Sharing her crime

SHARINGHERCRIME


ANOVEL


BY
MAYAGNESFLEMING,


AUTHOROF
“GUYEARLSCOURT’SWIFE,”“ATERRIBLESECRET,”“SILENTAND
TRUE,”
“AWONDERFULWOMAN,”“LOSTFORAWOMAN,”
“ONENIGHT’SMYSTERY,”“ABADMARRIAGE,”
ETC.ETC
“Aperfectwoman,noblyplanned,
Towarn,tocomfort,andcommand;
Andyetaspiritstillandbright,
Withsomethingofanangellight.”
NEWYORK:G.W.Dillingham,Publisher,
SUCCESSORTOG.W.CARLETON&CO.LONDON:S.LOW,SON&CO.


MDCCCLXXXVIII
SHARINGHERCRIME.
CHAPTERI.
THEPLOTTERS.
“‘Tisawomanhardoffeature,
Old,andvoidofallgoodnature.

‘Tisanugly,enviousshrew,
Railingforeveratmeandyou.”
—POPE.
ITwasChristmasEve.Alldaylongcrowdsofgaylydressedpeoplehadwalked
thestreets,baskinginthebrightwintrysunshine.Sleighaftersleighwent
dashingpast,withmerrilyjinglingbells,freightedwithrosycheeks,andbright
eyes,andyouthfulfaces,allaglowwithhappiness.
ButthesunmustsetonChristmasEve,asonallotherdays;andredly,
threateningly,angrily,hesankdowninthefarwest.Dark,sullencloudscame
rollingominouslyovertheheavens;thewindblewpiercinglycold,accompanied
withathin,drizzlingrainthatfrozeereitfell.
Graduallythestreetsweredesertedasthestormincreasedinfury;buttheYule
logswerepiledhigh,thecurtainsdrawn,andeveryhouse,saveone,inthe
handsomestreettowhichmystoryleadsme,wasallaglow,allablazewithlight.
Inalullofthestormthesoundsofmusicandmerry-makingwouldriseand
swellontheair,aslightfeettrippedmerrilyamidthemazesofthedance;ora
silverypealoflaughterwouldbreakeasilyonthewayfarer’sear.Thereflection
ofthelightthroughthecrimsoncurtainsshedawarm,rosyglowoverthesnowy
ground,brighteningthegloomofthatstormywinter’snight.
Butrisingdark,grim,andgloomyamidthosegaylylightedmansions,stooda


large,quaintbuildingofdark-redsandstone.Itstoodbyitself,spectral,shadowy,
andgrand.Norayoflightcamefromthegloomywindowsthatseemedtobe
hermeticallysealed.Allaroundwasstern,black,andforbidding.
Andyet—yes,fromonesolitarywindowtheredidstreamalong,thinlineof
light.Buteventhisdidnotlookbrightandcheerfulliketherest;ithada
cold,yellowishglare,makingtheutterblacknessoftherestofthemansion
blackerstillbycontrast.
Theroomfromwhichthelightissuedwashighandlofty.Theuncarpetedfloor

wasofblackpolishedoak,asalsowerethewainscotingandmantel.Thewalls
werecoveredwithlandscapepaper,representingthehideousDanceofDeath,in
allitsvarietyoffrightfulforms.Thehighwindowswerehungwithheavygreen
damask,nowblackwithdirtandage.Alargecirculartableofblackmarble
stoodinoneshadowycorner,andadark,hardsofa,solongandblackthatit
resembledacoffin,stoodintheother.
Asmolderingsea-coalfire,theonlycheerfulthinginthatgloomyroom,
struggledforlifeinthewide,yawningchimney.Nowitwoulddieaway,
envelopingtheapartmentingloom,andanonflamefitfullyup,untiltheghostly
shadowsonthewallwouldseemlikeatrainofghastlyspectersflittingbyinthe
darkness.Theelmtreesinfrontofthehousetrailedtheirlongarmsagainstthe
windowwithasoundinexpressiblydreary;andthedrivinghailbeat
clamorously,asifforadmittance.
Oneithersideofthefire-placestoodtwolargeeasy-chairs,cushionedwithdeep
crimsonvelvet.Inthese,facingeachother,sattwopersons—amananda
woman—theonlyoccupantsoftheroom.
Thewomanwastall,straight,andstiff,andseeminglyaboutfiftyyearsofage.
Herdresswasarustlingblacksatin,withasmallcrapehandkerchieffastenedon
herbosomwithamagnificentdiamondpin.Herhands,stillsmallandwhite,
wereflashingwithjewelsastheylayquietlyfoldedinherlap.Awidow’scap
restedonherhead,whichwasalternatelystreakedwithgrayandjet.Butherface
—sostern,sorigid,noonecouldlookuponitwithoutafeelingoffear.Thelips
—sothinthatsheseemedtohavenolipsatall—werecompressedwithalookof
unswervingdetermination.Herforeheadwaslowandretreating,withthickblack
eyebrowsmeetingacrossthelong,sharpnose,withalookatoncehaughtyand
sinister.Andfromunderthosemidnightbrowsglitteredandgleamedapairof


eyessosmall,sosharpandkeen—withsuchalookofcold,searching,steely
brightness—thattheboldestgazemightwellquailbeforethem.Onthatgrim,

