Produced by David Widger
THE BRONZE HAND
By Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs)
Copyright, 1897, by Anna Katharine Green
I. THE FASCINATING UNKNOWN.
HER room was on the ground floor of the house we mutually inhabited,and mine directly above it, so that my opportunities for seeing her werelimited to short glimpses of her auburn head as she leaned out of thewindow to close her shutters at night or open them in the morning. Yetour chance encounter in the hall or on the walk in front, had made sodeep an impression upon my sensibilities that I was never without thevision of her pale face set off by the aureole of reddish brown hair,which, since my first meeting with her, had become for me the symbol ofeverything beautiful, incomprehensible and strange.
For my fellow-lodger was a mystery.
I am a busy man now, but just at the time of which I speak, I hadleisure in abundance.
I was sharing with many others the unrest of the perilous dayssubsequent to the raid of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. Abraham Lincolnhad been elected President. Baltimore, where the incidents I am relatingtranspired, had become the headquarters of men who secretly leaguedthemselves in antagonism to the North. Men and women who felt that theirNorthern brethren had grievously wronged them planned to undermine thestability of the government. The schemes at this time were giganticin their conception and far-reaching in their scope and endlessramifications.
Naturally under these conditions, a consciousness of ever-present dangerhaunted every thinking mind. The candor of the outspoken was regardedwith doubt, and the reticence of the more cautious, with distrust. Itwas a trying time for sensitive, impressionable natures with nothing todo. Perhaps all this may account for the persistency with which I satin my open window. I was thus sitting one night--a memorable one tome--when I heard a sharp exclamation from below, in a voice I had longlistened for.
Any utterance from those lips would have attracted my attention; but,filled as this was with marked, if not extraordinary, emotion, Icould not fail to be roused to a corresponding degree of curiosity andinterest.
Thrusting out my head, I cast a rapid glance downward. A shutterswinging in the wind, and the escaping figure of a man hurrying roundthe corner of the street, were all that rewarded my scrutiny; though,from the stream of light issuing from the casement beneath, I perceivedthat her window, like my own, was wide open.
As I continued to watch this light, I saw her thrust out her head withan eagerness indicative of great excitement. Peering to right and left,she murmured some suppressed words mixed with gasps of such strongfeeling that I involuntarily called out:
"Excuse me, madam, have you been frightened in any way by the man I sawrunning away from here a moment ago?"
She gave a great start and glanced up. I see her face yet--beautiful,wonderful; so beautiful and so wonderful I have never been able toforget it. Meeting my eye, she faltered out:
"Did you see a man running away from here? Oh, sir, if I might have aword with you!"
I came near leaping directly to the pavement in my ardor and anxiety tooblige her, but, remembering before it was too late that she was neithera Juliet nor I a Romeo, I merely answered that I would be with her in amoment and betook myself below by the less direct but safer means of thestaircase.
It was a short one and I was but a moment in descending, but that momentwas long enough for my heart to acquire a most uncomfortable throb,and it was with anything but an air of quiet self-possession that Iapproached the threshold I had never before dared to cross even infancy.
The door was open and I caught one glimpse of her figure before she wasaware of my presence. She was contemplating her right hand with a lookof terror, which, added to her striking personality, made her seem atthe instant a creature of alarming characteristics fully as capable ofawakening awe as devotion.
I may have given some token of the agitation her appearance awakened,for she turned towards me with sudden vehemence.
"Oh!" she cried, with a welcoming gesture; "you are the gentleman fromup-stairs who saw a man running away from here a moment ago. Would youknow that man if you saw him again?"
"I am afraid not," I replied. "He was only a flying figure in my eyes."
"Oh!" she moaned, bringing her hands together in dismay. But,immediately straightening herself, she met my regard with one asdirect as my own. "I need a friend," she said, "and I am surrounded bystrangers."
I made a move towards her; I did not feel myself a stranger. But how wasI to make her realize the fact?
"If there is anything I can do," I suggested.
Her steady regard became searching.
"I have noticed you before to-night," she declared, with a directnessdevoid of every vestige of coquetry. "You seem to have qualities thatmay be trusted. But the man capable of helping me needs the strongestmotives that influence humanity: courage, devotion, discretion, and atotal forgetfulness of self. Such qualifications cannot be looked for ina stranger."
