Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 August 1900 — Twixt Life and Death [ARTICLE]

Twixt Life and Death

BY FRANK BARRETT

CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) As soon as she was out of sight Mrs. Redmond took the letters up to her room, where her husband was sitting in a dressing gown, with a bottle of whisky and a sporting paper for refreshment. She laid the letters side by side on the table with the flaps upward, soaked a handkerchief and spread it carefully over them. Then she began to dress. Taking off the handkerchief ten minutes later she found that the-flaps yielded to the insertion of a knife blade. “Open them and rend what she has been writing about,” she said in a whisper to her huslxind. Redmond, who had been watching the proceeding in silence, obeyed, .r “Does she talk about walking in her sleep?” the woman asked. “Oh. yes; something about it ip everyone of them.” Mrs. Redmond expressed her satisfaction with a nod. “No suspicion that she has been deceived ?2---"Nos a word.” “That will all serve ns evidence on our Bide if there should be any question. Close the letters carefully and send them over to the post, when we are gone, I’m going to take her over to Dr. Shaw. She ' must have something to take—a mixture ftf some kind.” She was standing beside Redmond, plaiting her hair, as ho replaced the letters and closed the envelopes. He nodded without looking up. . “It will have to lie done to-night for certain,” she continued. "You can settle where she’s to fall from. We shall be back about four. You’d better keep* out of the way till you're wanted.” Redmond's hands trembled so violently that he had to lay down the letter he was trying to inclose. Mrs. Redmond turned from him in silence with a contemptuous jerk of her head. When she looked in the glass to see «f her hair was all right, she caught a glimpse of him wiping the perspiration from his livid face with a handkerchief. “Remember,” she said, going back to him, “there’s no shuffling out of this. It's your only e»ca]>e from the gaol and the workhouse. If you're not here when the time comes I’ll take the girl away and set the lawyers to work.”

CHAPTER VI. When Mrs. Redmond reached Dr. Shaw’s house, the physician resigned himself to the inevitable. Not a week passed without a visit from this woman upon some imaginary ailment of her own or Emma's. He listened, his eyes resting on the paper knife he toyed in his long fingers, but his thoughts were chiefly occupied with Nessa. Who was she? How had she fallen into the hands of Mrs. Redmond? What was the painted woman doing with this fresh, innocent girl? What on earth were the girl's friends about to let her associate with this woman? He disliked Mrs. Redmond. He knew her, and wondered how anyone else could fail to see her deceitfulness through the palpable mask of paint and dye and society manners. “It’s an ordinary bilious attack—nothing more,” he said, looking up, his eyes resting first on Nessa, as Mrs. Redmond concluded her account of Emma’s symptoms. “I believe it is the beginning of fever, f must beg you to come and see her. If it is anything catching I must send her away to her friends at once.” “I am very much occupied. However, if you insist, I will do my best to call in the course of the day.” “Oh. thanks, awfully—thanks'. And now. doctor, I wish you to prescribe for this young lady,” Mrs. Redmond said, laying her hand on Nesa’s arm. Dr. Shaw looked sharply at the girl, who sect ted no less astonished than himself by thi demand. He smiled a? Nessa’s surprise gave way to uncontrollable mirth. “There’s nothing whatever to laugh at," said Mrs. Redmond. “It is not natural. and it is certainly dangerous for a young girl to walk in her sleep.” The doctor assented to this, and listened with serious attention to Mrs. Redmond’s account of the affair, while Nessa sat with head bent, amused and vexed by turns. It was so ridiculous to make a fuss about such a trifle. She raised her head, and met the doctor’s eyes, blushing as if she bad committed a fault when he spoke to her. “You do not look a likely subject for nervous disorders of this kind,” he said, kindly. “I am sure I have never misbehaved myself before—in that way,” she replied, with a laugh. "You have never been so violently excited as you were yesterday and the day before,” suggested Mrs. Redmond. Nessa admitted that this was true. “Of course,” said Dr. Shaw, “great aud unusual mental excitement might account for a case of this kind, but I really see no cause for serious alarm. There Is no reason to fear a repetition of the attack, especially it the excitement abates.” “But the excitement may not abate—the attack may be repeated,” insisted Mrs. Redmond. "Then you had better have someone to sleep in the same rpom for a few nights." "I couldn’t. I should never be able to close my eyes for fear of something happening. And you cannot expect me to put a servant in the room who la probably sickening for some horrid, infectious complaint. Surely you can give something to produce sleep.” The doctor reflected a moment. What was he to do with this obstinate fool of a woman? It was impossible to convince her that Nessa would be better without the use of drugs. If he refused to administer anything, he was perfectly sure that she would go to the chemist and procure some poisonous stuff, such as she herself was in the habit of taking—a concoction strong enough to half kill a young girt unaccustomed to the use of narcot-