hardfacenotraceofwomanlyfeelingseemedevertohavelingered—allwas
stern,harsh,andfreezinglycold.Shesatrigidlyerectinherchair,withher
needle-likeeyesrivetedimmovablyonthefaceofhercompanion,whoshifted
withevidentuneasinessbeneathheruncompromisingstare.
Hewasamanofforty,orthereabouts,sosmallofstatutethat,standingsideby
side,hecouldscarcelyhavereachedthewoman’sshoulder.But,notwithstanding
hisdiminutivesize,hislimbsweredisproportionatelylargeforhisbody,giving
himtheappearanceofbeingalllegsandarms.Hislittle,roundbullet-headwas
setonaprodigiouslythick,bull-likeneck;andhishair,short,andbristlingup
overhishead,gavehimverymuchthelookofthesun,aspicturedinthe
almanacs.
Thisprepossessinggentlemanwasarrayedinanimmaculatesuitofblack,witha
spotlesswhitedickey,bristlingwithstarchanddignity,andamostexcruciating
cravat.Halfadozenringsgarnishedhisclaw-likehands,andaprodigious
quantityofwatch-chaindangledfromhisvest.Theworthytwainwereengaged
indeepandearnestconversation.
“Well,doctor,”saidthelady,inacold,measuredtone,thatwasevidently
habitual,“nodoubtyouarewonderingwhyIsentforyouinsuchhastetonight.”
“Ineverwonder,madam,”saidthedoctor,inapompoustone—which,
consideringhissize,wasquiteimposing.“Nodoubtyouhavesomeexcellent
reasonforsendingforme,which,ifnecessaryformetoknow,youwillexplain.”
“Youareright,doctor,”saidthelady,withagrimsortofsmile.“Ihavean
excellentreasonforsendingforyou.Youarefondofmoney,Iknow.”
“Why,madam,althoughitistherootofallevil—”
“Tush,man!ThereisnoneedforSatantoquoteScripturejustnow,”she
interruptedwithasneer.“Say,doctor,whatwouldyoudotoearnfivehundred
dollarstonight?”
“Fivehundreddollars?”saidthedoctor,hissmalleyessparkling,whileagleam
ofsatisfactionlighteduphiswitheredface.

“Yes,”saidthelady,“andifwelldone,Imaydoublethesum.Whatwouldyou
doforsuchaprice?”
“RatheraskmewhatIwouldnotdo.”
“Well,thejobisaneasyone.‘Tisbutto—”
Shepaused,andfixedhereyesonhisfacewithsuchawildsortofgleamthat,
involuntarily,hequailedbeforeher.
“Praygoon,madam.I’mallattention,”hesaid,almostfearingtobreakthe
dismalsilence.“‘Tisbutto—_what?“_
“Makeawaywith—awomanandchild!”
“Murderthem?”saidthedoctor,involuntarilyrecoiling.
“Donotusethatword!”shesaid,sharply.“Coward!doyoureallyblanchand
drawback!Methoughtoneofyourprofessionwouldnothesitatetosenda
patienttoheaven.”
“But,madam,”saidthestartleddoctor,“youknowthepenaltywhichthelaw
awardsformurder.”
“Oh,Iperceive,”saidthewoman,scornfully,“itisnotthecrimeyouare
thinkingof,butyourownpreciousneck.Fearnot,mygoodfriend;thereisno
dangerofitseverbeingdiscovered.”
“But,mydearmadam,”saidthedoctor,glancinguneasilyatthestern,bitterface
beforehim,“Ihavenotthenerve,thestrength,northe—”
“Courage!”shebrokein,passionately.“Oh,craven—weak,chicken-hearted,
miserablecraven!Go,then—leaveme,andIwilldoitmyself.Youdarenot
betrayme—youcouldnotwithoutbringingyournecktothehalter—soIfear
younot.Oh,coward!coward!whydidnotheavenmakemeaman?”
Inherfierceoutburstofpassionshearosetoherfeet,andhertallfigureloomed
uplikesomeunnaturallylarge,darkshadow.Themanquailedinfearbeforeher.
“Go!”shesaid,fiercely,pointingtothedoor,“Youhaverefusedtosharemy

crime.Go!poorcowardlypoltroon!butremember,MadgeOranmorenever
forgivesnorforgets!”
“But,mydearMrs.Oranmore,justlistentomeonemoment,”saidthedoctor,
alarmedbythisthreat.“Ihavenotrefused,Ionlyobjected.Ifyouwillhavethe
goodnesstoexplain—totellmewhatImustdo,Iwill—seeaboutit.”
“Seeaboutit!”hastilyinterruptedthelady.“Youcandoit—itisinyourpower;
andyes,orno,mustbeyouranswer,immediately.”
“But—”
“Nobuts,sir.Iwillnothavethem.Ifyouansweryes,onethousanddollarsand
myfuturepatronageshallbeyours.Ifyousayno,yonderisthedoor;andonce
youhavecrossedthethreshold,beware!Now,DoctorWiseman,Iawaityour
reply.”
Sheseatedherselfagaininherchair;and,foldingherhandsinherlap,fixedher
hawk-likeeyesonhisface,withherkeen,searchinggaze.Hiseyeswerebentin
troubledthoughtonthefloor.Notthatthecrimeappalledhim;butifdetected
—thatwastherub.DoctorWisemanwas,ashisnameimplies,amanofsense,
withanexceedinglyaccommodatingconscience,thatwouldstretchadlibitum,
andnevertroubledhimwithanysuchnonsenseasremorse.Butifitwere
discovered!Withratherunpleasantvividness,thevisionofahangmanandhalter
arosebeforehim,andheinvoluntarilyloosenedhiscravat.Still,onethousand
dollarsweretempting.DoctorNicholasWisemanhadneverbeensoperplexedin
hislife.
“Well,doctor,well,”impatientlybrokeinthelady,“haveyoudecided—_yes_or
no?”
“Yes,”saidthedoctor,driventodesperationbyhersneeringtone.
“‘Tiswell,”shereplied,withamockingsmile,“Iknewyouweretoosensiblea
mantorefuse.Afterall,‘tisbutamoment’swork,andallisover.”
“Willyoubegoodenoughtogivemetheexplanationnow,madam?”saidthe
doctor,almostshudderingatthecold,unfeelingtoneinwhichshespoke.
“Certainly.Youareaware,doctor,thatwhenImarriedmylatehusband,Mr.

