A Strange Disappearance

by Anna Katharine Green

  CHAPTER XIX. EXPLANATIONS

  "I cannot endure this," came in one burst of feeling from the lips ofMr. Blake. "She don't know, she don't realize--Sir," cried he, suddenlybecoming conscious of my presence in the room, "will you be good enoughto see that this note," he hastily scribbled one, "is carried across theway to my house and given to Mrs. Daniels."

  I bowed assent, routed up one of the men in the next room and despatchedit at once.

  "Perhaps she will listen to the voice of one of her own sex if not tome," said he; and began pacing the floor of the narrow room in which wewere, with a wildness of impatience that showed to what depths had sunkthe hope of gaining this lovely woman for his own.

  Feeling myself no longer necessary in that spot, I followed where mywishes led and entered the room where Luttra was bidding good-bye to herfather.

  "I shall never forget," I heard her say as I crossed the floor to whereMr. Gryce stood looking out of the window, "that your blood runs in myveins together with that of my gentle-hearted, never-to-be-forgottenmother. Whatever my fate may be or wherever I may hide the head you havebowed to the dust, be sure I shall always lift up my hands in prayer foryour repentance and return to an honest life. God grant that my prayersmay be heard and that I may yet receive at your hands, a father's kindlyblessing."

  The only answer to this was a heavily muttered growl that gave butlittle promise of any such peaceful termination to a deeply viciouslife. Hearing it, Mr. Gryce hastened to procure his men and remove thehardened wretches from the spot. All through the preparations for theirdeparture, she stood and watched their sullen faces with a wild yearningin her eye that could scarcely be denied, but when the door finallyclosed upon them, and she was left standing there with no one in theroom but myself she steadied herself up as one who is conscious that allthe storms of heaven are about to break upon her; and turning slowlyto the door waited with arms crossed and a still determination upon herbrow, the coming of the feet of him whose resolve she felt must have, asyet been only strengthened by her resistance.

  She had not long to wait. Almost with the closing of the street doorupon the detectives and their prisoners, Mr. Blake followed by Mrs.Daniels and another lady whose thick veil and long cloak but illyconcealed the patrician features and stately form of the Countess DeMirac, entered the room.

  The surprise had its effect; Luttra was evidently for the moment thrownoff her guard.

  "Mrs. Daniels!" she breathed, holding out her hands with a longinggesture.

  "My dear mistress!" returned that good woman, taking those hands in hersbut in a respectful way that proved the constraint imposed upon her byMr. Blake's presence. "Do I see you again and safe?"

  "You must have thought I cared little for the anxiety you would be sureto feel," said that fair young mistress, gazing with earnestness intothe glad but tearful eyes of the housekeeper. "But indeed, I havebeen in no position to communicate with you, nor could I do so withoutrisking that to protect which I so outraged my feelings as to leave thehouse at all. I mean the life and welfare of its master, Mrs. Daniels."

  "Ha, what is that?" quoth Mr. Blake. "It was to save me, you consentedto follow them?"

  "Yes; what else would have led me to such an action? They might havekilled me, I would not have cared, but when they began to utter threatsagainst you--"

  "Mrs. Blake," exclaimed Mrs. Daniels, catching hold of her mistress'suplifted hand, and pointing to a scar that slightly disfigured her whitearm a little above the wrist, "Mrs. Blake, what's that?"

  A pink flush, the first I had seen on her usually pale countenance, rosefor an instant to her cheeks, and she seemed to hesitate.

  "It was not there when I last saw you, Mrs. Blake."

  "No," was the slow reply, "I found myself forced that night to inflictupon myself a little wound. It is nothing, let it go."

  "No, Luttra I cannot let it go," said her husband, advancing towards herwith something like gentle command. "I must hear not only about this butall the other occurrences of that night. How came they to find you inthe refuge you had attained?"

