in the family somehow. 
 
 When the Duke came home, he was testy enough. 
 He stormed and stormed and would not eat. One 
 morning he got back on the old topic of his disap- 
 pointment, and, rising from the breakfast table, he 
 advanced toward the Duchess shouting and shaking 
 his fist. 
 
 "I wanted a boy, I tell you ; I wanted a boy ! I 
 wanted a boy so I could will my guns to him, be- 
 cause they are " 
 
 There was a gurgle in this throat and the old man 
 sank to the floor in a seizure. Then came a sort of 
 
 76
 
 THE HAD LEY FAMILY 
 
 sleep or coma which lasted two years. At the end 
 
 of two years he opened his mouth and said: " 
 
 great guns !" Then he slowly died and was laid in 
 the Hadley vault, where he has slept over sixty 
 years. As for the guns, they had drifted around 
 until they had come into the possession of Sir 
 Charles. 
 
 The valetudinarian Duchess of Hume cackled 
 merrily as she told me the story; and soon after I 
 came away. It was, indeed, an eccentric family out 
 of which Florentine, exquisite flower of a long line 
 of English ancestors had blossomed as an exotic. 
 Her mother was an American, and this fact would 
 account for the sprightliness which had been so 
 noticeable in her. 
 
 I had seen her daily since for eight beautiful, 
 blessed days ; and my first impression of her that 
 she was that rare thing, a reigning beauty with 
 a heart of gold, had but deepened in my mind. 
 
 I touched my horse and pushed along, for our pace 
 had been slow but steady. 
 
 My reflections were broken by the groom: 
 
 "'Ere you h'are, sir!" 
 
 We had reached the end of the cross cut and were 
 at the broad, main highway. 
 
 "Is this the road?" 
 
 "Yes, sir ; straight road to Wentstone, sir." 
 
 "Very well! Now you may go." 
 
 I slid off my horse and handed him the reins. 
 
 "I shall not need the horse again." 
 
 The groom hesitated ; the night was dark, the 
 rain was falling and he was leaving me in the mid- 
 77
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 die of a deserted country road, far from human- 
 kind. 
 
 "Shall I wait, sir?" 
 
 "No! you can go!" I repeated sharply, "and here's 
 for your trouble." 
 
 The man took the money, tipped his hat, and, 
 after the fashion of English servants, obeyed with- 
 out further question, leaving me standing there, in 
 my dress suit, in the drizzling night.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 
 
 1 STOOD in the open peering toward London ; 
 had I mistaken the rapidity with which her 
 carriage would travel and had she passed me 
 and driven on to the Castle? Which way should 
 I go? 
 
 My search of the road was rewarded by the 
 sound of horses' hoofs; they grew more distinct 
 until I realized that they were very close; the road 
 was so dark they were almost upon me before I 
 recognized the coachman and the correct livery of 
 the Hadley family. 
 
 I lifted my hand for the coachman to stop; he 
 remembered me at once, and, though he must have 
 wondered at finding me here in the open road, 
 without horse or equipage, he pulled up. 
 
 I opened the carriage door. There, crouched in 
 a corner, as I had expected to find her, was Floren- 
 tine. But, though I surmised that she would not 
 be in a happy mood, I was not prepared for such 
 an utter abandon of misery as that in which she 
 was plunged. She had flung off her cloak and 
 with her head buried in her gloved hands she was 
 sobbing convulsively hysterically. 
 
 "Florentine !" At sound of my voice she lifted 
 her head ; I do not think she noticed that I called 
 
 79
 
 her by her first name. 1 stepped into the carriage 
 and shut the door. She turned on me fiercely. 
 
 "You must not/' she cried. "You cannot! I for- 
 bid you to come !" 
 
 The horses had started and the carriage was jolt- 
 ing over the rough road ; I waited for her to become 
 quiet. 
 
 "Tell me what is the matter," I said as her sobs 
 ceased. "I am entitled to know; it is no more than 
 right that you should explain." 
 
 "There is nothing to tell; I have made up my 
 mind to marry my cousin !" 
 
 She was making an effort to regain her composure 
 and was feigning a coolness which I knew she could 
 not feel. 
 
 "Do you want to marry him?" I asked in some 
 chagrin. 
 
 She observed my tone and tried to keep her voice 
 as steady as my own. 
 
 "Yes, it is my desire to marry him " 
 
 "And you love him?" 
 
 She evaded the question. 
 
 "I shall love him perhaps, but I think I am 
 most fortunate in having him offer me his hand 
 he must be deeply in love with me knowing our fam- 
 ily secret!" 
 
 Her voice broke in another uncontrollable sob. 
 
 "What is this dreadful thing that has happened?" 
 I asked. "What did Aunt Faith tell you that so 
 changed you? Can you not confide in me?" 
 
 She cried piteously, with her face buried in her 
 80
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 
 
 hands: "Oh, let me shut it out the disgrace it 
 is too awful awful." 
 
 The sound of her weeping filled the carriage. 
 
 I ventured to put my hand upon her shoulder. 
 
 "Florentine," I protested, "I love you too well 
 to have you sacrifice yourself; though we are little 
 more than strangers, as time is counted, yet we have 
 lived as much as many persons live in years. I speak 
 to you not only as a man speaking to the woman he 
 worships, but as a brother would advise a little sister. 
 If you love Sir Charles if his ugliness his brutal 
 temper his hand none of these things disgust you!'' 
 
 It was a wicked thrust and I flush at it to this day. 
 But I was little prepared for its electrical effect 
 upon Florentine. Perhaps it was because she had 
 grown to abhor the hand ; perhaps some drop of the 
 blood of Lady Louise who had bequeathed the 
 crippled fingers to her child rushed red through her 
 veins ; but she gave a wild shriek, and throwing up 
 her arms, she fell back in the carriage gasping for 
 breath. 
 
 "Forgive me!" I pleaded. "I did not know " 
 
 "Oh the awful hand, the wicked face, the terrible 
 voice, I shall go mad I shall die !" 
 
 "Be quiet, Florentine," I commanded, "and prom- 
 ise me that you will, at least, not let them perform 
 the marriage ceremony to-night." 
 
 She agreed, though she did not half know what 
 she was saying; and, then, I tried to get out of her 
 the terrible secret which had so changed her. 
 
 But she would not tell me; on this point she was 
 obdurate. 
 
 81
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 I talked of various things, and soon she was quite 
 herself again. Perhaps it was the hypnotism of 
 love; maybe it is the magnetism of youth, but the 
 mind rebounds; and in an incredibly short space of 
 time I had wrung from her a laugh, while her ex- 
 quisite smiling lips assured me that if left to herself 
 she would not marry Sir Charles and more to me 
 that she would try to carry out our marriage con- 
 tract. 
 
 "Do you love me?" I asked abruptly. 
 
 "I have loved you for ten days," she replied in- 
 tensely, "ever since the time I first saw you in the 
 Palm Garden of the Savoy with Lady Kensington." 
 
 It was love at first sight with her as with me. But 
 this, while unusual enough under ordinary conditions, 
 strange to say, provoked no comment from me now. 
 I had gone out to her too wholly and unreservedly to 
 be surprised that she should recognize me in re- 
 turn. 
 
 "Then, if the aunts will give their consent, why 
 can we not be married here at Wentstone as we 
 proposed ?" 
 
 "They will not agree," she said decidedly. "Oh, 
 you do not know the awful situation the awful 
 disgrace that hangs over me and Sir Charles will 
 expose it and tell all London to-morrow if I do 
 not marry him." 
 
 "And that is what Lady Faith told you?" 
 
 "Yes, oh, yes! And she begged me to marry 
 Cousin Charles if he were to tell it would kill us 
 all." 
 
 "And he will keep quiet?" 
 82
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 
 
 "If I marry him not otherwise he offers me no 
 choice but that." 
 
 "Someone ought to murder him!'' I exclaimed, 
 closing my fists and clinching my teeth. 
 
 "Murder, oh no," she shivered. "But he is leaving 
 no stone unturned and, now, Aunt Faith is helping 
 him." 
 
 "Would you marry me if you were free to make a 
 choice?" I asked. 
 
 Her face flushed. "Yes !" she uttered softly. And, 
 then, in a tone of girlish despair she wailed, "Oh you 
 do not know or you would not ask me I am not 
 what you think I am." 
 
 The blood leaped in my veins ; she loved me ; her 
 heart was mine. I cared not for Sir Charles. 
 
 "If they will consent it shall be with their consent; 
 and if they do not it shall be without !" 
 
 Her face took on a lovely blush. She was neither 
 a vacillating woman nor a coquette ; but in few lives 
 does there ever come a moment requiring more de- 
 cision ; certainly in her young life there had never be- 
 fore come a situation so fraught with conflicting emo- 
 tions ; and she knew not what to do ; she leaned toward 
 me, but the terrible burden the new burden weighed 
 her down. 
 
 "I'm going to marry you," I said with determina- 
 tion, "unless you yourself " 
 
 "I could not forbid you if I would," she replied. 
 
 And that is all she would say. 
 
 "We must go out to Wentstone," she added after a 
 minute's thought. "It is the only thing to do. But it 
 
 83
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 is a terribly long distance, nearly an hour's drive from 
 here and you're thinly dressed ; you'll be cold." 
 
 "Who said so?" I responded, buttoning my light 
 coat around me in the sharp wind that whistled 
 through the carriage windows. "It's you I'm thinking 
 about, just now." 
 
 "I'm warm as a tea cake," she said brightly, "and 
 I don't mind the drive. But it's awfully good of you 
 
 to help me " She tried to speak calmly, but her 
 
 tragedy crept into her voice. 
 
 Her voice, when she said that she was not what I 
 thought she was, recurred to me. but I dismissed 
 it. 
 
 "Stop !" I said, "there's one thing more. The Rev. 
 Jedediah Pancoast!" 
 
 "Did Aunt Faith see him ?" 
 
 "Yes, and she told him to go on out to Wentstone. 
 Do you suppose he will wait for us ?" 
 
 The girl laughed, but it was a laugh with more 
 weariness than mirth in it. 
 
 "We'll get there before the Rev. Mr. Pancoast," she 
 assured me. 
 
 "How do you figure that?" I asked. "He must 
 surely have had half an hour's start of us." 
 
 "You don't know Mr. Pancoast; and what's more 
 important you don't know his horse. If I were a man 
 I'd bet," she said with a merry twinkle, "I'd bet that 
 we will be there an hour ahead of Mr. Pancoast." 
 
 "What is he driving?" I ventured to ask. 
 
 "He's driving Jephtha's Daughter. Jephtha was slow 
 enough, but Jephtha's Daughter is worse ; Jephtha 
 dropped dead the night of Aunt Hope's wedding and 
 
 84
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 
 
 since then Mr. Pancoast has driven Jephtha's Daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 "I don't want to seem inquisitive," I remarked, "but 
 would you mind telling me how long ago that was ?" 
 
 "Nearly thirty years ago," said Florentine. "And 
 you needn't apologize for asking me ; Jeptha's Daugh- 
 ter is not at all sensitive about her age. She is very 
 well preserved and she and the Rev. Mr. Pancoast have 
 an understanding. When she goes to sleep Mr. Pan- 
 coast wakes up. And when Mr. Pancoast sleeps 
 Jephtha's Daughter wakens." 
 
 "How did they think of so brilliant an arrange- 
 ment?" I queried. 
 
 "Oh, now you take me into the depths of a parish 
 disgrace," pursued Florentine, waxing warm, woman 
 fashion, over a scandal. "Once upon a time they used 
 to doze off anywhere. But one day, when Mr. Pan- 
 coast was asleep, Jephtha's Daughter stopped and took 
 a nap also. It happened to be in front of a Public 
 House, and when Mr. Pancoast woke up one of the 
 vestry was shaking him. 'Good thing I happened to 
 be passing,' said the vestryman. Mr. Pancoast pro- 
 tested, but the vestryman insisted upon getting into 
 the buggy and driving Jephtha's Daughter home. Ever 
 after that, he would wink at Mr. Pancoast and tap his 
 forehead and say : 'Never mind ; don't apologize ; I've 
 been there myself !' 
 
 "After that experience Mr. Pancoast made an ar- 
 rangement with Jephtha's Daughter. Now, before he 
 climbs into the buggy, he takes hold of her ear and 
 whispers something into it. Perhaps he tells her she 
 can take her nap first." 
 
 85
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 As she talked, I had time to note the gladness of her 
 nature as revealed by her voice, which was clear and 
 true; and she had that rare gift in woman, a delightful 
 sense of humor. 
 
 "I suppose you are wondering how I came to speak 
 to you this evening," she said, lapsing again into a 
 half anxious mood. "It must seem to you almost as 
 though I had selected a total stranger and that it was 
 most bold of me; but you were not a stranger, for 
 Lady Kensington told me all about you long ago. She 
 told me how she brought you over from the States to 
 help with her daughter's wedding presents and how 
 er highly she had valued your services and how 
 much er she had paid you to watch the Hepworth 
 alone. You see, I could not help trusting you." 
 
 The Hepworth ! If I had not been so deeply in love 
 a pang of reproach would have shot through me. But 
 I felt no pang. 
 
 "And she told me something else. She told me that 
 she valued you so much that she took you with her 
 wherever she went not only for safety, for you know 
 she wears valuable pearls but even for companion- 
 ship." 
 
 How self-sacrificing of Lady Kensington. Just wait 
 until she secures my valued companionship at another 
 social function! 
 
 "And when she told me about you, I knew I should 
 like you and that I could trust you. But that wasn't 
 the only reason, for I admired your face, too. I don't 
 know," she added still trying to justify herself in my 
 eyes, "just why it was that I liked you so much." 
 
 "You needn't try to discover," I said with as warm 
 86
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 
 
 a glance as I dared venture. "The fact that you like 
 me is enough for me." 
 
 But she seemed determined to clear herself still fur- 
 ther in my eyes of any appearance of forwardness. 
 
 "It was almost as if I had confidence in you at first 
 sight," she declared. "And, then, when I saw you at 
 the Carlton and at the Savoy, having tea with her and 
 looking over papers, I knew I could trust you with 
 my my affairs. And you must pardon me for going 
 about less chaperoned than other English girls of 
 title; my position as the daughter of an American 
 mother has made me a little different from them." 
 
 "I know that no moment has ever been as happy as 
 the present one; but why," I asked, "why did you 
 change your mind about marrying me? you like and 
 trust me and I ask no more !" 
 
 Florentine turned squarely in the carriage and 
 looked me full in the eyes ; her face was the color of 
 poppy leaves but she spoke clearly and bravely. 
 
 "Because you are an honest man, Mr. Elliott; 
 though poor, you and the women of your family, your 
 mother your sisters if you have any all are hon- 
 orable women ?" 
 
 She paused as if for a reply. 
 
 "That is all !'' she said stopping abruptly. "If I 
 should tell you more you would stop the carriage 
 you would refuse to sit here by my side you would 
 leave me " 
 
 "Stop !'' I exclaimed, "not all the saints above could 
 come down here and tell me " 
 
 "Whoa ! Whoa !" The brougham lurched to one 
 side and stopped with a sharp bump. 
 
 87
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "What is the matter?" she cried. 
 
 "I will see!" 
 
 I stuck my head far out of the window in the 
 drizzly black; the road was heavy and the night star- 
 less. There was no one to be seen but I could hear the 
 stamping of the startled horses. Just as I was about 
 to open the carriage door and step out to ascertain the 
 cause of the disturbance, someone opened it from the 
 outside and saved me the trouble. A hand apparently 
 from nowhere was thrust out and at the same time 
 something was thrust inside and the door was slammed 
 with a bang. Simultaneously I uttered a yell. 
 
 "What's the matter?" cried Florentine, clasping me 
 in the darkness. "Oh, are you hurt?" 
 
 "Nothing ! A mere trifle ! My foot !" 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 But I didn't answer her for I had thrown the weight 
 off my foot and was out of the carriage. I wanted to 
 know who lurked in the road at that time of night. 
 Nothing was to be seen; I ran, followed by the foot- 
 man, down a narrow footpath which dropped suddenly 
 into a ravine; I called, but there was no answer. 
 Slowly searching each side of the path I retraced my 
 steps to the carriage road. Florentine was leaning out 
 of the door of the brougham. 
 
 "Do not go away again," she begged. "I am awfully 
 frightened." 
 
 I wanted to explore further but her pale, beautiful 
 face in its silver frame held me fascinated, and she 
 needed me. I got back in the carriage and shut the 
 door. Down at my feet was the great black bag which 
 had been thrown into the carriage door, apparently 
 
 88
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK BAG 
 
 right out of the depth of the night, smashing my foot 
 in its descent. I got hold of the handle and tried to 
 lift it. 
 
 "It weighs a hundred pounds," I said, tugging at 
 it. "It's a wonder that the handle holds." 
 
 "Let me help," said Florentine, stripping off one of 
 her long gloves and reaching down for a handle. 
 
 "I can manage it," I answered. "But where do you 
 suppose it came from ; and and don't put your glove 
 back on !" as she started to out her hand back in her 
 glove. 
 
 "Where do you suppose ?" she repeated wonderingly 
 and letting her hand rest for a minute on mine. 
 
 It might have been cowardice upon my part, but, for 
 some reason or other, I thought it prudent not to open 
 the satchel at this minute. So I pushed it back under 
 the seat, using both hands to do so. 
 
 Meanwhile the coachman, from his own volition, 
 had started up his horses again. 
 
 89
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A BULLET IN THE DARK 
 
 IHAT is the most singular thing!" exclaimed 
 Florentine. "What do you suppose it 
 means ?" 
 
 I would have been glad to tell her. 
 
 "Why do you not open it now ?" 
 
 "Wait a little while," I said. 
 
 She shivered, and I drew the silver fox closer 
 around her shoulders ; but she shook it off. 
 
 "Don't mind me, but you are cold." She touched 
 my coat. "And you are wet; the rain beats in that 
 window." 
 
 Before I could stop her she had picked up the 
 feather boa which she had brought with her, and which 
 had fallen to her feet, and with quick turns she had 
 twisted it around my neck. Then, with .her pretty 
 white hands, one soft and warm and bare and the other 
 clothed in snow white kid, she knotted the big fluffy 
 white feather thing upon my chest, tying it as she 
 would have tied it on her own beautiful bosom. 
 
 I sat there and let her do it, though not accustomed 
 to feathers. As she was tying it I remembered how, 
 once upon a time was it in a previous existence way 
 back in Boston ? I was awakened in the night by my 
 old Aunt Jane, who shook me and said there were bur- 
 glars in the cellar. I grabbed my revolver and rushed 
 
 90
 
 A BULLET IN THE DARK 
 
 downstairs and through the front basement to head 
 them off. Of course I fell into the coal hole outside 
 under the front stoop, for it wasn't burglars but only 
 the cook trying to get in. But, in through the coal 
 hole I went ; and I remember how Aunt Jane threw 
 down her shawl and told me to wrap it around my 
 scantily attired shoulders until they could unlock the 
 coal cellar and let me all the way through ; and how I 
 had indignantly tossed it back, preferring to freeze 
 rather than die wrapped in a shawl. 
 
 Yet here I was, sitting in a closed carriage in Tune 
 with that ridiculous white feather boa knotted on my 
 chest, looking as proud as a pouter pigeon and as 
 pleased as Punch. 
 
 "I am worrying about you," said the girl, as she 
 gave another little touch to the boa ; "I really am wor- 
 rying, for the rain is coming in your window." 
 
 I leaned forward to close the window a little; the 
 drizzle was certainly coming sharply my way; as I 
 did so the ends of the boa fluttered in the sharp 
 draught and I must have filled the window full, for 
 I am not a slim man. 
 
 Whizz-zz ! 
 
 Something cut the air sharply. 
 
 Whizz-zz ! 
 
 Florentine grabbed my arm with both her hands 
 but I noticed even then that she did not scream. The 
 poor girl was nerved to any emergency. 
 
 "Lean back," I commanded sharply. "Get behind 
 me if you can ! There !" 
 
 I felt her slim form sinking helplessly back in the 
 cushions. Then I choked, for the air was full of 
 
 91
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 feathers. I coughed and put my hand to my chest. 
 The feather boa was cut in two. In the opposite win- 
 dow were two sharp holes to show where the bullets 
 had made their escape after they had plucked my 
 feathers. 
 
 "Oh," moaned Florentine, "you are hurt." 
 
 ''Lie perfectly still behind me," I ordered, "and do 
 not lift your head as much as a single inch." 
 
 She obeyed, but I could feel her heart beating 
 wildly. I leaned well forward upon the cushions to be 
 sure that she could find room to shield herself behind 
 me. 
 
 She must have perceived my attempt to protect her 
 for, suddenly rallying from her momentary panic, she 
 sat up and with the full force of her two small hands 
 she pushed me back where she had been. 
 
 "I cannot let you risk your life for me." 
 
 At that moment there was another sharp sound in 
 the air. 
 
 Whizz ! another bullet rushed past us carrying a 
 blur of feathers. 
 
 "Sit back," ordered Florentine sharply, as sharply 
 as I had spoken to her before; "I brought you here 
 and I refuse to let you get murdered for my sake. It 
 is my fault, I might have known they would not let you 
 
 have me " She took one side of her heavy cloak 
 
 and threw it across me. "Lean back, this cloak will 
 shield us both." 
 
 The cloak tore at the lilies and they fell in her lap, 
 crushed and broken. 
 
 "I would give my life if I had not brought you 
 here," she sobbed. 
 
 92
 
 A BULLET IN THE DARK 
 
 Some flowers, some natures, some people give forth 
 their best when bruised; at this trying moment the 
 unselfishness in her came swiftly to the surface. 
 
 "Shall you ever forgive me?" 
 
 I could not record my answer now if I tried. But 
 I know that I took off the cloak and forced it around 
 her and that I put her back upon the seat where she 
 should have been; and she sat so still and so white 
 that she frightened me. 
 
 Never, if I live to be a thousand, and I'm willing 
 to live that long in spite of the memory of that night, 
 shall I forget the remainder of that drive. It seems 
 that something went wrong with the harness and we 
 were held for a while in the middle of the road, and, 
 during that halt, I suffered the tortures of a man 
 who sees danger menacing the thing he loves ; it is an 
 agony compared to which the mediaeval rack was a 
 merry-go-round. 
 
 She could not help noticing my uneasiness, which 
 was all the more acute from powerlessness to act and, 
 by keeping her own self-control, she did what she 
 could to reassure me. 
 
 We had entered now upon the last mile of the drive 
 and were in the dense woods that surround Wentstone 
 Castle. After a while I let Florentine rise from her 
 cramped position though I kept her well out of pos- 
 sible range. She was very brave and was evidently 
 trying hard not to mention the pistol shot. 
 
 "Please please talk," she begged faintly. 
 
 "Beautiful woods !" was my utterly inane remark. I 
 once heard of a woman who was shipwrecked and all 
 she could think of to say was "Nice big rock." She 
 
 93
 
 said afterwards that the experience had driven her 
 back into the mental attitude of a child of two years. 
 
 But Florentine was getting her nerve and I was cor- 
 raling mine. 
 
 "My father would never allow these trees to be cut," 
 went on Florentine, steadying her voice and trying to 
 keep me from noticing the tremble in it. "And Uncle 
 Henry has preserved them. Uncle Henry is Aunt 
 Hope's husband," she added explanatorily. 
 
 She was sitting up now, plucky but pale, and I was 
 reassuring her and trying to lead her mind in another 
 direction. For strategic reasons I still kept the boa 
 around my neck ; for, though not possessed of a pas- 
 sion for collecting bullets in my chest, I preferred to be 
 the monopolist of them on this occasion. If any stray 
 balls were floating around I wanted to catch them 
 first so they would become acclimated to human flesh 
 before Florentine got them. 
 
 "That awful pistol !" she murmured, getting back 
 to it. 
 
 "Don't talk about it until we are out of the woods." 
 
 I would have given almost anything for a good 
 chance at my assailant at just that moment. But not 
 being able to conjure up one I thought it advisable to 
 do the next best thing, sit still and wait. The carriage 
 hardly crawled along; but I would gain nothing by 
 stepping out into the road and getting shot. 
 
 "Who fired the bullet?" she asked, still trembling 
 and unable to get away from the subject. 
 
 "I don't know, but I'm going to find out the minute 
 I get you safely housed in Wentstone Castle," I said. 
 
 "Oh p-please don't," she begged. 
 
 94
 
 A BULLET IN THE DARK 
 
 A deep shiver went over her. 
 
 "And please do look in that satchel now. I think 
 we ought to know what is in it." 
 
 I thought so, too. So, avoiding the window as well 
 as I could, I dragged the black bag from under the 
 seat. It sprang open almost at a touch. 
 
 "Whew !" I exclaimed, giving a Yankee whistle. 
 
 Florentine did not speak but she gazed into the bag 
 as if fascinated. There, even in the dusk of the car- 
 riage lamps, we saw plainly before us as complete a 
 set of murderous tools as was ever spread before the 
 eye of mortal crook. It was as if a burglar had robbed 
 himself to make us a wedding present. There was his 
 bottle of chloroform. It must have oozed out for a 
 faint sweet odor issued from the bag; and there was 
 a revolver; I secured this at once, slipping it into my 
 hip pocket and thanking my stars. Then there were 
 skeleton things of which I vaguely knew the meaning 
 and there was a jimrrfy and a wrench. 
 
 "Some workman will find himself without his tools 
 to-night," I observed, as I examined the contents of 
 the bag again. 
 
 "But who do you suppose could have thrown them 
 into this carriage ?" 
 
 "I'm afraid it wasn't a fairy godmother." 
 
 We said no more but I noticed that the color did not 
 come back to Florentine's face until we saw the dis- 
 tantly burning lights of Wentstone Castle shining 
 through the trees. 
 
 "Not a word of this to anybody," I cautioned her. 
 "We don't want to hurt our case. And we're going 
 to carry out our agreement in spite of flying lead." 
 
 95
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 She nodded assent; as for me, my feathers might 
 be shaken but not my determination; it is an heir- 
 loom.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 "TT SUPPOSE, before we get there," said Floren- 
 tine, "that I must tell you about Aunt Hope. 
 We shall see her immediately and she has her 
 traits. And you'll have to know about the Sepoy 
 girl ; she is our family skeleton." 
 
 "Let me hear the bones rattle," I answered encour- 
 agingly. 
 
 And then she told me. It was an odd story of how 
 Lady Hope had had political ambitions for Uncle 
 Henry and had "stumped" for him. But with the Eng- 
 lish tenantry the word of a childless woman has no 
 weight. So Aunt Hope telegraphed home to Uncle 
 Henry to adopt a child at once. Uncle Henry, busy 
 with his painting, sent to an orphan asylum and took 
 the first baby offered. It happened to be a native of 
 India, a little orphaned Sepoy child. And Aunt Hope 
 was laughed off the stage when, without having pre- 
 viously seen it, she had it brought on as hers." 
 
 "What became of the Sepoy baby?" I questioned 
 after I had had my laugh at Aunt Hope's expense. 
 
 "Oh, it had been legally adopted, so Aunt Hope had 
 to keep it. It grew up and is a woman now. It hap- 
 pened considerably over twenty years ago. You will 
 see her to-night and that is one of the reasons why I 
 wanted to explain. Aunt Hope sent her back to India 
 
 97
 
 one time when Cousin Charles was going, and she 
 had grown up, but she would not stay. You will see 
 her in her native Indian costume; and of course she 
 is more or less one of the family, as she is legally Aunt 
 Hope's daughter." 
 
 "How old is Aunt Hope?" I asked, as I wanted to 
 be posted on details. 
 
 "She is sixty-one but she looks much younger for 
 her years than Aunt Charity." 
 
 "How old is Aunt Charity?" 
 
 "She is sixty-one." 
 
 I didn't quite understand and I admitted it. 
 
 "Aunt Faith, Aunt Hope and Aunt Charity are all 
 three sixty-one years old. They are triplets." 
 
 "Ah yes, I remember." 
 
 The story of their birth as told me a week ago by 
 the aged Duchess of Hume sprang to my mind and I 
 wondered if Florentine had ever heard of it. She was 
 leaning back in the carriage with closed eyes while 
 the horses trotted splashily along. 
 
 "We ought to be nearly there," I observed, for lack 
 of anything more brilliant to say. "I wonder if they 
 will be surprised to see us." 
 
 "Oh, no, because I sent them word that I was com- 
 ing," she said, waking and brightening. "Oh what 
 was that?" 
 
 There was a note of quick alarm in her voice; a 
 shadow had crossed the pane. 
 
 "Oh oh!" cried Florentine, putting her head out 
 of the window "Do look !" 
 
 I stuck out my head alongside hers in time to see 
 a fleeing figure. 
 
 98
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 "Who is it?" I demanded stupidly. 
 
 Florentine cried, still leaning from the window. 
 "Oh, he is so exactly like you ; the very image face 
 ngure " 
 
 I had seen enough, but I tried to soothe her. 
 
 "You are overwrought and nervous; it is your 
 fancy." 
 
 "No, no ! Your face, your features, all ; and he 
 looked right into the carriage ; his eyes were not a yard 
 from mine." 
 
 I still tried to quiet her but she was intensely agi- 
 tated. 
 
 "I never saw two people so alike ; he was broad and 
 just your height and his face was feature for fea- 
 ture " 
 
 "Poor devil !" I tried to laugh it off as though it were 
 the hobgoblin of a child. But I had beheld the flying 
 shadow and I was upset myself. 
 
 She did what she could to restore her own calm 
 but it was some minutes before she stopped trembling. 
 
 "What did he want?" she asked, "and why did he 
 stare so hard at you?" 
 
 "He merely wanted to compare features," I replied. 
 
 "And why should there be how is there a man 
 looking just like you in these woods to-night?" 
 
 I replied flippantly, as men do to mask their fears 
 from those they love; but I knew just as she knew 
 that there had disappeared into the woods a man so 
 like me that only my guardian angel could have told 
 us apart. 
 
 "It may have been one of the workmen on the place 
 
 and the likeness " 
 
 99
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "No!" she struck in; "I know them all and they 
 know me!" 
 
 "Then a man from one of the adjoining places " 
 
 "No !" 
 
 It was a mystery unsolved and strange to say it 
 weighed upon us as no preceding happening had done. 
 
 "I hope they will welcome us in spite of the hour," 
 I remarked as though there had been no shadow. 
 
 "No fear of that," she said, steadying her voice, 
 "for I can assure you that my dear old aunts have 
 been nervous enough lest I forfeit the legacy. But 
 they did not to do them justice want me to marry 
 Cousin Charles against whom they have many griev- 
 ances. For one thing they hate him soundly for hav- 
 ing cheated them out of much of their fortune." 
 
 "It is a trick which the victim seldom applauds. 
 There's a hansom in front of the door," I observed, 
 peering ahead. 
 
 "Oh that's Mr. Bradstreet, the lawyer," she ex- 
 plained, looking out. "He is here to arrange matters. 
 You see it is necessary to obtain his consent to our 
 marriage ; also the written consent of the aunts." 
 
 We were approaching the broad stone steps that 
 led to the wide entrance of the Castle in the Woods, 
 and Florentine's forehead had taken an anxious 
 pucker. 
 
 "I think you better stay in the carriage," said she, 
 "until I can go in and explain " 
 
 My wits came to the rescue and I suddenly remem- 
 bered, that while the Ladies Faith, Hope and Charity 
 were expecting Florentine to come and bring a bride- 
 groom, they did not know who the bridegroom might 
 
 TOO
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 be. So, at the very best, my appearance would be in 
 the nature of a surprise to them. 
 
 "Stay," said Florentine, who was proving herself 
 a practical little girl, "I must go ahead and tell them." 
 
 "Why not let me speak for myself?" 
 
 She smiled the same weary little smile. "It is such 
 a distressing situation I could hardly explain it now 
 even if I were not so tired. All three of the sisters 
 and Aunt Hope's husband, Uncle Henry are ter- 
 ribly in debt to Cousin Charles. He led them into his 
 investing schemes, and then, I honestly believe, cheat- 
 ed them out of their money. My fortune if I get 
 married by to-morrow night will put us all out of 
 his reach." 
 
 "Then why not " 
 
 "You stay in the carriage and wait until I come for 
 you," she whispered as I helped her out. She smiled 
 but I noticed that her eyes wandered back along the 
 road as though she feared something or somebody. 
 
 "I can't let you go again," I cried. 
 
 She ran back, her face paling a little and the youth- 
 ful look gone. "I'll come back this time," she whis- 
 pered. "But are you sure you are not afraid of 
 the dreadful secret the one which Aunt Faith told 
 me for the first time to-night?" 
 
 "I shall never ask to hear it," I replied recklessly. 
 To stay back in the cave and wait while the lady goes 
 ahead and fights your dragon for you isn't strictly 
 in line with the professed valor of the knight-errant. 
 But there was nothing else for me to do; so, feeling 
 like a chump, I climbed back in the carriage and 
 mopped my chin, for the bullet had pinged it a little 
 
 101
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 and my forehead smarted as though grazed by lead. 
 
 I saw Florentine's silken drapery disappear inside 
 the door. Then I leaned forward and felt the bullet 
 holes in the glass ; I also secured the black bag, for I 
 wasn't going to leave it behind me to make a scandal 
 in the Castle. Even if I were not acceptable to them 
 I did not want them to think they had entertained a 
 burglar. 
 
 In what seemed an incredibly long time a servant 
 came down and opened the carriage door. I took it 
 for the signal and got out and walked up the stone 
 steps; the broad door swung open and I stepped in- 
 side, into the broad candlelight of Wentstone Castle! 
 Florentine met me as the maid-servant was taking my 
 top coat. 
 
 "J didn't come out," she said, "but I sent the ser- 
 vant for you. They have partially consented as time 
 is now so valuable, on condition that I get a divorce 
 from you directly after the marriage." 
 
 I interrupted her to ask a question. 
 
 "Upon what grounds do you intend to get a 
 divorce ?" 
 
 "Undue influence brought to bear!" 
 
 "Ah," I murmured, but the look that was as pleased 
 as Punch was no longer upon my face. 
 
 "They want to see you first," she whispered, "be- 
 fore they will give their full consent." 
 
 I squeezed her hand by way of reassurance. "They 
 shall see me." 
 
 I was beginning to feel the spirit of the fray; the 
 daring which comes to a man when he is fighting for 
 his family and his fireside. 
 
 102
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 Florentine stepped into the great room on the right 
 and I followed her. It was the state drawing-room of 
 the castle and I noted, though my eye was not search- 
 ing specially for furnishings, that it was filled with 
 magnificent specimens of mahogany and gilt of a by- 
 gone day. So full was it of furniture that, to my eyes, 
 it was curiously reminiscent of a Fifth Avenue antique 
 shop. Drawing-rooms to me reflect the character of 
 the inmates of the house and I could judge the ante- 
 diluvian fussiness of the ladies of Wentstone by the 
 antiquated surroundings. 
 
 In the middle of this great room, standing in a soft 
 lake of purple silk, stood Aunt Hope. 1 knew her at 
 once by the description I had had of her. She was 
 very tall, very thin and upon her face there were writ- 
 ten the lines of a swiftly spent life. Social ambition 
 marked the creases in her much powdered countenance 
 and family pride stamped each puff upon her much 
 be-dressed head. She was evidently the social arbiter 
 of her family. 
 
 "Aunt Hope, this is Mr. Roman Elliott," said Flor- 
 entine, leading me to her and aiming her most win- 
 ning smile at the old lady. Aunt Hope bowed stiffly, 
 but her bony and be-ringed hands did not move. She 
 was taking stock of me before committing herself. 
 
 "Where is Aunt Charity?" asked Florentine. 
 
 "Sister Charity!" called Aunt Hope, "come here. 
 We want you!" 
 
 Out of the rear end of the deep drawing-room came 
 Aunt Charity. She was built in complete contrast to 
 the others of the triplets for she was short, dark and 
 sallow. She was of the type which we might call little 
 
 103
 
 THE STAIRWAY OX THE WALL 
 
 and dried up. But I forgave Aunt Charity, for she 
 came forward holding out her hand to me. It was 
 her left hand, for in her right she carried her Bible, 
 so that she really had to use her left hand. 
 
 "Charity, lay down your Bible for once," exclaimed 
 Aunt Hope impatiently, "and listen to me !" 
 
 "Now, Hope," remonstrated Aunt Charity, "you 
 know how impossible it is for me to remain long. I 
 must read ten chapters before I go to bed, if I'm going 
 to get through the Bible before Mr. Sanction's anni- 
 versary." 
 
 Florentine turned half round so that she could 
 speak into my ear. "The thirtieth anniversary of Mr. 
 Sanction's death occurs next Thursday and Aunt 
 Charity is going to make him a present of another 
 reading through of her Bible. She is reading now for 
 the word Deceit." 
 
 "What will she do with it?" I asked. 
 
 "She will write him a letter telling him how many 
 times she has found the word in the Bible." 
 
 "And where will she put the letter?" I asked, mere- 
 ly to become posted upon the subject of posthumous 
 correspondence 
 
 "Oh, she will take it out to his grave and bury it. 
 She has done it regularly for thirty years." 
 
 Aunt Charity's tart voice was still upon the air. 
 
 "I shall be present at this marriage in case I 
 approve. Buf I doubt very much if I will give my 
 consent." 
 
 "The Rev. Mr. Sanction was gifted with language," 
 hinted Florentine. 
 
 I straightened my shoulders and prepared to use 
 104
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 language. From the dining-room Aunt Hope brought 
 in the family lawyer, Mr. Bradstreet, as old as the 
 best antique in the room, and we made our prepara- 
 tions. 
 
 "We can't go on until Faith comes," declared Aunt 
 Hope, going to the window and looking out. "She 
 is at her town house," she explained to me, "and she 
 half expected a guest for dinner this evening. How- 
 ever, she'll be here in a little while." 
 
 I could have told her that I had interviewed Aunt 
 Faith in town and that the dinner guest hadn't come; 
 also that Aunt Faith would follow very shortly indeed. 
 Even at that moment there was a rumbling of carriage 
 wheels outside and a few minutes later Aunt Faith 
 bustled in. I had a chance now to see them all to- 
 gether, the three Graces, Faith, Hope and Charity, 
 while, in the background stood old Mr. Bradstreet 
 ready to aid and abet. 
 
 Introductions flew around pretty generally, and I 
 was preparing to make my speech, when Aunt Hope 
 suddenly cried: 
 
 "Wait ! We must have your Uncle Henry. Henry 
 is an artist," she explained proudly. 
 
 This remark must have been for my benefit as the 
 rest knew or didn't know it; so a servant was dis- 
 patched to look up the artistic Uncle Henry. I 
 walked around the room cogitating as to my best 
 course of procedure and chanced to be by the hall door 
 just in time to meet the servant coming in. It was 
 the girl who had taken my coat and I had tipped her, 
 which might account for her willingness to exchange 
 conversation with me. 
 
 105
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "Sir Henry can't come, sir," she said, "he's busy 
 making a bath tub, and then he's got to eat his din- 
 ner." 
 
 "Making a bath tub!" I exclaimed. "Is Sir Henry 
 a plumber?" 
 
 "Oh, no, sir," said the girl, "he's a painter and he 
 wants to put the bath tub in the picture before he goes 
 to bed. Then he's got to have his dinner." 
 
 "Didn't he dine with the rest of the family?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "No, sir. He never eats with the rest of the fam- 
 ily. You see, sir, he's a vegetable. He lives on butter- 
 nuts and water cress." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 I went back into the drawing-room with the idea 
 that I had a job before me if I was to reconcile such 
 a variety of personalities to the idea of taking any one 
 person into hearth and home. But, on the other hand, 
 there was the money; and I could faintly scent that 
 money was a little shy in that family. 
 
 Uncle Henry came down a few minutes later. I 
 saw at once that he was the junior of Aunt Hope and 
 that he aspired to live up to his reputation of being a 
 painter. His velvet coat, cloth slippers, butcher's 
 apron, and the palette sticking on his left thumb, told 
 me as much. 
 
 He pulled me on one side, as soon as I had been in- 
 troduced. "When this dreary function is over," he 
 said, "I would be glad to have you come up to my 
 studio. I'm painting a picture " 
 
 Here he gave me a look of great expectancy and I 
 tried to look enthralled with anticipation. 
 
 106
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 "You're interested. Ah, I knew you would be; it 
 is a picture that is to hang in the ladies' gymnasium 
 and swimming baths which Florentine is going to do- 
 nate to the parish." 
 
 I could see where some of Florentine's fortune was 
 to go. 
 
 "The swimming pool isn't ready yet, but it will be 
 by the time my picture is done." 
 
 Eagerly I asked the title of the picture the subject. 
 
 Uncle Henry's face glowed with pleasure. I had 
 made a hit, and had secured an ally. 
 
 "It's partly allegorical ; partly illustrative," he said, 
 "and it is taken from somewhere in the Old Testament, 
 Kings, I think." 
 
 A picture taken from Kings promised to be inter- 
 esting and I pressed him to know more. 
 
 "It's for the swimming pool you know," confided 
 he; "so I've painted a bath tub. In the distance is 
 King David walking on the house-top and in the fore- 
 ground is the wife of Uriah the Hittite, taking a bath. 
 You know David fell in love with her then, wasn't 
 it eh ?" 
 
 I confessed that I didn't remember. 
 
 "Well, you think it's an artistic subject for the wall 
 of a parish house swimming pool, anyway, don't you ?" 
 he questioned anxiously. 
 