Oranmore,hewasawidowerwithoneson,thenthreeyearsold.”
“Iamawareofthatfact,madam.”
“Well,youalsoknowthatwhenthischild,Alfredwasfiveyearsofage,myson,
Barry,wasborn.”
“Yes,madam.”
“Perhapsyouthinkitunnecessaryformetogosofarback,doctor,butIwish
everythingtobeperfectlyunderstood.Well,thesetwoboysgrewuptogether,
weresenttoschoolandcollegetogether,andtreatedineverywayalike,
outwardly;but,ofcourse,whenathome,Barrywastreatedbest.Alfred
OranmorehadalltheprideofhisEnglishforefathers,andscornedtocomplain;
butIcouldsee,inhisflashingeyesandcurlinglips,thateveryslightwas
noticed.Mr.Oranmoreneverinterferedwithmeinmyhouseholdarrangements,
nordidhissonevercomplaintohim;though,ifhehad,Mr.Oranmorehadtoo
muchgoodsensetomentionittome.”
Theladycompressedherlipswithstatelydignity,andthedoctorlookeddown
withsomethingasnearasmileashiswrinkledlipscouldwear.Heknewvery
wellMr.Oranmorewouldnothaveinterfered;forneverafterhismarriagehad
thepoormandaredtocallhissoulhisown.Thelady,however,didnotperceive
thesmile,andwenton:
“WhenBarryleftcollege,heexpressedadesiretotravelfortwoorthreeyears
ontheContinent;andIreadilygavehimpermission,forMr.Oranmorewasthen
dead.Alfredwasstudyinglaw,andIknewhisdearestwishwastotravel;but,as
amatterofcourse,itwasoutofthequestionforhimtogo.ItoldhimIcouldnot
affordit,thatitwouldcostagreatdealtopayBarry’sexpenses,andthathemust
giveupallideaofit.Barrywent,andAlfredstaid;though,asthingsafterward
turnedout,itwouldhavebeenbetterhadIallowedhimtogo.”
Hereyesflashed,andherbrowsknitwithrisinganger,asshecontinued;
“YouknowoldMagnusErliston—SquireErliston,astheycallhim.Youknow

alsohowverywealthyheisreputedtobe—owning,besidesthemagnificent
estateofMountSunset,agoodlyportionofthevillageofSt.Mark’s.Well,
SquireErlistonhastwodaughters,totheeldestofwhom,inaccordancewiththe
willofhisfather(fromwhomhereceivedtheproperty),MountSunsetHallwill


descend.Beforemyhusband’sdeath,Icausedhimtowillhiswholepropertyto
mysonBarry,leavingAlfredpenniless.Barry’sfortune,therefore,islarge,
thoughfarfrombeingasenormousasthatEstherErlistonwastohave.Well,the
squireandIagreedthat,assoonasBarryreturnedfromEuropetheyshouldbe
married,andthusunitetheestatesofOranmoreandErliston.NeitherBarrynor
Esther,withtheusualabsurdityofyouth,wouldagreetothisarrangement;but,
ofcourse,theirobjectionmatteredlittle.IknewIcouldeasilymanageBarryby
thepowerofmystrongerwill;andthesquire,whoisroughandblustering,
could,withoutmuchdifficulty,frightenEstherintocompliance—whenallour
schemesweresuddenlyfrustratedbythatmeddler,thatbusy-body,Alfred
Oranmore.”
Shepaused,andagainhereyesgleamedwithconcentratedhatredandpassion.
“HewenttoMountSunset,andbysomemeansmetEstherErliston.Beingwhat
romanticwriterswouldcalloneof‘nature’sprinces,’heeasilysucceededin
makingafoolofher;theyeloped,weremarriedsecretly,andSquireErliston
wokeuponemorningtolearnthathisdaintyheiresshadabandonedpapaforthe
armsofabeggar,andwas,asthewifeofapennilesslawyer,residinginthe
goodlycityofWashington.
“PrettyEstherdoubtlessimaginedthatshehadonlytothrowherselfatpapa’s
feetandbathethemwithhertears,tobereceivedwithopenarms.Buttheyoung
ladyfoundherselfslightlymistaken.SquireErlistonstamped,andraged,and
swore,andfrightenedeveryoneinSt.Mark’soutoftheirwits;andthen,
calmingdown,‘vowedavow’nevertoseeoracknowledgehisdaughtermore.
Estherwastheneighteen.Ifshelivedtoreachhermajority,MountSunsetwould

behersinspiteofhim.Butthesquirehadvowedthatbeforesheshouldgetit,he
wouldburnSunsetHalltothegroundandplowthelandwithsalt.Now,doctor,I
heardthat,andsetmyselftowork.SquireErlistonhasayoungerdaughter;andI
knewthat,ifEstherdied,thatyoungerdaughterwouldbecomeheiresstoallthe
property,andshewouldthenbejustasgoodawifeforBarryashersister.Well,
IresolvedthatEsthershouldnolongerstandinmyway,thatsheshouldnever
livetoreachhermajority.Startnot,doctor,Iseethatyoudonotyetknow
MadgeOranmore.”
Shelookedlikeaveryfiend,asshesatsmilinggrimlyathimfromherseat.
“Fortunefavoredme,”shecontinued.“AlfredOranmore,withtwoorthreeother