  "I think," said she in a low tone the underlying suffering of whichit would be hard to describe, "that it was not to seek me they firstinvaded your house. They had heard you were a rich man, and the sightof that ladder running up the side of the new extension was too much forthem. Indeed I know that it was for purposes of robbery they came, forthey had hired this room opposite you some days previous to making theattempt. You see they were almost destitute of money and though they hadsome buried in the cellar of the old house in Vermont, they dared notleave the city to procure it. My brother was obliged to do so later,however. It was a surprise to them seeing me in your house. They hadreached the roof of the extension and were just lifting up the corner ofthe shade I had dropped across the open window--I always open my windowa few minutes before preparing to retire--when I rose from the chair inwhich I had been brooding, and turned up the gas. I was combing my hairat the time and so of course they recognized me. Instantly they gavea secret signal I, alas, remembered only too well, and crouching back,bade me put out the light that they might enter with safety. I was atfirst too much startled to realize the consequences of my action, andwith some vague idea that they had discovered my retreat and come forpurposes of advice or assistance, I did what they bid. Immediately theythrew back the shade and came in, their huge figures looming frightfullyin the faint light made by a distant gas lamp in the street below.'What do you want?' were my first words uttered in a voice I scarcelyrecognized for my own; 'why do you steal on me like this in the nightand through an open window fifty feet from the ground? Aren't you afraidyou will be discovered and sent back to the prison from which you haveescaped?' Their reply sent a chill through my blood and awoke me to arealization of what I had done in thus allowing two escaped convictsto enter a house not my own. 'We want money and we're not afraid ofanything now you are here.' And without heeding my exclamation ofhorror, they coolly told me that they would wait where they were tillthe household was asleep, when they would expect me to show them the wayto the silver closet or what was better, the safe or wherever it was Mr.Blake kept his money. I saw they took me for a servant, as indeed I was,and for some minutes I managed to preserve that position in their eyes.But when in a sudden burst of rage at my refusal to help them, theypushed me aside and hurried to the door with the manifest intention ofgoing below, I forgot prudence in my fears and uttered some wildappeal to them not to do injury to any one in the house for it was myhusband's. Of course that disclosure had its natural effect.

  "They stopped, but only to beset me with questions till the whole truthcame out. I could not have committed a worse folly than thus taking theminto my confidence. Instantly the advantages to be gained by using mysecret connection with so wealthy a man for the purpose of cowering meand blackmailing him, seemed to strike both their minds at once, slowas they usually are to receive impressions. The silver-closet andmoney-safe sank to a comparatively insignificant position in their eyes,and to get me out of the house, and with my happiness at stake, treatwith the honorable man who notwithstanding his non-approval of me as awoman, still regarded me as his lawfully wedded wife, became in theireyes a thing of such wonderful promise they were willing to run any andevery risk to test its value. But here to their great astonishmentI rebelled; astonishment because they could not realize my desiringanything above money and the position to which they declared I was bylaw entitled. In vain I pleaded my love; in vain I threatened exposureof their plans if not whereabouts. The mine of gold which they fondlybelieved they had stumbled upon unawares, promised too richly to beeasily abandoned. 'You must go with us,' said they, 'if not peaceablythen by force,' and they actually advanced upon me, upsetting a chairand tearing down one of the curtains to which I clung. It was then Icommitted that little act concerning which you questioned me. I wantedto show them I was not to be moved by threats of that character; that Idid not even fear the shedding of my blood; and that they would only bewasting their time
in trying to sway me by hints of personal violence.And they were a little impressed, sufficiently so at least to turn theirthreats in another direction, awakening fears at last which I could notconceal, much as I felt it would be policy to do so. Gathering up a fewarticles I most prized, my wedding ring, Mr. Blake, and a photograph ofyourself that Mrs. Daniels had been kind enough to give me, I put on mybonnet and cloak and said I would go with them, since they persisted inrequiring it. The fact is I no longer possessed motive or strengthto resist. Even your unexpected appearance at the door, Mrs. Daniels,offered no prospect of hope. Arouse the house? what would that do?only reveal my cherished secret and perhaps jeopardize the life of myhusband. Besides, they were my own near kin, remember, and so had somelittle claim upon my consideration, at least to the point of my notpersonally betraying them unless they menaced immediate and actual harm.The escape by the window which would have been a difficult task for mostwomen to perform, was easy enough for me. I was brought up to wildways you know, and the descent of a ladder forty feet long was acomparatively trivial thing for me to accomplish. It was the tearingaway from a life of silent peace, the reentrance of my soul into anatmosphere of sin and deadly plotting, that was the hard thing, thedifficult dreadful thing which hung weights to my feet, and made mewell nigh mad. And it was this which at the sight of a policeman in thestreet led me to make an effort to escape. But it was not successful.Though I was fortunate enough to free myself from the grasp of my fatherand brother, I reached the gate on ----- street only to encounter theeyes of him whose displeasure I most feared, looking sternly upon mefrom the other side. The shock was too much for me in my then weak andunnerved condition. Without considering anything but the fact that henever had known and never must, that I had been in the same house withhim for so long, I rushed back to the corner and into the arms of themen who awaited me. How you came to be there, Mr. Blake, or why you didnot open the gate and follow, I cannot say."