 Maybe I did and maybe I didn't, but I wasn't go- 
 ing to say, so I nodded and shook his hand. Aunt 
 Hope was calling us and we returned to the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 "They are a little opposed," whispered Florentine 
 nervously, "and I have told them that you will ex- 
 
 107
 
 plain matters. Don't say too much, but I think you'll 
 have to pretend that you're in love with me for they're 
 all great believers in real love. Can you do it, do you 
 suppose; for, though they are determined that I shall 
 be married, they want me to marry an Englishman 
 or someone in in their set ! Even Sir Charles would 
 be better than an American." 
 
 I glanced at her crimson cheeks and made a hasty 
 decision. 
 
 "See here," I said, taking her arm and leading her 
 off behind the window curtains, a movement easily 
 understood in a man about to marry his lady love, "be- 
 fore we go on with this ridiculous farce I have some- 
 thing to say for myself. I may not be a Hadley of 
 England, but I'm an Elliott of Boston ; and I'm a man 
 in love. And when my time comes to speak to these 
 old ladies, these aunts of yours, I'm going to do my 
 best to win them over. But, if I don't succeed, it isn't 
 going to make one bit of difference to either you or 
 me. You're not going to marry Sir Charles, and he 
 can't get you if he comes here in the morning with a 
 sheriff's posse." 
 
 Florentine looked frightened. 
 
 "I'll keep my part. I'll take possession of your 
 promise to love, honor and obey, and no more; I'll 
 hand back the promise intact; but old ladies or no old 
 ladies, I am going to marry you to-night according to 
 our arrangement. I am not a puppet here to be sent 
 away if they don't fike my looks. I am here as a man 
 who wants to marry the woman he loves yes, the 
 woman he loves! and I'm going to do it, too; if she 
 
 108
 
 THE TOILS OF SIR CHARLES 
 
 doesn't love me enough to cherish and keep, or what- 
 ever it is, why, that's an afterthought !" 
 
 Considering that I am well known for my eloquence 
 in the Court House at home, my speech sounded very 
 flat and tame, but a man can't be expected to do much 
 with his tongue when his heart is in his mouth. 
 
 'Tm afraid you don't understand that I can't 
 marry you unless they are willing. The money does 
 not come to me without their agreement in writ- 
 ing- 
 
 "Let the money go," I broke in. "We do not have 
 to get the consent of anyone. We can get married 
 to-night and ask their permission afterwards. They 
 will be glad enough to give it when they see their for- 
 tune disappearing for you can give it all to them, 
 if you want to, afterwards. Or, if they don't give 
 their consent we can let the fortune go back to Mon- 
 tana !" 
 
 I looked her right in the face and she knew; she 
 knew I loved her; I had nailed my flag to the mast; 
 my colors were in the breeze. 
 
 "I I believe I am more than half in love with you," 
 she said. "If if I were free perfectly free I half 
 believe I'd marry you anyway." 
 
 "Make it three-quarters or I'll refuse to make any 
 speech at all this evening." 
 
 "Well three-quarters, if you wish it, Mr. Ro- 
 man Elliott of Boston. And I'm not sorry you are 
 poor; and I don't care if you do work for a living." 
 
 Extraordinary admission for a girl brought up as 
 she had been. I looked at her squarely and she gave 
 me gaze for gaze. 
 
 109
 
 "But we've got to play our parts; you must get the 
 consent of Aunt Faith, Aunt Hope and Aunt Charity, 
 for, remember reckless fellow that there's a for- 
 tune thrown away if I'm not married by this time to- 
 morrow. And we, our family, must have money. I'm 
 I'm awfully poor." 
 
 Perhaps it was the fortune, and perhaps it was not, 
 that made me turn so readily toward the little group 
 that stood consulting alongside the piano. In the 
 doorway the servants had gathered and Aunt Hope 
 went to close them out. But, as she shut the door 
 in the face of the others, I noticed that she pulled one 
 inside. This woman who impressed me at sight as a 
 sort of upper servant, a combination of servant and 
 companion, was so curiously attired that I could not 
 help staring at her. 
 
 "Oh, that's the Sepoy girl Aunt Hope adopted," 
 whispered Florentine. "She clings, you see, to her 
 native costume. Aunt Hope tried to keep her in In- 
 dia, but she comes back when Cousin Charles is 
 here." 
 
 In answer to my unspoken question she added: 
 
 "She is quite devoted to him. Aunt Hope sent her 
 out to India in his care when she was quite a girl and 
 ever since then you know I told you how she fol- 
 lows him." 
 
 no
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE REV. MR. PAN COAST IS MISSING 
 
 MR. BRADSTREET was clearing his throat 
 and there was no time for more; the old 
 family lawyer was speaking: 
 
 "I understand from these ladies, my clients," said 
 he, standing squarely with hands behind him, and 
 talking as though he were addressing a courtroom, 
 "that you have pretensions for the hand of the Hon- 
 orable Florentine Hadley. According to the will of 
 her second cousin the consent of her aunts must be 
 obtained. The hour is late and it is imperative that 
 the matter be attended to now, as, according to the 
 terms of the will, the marriage must take place before 
 the Honorable Florentine has attained her twenty-first 
 birthday, which will be to-morrow night. Owing to 
 certain engagements and possible interruptions," 
 everybody thought of Sir Charles "we think it ex- 
 pedient that it be gone through with at once. Now, 
 Mr. Elliott, you are a stranger to us, though well in- 
 troduced in London I hear, but just the same, we 
 would like to have you present your case ; we want to 
 know something about you !" 
 
 I stepped out into the middle of the floor and Flor- 
 entine, plucky girl, came over and stood by my side. 
 The little audience took us in from head to foot. I 
 don't know how I looked, but as for Florentine, never 
 
 in
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE IV ALL 
 
 have I seen a lovelier a more distracting sight. I 
 did not dare to let my eyes rest upon her; from the 
 chandelier of candles above us the soft lights fell 
 down upon her hair, turning each silver thread into 
 gleaming gold. That searching upper lighting which 
 annihilates most women only served as a torch to 
 show up Florentine's wonderful beauty. It seemed 
 impossible that she should be there by the side of me. 
 She ought to have been in Heaven on a pink cloud, 
 yet there she stood with downcast eyes, wondering 
 what I could say. I looked at her and knew what I 
 would say ! 
 
 Aunt Faith, Aunt Hope and Aunt Charity stood in 
 a row, side by side; and back of them stood Mr. Brad- 
 street. All eyes were, of course, upon me and the 
 dull black cover of Aunt Charity's Oxford Bible 
 danced before me. In the doorway, patiently waiting 
 to be allowed to go back to his bath tub, stood Uncle 
 Henry. 
 
 Florentine gave a tiny cough which I took for a 
 signal that I was to begin and I opened my mouth 
 and I spoke. I don't know now just exactly what I 
 said, but Florentine declared afterwards that it was 
 the finest burst of eloquence she ever heard ; certainly 
 it reduced all three sisters to tears. Aunt Hope 
 mopped her eyes at the first onslaught, but it was not 
 until I touched upon the unexpected advent of Prince 
 Charming into the life of Florentine cunningly in- 
 timating that I was Prince Charming that Aunt 
 Faith succumbed. Then came Aunt Charity's turn, 
 but she had an obdurate look in her snappy little 
 black eyes ; I reached out my hand for her Bible, and, 
 
 112
 
 THE REV. MR. PANCOAST IS MISSING 
 
 for a minute, I thought she was going to give it to 
 me. But she held on and I let my hand drop. But I 
 spoke Scripture, spouting it as though I had read it 
 through twice a year for the past four decades, and 
 I know now that Aunt Charity could not have done 
 better herself. 
 
 I hinged the whole thing on my love for Florentine 
 And, when I got to the critical stage of the proceed- 
 ing, I stopped short, leaving silence to work out the 
 rest. Then I bent down my head and whispered to 
 Florentine, "Was it all right ?" 
 
 "Ye-es, but I think you really ought to kiss me. 
 Would you mind?" 
 
 Aunt Faith was crying and Aunt Charity had 
 winked off two big tears. 
 
 "Would I mind?" 
 
 I grabbed hold of her with both arms and gave her 
 a good hug. Then I lifted her face to mine and 
 well, maybe I overdid the matter a little, for she wrig- 
 gled herself free: 
 
 "You brute you horrid thing!" she exclaimed, as 
 loud as she dared, "You wretch I'll never, never 
 speak to you again!" 
 
 "What did I do?" I whispered back. "You asked 
 me to!" 
 
 "Do! You you haven't been shaved for a a 
 week !" 
 
 She buried her face in her handkerchief. 
 
 "Haven't been shaved for a week !" I gasped. 
 
 This was a pretty state of affairs, a manifest injus- 
 tice and a case of rank ingratitude. Hadn't been
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 shaved for a week! My Japanese valet would have 
 left me without notice if he had heard. 
 
 The three Graces and Mr. Bradstreet had gone in- 
 to executive session and we were unobserved. 
 
 I looked at Florentine. The tip of one ear, pink 
 and impenitent, showed above the tiny lace absurdity 
 with which she was soothing her cheek ; something 
 must be done. Florentine was going to be my wife ; 
 that was certain. But I wanted an agreeable wife, 
 not a vixen ; a reasonable one, not a shrew. 
 
 And here she was on the very day of our marriage, 
 our wedding day, calling me names and libeling me 
 to my face, just because I had kissed her perhaps a 
 little too enthusiastically. It must be stopped at once 
 not the kissing, but the libel. Suppose I were to let 
 this this insult pass, w ? hat would happen? to what 
 would it lead? I glanced at her again. She was 
 touching her nose with the bit of lace ; I never noticed 
 before how saucy a tilt a perfect little Grecian nose 
 can take. She glanced sideways and actually sniffed 
 at me. 
 
 "I said you might take one; you took seventeen!" 
 
 "Seventeen ! I'll swear it was only " 
 
 I stopped right there ; suppose I did take seventeen ; 
 what of it, and why not? A pretty circumstance if I 
 could not kiss my own wife seventeen kisses. 
 
 My mind traveled ahead into that future far be- 
 yond the old drawing-room and its assembled an- 
 tiques; far away into a world of at least Florentine 
 and me. And I could not kiss her ! No, it would not 
 do ; she must be disciplined and now ; it was the time 
 to teach her to respect a husband. 
 
 114
 
 THE REV. MR. PANCOAST IS MISSING 
 
 I looked at the lovely pink and silver image by my 
 side; she had said, "You haven't been shaved for a 
 week!" And a wife should be taught the unpopular- 
 ity of such an accusation. Her profile was turned 
 from me, but oh, how pretty she was ! One must not 
 be too severe after all ; so I bent and whispered : 
 
 "I would not say such a thing to you." 
 
 She buried her face in her handkerchief. 
 
 "Forgive me," I begged, "forgive me I didn't 
 mean it of course I would " 
 
 Her shoulders shook; she was laughing. She was 
 laughing. Such a wife would be impervious to dis- 
 cipline. 
 
 I looked across the room. Aunt Faith was still 
 wiping her eyes and thinking of Prince Charming ; 
 Aunt Hope had her hand on Uncle Henry's shoulder 
 and was as near him as the paint palette on his thumb 
 would permit. 
 
 But Aunt Charity's beady eyes were upon me. 
 
 "I wish to speak," she declared. 
 
 "Charity!" interposed Aunt Hope. 
 
 "It is best to utter my sentiments our sentiments 
 now," she continued. "There are things which should 
 be told." 
 
 Florentine gave a little gasp and turned white. 
 
 "I do not want to hear them; that is, they are al- 
 ready known to me," I volunteered. 
 
 "I do not 'believe it," said Aunt Charity calmly, 
 "and there is no lie as wicked as a deliberate lie." 
 
 "Charity," remonstrated Aunt Faith. 
 
 But Aunt Charity was not to be stopped. 
 
 "We have this day, only," she resumed, "come into
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 certain information regarding our niece, the Honor- 
 able Florentine Hadley. Up to this time we had sup- 
 posed her to be a suitable match for any title in Eng- 
 land." 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Charity," pleaded Florentine. 
 
 "She is far too good for most of your titles," I 
 ejaculated, "and I will not hear more." 
 
 "But to-day, for the first time," went on the im- 
 placable Charity, "we are placed in possession of in- 
 formation which, if true and Sister Faith says that 
 Cousin Charles proved it to her makes our niece 
 unfit, unworthy; in other words, Mr. Elliott, only a 
 nobody like yourself would marry her." 
 
 "You are a demon, and I wouldn't believe you or 
 Sir Charles under oath," were some of the foolish 
 words I uttered, but they were fortunately drowned 
 out by Florentine's voice. 
 
 "Don't I beg Aunt Charity," sobbed she. She 
 had hidden her face in her hands and was weeping 
 with a violence and an abandon that unnerved my 
 very soul. 
 
 "You might as well face it," said the relentless 
 Charity. "She is degraded." 
 
 "Stop," I cried. 
 
 "Yet her cousin, Sir Charles, forgetting his proud 
 position as head of our family, is willing to stoop to 
 marry her." 
 
 It was well she spoke his name, for at mention of 
 Sir Charles, Florentine flung her head proudly up. 
 
 "I refuse to accept his sacrifice!" she declared. 
 
 "And I don't care for Sir Charles, nor for all his 
 documentary evidence," I exclaimed. 
 
 116
 
 THE REV. MR. PANCOAST IS MISSING 
 
 My tone was a little more threatening than I in- 
 tended, and Charity subsided; but I was quite willing 
 to forgive myself any rudeness if it had the effect of 
 shutting her up. 
 
 Florentine was the first to find her voice. 
 
 "I will not marry Mr. Elliott or anyone else," she 
 ejaculated. 
 
 A dead silence fell, broken by Aunt Faith. 
 
 "The Rev. Mr. Pancoast is on his way here to per- 
 form the ceremony." 
 
 "He can return," said Florentine hotly. Then, as 
 her eyes fell on my own face flushed and indignant, 
 she became more calm. "Isn't he a long time?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Do not libel Jephtha's Daughter," I reminded her, 
 and then I remembered that he ought to be here, even 
 if Jephtha's Daughter had stopped and lain down for 
 a beauty sleep. 
 
 Cousin Irene it seemed a thousand ages ago had 
 told me about the beauty sleep as known in Boston. 
 She said it was unnecessary if a woman wears square 
 toed shoes and counts her proteids, but Cousin Irene 
 isn't an old horse. 
 
 Aunt Charity still had the floor. 
 
 "Perhaps I better go and search for him," I said, 
 ignoring her. It is pretty dark down that winding 
 road and " 
 
 Suppose the Rev. Mr. Pancoast should have encoun- 
 tered the difficulties which had beset us in our jour- 
 ney through the woods of Wentstone ! 
 
 Florentine and I looked at each other; we were 
 both so wrought up that the littles worried us. 
 
 117
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "There is a piece of skin off your forehead," said 
 she, "and there's blood on your handkerchief." 
 
 "Oh, that's where one of those bullets pinked me," 
 I replied easily, "but it wasn't more than a graze; it 
 matches the one on my chin." 
 
 "I wonder what has become of Mr. Pancoast?" she 
 repeated. 
 
 "I'm going to look for him." 
 
 Florentine nodded, but the anxious look came back 
 into her face. 
 
 "You are willing to let him marry us?" I asked. 
 
 After some talk I drew out of her that she was 
 willing but feared that Sir Charles would murder 
 me; it was plain that the poor girl though she knew 
 her own mind was rent by conflicting emotions. 
 
 118
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A MYSTERY AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 1 TURNED to the Graces and explained matters 
 and they were for sending the old manservant 
 down the road to look for the clergyman. 
 
 But to this I objected. 
 
 "The carriage is waiting," I said, "and I will drive 
 down and find him. He is probably not far away." 
 
 I slipped into my coat and had my hand on the 
 door knob when Florentine touched me on the arm. 
 
 "I can't bear to have you go, but if you do go, I 
 want to go with you." She picked up her cloak, "I 
 really do, and I am going." 
 
 Seeing my face, she put both hands timidly on my 
 arm: 
 
 "Don't refuse me. I can't let you go alone I shall 
 worry so, because I am responsible for having brought 
 you here." 
 
 It was against my judgment, but with her still 
 clinging to my arm, I opened the door. A swift wind 
 blew out the candles in the chandelier and I put my 
 arm around Florentine to steady her. The rain had 
 stopped and the stars were winking forth but it was 
 chilly. 
 
 I looked at the foot of the steps for the carriage but 
 it was not there ; I whistled, but it did not appear. 
 
 "He must have gone/' I chattered, for the wind 
 H9
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 went through us. "Never mind, the road is a short 
 one and I can run down and back in half an hour. 
 But you must stay here. And I will take that black bag 
 of burglar's tools it seems awkward to leave it here 
 with you." 
 
 "But what will you do with it ?" 
 
 "Leave it in the woods to be called for by the 
 rightful or the wrongful owners." 
 
 Florentine agreed and I opened the big door and put 
 her back in the house. As it was closing, she stuck 
 her head out and this time she didn't have to ask 
 me! 
 
 I started whistling down the winding road. A few 
 yards from the house it took an abrupt turn so that 
 the house disappeared except for the windows which 
 looked like squares of yellow light shining through 
 the trees. It was not until I had made the turn that 
 I noticed the weight of the black bag in my hand. The 
 road led slightly downward and I quickened my pace 
 to a run for I thought of Florentine and her natural 
 misgivings after our experiences in these same woods 
 that night. 
 
 Even as I hurried along I was conscious of the feel- 
 ing that for the first time in my life I knew what it 
 was to live in two worlds a woman's world and a 
 man's. I turned and looked back at the Castle ; the 
 squares of yellow were faintly visible and against one 
 of them I thought I saw Florentine's face silhouetted, 
 and she was worrying about me. This would not do ; 
 I must shake it off; the thought of Florentine took 
 away my courage and made me long to turn and rush 
 back to her. 
 
 1 20
 
 A MYSTERY AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 I stumbled ahead over the road which was poor. 
 The weakened finances of the family had allowed it 
 to get into sad disrepair. I stepped into a hole, re- 
 gained my footing and stumbled again! Again I 
 tripped on something was it a rope? and, while I 
 was trying to catch myself, I tripped again and this 
 time I fell flat on my face stretched full across some- 
 thing that filled the road. 
 
 I felt myself grasping a warm body. I stretched 
 out my hands and they touched something all rough 
 and hairy like a skin rug. I rolled awkwardly off 
 and struggled to my feet, slipping in a soft and sticky 
 pool. By chance I found a match in the pocket of my 
 dress coat and I struck it and looked around. The 
 flame wavered in the wind but I coaxed it. 
 
 At my feet lay that over which I had fallen, a great 
 bay horse, and I was wading in a puddle of dark red 
 blood. I tried to take a step but the reins in which I 
 had stumbled were tangled around my ankles. 
 
 I struck the horse with my fist in the hope that a 
 movement would help me to extricate myself from 
 the tangle of reins in which I had become unwittingly 
 twisted; there was no motion; I lifted its head, tug- 
 ging at the mane, but it fell back heavily. The horse 
 was old and the story of Jephtha's Daughter flashed 
 through my mind, as I shaded my eyes to look at 
 the animal while I worked myself loose from the 
 lines. 
 
 There was a dark object beyond, and groping my 
 way to it, I found it to be an overturned buggy which 
 had been pitched violently on its side so that it 
 blocked the road. "J e ptoha' s Daughter did not die 
 
 121
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 without a struggle," I said, as I saw the shattered 
 top. 
 
 I had no more matches, but I peered into the buggy 
 as best I could. There, half lying on the ground and 
 half pinned under the wheels lay a person. 
 
 It was an old man, his face turned sharply upward. 
 
 Was he alive? I pulled at his arms, but I could 
 not free him, his legs were caught fast underneath, as 
 though he had been getting out of the buggy when it 
 overturned. I exerted all my strength to raise it but 
 it was a hopeless task. 
 
 In the road ahead lay a great white stone and I 
 ran to fetch it, half rolling and half carrying it to the 
 buggy. With tremendous effort I tried now to lift 
 the wagon upon it, but the wheels rolled backward, 
 sending the old man's shoulders heavily to the ground. 
 I looked around for a pole to use as a lever but none 
 was in sight. Then, for the first time, I thought of 
 the black bag. In it were the heavy burglar's tools 
 at which Florentine had had one horrified glance 
 and among these were surely some that would be of 
 use to me now! I felt devoutly grateful that I had 
 brought it. 
 
 I looked around for the bag. It had fallen out of 
 my hand when I stumbled over the horse and its con- 
 tents lay scattered in the road. I searched around. 
 There was a jimmy, a knife, a lantern and, yes, the 
 very article I wanted for leverage, an iron bar. There 
 was also a flask of whiskey. 
 
 I slipped the stout little iron bar under the buggy, 
 braced it against the stone as a fulcrum, and leaned 
 my weight upon it. Slowly it lifted and I put the 
 
 122
 
 A MYSTERY AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 wrench underneath, fixing it crudely but firmly, so as 
 to hold the buggy up. I was panting now from the 
 exertion but, looking underneath, I had the satisfac- 
 tion of seeing that I would be able to free the old man 
 from its weight, for he had not, after all, been pinned 
 under the heaviest part of the wagon but rather held 
 down by its broken and torn old sides. 
 
 I searched my pockets for another match by what 
 ill luck was I in a dress suit when I had a highway- 
 man's work to do ? and yes, here was one ! I struck 
 it and the light flashed up. I picked up the flask, un- 
 screwed the top and leaned forward with it in my 
 hand. A drop trickled into the old man's mouth. 
 
 I lifted my head to take a breath and crash ! From 
 the back there came a blow that set my head spin- 
 ning I fell forward and I could feel the whiskey or 
 was it blood trickling over my hands? Crack! An- 
 other blow! But it did not stun me for I was on my 
 feet in a second, striking out to right and left. I was 
 in the midst of a melee ; a crowd of men seemed to 
 have come mysteriously from somewhere. There was 
 no time for fighting tactics for they were closing in 
 around me and I was being showered with blows. 
 The stars seemed to have gone under but I could see 
 darting, shadowy forms in the blackness and, even in 
 my dizziness, I heard voices as I charged among 
 them, splintering arms and jaws. The road was full 
 and there were lanterns flashing and loud cries were 
 in the air. 
 
 I do not know how long the combat lasted but I 
 know that there were many lying in the road and that 
 my fists were lame and swollen for days afterwards. 
 
 123
 
 A blow on the tip of the chin sent my head back- 
 ward and I felt my wrists clutched. With a quick 
 jerk I freed them and grabbed the arms of my assail- 
 ant. The man was bigger than I, but I had his arms 
 pinned to his side and was pushing him backwards. 
 If I could twist his right wrist I would put him out of 
 the fighting and there would be one less. We grap- 
 pled and I forced him backward. He hit forward at 
 me with his head and I handed him an uppercut 
 that sent him down. He gave a cry and at that mo- 
 ment, a shrill whistle cut the air, to be answered by 
 another whistle in the distance. 
 
 I could not look as I was rushing my man backward 
 and we were near the edge of the road where it 
 dropped into a ravine, yet I could feel that he was 
 gaining upon me. 
 
 What would have happened next I do not know, 
 but a flash of light blinded me, and, simultaneously, I 
 felt my arms grabbed and pinioned to my sides while 
 around my ankles there was thrown something that 
 held them fast. 
 
 "Hold him, hold him !" I heard some one shout ; 
 and then came a confusion of cries and whistles, out 
 of which a loud, harsh, rasping voice made itself 
 heard. 
 
 "You can see for yourself, Constable," rasped the 
 voice, "that I caught him in the act; came up just in 
 the nick of time." 
 
 "What's all this?" demanded the Constable, throw- 
 ing his light in my face, and directing his question at 
 me. 
 
 "Ask him, he evidently knows more about it than 
 124
 
 A MYSTERY AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 I do," I muttered, gasping and trying to get my men- 
 tal bearings. 
 
 "We caught him in the act of murdering this old 
 man and adding robbery to his crime. That's enough 
 to hang him without any more." 
 
 "That's a lie, I 
 
 "Bind him tight," interrupted the man, "he's des- 
 perate." 
 
 I was indeed in a desperate state but not in exactly 
 the way my aggressor intimated. My head was dizzy 
 and the pain in my right arm was stinging. The ropes 
 cut my wrists and my ankles were bound with more 
 energy than human kindness. 
 
 The rasping voice, evidently that of the leader, spoke 
 again : 
 
 "I was passing here with some of the servants from 
 the Castle when I heard sounds of a struggle, we ran 
 in this direction and arrived just as this ruffian was 
 rifling the pockets of this old man, who was already 
 dead as you see him now stone dead !" 
 
 "Who is this man?" asked the Constable, stooping 
 down and lifting the fallen head. 
 
 "No use asking about him now," exclaimed my ac- 
 cuser. "He's dead ; done for, murdered ! Fortunately 
 I caught the murderer before he got away. I'll wager 
 a gold coin he intended to rob the Castle afterwards, 
 and maybe, murder us all in our beds." 
 
 The tone was familiar and I was coming out of my 
 daze. My head was gradually clearing and I realized 
 that I had heard the voice before and that very eve- 
 ning. I leaned forward and looked into the face of 
 the man standing so near me, making a big hateful 
 
 125
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 shadow in the night ; yes, I was not mistaken ; I knew 
 him! It was Sir Charles and upon his countenance 
 there was a worse look than it had been my ill for- 
 tune to see before. 
 
 "What does this mean, you blackguard?" I shouted 
 at him. "You know you are lying that every word 
 is a falsehood." 
 
 He jumped to one side but the cords on my arms 
 held. 
 
 "What does this mean?" 1 repeated, looking at the 
 Constable and speaking more collectedly. "I was 
 walking hurriedly along the road when I stumbled 
 over an object. I stooped to examine it, and, the next 
 moment, I was surrounded and attacked ; and, now, I 
 am in the hands of the law, accused of murder." 
 
 The Constable looked thick-headedly at Sir Charles 
 as though expecting him to prompt an answer. 
 
 "That's a likely tale," sneered the nobleman. 
 
 "Ask him what he is doing out here in the woods 
 with the servants from the Castle, at this hour of 
 the night," I exclaimed. 
 
 "Ask him what he is doing here with that big black 
 bag," demanded Sir Charles, picking up the jimmy 
 and indicating the other scattered weapons. 
 
 Luckily, thought I, he does not know that I have 
 the pistol in my pocket, where I had slipped it when 
 Florentine and I had opened the bag in the cab; and, 
 to tell the truth, I had forgotten it myself. 
 
 Sir Charles turned his head sideways and smiled 
 his crooked smile. 
 
 126
 
 A 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 SIR CHARLES IS DISCONCERTED 
 
 COLD-BLOODED and high-handed pro- 
 ceeding," exclaimed some one in the 
 crowd. 
 
 "Cold-blooded ! I should say so," cried Sir Charles, 
 shaking his fist at me. "And desperate ! Why, the 
 wretch would have killed us all if he had had a 
 chance. He has stunned or killed a half dozen of my 
 servants and your men." 
 
 As they were all beginning to show signs of life 
 and getting to their feet, though in a state of more or 
 less damage, I had no compunction about having taken 
 human life. Anyhow my plea of self-defence would 
 have squared matters with my conscience and Flor- 
 entine. 
 
 Florentine! Always Florentine! 
 
 "Better search him for weapons," suggested some 
 one. As I had both hands tied, I decided to offer no 
 objections and the pistol was pulled out of my pocket. 
 
 Sir Charles took possession of it. 
 
 "Just as I expected," he exclaimed, as he examined 
 it, turning his back and looking sharply into it. 
 
 I watched him and saw him do an odd thing ; he 
 put it in the outside pocket of his coat. 
 
 "He has another in his hip," I thought ; and I had 
 reason to confirm this opinion afterwards. 
 
 127
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "As I was saying, we were struggling to overpower 
 the brute when I heard your whistle which I an- 
 swered; then you came up and " 
 
 "I was out for poachers," interrupted the Consta- 
 ble, "and hearing you, I hastened over." 
 
 "Very fortunate all around very fortunate but 
 come, let us be moving ; we can't stand here all night." 
 Sir Charles finished like a man who does not know 
 what to say next. I tugged at my bonds, for the 
 temptation to poke my fist into his face was too 
 strong to have been overcome could 1 have got my 
 hand free; but they had tied me with the leather 
 reins. 
 
 "Fortunate enough !" exclaimed the Constable. 
 "Well, come along. We might as well leave the old 
 man here until we can get a board or wagon." Then, 
 turning his attention to me, "Loosen his feet so he can 
 walk and let him have his arms." 
 
 "No no, not his arms!" remonstrated Sir Charles. 
 "Better keep him cuffed to somebody." As he spoke 
 he touched his vest pocket, pressing and patting it 
 as though it were a precious thing. 
 
 It was a new movement this touching of the pocket 
 of his vest in an important manner and the solici- 
 tousness of it caught my attention. Was it a new 
 eccentricity of the Baronet affectionately to caress the 
 pocket of his vest? Or did the vest pocket contain a 
 valuable possession? It was a matter over which I 
 did not have to ponder long. 
 
 "Come along," said the Constable, turning our faces 
 toward the high road. "I'll take the risk of loosen- 
 ing him up a bit," he continued doggedly. "I think, 
 
 128
 
 SIR CHARLES IS DISCONCERTED 
 
 Sir Charles, you had better come, too, as a witness and 
 for for identification," he went on, "as we do not 
 know who this man is and ic is necessary " 
 
 The Constable was in evident doubt as to the proper 
 procedure for him to follow in murder cases. And, 
 again, he turned to Sir Charles for assistance. 
 
 That villain looked me over coolly from head to 
 foot and back again. 
 
 "I think I have seen this man before," said he, "but 
 I'm not positive. He has been spending the evening 
 at the Castle evidently," with a perfectly hideous 
 leer at me "and I think we better conduct him back 
 there to be identified. Possibly he is not unknown to 
 my cousin, the Honorable Florentine Hadley, and in 
 that case she will assist us in the work of identifica- 
 tion." 
 
 "You ill-starred liar," I managed to say to him, 
 but I did not dare to say it loudly nor violently, for 
 Florentine had been mentioned and I must not drag 
 in her name if it could be kept out. But, oh, how I 
 did long for ten free fingers with which to choke the 
 tongue out of Sir Charles ! 
 
 "You ruffian !" I gasped. Then I shut my mouth 
 and kept it shut, for it is a wise thing to keep still in 
 a tongue fight. 
 
 "Ask him what he intended to do with this." 
 
 Sir Charles lifted the bottle of chloroform and 
 shook it in the Constable's face. 
 
 The Constable glanced from one to the other and I 
 thought he appeared to be wavering. Perhaps it was 
 only my fancy but I could have said that he hated and 
 feared Sir Charles. 
 
 129
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Sir Charles uncorked the bottle and a faint sweet 
 whiff smote our nostrils. "Enough here to put 
 twenty men to sleep," he observed. 
 
 "I'd like to bet you've done some good work in 
 town to-night," he sneered, looking at me. "I'll take 
 chances that you've helped yourself to a diamond or 
 so." 
 
 My heart stopped beating though I would not have 
 dared to say why, but I found the voice to re- 
 tort: 
 
 "If the diamonds have been stolen I'll know where 
 to look." 
 
 Perhaps I hit the bull's-eye, for there was a flush. 
 
 "You better come along," said the Constable. 
 
 "You haven't asked him yet what he was doing 
 here with the servants at this hour of the night," I 
 demanded, and then, in a lower tone, I muttered to 
 Sir Charles : "I'll settle with you later about that black 
 bag and its contents." 
 
 It was dark, but I know Sir Charles paled. 
 
 "Ask him," I cried, as though I were the accuser 
 and he the accused. 
 
 The Constable looked at Sir Charles, repeating the 
 question dummylike. 
 
 "My carriage broke down part way from London," 
 explained that gentlemanly villain, easily. "And as 
 I was going to the Castle I concluded to try the rest 
 of the way on foot; I came along quite noiselessly 
 and, as I reached this part of the road, I heard voices. 
 Of course I stopped to listen. There were pistol shots 
 and a struggle and I knew that somebody had been 
 hurt, perhaps mortally." 
 
 130
 
 SIR CHARLES IS DISCONCERTED 
 
 "What what did you do then?" asked the Con- 
 stable. 
 
 "I hurried to the Castle to get help, for, of course, 
 I could do nothing by myself alone," and the ruffian 
 held up his mutilated hand, wrapped in the white 
 handkerchief: "So, as rapidly as possible, I went for 
 assistance. When we arrived on the scene we found 
 that murder had been committed. This man," indicat- 
 ing me with a wave of his bad hand, "was bending 
 over his victim and searching his pockets for plun- 
 der." 
 
 "You are a liar," I yelled, forgetting prudence, 
 "and you know it ; I'd like to kill you this minute." 
 
 The word had an electrical effect upon the Consta- 
 ble. It was as if I had already committed the act. 
 
 "You are right, Sir Charles, sir!" said he, tipping 
 his hat and getting back some of his manner. 
 "We will go back to the Castle. Maybe for all 
 we know there's been murder done there." 
 
 "Very likely! I'd like to bet money on it." 
 
 I'd have taken up his bet, but I bet with gentlemen 
 only. So the procession turned and we started back, 
 with Sir Charles walking ahead with the black bag and 
 the lantern, the latter curiously hung from his de- 
 formed hand; while the Constable and his men and 
 I followed after. 
 
 We had gone only a few steps when a sound in the 
 sidebrush of the road brought us to a halt. Sir 
 Charles stepped aside. 
 
 "Go on without me," he called. "I'll follow. Don't 
 let him get away, Constable." 
 
 We stepped along but I managed to turn my head.
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 My hat was gone and my collar was wrenched loose, 
 while a sleeve of my coat was torn from its fastenings, 
 but my wits were with me. So bruised and dishevelled 
 was I that I could not turn comfortably ; but from the 
 tail of my eye I caught a glimpse of a flying skirt of 
 brilliant colors, and of a woman with something odd 
 wound around her head. Sir Charles tried to hide her 
 from my gaze, but I saw her put one arm around his 
 neck or was the starlight playing me a feeble trick 
 and draw his head down. 
 
 An idea, or rather an association of ideas flashed 
 through my mind. 
 
 "Step lively," said one of the men, giving my al- 
 ready twisted arm a jerk. 
 
 "Step lively, yourself," I retorted. 
 
 But, having asserted my independence, I did step 
 livelier, not only because it was expedient to do so, 
 but because I wanted to get back to Florentine, to 
 whgm the news of the new work of deviltry might 
 have traveled ahead. And that is why, when I again 
 turned my head to look, the woman had disappeared, 
 and Sir Charles was following with the lantern swing- 
 ing from his mutilated hand. 
 
 He looked so hateful, so utterly devilish, that I 
 could not resist the temptation that popped into my 
 mind to insult him. 
 
 "Was that your Sepoy?" I shouted. 
 
 He did not or would not hear. And, so, we plodded 
 back toward the Castle. 
 
 132
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE FLASH OF A DIAMOND 
 
 VARIOUS thoughts, and not very happy ones 
 at that, went through my mind. Had the 
 news been broken to Florentine? And how 
 would she take it? Would she swoon as girls do in 
 books and believe the worst of me? Would she 
 take fright at my appearance and think me the rascal 
 Sir Charles would paint me? Was she of the stuff 
 to be moulded by the caprice of another? Could she 
 continue to believe in me in spite of the evidence 
 which I now saw would be considerable? 
 
 But, and here was the maddening thought, how 
 about her marriage our marriage and how about 
 Sir Charles! That he had determined to marry her 
 at any hazard was now perfectly clear to me, and 
 that he would stop at nothing life, death, robbery, 
 nor any other thing was equally evident. With me 
 out of the way he might be able to force her into it, 
 for, though the aunts hated him, they also feared him, 
 and I had no faith, anyway, in their moral strength 
 to resist. 
 
 My poor darling! It was not on my account that 
 I was troubled, but on hers ; with nerves weakened 
 by the shock of the last twenty-four hours, would she 
 give way ? For her to give way meant certain triumph 
 for Sir Charles. But I would at least have time for 
 
 133
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 a word with her, a look, a sign of love, a whisper of 
 courage, and, more than all, a hint of warning. 
 
 We were approaching the Castle ; already we had 
 made the sharp turn in the road, and Florentine, with 
 her face pressed against the square of yellow light in 
 the drawing-room, had seen us coming. For a min- 
 ute she stared hard, then seeing me all torn and 
 bloody she told me afterwards that she thought I 
 was dead she buried her face in her hands. But it 
 was only for a second. A minute later, as we came up 
 the broad walk and were mounting the Castle steps, 
 she stood in the doorway, brave and ready. 
 
 Though it was hardly the time nor place to take 
 note of a lady's appearance, I want to record the fact 
 that never had I seen so beautiful a vision. If she 
 had been a Lorelei she would have led men on to their 
 doom ; but being an angel it was evident she was put 
 there to point the way toward salvation. 
 
 Never did so gruesome a company behold so lovely 
 a sight. Her calmness was in strange contrast to our 
 quarrelsome discord. 
 
 She had thrown off her cloak and her exquisite 
 neck and arms gleamed white against the yellow 
 glow of the open doorway. Her hair, always like 
 spun silver, was burnished into frosted gold by the 
 candle flashes and her eyes, great beautiful eyes, were 
 soft with a message which meant much to me. She was 
 white and her lips, a bright ripe red, when last I saw 
 them, were pale. But she was quite composed. I 
 noted with joy, even at that moment that she was 
 the sort of woman who grows cool and courageous 
 in the face of trouble. Only in her eyes there was 
 
 134
 
 THE FLASH OF A DIAMOND 
 
 a flash of terror, and when she saw Sir Charles, she 
 trembled. 
 
 Once did her nerve fail her and then only for a 
 moment. When she saw me, she gave a cry and ran 
 forward. I thought she was going to throw herself 
 upon me. Sir Charles saw it too and I heard him 
 curse under his breath. 
 
 "Florentine, go into the house," he ordered. 
 
 She hesitated and looked at me. A motion of my 
 head told her to go. 
 
 "And lock up your pearls," he called after her. 
 "We've got a robber here and a murderer; you don't 
 know him as well as I do." 
 
 Sir Charles looked at her with what he intended 
 for a smile but which ended in a leer. 
 
 "Florentine," he said, as low as his rasping voice 
 would permit, "he is a knave and I can prove it." 
 
 "I think if I know the gentleman he will give 
 you a chance to prove it some day," she retorted with 
 a spirit which surprised me. 
 
 It took Sir Charles by surprise also, for he flushed 
 purple. "Wait, Florentine," he uttered thickly, "I've 
 got something for you a present." 
 
 It was his one soft spot, his one good trait that he 
 loved Florentine. He whispered, and I could have 
 sworn that he said a wedding present, for Florentine 
 tossed her head angrily. 
 
 With fumbling fingers he searched the pocket of 
 his vest on the left side he could not search with 
 the right hand and out of it he drew a small object. 
 It was not so very little, either, but it looked small as 
 he fumbled it in his awkward left hand fingers. 
 
 135
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 So this was the treasure he had been affectionately 
 and proudly patting in the pocket of his vest ! 
 
 He held it up until it caught the light. 
 
 "It is for you, Florentine," he said, "a present for 
 you." 
 
 He turned it in his hand and a spark of light from 
 within the house fell upon it. Instantly I saw it flash ; 
 it was a diamond, a diamond of wonderful size and 
 of remarkable brilliancy. 
 
 "How beautiful !" was Florentine's involuntary ex- 
 clamation as he extended it toward her. 
 
 "Take it!" 
 
 "It is a lovely stone," said the girl, drawing back 
 her hand, "but I do not want it from you." 
 
 "The Devil !" he exclaimed. And then he muttered 
 something low. It sounded as though he said, "I'll 
 make you pay for this insult." 
 
 Then lifting the diamond high, so that its flash 
 could be seen for a long distance he let the light play 
 upon it. 
 
 "Look !" he cried, turning to the men. He must 
 have been intoxicated with vanity to make -such a dis- 
 play. "Look ! A wedding present for the Honorable 
 Miss Hadley, a diamond worth a king's ransom !" 
 
 There was a rustle in the brush, a sharp rustle, 
 which both Florentine and I distinctly heard. She 
 looked quickly and I followed her eyes, but we could 
 see nothing. A murmur from the men rose as they 
 crowded around to see. 
 
 "It's worth the whole county," bragged Sir 
 Charles ; "and it shall grace the brow of my bride, 
 the Honorable Florentine Hadley." 
 
 136
 
 THE FLASH OF A DIAMOND 
 
 Florentine caught his last words and glanced con- 
 temptuously at him ; then turning to go into the house 
 she looked back and deliberately laughed ! 
 
 Sir Charles choked with anger but he lifted the 
 diamond again. 
 
 "A wedding present for my bride !" 
 
 It caught the light once more and its flash flew 
 wide, bringing forth an involuntary exclamation from 
 the crowd. 
 
 Then Sir Charles put it back in his vest pocket. 
 
 As he did so both Florentine and I turned in the 
 direction of the brush from which there came a dis- 
 tinct crackling. 
 
 How we got into the Castle I don't remember. But 
 I know that, in an incredibly short space of time, we 
 were in the hallway with Aunt Faith, Aunt Hope and 
 Aunt Charity standing around me, and Uncle Henry 
 filling up the background. Mr. Bradstreet was there, 
 and the family servants were huddled in a frightened 
 group, while the Constable's posse stood guard over all. 
 
