Dark Hollow

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by Anna Katharine Green


  XXII

  BEFORE THE GATES

  Had she not caught the words themselves she would have recognised theirimport from the blighting effect they produced upon the persons groupedwithin hearing.

  Schooled as most of them were to face with minds secure and tempersquite unruffled the countless surprises of a court room, they paled atthe insinuation conveyed in these two sentences, and with scarcely theinterchange of glance or word, drew aside in a silence which no manseemed inclined to break.

  As for the people still huddled in the doorway, they rushed awayhelter-skelter into the street, there to proclaim the judge's conditionand its probable cause;--an event which to many quite eclipsed ininterest the more ordinary one which had just released to freedom a manseemingly doomed.

  Few persons were now left in the great room, and Deborah, embarrassed tofind that she was the only woman present, was on the point of escapingfrom her corner when she perceived a movement take place in the rigidform from which she had not yet withdrawn her eyes, and, regarding JudgeOstrander more attentively, she caught the gleam of his suspicious eyeas it glanced this way and that to see if his lapse of consciousness hadbeen noticed by those about him.

  Would the man still in possession of the paper whose contents hadbrought about this attack understand these evidences of apprehension?Yes; and what is more, he seems to take such means as offers to hidefrom the judge all knowledge of the fact that any other eyes than hisown have read these invidious words. With unexpected address, he waitsfor the judge to turn his head aside when with a quick and dextrousmovement he so launches the paper from his hand that it falls softly andwithout flurry within an inch of the judicial seat. Then he goes back tohis papers.

  This suggestion, at once so marked and so delicate, did not fail of itseffect upon those about. Wherever the judge looked he saw abstractedfaces and busy hands, and, taking heart at not finding himself watched,he started to rise. Then memory came,--blasting, overwhelming memory ofthe letter he had been reading; and, rousing with a start, he lookeddown at his hand, then at the floor before him, and, seeing the letterlying there, picked it up with a secret, side-long glance to right andleft, which sank deep into the heart of the still watchful Deborah.

  If those about him saw, they made no motion. Not an eye looked round andnot a head turned as he straightened himself and proceeded to leave theroom. Only Deborah noted how his steps faltered and how little he was tobe trusted to find his way unguided to the door. It lay to the right andhe was going left. Now he stumbles--Isn't there any one to--Yes, she isnot the sole one on watch. The same man who had read aloud the note andthen dropped it within his reach, had stepped after him, and kindly, ifartfully, turned him towards the proper place of exit. As the twodisappear, Deborah wakes from her trance, and, finding herself aloneamong the seats, hurries to quit her corner and leave the building.

  The glare--the noise of the square, as she dashes down into it seems forthe moment unendurable. The pushing, panting mass of men and women ofwhich she has now become a part, closes about her, and for the momentshe can see nothing but faces,--faces with working mouths and blazingeyes,--a medley of antagonistic expression, all directed againstherself;--or so she felt in the heat of her self-consciousness. Butafter the first recoil she knew that no such universal recognition couldbe hers; that she was merely a new and inconsiderable atom caught in awave of feeling which engulfed all it met; that this mob was not raisedfrom the stones to overwhelm her but HIM, and that if she flew, itshould be to his aid, and not to save herself. But how was she to reachhim? He would not come out by the main entrance; that she knew. Wherelook for him, then? Suddenly she remembered; and using some of herstrength of which she had good measure, and more of that address towhich I have already alluded, she began to worm herself along throughthis astounding collection of people much too large already for theordinary force of police to handle, to that corner of the building wherea small door opened upon a rear street. She remembered it from those olddays when she had once entered this courthouse as a witness.

  But alas, others knew it also, and thick as the crowd was in front, itwas even thicker here, and far more tumultuous. Word had gone about thatthe father of Oliver Ostrander had been given his lesson at last, andthe curiosity of the populace had risen to fever-heat in their anxietyto see how the proud Ostrander would bear himself in his precipitatedownfall. They had crowded there to see and they would see. Were he toshirk the ordeal! Were he to wait for the square to be cleared--But theyknew him too well to fear this. He will come--nay, he is coming now--andcoming alone! No other figure looms so grandly in a doorway, nor isthere any other face in Shelby whose pallor could strike so coldly tothe heart, or rouse such conflicting emotions.

  He was evidently not prepared to see his path quite so heavily markedout for him by the gaping throng; but after one look, he assumed someshow of his old commanding presence and advanced bravely down the steps,awing some and silencing all, until he had reached his carriage step andthe protection of the officers on guard.

  Then a hoot rose from some far-off quarter of the square, and he turnedshort about and the people saw his face. Despair had seized it, and ifany one there desired vengeance, he had it. The knell of active life hadbeen rung for this man. He would never remount the courthouse steps, orface again a respectful jury.

