III. MADAME.
My motive in following this young girl was not so much to restoreher property, as to see where her engagement was taking her. I feltconfident that none of the three persons who had shown interest in thebox was the prime mover in an affair so important; and it was necessaryabove all things to find out who the prime mover was. So I followed thegirl.
She led me into a doubtful quarter of the town. As the crowd between usdiminished and we reached a point where we were the only pedestrians onthe block we were then traversing, I grew anxious lest she should turnand see me before arriving at her destination. But she evidently waswithout suspicion, for she passed without any hesitation up a certainstoop in the middle of this long block and entered an open door on whicha brass plate was to be seen, inscribed with this one word in largeblack letters:
"MADAME."
This was odd; and as I had no inclination to encounter any "madame"without some hint as to her character and business, I looked about mefor some one able and willing to give me the necessary information.An upholsterer's shop in an opposite basement seemed to offer me theopportunity I wanted. Crossing the street, I saluted the honest-lookingman I met in the doorway, and pointing out madame's house, asked whatwas done over there.
He answered with a smile.
"Go and see," he said; "the door's open. Oh, they don't chargeanything," he made haste to protest, misunderstanding, no doubt, my airof hesitation. "I was in there once myself. They all sit round and shetalks; that is, if she feels like it. It is all nonsense, you know, sir;no good in it."
"But is there any harm?" I asked. "Is the place reputable and safe?"
"Oh, safe enough; I never heard of anything going wrong there. Why,ladies go there; real ladies; veiled, of course. I have seen twocarriages at a time standing in front of that door. Fools, to be sure,sir; but honest enough, I suppose."
I needed no further encouragement. Recrossing the street, I enteredthe house which stood so invitingly open, and found myself almostimmediately in a large hall, from which I was ushered by a silentnegress into a long room with so dim and mysterious an interior thatI felt like a man suddenly transported from the bustle of the out-doorworld into the mystic recesses of some Eastern temple.
The causes of this effect were simple, A dim light suggesting worship;the faint scent of slowly burning incense; women and men sitting on lowbenches about the walls. In the center, on a kind of raised dais, backedby a drapery of black velvet, a woman was seated, in the semblance ofa Hindoo god, so nearly did her heavy, compactly crouched figure, woundabout with Eastern stuffs and glistening with gold, recall the images weare accustomed to associate with the worship of Vishnu. Her face, too,so far as it was visible in the subdued light, had the unresponsivenessof carven wood, and if not exactly hideous of feature, had in it astrange and haunting quality calculated to impress a sensitive mindwith a sense of implacable fate. Cruel, hard, passionless, and yetthreatening to a degree, must this countenance have seemed to those whowillingly subjected themselves to its baneful influence.
I was determined not to be one of these, and yet I had not regarded herfor two minutes before I found myself forgetting the real purpose of myvisit, and taking a seat with the rest, in anticipation of something forwhich as yet I had no name, even in my own mind.
How long I sat there motionless I do not know. A spell was on me--aspell from which I suddenly roused with a start. Why or through whatmeans I do not know. Nobody else had moved. Fearing a relapse intothis trance-like state, I made a persistent effort to be freed from itsdangers. Happily the full signification of my errand there burst uponme. Finding myself really awake, I ventured to peer about, expecting tosee the more willing devotees affected as I had been. I encountered aflash from the eyes of the young lady whose bag I held in my hand. Shewas under no spell. She had not only seen but recognized me.
I held the bag towards her. She gave a furtive glance in the directionof Madame--a glance not free from fear--then clutched the bag. Beforereleasing my hold upon it I ventured upon a word of explanation. I gotno further, for at this moment a voice was heard.
By the effect it had upon the expectant ones, I knew it could haveemanated only from the idol-like being who had filled the place with herawesome personality.
