At the Mercy of Tiberius

by Augusta J. Evans

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  Is it true that in abstract valuation, "the bird in hand, is worth twoin the bush?"

  We stand beneath a loaded apricot tree, and would give all the bushelwithin reach, for one crimson satin globe pendent on the extreme tip ofthe most inaccessible bough; and the largest, luscious, richest coloredorange always glows defiantly, high up, close to the body of the tree,hedged away from our eager grasp by its impenetrable chevaux de friseof bristling thorns. The wonderful water lily we covet is smiling onits green cushion of leaves just beyond the danger line, where deathlurks; the rhododendron flame that burned brightest amid surroundingfloral fires, and lured us, springs from the crevice of some beetlingprecipice, waving a challenge over fatal chasms that bar possession;and with fretful dissatisfaction we repine, because the colors of thefeathered captives in our gilt cages are so dull, so faded incomparison with their brothers, flashing wings of scarlet, and breastsof vivid blue high in the sunlight of God's free air.

  The gold and silver dust that powder velvet butterflies, tarnish at atouch, stain the fingers that clutch them; and the dewy bloom on purpleand amber grape clusters, never survives the handling of the vintager.

  Leaning back in the revolving chair in front of his office desk, Mr.Dunbar slowly tore into strips a number of notes and letters, andsuffered the fragments to fall into a waste basket somewhat faded, yetmuch too elegant to harmonize with its surroundings.

  When Leo quilted the lining of ruby silk and knotted the ribbons thattied it to the wicker lace work, love pelted her cheek with roses, andhappy hope sang so loud in her ear, that she could not have divined thecruel fact that she was preparing the dainty coffin, destined toreceive the mutilated remains of a betrothal, that typified supremeearthly happiness to her. One by one dropped the shreds of Leo's lastmessage from Palermo, like torn crumpled petals of a once beloved andsacred flower; and the faint, delicate perfume that clung to thefragments, was one which Mr. Dunbar recognized as characteristic of thelibrary at the "Lilacs". The contents of the farewell note had in nodegree surprised him; for though fully persuaded that her heart wasirrevocably pledged to the past, he was equally sure that only theardor he scorned to feign, would avail to melt the wall of ice heroutraged pride had built between them. There were times when hedeplored bitterly the loss of her companionship; at others he exultedin the consciousness of perfect freedom to indulge an overmasteringlove, amenable to no chastisement by violated loyalty. He hadscrupulously endeavored, by careful employment of forms of deference,to spare his betrothed as far as possible, the stinging humiliation andanguish which every woman suffers, when the man whom she loves showsher that she fills only a subordinate and insignificant place in hisaffection; and yet, while her nobler nature commanded his homage, andthe brilliancy of the alliance seems to jeer at his blind fatuity, hisheart throbbed and yearned with an intolerable longing for one uponwhom the world had set the seal of an ineradicable disgrace.

  Nature and education had made him a coldly calculating man, jealous ofhis honor, but immersed in schemes for his own aggrandizement, andsuperbly invulnerable to the blandishments of sentimentality; hence hisamazement, when the deep and engrossing love of his life burned awaythat selfishness which was citadel of his affections. Because hisinfatuation had cost him so much, that was alluring alike to vanity,pride, and ambition, a fierce hunger for revenge possessed him; andherein differs the nature of the love of men and women; the one cansacrifice itself for the happiness of the beloved; the other willcrucify its darling to appease jealous pangs in view of happiness itcan neither inspire nor share.

  "Good morning, Churchill. Come in. Glad to see you. Sit down."

  "When did you get back, Lennox?"

  "Last night."

  "Well, what luck?"

