The House of Mystery

by Will Irwin

  XIII

  ANNETTE TELLS THE TRUTH

  It seemed to Blake, waiting in Rosalie's sitting-room for a quarter ofnine, that this silent house of mystery vibrated suppressed excitement.He sat with his hands clenched, his body leaning forward, in theattitude of one waiting the signal to strike. Rosalie, sitting oppositehim, sent over a smile of reassurance now and then, but neither spoke.

  There was no need of words. They had talked out the smallest detail ofRosalie's plot, even to mapping the location of the furniture. Inch byinch, objection after objection, she had conquered his cautions andscruples; had persuaded him that the dramatic method was the bestmethod. When Blake entered the house, nothing was left to chance exceptthe question whether Norcross would miss his engagement to "sit" withMrs. Markham. Rosalie settled that. From the front windows, she hadobserved the green limousine automobile waiting by the curbing outside;through her open registers she had caught the murmur of conversation.

  So even Rosalie, whose tongue ran by custom in greased grooves, foundnothing to say until the little mantel clock tapped three times toannounce a quarter to the hour. It brought Blake to his feet with sucha jerk that Rosalie shook both her hands at him by way of caution. Atthe door she stopped a second, put her lips to his ear.

  "I don't have to tell you to be brave, boy," she said. "But keep yourhead and don't git independent. You do what I say!"

  She touched his side pocket, which bulged. "An' not too brash withthat!" she added. "Revolvers is good for bluffs but bad for realbusiness!"

  Blake nodded. And for the second time they crept down the silent,padded halls to those apartments above Mrs. Markham's alcove library.They approached, then, not the closet door, but the door leading tothat boudoir which he had seen once before through Rosalie's hole inthe wall paper. Rosalie applied a key, turned it with infinite caution,opened the door, motioned him in. The room appeared as before. Thelight burned low over the white desk; the portieres hung close. Rosaliepointed to the rounded, further end of the room--the space where he hadseen the ghostly thing which was Annette disappear through the floor.That floor space was bare; a rug, rolled up, rested against the furtherwainscot. Blake took it in, and smiled at Rosalie as though to say,"everything is ready I see!" Then for a minute they stood immobile,listening. A murmur of conversation came up from below, and in the roombehind the portieres someone was breathing, lightly, regularly. Rosalietouched his arm and beckoned. Moving without sound, they lifted theportieres, stepped within.

  No light inside that room, except the low radiance from a prone figureby the outer wall. It seemed at first that this ghost of Annette laysuspended between heaven and earth. Blake's mind put down the awe whichwas stealing over his senses. His eyes sharpened until he could makeout a few details.

  At the right, dimly suggested, was a disordered bed. Annette lay on acouch. The robes swathed her from head to foot, but the veil over herface was parted as though to give her air. Her eyes were closed; herarms, with something strained and stretched in their attitude, layalong her sides.

  And now Rosalie had her lips at his ear.

  "Quick!" she said.

  Blake crept to Annette's side and spoke in a low tone.

  "Annette, this is I--Walter, your lover. You belong to me. I revoke noother commands, but you are to listen to me also and do as I tell you.Answer me first. You have been commanded to rise when you hear music?"

  As by the miracle of one speaking in normal tones out of sleep, Annetteanswered:

  "Yes."

  "Speak low. You have been commanded to enter the other room then, turnout the light, lift a trap, let down a rope ladder, descend it, and saycertain things?"

  "Yes." The tone was less than a whisper.

  "Have you been given anything special to say to-night--has anythingbeen impressed upon you?"

  "Yes."

  "What is it?"

  "After the rest, I am to say: 'Robert, they tell me that the greatdanger is near. They give me a message which I do not understand--"Declarethat dividend tomorrow." You do not know the awful things which willcome if you do not.'"

  Blake could hear Rosalie catch her breath at this. It came to him,also, that he had intervened at the very climax of Mrs. Markham'soperation on Robert H. Norcross. But he went on firmly:

  "Obey that. Do as you were told. But do something else. So that youwill remember, I am going to whisper it in your ear."

  Blake leaned over for a minute, and whispered. Presently he raisedhimself a little, so that he bent over her face, and said in a lowspeaking voice:

  "Do all that. I command you. I am Walter, and you must obey me. Andremember especially--when you have done it all, then wake--wake and donot be alarmed. Do you hear?"

