A Strange Disappearance

by Anna Katharine Green

  CHAPTER XVI. THE MARK OF THE RED CROSS

  And what success did I meet? The best in the world. And by what meansdid I attain it? By that of the simplest, prettiest clue I ever cameupon. But let me explain.

  When after a wearisome day spent in an ineffectual search through theneighborhood, I went home to my room, which as you remember was a frontone in a lodging-house on the opposite corner from Mr. Blake, I was soabsorbed in mind and perhaps I may say shaken in nerve, by the strainunder which I had been laboring for some time now, that I stumbled up anextra flight of stairs, and without any suspicion of the fact, triedthe door of the room directly over mine. It is a wonder to me now that Icould have made the mistake, for the halls were totally dissimilar,the one above being much more cut up than the one below, besides beingflanked by a greater number of doors. But the intoxication of the mindis not far removed from that of the body, and as I say it was not tillI had tried the door and found it locked, that I became aware of themistake I had made.

  With the foolish sense of shame that always overcomes us at thecommittal of any such trivial error, I stumbled hastily back, when myfoot trod upon something that broke under my weight. I never let evensmall things pass without some notice. Stooping, then, for what I hadthus inadvertently crushed, I carried it to where a single gas jetturned down very low, made a partial light in the long hall, andexamining it, found it to be a piece of red chalk.

  What was there in that simple fact to make me start and hastily recallone or two half-forgotten incidents which, once brought to mind, awokea train of thought that led to the discovery and capture of those twodesperate thieves? I will tell you.

  I don't remember now whether in my account of the visit I paid tothe Schoenmakers' house in Vermont, I informed you of the red cross Inoticed scrawled on the panel of one of the doors. It seemed a trivialthing at the time and made little or no impression upon me, the chancesbeing that I should never have thought of it again, if I had not comeupon the article just mentioned at a moment when my mind was full ofthose very Schoenmakers. But remembered now, together with anotherhalf-forgotten fact,--that some days previous I had been told by thewoman who kept the house I was in, that the parties over my head (twomen and a woman I believe she said) were giving her some trouble, butthat they paid well and therefore she did not like to turn them out,--itaroused a vague suspicion in my mind, and led to my walking back to thedoor I had endeavored to open in my abstraction, and carefully lookingat it.

  It was plain and white, rather ruder of make than those below, butoffering no inducements for prolonged scrutiny. But not so with theone that stood at right angles to it on the left. Full in the centreof that, I beheld distinctly scrawled, probably with the very piece ofchalk I then held, a red cross precisely similar in outline to the oneI had seen a few days before on the panel of the Schoenmakers' door atGranby.

  The discovery sent a thrill over me that almost raised my hair on end.Was, then, this famous trio to be found in the very house in which I hadbeen myself living for a week or more? over my head in fact? I couldnot withdraw my gaze from the mysterious looking object. I bent near, Ilistened, I heard what sounded like the suppressed snore of a powerfulman, and almost had to lay hold of myself to prevent my hand frompushing open that closed door and my feet from entering. As it was I didfinger the knob a little, but an extra loud snore from within remindedme by its suggestion of strength that I was but a small man and that inthis case and at this hour, discretion was the better part of valor.

  I therefore withdrew, but for the whole night lay awake listening tocatch any sounds that might come from above, and going so far as to planwhat I would do if it should be proved that I was indeed upon the trailof the men I was so anxious to encounter.

  With the breaking of day I was upon my feet. A rude step had gone upthe stairs a few minutes before and I was all alert to follow. ButI presently considered that my wisest course would be to sound thelandlady and learn if possible with what sort of characters I had todeal. Routing her out of the kitchen, where at that early hour she wasalready engaged in domestic duties, I drew her into a retired corner andput my questions. She was not backward in replying. She had conceived aninnocent liking for me in the short time I had been with her--a displayof weakness for which I was myself, perhaps, as much to blame asshe--and was only too ready to pour out her griefs into my sympathizingear. For those men were a grief to her, acceptable as was the moneythey were careful to provide her with. They were not only always in thehouse, that is one of them, smoking his old pipe and blackening up thewalls, but they looked so shabby, and kept the girl so close, and ifthey did go out, came in at such unheard of hours. It was enough todrive her crazy; yet the money, the money--

  "Yes," said I, "I know; and the money ought to make you overlook allthe small disagreeablenesses you mention. What is a landlady withoutpatience." And I urged her not to turn them out.

