Complete Works of Howard Pyle

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by Howard Pyle


  Entering that bare and half-furnished apartment which he designated his office and which opened into his bedroom beyond, he discovered a stranger to be seated in a chair beside the desk, as though awaiting his coming. As our hero entered, this stranger arose with a profound salutation, and presented to our hero’s view a person singularly tall and slender, a face of coppery yellow, straight hair, a hooked beak of a nose, and eyes of piercing blackness. He was clad with the utmost care in clothes of the latest cut of fashion. His linen was of immaculate whiteness, and the plaited frill of his shirt front exhibited the nicest and most elaborate laundry-work imaginable. In short, his costume was that of the most exquisite dandy. His countenance — the singularity of its appearance enhanced by a pair of gold ear-rings in his ears — was that of a remote foreigner of unknown nationality.

  Without giving our lawyer time for further observation, the stranger, in the most excellent and well-chosen English, and with hardly a touch of foreign accent, addressed him as follows: —

  “You behold,” said he, “one who has come to you offering himself as a client, whom, though you may find his business to be of a singular nature, you will also find to be extremely inclined to profit you well in the relations which he seeks to establish with you.”

  “Sir,” replied Griscombe, with no little importance of tone, “you come to me at a time of extreme inconveniency. It is now after half-past seven, and at nine o’clock I may be obliged to undertake a commission of importance beyond anything of which you can perhaps conceive. A journey of the utmost tragic importance lies before me; and this box, which you behold in my hands, belongs to a wealthy and liberal client, whose behests must in no wise be denied.”

  “I am convinced,” replied the stranger, in accents of the most extreme and deferential courtesy, “that your time must indeed be greatly in demand if you cannot afford to bestow a little of it upon myself. I am in a position to be perfectly well able to indulge every whim that seizes me; and just now it is my whim to become your client, and to purchase of you a considerable portion of your valuable time.”

  At these words it began to occur to Griscombe that the eccentric being before him was, perhaps, better worth his attention than he had at first supposed. Accordingly, excusing himself for a moment, upon the plea that he had to dispose of his present charge, he entered his bedroom, and deposited the jewel-casket where he had before hidden it, — under his bed, and in the remotest corner of the room. Having thus left it in safety, he returned again to the office, where his second client was patiently awaiting his return.

  So soon as Griscombe had composed himself to listen, the other resumed his discourse as follows: “I am,” said he, “as I before told you, perfectly well able to pay for every whim that seizes me. That I may convince you of this, I herewith offer you a fee which I feel well assured is equal to any you may have received in your life before. Behold, in this bag are a hundred pieces of gold, valued at twenty dollars each; and, if that is not sufficient, I am fully prepared to increase your fee to any reasonable extent.”

  At these words Griscombe knew not whether his ears deceived him nor whether he or this new-found client were mad or sane. Nor could he at all accredit the truth of what he heard, until the stranger, opening the mouth of the bag, poured forth upon the table a great heap of jingling gold money. “You will,” resumed his new-found client, with perfect composedness of manner, “be, no doubt, considerably surprised to learn the nature of the duty which I shall call upon you to perform. It is that you play me a game of jack-straws.”

  Here he allowed for a moment or two of pause, and then continued: “You have doubtless observed that I am a foreigner. By way of explanation of this whim of mine, I may inform you that I am an East Indian of considerable importance in my own country. Being extravagantly wealthy and possessing a prodigious amount of unoccupied time, I have passed a great part of it in practising and playing the game to which I now invite you to participate; and by and by I became so inordinately fond of the pastime that I now find it impossible entirely to cease indulging in it. In this country I find every one either to be too busily engaged to take part in it, or too lacking in the patience to pursue it to a consummation. Learning that you are favored with ample leisure to pursue your every whim, I was encouraged to visit you, and to invite you to participate with me in my recreation. Since beholding you, I am consumed with such an appetite to test your skill that I am entirely willing to pay very handsomely for the privilege of indulging myself. See, I have brought with me the implements of my favorite pastime.”