youngmen,goingoutonedayforasail,wasovertakenbyasuddensquall—
theyknewlittleaboutmanagingaboat,andallonboardweredrowned.Ireadit
inthepapersandsetoutforWashington.AftermuchdifficultyIdiscovered
Estherinawretchedboarding-house;for,afterherhusband’sdeath,alltheir
propertywastakenfordebt.Shedidnotknowme,andIhadlittledifficultyin
persuadinghertoaccompanymehome.Threedaysagowearrived.Icauseda
reporttobecirculatedatWashingtonthatthatthewifeofthelateAlfred
Oranmorehaddiedingreatpovertyanddestitution.Thestoryfounditswayinto
thepapers;IsentonecontainingtheaccountofherdeathtoSquireErliston;so
alltroubleinthatquarterisover.”
“AndEsther?”saidthedoctor,inahuskywhisper.
“Ofherwewillspeakbyandby,”saidthelady,withawaveofherhand;“at
presentImustsayafewwordsofmysonBarry.Threeweeksagohereturned
home;buthas,fromsomeinexplicablecause,refusedtoresidehere.Heboards
nowinadistantquarterofthecity.Doctor,whatsaystheworldaboutthis—is
therereasongiven?”
“Well,yes,madam,”saidthedoctor,withevidentreluctance.
“Andwhatisit,mayIask?”

“Ifear,madam,youwillbeoffended.”
“‘SdeathIman,goon!”shebrokeinpassionately.“Whatsayeththefar-seeing,
all-wiseworldofhim?”
“‘TissaidhehasbroughtawifewithhimfromEurope,whomhewishesto
conceal.”
“Ha!ha!”laughedthelady,scornfully.“Yes,Iheardittoo—abarefootedbogtrotter,forsooth!But‘tisfalse,doctor!false,Itellyou!Youmustcontradictthe
reporteverywhereyouhearit.Thatanyoneshoulddaretosaythatmyson—my
proud,handsomeBarry—wouldmarryapotato-eatingBiddy!Oh!butformy
indignationIcouldlaughattheutterabsurdity.”
Butthefiercegleamofhereye,andthepassionateclenchingofherhand,
bespokeherinanythingbutalaughinghumor.


“IwouldnotforworldsthisreportshouldreachLizzieErliston,”shesaid,
somewhatmorecalmly.“Andspeakingofherbringsmebacktohersister.
Doctor,EstherOranmoreliesinyonderroom.”
Hestartledslightly,andglanceduneasilyinthedirection,butsaidnothing.
“Doctor,”continuedMrs.Oranmore,inalow,stern,impressivevoice,whileher
piercingeyesseemedreadinghisverysoul,“shemustneverlivetoseethesun
riseagain!”
“Madam!”heexclaimed,recoilingsuddenly.
“Youhearme,doctor,andyoumustobey.ShemustnotlivetoseeChristmas
morningdawn.”
“Wouldyouhavememurderher?”heinquired,inavoicequiveringbetween
fearandhorror.
“Ifyouwillcallitbythatname,yes,”shereplied,stillkeepingherblazingeyes
fixedimmovablyonhisface.“Sheandherchildmustdie.”
“Herchild!”
“Yes,comeandseeit.Thenightofitsbirthmustbethatofitsdeath.”
Sherose,andmakingamotionforhimtofollowher,ledthewayfromthe

apartment.Openingaheavyoakendoor,sheusheredhimintoadimbed-room,
furnishedwithalounge,asquarebedstead,whosedarkdraperygaveitthe
appearanceofahearse,andasmalltablecoveredwithbottlesandglasses.Going
tothelounge,shepointedtosomethingwrappedinalargeshawl.Hebentdown,
andthefaintwailofaninfantmethisear.
“Sheisyonder,”saidthelady,pointingtothebed;“examinethesebottles;she
willaskyouforadrink,giveittoher—youunderstand!Remember,youhave
promised.”Andbeforehecouldspeak,sheglidedfromtheroom.
CHAPTERII.
THEDEATHOFESTHER.


“Whatshriekingspiritinthatbloodyroom
Itsmortalframehathviolentlyquitted?
Acrossthemoonbeam,withasuddengleam,
Aghostlyshadowflitted.”
—HOOD.
FORamomenthestoodstill,stunnedandbewildered.Understand?Yes,he
understoodhertoowell.
Heapproachedthebed,andsoftlydrewbacktheheavy,darkcurtains.Lying
there,inatroubledsleep,layayounggirl,whosefacewaswhiterthanthepillow
whichsupportedher.Herlonghairstreamedinwilddisorderoverhershoulders,
andaddedtothewannessofherpaleface.
Shemoanedandturnedrestlesslyonherpillow,andopenedapairoflarge,wild
eyes,andfixedthemontheunprepossessingfacebendingoverher.Withlips
andeyesopenedwithterror,shelaygazing,untilhesaid,inasgentleavoiceas
hecouldassume;
“Donotbeafraidofme—Iamthedoctor.CanIdoanythingforyou,child?”
“Yes,yes,”shereplied,faintly;“givemeadrink.”
Heturnedhastilytowardthetable,feelingsogiddyhecouldscarcelystand.A

tinyvial,containingaclear,colorlessliquid,attractedhiseye.Hetookitupand
examinedit,andsettinghisteethhardtogether,poureditscontentsintoaglass.
Thenfillingitwithwaterheapproachedthebed,andraisingherhead,pressedit
toherlips.Hishandtrembledsohespiltitonthequilt.Theyounggirlliftedher
wild,troubledeyes,andfixedthemonhisfacewithagazesolongandsteady
thathisownfellbeneathit.
“Drink!’hesaid,hoarsely,stillpressingittoherlips.
Withoutawordsheobeyed,drainingittothelastdrop.Thenlayingherbackon
thepillow,hedrewthecurtainandlefttheroom.