  "But the girl," she went on, "so nice, so quiet, so sick-looking! Icannot stand it to see her cooped up in that small room, always watchedover by one or both of those burly wretches. The old man says she ishis daughter and she does not deny it, but I would as soon think of thatlittle rosy child you see cooing in the window over the way, belongingto the beggar going in at the gate, as of her with her lady-like wayshaving any connection with him and his rough-acting son. You ought tosee her--"

  "That is just what I want to do," interrupted I. "Not because you havetempted my fancy by a recital of her charms," I hastened to add, "butbecause she is, if I don't mistake, a woman for whose discovery andrescue, a large sum of money has been offered."

  And without further disguise I acquainted the startled woman before mewith the fact that I was not, as she had always considered, the clerkout of employment whose daily business it was to sally forth in quest ofa situation, but a member of the city police.

  She was duly impressed and easily persuaded to second all my operationsas far as her poor wits would allow, giving me free range of her upperstory, and above all, promising that secrecy without which all my finelylaid plans for capturing the rogues without raising a scandal, wouldfall headlong to the ground.

  Behold me, then, by noon of that same day domiciled in an apartment nextto the one whose door bore that scarlet sign which had aroused withinme such feverish hopes the night before. Clad in the seedy garments ofa broken down French artist whose acquaintance I had once made, withsomething of his air and general appearance and with a few of hiswretched daubs hung about on the whitewashed wall, I commenced withevery prospect of success as I thought, that quiet espionage of the halland its inhabitants which I considered necessary to a proper attainmentof the end I had in view.

  A racking cough was one of the peculiarities of my friend, anddetermined to assume the character in toto, I allowed myself to startlethe silence now and then with a series of gasps and chokings thatwhether agreeable or not, certainly were of a character to show that Ihad no desire to conceal my presence from those I had come among. Indeedit was my desire to acquaint them as fully and as soon as possible withthe fact of their having a neighbor: a weak-eyed half-alive innocentto be sure, but yet a neighbor who would keep his door open night andday--for the warmth of the hall of course--and who with the fretfulhabit of an old man who had once been a gentleman and a beau, wentrambling about through the hall speaking to those he met and expectinga civil word in return. When he was not rambling or coughing he madearchitectural monsters out of cardboard, wherewith to tempt the penniesout of the pockets of unwary children, an employment that kept himchained to a small table in the centre of his room directly opposite theopen door.

  As I expected I had scarcely given way to three separate fits ofcoughing, when the door next me opened with a jerk and a rough voicecalled out,

  "Who's that making all that to do about here? If you don't stop thatinfernal noise in a hurry--"

  A soft voice interrupted him and he drew back. "I will go see," saidthose gentle tones, and Luttra Blake, for I knew it was she before theskirt of her ro
be had advanced beyond the door, stepped out into thehall.

  I was yet bent over my work when she paused before me. The fact is I didnot dare look up, the moment was one of such importance to me.

  "You have a dreadful cough," said she with that low ring of sympathy inher voice that goes unconsciously to the heart. "Is there no help forit?"

  I pushed back my work, drew my hand over my eyes, (I did not need tomake it tremble) and glanced up. "No," said I with a shake of my head,"but it is not always so bad. I beg your pardon, miss, if it disturbsyou."

  She threw back the shawl which she had held drawn tightly over her head,and advanced with an easy gliding step close to my side. "You do notdisturb me, but my father is--is, well a trifle cross sometimes, and ifhe should speak up a little harsh now and then, you must not mind. I amsorry you are so ill."

  What is there in some women's look, some women's touch that more thanall beauty goes to the heart and subdues it. As she stood there beforeme in her dark worsted dress and coarse shawl, with her locks simplybraided and her whole person undignified by art and ungraced byornament, she seemed just by the power of her expression and thewitchery of her manner, the loveliest woman I had ever beheld.