  THE SOMEWHAT PECULIAR PASTIME OF OUR HERO’S SECOND CLIENT

  As he concluded, the stranger drew forth from a pocket in his coat a cylindrical box of ebony, carved into the most exquisite Oriental design. Unscrewing the lid of this receptacle, and tilting downward the box itself, he spilled out upon the table a set of ivory jack-straws of so marvellous a sort that Griscombe, in his wildest imaginings, could never have believed possible. Some of the straws were plain sticks of polished ivory: others were ornamented with heads or figures of wrought gold set with precious stones. Each of them was different from the other, — this a gryphon, that a serpent with distended crest, this a yawning tiger with diamond eyes, that an idol’s head with a ruby tongue thrust from its gaping jaws.

  The stranger either did not observe or did not choose to remark upon the extreme surprise that possessed his attorney. Offering his opponent a golden hook with a pearl handle, he invited him to open the game, into which he himself entered with every appearance of the most entire satisfaction and enjoyment.

  In spite of his not infrequent indulgences, Griscombe was favored with extreme steadiness of nerve; and, though a casual acquaintance would never have accredited him with it, he possessed at once patience and perseverance to an extraordinary degree. But neither patience nor perseverance or steadiness of nerve was any match for the infinite skill and dexterity with which the stranger played his game. Griscombe was but a child in his hands, and the jack-straw player dallied with him as a cat dallies with a mouse. At the end of each round the stranger politely assured his opponent that he played naturally a very excellent game, and that in time and by practice he might eventually hope to become no inconsiderable adept at the sport. But these courteous expressions only declared to Griscombe how inadequate was his play, and at each repetition merely served to incite him to fresh endeavors.

  At the end of an hour the stranger declared his appetite for the amusement to be satisfied; and, gathering up his jack-straws and replacing them in the ebony box, he thanked our hero most courteously for the entertainment he had offered him. Thereupon, resuming his cloak and hat which he had laid aside at the beginning of the game, he delivered a bow of the profoundest depth, and departed without another word, leaving the pile of gold pieces upon the table behind him, as though they were not worth any further attention.

  Nor was it until he had fairly gone that Griscombe — with a shock that set every nerve tingling — recalled his precious chest and that inestimable treasure that had been deposited in his care, and which for all this time had been left unprotected and almost unthought of. At the recollection of this his heart seemed to stand still within him, and his ears began to hum and buzz, and a cold sweat stood out upon every pore of his body. For upon the instant it occurred to him that maybe this polite stranger with his marvellous jack-straws was merely a rook seeking to divert his attention while a confederate carried away the treasure box from the room beyond. With weak and trembling joints, and yet with hurried steps, he ran into the next room, and, falling upon his knees, gazed under the bed; and it was with a feeling of relief that well-nigh burst his heart that he discovered the object of his solicitude reposing exactly where he had placed it.

  With a heart as light as a feather and with a rebound of excessive joy and delight at the thought of the additional fee of a thousand dollars he had just earned with such extreme ease and in so extraordinary a manner, he set himself in haste to dress for
the journey that lay before him, finding it exceedingly difficult, in the lightness of heart that now possessed him, to direct a proper sobriety of attention to the possibly tragic fate that had maybe befallen his first unfortunate client since he had beheld him the night before.

  With this concludes the second stage of our narrative, excepting to add that, when nine o’clock came, bringing no signs of his client, Griscombe crossed the ferry to Paulus Hook, where he found the post-chaise awaiting his arrival, exactly as his client had foretold. Entering this vehicle, our young lawyer immediately began that journey which he pursued with all diligence, stopping neither day nor night till he had arrived at his destination.

  HERE FOLLOWS THE THIRD CHAPTER

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Horrific EPISODE in the COURSE of which the LAWYER obtained a Third CLIENT.