 They were all talking at once, and in the melee 
 and the mix-up, Florentine slipped to my side and I 
 bent my head low enough for her to whisper in my 
 ear. Her lips managed to touch my face and she 
 spoke softly to me. Sir Charles had disappeared or 
 we would not have had this minute's whisper. 
 
 "There's a revolver in his coat pocket," I said 
 softly. "Get it and hide it in your bodice." 
 
 She disappeared in the crowd, for there were at 
 least twenty men of us and, when she reappeared, she 
 touched her bosom to show me that she had hidden it 
 there. 
 
 137
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 But now the commotion began ; they were talking 
 and gesturing and arguing. In the midst of it all, I 
 could make out that Sir Charles wanted me locked up 
 for murder. He, himself, was perfectly willing to 
 bear testimony that he had been an eye-witness of the 
 crime. He had seen me murder the Rev. Mr. Pan- 
 coast. His object now apparent in bringing me 
 to the Castle was to have Florentine see me all bloody 
 and battered, and to let her hear me accused of crime. 
 He thought that, if he could get me locked up, even 
 for a few hours, he would be able to bring enough 
 pressure to bear upon Florentine to force her to 
 marry him. But he did not know Florentine. 
 
 It has always been my opinion that, if men \vere 
 better listeners there would be more men in Para- 
 dise. If they would hear the voice of the woman 
 who loves them she would lead them straight to the 
 Celestial Gate, past all this earth's pitfalls, right into 
 Heaven itself. I believe that the men who succeed 
 are those who have asked a woman to tell them how 
 to succeed, and I know that at least one who is out of 
 prison has managed to keep out because of a woman's 
 intercession. 
 
 At the mention of the Rev. Mr. Pancoast's name, 
 Florentine exclaimed: 
 
 "Poor, dear, old Mr. Pancoast, where is he?" 
 
 "Lying in the road, where this villain left him," an- 
 swered Sir Charles, indicating me with a hideous ges- 
 ture. 
 
 "But we cannot, surely, leave him lying there. We 
 must go and get him and bring him to the Castle." 
 
 138
 
 THE FLASH OF A DIAMOND 
 
 "No use, your Ladyship," said the Constable. "He's 
 dead, stiff, stark dead! And his horse, too!" 
 
 "Poor old Jephtha's Daughter! But we must not 
 leave Mr. Pancoast lying out in the road, it is ter- 
 rible, inhuman ! We must bring him here until he 
 can be taken home." 
 
 "What's the use of bothering with a dead man," 
 growled Sir Charles. 
 
 Florentine shot an indignant glance at him. 
 
 "We must go and bring his body here," said she, 
 "and I am going with you. Uncle Henry will accom- 
 pany us, will you not, Uncle Henry?" 
 
 Uncle Henry acquiesced and while Uncle Henry 
 was saying that he would go with her, Florentine 
 had darted up the stairs and was gone. I looked at 
 Uncle Henry; mechanically, he was taking the palette 
 off his thumb; and Aunt Hope, whose sympathies 
 were with Florentine, was finding his hat and coat. 
 
 "I wanted to show you that picture of the bath- 
 tub," said Uncle Henry, looking at me wistfully. 
 
 "Wait awhile," I said, for it was evidently not the 
 hour for any art criticism. 
 
 Florentine was back in an incredibly short space of 
 time, looking very trim in her short tweed skirt and 
 walking shoes ; but, even while she was gone, Sir 
 Charles had whispered to the Constable something 
 which made that rather pliable gentleman change his 
 mind. 
 
 "I'm afraid it won't do, Madame," he said to Flor- 
 entine, as she stood in the hallway, waiting for us. 
 "We are only wasting time and this fellow must be 
 locked up first." 
 
 139
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "We are going now and you can lock him up af- 
 terwards," answered she promptly, as she coolly 
 pulled on her gauntlet gloves. 
 
 "I don't like to take chances, Miss, when there's 
 murder on our hands. And I'm for putting this man 
 in jail as quick as possible. There's a back road lead- 
 ing down from the Castle grounds, and, as it's the 
 shortest cut to the jail, I'm for taking it and getting 
 our man safely housed." 
 
 "Sensible officer," exclaimed Sir Charles. "We will 
 go down the back road and get him behind bars." 
 
 But again he reckoned without Florentine. 
 
 "It is inhuman," declared she, "positively inhuman 
 to leave an old man lying dead in the road at mid- 
 night, the prey of robbers, wild animals and we don't 
 know what!" 
 
 "That's so, your ladyship," agreed the Constable, 
 again veering. 
 
 "Come, then, with me, all of you," she cried like a 
 Joan of Arc, "and we will bring the body here and 
 then then we will " 
 
 I looked at Florentine and she steadied her voice: 
 
 "Then," she said clearly, "we will send this man to 
 jail." 
 
 I will remark, almost in parenthesis, that it is not 
 at all like me to be so quiet on an occasion like this, 
 when life, liberty and happiness were all so closely 
 concerned. But it certainly seemed a time when elo- 
 quence on my part would be wasted, so I said nothing. 
 
 "It's as you say, your Ladyship," said the Constable 
 as we turned to retrace our steps. 
 
 140
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 WITH INTENT TO KILL 
 
 SIR CHARLES had been an irritated listener to 
 the last part of our conversation, one foot 
 stamping the ground like an impatient horse. 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that you are going to let 
 this rascal go with us ?" he demanded, facing the Con- 
 stable. 
 
 The latter stammered something. 
 
 "Yes, I'm going, and I haven't got a crown diamond 
 in my pocket either," I flung at him. 
 
 It was a senseless remark but it hit him on the 
 raw. His face tightened until it seemed all muscle 
 and the flesh turned green in the lantern light. We 
 were almost in front of the Castle and decency should 
 have kept him quiet, but it was not in his make-up. 
 
 "You'll pay for that, you " he shouted, and I 
 
 saw his hand go to his hip. 
 
 "The pistol!" gasped Florentine. "He has a pistol 
 in his pocket." 
 
 And, then, before I realized it, I saw it! It was in 
 his left hip pocket and his left hand was grasping it. 
 I looked at him in amazement; surely he would not 
 be so reckless as to shoot ! Would he, an English 
 baronet, cut down an unarmed man, in the open, un- 
 sheltered and undefended? His fingers closed around 
 the weapon and I saw that he was taking aim. The 
 
 141
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 skill with which he was manipulating it suggested his 
 Sepoy training; he could shoot from the hip; and 
 he was pointing his pistol full at me, his finger was 
 upon the trigger. 
 
 In the interval I had, unnoticed, worked my hands 
 free, and quick as a flash I shot forward and, with an 
 old trick, learned in boyhood, I lunged past him and 
 caught his elbow from the back driving it upward 
 with one swift blow that sent the pistol pointing down- 
 ward. His finger pressed it and it discharged into 
 the ground, barely missing his own foot; he swore a 
 descriptive oath and hurled himself forward at me, 
 and I fell on him. 
 
 Perhaps to my shame I tell it now, that I fought 
 a cripple ; his right hand was fingerless and he was di- 
 vested of those five telling weapons in a fight. But 
 I tell it also that, never in all my experience as an 
 athlete and I have boxed and wrestled with the best 
 of them did I encounter such strength. His right 
 hand he used as a club, a great terrific weapon of bone 
 and muscle ; and, with his mighty left arm, he held and 
 twisted me. He was fingerless on the right, but like 
 most cripples he had developed his normal side until 
 it was of abnormal strength; and his great left leg 
 and thigh and powerful body muscles crushed and 
 bent me, while his superior weight bore me under as 
 a mighty log might carry under a stick of driftwood ; 
 I stiffened in his grasp, helpless. 
 
 What would have been the outcome I do not know, 
 but with a quickness which was an instinct of self- 
 preservation I drew a long breath and suddenly re- 
 laxed. It was a ruse as old as the grassy crest on 
 
 142
 
 WITH INTENT TO KILL 
 
 which we fought, but it worked. I could feel his 
 mighty weight settling upon me; then, easing a little, 
 as he saw that his blows had done their work, he 
 rolled a little to one side to rest, and, then, before he 
 could recover for I was quicker than he I dealt 
 him a rib blow which doubled him; and, while he 
 panted, I wriggled out from under and sprang to 
 my feet. It was none too soon for he was up and 
 after me. 
 
 Drawing back his great club of a right arm, he 
 threw all his strength into it; and, with a vile oath, 
 he hurled himself toward me. I saw him coming, and, 
 by a trick of the jiu jitsu, learned in my schoolboy 
 days, I ducked, and, as I ducked, I gave his arm a 
 swift downward blow, so as to bend it at the elbow, 
 and at the same I clinched my fist and struck his hand 
 from underneath. 
 
 It was a terrible blow and the great muscular thing 
 caught it full. The wrist turned and, with all its 
 force, it drove the hand back home. He struck him- 
 self full in the mouth. With a great yell he sank to 
 his knees, the blood spurting from nose and lips. 
 
 Many a time have I seen this trick done in the 
 gymnasium but never with so deadly an effect. I 
 looked at Sir Charles and made a motion to help him ; 
 for the blood seemed spouting from all his features, 
 and, in spite of my disgust, I felt a pity for him. 
 
 I did not dare to glance at Florentine; when I 
 did look she had turned her head away. 
 
 Perhaps Sir Charles had not dealt himself as fatal 
 a blow as I feared ; perhaps the bloody spurt was more 
 spectacular than vital, but I know he was soon on his 
 
 143
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 feet again for he had been felled by his own hand 
 when, if I may be believed, his fingers wandered not 
 to his pistol pocket but to the pocket of his vest the 
 pocket in which he had placed the diamond. 
 
 The instinct of greed was strong even at such a 
 moment. 
 
 "It's safe until somebody murders you to get it," 
 I muttered at him. It was the most foolish remark of 
 my life; but my anger at the name he had called me 
 and at the pointed pistol died hard. 
 
 "Murder," he cried with shattered nerve. "Oh, my 
 God!" 
 
 "Come, come, no more of this, gentlemen," ordered 
 the Constable, who had stood an actless spectator. 
 "If we are going down the road we'd best be moving 
 along." 
 
 I stepped over to his side, and Sir Charles, still 
 spluttering and making futile attempts at righting his 
 clothes, took the other part of the road. 
 
 "Officer," he exclaimed, "I call you and all the rest 
 to witness that this man made a murderous attack 
 upon me and I command you to arrest him for assault 
 with intent to kill." 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered the Constable, and his voice 
 indicated that he meant to follow instructions. "Now 
 get in line," shouted he. "You are my prisoner ; walk 
 next to me." 
 
 I nodded acquiescence and Sir Charles darted a 
 cautious look in my direction. 
 
 "Florentine," he called, looking over to where my 
 lady of the trim skirt and walking shoes stood by 
 the roadside, "you come here and walk with me." 
 
 144
 
 WITH INTENT TO KILL 
 
 For answer, Florentine flashed a look of contempt 
 at him and, without speaking, she stepped over and 
 took her place next me. So we started down the road 
 again. 
 
 It was the third time I had traveled it on foot that 
 night, but now that I had Florentine by my side, I 
 cared nothing. Certain arrest awaited me and im- 
 prisonment. But to have the lady of my dreams with 
 me this moment under the golden stars was sufficient 
 consolation for all the horror that was to come. In 
 the interval at the Castle I had managed to get 
 straightened up a bit so that, in spite of my experi- 
 ence, I looked a little less desperate than when I last 
 traversed the rough path. 
 
 Florentine managed to keep step with the Consta- 
 ble and me, and, sometimes, as a blessed privilege, the 
 soft wind blew her skirts across me. 
 
 "I shall not be gone long," I whispered. "I shall 
 be released some day." 
 
 For answer she seized my arm in her two warm 
 hands. "I cannot let you go at all," she said. 
 
 "Do not ." I tried to say but my voice caught; 
 
 and I could utter no word. So we talked in silence, 
 that speaking language of those who think the things 
 which others must not hear them say. 
 
 In a life-time of casual acquaintance we could never 
 have been drawn together as by the character tests of 
 this night. 
 
 We went down the steep grade, made the sharp 
 turn and plodded ahead along the carriage road. 
 There was nothing to be seen except the stony path 
 which stretched like a wide grey ribbon in front of 
 
 145
 
 us. Overhead hung the tree branches canopied with 
 a network of leaves that looked like black lace 
 against the dark blue sky. 
 
 Once in the semi-darkness, I again caught a flutter 
 of pink and grey, of scarlet and blue and the faintest 
 rustle of soft silk. "The Sepoy girl," I said to my- 
 self. "But why is she here?" A question which I 
 speedily answered to my own satisfaction when I saw 
 her walking almost upon the heels of Sir Charles. 
 And then I remembered the story of how they had 
 gone out to India together, and how the girl would 
 not remain in India after Sir Charles' return. It 
 was not such a pretty chapter of family history that 
 I wanted to dwell upon it, with Florentine by my 
 side, so I dismissed it at once. 
 
 Florentine was the first to break the silence. 
 
 "Oh, I am so so sorry !" 
 
 "Sorry for what?" I asked. 
 
 "For for getting you into trouble this terrible 
 night's disgrace." 
 
 "It is Sir Charles," I replied promptly, "and it's no 
 disgrace to love a lady." 
 
 She gave my arm a trembling squeeze. "But the 
 arrest the awful imprisonment." 
 
 "I shall at least be near you " 
 
 "Hush," she whispered, clutching me with a ner- 
 vous hand. "There are things I do not understand 
 but I dare not speak of them now." 
 
 I looked and saw the Sepoy girl crowding against 
 Florentine as though to catch each word. 
 
 "Neither do I understand," I replied hotly. "But 
 146
 
 WITH INTENT TO KILL 
 
 I shall not have to wait long before I do under- 
 stand " 
 
 Hello ! There was a shout from the man ahead ; 
 in the dark he had fallen, as I had, upon the head 
 of the dead horse. Hello ! we all came up, the whole 
 party of us, and over the old dead animal the others 
 climbed. 
 
 "Be careful," I cautioned, catching hold of Flor- 
 entine. "Lean on me and do not be afraid. It will 
 be a shock to you to see the dead man." 
 
 I peered ahead. The buggy, borne down by some 
 trick of wind or weight, had turned completely over, 
 partially overturning the old horse with it, and now 
 it could not be righted until the harness had been cut 
 free, and, until that time, the rescuers could not lib- 
 erate the body of old Mr. Pancoast. 
 
 They crowded around, discussing how best to lift 
 the wagon. The harness must be cut, but there were 
 no knives heavy enough to do it. So it ended by dis- 
 patching two laborers back to the Castle for tools 
 with which to do the work. And this meant a delay 
 of a quarter of an hour. 
 
 147
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A MOMENT OF TEMPTATION 
 
 I KEPT at Florentine's side, she was trembling so. 
 "Sweet girl," I whispered, "do not fear!'' 
 She murmured something into my downheld 
 ear and I knew that her grief was because I must 
 leave her so soon. 
 
 "But you are not afraid?" I asked. 
 
 "I dread and I fear," she managed to say. 
 
 And then in little broken words she explained to 
 me that she knew I was innocent, but that, under the 
 stern English laws, I would never go free. With 
 Sir Charles and the Constable against me for assault, 
 and the dead body of old Mr. Pancoast as witness of 
 murder, I would either be hung at once, in the inex- 
 orable English way or rot out years of my life in an 
 English prison. She told me, sobbing and shivering, 
 but I heard and knew. 
 
 I, too, saw my doom. But it was not the future 
 that I dreaded for myself, it was the fate of Floren- 
 tine if I were taken from her. 
 
 Beyond, in the blackness, stood the Constable and 
 his men waiting for the laborers to return from the 
 Castle; all were talking excitedly; we were unob- 
 served. 
 
 Suddenly and almost hysterically, Florentine threw 
 her arms around me. We were strangers, yet we 
 
 148
 
 A MOMENT OF TEMPTATION 
 
 were flung together by Fate as certainly as though 
 tossed by an earthquake into an abyss that held only 
 us two; in a few hours we had lived the life that ex- 
 perience deals out dallying through the years. 
 
 "Do you love me?" she asked, her lips almost 
 against my cheek. 
 
 I did not reply; it was no time for mere speech. 
 Her next words brought the blood to my face. 
 
 "Then, if you love me, do not go !" 
 
 "Go, sweetheart?" 
 
 "Do not go away from me if you love me, you will 
 not let them take you away." 
 
 "But " 
 
 "You need not go with them, listen to me and I 
 will show you." 
 
 In quick, loving, excited words, she told me how 
 there was a path just off there in the woods, through 
 which we might easily slip. She knew the road well, 
 had taken it a hundred times as a child; and, once in 
 the woods, we could find our way to the crossing 
 where there lived a tenant who would risk his life 
 for her. And he would carry us to London. Once 
 there once there the dear girl could think of no 
 more she would leave the rest to me. But in the 
 ten or fifteen minutes we could gain such headway 
 that they could not find us, and she doubted if Sir 
 Charles, moral coward as he was, would dare to alarm 
 the countryside to search for us. 
 
 "They will think we have returned to the Castle 
 and we shall have an hour to get away before they 
 miss us," she urged. 
 
 The dear girl put her arms around my neck. I 
 149
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 lifted my head to clear my brain in the cool night air 
 and her throat touched mine. 
 
 "Kiss me," she begged. 
 
 I bent my head, her full lips parted and her round 
 red mouth, like a love apple, tempted me. 
 
 "Take me and let us go," she cried. "I cannot live 
 to see them put you in a cell and and " 
 
 Her voice broke and I knew the truth ; she was 
 afraid of Sir Charles, horribly afraid. 
 
 The woods lay green and fragrant ahead of us ; and, 
 in the distance, one could imagine, almost feel, the 
 lights of London. 
 
 "Put your arm around me, so I can guide you, and 
 let us dash through the woods," she whispered, her 
 tears on both our cheeks. 
 
 It was the moment when the man decides ! I 
 raised my head. 
 
 "Yes, we will go," I said. "Come ! We can make 
 good speed ; now for the woods !" 
 
 We took a furtive step, glancing cautiously back. 
 They were busy with the buggy and had forgotten us. 
 The way through the trees was dark and safe ; and 
 I knew under Florentine's lead we could make the 
 road. Once in London I would seek the home of 
 the American Ambassador where, with my word that 
 I had committed no crime, I could at least find sanc- 
 tuary. To-morrow in the dawn we could make the 
 Calais-Dover crossing, thence to Cherbourg and 
 home. By that time the real criminal would be found 
 the murderer of the Rev. Mr. Pancoast and the 
 matter would die down. 
 
 We took a stealthy step into the crackling under- 
 150
 
 'A MOMENT OF TEMPTATION 
 
 brush. I glanced at Florentine ; her eyes were on my 
 face with a curious expression. All of a sudden, our 
 positions had changed; she had a maternal look, the 
 look of a woman who broods over, fears for, excuses 
 and protects the thing she loves. 
 
 A twig snapped. "Stoop low," she said sharply ; 
 "they will see you; oh, my love, if they should cap- 
 ture you now running." 
 
 There was a glance of nervous apprehension upon 
 her face, a look that cut me to the quick. 
 
 "Don't move !" she breathed, as she drew her skirt 
 across my shirt bosom. It was the instinct with which 
 a woman shields a murderer, and I saw the shame of 
 it, the degradation, and the scandal. 
 
 I stood upright and stamped upon the underbrush 
 and the dry twigs snapped like pistol shots. 
 
 "Florentine," I exclaimed aloud, "I am not going. 
 I shall not run. I cannot take you with me this 
 way." 
 
 And then I kissed her and told her the reason. 
 
 There are great physical tests through which a 
 woman goes more proudly than a man ; he quails and 
 blanches, an arrant coward, where she is as courage- 
 ous as a knight. 
 
 But there are tests in which the man weighs; each 
 sex is stronger along the paths in which it has had 
 the more experience; she in the physical world, he in 
 the moral. 
 
 There, in the woods, screened by the night, with 
 the voices of the men coming excitedly to us, I took 
 Florentine in my arms and told her why. There were 
 other people in the world, and in the world yet to
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 dawn, besides us two, and there was a very mighty 
 God 
 
 But she interrupted me with a cry of terror: 
 
 "I shall die; I am afraid of my cousin; he is so 
 strong, so brutally strong." 
 
 Sir Charles! An ice cold chill passed over me; I 
 drew my hand across my brow and shook it drip- 
 ping; in the middle of my forehead the great blue vein 
 stood out like a whipcord and, as the cool air touched 
 me, I realized that there was not one dry thread upon 
 me. 
 
 "Take me," she begged, "far away from here." 
 
 At that nerve-racking moment she saw only a way 
 out of the danger in which she thought she had 
 placed me, but I beheld further; she dreaded the bars 
 for me, but I winced at the color supplements for her ; 
 that she, the reigning beauty, and I, a Bostonian, could 
 escape publicity was too much to hope. She shrank 
 from the local scandal but I knew she would only 
 escape it to plunge into a deeper. She felt the hand 
 of the Constable but I felt the clutch of the inevit- 
 able. 
 
 Yet! 
 
 I looked into the woods the dark sweet-smelling 
 woods that have led many a reckless Paul and Vir- 
 ginia onward with their verdant lure the scent of the 
 leaves was hypnotic; about us hung the mystic ether 
 of the shrubs that give forth their odors only in the 
 night. But I knew that nowhere in all the beautiful 
 forest ran there one rill from which could be gath- 
 ered a drop for the cup of Lethe that drink that 
 
 152
 
 A MOMENT OF TEMPTATION 
 
 deadens remorse and the New England conscience 
 Salem-ed ! 
 
 I led Florentine back ; she still holding on to me and 
 crying. 
 
 "You stay here with Jephtha's Daughter," I said, 
 speaking as gently as to a child. "You stay here. I'm 
 going to help !" 
 
 She was very pale, but she did as I told her; she 
 sank upon a stone which I brought from the roadside. 
 
 Once I went back to her: 
 
 "You will wait for me until I am free?" 
 
 "Yes, forever," she said. And I made her repeat 
 it. 
 
 It was a selfish promise to exact from a girl at that 
 time, but I couldn't help it. To hear her say that she 
 would wait gave me hope, that luxury which God ex- 
 tends to his most helpless child and I was far from 
 feeling helpless except in that I could not spare her 
 every pang. 
 
 I vaulted over the dead horse now cut free from 
 its harness. "Let me help," I exclaimed, glad to be 
 free from the self-stung tension of a temptation in 
 which I did not trust my own strength. 
 
 I got no further for there was a cry from the fellow 
 ahead. He had stooped and looked into the buggy. 
 The second man leaned over and looked on, and the 
 third. All three exclaimed. 
 
 I got down and peered in, and, like the others, I 
 uttered an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 The buggy was empty. 
 
 153
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 INVOLUNTARILY I felt for the whiskey flask, 
 for it had been my last recollection as I fell 
 forward over the Rev. Mr. Pancoast. It was 
 in my hand then, I remembered, and now! It was 
 gone ! 
 
 We stood there, in the road, looking from one to 
 the other. The murdered man had vanished, there 
 was no doubt about it, and only the poor old horse lay 
 there as mute evidence of the night's work. 
 
 "What's become of him?" asked the Constable, 
 looking at me as though I was directly responsible. 
 
 "I don't know," I admitted. 
 
 "I'll bet he could tell if he wanted to," muttered Sir 
 Charles, getting down upon his knees and looking in. 
 The novelty of his position distressed him for he got 
 red in the face. 
 
 "The buggy's empty, that's certain, and if this high- 
 wayman didn't take the body away, then some of your 
 men did. That's sure!" 
 
 A murmur ran among the men. 
 
 "What's the matter?" snarled Sir Charles. 
 
 The Constable consulted with them a moment. 
 
 "They say they did not steal the body and they 
 think it is not right for you to insinuate that they 
 did," said the Constable, with unwonted boldness for 
 a timid man. 
 
 154
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 A sound of approval went through the crowd. 
 
 "What's that?" snapped Sir Charles. "Say it over 
 again. They dare to say that they think it is not right 
 for me me they dare to criticise me!" 
 
 He paused with uplifted stump, shaking it right in 
 the Constable's face. 
 
 "What in " 
 
 A sound nearby made us all stop and listen; even 
 Sir Charles paused in his wrath as he heard it. It was 
 an unearthly noise, one that sent the chills running 
 through us, an echo that seemed to come out of the 
 stillness and blackness of the night. 
 
 It was a groan ! 
 
 We stood still, every man of us holding his breath 
 and listening. I ran to Florentine's side. 
 
 The groan was repeated. 
 
 We looked in the direction of the sound, each man 
 holding on to his neighbor for fear. 
 
 "It's a ghost," whispered one of the men, "the ghost 
 of the poor old man." 
 
 A few feeble words reached us, a sort of mutter- 
 ing. 
 
 We moved involuntarily in the direction of the 
 noise, for it led us straight to the deep gutter that 
 was dug at one side of the road. In the furrow, 
 which was wide, there lay a great fallen log. And 
 across the log was stretched a gaunt figure. 
 
 "A ghost!" gasped one of the men. 
 
 "Silence," ordered the Constable, but his hand 
 trembled so that the lantern shook. 
 
 There were other faint sounds as we peered into 
 the darkness. 
 
 155
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "It's Mr. Pancoast !" cried Florentine. 
 
 We stood staring at him speechless with amaze. 
 Yes, there was no doubt that it was he, and, while 
 we looked, he turned and moved his lips. 
 
 A very faint "Hello" came forth ; his voice, though 
 feeble, was certainly not the voice of the orthodox 
 ghost, hollow and resounding. 
 
 We stood still, dumb with surprise. Florentine was 
 the first to find her voice. And I verily believe that 
 the dear girl grasped the situation before I did ; it 
 was Mr. Pancoast and he was alive. Yet it might 
 be the ghost of the Rev. Jedediah, and not he in 
 the flesh. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Pancoast!" exclaimed Florentine, "Mr. 
 Pancoast." 
 
 She stepped to the edge of the road and was for 
 climbing down into the gutter but I was there before 
 her. I jumped down among the fallen leaves and 
 touched the old man lying there upon the great crum- 
 bled log. As I stooped, I got a whiff of something 
 which told me that the Rev. Jedediah had taken mea- 
 sures for the preservation of his life. He had grasped 
 the rudiments of the first law of nature, for beside 
 him lay the flask, its top gone. 
 
 "Mr. Pancoast," I asked, taking hold of his shoul- 
 der, "are are your hurt?" He winced, but the odor 
 was heavy and a smile appeared. It occurred to me 
 that it was an utterly inane question, but I could 
 think of no proper words at that moment. But, as it 
 proved, it was quite the most agreeable thing I could 
 have uttered. 
 
 156
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 "Hurt, no, why should I be hurt?" he muttered. 
 "Where's the medicine bottle?" 
 
 He groaned and it was evident that he was none 
 the better for his adventure but he was alive. And 
 this was more than could be said of Jephtha's Daugh- 
 ter, for the shot that had missed the old man, had 
 taken the old mare. 
 
 "Here, lend a hand," I shouted, "we must get him 
 out of here." 
 
 The log was wet and the leaves were damp and 
 sticky and Mr. Pancoast, besides having passed 
 through a strenuous night, was over seventy. We 
 must not leave him here for one unnecessary moment. 
 "You look all right, but how do you feel?" I queried, 
 taking hold of his shoulders and trying to lift him. 
 
 By this time a half dozen of the Constable's men 
 had joined me in the ditch and the servants of the 
 Castle now that they had become convinced that 
 they were not seeing a ghost had gathered around. 
 
 Willing hands assisted him to his feet; he seemed 
 unbroken as to bones, but his morals had suffered a 
 fracture; he wanted a drink. 
 
 A flask was quickly produced. 
 
 "Don't give him any more, he isn't accustomed to 
 it," I objected. But it was too late, for he had seen 
 the flask and had grasped it with eager fingers that 
 carried it to his lips and held it there rather longer 
 than politeness would have allowed. 
 
 "Best drink I ever had in my life," he uttered, 
 thickly. "Only drink I've had since I left the Uni- 
 versity. Heh! Tastes good when a man's cold hie 
 and wet!" 
 
 157
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 His voice was so low that no one heard it but 
 myself, so that the clerical cloth suffered no stain. 
 Whatever the men may have suspected they said 
 nothing. 
 
 "How did you get here?" I asked, taking him by 
 the shoulder, as soon as we had carried him up to the 
 road, for I wanted to be sure he was perfectly 
 alive. 
 
 "Rolled down bank. Jephtha's Daughter went 
 asleep. Shabby trick. Someone tried shoot us both. 
 I got out, tried to get back in ; buggy turned over, 
 hit me on head. Hie shabby trick!'' 
 
 "Then what happened?" I questioned, shaking him, 
 for he had closed his eyes and seemed lapsing off into 
 sleep and I needed his evidence in unraveling the 
 tangle of the night. 
 
 "Don't know. Poured whiskey in my face, and 
 left old man to die in road with dead horse ! But it's 
 all right everything's all right." 
 
 "Never mind," I said soothingly. "Can you stand 
 now so that we can take you back to the Castle ?" 
 
 "I'd try if I had another drink; it savdti my life." 
 
 There was no doubt about it, but I told him that he 
 didn't need a life preserver again, so soon. 
 
 "Here, boys," I ordered, "take hold of that shoulder 
 and steady him. Somebody give us a hand; he's a 
 dead weight." 
 
 I was sorry that he could not tell me more, but the 
 night's doings had been lost in the oblivion of the 
 flask. 
 
 We lifted the Rev. Mr. Pancoast, but his legs 
 folded under him like the blades of a jackknife. 
 
 158
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 "Little weak in my legs," he suggested amiably. "If 
 you'll let me stay here till mornin' I'll " 
 
 "Catch hold of him, boys, and lift altogether. He's 
 got to be carried back bodily. He'll catch his death 
 of cold." 
 
 We lifted the old man and he stood for a second; 
 then his legs again crumpled under him and he sank 
 down with a peaceful smile on his face. 
 
 "I guess he's injured in his legs, sir," said the 
 Constable. 
 
 "I don't think so," I said, "only a little bruised. 
 But we'll have to carry him just the same." 
 
 "All right; give a lift all round, boys," shouted the 
 Constable, and the men closed in around the Rev. 
 Jedediah, and carried him up the bank to the road, he 
 offering amiable suggestions but making no attempt to 
 walk. Once he was put on his feet, but a few wob- 
 bling steps convinced him it would be much more jo- 
 vial to be carried. So, with an arm around the neck 
 of two stalwart woodsmen, and, with two more carry- 
 ing his feet, he closed his eyes and gave up to the 
 coolie method of transportation. 
 
 "Biggest time of my life," he confided to me and I 
 believed him. 
 
 It was not until we had started up the hill again 
 toward the Castle that my mind came back to the 
 business in hand. The little procession was moving 
 along ahead and the Constable and I were bringing 
 up the rear. 
 
 "Where is Sir Charles?" I asked, looking around, 
 for he had disappeared in the excitement. 
 
 159
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "He must have gone on ahead," suggested the Con- 
 stable. 
 
 I looked but did not see him. And then an awful 
 thought occurred to me. I stared ahead and behind 
 and I peered along each side of the road. 
 
 "Where is the Honorable Miss Hadley?" 
 
 "She was here a minute ago," he replied, lifting his 
 lantern, "perhaps she is with Sir Charles." 
 
 The same thought had come to me but it gave me 
 little comfort. 
 
 "I would like to go on," I said quickly, "and pre- 
 pare them at the Castle for our coming." 
 
 Really this was only an excuse, and a rather trans- 
 parent one, to go and search for Florentine. 
 
 The Constable looked doubtful. "You are still my 
 prisoner, and I don't suppose I can let you go." 
 
 "But the man is alive," I exclaimed. "Surely you 
 cannot hold me for killing a man who is alive and 
 walking in front of us." 
 
 There was a bit of hyperbole in this statement for 
 the manner in which the Rev. Mr. Pancoast was go- 
 ing up the hill could scarcely be called walking. With 
 his arms around the shoulders of the two sturdy men 
 and his feet propelled by another two, he was making 
 the slow and laborious ascent. Now and then the 
 procession would halt while the men got fresh wind. 
 
 "And he seems comfortable and happy," I ob- 
 served. 
 
 "He's loaded," said the Constable. "Not being 
 used to it, it's gone right to his head; lucky, though, 
 he found that whiskey or he might have been dead 
 by now." 
 
 160
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 "But surely I am not to blame for that, nor for the 
 fact that some miscreant of the woods shot his old 
 horse." 
 
 I argued seriously, but I had my doubts as to the 
 shot being fired by a simple miscreant of the woods, 
 but I wanted to get free ; and there was no doubt that 
 the Constable was being impressed by my argument. 
 
 "He's as well as he ever was," I declared. "Listen !" 
 
 "If you have a pleasant thought 
 Sing it ! Sing it !" 
 
 floated back in wavering strains. 
 
 "Do you hear that?" I added by way of emphasis. 
 "The Rev. Mr. Pancoast is not dead." 
 
 The Constable agreed with me. 
 
 "Then why not let me go?" 
 
 He hesitated and shook his head. 
 
 161
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 FLORENTINE IS MISSING 
 
 UNDER ordinary circumstances I would have 
 tipped him over and, defying consequences, 
 I would have quickly followed the path 
 taken by Florentine, as nearly as I could trace it. But, 
 for the third time that evening, prudence prevailed 
 and I followed slowly. If only I had known the di- 
 rection Florentine had taken, I would have been more 
 comfortable. Had she been forcibly carried away by 
 Sir Charles? but no, that was impossible for, at a 
 cry, a sound, I would have been at her side. Had she, 
 almost as disturbing a thought, been frightened into 
 leaving us and had she started, past midnight, on 
 that long dreary walk back to London? Either sup- 
 position was distressing. 
 
 But I was destined not to be kept long in doubt as 
 to her direction at least. Scarcely had we gone ten 
 feet when I saw ahead of me in the road a filmy 
 grey veil; I stooped and picked it up tenderly, for I 
 recognized it as one which Florentine had worn only 
 a few minutes before and which, I knew afterward, 
 the dear girl had dropped as a signal. 
 
 So she had gone back to the Castle ! But why and 
 with whom? and had Sir Charles prevailed upon her 
 to go with him? I stepped along, by the side of the 
 Constable, deliberating these things; that it was not 
 
 162
 
 FLORENTINE IS MISSING 
 
 the lure of the diamond that had called her I felt 
 sure. But the situation was depressing to me, view 
 it how I would; for the thought of Florentine in the 
 company of Sir Charles filled me with a presentiment 
 of coming evil, as certain as it was disagreeable. And, 
 as I pondered, we plodded ahead, a strange procession 
 winding over the rough road under the stars of the 
 early morning. To say that violence filled my soul 
 is to put it mildly ; I was wild with suppressed desire, 
 with the wish to go to Florentine and find out what, 
 if anything, had befallen her; I must, I would go to 
 her! 
 
 A touch upon the arm roused me from this impo- 
 tent revery ; I looked around ; it was Sir Henry, whom, 
 until now, I had utterly forgotten; yet there he was, 
 looking smaller, meeker and more utterly apologetic 
 than ever. 
 
 "Hello !" I exclaimed for lack of anything more in- 
 teresting to say. 
 
 '"Hello!" he responded delightedly, "I I see you 
 are going back to the Castle." 
 
 "Your eyesight is good," I muttered, for he dis- 
 turbed my thought current. 
 
 "And I thought, maybe, you'd have time, if it isn't 
 too late or too early don't you know, to look at 
 the painting. I'd like to have you see the bathtub, 
 it's very realistic, most realistic." 
 
 "Where is it?" I asked, for my enthusiasm as an 
 art critic varies according to circumstance. 
 
 "It's upstairs, in the big east wing, the wing beyond 
 Florentine's room; it's as big as a barn and empty, 
 
 all except my pictures " 
 
 163
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "In the wing where Florentine's room is?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes! You go upstairs, past Sir Charles' room; 
 turn to the left, go down a long corridor, turn to the 
 right near Florentine's room and you're in the east 
 wing; and the picture " 
 
 "I'll go with you to see it to-night," I said eagerly. 
 "I'd love to see it by by candlelight." 
 
 "It's really better so," he replied in a confidential 
 whisper, "because it isn't finished yet and I haven't 
 put the robe on the lady don't you see I'm think- 
 ing of draping her in a toga, maybe a Roman toga, 
 maybe a bath towel I don't know but at present it's 
 better, vastly better, to see the sketch by candlelight 
 don't you know ! King David is on the roof in the 
 distance with his field glass in his hand." 
 
 "Will Miss Hadley be in her room by the time 
 we get back to the Castle and if she is there would 
 we know it that is, shall we see her again to-night?" 
 I asked irrelevantly, for I was determined to see 
 Florentine or, at any rate, to know what had become 
 of her before I slept, if, indeed, I had any plans for 
 sleeping that night. 
 
 "I don't think so," said Sir Henry. "I saw her 
 hurry away and I rather fancied she had something 
 urgent on her mind." 
 
 "Did she go alone?" I asked eagerly, but without 
 much hope of getting a lucid reply, for I had an idea 
 that the eyes of Sir Henry were blind to aught except 
 his painting. But here, it seems, I was mistaken in 
 my estimate of Sir Henry. 
 
 "No, she did not go alone," he answered, glancing 
 around and whispering, "Pearl was with her." 
 
 164
 
 FLORENTINE IS MISSING 
 
 "Who is Pearl?" 
 
 "Pearl is the Sepoy girl the girl Lady Hope and I 
 adopted years ago; you know er you must have 
 heard the story er all London knows it." 
 
 I thought Sir Henry winced a little but he had 
 probably grown hardened to it, for he went on: 
 
 "Pearl followed us to-night; she goes where Sir 
 Charles goes >if he will let her and, when it was 
 all over, and we had revived Mr. Pancoast, I saw her 
 hurrying in the direction of the Castle with Floren- 
 tine." 
 
 "How long ago was it?" 
 
 "Just a few minutes ago, or a little more; I should 
 think it has taken us about that length of time to get 
 Mr. Pancoast started," was the lucid calculation. 
 
 So Florentine had gone back to the Castle with 
 the Sepoy girl some time before. Well, it was a relief 
 to know where she was even while it was a mystery. 
 But, though I could not understand why she had gone 
 with Pearl, I was glad Sir Charles was not her com- 
 panion. After a short silence I thought I could ven- 
 ture to ask about him. 
 
 "Where did Sir Charles go?" 
 
 "He disappeared just a minute ago. I believe he, 
 too, went into the direction of the Castle ; anyway he 
 was with us, and when I turned around he was gone. 
 He hasn't much use for pictures," added Sir Henry 
 with a sigh, "nor for any of us, except Florentine." 
 
 "I should think it would be a matter of congratula- 
 tion for you even as it is a thing of regret for her." 
 
 "I don't know," said Sir Henry doubtfully. "He is 
 a very rich man, comes and goes as he pleases, keeps 
 
 165
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 his town house open all the time in London; has his 
 saddle horse here; never knows where he is going to 
 be; owns immense mining stock; has all London in 
 his clutches I sometimes think. As for us, he owns 
 us, body and soul, and that is his pull on on Flor- 
 entine." 
 
 That Sir Henry did not intend to reveal as much 
 of the financial skeleton-in-the-closet as this was evi- 
 dent, for he stopped abruptly. 
 
 "I am glad she has your sympathy," I said warmly. 
 
 Sir Henry looked over his shoulder again and I 
 thought he trembled a little, so that I was led to be- 
 lieve that, in spite of the money and gold mines, he 
 was not enamoured of Sir Charles. His next remark 
 explained his attitude. 
 
 "He is in love with Florentine and declares that he 
 will have her at any cost. She, dear girl, hates, loathes, 
 despises him and we sympathize with her, but what 
 can she do, poor lamb ! She must get married to save 
 her fortune and Sir Charles swears he is going to get 
 her by fair means or foul." 
 
 "But assuredly," I said, appealing to the sense of 
 manliness which I could see was hidden underneath 
 Uncle Henry's velvet jacket, "you will not allow this 
 girl to sacrifice herself in this way for her family. 
 Why, all London would be up in arms if it were 
 known; for with her youth and beauty she could 
 make a match any day." 
 
 Uncle Henry shrugged his shoulders and sighed. 
 "It is a pity," he admitted, "but there is family money 
 at stake, a family fortune; and where there's money, 
 all London, as well as the rest of the world, is deaf, 
 
 166
 
 FLORENTINE IS MISSING 
 
 dumb and blind. Until you came last evening and 
 made your speech asking for Florentine's hand we 
 feared that it would be Sir Charles or nobody." 
 
 "Well, I am still in the field." 
 
 "Oh, Florentine has explained to us how you are 
 descended from William the Conqueror, and and 
 King Arthur and and others, and there seemed no 
 reason why it should not be a perfect match, espe- 
 cially as she loved you so at first sight and had been 
 loving you madly since she first saw you ten days 
 ago. And she told us how how pardon my vulgar- 
 ity how rich you were and all that!" 
 
 Delightful, considering that she knew me only as a 
 penniless pup of a detective. 
 
 "And she told us her Aunt Hope and me how 
 much. you enjoyed pictures that you were never 
 tired of studying them. And she explained to Charity 
 your love for Bibles, particularly the Oxford, so that 
 when you came, we were all quite ready to receive 
 you with open arms. And then this awful thing oc- 
 curred." 
 