  "You are veree kind, veree good," I murmured, half ashamed of mydisguise, though it was assumed for the purpose of rescuing her. "Yoursympathy goes to my heart." Then as a deep growl of impatience rose fromthe room at my side, I motioned her to go and not irritate the man whoseemed to have such control over her.

  "In a minute," answered she, "first tell me what you are making."

  So I told her and in the course of telling, let drop such other factsabout my fancied life as I wished to have known to her and through herto her father. She looked sweetly interested and more than once turnedupon me that dark eye, of which I had heard so much, full of tears thatwere as much for me, scamp that I was, as for her own secret trouble.But the growls becoming more and more impatient she speedily turned togo, repeating, however, as she did so,

  "Now remember what I say, you are not to be troubled if they do speakcross to you. They make noise enough themselves sometimes, as you willdoubtless be assured of to-night."

  And the lips which seemed to have grown stiff and cold with her misery,actually softened into something like a smile.

  The nod which I gave her in return had the solemnity of a vow in it.

  My mind thus assured as to the correctness of my suspicions, and the waythus paved to the carrying out of my plans, I allowed some few daysto elapse without further action on my part. My motive was to acquaintmyself as fully as possible with the habits and ways of these twodesperate men, before making the attempt to capture them upon which somany interests hung. For while I felt it would be highly creditable tomy sagacity, as well as valuable to my reputation as a detective, torestore these escaped convicts in any way possible into the hands ofjustice, my chief ambition after all was to so manage the affair asto save the wife of Mr. Blake, not only from the consequences of theirdespair, but from the publicity and scandal attendant upon the openarrest of two heavily armed men. Strategy, therefore, rather than forcewas to be employed, and strategy to be successful must be founded uponthe most thorough knowledge of the matter with which one has to deal.Three days, then, did I give to the acquiring of that knowledge, theresult of which was the possession of the following facts.

  1. That the landlady was right when she told me the girl was never leftalone, one of the men, if not the father then the son, always remainingwith her.

  2. That while thus guarded, she was not so restricted but that she hadthe liberty of walking in the hall, though never for any length of time.

  3. That the cross on the door seemed to possess some secret meaningconnected with their presence in the house, it having been erased oneevening when the whole three went out on some matter or other, only tobe chalked on again when in an hour or so later, father and daughterreturned alone.

  4. That it was the father and not the son who made such purchases aswere needed, while it was the son and not the father who carried onwhatever operations they had on hand; nightfall being the favoritehour for the one and midnight for the other; though it not infrequentlyhappened that the latter sauntered out for a short time also in theafternoon, probably for the drink he could not go long without.

  5. That they were men of great strength but little alertness; the strayglimpses I had had of them, revealing a breadth of back that was trulyformidable, if it had not been joined to a heaviness of motion thatproclaimed a certain stolidity of mind that was eminently in our favor.

  How best to use these facts in the building up of a matured plan ofaction, was, then, the problem. By noon of a certain day I believedit to have been solved, and reluctant as I was to leave the spot of myespionage even for the hour or two necessary to a visit to headquarters,I found myself compelled to do so. Packing up in a small basket I hadfor the purpose, the little articles I had been engaged during the lastfew days in making, I gave way to a final fit of coughing so hollow andsepulchral in its tone, that it awoke a curse from the next room deep asthe growl of a wild beast, and still continuing, finally brought Luttrato the door with that look of compassion on her face that always calledup a flush to my cheek whether I wished it or no.

  "Ah, Monsieur, I am afraid your cough is very bad to-day. O I see; youhave been getting ready to go out--"

  "Come back here," broke in a heavy voice from the room she had left."What do you mean by running off to palaver with that old rascal everytime he opens his ----- battery of a cough?"

  A smile that went through me like the cut of a knife, flashed for amoment on her face.

  "My father is in one of his impatient moods," said she, "you had bettergo. I hope you will be successful," she murmured, glancing wistfully atmy basket.

  "What is that?" again came thundering on our ears. "Successful? What areyou two up to?" And we heard the rough clatter of advancing steps.

  "Go," said she; "you are weak and old; and when you come back, try andnot cough." And she gave me a gentle push towards the door.