  OUR HERO ARRIVED at Bordentown early upon a clear and frosty winter morning with entire safety and success, and with no greater adventures befalling him than usually occur to the traveller in a private conveyance upon so considerable a journey. Nor had he the least difficulty in discovering Mr. Michael Desmond’s address, that gentleman dwelling in one of the most palatial of those abodes that lend such an air of aristocratic distinction to the town.

  Immediately, in reply to his request to see the master of the house, he was shown into the reception-room, where Mr. Desmond presently appeared, presenting to his astonished sight a person so exactly and minutely resembling his brother that, had Griscombe not known it to be otherwise, he would have believed them to have been the same individual.

  The remarkable resemblance, however, did not extend deeper than the lineaments of the features; for, whereas the countenance of the first Mr. Desmond had been overclouded by an expression of the most sombre melancholy and the most overwhelming anxiety, the face of this gentleman beamed with courteous hospitality and generous welcome.

  He still held in his hand the card which Griscombe had sent in to him by the servant; and, as he advanced with a smile of extreme cordiality illuminating his face, he cried, “I cannot, my dear Mr. Griscombe, be too much delighted that you have favored me with so early a call, since it will give me the pleasure of having you to breakfast and of introducing you to my daughter. I see from what you have written me upon your card that you come upon important business from my brother; but, before satisfying my curiosity upon that point, I shall insist that you first appease the craving of what must be a very hearty appetite after so long a journey.”

  Nor would he accept any refusal of his invitation, but, with polite determination, put aside every effort that Griscombe made to explain the pressing and tragic nature of his mission. “Nay,” he cried, as Griscombe continued to urge upon him the importance of his affair, “I insist that you say no more at present. I am perfectly well aware with what an extreme degree of exaggeration a young lawyer regards a commission that may very easily wait for breakfast. I am determined that you first satisfy your appetite, and then your sense of duty.”

  And so, protesting and insisting, he led our reluctant hero by the hand until he at last introduced him into a spacious and sunlit dining-room, rendered additionally cheerful by a large fire of cedar logs that crackled in the marble fireplace. Here a table spread with snowy napery and sparkling with crystal and silver was prepared for an ample breakfast; and, as they entered, the slender and graceful figure of a young lady, clad entirely in white, arose from where she sat at the head of the board behind the tea-urn. In response to her father’s introduction, she replied to our young gentleman’s profound bow with all the ease and dignity of deportment imaginable.

  At that time Miss Arabella Desmond was one of the most perfect beauties in the United States. With a figure of rounded yet slender contour, she bore herself with an ease and grace of deportment that at once charmed and delighted the beholder. Her features presented the most exquisite delicacy of outline, and the rich abundance of her raven tresses matched in their color the dark and lustrous eyes, whose liquid brilliancy was ineffably enhanced by the ivory delicacy of her complexion. Add, if you please, to those graces of person a wit at once subtle and alert and an address as amiable as it was entertaining, and you shall possess an image — imperfect, to be sure — of that famous beauty whose hermit-like seclusion from the world and whose mysterious personality had now for above two years been a matter of wonder and of speculation to the elegant society of Bordentown, that would gladly have received so admirable an addition into its fold.

  Griscombe, as may be supposed, had all this while maintained a close hold upon his precious treasure-casket. He had placed it beneath his chair as he took his seat at the table; and what with the consciousness thereof, and of the interview with his host concerning his brother’s probable fate, he discovered himself to be the victim of a singular embarrassment, and strangely at a loss for words wherewith to commend his wit to the easy and affable beauty. It was in vain that he endeavored to display the aptness of dialogue which he was entirely conscious he possessed. He was aware only of an unwonted constraint; and, accordingly, it was with a singular commixture of relief and regret that, at the invitation of Mr. Desmond, he at last quitted the table, and followed his host toward the study, mentally declaring to himself that, should the opportunity again offer, Miss Desmond should discover him to be not so lacking in brilliancy as she must have supposed from their first interview. Nor was it until he found himself in the study, face to face with the father, the strong box of treasure upon the table between them, that he was able to fetch himself entirely back to the seriousness and complexity of the business which rested upon him. Beginning at the beginning, however, he presently found that he was recovering entire command of himself, and presently, in clear and lucid phrases, was reciting every circumstance that had befallen him from the time of his absurd and preposterous masquerade at the supper of the Bluebird Club to the moment when his present host had met him in the reception-room.

