CARSON JAY LEE

CHICAGO

THE LAKESIDE PRESS

Copyright, 1900 BY N.B. HAMILTON IN The United States of America and Great Britain.

Printed in Chicago, U.S.A. FIFTH EDITION

TO ONE,

"STANDING WITH RELUCTANT FEET, WHERE THE BROOK AND RIVER MEET."

[vii]

CONTENTS

The Double Scare.—The Old Man's Arrest.—Little Jack's "Sprint."

The Storm.—"Bill of Particulars" not Demanded.—Sage Assurance of an Oxford Graduate.—The Dream.

An Interesting Meeting.—A Barrier and Siege.—At the Parish Church.—Strange Sense of Familiarity at First Sight.—Esther's Friend from London.—Alice Webster as an Interloper.—Alice's Infatuation.—Visit of Paul Lanier.—Lake Excursion.—Two Proposals.

A London Conference.— The Lawsuit.—The Lake Tragedy.—Paul's Fright.—Trip to London.—Investigations of Sir Donald and the Solicitors.—The Hyde Park Confidence.— Thames Boat-Ride.—An Embarrassing Situation.—Splash of Two Bodies.— At House of Jack Bray.—A Mysterious Drive.

Parental "Air Castles."— An Unexpected Call.—Hurried Departure.—Southampton Wharf Toughs and Bullying Official.—Sledge-Hammer Blows of Drooping Pedestrian.—Aboard Ship.—An "Ishmaelite" Finding "Casus Belli" in Fate.—Tempest on Bay of Biscay.

Return from Opera.—Esther Piqued at Alice's Conduct.—Search for Oswald and Alice.—Finding of Hat and Handkerchief.—Harassed by Reporters and Detectives.—Sleuths Employed by Sir Donald.—An Optimist Turned Nemesis.—Esther's Clouded Vision.—Sir Donald's Bluff.—The Conspirators Quit London.—Sir Donald and Esther Leave for Paris.

Oswald in India.—Calcutta too Cosmopolitan.—Seeking Employment.—Trip to the Himalayas.

Pierre and Paul in Bombay.—A Rich Englishman and his Niece.—The Laniers Dine with Sir Charles Chesterton.—Mutual Infatuation of Paul and Agnes.—Paul's Proposal.—Sir Charles Demands Pedigree and Inventory.—Sir Charles and Pierre Vie in Villainous Recitals.—Matrimonial Decision Postponed.—Sir Charles and Pierre Sail for Calcutta.—Paul's Growing Infatuation.—Agnes' Caprices.—Thursday Evening Call.—The Tableau, "Eugene Aram" Dream Lines Recital.—Chesterton Rooms Vacated.

Interest in Paris Poor.—Losing Zeal for Man-Capture.—The Hospital Confession.—The Convalescent's Mysterious Departure—The Trip to Calcutta.

At Himalaya Camp.—"Lion" and "Bear."—"For Good of Kaiser and Tsar."—Tippoo Kalidasa.—Claude Leslie.—Camp Discussions.—"Citizen of the World."—Doctrine of "Merger."—New York's "Four Hundred."—The Four Bandits.—Decorating Graves of the Robbers.—"Vot Sendimendals!"

Paul Haunted.—That Grewsome Drapery of Seaweed.—The Sunday Call.—Chesterton Rooms Vacant.—Pierre's Letter.—"Josiah Peters" Sails from Bombay.

Search for Dodge Family.—Sir Donald and Esther "Shadowed."—The Metamorphosed Stranger.—Mrs. McLaren Locates Mrs. Dodge.—Visit of Sir Donald.—The Plot.—Arrest of the Conspirators.—Dodge's Confession.—Release of the Laniers.

Survey Expedition Disbanded.—The Star.—Oswald Sees Pierre and Paul.—Meets Esther and Sir Donald.—The Call.—Esther's Changed Manners.—Sir Donald's Tactics.

The Laniers Puzzled at Their Release.—Tentacles of the Octopus Contracting.—Sir Donald and His Detectives Mystified.—Flight of Pierre and Paul.

The Retrospect.—Acquiesces in Fate's Opening Seals.

The Fugitives Disguised in London.—Paul's Caprices.—Advises Pierre to "Avoid River Fogs."—Changed Shifts.

Back at Northfield.—Esther's Musings.—The Boat-Ride.—Repetition of "Eugene Aram" Dream Lines.

On the "Tramp" Steamer.—Odd Conceits.—The Handsome Stranger.—The Consumptive.—"Ermine" Function.—It will be All Right with Mother.—The Image Reflection.—The Stuttering German.—Human Transfiguration.—Promethean Myth.—White Heat of Life's Crucible.—Mother Left Out.—Arrival at New York.