  "The gate was locked," returned that gentleman. "You remember it closeswith a spring, and can only be opened by means of a key which I did nothave."

  "My father had it," she murmured; "he spent a whole week in the endeavorto get hold of it, and finally succeeded on the evening of the very dayhe used it. It was left in the lock I believe."

  "So much for servants," I whispered to myself.

  "The next morning," continued she, "they put the case very plainlybefore me. I was at liberty to return at once to my home if I wouldpromise to work in their interest by making certain demands upon you asyour wife. All they wanted, said they, was a snug little sum and a liftout of the country. If I would secure them these, they would trouble meno more. But I could not concede to anything of that nature, of course,and the consequence was these long weeks of imprisonment and suspense;weeks that I do not now begrudge, seeing they have brought me theassurance of your esteem and the knowledge, that wherever I go, yourthoughts will follow me with compassion if not with love."

  And having told her story and thus answered his demands, she assumedonce more the position of lofty reserve that seemed to shut him backfrom advance like a wall of invincible crystal.

  CHAPTER XX. THE BOND THAT UNITES

  But he was not to be discouraged. "And after all this, after all youhave suffered for my sake and your own, do you think you have a right todeny me the one desire of my heart? How can you reconcile it with yourideas of devotion, Luttra?"

  "My ideas of devotion look beyond the present, Mr. Blake. It is to saveyou from years of wearing anxiety that I consent to the infliction uponyou of a passing pang."

  He took a bold step forward. "Luttra, you do not know a man's heart. Tolose you now would not merely inflict a passing pang, but sow the seedsof a grief that would go with me to the grave."

  "Do you then"--she began, but paused blushing. Mrs. Daniels took theopportunity to approach her on the other side.

  "My dear mistress," said she, "you are wrong to hold out in thismatter." And her manner betrayed something of the peculiar agitationthat had belonged to it in the former times of her secret embarassment."I, who have honored the family which I have so long served, above everyother in the land, tell you that you can do it no greater good thanto join it now, or inflict upon it any greater harm than to wilfullywithdraw yourself from the position in which God has placed you."

  "And I," said another voice, that of the Countess de Mirac, who up tothis time had held herself in the background, but who now came forwardand took her place with the rest, "I, who have borne the name of Blake,and who am still the proudest of them all at heart, I, the Countess deMirac, cousin to your husband there, repeat what this good woman hassaid, and in holding out my hand to you, ask you to make my cousin happyand his family contented by assuming that position in his householdwhich the law as well as his love accords you."

  The girl looked at the daintily gloved hand held out to her, coloredfaintly, and put her own within it.

  "I thank you for your goodness," said she, surveying with half-sad,half-admiring glances, the somewhat pale face of the beautiful brunette.

  "And you will yield to our united requests?" She cast her eye down atthe spot where her father and brother had cowered in their shackles, andshook her head. "I dare not," said she.

  Immediately Mrs. Daniels, whose emotion had been increasing every momentsince she last spoke, plunged her hand into her bosom and drew out afolded paper.

  "Mrs. Blake," said she, "if you could be convinced that what I have toldyou was true, and that you would be irretrievably injuring your husbandand his interests, by persisting in that desertion of him which youpurpose, would you not consent to reconsider your determination, settledas it appears to be?"