  As he progressed in his discourse, a dark and sombre shadow of extraordinary gloom gathered deeper and deeper upon the hitherto smiling countenance of Mr. Desmond. By little and little the color left his cheek; and an expression of the profoundest anxiety overspread his face, causing him to resemble to a still more extraordinary degree his unfortunate brother. As our young lawyer concluded his narrative, the other arose, and began walking up and down the narrow spaces of the room, betraying every appearance of an infinite perturbation of spirit, suppressed by an iron will and an implacable determination.

  “My dear Mr. Griscombe,” he said at last, stopping in front of the fireplace, “I shall not attempt to conceal from you my apprehensions regarding the fate of my unfortunate brother. I fear that he is no more, and that a tragic fate has overtaken him. That, however, is now past and gone. It is irremediable, and the question that at present lies upon us is that of my own danger. Tell me, do you suppose it likely that the agents who pursued my brother have any knowledge of my being established in this place?”

  “That I cannot tell you,” said Griscombe, “unless, indeed, the mysterious jack-straw player who penetrated into my office may have been in search of such information. I confess I cannot account in any other way for his coming to me.”

  “It may be so,” said Mr. Desmond, thoughtfully. “At any rate, I shall immediately quit this place where I now live, and shall seek for an asylum in some still more retired and undiscoverable locality. Meantime let us examine into the safety of the treasure which you have so faithfully transported thither.”

  And, as he concluded his speech, he arose, and crossing the room to a handsome mahogany escritoire, and opening a secret drawer therein, brought thence a small steel key, the fellow to that with which his unfortunate brother had once before opened the casket in Griscombe’s presence. This he applied to the lock, gave it a turn, and threw back the lid.

  The piercing and terrible shriek which instantly succeeded the action struck through Griscombe’s brain like a dagger. The next moment he beheld his host stagger
back, clutching at the empty air, and at last fall into a dishevelled heap into the arm-chair behind him, where he lay white and shrunken together as though shrivelled up to one-half his former size and bulk by a vision that had just blasted his sight.

  So unexpected was this conclusion, and so terrifying, that Griscombe sat as though stupefied. At last he arose, hardly conscious of what he was doing, and the next moment found himself gazing down into the interior depths of the open casket, like one in a dream.

  There before him he beheld a spectacle the most dreadful that ever he had beheld. His sight appeared to him to swim as though through a transparent fluid, his brain expanded with a fantastic volatility, and his soul fluttered, as it were, upon his lips. For there before him lay, entirely surrounded by lamb’s wool as white as snow, a still, calm face, as transparent as wax, — the immobile face of the first Mr. Desmond, now infinitely terrible in its image of eternal sleep. As though in a malign mockery, the now worthless jewels — about which the possessor had once been so infinitely concerned — had been poured out carelessly upon the motionless lineaments. A precious diamond, like a tear, reposed upon the transparent cheek, and a ruby of inestimable value clung to the pallid and sphinx-like lips. Across the forehead was stretched a fillet of linen; and upon it were inscribed in letters as black as ink the two ominous words —

  How long Griscombe stood like one entranced, gazing at the dreadful spectacle before him, he could never tell; but, when at last he turned, it was to behold that Mr. Desmond had arisen from his seat, and that he was now clutching to the mantel-shelf as he stood leaning against it, his body heaving and his whole frame convulsed with the vehemence of the passion that racked every joint and bone. “God, man!” he cried at last in a hoarse and raucous voice, and without turning his face: “shut the box lid!” — and Griscombe obeyed with stiff and nerveless fingers that strangely disregarded the commands of his will.

 

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