At first the voice sounded like a distant call, musically sweet and low;the kind of note that we can imagine the Indian snake-charmers touse when the cobra raises its winged head in obedience to the pipe'sresistless charm. Every ear was strained to hear; mine with the rest. Somuch preparation, so much faith must result in something. What was it tobe? The incoherent sounds became more and more distinct, and, finally,took on the articulate form of words. The quiet was deathly. Every onewas prepared to interpret her utterances into personal significance.The dread and trouble of the times filling all minds, men wished to beforehanded with the decrees of Providence. Into this brooding silencethe low, vibrating tones of this mysterious voice entered, and this iswhat we heard:
"_Doom! doom! For him--the one--the betrayer--the passing bell istolling. Hear it, ye weak ones and grow strong. Hear it, ye mighty andtremble. Not alone for him will it ring. For ye! for ye! if the decreeof the linked rings goes forth---_"
Here there was a perceptible quiver of the drapery back of the dais.Others may not have noted it; I did. When, therefore, a very white handcame slowly from between its folds and placed its fingers upon the righttemple of Madame, I was not much startled. What did startle me wasthe fact let out before that admonishing hand touched her, that thisbeing--I can hardly call her woman--seemingly so far removed from thepolitical agitations of the day, was, in very deed, either consciouslyor unconsciously--I could not decide which--intimately connectedwith the conspiracy I was at that very moment striving to defeat.How intimately? Was she the prime mover I was seeking, or simply aninstrument under the control of another, and yet stronger, personalityimaged in the owner of that white hand?
There was no means of determining at that moment. Meanwhile, the fingershad left the temple of Madame. The hand was slowly withdrawn. Sleepapparently fell again upon the dreamer, but only long enough for her tobring forth the words:
"I have said."
The silence that followed, gave me time to think. It was necessary.She had bidden the mighty tremble and had pronounced death to one--thebetrayer. Was this senseless drivel, prophetic sight, or threatenedmurder? I inclined to consider it the last, and this was why: For someweeks now, murder, or, at least, sudden death, had been rampant inthe country. My flesh crept as I remembered the many mysterious deathsreported within the month from St. Louis, Boston, New Orleans, New Yorkand even here in Baltimore. Like a flash it came across me that everyname was identified, more or less closely, with the political affairs ofthe time. Coupling my knowledge with what I conjectured, was it strangeI saw a confirmation of the worst fears expressed by Miss Calhoun in thehalf-completed sentences of this seeming clairvoyant?
So occupied had I been with my own thoughts that I feared I might havedone something to call an undesirable attention to myself. Glancingfurtively to one side, I heard, in the opposite direction, these words:
"She has never failed. What she has said will come to pass. Some one ofnote will die."
These gloomy words were the first to break the ominous silence.Turning to face the speaker, I encountered the cold eye of a man with aretreating chin, a receding forehead, and a mouth large and cruel enoughto stamp him as one of those perverted natures who, to the unscrupulous,are usefully insane.
Here, then, was a being who not only knew the meaning of the fatefulwords we had heard, but, to my mind, could be relied upon to make them averity.
It was a relief to me to turn my gaze from his repellant features to thefixed countenance of Madame. She had not stirred; but either the roomhad grown lighter or my eyes had become more accustomed to the darkness,for I certainly saw a change in her look. Her eyelids were now raised,and her eyes were bent directly upon me. This was uncomfortable,especially as there was malev
olence in her glance, or so I thought,and, far from being pleased with my position, I began to wish that Ihad never allowed myself to enter the place. Under the influence of thisfeeling I let my eyes drop from the woman's countenance to her hands,which were folded, as I have said, in a fixed position across herbreast. The result was an increase of my mental disturbance. They werebrown, shining hands, laden with rings, and, in the added light, underwhich I saw them, bore a strange resemblance to the bronze hand I hadjust left in Dr. Merriam's office.
I had never considered myself a weak man, but, from that instant, Ibegan to have a crawling fear of this woman--a fear that was in nowiselessened by the very evident agitation visible in the girl, who had beenfor me the connecting link between that object of mystery and this.