Thames Pantomimes.—Pierre Discovers Paul's Craze.—Seeks to Elude Pursuer.—A Long Swoon.—Paul's Vigils.—The Pose and Threat.

Rasping Paradoxes.—Becoming Pessimistic.—Conference with Chief Detective.—Charles at Home.—Criticises Oswald Langdon.—"A Daniel Come to Judgment."

Studies Paul's Crazed Peculiarities.—Paul Missing.—His Return.—The New Dagger.—The Alarm Clock.—Sleeps on his Father's Arm.—Tragic Awakening.—The Arrests.

The "Corpus Delicti."—Sir Donald's Queer "Find."—Bessie "Bottled."—"Cometh without Observation."—Charles and the Interesting Strangers.—Visit of Veiled Woman.—Night Trip to Northfield.—An Upturned Bloody Face.—Paul in Esther's Room.—Call at Detective Headquarters.—A Misunderstanding.—Learns of the Arrests.—A Recognition.—Mute Benediction.

A Strange Story.

At the Threshold of a New World's View.—The "Modus Vivendi."—Letters to Sir Donald.—Oswald and the Newsboy.—Escorted to "Old Slip."—The Arraignment.—"Turn Your Kidnaper Loose."—Diplomatic Man-Catcher.—Oswald Attends Church.—"Overcoming the World."—Meets Claude Leslie in Central Park.—Enigma to Social Belles.—Claude Leaves for the West.—Marco Salvini.—At Saint Vincent's.—The Delirium.—"The Star! The Star! Mother!"—Inverted Spike-Prints.—Mystic Whisperings—The Letter.

The Evening's Meeting.—Angles of Cross-Purpose.—Sir Donald's Letter to Oswald.—Paul Committed as a Madman.—Pierre's Odd Ethical Caprices.—"Do Equity."—Esther Inspects Postmarks and Consults Ship Schedules.—An Expected Proposal.—A Sad Home-Coming.—A Northfield Reunion.—Ingenuous Assurance.—Puzzling Interrogatory.—Wordless Betrothal.—Pierre's Release.—Double Wedding.—Hopefully "Shadowed."

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[xi]

PREFACE

Though to explain incurs a risk, the author accepts the hazard of a word in advance.

While the novelist's license has been so used that there is need neither to resent an innuendo nor to prove an "alibi," yet, substantially, the incidents narrated occurred within the time stated, and nearly all the actors are still upon life's "boards."

The conscientious tourist in search of that "beautiful country-seat" and "wood-fringed lake" is advised to defer his visit. Perhaps the exact locations are intended to be in doubt. Even that "station" might be hard to find in an English train schedule.

Geographical accuracy may not be always essential. One noted writer has told of infatuation for

and declared that—

The reader of few or of many books may find "reminders" in these pages. The author hastens to confess echoings from bygone days, hintings of vagrant fancies, and whimsical reveries wherein appeared the vague evasive outlines of half-remembered things.[xii]

If keeping that harmless old connoisseur of the "image and superscription," who insisted on positive "rigor mortis," jailed so long seem heartless, it should be remembered that some wrongs are more apparent than real.

The antecedents of that mysterious fair-haired "Find" are still in doubt, but this signifies little. Child-life is always a miracle more inscrutable than the resurrection of Lazarus.

The hinted fate of Pierre and Paul Lanier may merit some criticism. Perhaps summary justice should have been meted out; but in view of all "extenuating circumstances," may not judgment be suspended? Since "Eternity is so long," and in deference to that "bias for saving," can we not allow an "appeal unto Cæsar"?

Carson Jay Lee.

[1]

CHAPTER I

THE SCARE AND ARREST

Passing along the street, apparently self-absorbed, there seems little in this man to attract notice.

Why does the scared newsboy hurry by, thinking of that strange face?

Quickly the agitated countenance assumes a look of dignified indifference.

A block away the boy resumes his calls:

"All about the murder of a young girl! Body found in the river! Police on track of the murderer!"

"Poor little fellow!" murmured Oswald. "He gave me such a shock! But how frightened he seemed when passing, with his innocent yell! How foolish my scare! What do New York police know or care about a crime committed in London years ago?"

Curious to read what the city papers say of this homicide, Oswald retraces his steps, turns a corner, and sees the boy waiting pay from a pleasant-faced, careful old man, who holds to his purchase while critically scrutinizing the coin, [2] as if sorry to part with such "image and superscription" without approved value.

"Be the girl dead and be she drowned sure?"

"She's a goner!" replied the boy.

This emphatic assurance of "rigor mortis" having convinced the old gentleman that his money will be well invested, the deal is about to be closed, when, seeing Oswald, little Jack sprints across the street, down an alley, into the arms of a policeman.