  As for Deborah, she had shrunk out of sight at his approach, but as soonas he had ridden off, she looked eagerly for a taxicab to carry her inhis wake. She could not let him ride that mile alone. She was stillfearful for him, though the mass of people about her was rapidlydissolving away, and the streets growing clear.

  But an apprehension still greater, because more personal, seized herwhen she found herself behind him on the long road. Several minutes hadbeen lost in obtaining a taxicab and she feared that she would be unableto overtake him before he reached his own gates. This would be tosubject Reuther to a shock which the poor child had little strength tomeet. She could not escape the truth long. Soon, very soon she wouldhave to be told that the man who stood so high in her esteem was nowregarded as a common criminal. But she must be prepared for the awfulnews. She must be within reach of her mother's arms when the blow felldestroying her past as well as her future.

  Were minutes really so long--the house really so far away? Deborah gazeseagerly forward. There is very little traffic in the streets to-day andthe road ahead looks clear--too clear, she cannot even see the dustraised by the judge's rapidly disappearing carriage. Can he have arrivedhome already? No, or the carriage would be coming back, and not avehicle is in view.

  Her anxiety increases. She has reached the road debouching towards thebridge--has crossed it--is drawing near--nearer--when, what is this?Men--women--coming from the right, coming from the left, running out ofhouses, flocking from every side street, filling up the road! A lessermob than that from which she had just escaped, but still, a mob, and allmaking for one point--the judge's house! And he? She can see hiscarriage now. Held up for a moment by the crowd, it has broken through,and is rolling quickly towards Ostrander Lane. But the mob is following,and she is yet far behind.

  Shouting to the chauffeur to hasten, the insistent honk! honk! of thecab adds its raucous note to the turmoil. They have dashed through onegroup;--they are dashing through another;--naught can withstand anon-rushing automobile. She catches glimpses of raised arms threateningretaliation; of eager, stolid, uncertain and furious faces--and herbreath held back during that one instant of wild passage rushespantingly forth again. Ostrander Lane is within sight. If only they canreach it!--if only they can cross it! But they cannot without sowingdeath in their track. No scattered groups here, the mob fills thecorner. It is packed close as a wall. Brought up against it, the motornecessarily comes to a stand-still.

  Balked? No, not yet. Opening the door, Deborah leaps to the ground andin one instant finds herself but a mote in this seethe of humanity. Invain her efforts, she cannot move arm or limb. The gate is but a fewpaces off, but all hope of reaching it is f
utile. She can only holdherself still and listen as all around are listening. But to what? Tonothing. It is expectation which holds them all silent. She will have towait until the crowd sways apart, allowing her to--Ah, there, some headsare moving now! She catches one glimpse ahead of her, and sees--Whatdoes she see? The noble but shrunk figure of the judge drawn up beforehis gate. His lips are moving, but no sound issues from them; and whilethose about are waiting for his words, they peer, with an insolencebarely dashed by awe, at his white head and his high fence and now atthe gate swerving gently inward under the hand of some one whose figureis invisible.

  But no words coming, a change passes like a stroke of lightning over thesurging mass. Some one shouts out COWARD! another, TRAITOR! and thelifted head falls, the moving lips cease from their efforts and in placeof the great personality which filled their eyes a moment before, theysee a man entrapped, waking to the horror of a sudden death in life forwhich no visions of the day, no dreams of the night, had been able toprepare him.

  It was a sight to waken pity not derision. But these people had gatheredhere in a bitter mood and their rancour had but scented the prey. Callsof "Oliver!" and such threats as "You saved him at a poor man's expense,but we'll have him yet, we'll have him yet!" began to rise about him;followed by endless repetitions of the name from near and far: "Oliver!Oliver!"

  Oliver! His own lips seemed to re-echo the word. Then like a lion baitedbeyond his patience the judge lifted his head and faced them all with afiery intensity which for the moment made him a terrible figure tocontemplate.

  "Let no one utter that name to me here!" shot from his lips in tones ofunspeakable menace and power. "Spare me that name, or the curse of myruined life be upon you. I can bear no more to-day."

  Thrilled by his aspect, cowering under his denunciation, emphasised asit was by a terrifying gesture, the people, pressing closest about him,drew back and left the passage open to the gate. He took it with abound, and would have entered but that from the outskirts of the crowdwhere his voice had not reached, the cry arose again of "Oliver! Oliver!The sons of the rich go free, but ours have to hang!"

  At which he turned his head about, gave them one stare and fell backagainst the door. It yielded and a woman's arms received him. The gentleReuther in that hour of dire extremity, showed herself stronger than hermother who had fallen in a faint amid the crowd.

 

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