Mrs.Oranmorewassitting,asshehadsatalltheevening,sternanduprightin
herchair.Sheliftedherkeeneyesasheentered,andencounteredafacesopallid
andghastlythatshealmoststarted.DoctorWisemantotteredratherthanwalked
toaseat.
“Well?”shesaid,inquiringly.
“Well,”hereplied,hoarsely,“Ihaveobeyedyou.”
“Thatiswell.Butpray,DoctorWiseman,takeaglassofwine;youarepositively
tremblinglikeawhippedschoolboy.Gotothesideboard;nay,donothesitate;it
isnotpoisoned.”
Herwitheringsneerdidmoretowardrevivinghimthananywinecouldhave
done.Hisexcitementwasgraduallycoolingdownbeneaththosecalm,steady
eyes,bentsocontemptuouslyuponhim.
Hedrankaglassofwine,andresumedhisseatbeforethefire,watchingsullenly
thedyingembers.
“Well,youhaveperformedyourtask?”
“Ihave,madam,andearnedmyreward.”
“Notquite,doctor;theinfantisyettobedisposedof.”
“Mustitdie,too?”
“Yes,butnothere.Youmustremoveit,inanywayyouplease,butdeathisthe

safest,thesurest.”
“Andwhynothere?”
“BecauseIdonotwishit,”sheanswered,haughtily;“thatisenoughforyou,
sirrah!Youmusttakethechildawaytonight.”
“WhatshallIdowithit?”
“Dolt!blockhead!haveyounobrains?”shesaid,passionately.“Areyouaware
tenminutes’walkwillbringyoutothesea-side?Doyouknowthewavesrefuse


nothing,andtellnotales?Neverhesitate,man!Youhavegonetoofartodraw
back.Thinkofthereward;onethousanddollarsfortenminutes’work!Tush,
doctor!Iprotest,you’retremblinglikeanervousgirl.”
“Isitnotenoughtomakeonetremble?”retortedthedoctor,rousedtosomething
likepassionbyherderidingtone;“twomurdersinonenight—isthatnothing?”
“Pshaw!no—asicklygirlandapulingchildmoreorlessintheworldisnogreat
loss.Hark!”sheadded,risingsuddenly,asawild,piercingshriekofmorethan
mortalagonybrokefromtheroomwhereEstherlay.“Didyouhearthat?”
Hearit!Theman’sfacewashorriblyghastlyandlivid,asshriekaftershriek,
wild,piercing,andshrillwithanguish,burstuponhisear.Greatdropsof
perspirationstoodonhisbrow—histeethchatteredasthoughbyanaguefit,and
hetrembledsoperceptiblythathewasforcedtograspthechairforsupport.
Notsothewoman.Shestoodcalm,listeningwithperfectcomposuretothe
agonizingcries,thatweregrowingfainterandfaintereachmoment.
“Itiswellnoneoftheservantsareinthisendofthehouse,”shesaid,quietly;“or
thoseloudscreamswouldbeoverheard,andmightgiverisetodisagreeable
remarks.”
Receivingnoanswerfromhercompanion,sheturnedtohim,andseeingthe
lookofhorroronhisghastlyface,herlipcurledwithinvoluntaryscorn.Itwas
strangeshecouldstandtheresounmoved,knowingherselftobeamurderess,
withthedyingcriesofhervictimstillringinginherears.

Theyceasedatlast—diedawayinalow,despairingmoan,andthenallgrew
still.Thedeep,solemnsilencewasmoreappallingthanhershriekshadbeen,for
theywellknewtheywerestilledforeverindeath.
“Allisover!”saidMrs.Oranmore,drawingadeepbreath.
“Yes,”wastheanswer,inavoicesohoarseandunnatural,thatitseemedtoissue
fromthejawsofdeath.
Againshelookedathim,andagainthemockingsmilecurledherlip.
“Doctor,”shesaid,quietly,“youareagreatercowardthanIevertookyoutobe.


Iamgoinginnowtoseeher—youhadbetterfollowme,ifyouarenotafraid.”
Howsardonicwasthesmilewhichaccompaniedthesewords.Stunned,terrified
ashewas,itstunghim,andhestartedafterherfromtheroom.
Theyenteredthechamberoftheinvalid.Mrs.Oranmorewalkedtothebed,drew
backthecurtains,anddisclosedafrightfulspectacle.
Halfsitting,halflying,inastrange,distortedattitudeshehadthrownherselfinto
inherdyingagony,herlipsswollenandpurple,hereyesprotruding,herhair
tornfiercelyoutbytheroots,asshehadclutcheditinherfierceanguish,was
Esther.
Thestrainingeyeballswereghastlytolookupon-theoncebeautifulfacewas
nowswollenandhideous,asshelaystarkdeadinthatlonelyroom.
Momentaftermomentpassedaway,whilethemurderersstoodsilentlygazingon
theirvictim.Thedeepsilenceofmidnightwasaround—nothingwasheardsave
theoccasionaldriftingofthesnowagainstthewindows.
Astern,gravesmilehoveredonthelipsofMrs.Oranmore,asshegazedonthe
convulsedfaceofthedeadgirl.Drawingthequiltatlastoverher,sheturned
away,saying,mockingly:
“Wherenow,EstherOranmore,isthebeautyofwhichyouweresoproud?This
starkformandghastlyfaceisnowallthatremainsofthebeautyandheiressof
SquireErliston.Suchshallbethefate,soonerorlater,ofallwhodaretothwart