Unendurable quiet was upon us all again. It was aggravated by awe--anawe to which I was determined not to succumb, notwithstanding the secretuneasiness under which I was laboring. So I let my eyes continue toroam, till they fell upon the one thing moving in the room. This was aman's foot, which I now saw projecting from behind the drapery throughwhich I had seen the white hand glide. It was swinging up and down in animpatient way, so out of keeping with the emotions perceptible on thisside of the drapery that I felt forced to ask myself what sort of personthis could be who thus kept watch and ward with such very commonplaceimpatience over a creature who was able to hold every other person inher presence under a spell. The drapery did not give up its secrets, andagain I yielded to the fascinations of Madame's face.
There was a change in it; the eyes no longer looked my way, but intospace, which seemed to hold for them some terrible and heart-rendingvision. The lips, which had been closed, were now parted, and from themissued a breath which soon formed itself into words.
"'Vengeance is mine! I will repay,' saith the Lord." What passionateutterance was this? The voice that had been musical now rang withjangling discord. The swinging of the foot behind the drapery ceased.Madame spoke on:
"Through pain, sorrow, blood and death shall victory come. Life forlife, pang for pang, scorn for scorn!"
The swinging foot disappeared, and the small white hand passed quicklythrough the curtain and rested again upon the forehead of Madame. Butwithout a calming effect this time. On the contrary, it seemed to urgeand incite her, for she broke into a new strain, speaking rapidly,wildly, as if she lived in what she saw, or, what was doubtless truer,had lived in it and was but recalling her own past in one of thoseterrible hours of memory that recur on the border-land of dreams.
"I see a child, a girl. She is young; she is beautiful. Men love her,many men, but she loves only one. He is of the North; she is of theSouth. He is icy like his clime; she is fiery like her skies. The firecannot warm the ice. It is the ice puts out the fire! Woe! woe!"
The left hand came from the drapery; found its way to the left templeof the woman. But it, too, was ineffectual. Hurriedly, madly, the wordswent on, tripping each other up in their haste and passion. The voicenow became hoarse with rage.
"The girl is now a woman. A child is given her. The man demands thechild. She will not give it up. He curses it; he curses her, but she isfirm and holds it to her breast till her arms are blackened by the blowshe deals her. Then he curses her _country_, the land that gave her a_heart_; and, hearing this, she rises up and curses him and his with anoath the Lord will hear and answer from His judgment throne. _For thechild was slain between them_ and its pitiful, small body blocks thepassage of Mercy between his and hers forever. Woe! woe!"
As suddenly as the vehement change had come upon her, she had becomecalm again. The eyes retained their stony stare, but a cold and cruelsmile formed about her lips, as if, with the utterance of that lastword, she saw a futurity of blood and carnage satisfying her ferocioussoul.
It was revolting, horrible; but no one else seemed to feel it as I did.To most it was a short glimpse into a suffering soul. To me it was therevelation of causes which had led, and would lead yet, to miseries forwhich she had no pity, and which I felt myself too weak to avert.
That it was not intended that the devotees of Madame should have heardthese ravings was evident; for at this juncture the owner of the twowhite hands that had failed to control the spirit of Madame came outfrom behind the drapery of the dais. He proved to be none other thanthe man with the bristling mustache whose plans I had disarranged at thedoctor's office by plugging the keyhole of the box with wax.
This was enough. "Chicanery!" was my inmost thought as I noted his cooland calculating eye. "But very dangerous chicanery," I added. Was thering upon whose immediate capture I now saw that a life, if not lives,depended, in his possession, or in that of Madame, or in that of theQuaker-like girl sitting a few seats from me? How impossible to tell,and yet how imperative to know! As I was debating how this could bebrought about, I watched the man.
Self-control was a habit with him, but I saw the nervous clutch of hisdelicate hand. This did not indicate complete mastery of himself atthat moment. He spoke with care, but as if he were in haste to deliverhimself of the few necessary words of dismissal, without betraying hislack of composure.
"Madame will awake presently; she will be heard no more to-day. Thosewho wish to kiss her robes may pass in front of her; but she is stilltoo far away from earth to hear your voices or to answer any questions.You will therefore preserve silence."