  "Yes."

  "Will you obey?"

  "Yes."

  "You will not be frightened?"

  "No."

  Rosalie touched his arm. Blake, with one last look back, steppedoutside and dropped the portieres. Rosalie drew him into the hall,softly locked the door, beckoned him to follow to the head of thestairs. And hard upon this movement, the piano downstairs began:

  _Wild roamed an Indian maid, bright Alfaretta._

  "Make no noise--and hurry!" whispered Rosalie. Down the stairs theywent, and stationed themselves by the hall door of the drawing-room.There, it was pitch dark. Without risk of being seen, they could lookalong the dim reaches of Mrs. Markham's parlors. From a point abovetheir heads, a little, shaded cabinet-lamp gave a fan of low lightwhich shone full on the dark curtains of the alcove library. They couldmake out, by his white hair and collar, the back of a man, and ashadowy figure at the piano. "Wild roamed an Indian maid" was fallingaway to its dying chord. Silence settled again; the back of the old manswayed. Mrs. Markham spoke from the piano stool:

  "I feel your influence, Helen. You are stronger every time, dear,because his love grows stronger. Come, dear--come."

  A pillar of light glowed against the cabinet curtains. Norcross rose;Blake could catch a suggestion of his face and collar against the darkdraperies. There came the same exchange of love words, of pats, ofcaressing speeches, which he had heard from the closet; even now,better understood as this thing was, the sound of them drew his fingernails up into his palms.

  Rosalie's touch brought him back to his sense of observation. Here,now, came the climax; here the moment upon which everything depended.The low, sweet contralto voice was saying:

  "They tell me that the great danger is near. They give me a messagewhich I do not quite understand. They say, 'Declare that dividendto-morrow!' You cannot know what awful things will follow if you donot."

  Rosalie's clutch tightened on Blake's arm. For the voice had ceasedaltogether. A silent moment; then they saw the pillar of light become acrumpled blotch on the floor, heard a sudden shuffle of feet, heardAnnette's voice, loud, clear, distinct, crying:

  "This is a lie! I am not Helen Whitton! I am Annette Markham. I am nota spirit! I am alive! You are being fooled--fooled!"

  There followed a jangle of piano keys, as though something had droppedupon the keyboard.

  In that instant, Rosalie Le Grange jerked the string of the cabinetlight, throwing the shutter wide open. The details of that group by thecurtain blazed into Blake's sight as he jumped forward--Annette, all inblack, her white gauze robes a crumpled heap at her feet, swaying inthe center of the floor; Norcross a huddle against the wall; Mrs.Markham, stiff as though frozen to stone, leaning against the piano.More light blazed on them; Blake knew that Rosalie, according toprogram, had lit the gas. He reached the curtains an instant beforeMrs. Markham, roused to sudden, cat-like action, threw herself towardAnnette. Blake came between; out of his pocket he whipped the revolver.

  "I'm talking to you all!" he said. "You, old fool over there, and you,you devil! I'll kill the first that moves!"

  Now Rosalie had slipped up beside Mrs. Markham, laid a hand on hershoulder.

  "Don't make any fuss, my dear. I'm a medium myself an' I've beenexposed four times. Take it fr
om me, _your_ play is to be a lady--anda sport."

  Suddenly, Mrs. Markham lifted herself from the piano keys and spoke:

  "Annette, my dear, control yourself. Come to me, dear--my poor, insaneniece. Mr. Norcross, I will explain these intruders later. Come to me,dear!" She had stepped toward Blake, who stood with his left arm aboutAnnette. Blake felt Annette shrink away from him, felt her sway towardher aunt. He raised the revolver.

  "Stay where you are!" he commanded. "Annette, listen to me. I controlyou now--I! Until I say otherwise, keep your face on my shoulder. Donot look up. Keep your mind on what I am saying."

  Annette's first movement away from him ceased. She gave a littleinarticulate murmur of obedience. Simply as a child, she settled herface into the hollow of his shoulder.

  He turned to Norcross.

