V
"SHE WORE PURPLE"
The library again! but how changed! Evening light now instead of blazingsunshine; and evening light so shaded that the corners seemed far andthe many articles of furniture, cumbering the spaces between, larger forthe shadows in which they stood hidden. Perhaps the man who sat there incompany with the judge regretted this. Perhaps, he would have preferredto see more perfectly that portion of the room where Bela had taken hisstand and finally fallen. It would have been interesting to note whetherthe screen had been replaced before the mysterious door which this mostdevoted of servants had protected to his last gasp. Curiosity isadmissible, even in a man, when the cause is really great.
But from the place where he sat there was no getting any possible viewof that part of the wall or of anything connected with it; and so, withevery appearance of satisfaction at being allowed in the room at all,Sergeant Doolittle from Headquarters, drank the judge's wine andlistened for the judge's commands.
These were slow in coming, and they were unexpected when they came.
"Sergeant, I have lost a faithful servant under circumstances which havecalled an unfortunate attention to my house. I should like to have thisplace guarded--carefully guarded, you understand--from any and allintrusion till I can look about me and secure protection of my own. MayI rely upon the police to do this, beginning to-night at an early hour?There are loiterers already at the corner and in front of the two gates.I am not accustomed to these attentions, and ask to have my fencecleared."
"Two men are already detailed for the job, your honour. I heard theorder given just as I left Headquarters."
The judge showed small satisfaction. Indeed, in his silence there wasthe hint of something like displeasure. This surprised SergeantDoolittle and led him to attempt to read its cause in his host'scountenance. But the shade of the lamp intervened too completely, and hehad to be content to wait till the judge chose to speak, which hepresently did, though not in the exact tones the Sergeant expected.
"Two men! Couldn't I have three? One for each gate and one to patrol thefence separating these grounds from the adjoining lot?"
The sergeant hesitated; he felt an emotion of wonder--a sense ofsomething more nearly approaching the uncanny than was usual to hismatter-of-fact mind. He had heard, often enough, what store the judgeset on his privacy and of the extraordinary measures he had taken toinsure it, but that a man, even if he aped the hermit, should considerthree men necessary to hold the public away from a two hundred and fiftyfoot lot argued apprehensions of a character verging on the ridiculous.But he refrained from expressing his surprise and replied, after aminute of thought:
"If two men are not enough to ensure you a quiet sleep, you shall havethree or four or even more, Judge Ostrander. Do you want one of them tostay inside? That might do the business better than a dozen out."
"No. While Bela lies above ground, we want no third here. When he isburied, I may call upon you for a special to watch my room door. Butit's of outside protection we're talking now. Only, who is to protect meagainst your men?"
"What do you mean by that, your honour?"
"They are human, are they not? They have instincts of curiosity like therest of us. How can I be made sure that they won't yield to thetemptation of their position and climb the fences they are detailed toguard?"
"And would this be so fatal to your peace, judge?" A smile tempered thesuggestion.
"It would be a breach of trust which would greatly disturb me. I wantnobody on my grounds, nobody at all. Has not my long life of solitudewithin these walls sufficiently proved this? I want to feel that thesemen of yours would no more climb my fence than they would burst into myhouse without a warrant."
"Judge, I will be one of the men. You can trust me."
"Thank you, sergeant; I appreciate the favour. I shall rest now asquietly as any man can who has met with a great loss. The coroner'sinquiry has decided that the injuries which Bela received in the streetwere of a fatal character and would have killed him within an hour, evenif he had not exhausted his strength in the effort he made to return tohis home and die in my presence. But I shall always suffer from regretthat I was not in a condition to receive his last sigh. He was a man ina thousand. One seldom sees his like among white or black."
"He was a very powerfully built man. It took a sixty horse-power racingmachine, going at a high rate of speed, to kill him."
A spasm of grief or unavailing regret crossed the judge's face as hishead sank back again against the high back of his chair.
"Enough," said he; "tread softly when you go by the sofa on which helies. Will you fill your glass again, sergeant?"
The sergeant declined.
"Not if my watch is to be effective to-night," he smiled, and rose todepart.
The judge, grown suddenly thoughtful, rapped with his finger-tips on thetable-edge. He had not yet risen to show his visitor out.
"I should like to ask a question," he finally observed, motioning theother to re-seat himself. "You were not at the inquiry this afternoon,and may not know that just as Bela and the crowd about him turned thiscorner, they ran into a woman leading a small child, who stopped thewhole throng in order to address him. No one heard what she said; and noone could give any information as to who she was or in what directionshe vanished. But I saw that woman myself, earlier. She was in thishouse. She was in this room. She came as far as that open space justinside the doorway. I can describe her, and will, if you will consent tolook for her. It is to be a money transaction, sergeant, and if she isfound and no stir made and no talk started among the Force, I will payall that you think it right to demand."
"Let me hear her description, your honour." The judge, who had withdrawninto the shadow, considered for a moment, then said:
"I cannot describe her features, for she was heavily veiled; neither canI describe her figure except to say that she is tall and slender. Buther dress I remember to the last detail, though I am not usually soobservant. She wore purple; not an old woman's purple, but a soft shadewhich did not take from her youth. There was something floating roundher shoulders of the same colour, and on her arms were long gloves suchas you see our young ladies wear. The child did not seem to belong toher, though she held her tightly by the hand. I mean by that, that itsclothes were of a coarser material than hers and perhaps were a littlesoiled. If the child wore a hat, I do not remember it. In age itappeared to be about six--or that was the impression I receivedbefore--"
The sergeant, who had been watching the speaker very closely, leanedforward with a hasty, inquiring glance expressive of something likeconsternation. Was the judge falling again into unconsciousness? Was hedestined to witness in this solitary meeting a return of the phenomenonwhich had so startled the intruding populace that morning?