So! so! more chicanery. Or was it strategy, pure and simple? Was thereat the bottom of his words the wish to see me nearer or was he justplaying with the credulity of such believers as the man next me, forinstance? I did not stop to determine. My anxiety to see Madame, withoutthe illusion of even the short distance between us, induced me to jointhe file of the faithful who were slowly approaching the seated woman.I would not kiss her robes, but I would look into her eyes and make surethat she was as far away from us all as she was said to be.
But as I drew nearer to her I forgot all about her eyes in the interestawakened by her hands. And when it came my turn to pause before her,it was upon the middle finger of her right hand my eyes were fixed. Forthere I saw THE RING; the veritable ring of my fair neighbor, if thedescription given by her was correct.
To see it there was to have it; or so I vowed in my surprise andself-confidence. Putting on an air of great dignity, I bowed to thewoman and passed on, resolving upon the course I would pursue, whichmust necessarily be daring in order to succeed. At the door I pausedtill all who followed me had passed out; then I turned back, and onceagain faced Madame.
She was alone. Her watchful guardian had left her side, and to allappearances the room. The opportunity surpassed my expectations, andwith a step full of nerve I pushed forward and took my stand againdirectly in front of her. She gave no token of seeing me; but I did nothesitate on that account. Exerting all my will power, I first subjectedher to a long and masterful look, and then I spoke, directly and to thepoint, like one who felt himself her superior,
"Madame," said I, "the man you wish for is here. Give me the ring, andtrust no more to weak or false emissaries."
The start with which she came to life, or to the evidence of life,was surprising. Lifting her great lids, she returned my gaze with oneequally searching and powerful, and seeing with what disdain I sustainedit, allowed an almost imperceptible tremor to pass across her face,which up to now had not displayed the shadow even of an emotion.
"You!" she murmured, in a dove-like tone of voice; "who are you that Ishould trust you more than the others?"
"I am he you expect," said I, venturing more as I felt her impassibilitygiving way before me. "Have you had no premonition of my coming? Did younot know that he who controls would be in your presence to-day?"
She trembled, and her fingers almost unclasped from her arms.
"I have had dreams," she murmured, "but I have been bidden to beware ofdreams. If you are the person you claim to be, you will have some tokenwhich will absolve me from the charge of credulity. What is your token?"
Though doubtful, I dared not hesitate. "This,"
I said, taking from mypocket the key which had been given me by my fair neighbor.
She moved, she touched it with a finger; then she eyed me again.
"Others have keys," said she, "but they fail in the opening. How are youbetter than they?"
"You know," I declared--"you know that I can do what others have failedin. Give me the ring."
The force, the assurance with which I uttered this command moved her inspite of herself. She trembled, gave me one final, searching look, andslowly began to pull the ring from off her finger. It was in her hand,and half way to mine, when a third voice came to break the spell.
"Madame, Madame," it said; "be careful. This is the man who clogged thelock, and hindered my endeavors in your behalf in the doctor's office."
Her hand which was so near mine drew back; but I was too quick and toodetermined for her. I snatched the ring before she could replace it onher own hand, and, holding it firmly, faced the intruder with an air ofvery well-assumed disdain.
"Attempt no argument with me. It was because I saw your weaknessand vulgar self-confidence that I interfered in a matter only to beundertaken by one upon whom all can rely. Now that I have the ring,the end is near. Madame, be wiser in the choice of your confidants,_To-morrow this ring will be in its proper place_."
Bowing as I had done before, I advanced to the door. They had made noeffort to regain the ring, and I felt that my rashness had stood me ingood stead. But as, with a secret elation I was just capable of keepingwithin bounds, I put my foot across the threshold, I heard behind me alaugh so triumphant and mocking that I felt struck with consternation;and, glancing down into my hand, I saw that I held, not the peculiarsteel circlet destined for the piece of mechanism in the doctor'soffice, but an ordinary ring of gold.
She had offered me the wrong ring, _and I had taken it_, thus provingthe falsity of my pretensions.
There was nothing left for me but to acknowledge defeat by anignominious departure.
The Bronze Hand Page 3