  "You old fool--" then he caught the face of him who had been king ofthe American railroads. Norcross had settled into a chair; more, he hadshriveled into it. His mouth had fallen open as from senile weakness;his eyes, suddenly grown old, glazed and peering, seemed to strugglewith tears. His hands moved uncertainly, feebly.

  "I beg your pardon, Mr. Norcross," he said, "I came here to-night totake away this girl, whom I intend to marry, and I'm excited. Nowlisten--Annette, I want you to listen also. Keep your mind upon mealone, dear, and remember I told you not to be frightened. This girl isward of that she-devil there. Since her childhood, Mrs. Markham hasbeen hypnotizing her--for her own purposes. So good a subject has shebecome that Mrs. Markham uses her to play ghost for theseseances--without her own knowledge--"

  "Stop!" cried Mrs. Markham.

  "Now, my dear," protested Rosalie, "I've been in the house four weeksjest watchin' you work. Your play is to shut up until you see whatwe've got in our hand. If you don't, you'll put your foot in it!"

  As though aware of her presence for the first time, Mrs. Markham turnedand looked Rosalie straight in the face. And as though realizing thecommon sense in this counsel, she seated herself. Only a gnawing at herunder lip indicated her mental disturbance.

  Now Annette, as though beginning to realize the situation, was sobbingsoftly. Blake patted her shoulder; and the passion went out of hisvoice. But he still held the revolver alert in his free hand.

  "STAY WHERE YOU ARE," HE COMMANDED]

  "Her method is fairly established. In a few minutes, I will permit youto see the trap between the ceiling of that cabinet room there and thefloor of the room above. The trap is hollow; in it, for safety, shekeeps those phosphorescent robes"--he nodded toward the white heap onthe floor--"all her cabinet paraphernalia, and the notes on such asyou. Full information on your love affair with Helen Whitton has beenin that trap for weeks." Then, seeing how raw was the nerve which hehad touched in the old man, he added:

  "I beg your pardon again, sir; but I must speak of this. Mme. Le Grangethere--my agent in this house--is an expert on such matters. Sheinforms me that those notes are the work of a private detective--thatthe information comes from an old aunt of Helen Whitton who must havebeen her confidante. Do you see now what happened? Every night of aseance, Mrs. Markham has prepared for you by sending this girl to bedearly--by sitting beside her and putting her to sleep. That is whatMiss Markham, in her innocence, calls it. It _is_ sleep--the hypnoticsleep. Miss Markham is in bad condition. Her nerves are those of theoverworked hypnotic horse. Mrs. Markham has used that as a pretext forputting her to bed early. Shall I particularize? Do I need to go on?"

  "Oh, pray do! You are very interesting!" spoke Mrs. Markham from thepiano stool.

  "I will--since you wish it," returned Blake with an equal sarcasticcourtesy. "When sleep was established, Mrs. Markham made her rise anddress herself in those phosphorescent robes"--he pointed to the gauzyheap on the floor--"put her back on the couch, and gave her directions.She was to rise at a signal--you know it--'Wild roamed an Indian maid.'Must I tell you any more?" he burst out. "Do you know that three nightsago I looked into her sitting-room above that trap and saw her--saw hergo down to you--heard what she said to you!"

  Annette was gasping and moaning.

  "Oh, did I do that?" she said.

  "No, sweet, _she_ did it," he said. He turned to Rosalie. "Take thisrevolver and keep order for me. Annette ought not to stand any longer."Still keeping her head on his shoulder, he seated her beside him on acouch. "She has never heard this before, Mr. Norcross, and you mustknow what a shock she is suffering. This is a desperate case, and itrequired a desperate remedy. That accounts for this drama to-night.Mme. Le Grange there is housekeeper of this place, and my agent.Putting her in this house was part of the remedy. Fifteen minutes ago,she and I entered the room where Miss Markham lay in hypnotic trance,waiting to go down to you. I supplemented Mrs. Markham's suggestion bya command of my own--you know what it was. I took a risk. One neverknows whether a hypnotic subject--even such a perfect one as this--willobey a supplementary suggestion. Had it failed, had she started backtoward the ladder, I should have turned on the lights and seized thespook in the vulgar manner, and Mrs. Markham would have had thethousand excuses which a professional medium can give in suchcircumstances. But Annette obeyed--she even woke on my command beforeshe had fulfilled the whole of Mrs. Markham's suggestion--because welove each other. That made the difference." He drew Annette's headcloser on his shoulder. "I'm going to take her away to-night. She'sdone with all this." He turned to Mrs. Markham. Her hand still restedon the keyboard. Her face was pale, but her lips wore a sneering smile."It is your turn, Madame," he said.

