CHAPTER XVIII. THE NOISELESS DEATH.
There was absolute silence in the library after the turning of theswitch that brought the pall of darkness. Long seconds passed, then alittle noise--the knob of the passage door turning. As the door swungopen, there came a gasping breath from Mary, for she saw framed in thefaint light that came from the single burner in the corridor the slenderform of her husband, Dick Gilder. In the next instant he had steppedwithin the room and pulled to the door behind him. And in that sameinstant Chicago Red had pounced on his victim, the huge hand clappedtight over the young man's mouth. Even as his powerful arm held thenewcomer in an inescapable embrace, there came a sound of scuffling feetand that was all. Finally the big man's voice came triumphantly.
"I've got him."
"It's Dick!" The cry came as a wail of despair from the girl.
At the same moment, Garson flashed his torch, and the light fellswiftly on young Gilder, bowed to a kneeling posture before the couch,half-throttled by the strength of Chicago Red. Close beside him, Marylooked down in wordless despair over this final disaster of the night.There was silence among the men, all of whom save the captor himselfwere gathered near the fireplace.
Garson retired a step farther before he spoke his command, so that,though he held the torch still, he like the others was in shadow. OnlyMary was revealed clearly as she bent in alarm toward the man she hadmarried. It was borne in on the forger's consciousness that the face ofthe woman leaning over the intruder was stronger to hold the prisonerand to prevent any outcry than the might of Chicago Red himself, and sohe gave the order.
"Get away, Red."
The fellow let go his grip obediently enough, though with a trifle ofregret, since he gloried in his physical prowess.
Thus freed of that strangling embrace, Dick stumbled blindly to hisfeet. Then, mechanically, his hand went to the lamp on the table backof the couch. In the same moment Garson snapped his torch to darkness.When, after a little futile searching, Dick finally found the catch, andthe mellow streamed forth, he uttered an ejaculation of stark amazement,for his gaze was riveted on the face of the woman he loved.
"Good God!" It was a cry of torture wrung from his soul of souls.
Mary swayed toward him a little, palpitant with fear--fear for herself,for all of them, most of all for him.
"Hush! hush!" she panted warningly. "Oh, Dick, you don't understand."
Dick's hand was at his throat. It was not easy for him to speak yet. Hehad suffered severely in the process of being throttled, and, too, hewas in the clutch of a frightful emotion. To find her, his wife, in thisplace, in such company--her, the woman whom he loved, whom, in spiteof everything, he had honored, the woman to whom he had given his name!Mary here! And thus!
"I understand this," he said brokenly at last. "Whether you ever did itbefore or not, this time you have broken the law." A sudden inspirationon his own behalf came to him. For his love's sake, he must seize onthis opportunity given of fate to him for mastery. He went on with a newvehemence of boldness that became him well.
"You're in my hands now. So are these men as well. Unless you do as Isay, Mary, I'll jail every one of them."
Mary's usual quickness was not lacking even now, in this period ofextremity. Her retort was given without a particle of hesitation.
"You can't," she objected with conviction. "I'm the only one you'veseen."
"That's soon remedied," Dick declared. He turned toward the hall door asif with the intention of lighting the chandelier.
But Mary caught his arm pleadingly.
"Don't, Dick," she begged. "It's--it's not safe."
"I'm not afraid," was his indignant answer. He would have gone on, butshe clung the closer. He was reluctant to use over-much force againstthe one whom he cherished so fondly.
There came a diversion from the man who had made the capture, who wasmightily wondering over the course of events, which was wholly unlikeanything in the whole of his own rather extensive housebreakingexperience.
"Who's this, anyhow?" Chicago Red demanded.
There was a primitive petulance in his drawling tones.
Dick answered with conciseness enough.
"I'm her husband. Who are you?"
Mary called a soft admonition.
"Don't speak, any of you," she directed. "You mustn't let him hear yourvoices."
Dick was exasperated by this persistent identification of herself withthese criminals in his father's house.
"You're fighting me like a coward," he said hotly. His voice was bitter.The eyes that had always been warm in their glances on her were chillnow. He turned a little way from her, as if in instinctive repugnance."You are taking advantage of my love. You think that because of it Ican't make a move against these men. Now, listen to me, I----"
"I won't!" Mary cried. Her words were shrill with mingled emotions."There's nothing to talk about," she went on wildly. "There never can bebetween you and me."