  "A rather leaky promise. Kneading slag or cold pig iron into Bessemersteel would be about as easy as pounding the law of evidence into theGovernor's brains. I emphasized the moral weight of the petition, bycalling his attention to the signatures of the judge, jury, prosecutingcounsel and especially of Prince, who presumably has most to forgive.The memorial of the inspectors, warden and physician was appended, andconstituted a eulogy upon the behavior and character of the prisoner;especially the heroic service rendered by her during the recent fatalepidemic. Human nature is an infernally vexing bundle of paradoxes, andwhen a man throws his conscience in your teeth, what then? The argumentfrom which I hoped most, proved a Greek horse, and well-nigh wroughtruin. When I dwelt upon the fact that the prisoner had voluntarilyconveyed to Prince all right and title to the fortune, which wassupposed to have tempted her to commit the crime, he bristled like aSkye terrier, and grandiloquently assured me he valued his 'prerogativeas something too sacred to be prostituted to nepotism!' Prince beinghis cousin, a readiness to exercise Executive clemency by pardoning theprisoner, might be construed into a species of bargain and sale; andhis Excellency could not condone a crime merely because the culprit hadrelinquished a fortune to his relative. Braying an ordinary fool in amortar is an unpromising job; but an extraordinary officialleatherhead, PLUS thin-skinned conscience, and religious scruples,requires the upper and nether mill stone. You know, Churchill, it istough work to straighten a crooked ramrod."

  "I see; a case of moral curvature of the spine. When he was inauguratedlast December, I chanced to be at the Capital, and heard two oldcodgers from the piney woods felicitating the State upon having aGovernor, 'Fit to tie to; honest as the day is long, and walks sostraight, he is powerful swaybacked.' Dunbar, did he refuse outright?"

  "He holds the matter in abeyance for maturer deliberation; but promisesthat, unless he sees cogent reasons to the contrary, he may grant apardon when eighteen months of the sentence have expired. That will bethe last week in August, and almost two years since she was thrown intoprison. I should have made application to his predecessor, Glenbeigh,had I not been so confident of overtaking the man who killed Gen'lDarrington; but the clue that promised so much merely led me astray. Iwent with the detective down into the mines, and found the man, whocertainly had a hideous facial deformity, but he was gray as a badger,and moreover proved an ALIBI, having been sick with small-pox in thecounty pest-house on the night of the murder. It is a tedious hunt, butI will not be balked of my game. I will collar that wretch some day,and meantime I will get the pardon."

  "I hope so; for I shall never feel easy until that poor girl is setfree. The more I hear of her deportment and character, especially ofthe religious influence she seems to be exerting through some Biblereadings she holds among the female convicts, the more painfully am Ioppressed with the conviction that we all committed a sad blunder, andnarrowly escaped hanging an innocent woman."

  "Speak for yourself. I disclaim complicity in the disgraceful wrong ofthe conviction."

  "Well, I confess I would rather stand in your place than mine;especially since my wife's brother Garland was called in as consultingphysician, last month at the penitentiary. He has so stirred hersympathies for the woman whom he pronounces a paragon of all thevirtues and graces, that I begin to fidget now at the sound of theprisoner's name, and can hardly look my wife straight in the face. WhenI go up to court next week, I will call on the Governor, and add apersonal appeal to the one I have already signed. According to theevidence, she is guilty; but when justice is vindicated, one can affordto listen to the dictates of pity. Now, Dunbar, let me congratulate youon your recent good luck. We hear wonderful accounts of your newfortune."

  "Rumor always magnifies such matters; still it is true that I haveinherited a handsome estate." "Does your sister share equally?"

  "A very liberal legacy was left to her, but you are aware that I wasnamed for my mother's brother, Randall Lennox, and he has for manyyears regarded me as his heir; hence, gave me the bulk of the property."

  "It is rather strange that he never married. I recall him as a verydistinguished looking man."

  "He had a love affair very early in life, while at college, with thedaughter of his Greek professor.
Surreptitiously he took her to driveone afternoon, and the horse became frightened, ran away and killed thegirl. He was a peculiar man, and seems never to have swerved from hisallegiance to her memory."

  "I hope it is not true that the conditions of the will require you toremove from X---and settle in New Orleans? We can't afford to lose youfrom our bar."