  "If I could be made to see that, most certainly," returned she in a lowvoice whose broken accents betrayed at what cost she remained true toher resolve. "But I cannot."

  "Perhaps the sight of this paper will help you," said she. And turningto Mr. Blake she exclaimed, "Your pardon for what I am called upon todo. A duty has been laid upon me which I cannot avoid, hard as it is foran old servant to perform. This paper--but it is no more than just thatyou, sir, should see and read it first." And with a hand that quiveredwith fear or some equally strong emotion, she put it in his clasp.

  The exclamation that rewarded the act made us all start forward. "Myfather's handwriting!" were his words.

  "Executed under my eye," observed Mrs. Daniels.

  His glance ran rapidly down the sheet and rested upon the finalsignature.

  "Why has this been kept from me?" demanded he, turning upon Mrs. Danielswith sternness.

  "Your father so willed it," was her reply. "'For a year' was hiscommand, 'you shall keep this my last will and testament which I giveinto your care with my dying hands, a secret from the world. At theexpiration of that time mark if my son's wife sits at the head of herhusband's table; if she does and is happy, suppress this by deliberatelygiving it to the flames, but if from any reason other than death, she isnot seen there, carry it at once to my son, and bid him as he honorsmy memory, to see that my wishes as there expressed are at once carriedout.'"

  The paper in Mr. Blake's hand fluttered.

  "You are aware what those wishes are?" said he.

  "I steadied his hand while he wrote," was her sad and earnest reply.

  Mr. Blake turned with a look of inexpressible deference to his wife.

  "Madame," said he "when I urged you with such warmth to join yourfate to mine and honor my house by presiding over it, I thought I wasinviting you to share the advantages of wealth as well as the love ofa lonely man's heart. This paper undeceives me. Luttra, thedaughter-in-law of Abner Blake, not Holman, his son, is the one whoby the inheritance of his millions has the right to command in thispresence."

  With a cry she took from him the will whose purport was thus brieflymade known. "O, how could he, how could he?" exclaimed she, running hereye down the sheet, and then crushing it spasmodically to her breast."Did he not realize that he could do me no greater wrong?" Then in
oneyielding up of her whole womanhood to the mighty burst of passion thathad been flooding the defenses of her heart for so long, she exclaimedin a voice the mingled rapture and determination of which rings in myears even now, "And is it a thing like this with its suggestions ofmercenary interest that shall bridge the gulf that separates you and me?Shall the giving or the gaining of a fortune make necessary the unitalof lives over which holier influences have beamed and loftier hopesshone? No, no; by the smile with which your dying father took me to hisbreast, love alone, with the hope and confidence it gives, shall be thebond to draw us together and make of the two separate planes on which westand, a common ground where we can meet and be happy."

  And with one supreme gesture she tore into pieces the will which sheheld, and sank all aglow with woman's divinest joy into the arms heldout to receive her.

  * * * * *

  I was present at the wedding-reception given them by the Countess DeMirac in her elegant apartments at the Windsor. I never saw a happierbride, nor a husband in whose eyes burned a deeper contentment. To allquestions as to who this extraordinary woman could be, where she wasfound, and in what place and at what time she was married, the Countesshad apt replies whose art of hushing curiosity without absolutelysatisfying it, was one of the tokens she yet preserved, of her shortsway as grand lady, in the gayest and most hollow city of the world.

  As I prepared to leave a scene perhaps the most gratifying in manyrespects that I had ever witnessed, I felt a slight touch on my arm. Itcame from Mrs. Blake who with her husband had crossed the room to bid mefarewell.

  "Will you allow me to thank you," said she, "for the risk you ran forme one day and of which I have just heard. It was an act that merits thegratitude of years, and as such shall be always remembered by me. Ifthe old French artist with the racking cough ever desires a favor at myhands, let him feel free to ask it. The interest I experienced in him inthe days of my trouble, will suffer no abatement in these of my joy andprosperity." And with a look that was more than words, she gave me aflower from the bouquet she held in her hand, and smilingly withdrew.