The young man's voice came with a sonorous firmness that was new toit. In these moments, the strength of him, nourished by suffering, wasputting forth its flower. His manner was masterful.
"There can be and there will be," he contradicted. He raised his voice alittle, speaking into the shadows where was the group of silent men.
"You men back there!" he cried. "If I give you my word to let every oneof you go free and pledge myself never to recognize one of you again,will you make Mary here listen to me? That's all I ask. I want a fewminutes to state my case. Give me that. Whether I win or lose, you mengo free, and I'll forget everything that has happened here to-night."There came a muffled guffaw of laughter from the big chest of ChicagoRed at this extraordinarily ingenuous proposal, while Dacey chuckledmore quietly.
Dick made a gesture of impatience at this open derision.
"Tell them I can be trusted," he bade Mary curtly.
It was Garson who answered.
"I know that you can be trusted," he said, "because I know you lo----"He checked himself with a shiver, and out of the darkness his faceshowed white.
"You must listen," Dick went on, facing again toward the girl, who wastrembling before him, her eyes by turns searching his expressionor downcast in unfamiliar confusion, which she herself could hardlyunderstand.
"Your safety depends on me," the young man warned. "Suppose I shouldcall for help?"
Garson stepped forward threateningly.
"You would only call once," he said very gently, yet most grimly. Hishand went to the noiseless weapon in his coat-pocket.
But the young man's answer revealed the fact that he, too, wasdetermined to the utmost, that he understood perfectly the situation.
"Once would be quite enough," he said simply.
Garson nodded in acceptance of the defeat. It may be, too, that in somesubtle fashion he admired this youth suddenly grown resolute, competentto control a dangerous event. There was even the possibility that someinstinct of tenderness toward Mary herself made him desire that thisopportunity should be given for wiping out the effects of misfortunewhich fate hitherto had brought into her life.
"You win," Garson said, with a half-laugh. He turned to the other menand spoke a command.
"You get over by the hall door, Red. And keep your ears open everysecond. Give us the office if you hear anything. If we're rushed, andhave to make a quick get-away, see that Mary has the first chance. Getthat, all of you?"
As Chicago Red took up his appointed station, Garson turned to Dick.
"Make it quick, remember."
He touched the other two and moved back to the wall by the fireplace, asfar as possible from the husband and wife by the couch.
Dick spoke at once, with a hesitancy that betrayed the depth of hisemotion.
"Don't you care for me at all?" he asked wistfully.
The girl's answer was uttered with nervous eagerness which revealed herown stress of fear.
"No, no, no!" she exclaimed, rebelliously.
Now, however, the young man had regai
ned some measure of reassurance.
"I know you do, Mary," he asserted, confidently; "a little, anyway. Why,Mary," he went on reproachfully, "can't you see that you're throwingaway everything that makes life worth while? Don't you see that?"
There was no word from the girl. Her breast was moving convulsively. Sheheld her face steadfastly averted from the face of her husband.
"Why don't you answer me?" he insisted.
Mary's reply came with all the coldness she could command.
"That was not in the bargain," Mary said, indifferently.
The man's voice grew tenderly winning, persuasive with the longing of alover, persuasive with the pity of the righteous for the sinner.
"Mary, Mary!" he cried. "You've got to change. Don't be so hard. Givethe woman in you a chance."
The girl's form became rigid as she fought for self-control. The pleatouched to the bottom of her heart, but she could not, would not yield.Her words rushed forth with a bitterness that was the cover of herdistress.
"I am what I am," she said sharply. "I can't change. Keep your promise,now, and let's get out of this."
Her assertion was disregarded as to the inability to change.
"You can change," Dick went on impetuously. "Mary, haven't you everwanted the things that other women have, shelter, and care, and the bigthings of life, the things worth while? They're all ready for you, now,Mary.... And what about me?" Reproach leaped in his tone. "After all,you've married me. Now it's up to you to give me my chance to make good.I've never amounted to much. I've never tried much. I shall, now, if youwill have it so, Mary; if you'll help me. I will come out all right, Iknow that--so do you, Mary. Only, you must help me."
"I help you!" The exclamation came from the girl in a note ofincredulous astonishment.