"Pfwhat yez roonin' loike yez a stalin' wagabond pfhwor?" sternly asks the officer.

"That willanous-lookin' rascal round there is campin' on me trail."

With visions of a kidnaper of small boys fleeing from his wrath, Michael P. O'Brien drags the terrified Jack out of the alley to the street. Seeing the old man holding to the paper and looking dazed, upon this gray-haired malefactor is placed the strong hand of the "statute in such case made and provided," and he is started toward the police-station, with the soothing assurance:

"Yez nadn't confiss yez guilt by discriminatin' ividince."

Seeing that matters are badly mixed, Jack sidles away toward the opposite street-corner. His movement is noted by the policeman at the exact moment that Jack again sees Oswald. [3] Heedless of loud command to "Sthop, in the noime of the law," the youthful auctioneer of the metropolitan press heads at right angles and is soon out of sight.

[4]

CHAPTER II

AFTER THE STORM

The day has been fearfully hot. Unconscious of surroundings, every nerve seemingly relaxed, a young man is riding along the road toward the station. Passing a wooded strip, there is a blinding flash. With much effort, Oswald frees himself from the limb of a tree, which in falling broke the neck of his horse. Bewildered with pain and drenched to the skin, he is staggering around in the mud, when a light wagon, drawn by a fine team, comes to a sudden halt at the fallen tree. The driver turns his conveyance around and assists the soaked victim of the storm to a seat. Retracing the way to another road, after a roundabout journey they stop in front of a large mansion surrounded by a grove.

The injured man is assisted to a room. A servant soon brings dry clothing and kindles a fire.

Oswald begins to meditate upon his mishap. "Close call," murmurs he, "and just as I had completed that grand air-castle! At the very moment when the acclaim was the loudest and [5] the star of Langdon seemed brightest, that blinding flash! That terrible shock, too, and such an oppressive feeling, until the limb was removed from my breast! What does it mean? How like and yet unlike my last night's dream! I feel so cold, too." He stirs the fire, which is burning cheerily, and sits down in the cushioned chair, the blood flowing from his mouth.

Oswald soon recovers from the hemorrhage, and is aroused from his languor by the entrance of a fine-looking man whose general appearance indicates a life of about fifty years.

Seeing the pale face, and noting its strong outlines, yet refined expression, he stands for a moment in silent admiration.

"How do you feel now?"

"Much better, thank you," is the feeble reply.

Perceiving his guest's weakness, he rings a bell, and upon the prompt appearance of a servant, gives orders which are soon complied with by the bringing of refreshments.

Oswald learns that his kind host bears the name of Donald Randolph, and is the owner of the beautiful country-seat known as "Northfield"; that he has a family consisting of a son and daughter; that the son is away on a trip to India, the daughter visiting in London, but expected home on the following day.

Wishing to know more of the girl, her age, [6] whether single or married, educated or otherwise, with the numerous further items of information naturally desired by a young man of twenty-five, about the daughter of an aristocratic, highly connected, wealthy English gentleman, Oswald, however, has the tact and good breeding not to demand a "bill of particulars."

There being a brief pause here, as if both feel that an important though delicate subject is under consideration, Sir Donald becomes the inquisitor, learning much about Oswald's past life without asking many questions. Sir Donald manifests such kindly, unfeigned interest, so much sympathy with Oswald's plans for the future, heartily approving of his highest aspirations, that the young man confides unreservedly, and tells it well.

Oswald's father was the younger son of Herbert Langdon, and for many years had been rector of an important parish. His parents had placed Oswald under a tutor, who had prepared him for Oxford. He had finished a course at this institution, and was taking a pleasure trip on horseback when the accident befell him. He now aspires to be a barrister, though until within a few years his secret ambition had been to be a great military leader. He had read of "St. Crispin," "Balaklava," the "Battle of the Nile," "Trafalgar," and "Waterloo," but the military [7] spirit is subservient to that of commerce and diplomacy. With much sage assurance he said:

"Massed armies, long-range ordnance, impregnable forts, steel-armored battle-ships, and deadly, explosive coast marine mines are simply bellicose forms of pacific, neutral notes commanding the 'peace of Europe.' The jealousy of nations will not permit wars of conquest for colonial extension, and the mouths of frowning cannon are imperious pledges of international comity. Weak dynasties will find tranquillity in the fears of more august powers. Even the unspeakable Moslem will be unmolested in his massacres, to insure regular clipping of Turkish bonds in money markets of European capitals."

Here Sir Donald suggested that possibly this pacific, commercial tendency had its perils, and through unforeseen complications might cause war.