 I could see that Florentine had not been backward 
 in taking strategetic measures. 
 
 "But you surely do not think I had any hand in it, 
 in the attempted assassination of the clergyman who 
 was coming to marry us." 
 
 "No-o! Of course not. But Sir Charles has his 
 suspicions aroused ; he knows now that you were com- 
 ing here to the Castle to marry Florentine and," with 
 a whisper that positively trembled with fear, "when 
 he is crossed when he is crossed, well, you must be 
 careful of him !" 
 
 167
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "I will be careful of him all right/' I answered. 
 
 "Then the further revelation the thing Sir 
 Charles told us to-day; if Florentine marries him it 
 will be buried forever, for he has kept the secret well. 
 But if not " 
 
 "If not?" 
 
 "He will spread it to the winds of London." 
 
 "And the secret, this dark thing at which you hint so 
 broadly ?" 
 
 "It is such that none of our family would dare set 
 foot in the social world of London for many a year 
 to come." 
 
 "I think you exaggerate, for no family but has its 
 flaw, but I want to tell you now that I intend to marry 
 Florentine. And," I added, shaking my finger at him 
 impressively, "I shall marry her to-day to-day, do 
 you understand? to-day, just as we planned, unless 
 they kill her or me !" 
 
 I spoke with some braggadocio and certainly with 
 more confidence than I felt, for here was I, technically 
 at least, in the hands of the Constable while Floren- 
 tine had disappeared, two almost unsurmountable ob- 
 stacles. 
 
 Could anything have happened to her? 
 
 But there was no time for more thought for we had 
 arrived at the Castle steps. Slowly the procession 
 passed up, the Constable and I coming last; and 
 through the wide door they went until finally all had 
 gone in except the officer of the law, whose men had 
 rejoined him after depositing Mr. Pancoast inside, 
 and me ! To my amazement I saw that they intended 
 to shut me outside with the Constable. 
 
 168
 
 FLORENTINE IS MISSING 
 
 The door closed in our faces, leaving me staring at 
 the outer panels; even Sir Henry, awed by the near 
 proximity of Sir Charles, had forgotten me. 
 
 The Constable and I were upon the Castle steps. 
 
 "Now," said I, turning to him, "I am discharged, 
 honorably discharged, or you can let me go on 
 my parole. And if you want me again you can get 
 me in the morning at my apartment." 
 
 "All right, sir, I suppose it is all right." 
 
 "Of course it is all right !" 
 
 Taking out a card I wrote upon it the name of one 
 of the most impressive apartment hotels in London, 
 for Lady Kensington, to keep me in London long 
 enough to attend to her manifold affairs, insisted that 
 I take a furnished flat. I had rebelled a little at the 
 time, but my father had been Lady Kensington's 
 lawyer, when she, herself, left Boston, the wife of a 
 titled Englishman, a fact which gave her a proprie- 
 tary right over me; so she had taken the apartment 
 before my arrival and insisted that my baggage and 
 my Japanese valet be personally conducted there at 
 once. It had seemed a bit of extravagance at the 
 time, but now I was devoutly glad to own it. The 
 Constable studied the card, and was suitably im- 
 pressed by the address. 
 
 "Very well, sir! Good-night, sir!" 
 
 "Good-night, and better luck to you with the next 
 murderer," I called out as I stood on the steps and 
 watched him disappear down the narrow back road 
 where his men were waiting for him. He had evi- 
 dently, in the absence of Sir Charles, declined to con- 
 sider that I had committed an assault upon that gen- 
 
 169
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 tleman ; for an instant I was tempted to order him to 
 arrest Sir Charles for pointing a loaded weapon at me 
 but the hour and Florentine made me desist. 
 
 170
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE HIGHWAYWOMAN 
 
 1 TURN ED to the Castle; for a second I stared 
 in amazement; it had disappeared; gradually 
 its shadowy form loomed up in front of me; 
 but it was in darkness from top to bottom, for the 
 lights had suddenly gone out and there was not a 
 glimmer anywhere. I put out my hand and grasped 
 the great brass door knocker. Surely, Sir Henry 
 at least would be awake even though the Rev. Mr. 
 Pancoast might be sleeping the sleep that comes of 
 too deep a draught of weariness and joy. That he had 
 received the blow intended for someone else was not 
 his fault. 
 
 As I lifted the knocker, a square in the panel of 
 the great oak door in front of me moved. I watched 
 it with fascinated eyes as it swung creakingly inward. 
 In the square opening, with his face set in the frame- 
 work, I could see the features of Sir Charles. 
 
 "What do you want?" he demanded, looking at me 
 blankly, as though he had never laid eyes upon me be- 
 fore. 
 
 "I want admittance for one thing," I said, "and 
 then there are a few other things I may want later. 
 At present I'll thank you to open the door." 
 
 He laughed a nasty laugh. "I suppose you'd like 
 171
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 to know where Florentine is. I'd bet a penny you'd 
 give something to find her." 
 
 "And I expect to find her," I retorted, squaring 
 off a little and getting ready to fight through the eight- 
 inch oak panel. "I notice," I added, for his face 
 fired me again, "that she was not greatly tempted by 
 your precious stone in which you must have invested 
 so much." 
 
 Sir Charles flushed indigo ; I feared apoplexy. 
 
 "Well," he said, with his hateful rasping laugh, 
 "she's off for London, left here half an hour ago on 
 the fastest horse in the stables; took the short road 
 so as to get there quickest. By the way," and he 
 leaned further out, "I suppose you know her history 
 about her mother's family." 
 
 "No !" I exclaimed. Much as I hated him I thought 
 it well to learn this mysterious secret now, once and 
 for all. I could deal with it more intelligently if I 
 knew it than though I continued to work in the dark. 
 
 "Oh, you're ready to listen now," he sneered. "Well, 
 I'll tell you ! The mother of your proud and Honor- 
 able Florentine is not dead; she is alive." 
 
 I started and a suspicion of the truth began to 
 dawn. 
 
 "She's alive, but she's one of those 'that might better 
 be dea.d. No ! she doesn't live here nor in England. 
 We pay her to live away. Her home the place she 
 calls home, the only home such women know is a 
 mining camp. She lives the life of the worst and most 
 degraded women of the camp." 
 
 "Does Florentine know this?" 
 
 "Yes. Her Aunt Faith told her to-night, and she 
 172
 
 THE HIGHWAYWOMAN 
 
 told the other sisters. They'd give their last penny to 
 keep it from getting into the prints, you can wager 
 your bottom dollar, Mr. Roman Elliott." 
 
 Sir Charles leered and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that you would hold this 
 over the poor girl and force her to marry you by 
 threatening exposure?" I demanded. "If you would, 
 you're a blacker demon than I supposed, and God 
 knows that was dark enough." 
 
 "I'm going to marry the girl by fair means or foul," 
 he declared, waving the mutilated stump out of the 
 open panel. "And it's my opinion, if the mother's 
 bad, the girl isn't much better. So I'm not getting 
 such a bargain for my money, after all. But her 
 looks will carry her a few years until she fades. Now, 
 you blanked Sir Knight, what are you going to do 
 about it?" 
 
 "I'm going to tell you, you lie, for one thing," I 
 exclaimed, moving up nearer to the small open panel. 
 "And I'll leave you as a souvenir " 
 
 "You're wasting your time and strength," he 
 laughed. "You'd better go back to London." 
 
 And before I could strike out or reply, the little 
 oak panel banged shut, leaving me out in the night. 
 
 I was shut out, but not vanquished. A great rage 
 consumed me. I beat upon the doors; I shouted; I 
 battered my fists and brought down maledictions; I 
 threatened murder ; the only sound was a laugh from 
 within. 
 
 Utterly exhausted, I turned away. 
 
 At that moment a clock in the Castle struck. I 
 tried to count the number but its rattling sound was 
 
 173
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 succeeded by that of another and I could not tell the 
 time. 
 
 I turned and looked about me. Dense woods sur- 
 rounded the Castle and blackness lay everywhere, 
 blackness except where the road led ahead, like a 
 stream of light let down from a flickering star. Should 
 I take the road and go back to London, and had Flor- 
 entine really gone that way and where would she 
 remain at this hour of the night? or should I stay 
 here until morning and intercede with the Graces and 
 Uncle Henry in our behalf ! I could almost imagine 
 that the Aunts Faith, Hope and Charity were thinking 
 about me at this minute. 
 
 And the story of Florentine's mother ! No wonder 
 the dear old ladies dreaded exposure. 
 
 And Florentine, dearest girl, to win them over she 
 had hinted that I was related to William the Con- 
 queror. 
 
 I remembered how, once, I had wanted to play 
 English Kings with my Cousin Irene and how we 
 couldn't play because she wouldn't make believe she 
 was a queen. Irene never did believe in make-believ- 
 ing anything, and, besides, she preferred a foreign 
 missionary to a king any day ! 
 
 While I stood hesitating, a sudden and subtle thought 
 came to my mind, doubtless such a thought as had 
 occurred to my distinguished ancestor when he won 
 that bride of his with a daring now famed in history. 
 I would try to do by strategy that which I could not 
 do by open dealing. 
 
 I wanted to go back and murder Sir Charles in his 
 bed, shouting to all the world to witness my deed, 
 
 174
 
 THE HIGHWAYWOMAN 
 
 and here I was compelled to play a puppet's part, to 
 act as though I had been vanquished. 
 
 Swinging as jauntily down the steps as the darkness 
 would permit, I started briskly along the path ; I knew 
 that I was being watched from the Castle windows 
 but I would meet cunning with craft. Only once did 
 I stop to look back and then it was to make a. signal 
 which to one who did not understand it might have 
 gone unnoticed. I took the grey veil, Florentine's 
 veil, out of my pocket and I waved it over my head. 
 If Sir Charles saw it, he might have taken it as a 
 flag of defiance ; I did not go back to ask him. 
 
 Down the hill I went and around the dusky turn, 
 whistling merrily. But, once around the bend and out 
 of sight of the house, I stopped, for it occurred to me 
 that it would be better to go slowly and cautiously and 
 to listen as I walked, for, possibly, if Florentine were 
 being detained against her will, she might send out 
 upon the night air some sound, some signal which 
 would call me back to her. 
 
 My object was to make Sir Charles think I had 
 returned to London while at the same time to let Flor- 
 entine know that I was nearby. 
 
 At the thought I stopped short, and then I perceived 
 what I had not seen before, a small footpath leading 
 to the left of the main road. I peered into it; for, a 
 little beyond, it took a circular turn which looked as 
 though it led back to the Castle by a circuitous route. 
 
 I turned to explore it, when, suddenly, as though 
 she had dropped right out of the night, there stood 
 before me in the road, a woman! She was dressed 
 in an automobile coat and on her head was a soft 
 
 175
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 felt hat held down by a long veil which was knotted 
 under her chin. 
 
 At first I thought that it was Florentine and then I 
 saw at once that it was not. 
 
 I stopped short and stared at her; if she had come 
 down out of the skies in my plain sight, I could not 
 have been more amazed. She cocked her head and 
 looked at me as confidently as though I had been an 
 old acquaintance. 
 
 "Where have you been?" she demanded. "Come 
 now and give an account of yourself !" 
 
 I lifted my hat and bowed as politely as the situa- 
 tion and my surprise would permit, while from my 
 lips there came an involuntary, "Good evening!'' 
 
 "I suppose you will say you could not get away any 
 sooner," she went on impatiently. "But I can tell 
 you that's it's no jolly fun waiting here three hours 
 by the side of the road for a gentleman ; and never so 
 much as a signal from you in all that time. If you 
 hadn't floated that grey veil I'd have been gone. I 
 was just starting along when my peepers lit on it as 
 you came over the hill." 
 
 She stopped and her teeth chattered. 
 
 I know now how Jove felt when Minerva stepped 
 out before him, fully panoplied and ready for fight. 
 He was afraid of her and he wished she would vanish 
 into the region whence she came. Man that is born 
 of woman becomes remarkably critical ; he has a high 
 opinion of the one who flees from him but let her 
 turn and make advances and he grows suspicious. 
 This woman was here for no good. 
 
 I did not know what to say; there was an embar- 
 176
 
 THE HIGHWAY WOMAN 
 
 rassing lack of calling cards and introductions and the 
 road was bleak. A dark lantern, hung at her belt, 
 lit it a little way ahead. I uttered the conventions. 
 
 "It was unintentional I did not look forward " 
 
 It was weak but she took it as an apology. 
 
 Her features relaxed a little and in the vague light 
 I could dimly see that she was of the voluptuous type, 
 commonly known as "handsome." Her features were 
 regular, though rather too brilliantly colored for con- 
 ventionality, and her hair, though coppery, was 
 dressed with elaborate care. 
 
 "Well, I'm glad I caught you," she said through 
 her chattering teeth. "I was beginning to think you 
 had gone down the other way, or they had got you, 
 though you had the revolver and the chloroform and 
 the whiskey." 
 
 She stopped and waited but I thought silence the 
 best reply. Unfortunately it only irritated her the 
 more for she broke out again: 
 
 "I can tell you, after this night's experience, I am 
 ready to get out of this business ; such a night as I've 
 had, with people going over this road and carriages 
 driving up and back, and Lord knows what not!" 
 
 "It has certainly been a rough night," I admitted, 
 taking out my handkerchief and holding it partially 
 over my face until I could turn sideways, so that my 
 features were more in the shadow, for it suddenly 
 occurred to me that this lady might be worth cultivat- 
 ing. She would certainly like me better if she did 
 not search out my features with that red lantern. 
 
 "Rough!" she exclaimed, getting angry again, "I 
 wouldn't put in another like it for all the old silver 
 
 177
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 in the Castle, and Bud says there's a good haul of it. 
 He thought that you, being a new one in this part of 
 the country, could get at it better than he could. Bud 
 can't show his face anywhere, they know him so well. 
 He's done almost every house between here and Lon- 
 don except the Castle; so they've been laying for 
 him for two years." 
 
 She spoke with the pride of a woman who is the 
 wife of an expert in his line. 
 
 "Then it is to Bud that I am indebted for this plea- 
 sant interview." 
 
 She smiled until the paint cracked on her hard red 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Don't mention it," she said coquettishly. "But let's 
 get out of this road." 
 
 She handily, as from practice, unhitched the dark 
 lantern from her belt and set it down so that its light 
 fell on her feet; then, stooping, she untied her shoe 
 and pulled it off and shook it. 
 
 "Bly me !" she exclaimed as a pebble dropped out. 
 
 She put the shoe back on her foot and held it up to 
 be tied, a service which I performed as nimbly as I 
 could, for the light from the lantern was unfortu- 
 nately close to my face. 
 
 "Drat the boots!" she observed as she stamped the 
 shoe on the ground until it felt comfortable. "Bud 
 wears rubber sneakers." 
 
 "Where is Bud?" I asked. 
 
 "He lit out when the trouble began but he'll soon 
 be back. Oh, Bud had other work to-night, work that 
 was worth while. He sent me ahead and told me to 
 give you the black bag with the kit in it and then to 
 
 178
 
 THE HIGHWAYWOMAN 
 
 wait until I got the signal from you. Then I was to 
 meet you and tell you to hide in the side of the road 
 with the swag until he could come out with the 
 wagon." 
 
 "So I must thank you for the black bag, too, must 
 I?" 
 
 "Yes," she acknowledged with a laugh, partly of 
 pride and partly of apology. "I threw it in the car- 
 riage and I guess it must have hit your foot, but I 
 couldn't wait to ask ; the coachman nearly caught me 
 as it was, but I heard you yell." 
 
 "It was certainly most unkind of you to try to 
 smash my foot." 
 
 "My eye, but you're a brick. Bud would have been 
 mad enough to kill me. But it was this way. Bud 
 told me to watch along the side of the road for you 
 and to give you the bag. Then he told me to wait 
 here and let him know if you got it sure." 
 
 "Well, I got it sure." 
 
 "That's what I told him and I said you'd gone on 
 and that the road was clear. And then there came 
 another carriage and another one. My word, but I 
 never saw so many carriages, and Bud was afraid to 
 go up to the Castle !" 
 
 "What did he think would become of me if he left 
 me?" I asked, putting what indignation I could into 
 my voice. 
 
 "Oh, he said you'd know enough to lay low and 
 let the stuff go until some other night. He said you'd 
 had enough experience to know when to get drowsy 
 and when to work." 
 
 "Very flattering of Bud." 
 179
 
 "My word, but you're a dandy," she repeated. "And 
 it was mean of Bud to leave you this way. But, hon- 
 est, he just couldn't help it, though he did want your 
 first job here in England to go off bully. But every- 
 thing was up against it for him." 
 
 The woman stopped and looked along the road. "I 
 thought that was Bud," she said. "It is high time he 
 was getting here." 
 
 I, too, glanced down the road and was devoutly 
 thankful that Bud had not got along. 
 
 "Well, after you went on in the carriage with the 
 black bag I hid here to tell Bud it was right as nine- 
 pence; and then the carriages began to come, one 
 after another ! My eye, but they must have had a re- 
 ception at the Castle to-night!" 
 
 I thought of Aunt Faith and the old family lawyer 
 and Sir Charles. 
 
 "It certainly looked that way," I answered. 
 
 "And when Bud came, and I told him, he said it 
 was all off, and that he couldn't take the silver tan- 
 kards when the company was drinking out of them. 
 So we thought we'd better both go back home and Bud 
 said you'd know enough to follow." 
 
 "I was following!" 
 
 Again she smiled approval as she resumed. "Since 
 there was nothing at the Castle, Bud wanted to get 
 back, but how was he to get a cab? And while we 
 stood here at the side of the road, like two mummies, 
 along came a buggy. Bud thought he could fire a 
 shot in the air and scare whoever was inside the 
 wagon. Then he would point the pistol at him and 
 
 180
 
 THE HIGHWAYWOMAN 
 
 make him get out and walk and Bud would take the 
 buggy; it's one of his best tricks." 
 
 "It's as old as the hills," I scoffed. 
 
 "But the old goat was going so slow you could 
 hardly see the wheels go round and Bud said it was 
 taking one chance in a thousand that he'd ever get 
 back to London behind such a horse, but it was getting 
 late and he had to do something. So he fired a shot 
 and the old horse reared; he must have hit it in the 
 lid though he didn't mean to, and then the old beast 
 dropped. That scared Bud, and the horse was done 
 for anyhow, and there was no need to hold up the old 
 party inside. So he caught hold of me and we ran 
 down the road together. Bud said he wasn't going 
 to take any more chances so he left me to wait for 
 you and walked back to town. My word ! you've been 
 a long time coming." 
 
 "I was held," I replied truthfully. 
 
 "You don't say ! Did you get in a tight corner and 
 couldn't get out? Well, there's one comfort, they 
 don't know you in this part of the world. But I'd 
 have known your face anywhere, even if Bud hadn't 
 described you to me. Why," and she gave me an 
 arch smile, "I've had a newspaper picture of Johnny, 
 the Australian Crook, in my looking glass for a year. 
 And you look just exactly like your picture." 
 
 "That isn't flattery," I remarked, glancing uneasily 
 down the road and wondering what I would do if 
 Bud should come. "And I'm going to walk on," I 
 added. "You can tell Bud, when he comes, that you 
 have seen me and that I've gone." 
 
 "Say," she exclaimed, touching me playfully, "don't 
 181
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 get mad, the picture was a corker. And if you'll 
 stay till Bud comes, I'll make him let you in on some- 
 thing good in town. There's a big wedding to-night, 
 one of those American heiresses marries a Duke ; and 
 there's wedding presents my eye ! And Bud's gone 
 to look 'em over. He said he'd come back and get 
 you, maybe; and there might be a chance to-night just 
 before .morning, when they're all sound asleep, to do 
 a little work." 
 
 "Can't stop," I said. "Tell Bud I'll see him in 
 town." 
 
 I turned to go. 
 
 "Say," she called after me, "don't forget our num- 
 ber ; here it is written on a piece of paper. Bud told 
 me to write it down for you. It's two flights up in 
 the rear, and don't you go and get yourself lost." 
 
 I promised faithfully not to get myself lost. 
 
 "Say," she called again. "I forgot to ask you for 
 the countersign, but I knew you, anyway, though Bud 
 told me to be sure to make you give it." 
 
 She fumbled with the slip of paper on which there 
 was an address; I clutched it hastily and put it in 
 my pocket. 
 
 "That's where we live ; now speak the countersign !" 
 she demanded. 
 
 "It's late and I can't bother with it; ask me some 
 other time," I called back. 
 
 Please give it just so I can tell Bud you had it." 
 
 She came after me and grabbed my sleeve, and, 
 looking me straight in the eye she solemnly pro- 
 nounced the word "Rome!" Then she repeated it. 
 "Rome!" 
 
 182
 
 THE HIGHWAY WOMAN 
 
 I looked at her. 
 
 "Well," she snapped, "why don't you say your 
 word?'" 
 
 "It's too late," I remonstrated again, tearing myself 
 away and turning toward the little side path. 
 
 "Well, please give it, just this once, now, 'Singa- 
 pore!'" 
 
 "Singapore!" I cried, moving on, for I distinctly 
 heard the sound of wagon wheels, though her own 
 ears were so covered by the automobile veil that I 
 knew she hadn't heard them yet. 
 
 "And now I'll bid you good night and move off. If 
 Bud comes tell him I'm not here." 
 
 I was already out of her sight but, far from being 
 reassured, I was in a more disturbed frame of mind 
 than before. 
 
 I knew that there was another man on foot in the 
 woods that night and prowling around the Castle. 
 
 And I remembered the diamond and how Sir 
 Charles had flashed it and the curious rustling in 
 the brush which both Florentine and I had noticed. 
 
 Yes, there was another personage to be considered 
 and that was no other than my double, Johnny, the 
 Australian Crook. My lady of the highway had told 
 me enough of his whereabouts so that I knew he was 
 in this locality. But where was he and what was he 
 doing ? I dropped into a not very pleasant study. The 
 woods were dense ; the underbrush was thick and, far 
 off, in the dim shadows lay the sleeping Castle. Had 
 Johnny, the Australian Crook, got tired and gone 
 home, or was he loafing in the woods? 
 
 There was no doubt about the wagon now and I 
 
 183
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 dashed down the footpath, leaving her to face Bud 
 and make her own explanation of the disappearance 
 of his partner, Johnny, the Australian. As for the 
 fate of Lady Kensington's wedding presents if Bud 
 got back to town in time well, there's no need of bor- 
 rowing trouble, and I certainly had enough on my 
 hands. 
 
 184
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE STAIRWAY OF VINES 
 
 A\D now for Florentine ! I had not followed 
 the little footpath more than a few steps be- 
 fore I saw that I was correct in my surmise. 
 After leaving the high road it curved rather sharply 
 to the left and I soon knew that it was bringing me 
 back through the close trees which lay to the east of 
 the Castle. By walking rapidly I found myself, in 
 a few minutes almost under the Castle windows, 
 though so compact were the woods that I was quite 
 hidden by the shade. 
 
 Now that I had a chance to inspect it I discovered 
 that the mansion on this side was very deep; it 
 stretched back as far as the eye could follow it in 
 the dark and it seemed made up of additions. There 
 was the main building, tall and pretentious; then a 
 large wing, and to this had been built another wing, 
 still longer and reaching far back into an extension 
 which I judged to be the servants' quarters. It was 
 the typical old English castle, half decayed; its vines 
 and brush bearing witness to the years in which it had 
 lain asleep. I doubted, judging from the greyness of 
 the stone and the dullness of the wood, if mortal hand 
 had been put upon it in half a century. 
 
 I looked along the old east wall ; it contained the 
 sleeping-rooms of the family, and its windows, little 
 
 185
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 squares of many panes, were numerous ; one could 
 imagine them twinkling with light but now they were 
 black and lifeless. 
 
 The main building of the Castle did not interest me, 
 so I crept along the east wing, looking upward, until 
 suddenly I found myself under two windows bril- 
 liantly illuminated. There was a slight jutting out of 
 the wall here so that I did not see them until directly 
 underneath. I withdrew to reconnoitre. From Uncle 
 Henry's description I judged these to be the windows 
 of Sir Charles' room, a surmise which proved correct. 
 
 Scarcely did I have time to withdraw into the 
 shadow, if there could be any deeper shade than that 
 vouchsafed by the night itself which had grown black 
 as Erebus, when the shade was run up and who should 
 appear in the window but Sir Charles himself. I 
 saw him clearly as he stood fully exposed by the bril- 
 liant glare from within. However feebly the other 
 inmates of the Castle might be supplied with light Sir 
 Charles had plenty of illumination. 
 
 He was looking out and glancing up and down the 
 wall uneasily. It was almost as if he had a premoni- 
 tion of evil, for he leaned out of the window and 
 studied the woods intently. I happened to be hiding 
 under the very tree that grew beneath his window ; the 
 upper branches almost touched his shoulder. He 
 stared straight down at the spot where I was, and I 
 closed my eyes and held my breath for it seemed as 
 though he must see me. 
 
 The minute lengthened into two, still he stared 
 down. There was a slow movement in the bushes 
 near me and the unexpected snapping of a twig; I 
 
 186
 
 THE STAIRWAY OF VINES 
 
 dared not look around but my breath quickened for 
 I knew that Sir Charles must hear it; something or 
 somebody was moving near. 
 
 I thought instantly of Johnny, the Australian Crook, 
 and if I had dared I would have dashed out. As it 
 was I felt almost sure that Sir Charles must hear. 
 
 He did hear it for in his rough, raucous, rasping 
 voice he called a hoarse : "Who's there ?" 
 
 The rustle ceased and I could imagine that another 
 breath was being held not so very far from mine for 
 it had grown so still. But there was a silence, and 
 only the wind lilted the trees. 
 
 Sir Charles was not satisfied. He lingered at the 
 window, looking straight down at the tree trunk be- 
 hind which I crouched. There was no repetition of 
 the snapping and after a while he drew in his head, 
 apparently convinced that the sound had been a fig- 
 ment of his fancy. Shortly afterwards his light went 
 out. 
 
 But not until I had waited some minutes, to see if 
 he returned to the window, did I venture to work my 
 way along the east wall to the rear wing where Flor- 
 entine's room was located. I had memorized Uncle 
 Henry's directions so thoroughly that I knew it at 
 once. But I stepped back into the trees and looked 
 up, counting the windows as I looked. Yes, there it 
 was! a room with a light burning dimly in it, a small 
 glow that might have come from a candle that had 
 been placed upon a dresser by someone who expected 
 to return. Yet this tiny light high up in the dark was 
 the minaret that would lead me to my lady. 
 
 I crept up closer to the house; the window of the 
 187
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 room was open, but after a minute's inspection I de- 
 cided that Florentine was not in her room; it would 
 be useless perhaps worse to send up a signal. 
 
 The wall of the Castle was covered with vines ; 
 they were rough and of heavy growth, and, as I stood 
 still gazing upward, I rested my hand upon them. 
 Their stems were thick and gnarled, and, grasping 
 them tightly, I discovered that the fibre was old and 
 tough; they must have crept into the Castle stone 
 with the growth of many a generation. 
 
 It would be quite easy to climb up. 
 
 Mechanically, I laid my hand in the dense growth 
 of leaves, when, to my surprise, I found that my fin- 
 gers were touching something solid, a substance that 
 was neither leaves nor stems but firm and cold. I 
 parted the green growth and saw the object. It was 
 a flat stone and it extended out from the Castle wall 
 for a distance of at least a foot. I put my hand under- 
 neath the stone to discover what supported it when 
 my fingers clutched an iron bar that had been driven 
 into the wall. I stooped and examined it the pro- 
 jecting stone was supported from underneath with a 
 strong iron bracket ; I stood up and let the vines spring 
 back. Instantly they closed over the stone effectu- 
 ally concealing it from sight. 
 
 I parted the leaves again, wonderingly. Then its 
 meaning flashed over me. It was a stone step. But 
 why should it be there, hidden in the vines on the 
 outer wall of the Castle? I could not even conjecture 
 an answer. While I stood gazing at the step I let my 
 hand wander upward and something aroused my 
 suspicions. It was an iron ring. L parted the vines 
 
 188
 
 THE STAIRWAY OF VINES 
 
 a little above the ring and there was another flat 
 stone; it too, was a step, and it was held up by an 
 iron bracket placed beneath. The masonry for this 
 step was nearer the level of my eye I discovered to 
 be of the finest. 
 
 A further search led to another. Like the rest it 
 was concealed by the vines which hid it from casual 
 view as effectually as though it were hidden by a 
 screen. Rings were driven in the wall at frequent in- 
 tervals. 
 
 One step rose methodically above the other. 
 
 The whole purpose was now clear. It was a stone 
 stairway, and it had been built in the long ago by 
 some Sir Knight. Who knows why? That it was not 
 placed there temporarily was evident from the care 
 with which it was constructed, for to build such a 
 stairway on the outside of the wall, must have taken 
 days of skillful masonry. The shape of the stones, 
 the accuracy of their position and the strength of their 
 supports told plainly that the stairway had been built 
 by some member of the Hadley family, more or less 
 eccentric, who had preferred to make entrance to his 
 home in this peculiar manner. 
 
 Now the stairway, long since relegated to the limbo 
 of disuse, was overgrown with heavy vines. But it 
 was still very accessible and the vines rendered it 
 easier to climb than if the stones had been naked and 
 slippery. 
 
 I took one step up and poised myself upon the first 
 stone, and leaned against the Castle. To my surprise 
 my hand at once grasped the iron ring that had been 
 driven by staples into the stone wall. One could walk 
 
 189
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 up the firm steps, with hands securely locked in these 
 hanging rings, or one could catch the vines. In either 
 case it would be no difficult feat. 
 
 I wondered if Florentine knew of this stairway and 
 if she ever made use of it. It led upward right to her 
 chamber window. 
 
 How easy, I thought, for a person who wanted to 
 gain access to the Castle to run up this outside ladder 
 of stone and to enter Florentine's room, the door of 
 which opened into the main hall. I was amazed at the 
 carelessness of the family in leaving the Castle so 
 exposed; then I reflected that the stairway was thor- 
 oughly concealed by the vines which hung two feet 
 deep upon the house, and that no person, not knowing 
 of its existence, would imagine it to be there. Still 
 the wall was risky, for an athletic person could walk 
 up the tangled, knotted vines even without stepping 
 foot upon the stone stairway. 
 
 Leaving the house cautiously by keeping in the 
 shadow and almost crawling in the heavy grass, I 
 reached the nearest tree ; it was not far from the man- 
 sion; and, from its shelter, though thoroughly cov- 
 ered myself, I could observe what went on in the 
 Castle windows. 
 
 I crouched behind the tree, and, not daring to light 
 a cigarette for fear of the light, I listened and waited. 
 
 I had not long to wait for a figure came stepping 
 lightly toward me. I moved a little for I thought it 
 was Florentine and I wanted her to know that I was 
 near her. The figure came nearer, stopped short, and 
 if it had been light enough to see, I should have 
 said that it stared at me. I stared back. It was only 
 
 190
 
 THE STAIRWAY OF VINES 
 
 for a second and then it was gone; it was scarcely 
 more than an apparition, a shadow, but I had seen it. 
 
 My impulse was to go shouting after the man for 
 it was a man in top coat and soft hat to head him 
 off, or to frighten him away at least. But the futil- 
 ity of this was too apparent for any kind of argument. 
 If I were to leave my post for one instant I might 
 miss Florentine. And besides, to run unarmed in the 
 dark woods would put me at a disadvantage that could 
 only be stamped as foolhardy ; he was my exact coun- 
 terpart ; both he and I had seen that it was the Aus- 
 tralian Johnny. 
 
 On the other hand, by letting him escape, suppose I 
 were bringing danger to Florentine who might be in 
 the dark woods. 
 
 So I stood still and waited, though this time with 
 an impatience that was a positive agony. I clinched 
 my fists and swore, and in my agitation I stepped out 
 from the shelter of the tree. Where was Florentine? 
 In another minute, defying consequences, I would 
 dash across the open space and ascend the stone stair- 
 way, leading up to her window, to look for her. 
 
 My own opinion was that she was in the Castle and 
 I watched her pane to see the light flare up. She 
 would come to the window to pull down her shade and 
 then I would see her and signal to her. To be sure, 
 Sir Charles had said that she had gone back to Lon- 
 don, but this I knew to be a falsehood. A thousand 
 foolish fears possessed me. 
 
 I stood there in the woods, looking up at the win- 
 dow and cursing my cowardice. Why did I not dare 
 to put foot in the vines and climb up the side of the 
 
 191
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 house to the open window ? At least I would know if 
 Florentine had been there. 
 
 The minutes passed, I don't know how many. And 
 then I thought I heard a rustle as of some light-footed 
 person, and, out of the deepened shadows of the 
 night, I saw a slender form creep around the house. 
 It was Florentine, but before I could speak, she had 
 grasped the vines and was going up the outside of the 
 old Castle. With a surety of step that told me it was 
 not the first time she had entered her room in that 
 way, she swung herself up, using the stone steps and 
 the rings, and in another instant she had stepped into 
 her own window and disappeared. 
 
 But she was scarcely quicker than I ; with a sudden 
 determination I dashed out of the thicket into which I 
 had retreated. I sped over the open space and 
 reached the vine clad wall here, grasping the vines, 
 just as Florentine had done, I swung myself up by 
 taking step above step in the stones among the heavy 
 growth, and noting, as I climbed, how firmly they 
 had been fastened to the wall. 
 
 Three feet below Florentine's room I stopped and 
 rattled the vines. In an instant she was at the open 
 window, holding her hand to her heart in alarm. 
 
 I put up my finger for caution. Then, by signs and 
 motions, I signalled to her to come out and join me in 
 the woods. 
 
 I can say now, truthfully and candidly, that I did 
 not know what was in my own mind when I beckoned 
 her to follow me. And she declared afterwards that 
 she did not know what emotion impelled her to pack 
 her satchel and obey. But she came down the stone 
 
 192
 
 THE STAIRWAY OF VINES 
 
 stairway on the wall to the ground and I stood below 
 and caught her in my arms. 
 
 I know that I was thinking of Sir Charles as well as 
 of Florentine, but mostly of Florentine; and she said 
 later that she was thinking of Sir Charles and me, 
 but mostly of me. I knew that I was a free man and 
 that I could take her out of harm's way to the home 
 of her Aunt Faith in London or elsewhere. Perhaps 
 in my sub-conscious mind there was a premonition 
 that it was not safe for her to remain in her room 
 with that stairway on the wall leading straight up to 
 her casement. 
 
 193
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 SHE stumbled, and as I caught her, her hand flew 
 to the breast of her gown; I remembered that 
 she carried the pistol which she took from the 
 coat of Sir Charles in the hall. 
 
 "Give the pistol to me," I advised as we hurried 
 along the path striking a narrower trail which led into 
 a still blacker woods. 
 
 She stopped still and looked at me. 
 
 "I gave it to you to-night in the woods," reminded 
 she. 
 
 "You gave me the pistol to-night in the woods?" 
 questioned I incredulously. 
 
 "Yes," she affirmed suddenly leaning against me 
 for support. "I gave it to you over there, when I 
 was returning from Pearl's lodge don't you remem- 
 ber?" 
 
 My lapse of memory perplexed her ; so I waited ; 
 then I said very gently : "Tell it to me, I have forgot- 
 ten." 
 
 And, then, though much surprised, she related how 
 she had gone to the little lodge with Pearl, and how, 
 as she was returning, she had run right into me in the 
 woods. Knowing that I was unarmed she had taken 
 the pistol from her bosom and had handed it to me. 
 
 "You did not speak," she pursued, "but you took it 
 194
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 and put it in your pocket ! Don't you recall ?" queried 
 she, anxiously, "how dark the Castle looked except for 
 the one bright light in Cousin Charles' room and how 
 he came to the window and looked out?" 
 
 I nodded, too choked to speak. 
 
 "And he heard us, for he called 'Who's there ?' and 
 we stood motionless in the dark until he went back 
 and put out the light." 
 
 Florentine told me further, but the fact of interest 
 to me was that the poor girl had felt chilled by my 
 manner, for I had said nothing but had slipped off into 
 the woods, leaving her standing there. 
 
 "I told you not to use the pistol if you could help 
 it," declared she. 
 
 "Never mind," I replied absently, for I was think- 
 ing of my double, now armed and prowling in the 
 woods for it must have been he and I remembered 
 Sir Charles and the prodigious diamond which he had 
 flashed so recklessly in the open road. 
 
 And I thought of the stairway on the wall. 
 
 "It had slipped my memory," I said reassuringly. 
 But I thanked God that she did not lie sleeping in her 
 room with that stairway of vine and stone offering 
 open invitation to her window. 
 
 A great criminal lawyer once told me that man 
 does not want to kill; but when he goes to steal that 
 which a more generous fate has bestowed upon an- 
 other, his hand becomes his enemy; he must cut and 
 choke, slash and murder into silence all that lies be- 
 tween him and the thing he would possess ; murder is 
 a necessity, a hideous but an unavoidable afterthought. 
 
 195
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Quickly banishing such meditations from my mind 
 I smiled reassuringly at Florentine. 
 
 "Where are we going?" I asked in a whisper, for 
 she had become the leader. 
 
 She checked her steps. "Why, I don't know," 
 she said, "if if you don't!" 
 
 "I'm going back to London and I'm going to take 
 you with me to be married." 
 
 "That is where I am going; but, first now right 
 now I must tell you." 
 
 She had paused in her rapid walk for we were now 
 out of ear-shot of the Castle. 
 
 "I have seemed weak and not knowing my own 
 mind," she began, "but it was only because I did 
 not have time I did not have a chance to decide; 
 my decision is now reached. I am running away with 
 you to London, but I cannot become your wife." 
 
 "You must explain," I found words to say. 
 
 But her explanation was incoherent; the strain of 
 the last few days, the fatigue and the sudden disclos- 
 ure had all unnerved her, and she could not speak 
 clearly. 
 
 But I learned that it was her intention to go to Lon- 
 don and there to escape to foreign shores far away 
 from the Hadleys in order that she might see and 
 know her mother the woman whom Aunt Faith had 
 so horribly depicted to her to-night. 
 
 "She is my mother after all," sobbed Florentine, 
 "and no matter what she is, I must find her; if she is 
 bad, utterly worthless, so much the more reason why 
 I should be with her. 
 
 "And she is young scarcely twenty years older 
 196
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 than I," she went on, speaking rapidly. "I have often 
 pictured her as I supposed she would have been if 
 she had lived. But, oh," here her weeping broke out 
 afresh "the picture Aunt Faith showed me to-night 
 the awful photograph, the bold, staring eyes, the 
 shameful gown it seems too terrible I must be in 
 a nightmare !" 
 
 Florentine hid her face, turning her head away 
 from me. 
 
 I took a cigar out of my pocket and, striking a 
 match, I leisurely pulled the air current through the 
 soothing roll of fragrant weed; even this slight exer- 
 tion did me good. 
 
 She turned on me suddenly. 
 
 "I don't believe you are listening," she said. 
 
 "I'm not," I remarked coolly. 
 
 "But you ought to know " 
 
 "Not if it doesn't interest me," I observed. 
 
 "And now," returned I, "it is my turn to speak. I 
 believe what you tell me about your mother, or I'm 
 trying to believe it but the fact is that two can travel 
 more compactly than one. And after we are married 
 in London to-morrow we will go to this this 
 mining camp where she is " 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that you do not care even 
 now that you know all?" 
 
 "That's what I'm saying," retorted I. "And we will 
 talk the whole matter over some other time when " 
 
 She brightened so that I knew where her heart led ; 
 and slowly we went on striking deeper into the woods. 
 
 It is something to be joyous and twenty ; before we 
 had proceeded far I had made her promise that we 
 
 197
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 would be married as we planned. I saw that she had 
 been a lady all her life ; a belle much courted and 
 petted; and it was difficult for her, all at once, to 
 realize herself as a social outcast a fact for which 
 I was profoundly thankful. 
 
 "To-morrow," I said. 
 
 "Unless Cousin Charles stops us," she added white- 
 lipped again. 
 
 "I'll murder him cold-blooded," I swore as we has- 
 tened our steps. "Now, no more of our troubles until 
 I give you leave to speak of them again/' I com- 
 manded with an assumption of authority. 
 
 And to this she agreed. 
 
 "But this path?" I questioned, "where does it go?" 
 
 "Oh, this footway is called the Sepoy cabin run ; 
 it cuts two miles off the way, and it leads straight to 
 the London road. I've taken it many a time when I 
 was a child; it is where Pearl, the Sepoy girl, used 
 to bring me to visit her." 
 
 "Does Pearl live here in the woods?" 
 
 "Yes, that is her little lodge over there. She lives 
 there with a servant, but, daytimes, if she is lonely, 
 she comes to the Castle." 
 
 "I should think she would often feel solitary." 
 
 "Oh, it is pleasant enough in the day, and, when I 
 am at the Castle, I frequently walk here to see Pearl ; 
 it is very near, and to-night " 
 
 Florentine paused suddenly. "Oh, dear, I am so 
 tired." she complained, "I feel as though I could not 
 go another step." 
 
 "Let me help you," I returned, taking the satchel 
 from her hand I had previously tried to take it 
 
 198
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 but she had deftly swung it away from me "and, 
 here, let us sit down awhile and rest." 
 