"Yes," Dick said, simply. "I need you, and you need me. Come away withme."
"No, no!" was the broken refusal. There was a great grief clutching atthe soul of this woman who had brought vengeance to its full flower.She was gasping. "No, no! I married you, not because I loved you, but torepay your father the wrong he had done me. I wouldn't let myself eventhink of you, and then--I realized that I had spoiled your life."
"No, not spoiled it, Mary! Blessed it! We must prove that yet."
"Yes, spoiled it," the wife went on passionately. "If I had understood,if I could have dreamed that I could ever care---- Oh, Dick, I wouldnever have married you for anything in the world."
"But now you do realize," the young man said quietly. "The thing isdone. If we made a mistake, it is for us to bring happiness out of thaterror."
"Oh, can't you see?" came the stricken lament. "I'm a jail-bird!"
"But you love me--you do love me, I know!" The young man spoke withjoyous certainty, for some inflection of her voice had told the truthto his heart. Nothing else mattered. "But now, to come back to this holewe're in here. Don't you understand, at last, that you can't beat thelaw? If you're caught here to-night, where would you get off--caughthere with a gang of burglars? Tell me, dear, why did you do it? Whydidn't you protect yourself? Why didn't you go to Chicago as youplanned?"
"What?" There was a new quality in Mary's voice. A sudden throb of shockmasked in the surface indifference of intonation.
Dick repeated his question, unobservant of its first effect.
"Why didn't you go to Chicago as you had planned?"
"Planned? With whom?" The interrogation came with an abrupt force thatcried of new suspicions.
"Why, with Burke." The young man tried to be patient over her density inthis time of crisis.
"Who told you that I had arranged any such thing?" Mary asked. Now thetenseness in her manner got the husband's attention, and he replied witha sudden gravity, apprehensive of he knew not what.
"Burke himself did."
"When?" Mary was standing rigid now, and the rare color flamed in hercheeks. Her eyes were blazing.
"Less than an hour ago." He had caught the contagion of her mood andvague alarm swept him.
"Where?" came the next question, still with that vital insistence.
"In this room."
"Burke was here?" Mary's voice was suddenly cold, very dangerous. "Whatwas he doing here?"
"Talking to my father."
The seemingly simple answer appeared the last straw to the girl's burdenof frenzied suspicion. Her voice cut fiercely into the quiet of theroom, imperious, savage.
"Joe, turn on that light! I want to see the face of every man in thisroom."
Something fatally significant in her voice set Garson a-leap to theswitch, and, in the same second, the blaze of the chandelier flamedbrilliantly over all. The others stood motionless, blinking in thesudden radiance--all save Griggs, who moved stealthily in that samemoment, a little nearer the door into the passage, which was nearest tohim.
But Mary's next words came wholly as a surprise, seemingly totallyirrelevant to this instant of crisis. Yet they rang a-throb with anhysterical anxiety.
"Dick," she cried, "what are those tapestries worth?" With the question,she pointed toward the draperies that shrouded the great octagonalwindow.
The young man was plainly astonished, disconcerted as well by theobtrusion of a sordid detail into the tragedy of the time.
"Why in the world do you----?" he began, impatiently.
Mary stamped her foot angrily in protest against the delay.
"Tell me--quick!" she commanded. The authority in her voice and mannerwas not to be gainsaid.
Dick yielded sullenly.
"Oh, two or three hundred dollars, I suppose," he answered. "Why?"
"Never mind that!" Mary exclaimed, violently. And now the girl's voicecame stinging like a whiplash. In Garson's face, too, was growing fury,for in an instant of illumination he guessed something of the truth.Mary's next question confirmed his raging suspicion.
"How long have you had them, Dick?"
By now, the young man himself sensed the fact that somethingmysteriously baneful lay behind the frantic questioning on thisseemingly trivial theme.
"Ever since I can remember," he replied, promptly.
Mary's voice came then with an intonation that brought enlightenmentnot only to Garson's shrewd perceptions, but also to the heavierintelligences of Dacey and of Chicago Red.
"And they're not famous masterpieces which your father bought recently,from some dealer who smuggled them into this country?" So simple werethe words of her inquiry, but under them beat something evil, deadly.
The young man laughed contemptuously.
"I should say not!" he declared indignantly, for he resented theimplication against his father's honesty.