As if with these words she dismissed me from her thoughts, she turnedher back upon me. Then, as if recollecting the courtesy due even tostrangers, she cast me an apologetic glance over her shoulder andhurriedly added:
"I am bewildered by my loss. Leave me to the torment of my thoughts. Youcan do nothing for me."
Had there been the least evidence of falsity in her tone or theslightest striving after effect in her look or bearing, I would havetaken her at her word and left her then and there. But the candor ofthe woman and the reality of her emotion were not to be questioned, andmoved by an impulse as irresistible as it was foolhardy, I cried withthe impetuosity of my twenty-one years:
"I am ready to risk my life for you. Why, I do not know and do not careto ask. I only know you could have found no other man so willing to doyour bidding."
A smile, in which surprise was tempered by a feeling almost tender,crossed her lips and immediately vanished. She shook her head as if indeprecation of the passion my words evinced, and was about to dismissme, when she suddenly changed her mind and seized upon the aid I hadoffered, with a fervor that roused my sense of chivalry anddeepened what might have been but a passing fancy into an active andall-engrossing passion.
"I can read faces," said she, "and I have read yours. You will do for mewhat I cannot do for myself, but----Have you a mother living?"
I answered no; that I was very nearly without relatives or ties.
"I am glad," she said, half to herself. Then with a last searching look,"Have you not even a sweetheart?"
I must have reddened painfully, for she drew back with a hesitatingand troubled air; but the vigorous protest I hastened to make seemed toreassure her, for the next word she uttered was one of confidence.
"I have lost a ring." She spoke in a low but hurried tone. "It wassnatched from my finger as I reached out my hand to close my shutters.Some one must have been lying in wait; some one who knows my habitsand the hour at which I close my window for the night. The loss I havesustained is greater than you can conceive. It means more, much more,than appears. To the man who will bring me back that ring direct fromthe hand that stole it, I would devote the gratitude of a lifetime.Are you willing to make the endeavor? It is a task I cannot give to thepolice."
This request, so different from any I had expected, checked myenthusiasm in proportion as it awoke a senseless jealousy.
"Yet it seems directly in their line," I suggested, seeing nothingbut humiliation before me if I attempted the recovery of a simplelove-token.
"I know that it must seem so to you," she admitted, reading my thoughtsand answering them with skilful indirectness. "But what policeman wouldundertake a difficult and minute search for an article whose intrinsicvalue would not reach five dollars?"
"Then it is only a memento," I stammered, with very evident feeling.
"Only a memento," she repeated; "but not of love. Worthless as it is initself, it would buy everything I possess, and almost my soul to-night.I can explain no further. Will you attempt its recovery?"
Restored to myself by her frank admission that it was no lover'skeepsake I was urged to recapture and return, I allowed the powerfulindividuality of this woman to have its full effect upon me. Taking inwith one glance her beauty, the impassioned fervor of her nature, andthe subtle charm of a spirit she now allowed to work its full spell uponme, I threw every practical consideration to the winds, and impetuouslyreplied:
"I will endeavor to regain this ring for you. Tell me where to go, andwhom to attack, and if human wit and strength can compass it, you shallhave the jewel back before morning.
"Oh!" she protested, "I see that you anticipate a task of smalldifficulty. You cannot recover this particular ring so easily as that.In the first place, I do not in the least know who took it; I only knowits destination. Alas! if it is allowed to reach that destination, I ambereft of hope."
"No love token," I murmured, "and yet your whole peace depends on itsrecovery."
"More than my peace," she answered; and with a quick movement she closedthe door which I had left open behind me. As its sharp bang rangthrough the room, I realized into what a pitfall I had stumbled. Only apolitical intrigue of the most desperate character could account for thewords I had heard and the actions to which I had been a witness. But Iwas in no mood to recoil even from such dangers as these, and so my lookshowed her as she leaned toward me with the words:
"Listen! I am burdened with a secret. I am in this house, in this city,for a purpose. The secret is not my own and I cannot part with it;neither is my purpose communicable. You therefore will be obliged todeal with the greatest dangers blindfold. One encouragement only I cangive you. You will work for good ends. You are pitted against wrong, notright, and if you succumb, it will be in a cause you yourself would callnoble. Do I make myself understood, Mr.--Mr. ------"
"Abbott," I put in, with a bow.