  "There are no restrictions in my Uncle Lennox's will; the legacy wasunconditional; but the obligation of complying with his urgent desireto have me live in New Orleans will probably induce me to make that myfuture home. For several years he has associated me with him in theconduct of some important suits; and I understand now, that his motivewas to introduce me gradually to a new field of professional labor. Notthe least valuable of my new possessions is his superb law library,probably the finest in the South. Of course my business will keep mehere, for the present, and I have matured no plans."

  "Did you reach New Orleans before his death?"

  "No, I was in Dakota, and missed a letter designed to acquaint me withhis illness. While in Washington on my return, arguing a case beforethe Supreme Court, a telegram was forwarded from the office here, and Ihurried off by the first train, but arrived about ten hours too late.Another grudge I have to settle with that bloody thief, when I unearthhim."

  "After all, Dunbar, you are a deucedly lucky fellow,--and--Hello!historic Hebrew! Bedney, have you seen a ghost?"

  "Yes--Mars Alfred--two of 'em."

  Spent with fatigue, panting, with an ashen pallor on his leathery,wrinkled face, the old negro ran in to the office, and leaned heavilyagainst the oak table.

  "What is the matter? Positively, you are turning a grayish white. Whatis the secret of the bleaching? Police after you? Or does the Sheriffwant you?"

  "Mars Alfred, this ain't no fitten time to crack your on'-Gawdly jokes,for I am scared all but into fits. I started in a brisk walk, but everystep I got more and more afeered to look behind, and I struk a foxtrot, and now my wind is clean gone."

  "What is the trouble? What are you running from?"

  "'Fore Gawd, Mars Alfred, sperrits! Sperrits, sir."

  "Do you mean that you want a dram to steady your nerves?"

  "I'm that frustrated I couldn't say what I want; but I didn't signifybottle and jimmyjohn liquor, I mean sperrits, sir, ghosts what walk,and make the hair rise like wire all over your head. The ole house ishanted shore 'nuff; and I can't stay there. Lem'me tell you, Lord! MarsAlfred, don't laugh! It's the Gawd's truth, ole Marster's sperrit isfighting up yonder in his room with the man what killed him. I seenhim, in the broad daylight, and I have cum for you and Mars Lennox togit there, jest as quick as you kin, so you kin see it fur yourselves.I know you won't believe it till you see it; nuther should I, but it'sthere. The sperrits have cum back, to show my young mistiss' childnever killed her grandpa."

  Mr. Dunbar rose quickly, handed a glass of water to the old man, andthen placed a chair for him.

  "Tell me at once what you saw."

  "Ole Marster standin' in the flo' close to the vault, with his arm upso--and the handi'on in his own hand--"

  "How dare you come here, with this cock-and-bull story? You are eitherdrunk or in your dotage. Your master has been in his grave for eighteenmonths, and--"

  "Oh! to be shore I know'd what you'd say. Cuss me for an idjut; but Iswar, Mars Lennox, I am that scared I dasn't to tell you no lie. Theproof of the pudden is jest chawin' the bag, an' I want you both to gita carridge quick, and take me up home; and if you don't see what I tellyou is thar, you may kick me from the front door clean down to the biggate. The grave is busted wide open, and the dead walks, for I seenhim; and I'll sho' him to you. Come on, I want you to see for yourself."

  "You imbecile old nincompoop! Go home, and tell Dyce to give you somecatnip tea, and tie you to a chair," laughed Mr. Churchill.

  "You'll laugh t'other side of your mouth, Mars Alfred, when you seethat awful sight up yonder. Ole Marster has come back, to clare thename of his grandchile, for he and his murderer is a wrastling, and itain't no 'oman, it's a man! A tall, pretty man, with beard on his face."

  Mr. Dunbar struck a bell at his side, and a clerk came promptly fromthe rear room.

  "Nesbitt, step over to the livery stable, and order a carriage sent upat once." Turning to Bedney he continued:

  "I suppose the gist of all your yarn-spinning is, that you have found astranger prowling about the place. How did you discover him?"

