XXXIII
AGAIN THE CUCKOO-CLOCK
Then to the wonder and admiration of all, this extraordinary woman showedher full strength and the inexhaustible power she possessed over her ownemotions. With a smile piteous in its triumph over a suffering the depthsof which they were just beginning to sound, she held his gaze in hers andquietly said:
"You have driven me to the wall, Carleton. If I answer, nothing remainsto us of hope or honor; nothing upon which to stay our souls but aconsciousness of truth. Shall we let all go and meet our fate as peopleshould who stand on a desolate shore and see the whole world roll awayfrom before them?"
_"What was her name?"_
At his look, at this repetition of his question, she straightened up, andaddressed herself to Mr. Gryce.
"You were astonished and regarded me curiously when at the sound of thatfoolish little clock I entered this room. That little clock meanseverything to me, gentlemen." Here she surveyed them one after the otherwith her proud and candid eye. "It is the one witness I have--is it not,Carleton?" she asked, turning quickly upon him. "You have not failed mein this?"
He shook his head.
"A witness to what I am still ready to ignore, if such is your will,Carleton."
Terror! terror far beyond anything they had seen in him yet, paled hischeek and made his face almost unrecognizable; but he could still speak,and in the murmur he let fall she heard no word of protest.
"May I ask one of you to take down that clock?"
In a few minutes it lay on the table to which she had pointed. Mr. Grycewho had at that moment in his pocket a copy of the inscription pasted onits back, expected her to turn it over and show them the token of Mr.Roberts' and her united initials.
But it was not this she had in mind. Though she took up the clock, shedid not turn it round, only looked at it steadily, her trembling lips anda tear--the first they had seen--testifying to the rush of old memorieswhich this simple little object brought back to her long suffering heart.Then she laid it down again and seemed to hesitate.
"I want to get at the works inside," she appealed to them with a helplessaccent. "Can you tear off the back? That would be the quickest way. Butno, I know a quicker," and lifting the clock again she turned it upsidedown and shook it.
They heard--what did they hear? No one could say, but when she againreversed it, there fell out upon the table and rolled to the floor asmall gold circlet. Lifting it, Mr. Gryce held it out to her. Taking it,she carried it over to the District Attorney and placed it in his hand.
"Read the inscription inside."
He did so, and looking quickly up, said:
"This is a wedding ring! Yours! You believe yourself to have been marriedto him."
"I _was_ married to him in Switzerland. The marriage was legal; he knowsit, he acknowledges it, or why should he keep this ring. I have enduredseeing him put another woman in my place. I have kept silence for years;but when he asks the right name of the child shot down in the museum, andasks it in a way which compels answer, then I must make known my rightfulclaims. For that child was not only mine, but _his_; born after he leftme, and reared without his knowledge, first in this country and then inFrance."
And breaking down now utterly, she fell on her knees sobbing out her soulat the feet of him from whose honor she had torn the last poor, pitifulshred.
As for him, he said nothing; even his lips refused the smallest cry. Onlyhis hand which had hung at his side went to his heart; and thus he stoodswaying--swaying, till he finally fell forward into the arms she suddenlythrew out to receive him.
"Carleton! Carleton!" she wailed, searching for consciousness in his fastglazing eye. "It was to show you your child that I made the appointmentat the museum. Not for myself. Oh, not for myself, but for your sake,that you might have----"
Useless; all useless.
He was dead.
* * * * *
Would she have had it otherwise? Would any of them? When they were quitesure of the fact, she placed the ring in his still warm hand; then shesolemnly put it on her finger, and turning, faced them all.
"Do not blame me too much for this final blow I gave him. He had alreadyseen the truth in that mirror over there. His face--look at it and thenat this picture of her taken after death, and see the resemblance! It isshowing plainer every minute. It was the something which had worried andeluded him. Nothing could have kept back the truth from him after thatone glimpse he caught of himself and her in the mirror. I loved him. Mineis the grief; you will let me stay here with him to-night. To-morrow Iwill answer all questions."
The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow Page 33