les. The best way was to comply with the request, and practice a harmless deception. With this conclusion he rose, saying that possibly a mild sedative might have asgood effect, and left the ladies for a minutes. “It will do you no harm to take this before going to bed,” he said, putting a bottle wrapped in white paper into Nessa's hand. That was true enough; the bottle contained nothing but pure water tinctured with cochineal aud disguised with peppermint. Mrs. Redmond went away triumphant. But she was not simple enough to Udieve that she had overcome the doctor’s scruples. When they returned to the Towers, and she was alone in her room, she took the bottle from her sealskin bag, in which she had put it "for safety,” removed the paper carefully, and poured away the pink liquid. She refilled the bottle from one of her own. The efficacy of that mixture in producing sleep ijhe knew. “Dr. Shaw is responsible for whatever happens-now’,” she said to herself, as she wrapped the bottle in the paper she had taken it from. Upstairs, after dinner, Mrs. Redmond found her husband, with a face the color of lead, pacing the bedroom. “Are you ready?" she asked in a low tone, as she took tip the sealskin bag. He nodded in silence; and then, overcoming the difficulty of speaking, he faltered: “For heaven’s sake;’be quick. This is 'torment 1” , She scanned the quaking coward from head to foot, and, seeing his irresolution, thought it advisable on quitting the room to turn the key upon him. Downstairs she found Nessa sitting in the gloaming by the open window, aud for the first time that day looking grave. Her mind seemed to have taken on the subdued tone of the trees and sky. Night was falling upon her. Mrs. Redmond sat down in the chair opposite, the bag in her lap. “Why, how’ awfully solemn you look!” she exclaimed. “Tvo been thinking,” said Nessa; and then, in a tone of interrogation, she added, “Mr. Redmond Has not come home?” “No; surely he has nothing to do with your gravity.” “Yes, it has. I want to see him. I have something to say.” Mrs. Redmond laughed. “Of course you have, my dear; so have I, he’s perfectly aware of that, and keeps out of our way in consequence.” “But I want to apologize to him,” said Nessa, quietly. “Apologize!” exclaimed Mrs. Redmond, with superb disdain. “I never apologized to anyone in all my life!” “Not when you had to acknowledge yourself in the wrong?” “I never did have to acknowledge myself in the wrong, my dear.” “How nice!” said Nessa. naively, with a sigh. “I’m always doing wrong, an finding out just when it's too late to be undone. I have wronged him. Oh, you don’t know what dreadful things I thought he might be guilty of doing—the most horrible wickedness.” "And pray what reason have you to change your opinion?” “Why, surely a man who is afraid to face a school girl cannot be capable of such desperate designs?” Mrs. Redmond made no response, but sat nursing her knee, and eying, sidelong, the girl who had fallen into a reverie. Then she pressed the fastening of her bag. It opened with a snap that aroused Nessa from her meditations. "My dear, we were both going to sleep, I do believe,” said Mrs. Redmond. “Get a glass. Here’s the mixture Dr. Shaw told you to take.” It had grown so dark that they had to light the lamp to find a clean glass. Mrs. Redmond poured out the drug, Nessa holding the glass, laughing ami protesting. When the bottle was emptied, Nessa, with a wry face lifted the glass to her lips and drained off the syrup. “But it’s too early to go to bed yet,” she said, setting down the empty glass. “Oh, yes. We will sit down and have a good long chat.” They sat down; but soon Nessa found her friend’s light gossip unaccountably inaudible, while an insurmountable I drowsiness crept upon her senses. Mrs. Redmond watched her keenly, and chatted on until the girl’s lids dropped. “You had better go up to your room, dear.” Nessa roused herself with an effort, and in a state of stupor submitted to be guided upstairs. When they were in the little bedroom she sat down on the bed, and, with a last effort of consciousness’ threw her arms about her friend’s neck and kissed her. Mrs. Redmond did not consider it necessary to return the kisfS, for Nessa was already asleep and the next moment slipped sidelong heavily upon the bed. She stood over her in the dim light for some minutes. Then she raised the sleeping girl’s arm and let it drop. It fell inert. She shook her. Nessa made no sign of consciousness. Mrs. Redmond went downstairs and unlocked the door of her room. Her husband stood against the window—his figure just visible in silhouette against the gray light. Mrs. Redmond lit a candle. “Come on,” she said, beckoning him from the door. He followed her automatically up the stairs. CHAPTER VII. Nessa lay where she had sank, her cheek pressing the pillow, her head thrown backward toward the wall. She breathed inaudibly. Mrs. Redmond brought the light close to her eyes; the lids, slightly parted, showed the blank, white body of the upturned ball under the long, curved fringe of the lashes, but they made no movement. “Come on! Do your work!” said Mrs. Redmond.