  "Lem'me tell you, as fur as I can, how I cum to see ole Marster. Mr.Prince gin orders that the house should be opened and arred reglar, andhe pintedly enjined us to have that room well cleaned and put in order.We had all pintedly gin it a wide berth, and kep' ourselves on t'otherside of the house, 'cause all such places is harryfying; but thismorning, I thought I would open the outside blind door on the westgallery, and look in through the glass door. I know'd Mr. Prince hadstirred round considerable in there, the day before he left, but Ididn't know he had drapped the curting what was looped back the lasttime I was inside. So I went up the steps and clared away a rose vinewhat was hanging low down from the i'on pillar of the piazzar, andalmost screening the door, and I walked up, I did, and looked in. LordGawd Amighty! The red curting was down on the inside, and I seenthrough it, I swar to Gawd I did, sir! I seen clar spang through intothat room, and thar stood Marster in his night clothes, jest so--andthar stood that murdering vil'yan close to him, holding the tin boxso--and Marster with the handi'on jest daring him to cum on--and--andoh! I am glad to know my Marster was game to the last, died game! Nevershow'd no white feather while thar was breath in his body. Mars Lennox,I jest drapped on my knees, and I trimbled, and my teeth chattered, andI felt the hair as it riz straight up. I was afeer'd to stay, and I wasafeer'd to move; but I shet my eyes and crawled back'ards easy to theaidge of the steps, and then run as fast as I could. I wanted Dyce tosee, too, but the poor cretur is so crippled she can't walk, and as sheweighs two hundred and twenty pounds, I couldn't tote her; so I toleher what I seen, and she sent me straight to find Mars Alfred fust, andyou next. I run to Mars Alfred's office, and he was out, so I kep' onhere. I know'd you lie'yers was barking up the wrong tree, andwrongfully pussecutin' that poor young gal; and now the very sperritshave riz up to testify fur her. If you two can face ole Marster'sghost, and tell him you know better than he did who killed him, you'vegot better pluck and backbone than I give you credit fur."

  "What did you eat last night, Bedney? Baked possum, and friedchitterlings? Evidently you have had a heavy nightmare."

  Mr. Churchill drew a match across the heel of his boot, and lighted acigar; looking quizzically at the old man, who was wiping theperspiration from his face.

  "There's the carridg, I hear the wheels. Mars Lennox and Mars Alfred,there is one thing I insists on havin'. The law is all lop-sided fromfust to last in this here case, and I want it squoze into shape, tillt'other side swells out a little. I want the Crowner to go up yondernow, and hold another inquess. He's done sot all wrong on the body, andnow let him set on the sperrit if he kin. I'm in plum earnest. TheCrowner swore that poor young gal knocked Marster in the head with thehandi'on; and yonder stands Marster, ready to brain that man--with thathandi'on hilt tight in his own right hand. Now what I wants to know is,WHAR is the 'delectible corpus' what you lieyers argufied over?"

  "You doting old humbug! If you decoy us on a wild goose chase I shallfeel like cutting one of your ears off!"

  "Slit 'em both and welcome, Mars Alfred, if you don't find I'm tellingyou the Gawd's truth. I feel all tore up, root and branch, and if folkscould be scared to death, I should be stretched out this minute on thewest piazzar. I had my doubts about ghosts and sperrits, and I lost myreligion when I cotch our preacher brandin' one of my dappledcrumple-horned hefers with his i'on; but Bedney Darrington is a changedpusson. Come en, let's see which of you will dar to laugh up yonder."

  "Are you really bent on humoring this insane or idiotic vagary?" askedMr. Churchill, as he saw his companion take his hat and prepare tofoll
ow the negro, who had left the room.

  "His terror is genuine, and his superstitious tale is probably theouter shell of some kernel of fact that may possibly be valuable. Incases of circumstantial evidence, you and I know the importance oflooking carefully into the merest trifles. Come with me; you can sparean hour."