"It's a trick! Burke's done it!" Mary's words came with accusingvehemence.
There was another single step made by Griggs toward the door into thepassage.
Mary's eye caught the movement, and her lips soundlessly formed thename:
"Griggs!"
The man strove to carry off the situation, though he knew well that hestood in mortal peril. He came a little toward the girl who had accusedhim of treachery. He was very dapper in his evening clothes, with hisrather handsome, well-groomed face set in lines of innocence.
"He's lying to you!" he cried forcibly, with a scornful gesture towardDick Gilder. "I tell you, those tapestries are worth a million cold."
Mary's answer was virulent in its sudden burst of hate. For once, themusic of her voice was lost in a discordant cry of detestation.
"You stool-pigeon! You did this for Burke!"
Griggs sought still to maintain his air of innocence, and he strovewell, since he knew that he fought for his life against those whomhe had outraged. As he spoke again, his tones were tremulous withsincerity--perhaps that tremulousness was born chiefly of fear, yet tothe ear his words came stoutly enough for truth:
"I swear I didn't! I swear it!"
Mary regarded the protesting man with abhorrence. The perjured wretchshrank before the loathing in her eyes.
"You came to m
e yesterday," she said, with more of restraint in hervoice now, but still with inexorable rancor. "You came to me to explainthis plan. And you came from him--from Burke!"
"I swear I was on the level. I was tipped off to the story by a pal,"Griggs declared, but at last the assurance was gone out of his voice. Hefelt the hostility of those about him.
Garson broke in ferociously.
"It's a frame-up!" he said. His tones came in a deadened roar of wrath.
On the instant, aware that further subterfuge could be of no avail,Griggs swaggered defiance.
"And what if it is true?" he drawled, with a resumption of hisaristocratic manner, while his eyes swept the group balefully. Heplucked the police whistle from his waistcoat-pocket, and raised it tohis lips.
He moved too slowly. In the same moment of his action, Garson had pulledthe pistol from his pocket, had pressed the trigger. There came no spurtof flame. There was no sound--save perhaps a faint clicking noise. Butthe man with the whistle at his lips suddenly ceased movement, stoodabsolutely still for the space of a breath. Then, he trembled horribly,and in the next instant crashed to the floor, where he lay rigid, dead.
"Damn you--I've got you!" Garson sneered through clenched teeth. Hiseyes were like balls of fire. There was a frightful grin of triumphtwisting his mouth in this minute of punishment.
In the first second of the tragedy, Dick had not understood. Indeed, hewas still dazed by the suddenness of it all. But the falling of Griggsbefore the leveled weapon of the other man, there to lie in that ghastlyimmobility, made him to understand. He leaped toward Garson--would havewrenched the pistol from the other's grasp. In the struggle, it fell tothe floor.
Before either could pick it up, there came an interruption. Even in thestress of this scene, Chicago Red had never relaxed his professionalcaution. A slight noise had caught his ear, he had stooped, listening.Now, he straightened, and called his warning.
"Somebody's opening the front door!"
Garson forgot his weapon in this new alarm. He sprang to the octagonalwindow, even as Dick took possession of the pistol.
"The street's empty! We must jump for it!" His hate was forgotten nowin an emotion still deeper, and he turned to Mary. His face was allgentleness again, where just before it had been evil incarnate, aflamewith the lust to destroy. "Come on, Mary," he cried.
Already Chicago Red had snapped off the lights of the chandelier, hadsprung to the window, thrown open a panel of it, and had vanished intothe night, with Dacey at his heels. As Garson would have called out tothe girl again in mad anxiety for haste, he was interrupted by Dick:
"She couldn't make it, Garson," he declared coolly and resolutely. "Yougo. It'll be all right, you know. I'll take care of her!"
"If she's caught----!" There was an indescribable menace in the forger'shalf-uttered threat.
"She won't be." The quality of sincerity in Dick's voice was moreconvincing than any vow might have been.
"If she is, I'll get you, that's all," Garson said gravely, as onestating a simple fact that could not be disputed.
Then he glanced down at the body of the man whom he had done to death.
"And you can tell that to Burke!" he said viciously to the dead. "Youdamned squealer!" There was a supremely malevolent content in his sneer.
Within the Law: From the Play of Bayard Veiller Page 18