No, or if he had been witness to something of the kind, it was for amoment only; for the eyes which had gone blank had turned his way again,and only a disconnected expression which fell from the judge's lips,showed that his mind had been wandering.
"It's not the same but another one; that's all."
Inconsequent words, but the sergeant meant to remember them, for withtheir utterance, a change passed over the judge; and his manner, whichhad been constrained and hurried during his attempted description,became at once more natural, and therefore more courteous.
"Do you think you can find her with such insufficient data? A womandressed in purple, leading a little child without any hat?"
"Judge, I not only feel sure that I can find her, but I think she isfound already. Do you remember the old tavern on the Rushville road? Ibelieve they call it an inn now, or some such fancy name."
The judge sat quiet, but the sergeant who dared not peer too closely,noticed a sudden constriction in the fingers of the hand with which hishost fingered a paper-cutter lying on the table between them.
"The one where--"
"I respect your hesitation, judge. Yes, the one run by the man yousentenced--"
A gesture had
stopped him. He waited respectfully for the judge's nextwords.
They came quickly and with stern and solemn emphasis.
"For a hideous and wholly unprovoked crime. Why do you mention itand--and his tavern?"
"Because of something I have lately heard in its connection. You knowthat the old house has been all made over since that time and run as aplace of resort for automobilists in search of light refreshments. Theproprietor's name is Yardley. We have nothing against him; the place ishighly respectable. But it harbours a boarder, a permanent one, Ibelieve, who has occasioned no little comment. No one has ever seen herface; unless it is the landlord's wife. She has all her meals served inher room, and when she goes out she wears the purple dress and purpleveil you've been talking about. Perhaps she's your visitor of to-day.Hadn't I better find out?"
"Has she a child? Is she a mother?"
"I haven't heard of any child, but Mrs. Yardley has seven."
The judge's hand withdrew from the table and for an instant the room wasso quiet that you could hear some far-off clock ticking out the minutes.Then Judge Ostrander rose and in a peremptory tone said:
"To-morrow. After you hear from me again. Make no move to-night. Let mefeel that all your energies are devoted to securing my privacy."
The sergeant, who had sprung to his feet at the same instant as thejudge, cast a last look about him, curiosity burning in his heart and asort of desperate desire to get all he could out of his presentopportunity. For he felt absolutely sure that he would never be allowedto enter this room again.
But the arrangement of light was such as to hold in shadow all but thecentral portion of the room; and this central portion held nothing outof the common--nothing to explain the mysteries of the dwelling or theapprehensions of its suspicious owner. With a sigh, the sergeant droppedhis eyes from the walls he could barely distinguish, and following JudgeOstrander's lead, passed with him under the torn folds of the curtainand through the narrow vestibule whose door was made of iron, into theroom, where, in a stronger blaze of light than they had left, lay thebody of the dead negro awaiting the last rites.
Would the judge pass this body, or turn away from it towards a doorleading front? The sergeant had come in at the rear, but he greatlydesired to go out front, as this would give him so much additionalknowledge of the house. Unexpectedly to himself, the judge's intentionswere in the direction of his own wishes. He was led front; and, enteringan old-fashioned hall dimly lighted, passed a staircase and two closeddoors, both of which gave him the impression of having been shut upon apast it had pleasured no one to revive in many years.
Beyond them was the great front door of Colonial style and workmanship,a fine specimen once, but greatly disfigured now by the bolts and barswhich had been added to it in satisfaction of the judge's ideas ofsecurity.
Many years had passed since Judge Ostrander had played the host; but hehad not lost a sense of its obligations. It was for him to shoot thebolts and lift the bars; but he went about it so clumsily and with suchevident aversion to the task, that the sergeant instinctively sprang tohelp him.
"I shall miss Bela at every turn," remarked the judge, turning with asad smile as he finally pulled the door open. "This is an unaccustomedeffort for me. Excuse my awkwardness."
Something in his attitude, something in the way he lifted his hand topush back a fallen lock from his forehead, impressed itself upon thesergeant's mind so vividly that he always remembered the judge as heappeared to him at that minute. Certainly there were but few men likehim in the country, and none in his own town. Of a commandingpersonality by reason of his height, his features were of a cast toexpress his mental attributes and enforce attention, and the incongruitybetween his dominating figure and the apprehensions which he displayedin these multiplied and extraordinary arrangements for personal securitywas forcible enough to arouse any man's interest.
The sergeant was so occupied by the mystery of the man and the mysteryof the house that they had passed the first gate (which the judge hadunlocked without much difficulty) before he realised that there stillremained something of interest for him to see and to talk about later.The two dark openings on either side, raised questions which the mostunimaginative mind would feel glad to hear explained. Ere the secondgate swung open and he found himself again in the street, he had builtup more than one theory in explanation of this freak of parallel fenceswith the strip of gloom between.
Would he have felt the suggestion of the spot still more deeply, had itbeen given him to see the anxious and hesitating figure which,immediately upon his departure entered this dark maze, and with feelinghands and cautious step, wound its way from corner to corner--nowstopping abruptly to listen, now shrinking from some imaginarypresence--a shadow among shadows--till it stood again between the gatesfrom which it had started.
Possibly; even the hardiest of men respond to the unusual, and provethemselves not ungifted with imagination when brought face to face withthat for which their experience furnishes no precedent.
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