Her husband drew back to the door, beckoning her. “Where’s the girl?” he asked in a whisper when she joined him. “In her bedroom and asleep this last half hour." “I shan’t do it on the parapet. I looked at it ’ this morning. It isn’t naturrW that she should get out of the window. “Where shall you pot her, then?” He pointed down the corridor. “Is it all ready?” “Give me the light.” He took the candle, and she followed him down the corridor, away from the staircase and toward the unoccupied side of the house. Beyond Nessa’s room *the wainscoted wajls were gray with the dust of years. Cobwebs tapestried the angles of the unused doors and hung in ragged festoons from the low ceiling. At the further end there were signs of humidity; the boards yielded to the pressure of the foot; there was a growth of crimpled yellow fungus in the old molding of the lower wainscot panels. The old door that closed the corridor was green in one corner, where the rats had gnawed the rotten wood away and given passage to the damp air; a prismatic slime marked the course taken by a slug; the great hinges, the rivet heads, - the heavy bolt aud hand ring were crusted with red dust They stopped. Mrs. Redmond drew her skirts together and glanced to the right and left in horror. She had courage enough for murder, bnt went in mortal dread of a spider. Redmond pulled tire ring, and the door, grating hoarsely on its hinges, swung back against the wall, showing a space of impenetrable darkness beyond. He dropped on his knees and thrust out the hand that held the light, the candle flaring and flickering in the current of cold air. Mrs. Redmond stepped boldly to the doorsill and looked in. She now distinguished brickwork on the opposite side, and knew that this must be the tower of which she had heard. It had once been floored, but the roof had fallen In and broken away the rotten planks, leaving nothing but a couple of moldering crossbeams and a narrow ledge of crumbling woodwork just beyond the sill -“What is down there?” asked Mrs. Redmond. “Is it deep enough?”

Redmond took a brick from the debris that lay on the ledge and dropped it. One might have counted twenty before the hoilow sound that followed reached their cars. “That will do!” said the woman. They left the door open and returned to Nessa’s room. There Mrs. Redmond took the light and nodded to her husband to do his work. For a moment he hesitated, looking down on the sleeping girl and rubbing one clammy hand against the other, his mustache twitching with the convulsive movement of his lips; then, with the energy of desperation, he suddenly caught hold of her aud lifted her upon his shoulders. He carried Nessa down the corridor quickly, as if she had been a mere infaut. When his wife came up with the flickering light he laid the supine girl down ou the edge of the doorsill. That was not the easiest thing to do; it required dexterity and strength of no ordinary kind. The sill was not long enough to iay her oi;i at full length; her shoulders had to be raised and placed at the edge of the wall. Without a firm grip the flaccid body would have slipped from his hands; a clumsy movement would have broken away the rotten wood on which she rested. “That will do,” said he, when he had disposed of her to his satisfaction. “The slightest movement will finish her. If she only turns her head she must topple over.” He was still kneeling with his hand on Nessa’s shoulder. Mrs. Redmond bent down. “If a touch will do it, why not push her down and be done with it?’ she asked. “You do it.” “Not I,” she replied; “I’ve done my share. I’m not going to have a murder to answer for.” “Nor I either,” said he, taking the light roughly from her hand. They went back through the passage—he first; hastening to get away from the place and escape the awful sounds their ears were straining to catch. The panic was upon them both now. Neay Nessa’s empty room he stopped suddenly, catching his breath with a rattle in his parched throat. “What?” ejaculated she, clutching hia arm. It was a trifle —nothing. His foot had struck against the shoe that bad fallen from Nessa’s foot as he carried her along. Yet this little thing had crisped the hair on his head and paralyzed him for ths moment. (To be continued.)