  "I lose gracefully," answered Mrs. Markham, "yet if Mr. Norcross willthink very carefully, he may realize that I am not all a loser."

  Rosalie crossed the room to Dr. Blake. "Here, you take this thing," shesaid, extending the revolver, "it makes me nervous, an' I told you atthe start there wasn't no use of it."

  And now, something had clicked in Norcross again. His mouth had closedlike a vise, light had come back to his eyes; he was again the Norcrossof the street.

  "You're a devil," he said, "but you're a marvelously clever woman--"

  "So clever," responded Mrs. Markham in dulcet tones, "that I intendnever to worry about finances again--by your leave, Mr. Norcross."

  "That means blackmail, I suppose," said Norcross.

  "Now, Mr. Norcross, I beg of you," protested Mrs. Markham, "I have_never_ used harsh names for unpleasant truths with you! Do me the samecourtesy. You will agree, I think, that the Norcross interests wouldsuffer if people knew that Robert H. Norcross was running to spiritmediums--my business is little appreciated. The newspapers, Mr.Norcross--"

  "Would any newspaper believe you?" asked Norcross.

  "An admirable method," responded Mrs. Markham, "an admirable method ofgetting these people before the public as witnesses"--her gestureindicated Dr. Blake and Rosalie--"would be to sue for custody of myniece, whom this young man intends, I believe, to take away tonight.Certain unusual features of this case would charm the newspapers."

  Rosalie shook Blake's shoulder.

  "Doctor!" she cried, "can't you see what she's aiming at? She's tryingto drag us into her blackmailing. She's tryin' to make this look like aplant." She whirled on Norcross.

  "Listen, Mr. Norcross. I'll tell you what this was done for! Do youknow a youngish lookin' man, smooth-shaven, neat dresser, gray eyes,about forty-five, got something to do with Wall Street, wears one ofthem little twisted-up red and white society buttons in his buttonhole,has a trick of holding his chin between his fingers--so--when he'sthinkin'? Because _he_ started it. He's the nigger in your woodpile. Hecame here a week before you ever saw Mrs. Markham, bringin' the notesabout Helen Whitton--the dope that she's been feedin' you. If you'llput that together with what the spirit--she--Miss Markham, told youtonight about declarin' dividends--"

  "Mrs. Granger," interrupted Mrs. Markham, "you are a shrewd woman, butyou carry your deductions a little far--"

  "Deductions, your grandmother!" retorted Rosalie Le Grange, "To thinkhow close you come to foolin' even _me_ that'
s played this game, girland woman, for twenty-five years! If I hadn't caught you so anxious tostop that little girl from seein' that you kept Practical Methods ofHypnotism' hid behind the bookcase, I'd have gone away from herebelievin' that she was deep in the mud as you was in the mire. Youcertainly sprung a new one on me!"

  The eyes of Norcross lighted, as though with a new idea, and he brokeabruptly into this feminine exchange:

  "I do not believe that this is a plant. Mrs. Markham, shall webargain?"

  "I like the life in London," said Mrs. Markham. "I have been waiting toretire."

  "Twenty-five thousand dollars?"

  "Oh dear, no! Fifty."

  Norcross drew a check book, flipped it on his knee. Mrs. Markham raiseda protesting hand.

  "Yes, you will--you'll take it in a check or not at all," he said. "Iwant this transaction recorded. I'll tell you why. It is worth justthat to keep this story out of the papers. I was caught, and I pay. Itis worth no more. I will give you this check to-night. You will cash itin the morning. I shall have the cancelled check as a voucher. If everyou ask me for a dollar more, you go to State's Prison forextortion--on the testimony of these three witnesses. My legaldepartment is the best in the country. In short, it is worth fiftythousand dollars to me. It is not worth fifty thousand and one. Also,you sail to London within a week. Does that go?"