 Florentine sank upon a log over which I stumbled 
 as I looked for a seat for her and I knelt by her side. 
 It was densely dark, so dark that the blackness hung 
 like a curtain around us. But, at one side of the path, 
 a little higher, stood the tiny lodge in which the Sepoy 
 girl lived. Florentine's eyes followed mine as I gazed 
 at the light in the little house. 
 
 "Poor Pearl," she sighed, "I am so sorry for her." 
 
 "Is she unhappy?" 
 
 "Only that she loves Cousin Charles!" 
 
 "How can she love such a brute?" I asked, thinking 
 of Sir Charles in all the unattractive guises in which 
 I had seen him. 
 
 "Oh," said Florentine, avoiding my eyes, "it's an 
 old story they were together in India and Pearl 
 loved him and when he came back well, she fol- 
 lowed." 
 
 "I don't wonder you say 'poor girl' if her happi- 
 ness is tied up in such a creature as he." 
 
 The tears came into Florentine's eyes. "I can't 
 tell you how sorry I am for her. And to-night when 
 she heard or she thought I was going to marry him 
 she was almost beside herself with jealousy." 
 
 "Did she tell you?" 
 
 "Yes, the wretched girl told me confessed it all 
 to me how she had tried to kill me " Floren- 
 tine stopped. 
 
 "Was it she who shot up the feather boa that was 
 around my neck?" 
 
 199
 
 Florentine inclined her head in a gesture that meant 
 yes. 
 
 "And were you out here in the cabin with her when 
 we were searching for you ?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, the poor creature wanted so much to talk to 
 me before she slept and she could say nothing before 
 Cousin Charles. She saw the diamond he had brought 
 for me, and was maddened by it. So, when you were 
 reviving Mr. Pancoast, I slipped away with her; I 
 was a comfort to her." 
 
 I felt relieved and I voiced it. 
 
 "Oh !" exclaimed Florentine, hiding her face in her 
 hands. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked, adding a few terms to be 
 found only in the lover's dictionary of words and 
 phrases. 
 
 "Oh, it was so dreadful " 
 
 "What ?" 
 
 "What she told me. I can scarcely believe it 
 that she would be so desperate " 
 
 "Don't cry," I said, after the aimless fashion of 
 man, as I found a seat on a log alongside her. "When 
 you are married, Pearl will, perhaps, get the dear ob- 
 ject of her affections back again." 
 
 "No, oh no ! He has cast her off utterly, poor girl. 
 And now she says there is nothing but to kill her- 
 self. Oh, it is too terrible." Florentine shook as 
 with a chill. 
 
 "Where did he get that wonderful diamond?" she 
 asked. 
 
 I could not answer, and, as she still trembled, 
 I talked as best I could, and we sat together and 
 
 200
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 watched the light in the little lodge; Pearl was still 
 awake and we saw her form in shadow as she moved 
 about the room. 
 
 "She feels so conscience-stricken about about to- 
 night !" 
 
 "About to-night! " 
 
 Florentine did not have time to explain for the 
 light in the lodge went out. And a minute later, 
 there was a muffled report, a pistol shot ! 
 
 Florentine jumped to her feet with a cry. 
 
 "It is Pearl ! She said she was going to take her 
 own life." 
 
 She swayed, and before I could catch her she sank 
 to the ground, a crumpled heap. I got down on my 
 knees by the side of her and called her name ; she did 
 not answer; I begged her to speak, to move, to give 
 some sign; but she was motionless. Poor child! I 
 did not wonder for she had been through so much. 
 I was almost relieved that she had lost consciousness, 
 for she was breathing regularly and her cheeks though 
 pale were warm. I took her hand and felt that her 
 heart was beating steadily; it was nature's way of 
 giving rest. 
 
 And then I did something for which I ought always 
 to be sorry. I left Pearl in her cabin to her fate, and, 
 stooping, I put my arms under Florentine and lifted 
 her. Though she is not small she seemed light as a 
 feather, and, throwing her across my shoulder, I 
 made my way as fast as possible along the path in the 
 woods to the open space beyond. 
 
 It was not until we had reached the end of the 
 way where it opened into the road, that I stopped and 
 20 1
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 laid my burden on the ground. She was still uncon- 
 scious, but I did not need the first slant of yellow 
 from the East to tell me that she was breathing; it 
 was shock and exhaustion. At the side of the road 
 there ran a little rill of water and I scooped up some 
 of it in my hands and brought it to her. Slowly she 
 opened her eyes and I could see that she knew me. 
 She struggled to get up but at the exertion her 
 'breath came in little gasps. It was one of those in- 
 teresting moments in life when something heroic 
 ought to be said. But all I could think of was a mis- 
 erable, 
 
 "How do you feel?" 
 
 And Florentine, as soon as she could speak, said 
 she was feeling much better and she was sorry that 
 she had been so much trouble and where was the 
 satchel ? 
 
 I had forgotten it and I told her so. 
 
 "Oh, please please go back and get it," she plead- 
 ed. She added that it wasn't very far and she must 
 have it. 
 
 I reasoned with her but to no avail. 
 
 "It has something in it, something I want very 
 much," she begged, "do please go back and get it." 
 
 "We'll buy a dozen just like it in Paris to-morrow," 
 I protested. 
 
 But no, she must have the one that was in that 
 satchel. So back I went along the wood road which 
 was now quite distinct in the promise of the dawn. 
 
 I found the satchel just where we had left it, in 
 sight of Pearl's cabin. I stooped to pick it up and, as 
 I rose, I looked across the tree tops to the West. The 
 
 202
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 turrets of the Castle were faintly outlined against 
 the sky and I could imagine its inmates asleep in that 
 heavy sleep of absolute unconsciousness which comes 
 just before the dawn. 
 
 Involuntarily I could not have told why I took 
 a few steps in that direction. Yes, there, like a vision 
 of shadowland was the old building; its castellated 
 turrets sharp now through the trees. 
 
 It was dark but I fancied I could see the vine-cov- 
 ered wall and the outside stairway ! And I knew 
 that it led toward the room where Sir Charles lay 
 heavily sleeping; how easy it would be to go and 
 square accounts with him, now, even as he had tried 
 to square them with me before. 
 
 The temptation was great and I wrestled with it. 
 In the morning he would awake and I knew him too 
 well to imagine that he would play an inactive 
 part. 
 
 Yet there was Florentine ; I could have no thoughts 
 which I must shield from her clear eyes. I turned 
 from the Castle and started back, satchel in hand. 
 
 "Oh !" an exclamation of pain broke from my lips. 
 I stooped and felt my foot ; I had stepped upon a 
 sharp knife and the blade had run into my shoe. 
 
 I extricated the dagger for dagger it was and 
 examined the sole of my shoe; the point had merely 
 slit the inner leather. 
 
 Holding the dagger up in the semi-darkness I 
 looked at it in wonder for it was of glistening steel 
 and its handle was a marvel in Indian workmanship, 
 silver and gold and mixed metals! Thrusting the 
 trophy into my pocket I now hurried along for I 
 
 203
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 had delayed some minutes but by half running I 
 soon covered the distance. 
 
 When I returned, Florentine was on her feet, 
 straightening her hat, and putting the intelligent lit- 
 tle touches to her gown which women understand so 
 well. She greeted me with a smile and I was de- 
 lighted to see that there was color in her face once 
 more. 
 
 "Now," said I, "you stay here while I go and look 
 up a cab ; there's usually a night hawk to be found be- 
 tween four and five in the morning even on a country 
 road." 
 
 But Florentine said she would not' let me go with- 
 out her. So, together, we two, looking well, Flor- 
 entine laughed aloud as she got her first dawn glimpse 
 of me we two started along the high road to Lon- 
 don, grip in hand, but lighter of heart than we had 
 been for many hours. As for Florentine she never 
 looked prettier, for she wore the neat little walking 
 suit of the night before, and she had a marvelous 
 method all her own of looking trim. But I thought 
 as I caught a glimpse of my torn dress coat that a 
 more disreputable looking customer than I never 
 strayed into London. 
 
 "You were gone so long," she exclaimed. 
 
 "I stopped to get this," I answered reaching into 
 my pocket for the dagger. 
 
 "Isn't it a beauty?" 
 
 She took it from my hand and gave one fright- 
 ened glance at it. 
 
 "Why, it's a dagger," she cried, "and" looking at 
 her hands and mine "it is covered with blood !" 
 
 204
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 "Not blood!" I ejaculated incredulously, as I 
 stooped to pick it up. 
 
 "It is blood," she shuddered, shrinking away from 
 it; "and the dagger oh, I know it well I have seen 
 it a thousand times it belongs to Cousin Charles; 
 for years he has slept with it almost at his hand, by 
 the side of his bed." 
 
 "Florentine are you positive?" I returned consid- 
 erably shaken. 
 
 She reaffirmed what she had said. 
 
 "Then," pondered I, "how did it get into the woods, 
 all covered with fresh blood, at this hour?" 
 
 To my surprise perhaps because she had other 
 troubles on her mind Florentine did not seem trou- 
 bled. "He must have thrown it away and perhaps 
 a wounded animal stepped upon it." 
 
 It was very far from explaining matters to me but 
 I was only too glad that she passed so lightly over that 
 which was of most ominous import to me. In a min- 
 ute she had forgotten it. 
 
 In the suburbs we had the good fortune to find a 
 cab, and Florentine was smiling again as I helped her 
 in. 
 
 "See," she said, "it is getting rosy in the East, and 
 somewhere I think a skylark is singing." 
 
 I didn't care anything about the skylark, but, as I 
 looked at Florentine and noted the pink flush in her 
 cheeks, I hoped that a soft gay cloud was rainbowing 
 the world for me. 
 
 "Do be careful of the satchel," she cautioned me as 
 I flung it under the seat. 
 
 205
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "It's all right," I said and then I fell into a moody 
 reverie from which Florentine roused me. 
 
 "What is the matter?" she asked, "I hope it isn't 
 any more trouble," she added, nervously. 
 
 "Not trouble exactly, but I'm wondering where I 
 am going to take you at half past four in the morn- 
 ing." This was one of my perplexities but I had to 
 admit that I was also terribly oppressed by the uncer- 
 tainties of the night, the outcome of which I was 
 not yet to know. 
 
 "I could go to Aunt Faith's," she said doubtfully. 
 
 "And set the servants talking." 
 
 "Or to Lady Hensington's." 
 
 "And set all London gossiping! A nice news item 
 it would be, how Roman Elliott, an American, had 
 eloped with the reigning beauty of the London season, 
 and how, pursued by her cousin, Sir Charles " 
 
 Cousin Charles! It was an unfortunate reminder 
 for us both. 
 
 Florentine frowned and bit her lip and then she 
 made a thousand apologies lest I should judge her 
 forward for running off with me this way, for she 
 thought I was reproaching her as men do reproach 
 women who let themselves be led. 
 
 I put my head out of the cab and gave the driver 
 an order. 
 
 "Now," I explained, "I've settled matters ; you're 
 to come to my apartment house with me. At the en- 
 trance there is a reception room and there you can 
 remain until London wakes up. Meanwhile I will see 
 what the combined efforts of two men, one of them a 
 Japanese valet, can do, to improve my appearance." 
 
 206
 
 ALONG THE NARROW TRAIL 
 
 "You do look rather odd. Why !" she exclaimed as 
 her eyes fell on my face, "your chin is badly hurt and 
 there's a big cut on your head " 
 
 "The bullet grazed my chin and I think I accumu- 
 lated the head slash when the Constable forcibly made 
 my acquaintance." 
 
 "And there's a terrible lump on your forehead 
 and it's turning blue." 
 
 "Experience often results fn blueness," I said with 
 the wisdom that befits my years. 
 
 I touched my chin to sec if it was still bleeding, 
 and this brought Florentine's mind back to the bullet. 
 She put her hand over her eyes as if to shut out a 
 memory. 
 
 207
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 
 
 BUT now we were in London, rattling over the 
 pavements in the dim light of the grey dawn. 
 "We are almost there," I assured her, "and 
 you will soon be where you can rest a little while 
 until the city wakens." 
 
 As I spoke we touched the Strand, and along we 
 sped until we drew up in front of one of the most 
 pretentious apartment houses in London, the smart 
 structure in which Lady Hensington had taken a 
 furnished flat for me. 
 
 I helped Florentine out of the cab and past the 
 sleepy doorman, into the little reception room, where 
 I saw that she was made as comfortable as its limited 
 quarters would permit. Then I left her to go up 
 to my apartment. 
 
 As I passed the desk I asked casually, and as a mat- 
 ter of course, if any mail had come for me. The 
 clerk, reaching into my box, took out a letter. I 
 glanced at it hastily; it bore a trans- Atlantic stamp 
 and I saw that it was in Cousin Irene's handwriting. 
 Mechanically I opened it for I knew what it would 
 contain. An account of the doings of the foreign mis- 
 sionary society of Beverly; of the church work; gos- 
 sip anent the Ladies' Club and the usual family hap- 
 penings with some health hints from Irene. I ran 
 
 208
 
 THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 
 
 my eye over it carelessly, then I perused it again, 
 this time with care, and this is what I read : 
 
 Dear Cousin Roman : 
 
 It will not surprise you to learn that I have accepted 
 the call to the American College at Constantinople. I will 
 start for the college at once. You remember that I told 
 you that I thought it my duty to teach the Turks and it is 
 an old dream of duty come true in reality. I have wanted 
 to go for years the missionary prompting has been 
 strong, but the trouble has been about father; I could not 
 leave him to keep house for himself. Now, however, 1 
 have found a competent woman servant who will be cook 
 and whose daughter is a capable waitress. The daughtei 
 has a husband who has references of ten years in his last 
 place to show that he is a trusty butler, and old James, 
 the coachman, has promised to remain. With such help 
 the path seemed providentially made clear, and I am start- 
 ing at once for that heathen land. 
 
 Father will go with me as far as Paris, as he has busi- 
 ness in that city, and, as we are going to stop over in 
 London, we will see you there. We sail to-morrow on 
 the Baltic, and will be in London almost as soon as you 
 get this letter. 
 
 Your affectionate Cousin, 
 
 IRENE. 
 
 I held the letter in my hand pondering; so Irene 
 was on her way to Constantinople, and she and Uncle 
 Jason would be here almost any day. I looked at the 
 date of the letter and then at the sailing chart which 
 hung over the desk. 
 
 "When is the Baltic due ?" I asked the clerk. 
 
 "She got in Liverpool yesterday, sir," said the 
 clerk. 
 
 "Then her passengers are in London now?" 
 
 I stood in front of the desk wondering, 
 209
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "I don't suppose you would know if a lady and 
 gentleman, a lady with spectacles and an elderly gen- 
 tleman, called on me yesterday." 
 
 The clerk woke up. "Why, yes, sir, there was a 
 lady called here last night, and we let her go up to 
 your rooms." 
 
 "Was she a young woman, rather short and thick- 
 set, an American lady?" 
 
 The clerk looked doubtful. 
 
 "She wasn't short nor thick-set, sir, but she was an 
 American, no doubt about that, and she said she'd go 
 right up and it would be all right." 
 
 "Of course of course!" I said hastily. "But was 
 there an old gentleman with her?" 
 
 No, the clerk had seen no gentleman except the six 
 or eight men who had called to se"e the lady rather 
 late but, no! no elderly gentleman. 
 
 I thought at the time that the clerk was rather con- 
 strained in his manner, but I explained it then as be- 
 ing due to the hour, only I recalled it afterwards. 
 
 So six or eight gentlemen had called to see Irene 
 late last night. It was a little strange for I had 
 never known Irene to have a gentleman caller; dur- 
 ing the whole length and breadth of her thirty odd 
 years she has professed a vehement scorn for men 
 as companions. Perhaps it was a mistake. 
 
 Well, they were here, and Uncle Jason evidently 
 had gone to a hotel, leaving Irene to make herself 
 comfortable in my apartment during my absence; 
 still it was odd considering Irene's sense of propriety. 
 I remembered, now, that I had left word that I did 
 not know when I would be back and they had stupidly 
 
 210
 
 THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 
 
 interpreted it to mean that I had gone out of town; 
 but it did not matter so much. 
 
 So Irene, practical, commonsense Irene, with the 
 square-toed shoes, and the broad, practical figure was 
 here. And in the reception room was delicate high 
 bred Florentine as different from Irene in type as a 
 love bird is different from a sparrow. But I could 
 now take Florentine up and the dear girl could smooth 
 her feathers. Irene was a lady brought up to dis- 
 pense New England hospitality, and would be nice to 
 Florentine no matter how their ideals might differ. 
 
 In the reception room I found Florentine looking 
 dainty and sweet and half asleep in a nest of pillows. 
 I roused her though it seemed a pity to do so, and 
 she said she wasn't asleep and wasn't tired and that 
 she was perfectly comfortable where she was. I 
 insisted, however, and, after I had explained matters, 
 I put Florentine and the satchel in the lift and we 
 went spinning up to my apartment. 
 
 "I suppose of course the lady isn't up yet," I 
 said to the lift-boy, "that is, you haven't seen her this 
 morning?" 
 
 It was a foolish question for it was hardly five 
 o'clock. But his answer rather surprised me. 
 
 "No, sir, she ain't up yet, which ain't to be won- 
 dered at, sir, considering that she ain't been to bed 
 long. Her company didn't go till morning, sir, and 
 she's been singing most of the night since." 
 
 Singing! I did not recall the first hint of a musical 
 bent in Irene as long as I had known her, and we 
 were children together; certainly I had never heard 
 of her singing until morning. 
 
 211
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "How delightful!" exclaimed Florentine, as we 
 stepped out of the elevator, "I am sure I shall like 
 your Cousin Irene; I do so like music." 
 
 We went along the dimly lighted hall to my parlor 
 door and I put in the key and stood fumbling with 
 the lock. 
 
 "There are six rooms in my suite," I explained. 
 "This takes us into the parlor." 
 
 The key did not work ; I had taken the wrong one, 
 so I tried another. But before I could turn it, the 
 door was opened cautiously and the head of Yama, 
 my Japanese valet, shot out. 
 
 "Good !" cried he, when he saw me. "Very good ! 
 Much good! Beautiful business that you come home!" 
 
 Then, as his eyes rested on Florentine, he gave a 
 click-click of dismay. "Wait minute, wait minute," 
 he said. "Wait, I speak to you first." 
 
 Then followed a most extraordinary manoeuvre. 
 Yama closed the door in our faces and sped back 
 through the rooms. We could hear the patter-patter 
 of his slippered feet as he ran through the drawing- 
 room and the rooms beyond. A minute later he ap- 
 peared in the kitchen door of the flat and stood there 
 beckoning wildly for me to come back and enter that 
 way. 
 
 "Certainly not!" I said in some annoyance as I 
 again put my key in the lock, "we will go in the draw- 
 ing-room!" This time it was the right key and the 
 door opened. Throwing it back I held it wide for my 
 dear Lady Florentine to enter. 
 
 "Welcome to my home !" I exclaimed, "and to my 
 hearth and sofa cushions." 
 
 212
 
 THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 
 
 I got no further in the pretty little speech I was im- 
 provising, for I stopped in the utmost bewilderment 
 and looked around. Florentine, too, stared in sur- 
 prise, for an odor of violets pervaded the air, an odor 
 that was heavy as a hot-house; and upon the chairs 
 were violet silk belongings, lingerie, hosiery and tea 
 gowns; and on the floor were piled gowns of all de- 
 scriptions, pale violet and deep violet. On everything, 
 on the tea table, the piano, and even on my desk, was 
 heaped violet lingerie. The whole room billowed and 
 cascaded with ruffles of violet and lace, while the un- 
 mistakable odor of violet sachet powder swept to- 
 ward us in great heavy waves. We might as well have 
 tried to pick our way through an importer's em- 
 porium. Through an open window there swept a 
 breeze which stirred the dozens of violet silk hosiery 
 that hung like badly behaved portieres over the chair 
 backs. 
 
 "Great Spain!" I exclaimed. 
 
 Could this be the orderly little flat I had left behind 
 only yesterday, and what had happened to it and how ! 
 
 I looked at Florentine ; after one glance around she 
 had stepped back into the hall and I could see that 
 her face had turned flame red. 
 
 A violet silk corset with strings yards long hung 
 over the Venetian screen at the door. 
 
 "Wait, Florentine!" I cried, for she was heading 
 for the elevator. "Wait and I will I can explain." 
 Though how I was going to explain I didn't know. I 
 looked for Yama, he was crouching in the doorway 
 of the bedroom. 
 
 "What in Hell does this mean ?" I demanded. 
 213
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Yama wrung his hands. "Much bad business, too 
 bad, I say, too bad!" 
 
 "Of course it's too bad ! What why didn't you 
 tell me, you miserable heathen?" 
 
 Yama gesticulated and, keeping out of my way, 
 tried to say that he wanted to tell me but that I would 
 not give him a chance. I reached the bedroom door 
 in two strides and grasped him by the shoulders. 
 
 "Whose clothes are these," I cried, "and where 
 did they come from?" 
 
 Yama, with his finger on his lips, shook his head 
 and pointed to the inner bedroom. I could dimly guess 
 that there was an occupant, for there was a sound 
 within, as of a nap disturbed and a long drawn out 
 yawn ; a sleepy feminine voice came floating out : 
 
 "Who's there?" 
 
 Yama chuckled and looked at me. 
 
 "She want many things, all time ; much business to 
 wait on her when she awake," he whispered. 
 
 The sleepy yawn, prolonged beyond all reason this 
 time, came drifting from my bed chamber; I could 
 guess that, like the drawing-room, it reeked of violets, 
 and the voice, now petulant, demanded again to know 
 who was there. 
 
 "It's Yama, Miss," replied my valet in the tone of 
 one who has been subdued by experience. 
 
 An imperious feminine voice came sharply forth. 
 
 "Well, keep quiet out there, you Pussyfoot, and. 
 if you can't keep quiet, then bring my cup of coffee." 
 
 There was no reply for Yama's tongue was tempo- 
 rarily paralyzed. 
 
 "Hello, there, Pussyfoot! Where are you?" 
 214
 
 THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 
 
 "She call me the Pussyfoot all time," explained 
 Yama with a grin, "because I walk so soft. She great 
 lady, she been havia' callers all time since she came 
 las' night. She say she goin' stay a week." 
 
 "Not if I know it," I remarked, with additions as I 
 shook my fist at the bedroom door, but like Yama, 
 my tones were low. "You tell her she can't stay an 
 hour get her out of here pretty quick, do you hear 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I try." 
 
 Then I dashed out into the hall after Florentine. 
 Her nose was tilted at a slight angle, but she made no 
 comment as I put her in the elevator. 
 
 "Your Cousin Irene is a lady of rather luxurious 
 tastes," she observed as the lift touched the ground 
 floor. 
 
 "Don't say a word now, Florentine," I begged. 
 
 I escorted her to the door and from somewhere, I 
 don't know just how I managed it, I got a hansom 
 and put her into it. 
 
 With an incoherent, "I'll be back soon," I dashed 
 back into the house providentially the clerk was not 
 at the desk or I might have added real murder to my 
 crimes and upstairs to my apartment I went as fast 
 as a lift can raise a man. Here I humbly begged ad- 
 mittance at the kitchen door, for I was still in my 
 dress suit and my appearance was that of a man who 
 had, to say the least, been out all night. I wanted to 
 fight, but I had to take it out in asking for soap and 
 water, for Florentine was down at the door in a cab 
 and there was no telling what would occur in my 
 absence. 
 
 215
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Yama brought fresh clothes out to the kitchen, and 
 shaving water, and while he worked he chatted, with 
 various savage interjections from me. There wasn't 
 much to tell except that the lady arrived late the night 
 before with many trunks and that she and Yama had 
 been unpacking them nearly all night. During the in- 
 tervals, between trunks, so to speak, the lady had en- 
 livened the apartment with song and from time to 
 time, as callers came to pay their respects, Yama had 
 made fresh coffee. "Much coffee and cigarettes," he 
 explained, as my glance took in the trays and the 
 debris scattered around the usually spic-and-span 
 kitchen. 
 
 "Yama busy most all night," he went on defen- 
 sively ; "she stay week, but Yama not stay here week ; 
 if she stay, Yama go." 
 
 "Don't you be in a hurry," I said. "What is she 
 doing now?" 
 
 The clatter of a coffee cup and saucer rattling down 
 upon the hard wood floor of my bedroom answered 
 the question. 
 
 "After she drink, she threw cup and saucer out of 
 bed on floor," explained Yama; "she spoil two rugs." 
 
 I hadn't time to hear more for Florentine was 
 waiting down in the hansom and my appearance now, 
 while not quite up to usual form, was certainly much 
 improved. 
 
 I took the lift and dropped to the ground floor; at 
 the desk stood the clerk. I would stop a second, just 
 long enough to make a few inquiries about my violet 
 house-guest, and then! But, before I reached the 
 
 216
 
 THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 
 
 desk, a fresh surprise greeted me, one that drove 
 everything else out of my mind. 
 
 "A lady and gentleman to see you in the reception 
 room," said the hall clerk. 
 
 "A lady and gentleman to see me !" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, sir!" 
 
 "When did they arrive?" 
 
 "A minute ago, sir, and they said they'd wait, sir." 
 
 Here was a situation ! 
 
 Out, in a carriage at the door, sat my fiancee in 
 what frame of mind I did not dare to guess. 
 
 Upstairs, in my bachelor apartment, was an un- 
 named and unmentionable lady, soaked in violet and 
 flirtatious with silk lingerie. 
 
 And, in the reception room, awaiting me, just from 
 the Baltic, sat a lady and a gentleman. 
 
 217
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 COUSIN IRENE AND UNCLE JASON 
 
 THE worst had come, the blow had fallen and 
 I knew it. I did not need to look into the 
 reception-room to know who was there. Col- 
 lecting my scattered senses, I walked over and peeped 
 in. 
 
 There they were ! Upon the sofa, with her bags 
 and bundles methodically arranged around her, sat 
 Irene ! And by her side, his genial face aglow with 
 pleasurable anticipation, stood Uncle Jason. 
 
 I stepped into the reception-room and held out my 
 hand to them. I could not speak. Uncle Jason grasped 
 it and taking my silence for emotion, he shook it un- 
 til the tears came into my eyes. As for Irene, she laid 
 aside her handbag and arose, and, as I stooped to 
 greet her, she planted a cousinly kiss on my face. 
 
 "Well, how are you how are you!" ejaculated 
 Uncle Jason, "you're an early bird all right. But it's 
 none too early to see the sights of this town. Why, 
 I've been out and looked in some of the windows, and 
 I'll bet there's more bargains in London than in any 
 other city in the universe." 
 
 "Father went bargain hunting while I stopped in 
 the ladies' writing-room at the station to send a post- 
 card to the Dorcas Society," explained Irene. 
 
 "And I found 'em, too, and as soon as the stores 
 
 open " 
 
 218
 
 COUSIN IRENE AND UNCLE JASON 
 
 "And I must send a post-card to the Ladies' Club 
 of Beverly," saiu Irene. 
 
 And then they began asking me, both at once, how 
 I was, how I had been, and whether I liked London, 
 and if they had taken me by surprise coming the 
 way they did. I said ''yes" and "no" and "all right" 
 to everything, and while I answered the personal cate- 
 chism I debated what I would do with them and with 
 Florentine out in the hansom at the door. If Floren- 
 tine stood this ordeal pleasantly, I was reasonably 
 sure of a brick of a wife. 
 
 I looked at Uncle Jason ; his sturdy form clad in the 
 serviceable suit of a wideawake New England busi- 
 ness man, gave me confidence; he might be bald, but 
 his round pink face and his honest blue eyes showed 
 a world of good nature. As for Irene ! I must con- 
 fess that Irene was a problem, but I would tackle it. 
 
 "Come," I said to Uncle Jason, when we had talked 
 enough, "come with me, I want to tell you about some- 
 thing." 
 
 "It's a bargain, isn't it?" he cried delightedly, pick- 
 ing up his hat. "You stay here, Irene, I'm going out 
 for bargains." 
 
 "No, it isn't a bargain," I said, when I had got him 
 out into the hall, "it is a girl. The truth of it is that 
 I'm in a deuce of a scrape and, well ! you've got to 
 help me out of it. Do you want to hear all about it 
 now ?" 
 
 "I'm a Yankee," replied Uncle Jason. And I could 
 see the curiosity gleaming in his eyes. 
 
 "Well, listen !" I said. And before I knew it I had 
 poured into his ears the whole tale of the night be- 
 
 219
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 fore. He knew of my contemplated marriage to Flor- 
 entine, of how Sir Charles had tried to stop it, and 
 how we had had to fly to London at midnight. 
 
 He smiled delightedly bless his sympathetic old 
 heart when I told him that Florentine was out in 
 a cab, waiting for me and that we were to go to 
 her Aunt Faith's house to be married as soon as pos- 
 sible, for I thought I knew a way to get Aunt Faith 
 over to our side. 
 
 He was all attention until I had finished. Then he 
 exclaimed, with a hearty clasp of the hand : 
 
 "I'm with you. But, by George, I'd like to take a 
 fall out of that Sir Charles." 
 
 I did not tell him a thing I afterwards deeply re- 
 gretted the whole truth about Sir Charles, for I did 
 not mention the Hepworth diamond, nor did I harrow 
 his soul with a tale of Johnny, the Australian Crook, 
 my double! There were many points of mystery, 
 which for reasons I now know to have been unwise, 
 I kept to myself. 
 
 Nor did I breathe a word about Lady Kensington. 
 I did not want my uncle to know that I had acted the 
 part of a gentleman detective at the wedding reception 
 the night before, nor for the world would I have told 
 him I had defected my trust, even to save a girl from 
 a marriage that was utterly loathsome to her. 
 
 And, at best, I had merely promised Lady Hen- 
 sington that I would watch the Hepworth until she 
 could get someone else. 
 
 As for Florentine's secret her family disgrace I 
 came as near to it as I dared when I said : 
 
 "Uncle Jason, would you marry a woman whose 
 220
 
 COUSIN IRENE AND UNCLE JASON 
 
 family history was not all it should be not quite 
 conventional ?'' 
 
 My uncle's reply startled me : 
 
 "I don't know what I would do myself," he replied, 
 with a New England wink, "but I know what I'd tell 
 a boy of mine he ought to do! I'd say, 'My son, try 
 to get a girl who is good enough to sit down at the table 
 with your mother. These ladies of doubtful creed 
 are all right for wise old guys like your father, but 
 you my boy are too young to play with matches.' " 
 
 "But if it was only her family say her mother!" 
 
 "She'd come calling, and then it would be Hell !" 
 ejaculated my relative. "You can be damned glad 
 Florry's an orphan! One of these days it'll be your 
 Plymouth Rock duty to go and throttle that cousin of 
 hers. If it is money he's after be a good sport and 
 buy him off!" 
 
 This was not quite the answer I wanted, but I had to 
 be contented. 
 
 "Never mind about Sir Charles ! The thing now 
 is for you and Irene to stand by and help." 
 
 "We'll do it, and if Aunt Faith makes any kick- 
 up, I'll buy her the best brooch in London. I saw 
 one at a bargain this morning; it was in one of the 
 windows on this street." 
 
 "Never mind bargains nor Aunt Faith now," I an- 
 swered, "but think of Florentine, poor girl." 
 
 "Is she pretty?" asked Uncle Jason. 
 
 I tried to tell him how very pretty she was, but 
 words failed me. 
 
 "I'll take a look at her myself," he decided. And, 
 before I could stop him he was out at the cab and I 
 
 221
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 was introducing him to Florentine and they were shak- 
 ing hands and telling each other how very pleasant it 
 was to know each other. 
 
 ''Go and bring Irene," ordered Uncle Jason. 
 
 I wanted to tell him to go himself, but the old rascal 
 had climbed into the hansom and was busy talking to 
 Florentine. I could hear him asking her where the 
 best bargains could be found, and what she wanted for 
 a wedding present, and if she was going to make me 
 behave after I was married; and Florentine was get- 
 ting redder and redder, but enjoying it immensely. It 
 was "Florry" with Uncle Jason right away ! 
 
 And now for Irene. 
 
 I found my cousin still seated on the sofa in the 
 reception room. She had drawn a post-card from her 
 Boston bag and, with the help of the bellboy, was 
 describing London to the Ladies' Club at home. I 
 waited until they had finished, then my cousin, closing 
 her bag with a snap turned to me. 
 
 "Put down your bag, Irene," I begged. "I want to 
 talk to you." 
 
 Reluctantly she let it go out of her grasp, but she 
 still kept one eye on it as it lay on the sofa and she 
 might as well have held it. The handbag is a disease 
 which attacks the Boston lady with great virulence, 
 and I verily believe the Boston lady would rest more 
 comfortably in her coffin if she had her Boston bag 
 in her hand. Irene moved uneasily and picked up the 
 bag and laid it in her lap. Then she crossed her 
 hands and said: 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 The lady upstairs was like a nightmare on my mind 
 
 222
 
 COUSIN IRENE AND UNCLE JASON 
 
 and I knew that something must be done before Flor- 
 entine saw Irene. I looked at Irene ; my cousin had 
 sensibly raised her skirt in front to keep it from get- 
 ting dusty on the floor and her two capable feet, 
 broadly displayed, hinted at plenty of sole. Irene 
 liked solid things, and the sofa cushions by her order 
 had been removed to the further corner of the couch. 
 Sofa pillows are a great comfort or a great nuisance; 
 according to the woman; to Irene they were a nui- 
 sance. 
 
 "Well?" she repeated, straightening her rimless 
 spectacles. 
 
 "Irene," I asked suddenly and without preparation, 
 "do you like violets?" 
 
 "I despise them," answered Irene. "They are ener- 
 vating and a sufficient number of them will produce 
 insomnia ; they should never be tolerated in the living 
 or sleeping-room. Even their color is bad, for it is 
 well known that the violet pigment is saturated with a 
 fluid which acts detrimentally upon the optic nerve. 
 Applied to the skin it is still worse, for it is an irri- 
 tant." 
 
 "Irene," I pleaded, "would you do something to 
 please me?" 
 
 Irene hesitated; the Boston lady does not like to 
 commit herself. 
 
 "Irene," I went on so earnestly that my voice 
 shook, "will you say that you like violets and that 
 you do love violet color even if you don't?" 
 
 "But, my dear Roman !" 
 
 "Never mind, Irene, don't ask me why. But I'm 
 going to buy you some violet silk lingerie and I want 
 
 223
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 you to pack it in your suit case, plenty of it so it sticks 
 out, falls out, protrudes, cascades, anything, just so 
 somebody I mean everybody will think that you do 
 wear violet lingerie." 
 
 "Roman !" 
 
 Irene looked at me so suspiciously that I felt sorry 
 for her. Once upon a time a relative of ours went 
 suddenly insane and had to be taken to the asylum. 
 She was only a half-sister of Irene's step-grand- 
 mother and the insanity was of the harmless order. 
 But I know that Irene was thinking of her as she sat 
 there on the couch, staring at me. As for me I dis- 
 covered that I was kneeling on a cushion at her feet. 
 
 "Do you care for me, Irene, and do you want to 
 make me happy?" 
 
 Irene's brow cleared; she understood now, and it 
 was not insanity! But she wanted the matter settled 
 and as soon as possible. Her lips tightened. 
 
 "Cousin Roman," she said severely, though in the 
 half -gratified cadence which a woman always has on 
 tap for such a moment. "Cousin Roman, this is the 
 third time! And, as on each previous occcasion, I 
 must say no. You proposed to me once when we 
 were nine, and again when we were thirteen, but I had 
 to tell you that I could not marry you, and again I 
 repeat it, no!" 
 
 "Thank you, Irene, or no, I mean, yes! But the 
 violet lingerie, may I buy it for you ?" 
 
 "How highly improper!" 
 
 Tossing her head and gathering up her bags and 
 baggage my cousin Irene swept out of the reception- 
 room and out of the door to where Uncle Jason and 
 
 224
 
 COUSIN IRENE AND UNCLE JASON 
 
 Florentine still sat in the cab, chatting together and 
 laughing in a way to scandalize the neighborhood at 
 that hour of the morning. 
 
 "Say, Irene please, Irene," I gasped, clutching her 
 gown. 
 
 She turned and for the first time she saw me by 
 daylight. Something in my forlorn appearance must 
 have appealed to her, for she stopped and let me speak 
 to her. She would never tell me what I said nor how 
 I said it, but when I had finished Cousin Irene under- 
 stood that I was engaged to be married and that the 
 girl of girls was the one in the cab. 
 
 "And Irene, do say you like violets," I concluded. 
 Whether Irene began to tumble or not, I don't know; 
 but she was her father's daughter, and there was a 
 wise look in her spectacled eyes as I introduced her to 
 Florentine. Then she got into another hansom with 
 me and she let me buy her a tiny little bunch of vio- 
 lets no bigger than a cork. For Florentine I got a 
 bunch of lilies of the valley that emptied the florist's 
 stall. 
 
 Uncle Jason had wheedled Florentine into saying 
 that she was hungry and the two hansoms rolled over 
 to the Cecil where we all got out for breakfast. It 
 was Uncle Jason's breakfast and we sat down to a 
 feast that for bounty could not have been beaten in 
 the feudal days. To Uncle Jason's regret there was 
 no fried mush nor doughnuts, but he smothered his 
 discontent when Florentine declared that she could 
 not have eaten any if there had been a platter of them. 
 Once or twice during the breakfast the conversation 
 
 225
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 approached dangerously near to forbidden topics, as 
 when Irene said: 
 
 "In what color is your bedroom furnished, Cousin 
 Roman? I brought a brush broom holder from home 
 and it is pink " 
 
 "It goes charmingly with violet as you know, 
 Irene," I said with a telling glance. 
 
 "But your room, is it a violet room?" 
 
 "You know perfectly well it is violet," I replied. 
 And this time I stepped on her foot so violently that 
 Irene said, "Yes, of course !" 
 
 I knew at once that I ought to have informed Irene 
 that she was supposed to have occupied my apartment 
 the night before. 
 
 But w r hen I saw my cousin's clear cut ways and her 
 sensible tailor-made clothes, I knew the futility of it. 
 The frou frou of violet petticoats, the billowing laces, 
 the portierre of waving hosiery and the countless 
 yards of silken string were all too much at variance 
 with my cousin's external severity to be reconcilable. 
 Yet I grasped at a wisp. 
 
 "You know my room is violet," I repeated. 
 
 And Florentine, wise little girl, took no notice. 
 
 The two young women had taken to each other at 
 once as opposite currents attract. 
 
 Florentine, beautiful, high strung and romantic, pos- 
 sessed a magnetism for Irene, capable, pushing and 
 practical. There was a mutual admiration, and, as 
 they conversed, each was unconsciously taking a leaf 
 from the life book of the other. If only I could keep 
 them from comparing notes until I could see Irene 
 alone. 
 
 226
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE MISSING HEIRLOOM 
 
 ATTER breakfast Irene and Uncle Jason left us ; 
 Uncle Jason said we ought to be alone awhile 
 to plan, but before he went away my Uncle put 
 down in his memorandum book the full name and ad- 
 dress of Aunt Faith with a little diagram of how to 
 reach her house by the most direct route. 
 
 I promised when we had finished our conversation 
 to put Florentine in a cab and send her to Aunt Faith's, 
 for it wasn't strictly according to propriety, Irene said, 
 to run off and leave us in this manner. 
 
 But Cousin Irene, later, did permit, and force her- 
 self to admit that circumstances did alter cases, as 
 when she herself, ignoring the proprieties, went all 
 alone to buy a winter overcoat for the minister the 
 day the married ladies were all too busy to go yet it 
 was a deed that might have created talk ! 
 
 So we sat there, Florentine and I, in the little break- 
 fast room of the Cecil, and the dear girl let me light 
 a cigarette which I sadly needed as a nerve soother. 
 I smoked while she sat and watched me. 
 
 We tried to seem care-free, but there hovered over 
 us the shadow of a nameless dread, a thing of which 
 we did not dare to speak ; but I saw it in her eyes and 
 she beheld it mirrored in mine. The day was here 
 but we knew that it would bring trouble to us, though 
 how swift we did not then foresee. 
 
 227
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 At her side rested the satchel which she had never 
 allowed to get out of her sight one instant. I was 
 bound to be cheerful as long as I could, so I exclaimed 
 as her eyes wandered toward it anxiously for the 
 thousandth time: 
 
 "Now tell me what is in that precious satchel?" 
 
 Florentine blushed. 
 
 "I'm dying of curiosity," I pleaded. 
 
 "It is a gown !" 
 
 The satchel was small and my legal aptitude for 
 logic told me that it must be a dress that could be com- 
 pactly folded. I sat stirring a cup of after-breakfast 
 Bohea and thinking; I drained the cup and inverted it 
 over the saucer and revolved it three times as I had 
 seen a soothsayer do at Coney Island. 
 
 "Suppose, when I turn this cup, that the tea leaves 
 tell me it is a traveling dress," I hazarded, "would they 
 be correct?" 
 
 "Ye-es," admitted Florentine, "I had no gown at 
 Aunt Faith's that would be suitable, so I brought one 
 along." 
 
 As this was the first intimation I had had that a 
 traveling dress was really on the schedule, it was hi- 
 larious news indeed. 
 
 It was a good thing that the breakfast room at the 
 Cecil was dim, and that the waiter, having got Uncle 
 Jason's tip, American size, had gone away, for I 
 reached right over the table and squeezed her hands 
 and held them fast until she begged for them. 
 
 "And that reminds me," said Florentine, "of my 
 ring." 
 