me.”
Hereyesflamedupontheshrinkingmanbesideher,withanexpressionthat
madehimquake.Agrimsmileofself-satisfiedpowerbrokeoverherdarkface
assheobservedit,andhervoicehadasteelytoneofcommand,asshesaid:
“Nowforthechild.Itmustbeimmediatelydisposedof.”
“Andshe?”saidthedoctor,pointingtothebed.
“Ishallattendtothat.”
“Ifyoulike,madam,Iwillsaveyouthetrouble.”


“No,sir,”shereplied,sharply;“thoughinlifemyenemy,herremainsshallnever
begivenuptothedissecting-knife.Ihavenotforgottensheisagentleman’s
daughter,andassuchsheshallbeinterred.Nowyoumaygo.Wrapthechildin
this,and—_returnwithouther!“_
“Youshallbeobeyed,madam,”saidDoctorWiseman,catchingtheinfectionof
herrecklessspirit.Hestoopedandraisedtheinfant,whowasstillinadeep
sleep.
Mufflingitcarefullyintheshawl,hefollowedtheladyfromtheroom,and
cautiouslyquittedthehouse.
Thestormhadnowpassedaway;thepiercingwindhaddiedout,andthe
midnightmoonsailedinuncloudedmajestythroughthedeepbluesky,studded
withmyriadsofburningstars.
Thecoolnightairrestoredhimcompletelytohimself.
Holdingthestillsleepinginfantcloserinhisarms,hehurriedon,untilhestood
ontheslopingbankcommandingaviewofthebay.
Thetidewasrising.Thewavescamesplashinginonthebeach—thewhitefoam
gleamingcoldlybrilliantinthemoonlight.Thewatersbeyondlookedcold,and
sluggish,anddark—moaninginastrange,drearywayastheysweptoverthe
rocks.Howcouldhecommittheslumberinginfanttothosemercilesswaves?
Depravedandguiltyashewas,hehesitated.Itlaysoconfidinglyinhisarms,

slumberingsosweetly,thathisheartsmotehim.Yetitmustbedone.
Hedescendedcarefullytothebeach,andlayinghislivingbundleonthesnowy
sands,stoodlikeHagar,adistanceoff,toseeitdie.
Inlessthantenminutes,heknew,thewaveswouldhavewasheditfaraway.
Ashestood,withsetteethandfoldedarms,themerryjingleofapproaching
sleigh-bellsbrokeuponhisstartledear.Theywereevidentlyapproachingthe
placewherehestood.Movedbyasuddenimpulseofterror,heturnedandfled
fromthespot.
Guiltisevercowardly.Hespedon,scarcelyknowingwhitherhewent,untilin
hisblindhasteheranagainstawatchman.


Theunexpectedshocksentbothrollingoverinthesnow,whichconsiderably
cooledthefeverinDoctorWiseman’sblood.Theindignant“guardianofnight,”
withanexclamationwhichwouldn’tlookwellinprint,laidholdofthedoctor’s
collar.ButtherewasvigorinDoctorWiseman’sdwarfedbody,andstrengthin
hislong,leanarms;andwithaviolentefforthewrenchedhimselffreefromthe
policeman’stenaciousgrasp,andfled.
“Charley”startedinpursuit,andseeinghewouldsoonbeovertaken,thedoctor
suddenlydartedintothehigh,darkporticoofanimposing-lookinghouse,and
soonhadthesatisfactionofbeholdingtheangrywatchmantearpastlikea
comet,infullpursuit.
CHAPTERIII.
THEASTROLOGER.
“Hefedonpoisons,andtheyhadnopower,
Butwereakindofnutriment;helived
Throughthatwhichhadbeendeathtomanymen.
Tohimthebookofnightwasopenedwide,
Andvoicesfromthedeepabyssrevealed
Amarvelandasecret.”

—BYRON.
HAVINGassuredhimselfthatalldangerwaspast,DoctorWisemanwasabout
tostartfromthebuilding,whenasuddenmoonbeamfellonthepolisheddoorplate,andhestartedbacktoseethenameitrevealed.
“Theastrologer,AliHamed!”heexclaimed.“Nowwhatfoulfiendhasdriven
metohisaccurseddentonight?‘Tissaidhecanreadthefuture;andsurelyno
maneverneededtoknowitmorethanI.Canitbethatthehandofdestinyhas
drivenmehere,toshowmewhatisyettocome.Well,itisuselessgoinghome
orattemptingtosleeptonight;so,AliHamed,Ishalltrywhatyourmagical
blackartcandoforme.”