  Mrs. Markham drummed a minute with her fingers, and her face went ashade paler.

  "It does," she said in a low voice.

  Blake bent over Annette.

  "Do you hear that?" he asked. "Do you know what it means? It is calledblackmail!"

  "Oh, Aunt Paula, Aunt Paula!" whispered Annette. Her face settledcloser on Blake's shoulder, and she burst into a torrent of weeping.

  Rosalie tiptoed to the desk, bringing pen and ink, which she laid onthe table beside Norcross. It was quite evident that one of theirnumber was by this time enjoying the situation.

  "Keep everybody here for three minutes--I'll be back," she said toBlake, and floated out of the door.

  As Norcross handed over the check, Dr. Blake spoke:

  "I am taking Miss Markham away. She is not to see this womanagain--taking her to my aunt's house. I, too, want a witness. If I havedone anything for you to-night, will you return it by setting us downin your automobile?"

  "Certainly," responded Norcross. "I suppose I ought to thank you--butI've got to think this thing out." He scrutinized Blake closely. "Howabout you and the papers--I hadn't thought of you--"

  Blake, still dropping soft love pats on Annette's hair and shoulders,looked into the eyes of the railroad king.

  "I have earned that opinion, I suppose," he said. "I can't say that Ifeel myself greatly superior to--to anyone here--tonight. But I've donewhat I started to do. My name is Blake, Mr. Norcross--Dr. Walter H.Blake--lately army surgeon in the Philippines, if you take myprofession as a voucher. My father was Rear-Admiral Blake, if familywill help establish me. Or, better, I intend to marry this girl as soonas the license clerk will let me--and it isn't likely that I'll makepublic anything that involves my wife and her people. Does that satisfyyou?"

  Norcross ran his eye across them. It rested a moment upon Annette; anda ghost of that late emotion, of which she had been the instrument,flashed across his face.

  "I guess I'm satisfied," he said.

  Now Rosalie, in hat and wraps, stood at the door carrying her suitcase.

  "Sorry to leave without notice, Mrs. Markham," she said, "but youremember I haven't drawn no pay as housekeeper for doin' you up. Iguess we'd all better be goin'. Here's your hat, Dr. Blake, and a furcoat and boots for Miss Markham."

  Paula Markham, twirling the fifty thousand dollar check idly in herfingers, rose from the piano stool.

  "I wish you to listen, Dr. Blake," she said, "although you may notbelieve it, I am really fond of Annette. The temptation to use herbecame too strong. Believe me, I have intended for some time to stopit. I had stopped it in fact, when this big fish came to my net. Youhave seen, no more keenly than I, how hard it was on her nerves. Takeher away and give her a good time--she needs it. Indeed, had you comeinto her life a little later, I should have welcomed you--for after Ifound that she had no clairvoyance in her, I wanted her to be happy."

  "You had an admirable way of showing it," responded Dr. Blake. "Whatabout putting aside earthly love for strength?"

  "It kept off the undesirables," said Mrs. Markham, "and just then--withthis large order in hand--you were an undesirable. I shall not ask youto let me see her for the present--indeed, I am going away--but yearsfrom now, when you and she have softened--"

  "When her will is built up--perhaps."

  "May I kiss her?" For the first time in his experience of her, Blaketraced a note of feminine softness in Mrs. Markham's tones.

  Blake took the back of the little head firmly in his hand, pressed theface tightly on his shoulder.

  "Her cheek--yes. You must not look into her eyes."

  As Mrs. Markham lifted her face from Annette's cheek, the tears showedunder her lids.

  "But, oh, Annette," she whispered, "I ask you to believe that I amreal--that once I was all real--but I fell like the rest."

  For the first time Annette spoke coherently.

  "Oh, Aunt Paula--it breaks my heart--but I will try to remember onlyhow kind you were."

  And now Rosalie had wrapped her for the street; and now the door closedbetween Mrs. Markham and her biggest operation.

  * * * * *

  Rosalie was first to quit the automobile--she had asked Norcross todrive her to a woman's hotel.