 "Your ring, sweetheart?" 
 228
 
 THE MISSING HEIRLOOM 
 
 "My mother's ring; it was to be my wedding ring!" 
 Her face flushed painfully. 
 
 "Where is it and must I leave you to go and get it?" 
 I hastened to say. 
 
 "I dropped it last night at Lady Kensington's, but 
 I know where it fell ; it rolled under the big palm in 
 the front drawing-room, where I stood looking for 
 you. I wear it always by a gold cord around my neck 
 as a talisman, a symbol of what I supposed but last 
 night the cord snapped " 
 
 "It shall be a symbol of a perfectly rounded life to- 
 g^ther !" 
 
 "I think," she added with a touch of sentiment, 
 "that the cord must have parted just at the very mo- 
 ment I saw you." 
 
 I am not going to describe my sentiments, nor to 
 record what I said, but I went quite off my head. 
 There was about Florentine none of the arrogance that 
 goes with great beauty; she did not have that snob- 
 bishness that leaves a woman's face so pitifully plain 
 when beauty has fled. But the attitude of trying to 
 charm was new to me. Observation, aided by the 
 classics, had taught me that, if a woman likes a man, 
 it is part of the feminine campaign to make him think 
 that she does not; she treats him like a dog. What 
 wonder, say I, if he turns out to be a brute ! 
 
 The clock hands were rolling round and the break- 
 fast room was filling. 
 
 "Nine o'clock!" I exclaimed, "it is too early for 
 Aunt Faith's household to be astir." 
 
 Florentine said no, so I took her out and put her in 
 a cab, waving an adieu, as she drove off for Aunt 
 
 229
 
 Faith's abode. We had left the dear old lady at the 
 Castle the night before, but I knew that she would 
 return to her own domicile as soon as possible, for the 
 society of Sir Charles at the Castle would be none too 
 agreeable to her. 
 
 Sir Charles! My last view of him at the window 
 still sent a shiver through me as I recalled his sus- 
 picious, terror-struck face, lighted by the glare of the 
 room behind him. 
 
 And now for Lady Kensington. And here I must 
 confess I had my misgivings as well as my qualms of 
 conscience. How had that lady fared and how would 
 she greet me after my desertion of last night? I 
 wanted to be perfectly fair with her and I did not in- 
 tend to spare myself, but there were certain clauses in 
 our contract of which I intended to remind her if 
 necessary. 
 
 I drove around to Grosvenor Square and alighted in 
 front of her door. The vestibule stood wide open and 
 doormen and draymen were busy bringing out cases. 
 I knew these to be the wedding presents which, having 
 done duty the night before, were now to be shipped 
 to the ancestral palace of the ducal son-in-law, in 
 Italy. They were of all sizes and shapes, for Lady 
 Kensington had been buying up treasure chests for 
 weeks. 
 
 "They look so imposing," she had explained to me 
 when I asked her why she had nine Spanish coffer 
 boxes. 
 
 I made my way past the treasure chests and through 
 the front door and into the drawing-room. To my 
 
 230
 
 surprise, I found Lady Hensington there and waiting 
 for me. 
 
 "I have sent to your apartment six times since 
 seven o'clock," she said, glaring at me, "and now you 
 may tell me where you went when you disappeared 
 last night and where you have been this morning." 
 
 I muttered some feeble apology. 
 
 Lady Hensington broke forth. Her speech was 
 rather mixed, but the clearly-to-be-understood thing 
 was that I was no gentleman. I had gone away with- 
 out paying my respects to her ; I had sent an impudent 
 man from Scotland Yard to watch the wedding pres- 
 ents, and she had discharged him and well a tur- 
 quoise brooch, set in filigree, had been stolen. 
 
 "Anything else?" I asked. 
 
 Lady Hensington glared at me. 
 
 "Was the diamond all right ?" I asked. 
 
 "I don't know," was her astonishing reply. "I was 
 so disturbed that I didn't examine it, but the Scotland 
 Yard man handed me the velvet box which contained 
 it and I locked it away in my private treasure box 
 early this morning." 
 
 "Then it is safe," I observed with relief. 
 
 "Small thanks to you," sniffed she. "What have 
 you got to say for yourself?" she inquired, after an 
 awkward pause. 
 
 At this instant I chanced to glance down at the car- 
 pet and there under the palm just where she had 
 dropped it lay Florentine's ring her mother's wed- 
 ding ring, the ring that was to be our ring! 
 
 "Nothing," I said. 
 
 Lady Hensington rose, the fire flashing from her 
 231
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 eyes. I rose, too, but I kept my gaze on Florentine's 
 ring. I wanted to stoop and pick it up but Lady 
 Kensington advanced a step toward me and I did not 
 dare. 
 
 "I ought to have you arrested, Roman Elliott," she 
 said threateningly. 
 
 "Don't do it, Lady Hensington," I begged. 
 
 "I would if it were not for the memory of your 
 father." 
 
 Lady Hensington advanced another step, her voice 
 rising and her eyes snapping. 
 
 "Father's shoes would be rather too large for me 
 so I never try them on," I retorted with spirit. 
 
 Florentine's ring was almost under her foot. Would 
 I dare to stoop and pick it up or was it unsafe to 
 bend over and expose myself in that defenseless posi- 
 tion at such a time? I gave the ring a kick, bent stra- 
 tegetically and got it and put it safely in my vest 
 pocket. 
 
 "What are you going to do about that turquoise 
 brooch?" she demanded. "I've asked you three times 
 and you haven't heard me." 
 
 "Bwy another," I suggested. 
 
 "I've thought of that," she declared, "but it is 
 from the De Chambrey family, and it's an heirloom ; 
 was stolen from the palace in Venice, 1310, I believe, 
 and recovered in eighteen hundred and something in 
 Naples." 
 
 "Well, tell them it was stolen from this palace on 
 Grosvenor Square in 1900 and something and you 
 don't know when it will be recovered." I spoke 
 sharply, for old turquoise brooches set in filigree went 
 
 232
 
 THE MISSING HEIRLOOM 
 
 pale compared to two turquoise eyes framed in glory. 
 
 "Roman, you are impossible," declared Madame, 
 
 "and since you are of no use to me, you may as well 
 
 go." 
 
 I picked up my hat, cautiously keeping out of her 
 way. Perhaps I did her breeding an injustice, but her 
 foot looked menacing. 
 
 "By-the-by," she said, "they tell me that a man came 
 here last night, or rather, he came this morning, just 
 as the guests were leaving, and that he was the image 
 of you. The doorman let him pass for you. He went 
 up to see the wedding presents, and afterwards, went 
 out to supper.'* 
 
 "Perhaps it might have been I," I said foolishly 
 enough. 
 
 "Oh, he cut his oysters in half, put sugar in his 
 claret and ate two plates of soup," said Lady Ken- 
 sington conclusively. 
 
 "Perhaps then, he is the man who stole the turquoise 
 brooch," I replied as I backed into the hall. 
 
 Lady Kensington gasped ! 
 
 Here I thought it a good time to go before she 
 recovered ; so I said my au revoirs and departed, prom- 
 ising to call again that afternoon. 
 
 The butler, perhaps at a signal from Lady Kensing- 
 ton and perhaps by accident, slammed the front door 
 behind me and I stood upon the front steps, persona 
 nan grata in the house of my client. 
 
 In my anger I almost wished that I had not come to 
 London. I might have been at home, motor free and 
 soul satisfied with the other members of the law 
 firm of Bunnestead, \Yorthington & Co., instead of 
 
 233
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 standing here crushed figuratively; it was because I 
 was too obliging that this humiliation had come upon 
 me. I could have sent one of my partners to London. 
 There was Bunnestead. He might have come over 
 himself to help Lady Kensington with the settlements, 
 for she was afraid of the English lawyers. But, no, 
 Bunnestead had retired twenty years ago at the age of 
 sixty-five to die of old age at his country seat up the 
 Hudson. I had seen him but once since I joined the 
 firm ten years before. Then it was with regard to 
 putting my name on the firm stationery that I took 
 the pilgrimage up the Hudson. 
 
 Eloquently I had laid the case before him ; "I can't 
 do it, my boy," he had replied. "You will have to be 
 the 'Co.' until I die." 
 
 When I pressed him to tell me why I must wait un- 
 til the coming of so sad and so distant an event, he 
 leaned forward and winked at me. 
 
 "Because the firm name would be too long to go on 
 one line in the telephone directory," he said in a 
 shrewd whisper. 
 
 So it was for alphabetical reasons that I could not 
 add my name to Bunnestead and Worthington. 
 
 But there was old Worthington. Why couldn't he 
 have come over upon the dubious knight-errantry of 
 keeping a few of Lady Kensington's stars and garters 
 from falling into the hands of her daughter's marquis? 
 He at least would not have fallen in love, being now 
 seventy-one. But a whimsical picture of Worthing- 
 ton at his desk tore across my vision ; Worthington 
 who came down at eleven each morning, and whose 
 daughter, a maiden of fifty, brought him his luncheon 
 
 234
 
 THE MISSING HEIRLOOM 
 
 each day at twelve. At two Miss Worthington had 
 always since the office cat could remember come 
 down to get the napkin in which she brought her 
 father two crackers and a lump of cheese. And while 
 Miss Worthington was folding up the napkin and 
 showing the cat where to find the crumb, old Wor- 
 thington would go down and climb into the boat- 
 shaped old Victoria. 
 
 It was evident that I was predestined to come. And 
 when I thought of the Honorable Florentine Hadley 
 I wanted to thank Fate. 
 
 So my double had been there, but at what hour? 
 And how long it was after I had seen him skulking in 
 the woods around the Castle I could not tell ! My fore- 
 boding became a heavy cloud that darkened my spirits. 
 There had been mischief afloat the extent of which I 
 did not know. 
 
 My impulse was to return to Lady Kensington and 
 get further particulars from her regarding the tur- 
 quoise brooch and to make sure that nothing else had 
 been stolen by my double. But her offended manner 
 told me that she was in no mood to talk to me. 
 
 235
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE VIOLET LADY AGAIN 
 
 MY cab was at the front door and I -felt that 
 now, as a Christian duty, I must go to the 
 apartment house and straighten matters out 
 at my flat before going to Lady Faith's decorous 
 abode; but I shuddered, even as I trembled and won- 
 dered, when I thought of the violet sachet and my vio- 
 let bestrewn parlor. 
 
 Never put off until to-morrow what you can just 
 as well do to-day; that is a maxim that originated in 
 Boston, and it is used at housecleaning time. 
 
 I would return to my apartment at once. 
 
 I gave the coachman the direction and settled 
 back ; the cushions were soft and I know I fell asleep 
 for my next consciousness was that I was being vio- 
 lently shaken by the arm. I opened my eyes and 
 came gradually back to the present. As recovered 
 myself I saw that the cab stood in front of my own 
 door, and on the sidewalk, in a group, were the night 
 clerk, the day clerk and the manager, all talking ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 I stepped out and they followed me inside, still 
 in conversation. My head was confused by the few 
 minutes of sleep, but amid the voices I caught the 
 humble apology of the manager. He had been away, 
 and in his absence a lady had come and asked for my 
 keys. As she had represented herself to be my sister 
 
 236
 
 THE VIOLET LADY AGAIN 
 
 the night clerk had given them to her, and, of course, 
 it was all a mistake, for the lady was the sister of 
 the former occupant of the apartment, who had re- 
 cently sub-let the rooms to me, and ought not to have 
 been there at all ! Would I be kind enough to over- 
 look the error as the lady had departed and as it was 
 a rather excusable blunder. 
 
 "Inexcusable, you mean," I said bluntly. 
 
 "Perhaps !" agreed the manager. "But," as he again 
 explained, "the lady had insisted upon going to her 
 brother's apartment, and since she was a light opera 
 star of so much note and afraid of the London fog 
 it had seemed best to give her the keys. It was at 
 that late hour when ladies do not like to hunt for 
 lodgings ; and she had been rather insistent in the mat- 
 ter of gaining admittance." 
 
 After I had grudgingly forgiven everybody, the 
 manager took me aside and whispered the lady's name 
 to me. He was right, I agreed, and it would have 
 been wrong to turn so prominent a personage out in 
 a drizzling London midnight, for I recognized that my 
 little flat had had the honor of sheltering one of the 
 most noted songbirds of the variety stage. She had 
 arrived on the Baltic only the night before for a six 
 weeks' season in London, and, of course, the London 
 vaudeville stars had come at midnight, after the show 
 was over, to welcome her to their shores. It was all 
 quite simple now. 
 
 But the manager was distressed because Yama had 
 told them of my hasty visit home and my hurried 
 departure. And the fact that I was asleep in the cab 
 in front of the door simply went to show that I pre- 
 237
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 ferred the hospitality of the cab to that of my own 
 flat, under the circumstances. 
 
 "Sorry you had to sleep in the cab, sir," said the 
 manager for the tenth time. And for the tenth time 
 I assured him that it didn't make a damn's difference 
 now. 
 
 I got into the lift and went up to my apartment, 
 and, touching the bell, I waited for Yama to open 
 the door, which he did slowly and at nose width only. 
 
 "Open the door," I exclaimed. 
 
 Yama cracked it gingerly and I stepped in. Imme- 
 diately he closed it behind me, the windows of the 
 room were shut and the atmosphere was stifling with 
 violet. 
 
 "Open the windows," I ordered, "and air this 
 room." 
 
 Yama shook his head violently. "Keep sweet smell 
 in," he said. "If you let window up sweet smells all 
 fly out." 
 
 "Never mind if the sweet smell does fly out," I re- 
 torted, tossing up the shades and throwing the win- 
 dows wide open. "Phew! But it is strong here!" 
 
 Yama protested, but to no avail. I aired the room 
 and looked about for any remaining traces of the lady 
 of the violets. I afterwards learned that she had left 
 a long, pale violet, silk opera stocking behind, hip 
 length and suitable for the ballet, and Yama, finding 
 it, had taken possession of it. When I discovered it, 
 it was strapped to the outside of my dress suit case, 
 for Yama, recognizing its fitness as an umbrella cover, 
 had slipped my silk umbrella and two walking sticks 
 into it. I did not see it until well, too late to prevent 
 
 238
 
 THE VIOLET LADY AGAIN 
 
 the catastrophe ! All seemed clear of violet as far as 
 visible evidence was concerned. 
 
 While we were airing the parlor, there came a tre- 
 mendous thumping at the door. I opened it myself, 
 and in the hall stood a violet vision that fairly knocked 
 my eyes out. In her hand was an ivory headed para- 
 sol, which she had used as a door rapper. 
 
 "It is her; the lady who sleeps in your bedroom," 
 whispered Yama, getting behind the door so that he 
 could hear all that went on without being seen. 
 
 The vision smiled serenely and there was a wonder- 
 ful frou f rou of violets as she let down her train. 
 
 "I came to see you, to call on you," she said with a 
 telling glance, "in order to apologize. The manager 
 put me in the wrong apartment, and when he discov- 
 ered his mistake early this morning, he moved me to 
 another, and now I'm off to find something better." 
 
 I bowed stiffly, but she took no notice of any lack 
 of cordiality. 
 
 "No, I won't stop this morning," she went on 
 sweetly. "Some other time, but if you find a long 
 violet silk stocking, opera length, comes right to the 
 hip," indicating its length by a slight gesture of 
 hand and foot, "you can send it to me. Unless " 
 
 I glared at her but she smiled archly, "unless you 
 would like to keep it as a souvenir of of the visit." 
 
 She picked up the yard of violet silk train which 
 lay upon the floor of the marble hall, and pirouetted 
 on one dainty French heel. 
 
 "If any of your baggage is left behind it will be sent 
 to you," I growled. 
 
 "Well, good-bye ; say so-long to Pussyfoot for me." 
 239
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 And away she went down the hall, her French heels 
 tap-tapping as she walked. 
 
 I closed the door abruptly and turned to find Yama 
 squatting behind it like a Japanese monkey. I 
 frowned at him, but he had his eyes closed and his 
 nose in the air, taking ecstactic sniffs of the fresh 
 waves of violet. 
 
 "Get up," I ordered, "and pack a trunk and a suit- 
 case, and put everything in for a month." 
 
 "Yama go along?" he asked. 
 
 I told him that he was not to go, and I added a few 
 other remarks, wholly unnecessary for he was not to 
 blame but I was put out by the violets. 
 
 And now for Aunt Faith. The dear lady had un- 
 doubtedly returned from the Castle, and I would be 
 in time for eleven o'clock tea and would see Flor- 
 entine. So it was with delightful anticipations that I 
 stepped into the cab and gave Lady Faith's address 
 to the driver. The morning was clearing. 
 
 But on the way I signaled him to stop at a shop, 
 for I wanted to give Florentine a solitaire which would 
 tell her that I valued her love as highly as a Bond 
 Street jeweler could suggest, and I wished to put on 
 her hand a ring whose flashing sign would speak the 
 words I was too dull-witted to utter. 
 
 I picked out the diamond to the joy of the Bond 
 Street dealer, and, with the token tucked in what the 
 lady-who-loves-me calls my heart pocket, I drove to 
 the home of Lady Faith, and up the front steps I 
 bounded in two leaps. The footman let me in and 
 I stepped into the prim gold-and-white drawing-room 
 sacred to Aunt Faith and the memory of the Prince 
 
 240
 
 THE VIOLET LADY AGAIN 
 
 of Wales. I had time to observe it all now; his por- 
 trait hung over the mantel and there were innumerable 
 pictures of the royal family scattered about. The 
 house in the daytime looked even more devoted to 
 royalism than at night. 
 
 I had only a few minutes to wait in the drawing- 
 room before Florentine appeared, and without delay 
 I gave her the ring. I suppose there have been other 
 engagement rings in the world, but none I am sure 
 like this, for it was Florentine's ring and mine ! 
 
 If there are critical moments in life, crucial mo- 
 ments, this is one, the moment of the giving of the 
 ring; for the happiness of a couple's whole future 
 life depends upon the way this ring passes from hand 
 to hand. Florentine took it and put it on and said 
 just the right thing. Then she looked into its spark- 
 ling depths with wonder, but when I asked her what 
 she saw, she would not tell me. But she said she 
 understood now why the diamond is called a pre- 
 cious stone. 
 
 "I found the wedding ring," I added. 
 
 A sunbeam brighter than the diamond darted into 
 the little gilt drawing-room and rested upon her hair, 
 that lovely silver hair which had become tangled into 
 the woof of my existence like silver threads caught in 
 a fabric of dull grey. The sunbeam flashed upon the 
 diamond and Florentine said it was an omen. 
 
 At the same time she put her finger to her lip and 
 lifted it with a dear little gesture and a sidewise move- 
 ment of her head: 
 
 "Listen !" she exclaimed. 
 
 241
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 UNCLE JASON PLAYS ALADDIN 
 
 I LISTEN ED and heard that which I had not 
 noticed before, a low hum of voices; they is- 
 sued from the tiny reception room across the 
 hall ; one was very soft and sweet, low and well modu- 
 lated; the other brusque but kind, hearty, round and 
 satisfied. 
 
 Florentine's smile deepened until a roguish dimple 
 sat in each cheek. 
 
 "It is Aunt Faith and your Uncle Jason," said she. 
 
 "Uncle Jason! How did he get here?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "He came almost directly," explained Florentine. 
 "He said he was looking for a bargain in real estate 
 in this neighborhood, and, finding himself so near 
 here, he thought he would drop in to make us a morn- 
 ing call." 
 
 "And Aunt Faith?" I questioned with some mis- 
 givings. 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Faith liked him immensely ; I never saw 
 her so taken with anyone. She was just getting out of 
 her carriage as he reached the front steps, and when 
 he saw her he went down and insisted upon helping 
 her. It was most fortunate, for the carriage step 
 was wet and Aunt Faith slipped and would have 
 fallen ; she did wrench her ankle slightly." 
 
 What an opportunity for Uncle Jason, I thought, as 
 I recalled my uncle's well known gallantry. 
 
 242
 
 UNCLE JASON PLAYS ALADDIN 
 
 "And he was so kind to Aunt Faith; he brought 
 down the door mat and spread it over the wet side- 
 walk and found a board somewhere, which he laid over 
 the gutter, so that she could reach the walk without 
 straining her ankle." 
 
 "How delightful !" I exclaimed. "He has Sir Wal- 
 ter Raleigh beaten to a finish." 
 
 Florentine laughed again as she related the rest 
 of it. She herself had introduced them, and Aunt 
 Faith now that it could be done with propriety had 
 shaken hands with him, and invited him to stay and 
 have a cup of tea, which was undoubtedly what Uncle 
 Jason had intended to do from the first. 
 
 It was a captivating little romance, and while Flor- 
 entine was telling me, the hum of conversation went 
 steadily on in the little reception room beyend; oc- 
 casionally a ripe laugh broke forth in Uncle Jason's 
 hearty bass voice. 
 
 It seemed a pity to interrupt them but I had to do 
 so; there were many things to be done, and in the 
 interval of conversation while I was giving Floren- 
 tine the diamond she had promised that we would 
 be married that evening. 
 
 "Mr. Pancoast will be well by that time," said 
 Florentine. "I had a talk with him over the telephone 
 this morning." 
 
 "I thought Aunt Faith wouldn't have a telephone?" 
 
 "Oh, I went out to find one." 
 
 "How is the duffer?" I asked irreverently. 
 
 Florentine's face grew sad. "He is in very low 
 spirits and he advises me not to get married !" 
 
 "The old sinner!" 
 
 243
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Pancoast says that all marriages are 
 foolish, and that this world is a bad world; from his 
 tone I think I am afraid that Mr. Pancoast is very 
 down in his mind." 
 
 "Oh, he'll come along all right," I assured her, for 
 I knew it was "the morning after the night before" 
 for him. 
 
 Florentine shook her head sadly and I could see 
 that she did not believe me. 
 
 Meanwhile in the reception room the voices had 
 grown firmer. 
 
 Uncle Jason had finished his tea and Aunt Faith 
 was pouring him a glass of wine. I knew afterwards 
 it was a very tiny glass and the decanter was tall and 
 slim, very aristocratic and very old, and the wine 
 was light in weight and delicate in color. 
 
 But Uncle Jason eyed it with the eye of a parched 
 man suddenly given a drop of nectar. 
 
 "It is wine that was given to my great-grandfather 
 by King George," murmured Aunt Faith as she held 
 the delicate glass by its dainty stem and presented it 
 with a courtesy. 
 
 Uncle Jason lifted it to the light. "By gracious!" 
 he exclaimed with a ruddy flush of appreciation, "it's 
 a beauty, that glass; somebody got a bargain, there's 
 inlay." 
 
 "That glass was presented to my grandmother by 
 Queen Victoria," fairly bubbled Aunt Faith. "She 
 sent it by a special envoy, the day of my grand- 
 mother's crystal wedding." 
 
 "Well, here's to grandmother's health!" roared 
 Uncle Jason, tossing down the wine. 
 
 244
 
 UNCLE JASON PLAYS ALADDIN 
 
 "My grandmother is dead," said Aunt Faith. 
 
 "Not dead!" ejaculated Uncle Jason incredulously. 
 But Aunt Faith was too perfectly delighted to respond. 
 
 And now Uncle Jason was saying good-bye to 
 Aunt Faith and she was insisting that she could not 
 possibly accompany him shopping, while he said that 
 she must, and she said she really couldn't. 
 
 "But we must buy their wedding present," Uncle 
 Jason insisted. "If those two kids are going to get 
 married, your pretty niece and my scapegrace of a 
 nephew, they've got to have something nice for a 
 wedding gift, that's sure." 
 
 Aunt Faith agreed that we ought to have a wed- 
 ding present, but there were the proprieties to be con- 
 sidered, and when it came to accompanying Uncle 
 Jason to Bond Street without a chaperon, well, she'd 
 like to but she really couldn't ! 
 
 Right here I interrupted and managed to get a word 
 alone with her. 
 
 "Does Sir Charles know?" she asked nervously. 
 
 "I've silenced him!" I said quickly. 
 
 She gave me a questioning look, but there was no 
 time for explanations. 
 
 It wound up by my dragging Uncle Jason away by 
 his coat-tails while Florentine and Aunt Faith stood 
 in the hall, both saying good-bye at once. Uncle Jason 
 insisted that he wasn't going to say good-bye, first 
 because he was superstitious about it, and second be- 
 cause he wasn't going to be gone long enough to make 
 it worth while. He intended to call about three 
 o'clock to report to Aunt Faith the progress he was 
 making with the wedding present. And he would 
 
 245
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 bring it up on approval for her to see, and if she 
 didn't like it he'd change it, or he would know the 
 reason why not. 
 
 Aunt Faith listened delightedly and nodded her 
 head in approval. Uncle Jason was an Aladdin whose 
 coming could rub all things into brilliancy. We said 
 our adieux and went down the steps, but half way 
 Uncle Jason turned and looked back. 
 
 The door was wide open and framed in its archway 
 stood Aunt Faith. She had committed a terrible 
 breach of etiquette for an English lady, for she stood 
 in the doorway to see us off. Uncle Jason turned 
 around and stared at her so long that I had to pluck 
 his sleeve, but I didn't blame him, for Aunt Faith was 
 a picture. Her dark hair, only half streaked with 
 white, was piled on her head in wonderfully dressed 
 puffs and coils and her tall and almost girlishly slim 
 figure was gowned in a lovely grey satin, which did 
 not need the added dignity of Aunt Faith's real lace 
 collar and cuffs. 
 
 "By George, she's a thoroughbred, a lady every 
 inch of her," ejaculated Uncle Jason. 
 
 I supposed he referred to Florentine and I gave my 
 instantaneous assent. 
 
 "I mean Lady Faith," he explained; "she's a re- 
 markable woman." 
 
 "Why, you've only known her a little while," I re- 
 plied slightly jarred. 
 
 "I'm sixty-four," retorted my uncle, "and when a 
 man's sixty-four he doesn't have to eat the whole of 
 an egg to judge its character." 
 
 We got into the cab and drove some time in silence. 
 246
 
 UNCLE JASON PLAYS ALADDIN 
 
 A sigh from Uncle Jason recalled me to the present. 
 He sat opposite me with that look on his face which 
 I have grown to associate with some momentous un- 
 dertaking; but he said nothing. 
 
 As we neared Bond Street for Uncle Jason be- 
 lieves there is no time like now for doing a thing and 
 the wedding present hung on his mind he said sol- 
 emnly : 
 
 "Roman, your Aunt Maria has been dead four 
 years." 
 
 I made no reply; the tombstone in the family lot at 
 Beverly would corroborate this statement. 
 
 After a while the silence was again broken by Uncle 
 Jason. "Roman, don't you think she looks a little 
 just a little like your late Aunt Maria; only she's a 
 little taller and a little slimmer and her hair is a little 
 more fixed up ?" 
 
 I was still thinking of Florentine and indignation 
 spoke: "She's a lot younger than Aunt Maria and a 
 thousand times better looking than Aunt Maria ever 
 was." 
 
 A vision of Aunt Maria, short and fat, with her thin 
 grey hair dragged back from her worthy but plain 
 face, flitted through my mind. Like Aunt Maria in- 
 deed! 
 
 Uncle Jason added no further views and it did not 
 occur to me until next day that he was not referring 
 to Florentine. 
 
 "When are you going to Paris?" I asked abruptly 
 for Uncle Jason's plans seemed suddenly changed. 
 
 "I don't know," was the sage reply. "Safe prophecy 
 is never dated." 
 
 247
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 ME OR MY DOUBLE 
 
 1LEFT him at the jewelry store, and went over to 
 make my afternoon call on Lady Hensington. 
 Here I found all in turmoil, and I found a Scot- 
 land Yard man in charge. 
 
 An inventory had been taken of the wedding pres- 
 ents, as they were shipped away, and it was discovered 
 that a chest of silver had been carted bodily off the 
 night before, as well as a gold loving cup. 
 
 On learning this, Lady Hensington had sent to 
 Scotland Yard. I found them in close conference in 
 the drawing-room. When he saw me the Scotland 
 Yard man sprang to his feet with a cry : 
 
 "Here he is! This is the man who took the silver.'' 
 
 It took some time to quiet him but when I did get 
 the story it was strange enough. 
 
 The thief or the one supposed to be the thief 
 had so closely resembled me that he was allowed to 
 depart with the articles. The man who had stood at 
 the door, the Scotland Yard man, now talking with 
 Lady Hensington, still swore that it was I. So posi- 
 tive was he in his identification that Lady Hensington 
 wavered, and I thought she looked at me with more 
 suspicious an eye than was agreeable to a man who 
 had graduated at a gentleman's college. 
 
 "You surely don't think I stole them?" I asked as 
 she glowered at me. Her reply was non-committal. 
 
 248
 
 ME OR MY DOUBLE 
 
 "Where did you go when you left here last night?" 
 
 I declined to state, and she continued: 
 
 "Because I called up your apartment on the tele- 
 phone and the reply, in a feminine voice and the 
 other sounds made me think, my dear Roman, that 
 you had begun to sow your wild oats here in London." 
 
 "Do you mean to intimate that I stole your daugh- 
 ter's gold loving cup and her wedding silver and took 
 them to my flat for the entertainment of a house 
 party ?" 
 
 Lady Kensington averted her eyes. "But the sounds, 
 the shouts, the wild laughter in your apartment were 
 distinctly to be heard over the 'phone !" she said 
 coldly. 
 
 It was useless to argue with Lady Kensington, as 
 she knew what she had heard, and I didn't feel like 
 explaining, but I called the Scotland Yard man out 
 and conversed with him. He was still convinced that 
 I was the thief ; and as it had been he who had let 
 the chest of silver go out he was inclined to stick to 
 it. However, after more talk, I partly showed him 
 that he was wrong. 
 
 The story was rather interesting to me. The man, 
 my double, had come diffidently to the front door, 
 where the Scotland Yard detective had bidden him a 
 welcome and told him to go in and stand by the wed- 
 ding presents. He seemed surprised, but did as he 
 was told. In front of the presents he had found an- 
 other Scotland Yard man who was just as cordial. 
 
 Evidently encouraged by their amiability, the thief, 
 my double, had brazenly picked up the big antique 
 turquoise brooch, with some remark about putting it 
 
 249
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 away for safe keeping. Later the Scotland Yard man 
 asked him what was to be done with the silver over 
 night, and he replied that he would begin to remove it 
 at once. So he took the gold loving cup, carried it 
 down and out, and put it in a cab, and came back for 
 the chest of silver. 
 
 No suspicions were aroused until about four A. M. 
 when they reported the matter to Lady Kensington 
 with remarks on my singular conduct. Her ladyship 
 had immediately called up my apartment only to hear, 
 over the telephone, echoes of the musical orgy going 
 on within my flat. 
 
 They both talked at once, and I pieced the threads 
 together. 
 
 "Say nothing for a while," I counseled, "but meet 
 me here again in an hour." 
 
 This last to the Scotland Yard man, who, now that 
 he saw I was not the thief, had become sour toward 
 me for defrauding him of his reward. 
 
 "And, meanwhile, be as mum as a turtle." 
 
 I made it .plain to the Scotland Yard man that it 
 would be to his ultimate advantage to be quiet and he 
 left. I went with him to the door. 
 
 "I am in a bad hole about this," he admitted, "and 
 I ought to report it at once; if waiting should make 
 it worse " 
 
 "It will be the making of your fame if you can 
 have patience," I assured him, but I did not feel so 
 wholly sure myself. 
 
 I thought that Johnny the Crook had taken the sil- 
 ver and the brooch and I knew I had his address for 
 the highwaywoman had given it to me. But a fear, 
 
 250
 
 ME OR MY DOUBLE 
 
 a lurking fear, was still in my heart. I knew that I 
 had left the Crook under the windows of Sir Charles' 
 room at that tempting hour for crooks, the hour of 
 darkness. And I did not know what had happened. 
 
 Lady Kensington reluctantly let me go, for she had 
 the feeling that she was losing her chances of getting 
 her possessions. 
 
 She held on to me almost to the door. 
 
 "The turquoise brooch, that lovely antique, the 
 heirloom of the De Chambrey family," she moaned. 
 
 "I cannot answer for the brooch," I said, "but it 
 may be found yet. It may possibly be pawned or 
 sold." 
 
 She brightened a little, "It's as big as a trade dollar 
 and a lovely shade of blue all set in a beautiful pale 
 silver filigree setting. Oh, dear!" 
 
 "Cheer up," I advised, "and be thankful !" 
 
 I don't know just what she had to be thankful for 
 but I felt so joyful myself that nothing more serious 
 had gone that I wanted the whole world to join me in 
 a paean of thanksgiving. 
 
 She promised to be as thankful as she could, and the 
 Scotland Yard man and I left the mansion together. 
 In parting he wrung my hand and thanked me again. 
 
 "If you know a rogue or a rascal in London, point 
 him out to me and I'll do him for you," he said con- 
 fidentially. 
 
 I wanted to tell him that I did know a rogue and a 
 rascal and that I was uneasy about him at that mo- 
 ment, and that I would really like to know what he was 
 doing out at the Castle ; but it didn't seem a case for 
 the active endeavor of my Scotland Yard friend. 
 
 251
 
 However, the Hepworth had not been stolen and for 
 this I was thankful. I mentally conveyed my apolo- 
 gies to Sir Charles for having suspected him of taking 
 it in that moment when, by the side of Lady Hen- 
 sington, he had fuddled the wrappings of his hand. 
 
 After I left him T signaled that ready companion of 
 every man in London, a cabby, and giving him a di- 
 rection I settled back to think; there was little more 
 to be done except to drop a line to Lady Kensington, 
 telling her that I was about to be married. And to 
 keep her from bothering me about her brooch I would 
 tell her that I would start at once for the Continent 
 on my wedding tour. Dear lady! how she would 
 gasp! 
 
 Alighting at Trafalgar Square, I ran plump into 
 Uncle Jason. He was bustling along with a box in 
 his arms, around which he could scarcely reach. 
 
 "Hello !" I exclaimed, "what in the world !" 
 
 "Flowers!" he cried, joyfully. "The biggest in 
 London. I couldn't get American Beauties, but these 
 will do. She said she liked pansies but I think she 
 ought to have roses, and the only way to get 'em to 
 her without smashing 'em is to carry 'em." 
 
 "Do you think she wants red roses ?" I asked a little 
 doubtfully, for I had just deposited a rush order for 
 orange blossoms. 
 
 "Sure !" said Uncle Jason, proudly, "and I'm going 
 to tell her how to wear them." 
 
 I stared at him, for I could not avoid the impres- 
 sion that my Uncle Jason was rather overreaching 
 himself in the matter of floral offerings, and was in- 
 truding into what should be my province. 
 
 252
 
 ME OR MY DOUBLE 
 
 "Red roses are inappropriate," I remarked. 
 
 "Don't you be so young, my boy," he returned 
 patronizingly, "and remember your Uncle Jason wasn't 
 born yesterday. I've got a bunch all tied with ribbon 
 for her hair the lady clerk fixed it for me and an- 
 other to carry in her hand, and a beautiful bouquet for 
 her corset." 
 
 "You mean her corsage !" I suggested, endeavoring 
 to be pleasant. "But I want to hint to you that this is 
 an affair that is strictly mine, and if Florentine wants 
 flowers for her corsage " 
 
 "Florentine! Who said anything about Florentine?" 
 
 "Why, aren't those roses for her?" 
 
 "No, you damn fool !" And with a shake of im- 
 patience that set the rose petals flying, Uncle Jason 
 left me standing in the middle of the sidewalk where 
 I turned to stare at him and wonder if he had gone 
 mad. While I looked I saw him step nimbly into a 
 tailor shop on Regent Street. 
 
 I ran across him once more; it was on Oxford 
 Street, and when he saw me he treated me to a wise 
 wink: 
 
 "I found a bargain this time, my boy," said he. "It's 
 a beautiful piece of jewelry; bought it of a woman in 
 the street for a song; I'll tell you all about it some 
 time. She'll be delighted with it; it's a big blue tur- 
 quoise set in silver, and it was a bargain !" 
 
 Then he linked his arm in mine and we walked up 
 the Strand to the Savoy, where we stopped for what 
 Uncle Jason called a "smile." While we smiled, he 
 told me some gossip about the Hadley family which 
 I had not heard before. In that short space of time, 
 
 253
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 my Uncle Jason had been introduced into the best 
 Club in London and had hobnobbed at luncheon with 
 men whose names were household words to me, but 
 whom personally I had never even aspired to meet. 
 
 "You've met more celebrities in one day than most 
 men meet in one lifetime," I declared, as he poured 
 out the story of the morning to me. But he wanted 
 to tell me about the Hadleys and about Sir Charles in 
 particular. 
 
 254
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE ROOM WITH THE DOUBLE WALL 
 
 IT appeared from what Uncle Jason had heard, 
 that that nobleman's affairs were much more 
 deeply involved than was generally supposed. 
 He had borrowed heavily, invested badly, and unless 
 some good piece of fortune came his way, he was 
 pretty nearly face to face with ruin. 
 
 "So that is why he was so keen after Florentine," 
 I remarked. 
 
 Uncle Jason nodded as he went on to tell me more 
 of the family affairs, which were, from his narrative, 
 in desperate shape. For one thing, Aunt Faith's 
 elegant little town house was heavily mortgaged the 
 poor lady had entrusted her last dollar to Sir Charles 
 and for another, there was a lien on nearly every 
 scrap of everything owned by any of the Hadleys. 
 
 "They won't have enough left to wind around their 
 little fingers unless somebody jumps in and saves their 
 lives," was Uncle Jason's decision. 
 
 "Are you going to be the life-saver?" I asked. 
 
 Uncle Jason's reply was a chuckle. "A change of 
 farms does an old horse good," he declared, as he 
 sat and fingered his glass reflectively. 
 
 "Roman, your Aunt Maria has been dead four 
 years, and now your Cousin Irene is going to Con- 
 stantinople to teach the devout Turks how to become 
 side-stepping Christians. I knew a Turk once; he 
 
 255
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 lived in Boston; sold rugs. The Koran was on his 
 mind as steady as the motor was on mine. He spent 
 his Sundays on his stomach ; I spent mine on my back 
 with a monkey wrench in my hand. He used to get 
 down on his knees and chin a spot in his prayer rug 
 three times a day. One day he told me that he had 
 been in Boston a whole year and hadn't seen a Chris- 
 tian yet. You couldn't live in Constantinople a \vhole 
 year and not see a Mohammedan. But Irene is like 
 her mother; when she wants to do a thing she up and 
 does it for twenty years your Aunt Maria sent my 
 old pajamas to Borneo. And, now, Irene is going to 
 leave me, to tell the Turks how to be religious." 
 
 "Yes, Uncle Jason." 
 
 I was thinking of Aunt Maria, who never wore her 
 best dress until it was out of style and who kept the 
 covers on the parlor furniture all the year around ; 
 when Uncle Jason smoked she followed him with an 
 ash tray. Long before she died Aunt Maria planted 
 a box of grave moss because it would be so much 
 cheaper than buying it of a florist; the weeping willow 
 in the family lot she raised from a shrub and watered 
 with a tomato can. 
 
 My uncle took a long quaff, set down his glass and 
 sighed deeply ; sighed so heavily that his ruddy face 
 became seamed with long lugubrious wrinkles. ITe 
 looked like a chubby baby getting ready to cry. 
 
 "Roman, it's a lonesome life. I've got a snug little 
 house in Beverly, with a stable, a garage, a lake and a 
 windmill !" 
 
 "Finest country seat in New England," I ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 256
 
 THE ROOM WITH THE DOUBLE WALL 
 
 "And I've got a few dollars tucked away for a 
 rainy day." 
 
 "An umbrella of at least a million/' I observed. 
 
 Uncle Jason smiled a gratified smile. 
 
 "I was only thinking, Roman " From afar there 
 
 came the subdued strains of a Hungarian band; 
 Uncle Jason began to beat time with his finger. 
 
 "Wedding bells listen good to me," he said. 
 
 The Hungarian band hummed along and under its 
 encouraging influence Uncle Jason leaned across the 
 table and tapped my hand. 
 
 "That was a mighty pretty little gilt wine glass she 
 gave me with that drop of pink water in it. By 
 George, I'd like to get a dozen just like it for her! 
 Heh ! My boy, do you want to come out with me and 
 look for a glass store?" 
 
 Uncle Jason's smile was that of a plump cherub 
 gazing into a pink glass alley. 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 "Your Aunt Maria always drank out of jelly tum- 
 blers to save the cut glass. Now I was thinking " 
 
 "Well, think away ! But don't spend too much. 
 Some men are Marathons at running into debt when 
 they get to London." 
 
 Uncle Jason tapped his forehead and his vest 
 pocket alternately. 
 
 "I'll see you later; don't forget the hour for the 
 ceremony," I called back, "I've got troubles of my 
 own !" 
 
 There's many a true word spoken in jest as people 
 remark when they do not know that they are speak- 
 ing seriously. 
 
 257
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Hardly had I left Uncle Jason when I had an en- 
 counter which I was destined to remember long. 
 Looking backward I can say that, brief though it was. 
 it left its lasting impression upon my fortunes. At 
 the time it surprised as much as it alarmed me. 
 
 As I stood upon the curb looking for a cab, I felt 
 my arm suddenly grasped by a woman's bare hand. 
 
 I looked down; there stood by my side a person 
 in an auto coat with a veil tied over her hat, but it 
 was pulled down so that it shaded her face pretty 
 closely. 
 