"The enervating influences of wealth, the extreme conservatism thereby fostered, and the resulting disposition to accept any compromise rather than interfere with the free course of trade, may create conditions breeding hostilities. May not such extreme aversion to commercial disturbance, and disposition to think lightly of national honor, compared with financial security, be bids for attack from more hardy, martial peoples, having [8] little respect for the prerogatives of traffic or the hypocritical refinements of diplomatic craft? Are not such conditions, with the luxurious licentiousness so natural thereto, combined with the stolid indifference and poverty of the masses, most potent factors in the decline and fall of nations?"

Struck by the force of these suggestions, Oswald is silent.

Seeing that this interesting young man is pondering upon these possibilities and resulting changes in the maps of the world, Sir Donald watches him with much admiration. He thinks, I may not live to behold much of this, but would like to see a cast of his horoscope.

After a brief pause, Oswald replies:

"Serious contingencies may grow out of these tendencies of the times. These may require diplomacy and forbearance among the powers. Barbarous peoples would be at a great disadvantage in a conflict with any of the greater nations of the earth. Personal prowess, resistless in the whirlwind of the charge, is of little avail against modern artillery or long-range ordnance. The destructive power of modern military equipment will make adjustment of international differences by arbitration imperative."

He hedges at this point with the suggestion:

"Still, some crazy autocrat or frenzied people [9] at any time may bring on far-reaching conflicts, and barbarous hordes will become menaces to civilization if taught the art of modern warfare."

After a few minutes' further conversation of a general character, Sir Donald bids Oswald good-night.

Being weary, Oswald soon after retired.

On the waters of a beautiful lake, under a cloudless sky, Oswald is swiftly sailing. The breeze seconding his own skill, the boat seems instinct with life. From the wooded bank, around a distant curve, emerges a small sail with two persons aboard. Nearing the middle of the lake, he sees a struggle, a splash, then a female form sinking in the water. With its remaining occupant the boat speeds swiftly away, disappearing beyond a jutting wooded point. Oswald's sail reaches the spot, and he rescues the insensible form of a young woman. She revives and becomes his loving friend. Soon a hateful, sinister face haunts them. Many snares they unconsciously escape. There is a tangle in the web of events. They stand upon the banks of a river, near a large city. The girl clings to him despairingly. Their foe appears, and both are struck from the bank into the river. Regaining the shore, Oswald flees. Through terrible mazes he is driven over the earth, with the face of the drowned girl before his eyes, the shadow [10] of the gallows looming grim and black at every turn.

With a groan Oswald awakes. The pain in his side and breast is severe, but the dream seems much more real. He can not easily believe it to be simply a chimera of an overwrought brain.

[11]

CHAPTER III

OSWALD MEETS ESTHER

Late on the following morning a servant called with breakfast. In about an hour Sir Donald paid Oswald a visit.

Replying to a question as to his night's rest, he complained of severe pains across his lungs. Sir Donald suggested that a physician be called, but Oswald declined medical assistance.

After some pleasant talk, Sir Donald informed him that the servant would be at his command until evening; that in the afternoon Esther would return from London, and expected her father at the station, adding: "These little girls must be carefully attended."

Oswald felt a shade of disappointment at this fatherly allusion to little Esther. Having pictured a graceful young woman of faultless face, form, and manner, how strong his protest against the displacement of this ideal, by a rollicking little "tot," full of spoiled temper and domineering caprice.

Oswald now sees in Sir Donald Randolph less to admire. Mentally arraigning this aristocrat [12] for his poor taste, he blames the silly father for having such a daughter. Finally, deciding not to be unduly harsh in his judgment, as there might have been mitigating circumstances, he is feeling a sense of self-approval, when voices are heard.

Looking from the window, he sees that pictured ideal coming up the graveled walk, clasping the hand of Sir Donald, talking as though time were covenant essence, with forfeiture imminent.

At once all resentment vanishes. This noble father is promptly reinstated.

Oswald now feels an impulse to apologize for his former verdict and judgment, but decides, as neither had been announced, to suppress both.

His pleased fancy pictures pleasant moonlight strolls, long rides on horseback, frequent sails upon a wooded lake, numerous tête-à-têtes in secluded bowers, a sweet girl's tender, wistful smiles, a whispered proposal, with happy, conditional acceptance, soon followed by a grand marriage ceremony.

For nearly an hour little matters kept Sir Donald from visiting his guest.

Oswald chafed under this prolonged neglect. Why should he, Oswald Langdon, with assured honors waiting acceptance, receive such shabby [13] treatment? To leave promptly would be showing proper spirit.

However, there is little hazard of such commendable spiritual manifestation.

Strange, Miss Randolph has no more curiosity and shows so little interest.

Soon Sir Donald called, and asked if Oswald felt able to go downstairs.

"Fully, thank you!" is the animated response.

Leaning on Sir Donald's arm, the young man descends, and enters the family sitting-room, where he is presented to Esther Randolph.