  "Good-night, people," she said cheerily at the curb, "I hope it ain'tgood-by to any of you. Doctor, I'd like to be invited to the weddin',however private--that's my tip. When I git settled again, I'll send youmy card an' address. Good-night, Mr. Norcross, I'm real pleased to havemet you. I had a cousin who was a conductor on one of your roads an' healways spoke nicely of the way he was treated. An', oh, yes! Don't youworry about _me_ givin' any of this away. I'm a medium, all right, butI ain't in that kind of work. I ain't recommendin' myself, of course,Mr. Norcross, but if you git over this--they generally do--an' wantsome good, straight clairvoyant work done, write Mme. Rosalie LeGrange, care the _Spirit Truth Bulletin_, an' I'll recommend you tothem that are strangers to graft. Good-night."

  After they drove on, Blake, brazenly patting and caressing Annettetoward calm and a right mind, furtively noticed Norcross as the bandsof city light flashed his figure into view. He was huddled in a cornerof the cushioned seat; he looked again the pitiful, broken,disappointed old man. But when he parted from the lovers at the curb ofan old house in Lexington Avenue, his voice came out of him withcertainty and ring.

  "If I can do anything more for you in this matter, I am at yourservice," Blake had said.

  "I will attend to the rest myself, thank you!" answered Norcross.

  "It has occurred to me," continued Blake, "that Mrs. Markham willcommunicate at once with whatever confederates she had in thisbusiness. I hope you don't mind my mentioning it."

  "Probably," responded Norcross, "she's at the telephone now. That's mypart of it. Good-night."

  XIV

  MAINLY FROM THE PAPERS

  (From the Wall Street _Sun_, Oct. 21, 190-)

  Whatever motive impelled Robert H. Norcross to his mysterious operations in L.D. and M. during the past two days, it looks rather like stock manipulation than the larger financing which has hitherto marked his career. When, on Wednesday, the directors of the L.D. and M. adjourned without declaring a dividend, that stock, which had advanced somewhat owing to the speculative trading of the past three weeks, fell from 56 to 50, and closed weak at 49-1/4. Directly after the close of the exchange, Norcross, as though by program, reconvened the directors, who declared a dividend of one and one-half per cent. The news was about by the time the market opened yesterday, and L.D. and M. made the record jump of the year, going to 76 and closi
ng strong at 75-1/2. It scarcely went below that point to-day, and at two o'clock touched its highest notch--76-3/4. Considerable criticism of Norcross was heard on the street to-day.

  (From the Wall Street _Sun_, Oct. 24, 190-)

  BROKERAGE FIRM ASSIGNS

  The firm of Bulger and Watson, promoters and Stock Exchange operators, made an assignment this morning. Liabilities $276,125; assets $81,300. This failure followed the collapse of the Mongolia Copper Mine in Montana, news of which reached New York last Saturday. Bulger and Watson were heavily interested in that property. An unusual feature of this failure, according to those on the inside, was the action of Arthur Bulger, senior member of the firm, in the L.D. and M. flurry of last Wednesday and Thursday. Bulger, it is said by those who know his affairs best, had speculated heavily in L.D. and M., playing for a rise. On the eve of the fluky directors' meeting of last Wednesday--which, it will be remembered, adjourned without action only to reconvene after market hours and declare a dividend--Bulger began through his brokers to unload. It is believed that he was acting upon some advance inside information of the directors' action. He was sold clean out of this stock when the market closed Wednesday afternoon. Had he held on, the firm would doubtless have been able to survive the Mongolia crash, for L.D. and M., following the unexpected action of the directors in declaring a dividend, jumped on Thursday from 50 to the neighborhood of 75. The failure will involve no other firms, it is thought.

  As the curve of Sandy Hook blotted from sight the last, low glimpse ofthe skyscrapers which point Manhattan, Blake touched Annette's arm. Sheturned from her reveries; the distance faded from her eyes.

  "It's the end of a life for you--that," he said. "We don't see New Yorkagain for two years. We're going back over the girlhood you neverhad--you're going to dance and motor and walk--yes and coquette,too--or as much as you care to with me as a husband. For two years,you're just going to play!"

  Then, noticing the expression of the dog who beholds his master withwhich her sapphirine eyes regarded him, he dropped his hand on hers.

  "But most of all, dearest," he added, "you're going to do what you wantto do! Not what I or any one else commands, but just as your own sweetwill dictates--Light of me!"