 "My word !" she exclaimed, distinctly but very low, 
 "what are you doing here? Don't you know they're 
 out looking for you?" 
 
 Quick as a flash, for I am not always absent- 
 minded, I pulled my own hat down and turned my 
 head away. 
 
 "I don't see anyone," I muttered. 
 
 "My eye, but you're careless !" 
 
 I glanced cautiously at her. Yes, it was my high- 
 way woman of the night before. I could not be mis- 
 taken; same red hair and hard, high colored cheeks 
 that looked redder and harder in the cruel daylight. 
 
 "I'm going right home," I assured her. 
 
 "Hurry as fast as ever you can ; they'll be coming 
 from the Castle. Get over to the rooms quick; Bud 
 has gone out, but you've got a skeleton key." 
 
 "Are you sure the rooms are safe?" I whispered, 
 shrinking back a little toward the shadow of the 
 nearest building. 
 
 "A damn sight safer than the street!" was the fierce 
 ejaculation. "My word, but you do take chances ! Go 
 
 258
 
 THE ROOM WITH THE DOUBLE WALL 
 
 over; let yourself in softly, and if they come you 
 can slip into the floor." 
 
 I looked at her; the veil was quite over her face 
 now, so her vision was dim, and my own features 
 were concealed by my hat. I had also turned up my 
 coat collar. She had mistaken me again for Johnny 
 the Crook and I was hot on the trail. 
 
 "I don't think I can manage the floor alone," I 
 said, with a timid shudder that alarmed her. 
 
 "Yes you can ! And you don't want to go now and 
 show the white feather ; they string up a man quicker 
 here than they do in Australia, and you ain't going to 
 lose your nerve. Press down on the boards under 
 the window and they'll lift at t'other end. There's a 
 false bottom to the floor ; you can crawl under " 
 
 She stopped; an eager move of mine may have 
 scared her. 
 
 "Didn't Bud tell you ?" she questioned sharply. 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 "He said he did." 
 
 She stepped uneasily and craned her neck. 
 
 I looked around with an apprehension that was 
 not simulated; suppose Bud should see us or Johnny 
 himself if he were so foolish as to come out into the 
 open. 
 
 "You step on one end of the board and the other 
 end flies up. Two boards at once. Under you drop, 
 and you work yourself along until you come to the 
 partition between the two rooms; there you'll find a 
 secret chamber ; it isn't big enough for more than 
 one person at a time, but there's a cot in it and you 
 can lay low. If they come to look for you there's 
 
 259
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 a peep hole so you can see 'em. If they scent you 
 there's a box cupboard at the end of the double wall." 
 
 "Are they out for me?" I asked. 
 
 "Hush," she said, "you bet they are; it don't take 
 'em long; they've been searching the Castle woods 
 these hours. They found him sooner " 
 
 "Tell me the worst," I begged with chattering teeth. 
 
 "You get home quick," she advised. "Bud's got the 
 diamond, but when he gets back he'll put it in the 
 false floor. It'll be moons before you dare to have it 
 cut up, but when you do, it's good loot for all of us." 
 
 I muttered a gibbering assent. 
 
 "Is is he dead?" 
 
 "You're losing your nerve ! My eye !" she ex- 
 claimed, as her gaze fell on somebody across the 
 street. "My word!" 
 
 I would have given a fortune the know the rest 
 to hear who was dead but I dared not stop. 
 
 I did not wait to hear more; I darted into the 
 crowd, caught a hansom and within two minutes was 
 entering the Savoy from the embankment; my desti- 
 nation was the telephone booth. 
 
 But with what feelings did I now proceed ! Johnny, 
 the Crook, was in London. The Castle grounds were 
 being ineffectually beaten for him if the word of the 
 woman was to be believed and he was in possession 
 of a diamond, so large in size and of such conspicuous 
 beauty, that it would have to be cut up before it could 
 be sold! 
 
 Where had Johnny, the Crook, obtained the dia- 
 mond and why were they searching the woods for 
 him ? Had anything happened to Sir Charles ? 
 
 260
 
 THE ROOM WITH THE DOUBLE WALL 
 
 I called up Lady Hensington and at her end of the 
 wire I was given such a flood of words that I could 
 understand nothing. The main thing appeared that 
 I was needed at once. Lady Hensington, herself, got 
 to the 'phone and hysterically implored me to hurry. 
 
 There was trouble at Lady Hensington's house ; and 
 it was trouble which I could not dodge. From her 
 few coherent sentences I knew that I must expect 
 the worst. 
 
 I jumped back into the cab and was at her door 
 while my senses were still whirling. I was shown 
 pushed is a more accurate description into her draw- 
 ing-room and the hall doors were rolled shut behind 
 me. 
 
 Immediately I found myself in the presence of six 
 persons, among them Lady Hensington; and as I ad- 
 vanced to speak to her, she hurriedly introduced me 
 to three men from Scotland Yard. They were more 
 or less professional in aspect ; but the other two who 
 bore the appearance of brokers were introduced as 
 diamond experts. 
 
 "Speak, somebody!" implored Lady Hensington. 
 "This is my lawyer," indicating me, "and he will act 
 for me." 
 
 It was no time for snobbishness, as she and all 
 assembled saw. She peeled off her manner as one 
 peels off a burdensome garment, and now she was her 
 impulsive self.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE MISSING HEPWORTH 
 
 NOT all speaking at once, but quite intelligently, 
 for they were men of the world, they told 
 the story. I gathered it thus: 
 
 Lady Kensington had that morning become alarmed 
 at the theft of the brooch and had decided to place 
 the Hepworth diamond in safe keeping. Calling up 
 her jeweler she had asked him to send two men to 
 get the gem. The messengers had come and Lady 
 Kensington had handed over the blue velvet box to 
 them. 
 
 According to custom, and as a safeguard as well 
 as a formality, the men asked to see the diamond. 
 Lady Kensington herself opened the box ; the men 
 stared at it, then they exchanged glances with each 
 other and one of them lifted the stone from its place. 
 
 They fingered the diamond, held it up to the light 
 and handed it back to Lady Kensington. Much sur- 
 prised she had asked the meaning of the curious 
 looks. 
 
 "The stone is mock," declared one of the men. 
 
 "A good imitation, but mere paste." added the 
 other. "It is not worth the box in which it lies." 
 
 Lady Kensington, faint and incredulous, but fear- 
 ing the worst, called up the jeweler. The men were 
 experts, and nothing could be done. If they had said 
 
 262
 
 THE MISSING HEPWORTH 
 
 the Hepworth was paste, it was nothing else; more- 
 over they knew the Hepworth well. When it was re- 
 cut, five years before, the work had been done in 
 their laboratory. It was impossible to doubt their 
 word or question their judgment. 
 
 After Lady Kensington had come out of her 
 swoon, Scotland Yard was called up, and as the de- 
 tectives came, I arrived also. 
 
 "Oh!" groaned Lady Kensington, white as death, 
 "what shall I do?" 
 
 I was to the surprise of everyone and the exas- 
 peration of Lady Kensington, the coolest of them all. 
 
 "When did you last have it from its box ?" I asked, 
 as we all bent forward to listen. 
 
 "It has not been out of the box since the day I pur- 
 chased it, nearly a month ago ; it has been under lock 
 and key until last night. Then I had it put in this 
 blue velvet box with the wedding presents." 
 
 "Yes," I prompted, "and last night?" 
 
 "It was not touched except once, and that was when 
 I lifted it from the table to show it to Sir Charles 
 Hadley. The box slipped from my hand, but Sir 
 Charles picked it up and replaced it before my very 
 eyes." 
 
 "I saw it," I observed. 
 
 "Later I sent him back to be sure that it was safely 
 laid in its case." 
 
 "And after that?" 
 
 Lady Kensington remembered nothing special ex- 
 cept that she herself had locked it up before the guests 
 departed. 
 
 "Ah!" I breathed, and we took the opportunity of 
 263
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 exchanging glances all around; but our communica- 
 tions were mystic and not clear cut. 
 
 "So, Sir Charles Hadley was the last person to 
 handle this diamond?" questioned one of the men. 
 
 Lady Kensington opened her lips to speak, but 
 closed them again. The detectives exchanged glances 
 and I could see that suspicion had fallen on Sir 
 Charles. 
 
 Yet, wretch though he was, he was Florentine's 
 cousin, and I must, in honor, protect him as far as I 
 could without sacrificing myself. 
 
 "There's nothing more to be said now," I re- 
 marked unconsciously assuming the direction of the 
 matter, "and Lady Kensington is too exhausted to 
 talk." 
 
 I dismissed them all. But as they were going, my 
 Scotland Yard friend of an hour before beckoned to 
 me. 
 
 "It's all up," he said shortly, "they've fired me 
 or they will when I get back." 
 
 "Don't be so sure," I returned. "But get out your 
 note book and listen." 
 
 He produced a book; as I spoke he made cabalistic 
 signs. 
 
 "Not so fast," I cautioned him. "I don't know who 
 took that diamond, and if I did I wouldn't tell. But 
 I know pretty nearly where it is." 
 
 I had decided that though it might complicate mat- 
 ters and involve me in an embarrassing discussion 
 I would do what I could to recover the diamond. I 
 owed this much to myself. 
 
 He looked up doubtfully. 
 264
 
 THE MISSING HEP WORTH 
 
 "It is at that address," I said, handing him the slip 
 of paper which the henna tinted lady had given me 
 the night before in the road. "And if it isn't there 
 you can get it by watching the place.'' 
 
 He took the paper: "Crookedest location in Lon- 
 don !'' was his remark. 
 
 "Well!" I observed, "the diamond isn't far from 
 there. It has become the property of Johnny, the 
 Australian Crook, and he's living at that number." 
 
 "Johnny, the Australian Crook," exclaimed the 
 Scotland Yard man, jumping a foot in the air, "why, 
 there's a big reward out for him!" 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders as he told me how Johnny 
 the Crook had escaped from Sydney by some un- 
 known route, and how the police of every port were 
 on the lookout for him. 
 
 "This will be a big feather in my cap," he cried, 
 shaking my hand, "if it comes out well." 
 
 "Get back the diamond for Lady Kensington and 
 you may wear the feather proudly," I declared. 
 
 "Of course you know that he is the one who came 
 to the wedding as my double this morning about four 
 as the guests were leaving and in the confusion 
 took the gold cup, the brooch and the silver plate." 
 
 "I'll get 'em all !" he swore. 
 
 Then, for I knew I must trust him wholly, I told 
 him about the double floor, the secret chamber hidden 
 in the false partitions and the little box cupboard be- 
 yond. While I described it, he scribbled it madly. 
 
 "There's a peep hole in the wall; remember that he 
 can see you and dodge. There's a way, I believe, of 
 sliding through the inner wall, down three stories to 
 
 265
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 the cellar. You can wager they wouldn't forget to 
 provide a way of escape." 
 
 "That's a new one on me," he smiled. 
 
 "Now don't let your steps get cold," I cautioned 
 him, "and work pretty carefully. Say 'Singapore' at 
 the door if you need a password." 
 
 I wasn't sure he heard the last, for he darted away 
 as though he were in the game of hare and hounds. 
 
 I returned to Lady Kensington's drawing-room 
 after seeing my friend of Scotland Yard disappear, 
 and here I found grief indeed, for, as she hysterically 
 admitted, she had put a fortune in the great diamond, 
 and now to lose it meant certain trouble. The de 
 Chambrays would demand the money in cash and 
 Lady Kensington could not produce it. She had in- 
 tended all the time to sell the diamond. 
 
 It was to be shown at the reception to set all Lon- 
 don gaping, and then it was to go to Italy. It would 
 be as good as an invitation to Court to display it in 
 Naples. After the merry round of the social season 
 it had been decided to put it in a safe deposit vault 
 which was only another way of admitting that it 
 would be sold. Lady Kensington thought she could 
 eat her cake and have it. 
 
 "Of course it was taken while you were in charge," 
 she accused, "and no one could have touched it if 
 you had been watching as you ought to have watched." 
 
 I was not ready to admit this and I told her Lady- 
 ship so, adding a few other facts, taking care, how- 
 ever, to shield Sir Charles, for, after all, he was 
 Florentine's cousin. But I did manage to cast a 
 doubt in her mind as to when the robbery and substi- 
 
 266
 
 THE MISSING HEPWORTH 
 
 tution had actually occurred. Manlike, having made 
 my point, I was willing to retrieve. 
 
 Lady Hensington, who had become quite meek, 
 now asked my advice. She did not say it in so 
 many words for she was too well bred to hint but 
 since the diamond had been stolen during the evening, 
 it did seem hard that the loss should fall entirely on 
 her. The words she did utter with pointed meaning 
 were these: 
 
 "You are single, Roman, and you have more than 
 you want!" 
 
 Following this, she very tactfully suggested that a 
 loan, to be paid back in the future, say if a certain 
 London investment turned out well would be accept- 
 able. She had never asked for a loan before and this 
 was such a prodigious one ; yet what was she to do ? 
 
 But to this I would not listen. I had no intention 
 of burdening her with a debt that she could never 
 pay, and I told her so, adding a few cold crumbs of 
 comfort. 
 
 Meanwhile, I made up my mind what I would do. 
 My own sense of responsibility told me that I was in 
 a way to blame for the loss of the gem, even though 
 Sir Charles had taken it in Lady Kensington's presence 
 and had substituted a piece of paste, as I firmly be- 
 lieved. And I must restore it to her or its equivalent. 
 
 Going to her telephone, which happened to be a 
 boxed one in the hall, I made certain immediate ap- 
 pointments, the import of which I did not mention to 
 Lady Hensington; next I bade her good-bye civilly, 
 but I left her in uncertainty as to what course I in- 
 tended to pursue. 
 
 267
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE IV ALL 
 
 On the 'phone I had got the office of the best known 
 diamond broker in London, and as shops do not close 
 when a big sale is being negotiated, I had no difficulty 
 in persuading him to leave up his shades until I could 
 drive to his place. 
 
 It is not every day that a great diamond is sold ; and. 
 when it is known that an American is coming to make 
 the purchase, the interest runs high. 
 
 Morally, I might be culpable for the theft of the 
 jewel and I resolved to replace it. 
 
 268
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 I BUY THE KOHINA 
 
 1 FOUND Breistein, the famous broker, to be a 
 little man, sharp, shrewd and anxious. Mys- 
 terious dealings in the diamond world had 
 made him like a ferret in shaking- up trouble, and he 
 would not talk to me until he had conversed with 
 Morgan, Harges over the wire. When he returned his 
 manner had changed from indifference to confidence 
 and he talked freely and with the fluency of one who 
 understands his trade. 
 
 He offered me a cigar wrapped in gold foil. 
 
 I told him the object of my visit: that I wished to 
 know if there was a diamond to be had in London 
 now, a diamond as big as the Hepworth. 
 
 Yes, there was the Soudan. It was bigger, but not 
 as brilliant, and so less valuable. 
 
 It would not do! 
 
 He ruminated a minute, going to the 'phone again. 
 The Cecil had been placed with a broker and it was 
 to be disposed of; it was a pear shaped diamond of 
 prodigious size ; in value it compared with the Regent 
 and the Sancy, but it was pear shaped and did not 
 resemble the Hepworth. This made it out of the 
 question. 
 
 There was also the Kitchener, which was over a 
 hundred carats not so large as the others but very 
 white. The Cape Town, a blue diamond, could be 
 
 269
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 bought in Paris, if the buyer would assume the obliga- 
 tion of a mortgage ; and a Liverpool broker had tele- 
 graphed that day that the Rhodes, a diamond well 
 known for its pinkish caste, had been put with him for 
 immediate disposition ; and that was all. 
 
 None would do. I questioned him closely. He 
 could think of no others. Stay ! 
 
 He ran to the 'phone. 
 
 "I thought they'd be anxious to sell it," he observed 
 as he returned, "they've been going to put it on the 
 market, but dreaded the publicity until recently." 
 
 "Why are they willing to let it go now ?" I asked. 
 
 He laughed. "Oh, they've had a paste diamond 
 made of one hundred and fifty carats. It is so real 
 that a few feet away it would deceive anyone except 
 an expert, so they can dispense with the real diamond 
 without fear of family exposure." 
 
 Then he told me the story. An English prince of 
 royal blood had lost his all at gambling. To avert a 
 scandal his mother had obtained possession of her 
 share of the family gems a single crown jewel and 
 had given it to the princeling to sell. 
 
 "It's the famous Kohina," he whispered, afraid that 
 even the walls would hear. "First cousin to the Kohi- 
 noor and the twin stone of the Hepworth." 
 
 "Its price?" I asked feebly. 
 
 The reply staggered me ! 
 
 Lady Hensington had indeed put her fortune in the 
 Hepworth diamond if she had paid an equivalent sum. 
 
 "I'll take it," I said with a suddenness that ought 
 to have bewildered him, "and yon can deliver it to 
 me in half an hour at the Carleton." 
 
 270
 
 I BUY THE KOH1NA 
 
 He stopped and thought. 
 
 "I can do it," he decided. "But remember that it's 
 half an hour until the whole hour is up and wait." 
 
 "Trash!" I retorted, "the jewel isn't five minutes 
 off, if you take an electric; in ten minutes you can 
 have it at the Carleton, and this leaves fifteen for acci- 
 dents and delays." 
 
 He looked at me with admiration. It was not his 
 first experience in making a quick deal with Ameri- 
 cans, but I had him going and I could see that the 
 ferret in him was awake and working. 
 
 "I'll be there in the smoking-room at the right; but 
 don't let any one see me pass it to you ; and remember 
 when you're buying a gem of royalty that you're to 
 keep still about it forever. Diamonds are the play of 
 young princes just as racing is the sport of kings." 
 
 I promised all things and went to the Carleton at 
 the right time. Half an hour later he placed in my 
 hand the precious Kohina gem. 
 
 "It is a stone that has cost nine lives," he said, 
 laughing his quick, nervous laugh, "and it's been an 
 engagement present more times than there are English 
 kings in the royal sepulcher. It's said to bring luck 
 in love, if not at the tables." 
 
 I handed him an envelope which meant something at 
 the English bankers and put the diamond in my 
 pocket. It bulged out like a plum. 
 
 I had spent a fortune, the fortune which Florentine 
 and I might need, but I knew that the disposal of 
 money in this way could not have anything but her 
 approval. 
 
 I resolved that I would tell her. But I decided to 
 271
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 say nothing about the Scotland Yard man. In my 
 opinion it was very doubtful if he succeeded in getting 
 back the Hepworth. 
 
 When I went back to Aunt Faith's house which I 
 did as soon as possible I was shown into the draw- 
 ing-room. There was a little more formality in my 
 reception than I had grown to expect, and when 
 Florentine kept me waiting for ten minutes my won- 
 der grew. 
 
 As she entered the room I was still more surprised, 
 for she greeted me with a coolness that was most for- 
 eign to her ; a frigidity that bordered on hauteur. 
 
 Her sudden coldness had driven the warm impulsive 
 explanation that was on my lips completely out of my 
 heart. 
 
 "Why, what what is it?" I asked. 
 
 Florentine made no reply, but the haughty look 
 changed to one of obstinacy; her face, for the first 
 time since I had known her, wore an expression 
 which I did not understand. She chilled my marrow. 
 
 "What is the matter, Florentine, have I offended 
 you?" 
 
 Her reply staggered me. "Your Cousin Irene is 
 here. She came at noon. Aunt Faith invited her to 
 remain ; she sent for her baggage." 
 
 "Ah !" I observed, with my heart sinking. It wasn't 
 a wise observation, but it covered the situation, and 
 it was the best I had on hand. 
 
 "Her luggage arrived," continued Florentine, "and 
 I have been helping her unpack her boxes." 
 
 "You don't say so!" I exclaimed, simulating a 
 glee I did not feel. 
 
 272
 
 I BUY THE KOHINA 
 
 I knew there were breakers ahead and that they 
 were more fatal to happiness than deep sea waves. 
 
 Florentine tossed, actually tossed, her trim little 
 silver head. "I am helping her unpack her her 
 lingerie !" 
 
 Now, Cousin Irene believes in wearing home-made 
 underwear; she buys unbleached muslin and makes it 
 up herself; it is more sensible and more durable; I 
 have often heard her recommend unbleached muslin to 
 her sewing class. So I received this news without 
 elation. 
 
 "There's something I've been going to explain 
 Florentine." 
 
 "And she isn't fond of violet! Still, since the mat- 
 ter has gone so far, and as we are to separate imme- 
 diately after the ceremony, I don't suppose it need 
 matter." 
 
 "Oh, Florentine!" I cried, throwing a world of 
 pleading in my voice, "I don't ask you to believe me 
 now, but some day you will you must." 
 
 But Florentine was cool. "If you will excuse me, 
 Mr. Elliott, I will go back and finish helping your 
 cousin with her trunk. I may discover some of the 
 violet belongings which we saw in your apartment this 
 morning the heavily scented violet lingerie with 
 which your rooms were so bountifully supplied." 
 
 273
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 SHALL IT BE ORANGE BLOSSOMS 
 
 SHE rose and I might have considered myself dis- 
 missed but I was determined not to let a thing 
 like violet lingerie come between us. 
 
 "Florentine,"' I said, "would you believe me if if 
 I should tell you the truth?" 
 
 "You might experiment," she rejoined coldly. 
 
 "I've been interviewing your Uncle Jason," she 
 added. 
 
 Again I uttered the unwise "Ah!" 
 
 "Yes, and he tells me that you are not poor; he says 
 your grandfather willed you one fortune, and that 
 your father left you another and that your mother is 
 very rich and that you are worth a million pounds at 
 least in your own right." 
 
 "That is five times what it would be in American 
 money," I answered calmly. 
 
 "And that isn't all. He says you have a yacht, a 
 motor and an airship !" 
 
 "Riches fly !" I observed, "and I want you to know, 
 Florentine I want you to believe " 
 
 She looked so sulky that she frightened me. She 
 couldn't stand for my wealth. 
 
 Here was a good chance to break the news to her, 
 and it would be the truth. 
 
 "Florentine," I solemnly declared, "I have some- 
 thing serious to tell you." 
 
 274
 
 SHALL IT BE ORANGE BLOSSOMS 
 
 My long visage alarmed her and the haughty tilt of 
 her head was lowered to one of concern. She smiled 
 and I could see the cold look melt as dew before the 
 sun. 
 
 "Let me know the worst; I can bear it," she said, 
 and I saw that the heroine in her was aroused. 
 Woman is at her best when bearing a load; like the 
 caryatid that supports the great entablature of the 
 Acropolis of Athens, she can hold up her burden and 
 smile. Take away the burden and she goes down. 
 
 Florentine took a step toward me, her face full of 
 solicitude. 
 
 "You must tell me," she repeated, "even though I 
 have may have lost my regard for you !" 
 
 She tried to say it stiffly but failed. 
 
 And I did tell her; not all, but enough. I told her 
 that Lady Kensington had lost a diamond no! not 
 by my absence last night but through another source. 
 And that, as there was some discussion about it, I 
 felt in honor bound, both to my law firm at home and 
 to Lady Kensington, to replace it. , 
 
 "And it has taken a great deal of money, perhaps 
 your fortune," she cried, with vibrating voice. 
 
 It had taken part, but it hadn't taken all, and I as- 
 sured her that if she didn't care for the extras we 
 could still pull along. 
 
 "We can economize," she said, laughing merrily in 
 a way that proved she was her own sweet self again. 
 
 Yes, we could economize ! I once asked a busted 
 millionaire how he would begin to retrench. He said 
 he had put the same question to his wife the night 
 before. She said car fares ; he said waistcoats. 
 
 275
 
 I thought it all over now and I wondered how far 
 one could trolley on the price of the Kohina ; how 
 many times would a man have to lap his coat over his 
 stomach before he had saved the price of the Kohina 
 in waistcoats! 
 
 But if Florentine could not have the Kohina she 
 could see it. I drew it from my pocket and un- 
 clasped the leather case. It lay in its setting of black 
 satin, a thing of dancing incandescents. It was as big 
 as a hickory. 
 
 I told Florentine she might take it in her hand. To 
 my surprise she shook her head and turned away. 
 
 "I don't fancy diamonds very much," she remarked 
 carelessly. 
 
 "Don't tell Uncle Jason that after he shopped all 
 the afternoon for your matched collar.'' 
 
 Her expression softened and then she looked 
 straight at me and told a fib. 
 
 "I don't like such big, bright diamonds!" 
 
 It was a heavenly falsehood; one of the kind that 
 woman has told since the world began ; a falsehood 
 built of the bright fabric of which angels' wings are 
 formed ; a lie that makes for love. 
 
 There was a step outside. 
 
 Aunt Faith appeared at the door and I had to speak 
 to her. A minute later I had a chance to whisper to 
 Florentine : 
 
 "Shall it be orange blossoms ?" 
 
 She hesitated, and the little obstinate look came 
 back into her face ; her small nose lifted a trifle. She 
 couldn't forget it. 
 
 "Anything but violets," she observed with a touch 
 276
 
 SHALL IT BE ORANGE BLOSSOMS 
 
 of the frappe with which violets will always be asso- 
 ciated with her. "I particularly hate violets." 
 
 Which shows that a woman can forgive a man his 
 bad times, but never his good ones. 
 
 There was no time for another word for the orange 
 blossoms had arrived I had ordered them as a sur- 
 prise a great, snowy, fragrant mass, all packed in 
 flowering myrtle; and while Florentine hung over 
 them with glistening eyes, Irene came bustling in and 
 said that I must go. 
 
 I protested, but Irene was firm. There was much 
 to do. The orange blossoms must go in water and 
 she had promised Aunt Faith to help dress the draw- 
 ing-room and I would be terribly de trap at the best. 
 
 Florentine looked rebellious and I half thought she 
 was going to beg Irene to let me stay, for Irene with 
 a New England woman's mania for taking charge had 
 already become mistress of ceremonies ; but Irene was 
 more than obdurate. So I found my hat and slipped 
 away. 
 
 At the door Aunt Faith intercepted me and invited 
 me into her little reception-room across the hall. The 
 dear lady had, really, no excuse for stopping me, but 
 she wanted to explain, or apologize, for the lack of 
 formality, which lack was very unusual in an English 
 household, but I would understand that circumstances 
 could alter cases; and circumstances in this case had 
 been so very extraordinary, not to say peculiar, that 
 well, the hurried and informal wedding could not 
 be helped! 
 
 I promised to overlook all and to pardon all. And 
 then she told me of an almost similar instance in the 
 
 277
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 family of the Duke of Westminster, a thousand years 
 ago, before the Duke had been elevated to the peer- 
 age. It wasn't exactly similar but it served as a 
 precedent. 
 
 I kindly agreed to take it into consideration before 
 forming judgment. 
 
 And then Aunt Faith wanted to talk about Uncle 
 Jason, how handsome he was, how hearty in manner, 
 just like the Prince of Wales, and so clever! 
 
 I agreed to everything, but Aunt Faith still wanted 
 to discuss him. 
 
 "And of noble lineage, too!" she exclaimed. 
 
 Noble lineage ! I had known my Uncle Jason all 
 my life, but this was the first I had ever heard of his 
 noble lineage. 
 
 "Why, his ancestor commanded that vast ship, the 
 great Mayflower; and another noble ancestor fought 
 with General La Fayette in the great war of the Revo- 
 lution. He could have been a King no doubt if he 
 would have accepted the title; his name was Captain 
 John Smith, he was your uncle's uncle." 
 
 "Uncle Jason's uncle a king!'' I ejaculated. 
 
 "Certainly," she 'answered, "and he should be in 
 Westminster Abbey for his courage and his his 
 daring. Of course," added Aunt Faith, "it is to be re- 
 gretted that the Colonies ever uprose against England, 
 but since they did " 
 
 "Better not mention that to Uncle Jason," I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "I did mention it to him and he said just what I 
 knew he would say that he wasn't alive then." 
 
 "Indeed, no," I agreed. 
 
 278
 
 SHALL IT BE ORANGE BLOSSOMS 
 
 "If he had been," declared Aunt Faith, conclusively, 
 "there would have been no war, for the Colonists 
 would have made your Uncle Jason a king, and he 
 would have come over and sat on the throne with 
 King James and " 
 
 "Here's Uncle Jason now!" I cried, interrupting 
 Aunt Faith just in time for her history was dazzling, 
 "and you can tell him yourself !" 
 
 But she fled like a frightened girl. I afterwards 
 learned from Florentine that Aunt Faith had run 
 actually dashed upstairs to have her puffs pinned on 
 and her lace neckpiece adjusted. 
 
 I went out and stopped Uncle Jason, who handed 
 his box of red roses reluctantly to Irene, for he 
 wanted to present them himself, and, since we were 
 not wanted, I suggested that we go out for a stroll. 
 While we walked, I explained to him, as requested 
 by Aunt Faith, that such informal weddings were 
 most unusual in the English aristocracy. 
 
 "Bosh !" was his reply. "Why, Lord Saxe told me 
 this morning that the brother of the Earl of Holme 
 had run away with the sister of the Duke of Weimer, 
 and that the Countess Elizabeth of Saxe eloped with 
 the Marquis of Lorne-Schlesburg after only two 
 hours' acquaintance. Don't try to show your Uncle 
 Jason, my boy." 
 
 When we turned to retrace our steps to the house, 
 Uncle Jason called a hansom. "There's some class 
 about your uncle when he's in London," he remarked, 
 stepping in. And then, only then, did I see his 
 clothes ; he had garbed himself anew in latest London 
 fashion. A light topcoat of jaunty cut hung open and 
 
 279
 
 I could discern a dress suit of newest design. I looked 
 my surprise. 
 
 "Braid down the trouser legs," he observed, as 
 the hansom flew shut on us. Then to the cabby, he 
 called, "Go slow !" 
 
 My uncle's face had assumed the serious expres- 
 sion which means that he has something of note to 
 say. 
 
 "Roman," he said, "I've got something to tell you 
 and I suppose I had better say it now." 
 
 I had heard enough and was quite ready to dispense 
 with further revelations; for I was within a few 
 minutes of my marriage to the finest girl in the world ; 
 and it was pleasanter to look ahead than to be jarred 
 by current realities. 
 
 "No time like the present," I quoted. 
 
 "Well," he replied, "it's serious business and you 
 better be posted on it before Florry and and the 
 ladies hear about it." 
 
 280
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A POINT OF ETHICS 
 
 REACHING into his pocket Uncle Jason pulled 
 out a big white sheet of paper. "It's a bul- 
 letin," he said. 
 
 And while I looked at it wonderingly, he told me 
 how he had passed the Times office and had seen a 
 bulletin that interested him. Going inside he had given 
 the bill poster a guinea for the bulletin and had 
 brought it away entire. There it was, a big white 
 paper sheet, nearly six feet square, just as the bill 
 poster had torn it out of its frame. 
 
 "They'd have had an extra out in five minutes in 
 my country," he remarked, as he smoothed out the 
 paper and tried to get it far enough away for me to 
 read it. 
 
 Spelling the great letters out, as rapidly as I could ; 
 this is what I saw: 
 
 DEATH OF SIR CHARLES HADLEY. 
 FOUND MURDERED IN HIS ROOM IN 
 
 WENTSTONE CASTLE. 
 ROBBERY THE MOTIVE. 
 
 MURDERER ESCAPES. 
 BIG DIAMOND RECENTLY ACQUIRED BY 
 
 SIR CHARLES MISSING. 
 
 GREAT DROP IN SEPOYS FOLLOWING A 
 
 WEEK OF DULLNESS. 
 
 281
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 SIR CHARLES HADLEY'S MINES FORCED 
 INTO BANKRUPTCY. 
 
 JOHNNY THE AUSTRALIAN CROOK AT 
 
 LARGE; ESCAPES FROM THE ROOMS 
 OF BUD OF BATTERSEA; HEAVY RECOVERY 
 OF LOOT. 
 
 CLEWS IMPLICATE A RICH AMERICAN IN 
 
 THE MURDER OF SIR CHARLES HADLEY 
 
 AT WENTSTONE LAST NIGHT. 
 
 My eye followed the bulletin again. Sir Charles 
 murdered; my suspicions had come true! How 
 much had I been to blame and could I have prevented 
 the tragedy? The stairway on the wall had been too 
 great a temptation for the crook. But it was the fault 
 of Sir Charles after all ; the gleam of a diamond has 
 been responsible for more than one hanging. And 
 the rich American toward whom the finger of sus- 
 picion pointed ! I did not dare to think ! 
 
 And Johnny the Australian ; he had got away. But 
 they had recovered the loot, though not the Hepworth 
 or it would have been mentioned. It was too glori- 
 ous a thing to have its light hid under a bushel. 
 
 "I thought you better know it right away," said 
 Uncle Jason. "That fellow was killed just in time; 
 he'd have been arrested by to-morrow." 
 
 "Do you mean Sir Charles ?" 
 
 For I had read the big lettered bulletin without tak- 
 ing it in. "Is he dead?" 
 
 "Surely read the top line !" 
 
 "Great Scott !" I exclaimed with sudden realization, 
 282
 
 A POINT OF ETHICS 
 
 "they will know it at Aunt Faith's. When did it 
 occur ?" 
 
 "Bulletin just posted. Don't worry about it, my 
 boy, they haven't got a telephone and from what 
 Faith I mearj Lady Faith tells me, it will take a day 
 before the news gets to her. They move pretty slow." 
 
 I sank back in the cab in a blue revery and Uncle 
 Jason, himself, more upset than he would have ad- 
 mitted, let me think. 
 
 There are minds that work deliberately and it was 
 some minutes before the scene lay spread before me; 
 there was Sir Charles who went out to the Castle with 
 the big diamond in his possession the night before, 
 and out in the open road, before all those men, he 
 had displayed it. I had seen him flash it openly and 
 brag about it. Lurking in the bushes was Johnny, the 
 Australian Crook! How plain it all appeared to me 
 now. And Johnny the Crook had seen the diamond; 
 how could he help seeing it when Sir Charles held it 
 up, and he had waited. Then there came the time 
 when the Castle lay asleep, and Johnny, tempted by 
 the ladder on the wall, had gone up and done his 
 night's work. 
 
 I read the bulletin again: "Clews implicate a rich 
 American in the murder of Sir Charles." 
 
 It was all so clear to me now, but I did not speak 
 it aloud to Uncle Jason. It was evident that he had 
 not connected me with the American who had been 
 mentioned in the bulletin. But the line was ominous. 
 
 "I suppose we ought to tell them," I objected. 
 
 But to this Uncle Jason would not listen. He 
 didn't want Florentine's wedding spoiled and Sir 
 
 283
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Charles was an old wretch anyway, who didn't de- 
 serve to live ; certainly nobody would mourn for him. 
 So why spoil the nuptials? 
 
 At last I agreed, though a little reluctantly, to think 
 it over, and Uncle Jason destroyed the bulletin. 
 
 "I wonder who killed him?" he pondered. 
 
 I sat and reflected; it was plain to me that I could 
 not tell my Uncle all the circumstances attending our 
 courtship; yet it grew clearer that I must not marry 
 Florentine without letting her know of her cousin's 
 demise. It was one of those moments in life when 
 ethics darken happiness. 
 
 She had first considered marrying me solely to 
 escape falling into the hands of her cousin. 
 
 "What's the trouble?" pumped out Uncle Jason as 
 my cloudy countenance dimmed the cab. 
 
 I shook my head. "It may make a difference with 
 Florentine," I answered. 
 
 "Don't be a fool, my boy," he advised; "don't be 
 a fool; though I must say that you do come by it 
 honestly. Your father wouldn't propose for three 
 years until he got the consent of all the members 
 of your mother's family and then your mother put off 
 the wedding a year because your father's second 
 cousin objected to her. No wonder you're a damn 
 fool, Roman." 
 
 I sat silent, neither affirming nor denying ; yet there 
 was planted in my mind the firm conviction that to 
 marry Florentine without letting her know that the 
 one she married me to escape was gone, would be an 
 act to freeze the ethics of an atheist. 
 
 Of course, there was, as a balancer, her own family 
 284
 
 A POINT OF ETHICS 
 
 trouble of which we had agreed not to speak but 
 the man who buys a woman through her misfortunes 
 is not a man in love. 
 
 "Will you kindly tell me," said my Uncle, lowering 
 at me from his side of the cab, "what difference the 
 death of that old reprobate could make to Florentine? 
 She isn't going to be sorry enough to cry; and if she 
 wants to wear mourning for him she can put a black 
 band around her arm for thirty days." 
 
 Uncle Jason gave a Yankee chuckle; he couldn't or 
 wouldn't understand. 
 
 My only reply was a look duller than before ; a chill 
 had fallen upon my spirits; a something which I 
 dared not to utter aloud. 
 
 Uncle Jason's big, comfortable hand was laid on 
 my knee. 
 
 "What's the matter, my boy?" he queried, for it 
 would have taken no artificial lens to discover the 
 fact that I was wretched. 
 
 "Tell it to your old uncle !" 
 
 "Nothing," I answered. * 
 
 "Well, let it be nothing," he advised, "and cheer 
 up the best is yet to come." 
 
 "I know, Uncle Jason," I replied, turning to him, 
 just as I used to when I was a boy and wanted him 
 to do something for me, for I felt helpless as a child 
 at this instant. "I know, Uncle Jason, but " 
 
 "It's about that Sir Charles," he said, sobering his 
 voice, "and you think you ought to tell her because 
 she " 
 
 "That's it exactly; because she would never have 
 been or might never have been engaged to me 
 
 285
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 except that she was afraid of him and wanted to es- 
 cape from him." 
 
 Uncle Jason listened to argument ; then he coughed 
 and flourished his handkerchief; he always was soft- 
 hearted. 
 
 "You're right, Roman; you're right. And then, 
 again, maybe you're wrong!" 
 
 "I don't understand, Uncle Jason." 
 
 I spoke like a schoolboy. I was suddenly very 
 meek and humble; struck silly, so to speak, by the 
 hand of fate. The reading of that bulletin had 
 changed the whole horizon for me. Was I doing right 
 to marry Florentine under the circumstances, or was 
 I taking advantage of her? Would she have would 
 it have been the same between her and me if there 
 had been no will, no money, no Sir Charles? And 
 was she marrying me for love, or was it to escape 
 her much dreaded cousin? I faltered it out after a 
 fashion with reservations. 
 
 Uncle Jason was, for once, wordless. One broad, 
 kindly hand rested upon my shoulder, but my uncle's 
 voice faltered; he understood my feelings and he felt 
 for me. 
 
 "I suppose," he coughed, "I know you'd better 
 make a clean breast of it ; not that it'll make any dif- 
 ference to the girl !" 
 
 "I don't know," I admitted. 
 
 And then, though confessions were not in my legal 
 curriculum, I opened my lips and related more. I 
 told him about Lady Kensington and her trust be- 
 trayed ; how she had asked me to watch the Hepworth 
 and the other wedding presents and how I had slipped 
 
 286
 
 A POINT OF ETHICS 
 
 away left them and of the awful fact that the 
 wonderful Hepworth had disappeared. They were 
 in my care and I had deserted them for my own 
 interests. It was not the girl's fault; she had done 
 her part innocently; the baseness of it was all mine. 
 
 When I finished I looked at Uncle Jason, expecting 
 him to kick the cab door open and throw me out; I 
 was ready to go without protest. 
 
 To my surprise he threw back his head and laughed 
 immoderately, slapping both legs with vigor. 
 
 "Good !" he roared. "Ha, ha ! serves her right ! So 
 she stood you up there to watch those old bargain 
 counter presents, did she? Lady Hensington! Ha, 
 ha!" 
 
 "Why, yes," I returned, deeply offended. "Isn't 
 she an old friend of yours, and didn't you write and 
 tell her to ask all the favors of me she wanted to ask 
 and I'd do them for your sake? that is what Lady 
 Marie Hensington gave me to understand." 
 
 "Nix !" yelled Uncle Jason, shouting with laughter. 
 "And then, again, maybe I did! Anyway, you're a 
 simpleton, Roman, and Lady Hensington is a sharp 
 one. Ho, ho, when I knew her down on the farm, 
 thirty years ago, I called her Mary Green.''
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 FLORENTINE DECIDES 
 
 1 STILL looked dubious; even the fact that Uncle 
 Jason knew Lady Kensington when she was 
 Mary Green did not relieve me from the dark 
 burst of cloud that was rolling toward me. "I've re- 
 placed the Hepworth," I observed, showing him the 
 stone, the great Kohina, worth a king's ransom. 
 
 "Almighty!" he ejaculated, blinking at it. 
 
 "I shall tell Florentine about her cousin," I said 
 abruptly switching the subject, "and I shall release 
 her from her engagement." 
 
 Uncle Jason snorted. 
 
 "Just like your father. He paid his doctor the day 
 before he died for fear they'd get fighting over his 
 estate and not leave enough to pay the bills. You'll 
 go up to Heaven some day in a fit of conscientious 
 scruples." 
 
 But though he spoke brusquely, I saw in his firm 
 face that he approved of my course; the girl should 
 be told and released from her obligation. 
 
 "There's one thing more," I said thickly, and 
 though I don't know how I did it I told him about 
 Florentine's mother of her life the terrible photo- 
 graph of her and how the whole chain of Montana 
 mining camps rang with her exploits. 
 
 "She is the most notorious woman in the States," 
 I said. 
 
 288
 
 FLORENTINE DECIDES 
 
 "Who said so?" demanded Uncle Jason. 
 