Herangthebellsharply,butmomentaftermomentpassed,andnoonecame.
Losingallpatience,heagainrangadeafeningpeal,whichechoedandre-echoed
throughthehouse.
Presentlythesoundoffootstepsclatteringdownstairsstruckhisear,andina
momentmorethedoorwascautiouslyopened,andadark,swarthyface
protrudedthroughtheopening.Seeingbutone,hestoodasidetoallowhimto
enter,andthensecurelylockedandboltedthedoor.
“Theastrologer,AliHamed,resideshere?”saidthedoctor.
Accustomedtovisitorsatallhoursofthedayandnight,themanbetrayedno
surpriseattheunreasonabletimehehadtakentoinquire,butansweredquietlyin
theaffirmative.
“CanIseehim?”
“Ithinkso;stepinhereonemoment,andIwillsee.”
HeusheredDr.Wisemanintoasmallandplainlyfurnishedparlor,whilehe
againwentupstairs.Inafewmomentshereappeared,and,biddinghisvisitor
followhim,ledthewayupthelongstaircasethroughaspacioussuiteof
apartments,andfinallyintoalong,darkroom,wheretheastrologerusually
receivedvisitors.
Thedoctorglancedaroundwithintensecuriositynotunmingledwithawe.The

floorwaspaintedblackandthewallswerehungwithdarktapestry,coveredwith
allmannerofcabalisticfigures.Skulls,crucibles,magicmirrors,tameserpents,
vipers,andallmannerofhideousthingswerescatteredprofuselyaround.
Whilethedoctorstillstoodcontemplatingthestrangethingsaroundhim,the
dooropenedandtheastrologerhimselfentered.Hewasanimposing-looking
personage,tallandmajestic,withgrave,Asiaticfeatures,andarrayedwith
Easternmagnificence.Hebenthisheadwithgravedignityinreturntothe
doctor’sprofoundbow,andstoodforafewmomentssilentlyregardinghim.
“Youwouldknowthefuture?”saidtheastrologer,atlength,inhisslow,
impressivevoice.
“Suchismybusinessheretonight.”


“Youwouldhaveyourhoroscopecast,probably?”
“Yes.”
“Thengivemethedayandhourofyourbirth,andreturntomorrowmorning.”
“No,Icannotwaituntilthen;Imustknowalltonight.”
Theastrologerbowed,andaftermanytediouspreliminaries,directedthedoctor
toquittheroomuntilheshouldsendforhim.Dr.Wisemanthenenteredoneof
thelongsuiteofapartmentsthroughwhichhehadpassed,andseatedhimselfin
astateoffeverishanxietytoheartheresult.Sometimeelapsederetheswarthy
individualwhohadadmittedhimpresentedhimselfatthedoorandannounced
thattheastrologerwasreadytoreceivehim.
Dr.WisemanfoundAliHamedstandingbesideasmokingcaldron,withhis
cross-bones,andlizards,andmysticfiguresaroundhim,awaitinghisentrance.
Notmuchgiventocredulity,thedoctordeterminedtotesthisskillbefore
placingimplicitbeliefinhispredictions;andtherefore,bluntlyannouncinghis
skepticism,hedemandedtoknowsomethingofthepast.
“Youareawidower,withonechild,”saidtheastrologer,calmly.
Thedoctorbowedassent.

“Youarenotrich,butavaricious;thereisnothingyouwouldnotdoformoney.
Youarelikedbynone;bynatureyouaretreacherous,cunning,and
unscrupulous;yourhandsaredyed,andyourheartisblackwithcrime;you—”
“Enough!”interruptedthedoctor,turningaspaleashissaffronvisagewould
permit;“nomoreofthepast.Whathasthefutureinstoreforme?”
“Alifeofdisgrace,anddeathonthescaffold!”
Asuppressedcryofhorrorburstfromthewhitelipsofthedoctor,whoreeledas
ifstruckbysomesuddenblow.
“Tonight,”continuedtheastrologer,unheedingtheinterruption,“achildhas
beenbornwhosedestinyshallbeunitedwithyoursthroughoutlife;some


strange,mystictiewillbindyoutogetherforatime.Butthehandofthischild
willyetbringyourheadtothehalter.”
Hepaused.Dr.Wisemanstoodstiff,rootedtothegroundwithhorror.
“Suchisyourfuture;youmaygo,”saidtheEgyptian,wavinghishand.
Withhisbloodfreezinginhisveins,withhandstremblingandlipspalsiedwith
horror,hequittedthehouse.Anhourhadscarcelypassedsincehisentrance;but
thathourseemedtohaveaddedtenyearstohisage.Hefeltnotthecold,keenair
asheslowlymovedalong,everysenseparalyzedbytheappallingpredictionhe
hadjustheard.
“Dieonthescaffold!”Hiscrimedeservedit.Butthebarethoughtmadehis
bloodruncold.Andthroughachildbornthatnighthewastoperish!Wasitthe
childofEstherOranmore?Oh,absurd!ithadbeensweptfarawaybythewaves
longerethis.Whose,then,coulditbe?Thereweremorechildrenbornthis
ChristmasEvethanthatone;buthowcouldanyoneeverknowwhathehad
done?NooneknewofitbutMrs.Oranmore;andhewellknewshewouldnever
tell.
Heplungedblindlyonwardthroughtheheapsofdriftedsnow,heedingnot,
caringnot,whitherhisstepswended.Onceortwicehemetawatchmangoing

hisrounds,andheshrankawayliketheguiltythingthathewas,dreadinglest
theword“murder”shouldbestampedonhisbrow.Hethoughtwithcowardly
terrorofthecomingday,wheneveryeye,hefancied,wouldturnuponhimwith
alookofsuspicion.
Involuntarilyhewanderedtothesea-shore,andstoodonthebankwherehehad
beenonehourbefore.Thewavesweredashingnowalmosttohisfeet;notrace
ofanylivingthingwastobeseenaround.
“Ithasperished,then!”heexclaimed,withafeelingofintenserelief.“Iknewit!
Iknewit!It,then,isnotthechildwhichistocausemydeath.But,pshaw!why
doIcreditallthatsoi-disantprophettoldme!Yethespokesotrulyofthepast,I
cannotavoidbelievinghim.Perishonthescaffold!Heavens!ifIfeltsureofit,I
wouldgomad.Ha!whatisthat?Canitbetheghastlywhitefaceofachild?”
Heleanedoverandbentdowntosee,butnothingmethiseyesavethewhite
capsofthewaves.