  "When I come back," I began, but was forced to pause, the elderSchoenmaker having by this time reached the open doorway where he stoodfrowning in upon us in a way that made my heart stand still for her.

  "What are you two talking about?" said he; "and what have you got inyour basket there?" he continued with a stride forward that shook thefloor.

  "Only some little toys that he has been making, and is now going out tosell," was her low answer given with a quick deprecatory gesture such asI doubt if she ever used for herself.

  "Nothing more?" asked he in German with a red glare in the eye he turnedtowards her.

  "Nothing more," replied she in the same tongue. "You may believe me."

  He gave a deep growl and turned away. "If there was," said he, "you knowwhat would happen." And unheeding the wild keen shudder that seized herat the word, making her insensible for the moment to all and everythingabout her, he laid one heavy hand upon her slight shoulder and led herfrom the room.

  I waited no longer than was necessary to carry my feeble and falteringsteps appropriately down the stairs, to reach the floor below and gainthe landlady's presence.

  "Do you go up," said I, "and sit on those stairs till I come back. Ifyou hear the least cry of pain or sound of struggle from that younggirl's room, do you call at once for help. I will have a policemanstanding on the corner below."

  The good woman nodded and proceeded at once to take up her work-basket."Lucky there's a window up there, so I can see," I heard her mutter."I've no time to throw away even on deeds of charity."

  Notwithstanding which precaution, I was in constant anxiety during myabsence; an absence necessarily prolonged as I had to stop and explainmatters to the Superintendent, as well as hunt up Mr. Gryce and get hisconsent to assist me in the matter of the impending arrest.

  I found the latter in his own home and more than enthusiastic upon thesubject.

  "Well," said he after I had inf
ormed him of the discoveries I had made,"the fates seem to prosper you in this. I have not received an inklingof light upon the matter since I parted from you at Mr. Blake's house.By the way I saw that gentleman this morning and I tell you we will findhim a grateful man if this affair can be resolved satisfactorily."

  "That is good," said I," gratitude is what we want." Then shortly,"Perhaps it is no more than our duty to let him know that his wife issafe and under my eye; though I would by no means advocate his knowingjust how near him she is, till the moment comes when he is wanted, or weshall have a lover's impetuosity to deal with as well as all the rest."Then with a hurried remembrance of a possible contingency, went on tosay, "But, by the way, in case we should need the cooperation of Mrs.Blake in what we have before us, you had better get a line writtenin French from Mrs. Daniels, expressive of her belief in Mr. Blake'spresent affection for his wife. The latter will not otherwise trust us,or understand that we are to be obeyed in whatever we may demand. Letit be unsigned and without names in case of accident; and if thehousekeeper don't understand French, tell her to get some one to helpher that does, only be sure that the handwriting employed is her own."

  Mr. Gryce seemed to perceive the wisdom of this precaution and promisedto procure me such a note by a certain hour, after which I related tohim the various other details of the capture such as I had planned it,meeting to my secret gratification an unqualified approval that went fartowards alleviating that wound to my pride which I had received from himin the beginning of this affair.

  "Let all things proceed as you have determined, and we shall accomplishsomething that it will be a life-long satisfaction to remember," saidhe; "but you must be prepared for some twist of the screw which youdo not anticipate. I never knew anything to go off just as oneprognosticates it must, except once," he added thoughtfully, "andthen it was with a surprise attached to it that well nigh upset menotwithstanding all my preparations."

  "You won a great success that day," remarked I. "I hope the fates willbe as propitious to me to-morrow. Failure now would break my heart."

  "But you won't fail," exclaimed he. "I myself am resolved to see youthrough this matter with credit."

  And in this assurance I returned to my lodgings where I found thelandlady sitting where I had left her, darning her twenty-third sock.

  "I have to mend for a dozen men and three boys," said she, "and the boysare the worst by a heap sight. Look at that, will you," holding upa darn with a bit of stocking attached. "That hole was made playingshinny."

  I uttered my condolences and asked if any sound or disturbance hadreached her ears from above.

  "O no, all is right up there; I've scarcely heard a whisper since you'vebeen gone."

  I gave her a pat on the chin scarcely consistent with my aged andtottering mien and proceeded to shamble painfully to my room.