 "Sir Charles he showed Florentine a picture that 
 prostrated her." 
 
 Uncle Jason laughed. 
 
 "That reminds me of your Aunt Maria," he re- 
 marked, inspecting the toe of his boot with critical 
 attention, "and the time she bought a crape veil for 
 me. I was away two days, and when I got home I 
 found her sick in bed and the dressmaker cutting out 
 a black bombazine dress." 
 
 "What was the matter?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, somebody told her I had been killed in a train 
 smash-up and she believed it." 
 
 "And it wasn't so?" 
 
 "Nit!" exclaimed Uncle Jason; "it was the man 
 next door. So your Aunt Maria got up out of bed, 
 paid the dressmaker and lent the crape veil to the 
 woman next door whose husband did get smashed up. 
 After that, whenever Aunt Maria got borrowing 
 trouble I used to point to the box under the bed where 
 she kept the crape veil. And it hushed her up." 
 
 There was a silence that could have been cut. 
 
 "Anything else?" inquired Uncle Jason jocularly. 
 
 "Yes, there is," I replied doggedly, for there was 
 something in my uncle's receptivity to delight the 
 heart of a man. 
 
 And then I repeated to him my ugly threat to kill 
 Sir Charles and how I had found the bloody dagger 
 in the woods only shortly afterwards. 
 
 "It's all circumstantial evidence," I admitted, "but 
 it's pretty strong." 
 
 "Does Florentine know?" asked my uncle. 
 289
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "Yes," declared I, "and she is indignant " 
 
 A burst of laughter greeted me. 
 
 "Ho! Ho! Ho!" roared Uncle Jason. "Just like 
 your Aunt Maria again. She married me the day 
 I was suspended because she was indignant at the 
 faculty. Now it's just like a woman to love a man 
 all the more because he's going to get hung for mur- 
 der." 
 
 Suddenly sobering, my uncle leaned toward me. 
 
 "Did you do it, my son?" he asked. "If you killed 
 him, don't be afraid to tell me; I'm here, and we'll 
 fight it out together; I'm only a little over sixty now, 
 and I'll stay here and help you till Father Time draws 
 the tape on me at the century mark." 
 
 "No !" I answered emphatically, "I did not lay 
 finger on him except in a square fight!" 
 
 "Then shut up and, remember, not a word of this 
 to the ladies ! Bless me, I'm wiping my eyes !" 
 
 We were near the house and Uncle Jason was evi- 
 dently correct in assuming that the knowledge of the 
 death of Sir Charles would not have reached Aunt 
 Faith so soon, for as we turned the corner we saw 
 the lights gleaming from all the panes, while darting 
 shadows told us that the mansion was already in gala 
 attire. 
 
 It was after seven o'clock when we alighted at the 
 door, and Uncle Jason, always ready for dinner, was 
 getting impatient. 
 
 We went up the steps ; he quickly, I moodily, for I 
 knew that I must forfeit my right to enter as a bride- 
 groom. 
 
 But we were greeted in a way which, for a minute, 
 290
 
 FLORENTINE DECIDES 
 
 upset even the robust calm of my Uncle Jason. At 
 the head of the steps the door flew open to us and 
 the doorman, usually a model of training, pulled us 
 inside with a whisper to keep quiet. 
 
 Instantly Florentine appeared and beckoned us into 
 the little reception room; her face was white, and 
 dark shadows lay under her beautiful eyes. Uncle 
 Jason and I stepped in after her. It was a critical 
 moment for us all, but she read our faces and, before 
 speaking, she knew that we already knew. 
 
 "A servant came from the Castle. She ran away, 
 frightened at the murder, and came here. She was 
 almost beside herself with terror. She saw him it 
 was murder they tried to conceal the facts at first 
 for the sake of Aunt Hope and the others." 
 
 "And she told you all?" 
 
 Florentine tried to speak, but it was difficult. Her 
 cousin's life had been an unpleasant one, and for 
 years she had scarcely known him. But the shock of 
 it, the suddenness, the tragedy, had told upon the dear 
 girl's already tired nerves. But it was evident that 
 she did not associate the diamond with his death. 
 
 Florentine gave me an appealing glance. Uncle 
 Jason saw it and slipped out into the hall ; I looked at 
 her and she at me. 
 
 "It is awful for us all but I must bear it alone; 
 it would be cruel to tell Aunt Faith now, when she 
 is so happy and it would do no good. Can we not 
 wait, or is it all over now?" 
 
 There was something dubious in the last words, or, 
 rather, in the tone in which they were spoken. I re- 
 solved to have the matter settled at once. 
 
 291
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "And now, Florentine," I asked, "what is it to be?" 
 
 "I suppose I ought to release you," she said, ''since 
 you were marrying me to save me from him. But it 
 is so hard, and I am so alone!" 
 
 "Do you mean it?" I asked. 
 
 Florentine began to cry, but her head was upon ray 
 shoulder and crying is a pleasant pastime for a 
 woman when the man's shoulder is her own. 
 
 "I can't let you go," she sobbed. 
 
 "Neither can I," I exclaimed idiotically, "and I 
 wouldn't if I could." 
 
 She suddenly smiled. 
 
 "Be careful not to alarm Aunt Faith," she cau- 
 tioned; and then she would have slipped away, but I 
 detained her. 
 
 "Florentine," I asked, "if a dark suspicion should 
 
 be thrown upon me you would not believe " 
 
 The words came hard. "You would not think me 
 guilty of anything?" 
 
 "Not even of murder!" 
 
 "Not even of murder?" I repeated. 
 
 It was out at last. 
 
 "No!" she said sharply, and I saw that she under- 
 stood. "Never !" 
 
 "You know that Sir Charles was killed at almost 
 the very hour I was waiting for you in the woods 
 and that well ! I had no cause to love him !" 
 
 "You didn't do it," she exclaimed, "and if you had 
 you would have done it to save me." 
 
 And then she darted away and was gone. 
 
 When I went out into the hall I found Uncle Jason 
 still hanging up his coat. He was humming a love 
 
 292
 
 FLORENTINE DECIDES 
 
 song, the chorus of which ran, "There's only one girl 
 in the world for me." 
 
 And in the drawing-room door stood Irene, calm 
 and confident ; I felt surer all of a sudden. 
 
 "I love you, Cousin Irene," I declared, "and Flor- 
 entine will love you too; you are such a comfort to 
 us." I had stopped worrying for the moment. 
 
 "She already loves me," said Irene, "and she gave 
 me these." 
 
 I followed Irene's practical forefinger until it rested 
 upon the neck of her gown. 
 
 "She gave me her string of pearls; they're inside 
 the neck of my dress. I prefer to wear them inside ; 
 they are safer and I don't intend to part with them > 
 ever." 
 
 I told Irene that I was glad Florentine gave her 
 the pearls. 
 
 "But why don't you wear them where they can be 
 seen?" 
 
 "They're safer inside," decided Irene, "and I'm 
 going to wear them there. The President of the 
 Ladies' Club bought some pearls in Italy when she 
 was on her wedding tour. She has worn them under 
 the yoke of her dress for twenty years." 
 
 "Very well, Irene," I remarked, "wear them where 
 you please." 
 
 Irene smiled the gratified smile of a woman who 
 has proved her point. 
 
 "Now," cried she, taking me by the hand, girl 
 fashion, "I want you to see the decorations; I don't 
 believe you have noticed them yet. Come and take 
 notice." 
 
 293
 
 I turned to Uncle Jason. 
 
 "You're all right, my boy," said he. "You're all 
 right! She'd have married you if you had been 
 walled up in a dungeon and she had had to go and 
 break down the door." 
 
 I am rather glad she was not compelled to take any 
 such strenuous action, I thought, as, impelled by 
 Irene, I began to "take notice" of the drawing-room. 
 
 "The girl is a bargain," said Uncle Jason, "and 
 I'll take her part against you any time, if you don't 
 come up to her specifications if you ain't the bar- 
 gain package she thinks she's drawing you tell her 
 she can send me a wireless and I'll come and get her; 
 that girl can be my niece any day." 
 
 But Irene had dragged me out of ear-shot. And 
 now, my eyes were needed for the sights. The little 
 house was, indeed, all rejoicing, for Irene had proved 
 herself no inefficient hand at management, and an air 
 of wedding festivity hung over the mansion. Even 
 the wedding bell was present, for Irene, by some 
 legerdemain, and with the aid of a near-by florist, 
 had achieved a floral bell which for size and pictur- 
 esqueness left nothing lacking. I wondered how Flor- 
 entine and I would look standing under it, and how 
 \ve should feel if it should fall. Irer^ read my 
 fears. 
 
 "I built it on father's umbrella," she said, now fully 
 recovered and delighted at an appreciative audience. 
 "And it's as firm as Gibraltar. We covered the han- 
 dle with lilies and hung a lily on each spoke. The top 
 is partly green paper and partly roses. The florist 
 didn't have enough green leaves to cover it." 
 
 294
 
 FLORENTINE DECIDES 
 
 "Don't tell me any more, Irene," I replied. "Let 
 my imagination play." 
 
 Her face fell. 
 
 "You are a wizard," I added, "and you've turned 
 two prosy beings into Fairy King and Queen with 
 your umbrella wand and your green paper." 
 
 Irene smiled as delightedly as a child with a toy. 
 
 "We are most ready now" she exclaimed, giving a 
 lily a final nudge. 
 
 "Where's Mr. Pancoast?" I inquired. "I shall never 
 feel sure of our nuptials until I see him on the spot, 
 safe and sane." 
 
 A sigh was distinctly to be heard. 
 
 "He is in the reception-room across the hall," said 
 Irene, "and I am afraid he heard you." 
 
 I looked over into the little room and there sat 
 the Rev. Mr. Pancoast. Stepping across the hall I 
 accosted him. He did not reply, and a shock went 
 through me for he sat with his face buried in his 
 hands, his shoulders shaking, and the tears trickling 
 through his long thin fingers. I touched his arm and 
 asked him what was the matter. He shook his head 
 and I caught the words, "Man cometh up as a flower 
 and is desperately wicked." 
 
 I thought of the orgy of the night before and a 
 sympathetic feeling warmed me. 
 
 "Does your head ache?" I asked. 
 
 "It splits!" he replied. 
 
 "Cheer up," I urged, but his depression was of a 
 kind that knows no sudden cheer; the gloom must 
 wear off. 
 
 I turned and found Irene by my side. 
 295
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 "Why didn't you ask them, Aunt Hope and Aunt 
 Charity?'' she inquired. 
 
 I briefly explained the matter to Irene, thus: 
 
 "This is practically an elopement," I declared, "only 
 we preferred to elope to the house of Aunt Faith and 
 .have you and Uncle Jason among those present." 
 
 "That is the way one of the ladies of the Dorcas 
 eloped," confided Irene, "and it was most satisfactory; 
 saved all the bother and there were no wedding pres- 
 ents to be exchanged afterwards." 
 
 Here Irene produced a spray of myrtle which Flor- 
 entine had sent down as a boutonniere for me; Irene 
 fastened it on. 
 
 "I am pressing an orange blossom," said she, "for 
 the Ladies' Club. They never saw a real orange 
 blossom in Beverly; they always get married in paper 
 ones." 
 
 And now, for miracles will happen even in these 
 days, there was a step upon the staircase and we heard 
 a dainty rustle. Irene looked and gave a cry of sur- 
 prise and disapproval, but Uncle Jason and I spoke our 
 delight. 
 
 For it was Florentine! And, of course, she 
 shouldn't have been seen, for a bride should be invis- 
 ible until the last moment. But there she was, all 
 dressed in a wedding gown which had lain these 
 years in Aunt Faith's treasure chest waiting for this 
 day! I opened my mouth to speak. No sound came 
 forth but I am free to confess that the blood flooded 
 my face a joyful red. But Florentine had no eyes 
 for me. She had a message for Uncle Jason and her 
 lips were parted in an anticipatory smile that should 
 
 296
 
 FLORENTINE DECIDES 
 
 have warmed his soul. In her hand Florentine held 
 a red rose, and she extended it to Uncle Jason. 
 
 "Come and get it," she challenged him, standing on 
 the bottom step of the stairs. ''Aunt Faith sent it to 
 you and she wants you to wear it." 
 
 Uncle Jason jumped as if electrified. 
 
 "Sure, I'll wear it," he exclaimed, "come here and 
 pin it on me, Florry ! Fix it so it looks nice !" 
 
 Florentine laughed as she came to him with the 
 
 rose. 
 
 art 
 
 I'd kiss you, Florry," he said, 'but there's some- 
 thing on my mind." 
 
 "Plenty of time for that later," I observed. 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Roman, but listen to me; I for- 
 got to tell you." Uncle began a narrative that for 
 positive interest held me spellbound. Florentine, in- 
 tent on pinning Aunt Faith's rose to his lapel, stopped 
 and listened with the rose held suspended in mid- 
 air. 
 
 Yet the communication was commonplace enough ; 
 certainly Uncle Jason had no idea of the tumult it 
 created the actual cataract of joy and contrition 
 in the hearts of Florentine and me. 
 
 I don't recall his words but they were to the effect 
 that he had stopped around at my rooms to leave some 
 packages, some wonderful bargains he had bought, 
 and that while he was there, the manager, evidently 
 much impressed by Uncle Jason's robust personality, 
 judging from the narrative, had come out to interview 
 him. 
 
 "They're all cut up," declared my Uncle, "about 
 that affair of last night." 
 
 297
 
 "What affair?'' I asked feebly for Florentine was 
 listening, rose held aloft. 
 
 "That affair about the little actress the girl they 
 accidentally put in your rooms while you were 
 away. They got her out early this morning but the 
 management is all upset about it. They're charging 
 you three times as much as the apartment is worth, 
 and now, they're afraid you'll leave because they put 
 that highflier of a girl in your room by mis- 
 take." 
 
 Uncle Jason paused. I looked at Florentine. The 
 dear girl drew a long breath was it a sigh of relief ? 
 and began industriously pinning the rose. 
 
 "I told them," went on Uncle Jason, "that it was a 
 damn shame, all right. Excuse my French, this time, 
 Florry you can't teach an old parrot to quit such 
 language and that I wouldn't blame you if you 
 moved right out of their place. But I guessed, being 
 that you were going to get married and felt amiable, 
 that you'd excuse them this time, if they wouldn't let 
 it happen again." 
 
 "Happen again !" I exclaimed sharpfy, "I should 
 think not !" 
 
 Florentine gave a start of indignation and the pin 
 slipped and went right through the coat and into her 
 pretty thumb. 
 
 "Happen again," I repeated. "If they ever do let 
 such a thing happen in my rooms again !'' I ground 
 my teeth. 
 
 Uncle Jason looked down at Florentine and caught 
 the look of rebellion in her flashing eyes, also the flush 
 of anger of her usually tranquil brow, and these signs, 
 
 298
 
 taken with the pricked finger, conveyed a clue to my 
 uncle's nimble wits. 
 
 "That's what I told 'em, Roman! I said it was a 
 
 damn Aunt Maria used to make me say 'darning 
 
 needles' shame to treat you that way. And I told 
 'em you never did care for little actresses, not even 
 in your salad days, hey, my boy!" 
 
 A vigorous wink from my uncle accentuated this 
 statement, and Florentine looking at him, and just 
 missing the wink, gave him a- glance of thanks. And 
 now, the pin driven home by certain fingers held fast 
 the stem of the rose and its glowing petals stood 
 proudly in place upon Uncle Jason's lapel ; a stunning 
 red emblem sent to him from the depths of the ap- 
 preciative heart of Aunt Faith. 
 
 "It will do!" said Florentine. 
 
 "It will do, fine," echoed Uncle Jason. 
 
 A tug at Florentine's gown recalled us all to the 
 present. It was Irene, a more or less patient witness 
 of that which, to her practical mind, seemed a waste of 
 time and energy. 
 
 "If you intend to be married " she wailed. 
 
 "I'm coming, Irene," said Florentine, and up the 
 stairs they disappeared. 
 
 At that instant there was a sound at the door bell. 
 
 Could anything else have happened ! What could 
 come to disturb us at this hour? I opened the door 
 myself. On the step outside stood a tall, well built, 
 wiry looking man. 
 
 It was a messenger, a stern faced man who must 
 speak to me at once. I conversed with him in an un- 
 
 299
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 dertone and the import of his words was such that 
 I deemed it expedient to accompany him. 
 
 Though the day had been one of ordeals I felt that 
 the most trying of all was now to come ! 
 
 "Anything wrong ?" asked Uncle Jason anxiously as 
 I hastily explained the situation while I flung on my 
 coat. 
 
 "Yes, and no!" I replied; "delay matters a few min- 
 utes if you can. There is no alternative for me but 
 to go." 
 
 "Go where?" 
 
 "It's her mother! She's here in London and she 
 insists on seeing me." 
 
 I acted mechanically, as one who is stricken numb 
 of sensation by dread. Florentine's mother, the 
 woman who was the direct cause of so much misery 
 to her, had sent for me. And her messenger was there 
 waiting to take me. 
 
 "I'm coming," I said, keeping him outside until I 
 could, after a few directions to Uncle Jason, join him. 
 
 300
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH HER MOTHER 
 
 THE door closed behind us shutting out the 
 light and we groped our way down the 
 steps wet with the fog. 
 
 In the street stood a splendid touring car, and, as 
 I glanced at it, my guide uttered a curt : 
 
 "Get in!" 
 
 A ribald woman passed with a word on her lips and 
 I shuddered; the horror the dread of what was to 
 come was upon me! 
 
 He followed me and closed the door giving no di- 
 rection, but immediately the car started, going at rapid 
 pace ! My guide said no more but his assumption of 
 authority irritated me. 
 
 "Who are you?" I asked. 
 
 He looked at me grimly: 
 
 "I am her brother," he replied. 
 
 "The brother of " 
 
 "Of the Honorable Mrs. Hadley " 
 
 "Whom we are going to see?" I persisted. 
 
 "Yes!" he said shortly and lapsed into silence. 
 He had taken the seat opposite me and I studied him. 
 He was big and strong, well built of body and serious 
 of expression, but his face looked to me ominously 
 grim as I furtively stared at him. I noticed that his 
 deep complexion and well developed hands were those 
 
 301
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 of a man who has lived in the open. His dress, 1 
 was pleased to observe, was correct, and his voice, 
 when he spoke, was that of a gentleman. 
 
 "Are we going far?'' I queried impatiently, "for I 
 am I have an engagement an urgent " 
 
 "I know," he interrupted, "but it can wait; it w r ill 
 have to wait!'' 
 
 As he spoke he threw open the motor door with a 
 free and accustomed motion of his hand, and to my 
 surprise, I saw that the car had stopped. We had not 
 gone two squares, and we were halted in front of a 
 house whose front windows almost commanded a 
 view of Aunt Faith's domicile. 
 
 I stepped out and looked up; the building was a 
 modern apartment of most exclusive air. The win- 
 dows were richly but quietly curtained and at the 
 door stood a lackey whose livery denoted the char- 
 acter of the house within. 
 
 Too surprised for words I followed my guide 
 whom I could not yet address by name into the 
 lift and up to the floor above. He walked through 
 the wide and splendid hall, I following after in that 
 daze of mystery and dread which a man feels when he 
 is going to face the unfaceable. 
 
 "How had the woman obtained entrance to this 
 house and what would she have to say to me !" 
 
 I braced myself for the ordeal, for my guide had 
 flung open a door ; at the same time he half pushed me 
 in, and I found myself in a drawing-room which, 
 though small in size, was of such richness that I could 
 but note it. Yet, in spite of its splendor, there was an 
 overnote of deep refinement. 
 
 302
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH HER MOTHER 
 
 Too well, I knew that no place, however well 
 guarded, could be sure of keeping its doorstep 
 clean. 
 
 I stood inside the door, and as my eyes became ac- 
 customed to the light, I noticed, standing at one of 
 the windows, a slight figure. 
 
 It was a lady; she was small and delicate; even 
 against the window pane, I saw that she was willowy 
 of build; her hair, which was combed softly back, 
 was a silver grey and she wore a bonnet at the front of 
 which gleamed a snow-white widow's ruche. She 
 might not have been over forty but her widow's veil, 
 her plain black gown and the simple white bands at 
 her throat and wrist made her look much older. 
 
 She was almost within arm's reach of me yet she 
 did not speak. Her face, which was of transparent 
 whiteness, was turned away and I noticed that the 
 hand which held her handkerchief to her lips was as 
 delicate as the hand of an invalid. 
 
 I waited in some embarrassment. 
 
 She took a step toward me but did not extend her 
 hand. 
 
 "Pardon me," she uttered softly, "but the occasion 
 the trial is almost more than my frail strength can 
 endure." 
 
 I placed a chair for her and murmured something. 
 
 "You are Mr. Roman Elliott," said she, "and you 
 are from Boston?" 
 
 "Yes, Madame !" I replied. 
 
 "I sent for you " 
 
 Her voice was the feeble one of a sick woman, an 
 invalid of numbered days, and to my fancy it seemed 
 
 303
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 far away as though it had preceded its owner into a 
 shadow land. 
 
 "I came to see Mrs. Hadley," I interrupted; "there 
 is some mistake, madame!" 
 
 "I am Mrs. Hadley, the Honorable Mrs. Hadley," 
 she continued with an effort, "the mother of Flor- 
 entine." 
 
 "Madame !" I exclaimed rising and bowing, "let me 
 pay you my respects and congratulate you '' 
 
 "Do not," she answered, motioning me back to my 
 seat. "The time is short and my strength is almost 
 gone." 
 
 It seemed preposterous and I could not adjust my- 
 self to it. 
 
 I would have stopped her but with a gesture she 
 begged to be allowed to proceed, and for the next ten 
 minutes she held me spellbound, her brother standing 
 guard in the background. Her speech, though rapid 
 and at times incoherent, as she related her story, 
 bespoke a woman who has lived a lifetime of ultra 
 refinement, weak, perhaps, wholly unassertive, yet 
 a lady to her soul's core. Her accent, the broad 
 vowels, her selection of words, all told of 
 the woman who, through all her trouble, has preserved 
 her moral tone, if not her self-assertiveness. 
 
 "It seems late to tell you what I must say," she re- 
 sumed, "but I know you are about to marry my daugh- 
 ter and there are things that should be uttered. No," 
 in answer to my unspoken word, "I will not go to her ; 
 it is better not. I am as dead." She coughed violently 
 and a maid brought her a glass of water. 
 
 "It was not always with me as it is now," she con- 
 304
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH HER MOTHER 
 
 tinued faintly; "when I was married it was with pros- 
 pects as bright as those that now lie before my daugh- 
 ter. But they faded." 
 
 ''Do not tell me now " 
 
 She stopped me with a gesture. 
 
 "Florentine's father and I did not get on well. I 
 was too timid, too shrinking, and I cowered from the 
 life of London. I would not take my place in Eng- 
 lish society, and his sisters, who had looked forward 
 to it, condemned me. I was to blame. But we drifted 
 apart. I took my baby, and leaving my money be- 
 hind me, I went home to Boston that, too, is my na- 
 tive city ! But I took care to guard the child's future 
 by settling an annuity upon her; upon that she has 
 lived. 
 
 "It is a strange time to tell you all this but you see 
 it was as sudden to me as it was to you." 
 
 Painfully she resumed. 
 
 "But her English relatives wanted her. I was al- 
 lowed to keep her on condition that, at her father's 
 death, I would send her back to England to be brought 
 up by her aunts. I fought it bitterly but there were 
 accusations brought and threats made. And, under 
 the stress of it all, my health failed ; at the same time 
 Florentine's father died. 
 
 "While I was prostrated they brought the child 
 back to England ; it was a year before I knew it, for 
 my condition was so feeble that I could hear nothing. 
 
 "When I could be moved my brother came for me 
 and took me in his private car out to his home in 
 Montana. It is a magnificent estate, high in the 
 mountains and secluded from the world so that, shel- 
 
 35
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 tered there I recovered. But my spirit was gone. 
 And even when my physical health improved, I con- 
 tinued to live the life of a recluse." 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 "But you will recover you are better now !" 
 
 She shook her head with a sad smile. 
 
 "I shall be no better ever," she replied. "But I 
 knew that I could not die nor live unless I had 
 seen the husband of my child the man who is to 
 take my daughter's happiness into his hands." 
 
 "I am afraid I cannot say much for myself," I re- 
 sponded, "except that I love her." 
 
 "It is enough and to know that you are not marry- 
 ing her for that foolish fortune which she will never 
 need." 
 
 "You are right," I returned humbly. "She will not 
 need the fortune ; I have already arranged for her to 
 dispose of it elsewhere in any way she pleases." 
 
 My hostess did not hear me. 
 
 "I will not detain you longer," she said rising. 
 
 "But, surely, you are going to see Florentine." 
 
 Again she shook her head with the same sad smile. 
 
 "I am not able it would be too much I return at 
 once. I cannot live in these altitudes, in the high 
 mountain air of Montana perhaps, for a little while " 
 
 "But we may come to see you " 
 
 "Yes," she agreed hesitatingly, "but it is like lifting 
 a chapter from the past. Oh, do not think," she added, 
 her voice growing stronger, "that I have been forget- 
 ful of my daughter. Her governess was in my em- 
 ploy; her maid was my maid; twice a year her uncle 
 has crossed to see her all unknown to Florentine. The 
 
 306
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH HER MOTHER 
 
 law and my weak consent foolishly took her from 
 me but I never gave her up. It was only recently that 
 I received word that they were going to force a mar- 
 riage upon her before her twenty-first birthday. 
 
 "And, though I have not left my room a dozen 
 times in as many years, I made a last effort for this 
 journey. This apartment, as you see, was in readi- 
 ness for me. My brother has kept it all these years in 
 anticipation of just such a moment as this." 
 
 She paused and bowed, slightly supporting her- 
 self with her hand on a chair back. 
 
 I thought that she did not know Sir Charles or had 
 forgotten him and I mentally resolved that I would 
 not disturb her by mentioning his name ; but I was 
 mistaken in thinking her uninformed. 
 
 "I fear my daughter has had much trouble with her 
 Cousin Charles," she said. "Poor fellow, I remem- 
 ber him as such an unfortunate such an ill-tempered 
 boy!" 
 
 I wanted to burst forth and tell her all, but delicacy 
 forbade. This spirituelle creature whose heart had 
 been broken years before could stand no agitation. 
 
 "I am not to tell Florentine?" I queried again for 
 her manner and tone had all indicated that our con- 
 versation was to be preserved inviolate. 
 
 "Not yet some time perhaps when you come 
 
 She motioned me away, and I saw that I must go. 
 
 And so I left her standing there. She was like a 
 wraith of memory, a delicate dream-woman, so 
 ethereal that as I whizzed back in the automobile 
 which waited for me at the door, I could hardly be- 
 
 307
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 lieve that I had been conversing with a woman of 
 flesh and blood. 
 
 But I had seen Florentine's mother and a great 
 wave of thanksgiving rose within me. I longed to tell 
 the dear girl, to tell Aunt Faith, Uncle Jason every- 
 body. 
 
 And even in my happiness I found room to anathe- 
 matize Sir Charles! 
 
 At the portal of Aunt Faith's house Uncle Jason 
 was waiting for me. He opened the door and, with 
 a hearty shoulder grasp, he demanded: 
 
 "What news ?" 
 
 "All's well!" I ejaculated so fervently that he 
 gave me a double hand clasp. 
 
 "Thank God !" he said with another mighty grasp. 
 
 But now they are assembling in the drawing-room, 
 and Mr. Pancoast, assisted to his feet by me, had 
 struggled into his cassock and surplice, but his feelings 
 were still of the most mournful. Reluctantly he 
 donned the white satin neckpiece, insisting as he put 
 it on, that man was prone to err, and that his experi- 
 ence of seventy- four years had only confirmed him in 
 this opinion. 
 
 As we were putting on the final touches and were 
 waiting for the bride Irene wanted to play the "Lo- 
 hengrin" but I begged her not to there came a mes- 
 senger with a note from Lady Kensington. She knew 
 where I was for I had 'phoned her; also that I would 
 replace the Hepworth. The note, on Lady Kensing- 
 ton's best stationery and in her most conciliatory tone, 
 read: 
 
 308
 
 My dear Roman : 
 
 "I take the earliest opportunity to congratulate you on 
 the return of the silver; your work as a detective was 
 highly successful, and Scotland Yard is, I hear, anxious 
 to secure your permanent services. The gold goblet was 
 brought back this morning and the chest of silver fol- 
 lowed. They found both at the address you gave them, 
 but the man they call 'Johnny, the Australian Crook,' was 
 not captured. You did a splendid piece of detective 'busi- 
 ness,' as the man from Scotland Yard calls it; and now, 
 please forgive me for any haste I may have shown or 
 any impatience. It was more than kind of you to offer 
 to replace the Hepworth, and you can bring the diamond 
 to me here as soon as you have purchased it. I am really 
 sorry you will have to expend so much money, but you 
 understand my distressing position. My congratulations. 
 Sometime you must explain it all to 
 
 "Yours ever gratefully, 
 
 "MARIE KENSINGTON." 
 
 "P.S. Pardon my postscript, but I add a line to say 
 that I am still heart-broken about the turquoise brooch. 
 It seems that Johnny the Crook took.it, but it was sold 
 by a woman pal of his. It was a lovely pale blue tur- 
 quoise, set in a white silver filigree setting, and it was, 
 I should say, as big as an after-dinner coffee saucer or 
 an American trade dollar." 
 
 I read the note through twice; then Irene tapped 
 at the door and we hustled into the large drawing- 
 room. 
 
 Of course Florentine was there. Perhaps it would 
 be sufficient to say that she was there and to stop, 
 for from the minute she entered the room with Aunt 
 Faith I had eyes for no one else, and I do not think 
 that any one else had except Uncle Jason, who 
 stepped out of his place along the wall out of the 
 
 309
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 ranks so to speak to pick up a red rose which Aunt 
 Faith had dropped from her corsage. 
 
 And then, after a rustle and a stillness, the cere- 
 mony began. I heard with one ear, but with the other 
 I listened for a ring at the door bell. I was "under 
 suspicion," as the bulletin had been read and bad news 
 travels fast. 
 
 Mr. Pancoast is considerably over six feet tall, and 
 as he towered above us in surplice and stole, we could 
 have been excused for feeling awed; but what then 
 was our dismay to hear the opening lines come rolling 
 forth thus : 
 
 "Lord, let me know mine end, and the number of 
 my days, that I may be certified how long I have to 
 live. Man that is born of woman hath but a short 
 time to live, and is full of misery." 
 
 I glanced furtively at Florentine. 
 
 "My God, he is burying us alive !" I whispered. 
 
 "Hush!" softly said The-Lady-Who-Instructs-Me. 
 
 Mr. Pancoast discovering his mistake was thumbing 
 back the leaves to the form of solemnization of matri- 
 mony, and soon we had the joy of hearing the fam- 
 iliar : 
 
 "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here, in 
 the sight of Cod, and in the face of this company, to 
 join together this man and this woman in holy matri- 
 mony " 
 
 It was a relief to us all. We were too happy to 
 die, and we did want to be joined together in holy 
 matrimony. 
 
 After the ceremony there were congratulations, and 
 I have a mixed memory of being generally handed 
 
 310
 
 PRINCE AND PRINCESS CHARMING 
 
 around and kissed. I was as wretched as so happy a 
 man could be, but out of the confusion of sounds one 
 incident remains quite distinct. Uncle Jason drew me 
 aside. 
 
 "Do you see that turquoise brooch ?" he asked. 
 
 "I see the beautiful diamond necklace you bought 
 for Florentine," I said. 
 
 "Bother Florentine," was my uncle's unchivalric 
 reply. "I mean the blue stone brooch Lady Faith has 
 got on. It's in the front of that lace collar of 
 hers." 
 
 I glanced at Aunt Faith and saw that which made 
 me stare. Around her shoulders there was thrown a 
 white lace scarf, and in the front the scarf was fas- 
 tened with a big pale blue turquoise brooch set in a 
 filigree frame. It was as big as an after-dinner coffee 
 saucer, or an American trade dollar. 
 
 "I gave it to her," he exclaimed triumphantly. 
 
 "Where did you get it?" I asked. 
 
 Uncle Jason looked wise. 
 
 "I bought it of a lady on the street. The poor thing 
 had lost her purse and couldn't get home. She was 
 from Liverpool and had come to London for a few 
 days' shopping and she needed the money. I was 
 looking in a window at some brooches when she 
 stopped me and told me the whole story. She said 
 she would sell it at a bargain and I bought it. I tell 
 you it's a beauty." 
 
 "What did she look like?" I inquired in sudden 
 curiosity. 
 
 "Red hair, healthy pink cheeks, big handsome figure, 
 long coat and veil ; kept her face pretty well covered
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 as she didn't want folks to see her selling her breast- 
 pin," she said. 
 
 "Too bad," I murmured. "Did she say anything 
 else?" 
 
 "No, she hurried away as soon as she got the money. 
 I told her she could send me the money any time and 
 I'd send her back the brooch, but she said no, she'd 
 rather sell it outright." 
 
 "I'm sure she would," I declared emphatically. 
 
 312
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV, 
 
 PRINCE AND PRINCESS CHARMING 
 
 4 6 "V^ T OW, who's going to take the bride out to 
 1^^ supper?" asked Uncle Jason, which re- 
 ^ minded me that we were still getting 
 
 married. 
 
 "I think it is Lady Faith's dinner hour," I sug- 
 gested, as I rejoined Florentine, who had moved from 
 under the bell, but was being congratulated and 
 wished much joy again and again by Irene, who does 
 nothing by halves. 
 
 "Dinner is next on the program, I believe," ob- 
 served I, smiling at Florentine, "and, Mrs. Elliott, if 
 I may have the pleasure " 
 
 The clock struck. 
 
 "It's just time for Aunt Faith's dinner," exclaimed 
 Florentine. "It is the hour when she always looks 
 for the arrival of her Prince Charming." 
 
 "He has arrived !" I remarked. 
 
 We looked down the center of the drawing-room 
 door just in time to see Uncle Jason making a low 
 bow to Aunt Faith, a bow which was returned with 
 a court courtesy. And then, before our astonished 
 eyes, she linked her arm in that of Uncle Jason and 
 they, too, swept through the drawing-room and into 
 the dining-room beyond, leaving Florentine and Irene 
 and me to follow as we pleased. 
 
 313
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 Uncle Jason seated Aunt Faith at the head of the 
 Feast Board he had temporarily forgotten Florentine 
 then he stood at his own chair at the foot of the 
 table, a seat he had usurped at once as his own, and 
 looked around. But his gaze wandered back to Aunt 
 Faith. A rose was in his buttonhole; he took it out 
 and lifted it, extending it delightedly toward her. The 
 dear old lady rose and courtesied and seated herself 
 again with her hand resting on the roses in her cor- 
 sage. 
 
 A waiter, all deaf and dumb after the manner of 
 waiters, was passing down the table, filling the glasses 
 with their sparkling bumpers. 
 
 "A health!" cried Uncle Jason. "A health to all 
 of us!" 
 
 He lifted his glass. 
 
 We all looked at Aunt Faith; her hand shook, but 
 she raised hers. 
 
 "And to My Lady!" said Uncle Jason, making a 
 bow at her that nearly overturned the table. 
 
 "I've been doing a little proposing of my own !" he 
 declared, "while you and Florentine have been busy 
 with your affairs." 
 
 His eyes wandered from the astonished face of 
 Florentine to that of my own surprised but gratified 
 countenance. 
 
 Then his glance rested upon his daughter Irene. 
 
 "What do you think of it, Irene?" he asked, and 
 there was just a tinge of trepidation in his voice. 
 
 "Oh," said Irene, "I guessed it an hour ago and I 
 wrote a letter home to Beverly telling the neighbors all
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH HER MOTHER 
 
 about it; but I thought I'd better not mail it until you 
 set the day." 
 
 "Name the day !" exclaimed Uncle Jason, gleaming 
 down the table at Aunt Faith. 
 
 "Hold!" interrupted I, "this is our wedding!" 
 
 There was a jangle at the door bell ; Florentine and 
 I both sprang to our feet. I started for the door, and 
 with a remark that I would answer the bell I went 
 out, closing all the doors after me. 
 
 As I opened the front door a burst of sound came 
 in. The front stoop seemed filled with people. There 
 were three men, and on the doorstep stood Lady Hen- 
 sington. 
 
 "Pardon me!" she exclaimed, "but it was too good 
 to keep." 
 
 She opened her cloak and took out a box; she un- 
 clasped it and a gleam shot out from a stone of heroic 
 size. It was the Hepworth ! Lady Hensington almost 
 shrieked with excitement. 
 
 "We recovered it late this afternoon," she cried joy- 
 ously. "They found Johnny, the Australian Crook, 
 and he had it on his person." 
 
 "He was concealed in a hidden passage in the wall," 
 interrupted a detective. 
 
 "And they got the Hepworth !" said Lady Hensing- 
 ton, "and you needn't replace it !" 
 
 "He's confessed, too," said the detective. "He mur- 
 dered Sir Charles Hadley at Wentstone last night. 
 Went up a stairway on the outside of the wall !" 
 
 "Incredible!" I ejaculated. But I was the only one 
 present who knew how perfectly credible it was. 
 
 Well, I shook hands with them all and excused my- 
 
 315
 
 THE STAIRWAY ON THE WALL 
 
 self as soon as possible, dismissing them rather uncere- 
 moniously. 
 
 Then I went back to my wedding feast, but I had a 
 lighter heart than before. 
 
 Florentine, too nervous to sit quietly, had risen 
 from her seat. I went straight to her and laid on 
 her plate a black leather case. 
 
 "It is the Kohina diamond," I said, "and it is a wed- 
 ding gift. They've found the Hepworth!" 
 
 "Mrs. Elliott's health !" roared Uncle Jason. "And 
 the health of the diamond." 
 
 Everybody drank delightedly. 
 
 Florentine took the diamond and gave me one look, 
 a look out of which fear for my safety and anxiety 
 for my future had vanished, a look in which under- 
 standing held rendezvous with understanding and we 
 knew now that the path of happiness lay broad and 
 clear ahead.
 
 The TEMPTATION 
 OF ST. ANTHONY 
 
 By GUSTAVE FLAUBERT 
 
 Translated by LAFCADIO HEARN Introduction by ELIZABKTII BISLAND 
 
 This translation of the great French masterpiece, which 
 has been called "The Epic of the Human Soul's Search 
 for Truth," was recently discovered among Lafcadio 
 Hearn's posthumous papers. The whole tendency of 
 Hearn's tastes fitted him especially of all writers to turn 
 that masterpiece into its true English equivalent. 
 
 The tortured Saint is whirled by vertiginous visions 
 through cycles of man's efforts to know why? whence? 
 whither? He assists at the terrifying rites of Mithra, 
 the prostrations of serpent-worshippers of fire, of light, 
 of the Greek's deified forces of nature, of the Northern 
 enthronement of brute force and war. Plunges into 
 every heresy and philosophy, sees the orgies, the flagel- 
 lations, the self-mutilations, the battles and furies of 
 sects, each convinced it has found the answer to the 
 Great Question. His experiences startlingly reproduce 
 the scientific and spiritual researches of the man of 
 to-day. 
 
 $1.25 net; postage, 10 cents 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK and SEATTLE
 
 TRAILS THROUGH 
 WESTERN WOODS 
 
 By HELEN FITZGERALD SANDERS 
 
 The author-artist gives us an idyl of forest trails, cloud-swept 
 mountains, glacier-born cascades, gentle Selish and heart-broken 
 Indian chiefs, born to learn their day is past. The book will 
 widen the circles of those who regret the passing of the brave, 
 free life of the wilderness. 
 
 The author deserves the gratitude of the American nation for capturing 
 the nebulous star-mist of its beginnings and that which went before." 
 
 y. T. Timtt. 
 
 Illustrated by the Author. Colored end sheets. 
 $2.00 net; postage IB cents. 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 AVENUE NEW YORK and SE ATTLE 'BUILDING
 
 A MAN OF 
 TWO COUNTRIES 
 
 Other books : STORIES OF MONTANA, SONGS 'o THE SOUND, CHAPERONING 
 ADRIENNE THROUGH THE YELLOWSTONE, SONGS o' THE OLYMPICS 
 
 QUERY. Why does 
 
 ...i Englishman ever 
 become an Amerl- 
 can? 
 
 TIMK. 1878-1891. 
 PLACE. Montana. 
 
 THE MAN. A young 
 Englishman. 
 
 THE GIRL. There 
 are two. 
 
 A Man of 
 Two Countries 
 
 Alice Harriman. 
 
 A story with hither- 
 to unused local colur 
 and thoroughly 
 original characters 
 
 Illustrated with pen 
 and ink chapter 
 headings by C. H. 
 Dowling. 
 
 Striking four color 
 
 Price $1.50, postage lie. 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 AVENUE N E W Y O R K and 
 
 C 17 A T T T 17 818 DENNY 
 
 ftli, A 1 I l^Ji, BUILDING
 
 The SUPERINTENDENT 
 
 By IRENE WELCH GRISSOM 
 
 New Characters, Scenes and Theme 
 
 Irene^lch Grissom 
 
 A strong story of the Sawmill Country in Western 
 Washington. Redolent of fir, cedar, and hemlock as 
 the whirring saws let loose the stored perfume of the 
 growth of centuries. 
 
 $1.35 net ; postage 10 centa 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK and S E A T T L E
 
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