  Leaving the carriage at the front entrance of the deserted and statelyold house, the attorneys crossed the terrace and walked around to thewestern veranda, preceded by Bedney, who paused at the steps, and wavedthem to ascend.

  "Go up and see for yourselves. I am nigh as I want to git."

  The stone floor was strewn with branches of rose vine, and the pruningshears lay open upon them, just as they had fallen from the old man'shand. The sun had passed several degrees below the meridian, and theshadows of the twisted iron columns were aslant eastward, but the glareof light shone on the plate-glass door, which was rounded into an archat top, and extended within four inches of the surface of the floor,where it fitted into the wooden frame. It was one wide sheet, unbrokeninto panes, and on the outside dust had collected, and a family ofspiders had colonized in the lower corner, spinning their gray lacequite across the base. It was evident that the Venetian blinds had longbeen closed, and recently opened, as a line of dust and dried driftleaves attested; and behind the glass hung the dull red, plush curtain,almost to the floor.

  Both gentlemen pressed forward, and looked in; but saw nothing.

  "Hang your head kinder sideways, down so, and look up, Mars Lennox."

  Mr. Dunbar changed his position, and after an instant, started back.

  "Do you see it, Churchill? No hallucination; it is as plain as print,just like the negative of a photograph."

  "Bless my soul! It beats the Chinese jugglers! What a curious thing!"

  "Stand back a little; you obstruct the light. Now, how clearly it comesout."

  Printed apparently on the plush background, like the images in acamera, were the distinctly outlined and almost life-size figures oftwo men. Clad in a long gown, with loose sleeves, Gen'l Darringtonstood near the hearth, brandishing the brass unicorn in one hand, theother thrown out and clinched; the face rather more than profile,scarcely three-quarters, was wonderfully distinct, and the hair muchdishevelled. In front was the second portrait, that of a tall, slenderyoung man who appeared to have suddenly wheeled around from the openvault, turning his countenance fully to view; while he threw up a dark,square object to ward off the impending blow. A soft wool hat pushedback, showed the curling hair about his temples, and the remarkableregularity of his handsome features; while even the plaid pattern ofhis short coat was clearly discernible.

  As the attorneys came closer, or stepped back from the door, the imagesseemed to vary in distinctness, and viewed from two angles they becameinvisible.

  Mr. Churchill stared blankly; Mr. Dunbar's gaze was riveted on the faceof the burglar, and he took his underlip between his teeth, as was hishabit in suppressing emotion.

  "Of course there is some infernal trick about this; but how do youaccount for it? It is beyond Bedney's sleight of hand," said theDistrict Solicitor.

  "I think I understand how it came here. Bedney, go around and open thelibrary door leading into this room, and loop back the curtain for amoment."

  "No, sir, Mars Lennox. Forty railroad ingines couldn't pull me in therealive. I wouldn't dar tamper with ole Marster's ghost; not for all themoney in the bank. Go yourself; I doesn't budge on no sech bizness asprying and spying amongst the sperrits. It would fling me into a fit."

  "You miserable coward. Is the house open? Where is the key of thisroom?"

  "Hanging on the horseshoe under my chimbly board. I'll fetch it andunlock the front door, so you kin git in, and hold your inquess inside."

  "Will you go, Churchill, or shall I?"

  "What is your idea?"

  "To ascertain whether the images are on the glass, as I believe, and ifthey can be seen without the background. Stand just here--and watch.When I pull back the curtain, tell me the effect."

  Some moments later, the red folds shook, swayed aside, the curtain waspushed out of sight on its brass rod. The interior of the apartmentcame into view, the articles of furniture, the face and figure of Mr.Dunbar.

  "Is it still there; do you see it?" shouted the latter.

  "No. It vanished with the curtain. Drop it back. There! I see it. Nowloop it. Gone again. Must be on the curtain," shouted the Solicitor,peering through the glass at his colleague.

  Mr. Dunbar turned a key on the inside, pushed back a bolt, and threwopen the door, which swung outward on the veranda. Then he carefullylet fall the plush curtain once more.