She took the bow for an affirmative, as indeed I meant she should. "Youdo not recoil," she murmured, "not even when I say that you must takeno third party into your confidence, no matter to what extremity you arebrought."
"I would not be the man I think I am, if I recoiled," I said, smiling.
She waved her hand with almost a stern air.
"Swear!" she commanded; "swear that, from the moment you leave thisdoor till you return to it, you will breathe no word concerning me, yourerrand, or even the oath I am now exacting from you."
"Ah!" thought I to myself, "this is serious." But I took the oath underthe spell of the most forceful personality I had ever met, and did notregret it--_then_.
"Now let us waste no more time," said she.
"In the large building on ------ Street there is an office with the nameof Dr. Merriam on the door. See! I have written it on this card, so thatthere may be no mistake about it. That office is open to patients fromten in the morning until twelve at noon. During these hours any one canenter there; but to awaken no distrust, he should have some ailment.Have you not some slight disorder concerning which you might consult aphysician?"
"I doubt it," said I; "but I might manufacture one."
"That would not do with Dr. Merriam. He is a skilful man; he would seethrough any imposture."
"I have a sick friend," I ruminated. "And by the way, his case isobscure and curious. I could interest any doctor in it in five minutes."
"That is good; consult him in regard to your friend; meantime--while youare waiting for the interview, I mean--take notice of a large box youwill find placed on a side-table. Do not seem to fix your attention onit, but never let it be really out of your sight from the moment thedoor is unlocked at ten till you are forced by the doctor's importunityto leave the room at twelve. If you are alone there for one minute(and you will be allowed to remain there alone if you show no haste toconsult the doctor) unlock that box--here is the key--and look carefullyinside. No one will interfere and no one will criticize you; there ismore than one person who has access to that box."
"But--" I put in.
"You will discover there," she whispered, "a hand of bronze lying onan enamelled cushion. On the fingers of this hand there should be, anddoubtless are, rings of forged steel of peculiar workmanship. _If thereis one on the middle finger_, my cause is lost, and I can only await theend." Her cheek paled. "_But if there is not_, you may be sure that anattempt will be made by some one to-morrow--I do not know whom--to putone there before the office closes at noon. The ring will be mine--theone stolen from my hand just now--and it will be your business toprevent the box being opened for this purpose, by any means short ofpublic interference involving arrest and investigation; for this, too,would be fatal. The delay of a day may be of incalculable service to me.It would give me time to think, if not to act. Does the undertaking seema hopeless one? Am I asking too much of your inexperience?"
"It does not seem a hopeful one," I admitted; "but I am willing toundertake the adventure. What are its dangers? And why, if I see thering on the finger you speak of, cannot I take it off and bring it backto you?"
"Because," said she, answering the last question first, "the ringbecomes a part of the mechanism the moment it is thrust over the lastjoint. You could not draw it off. As for the dangers I allude to, theyare of a hidden character, and part of the secret I mentioned. If,however, you exercise your wit, your courage, and a proper amount ofstrategy, you may escape. Interference must be _proved_ against you.That rule, at least, has been held inviolate."
Aghast at the mysterious perils she thus indicated in the path towardwhich she was urging me, I for one instant felt an impulse to retreat.But adventure of any kind has its allurements for an unoccupied youthof twenty-one, and when seasoned, as this was, by a romantic, ifunreasonable, passion, proved altogether too irresistible for me to giveit up. Laughing outright in my endeavor to throw off the surplus of myexcitement, I drew myself up and uttered some fiery phrase of courage,which I doubt if she even heard. Then I said some word about the doctor,which she at once caught up.
"The doctor," said she, "may know, and may not know, the mysteries ofthat box. I would advise you to treat him solely as a doctor. He whouses the key you now hold in your hand cannot be too wary; by which Imean too careful or too silent. Oh, that I dared to go there myself! Butmy agitation would betray me. Besides, my person is known, or this ringwould never have been taken from me.
"I will be your deputy," I assured her. "Have you any furtherinstructions?"
"No," said she; "instructions are useless in an affair of this kind.Your actions must be determined by the exigencies of the moment.Meantime, my every thought will be yours. Good-night, sir; pray God, itmay not be good-by."
"One moment," I said, as I arose to go. "Have you any objection totelling me your name?"
"I am Miss Calhoun," she said, with a graceful bow.
This was the beginning of my formidable adventure with the bronze hand.
The Bronze Hand Page 1