“FoolthatIam!”heexclaimed,turningawayimpatiently.“Wellmightstony
MadamOranmoredeemmeacowarddidsheseemenow.Iwillhastenbackto
her,andreportthesuccessofmymission.”
Heturnedaway,andstrodeinthedirectionofherhouseasfastashecouldwalk
overthefrozenground,quiteunconsciousofwhatwasatthatsamemoment
passinginanotherquarterofthecityonthatsameeventfulnight.
CHAPTERIV.
BARRYORANMORE.
—“Prayforthedead—
Whyforthedead,whoareatrest?
Prayfortheliving,inwhosebreast
Thestrugglebetweenrightandwrong
Israging,terribleandstrong.”
—LONGFELLOW

ITwasaluxuriouslyfurnishedapartment.Athick,softcarpet,whereblueviolets
peepedfromglowinggreenleavessonaturallythatoneinvoluntarilystoopedto
cullthem,coveredthefloor.Rareoldpaintingsadornedthewall,andthe
corniceswerefrettedwithgold.Theheavycrimsoncurtainsshutoutthesound
ofthewintrywind,andaglowingcoalfireshedaliving,radiantglowover
everythingaround.Theairwasredolentofintoxicatingperfume,breathingof
summerandsunshine.Onthemarble-toppedcenter-tablestoodbottlesand
glasses,acigar-case,asmoking-cap,andapairofelegant,silver-mounted
pistols.Itwasevidentlyagentleman’sroomjudgingbythedisorder.Abeautiful
marbleFlorastoodinonecorner,arrayedinagaudydressing-gown,and
oppositestoodadaintylittlePeriadornedwithabeaverhat.Jupiterhimselfwas
there,withaviolinsuspendedgracefullyaroundhisneck,andCupidwasleaning
againstthewall,heelsuppermost,withbentbow,evidentlytakingdeliberateaim
atthefliesontheceiling.
Amongthemanyexquisitepaintingshangingonthewall,therewasoneof


surpassingbeauty;itrepresentedableakhill-side,withaflockofsheepgrazing
onthescantyherbage,alowering,troubledskyaboveandonecouldalmostsee
thefitfulgustsofwindsighingoverthegrayhilltops.Standingerectwasa
younggirl—amerechildinyears—herlonggoldenhairstreamingwildlyinthe
breeze,herstrawhatswinginginherhand,herfair,brightfaceandlargeblue
eyesraisedwithmingledshynessandsaucinesstoahorsemanbendingoverher,
asifspeaking.Hisfierysteedseemedpawingwithimpatience;buthisriderheld
himwithafirmhand.Hewasatall,slightyouth,withravenblackhairandeyes,
andadark,handsomeface.Therewasawildlookaboutthedarkhorsemanand
darkersteed,remindingoneoftheBlackHorsemanoftheHartzMountains.
Underneathwaswritten,inadashingmasculinehand,“Thefirstmeeting.”There
wassomethingstrikingly,vividlylife-likeinthewholescene;eventhe
characters—theslendergirl,withherpretty,piquantface,andthehandsome,

gracefulrider—weremorelikelivingbeingsthancreationsoffancy.
And—yes,standingbythefire,hisarmrestingonthemantel,hiseyesfixedon
thehearth,stoodtheoriginalofthepicture.Thesametall,superbform;thesame
clearolivecomplexion;thesamecurlinglocksofjet,andblackeyesoffire;the
samefirm,proudmouth,shadedbyathickblackmustache—therehestood,his
eyesrivetedontheglowingcoals,hisbrowknitasthoughindeepandpainful
thought.Nowandthenthemusclesofhisfacewouldtwitch,andhiswhitehands
involuntarilyclenchatsomepassingthought.
Atintervalsthenoiseofdoorsshuttingandopeningwouldreachhiscar,andhe
wouldstartasthoughhehadreceivedagalvanicshock,andlistenforamoment
intently.Nothingcouldbeheardbutthecracklingofthefireatsuchtimes,and
againhewouldrelapseintogloomymusing.
“WhatafoolIhavebeen!”heexclaimed,atlengthbetweenhisclenchedteethas
heshookbackwithfierceimpatiencehisglossyhair,“toburdenmyselfwiththis
girl!Dolt,idiotthatIwas,toallowmyselftobebewitchedbyherblueeyesand
yellowhair!Whatdemoncouldhavepossessedmetomakehermywife?My
wife!Justfancymepresentingthatlittleblushing,shrinkingGalwaygirlasmy
wifetomyladymother,ortothatprincessofcoquettes,LizzieErliston!Iwish
toheavenIhadblownmybrainsoutinsteadofputtingmyheadintosucha
confoundednoose—makingmyselfthelaughing-stockofallmygallantfriends
andladyacquaintances!No,byheaven!theyshallneverlaughatBarry
Oranmore.Eveleenshallbesentbacktoherfriends.Theywillbegladenoughto
getheronanyterms;andshewillsoonforgetme,andbehappytendingher