  "Do you see it?"

  "No. A blank show. I can't see into the trick. Dunbar, change placeswith me and satisfy yourself."

  The solicitor went inside, and Mr. Dunbar watched from the veranda arepetition of the experiment.

  "That will do, Churchill. It is all plain enough now, but you cease towonder at Bedney's superstitious solution. You understand it perfectly,don't you?"

  "No, I'll be hanged if I do! It is the queerest thing I ever saw."

  "Do you recollect that there was a violent thunder-storm the night ofthe murder?"

  "Since you mention it, I certainly recall it. Go on."

  "All the witnesses testified that next morning this door was closed asusual, but the outside blinds were open, and the red curtain was loopedback."

  "Yes, I remember all that."

  "The images are printed on the glass, and were photographed by a flashof lightning."

  "I never heard of such a freak. Don't believe it."

  "Nevertheless it is the only possible solution; and I know that severalsimilar instances have been recorded. It is like the negative of acommon photograph, brought out by a dark background; and do you noticethe figures are invisible at certain angles? It is very evident thestorm came up during the altercation that night, and electricityprinted the whole scene on this door; stamping the countenance of themurderer, to help the instruments of justice. While the blinds wereclosed, and the curtain was looped aside, of course this wonderfulwitness could not testify; but Prince let down the folds just beforehis departure, and the moment Bedney opened the blinds, there lay thetruthful record of the awful crime. Verily, the 'irony of fate!' Anoverwhelming witness for the defence, only eighteen months too late, tosave a pure, beautiful life from degradation and ruin. Well may Bedneyask, 'where is your corpus delicti?' Alfred Churchill, I wish you joyof the verdict, you worked so hard to win."

  Turning on his heel Mr. Dunbar walked the length of the veranda, andstood gazing gloomily across the tangled mass of the neglected rosegarden, taking no cognizance of the garlands of bloom, seeingeverywhere only that lithe elegant figure and Hyperion face of the manwho reigned master of Beryl's heart.

  The Solicitor leaned one shoulder against the door facing, and with hishands in his pockets, and his brows drawn into a pucker, pondered thenew fact, and eyed the strange witness.

  After a time, he approached his companion.

  "If your hypothesis be correct, and it seems plausible, if scienceasserts that electricity can photograph,--then certainly I am sorry,sorry enough for all I did in the trial; yet I cannot reproach myself,because I worked conscientiously; and the evidence was conclusiveagainst the girl. The circumstantial coincidences were strong enough tohave hung her. We all make mistakes, and no doubt I am responsible formy share; but thank God! reparation can be made! I will take the nighttrain and see the Governor before noon to-morrow. The pardon must comenow."

  "Pardon! He cannot pardon a crime of which she now stands acquitted.The only pardon possible, she may extend to those who sacrificed her.His Excellency need exercise no prerogative of mercy; his aid issuperfluous. Churchill, go in as soon as you can, and send out theSheriff, with as many of the jurors as you can get together; and askJudge Parkman to drive out this afternoon, and bring Stafford, thephotographer, with him. Tell Doctor Graham I want to see him here, ashe is an accomplish
ed electrician. I will stay here and guard this doortill all X---has seen it."

  Winged rumor flew through the length and breadth of the town, andbefore sunset a human stream poured along the road leading to "ElmBluff", overflowed the green lawn under the ancient poplars, surgedacross the terrace, and beat against the railing of the piazza. Men,women, children, lawyers, doctors, newspaper reporters, all pressingforward for a glimpse of the mysterious and weird witness, that, in thefulness of time, had arisen to reprove the world for a grievous andcruel wrong.

  The hinges had been removed; the door was set up at a certain angle,carefully balanced against the hanging curtain; and there the curiouscrowd beheld, in a veritable vision of the dead, torn as it were fromthe darkness and silence of the grave, the secret of that stormy night,when unseen powers had solemnly covenanted in defence of trustinginnocence.