Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 August 1900 — Twixt Life and Death [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Twixt Life and Death

BY FRANK BARRETT

CHAPTER Vll.—(Continued.) His wife pushed angrily past him as the light fell on the shoe. He hurried after her, sick with the dread of being there alone. They stopped on the lauding below, holding their breath to listen. They heard nothing but the rushing of the blood in their ears. They were under a terrible fascination, possessed by an irresistible anxiety to catch the sounds that in anticipation terrified them. They entered an adjoining room, treading noiselessly, as if a sleeper were there whom they feared to wake. He set down the light upon the table. There was a bottle of whisky there, but he could not find the force to till the tumbler that s stood beside it. She, less irresolute, poured some water into the basin and sponged her face, attributing her weakness and sense of suffocation to the closeness of the night. Suddenly Mr. Redmond started nnd turned to his wife with gaping mouth. Her lip, too, had fallen. They had both heard it-—a sound; but not that they listened for. Somebody was moving downstairs. * A step in the hall! Silence! Another step! Silence! Husband and wife staring at each other aghast, without realizing the cause of their terror. A sharp rap, tap, tap! Somebody must be knocking at the Indi door with a stick. It occurred to Mrs. Redmond that the hall door had been left open to admit nir; It was obvious someone had come into the house. But she still sat spellbound with a nameless fear. Another interval of silence, brief in itself, yet painfully . protracted to the two conscience-stricken wretches; then the handle of a door turned. “You must go down and see who it is,” Mrs. Redinend said. Her husband shrank back, shaking his head. She snatched up the light nnd went out of the room. Then he crept after her. Better be down there than be found quivering up here, if that cry came, and this visitor should rush up to' discover the cause. ft was Dr. Shaw. He had walked into the living room, seeing a light there. His first words when he saw Mrs. Redmond were: "Good gracious, madam! What is the mutter?” lie hftd never before seen her without color on her face. But even color would not have disguised her agitation from his penetrating eyes. She made some excuse about the weather and her nerves, with as much ■elf-composure as she could assume. Just then Redmond, reassured by her tone of voice, ventured into the room. The two ghastly faces presented a curious spectacle to the student of physiognomy, and excited odd speculations. "The weather seems to have affected you also, Mr. Redmond,” said the doctor, taking his limp, wet hand. Redmond faltered a perfectly unintelligible answer. "If they had been doing a murder they couldn’t look more guilty,” said the doctor to himself, dropping Redmond's bund with inward disgust, and seating himself. "We didn’t hope to see you so late," said Mrs. Redmond, with an effort. “It is late,” assented Dr. Shaw, looking at bis watch. "Half-past nine.” Only half-past nine! It should have been past midnight by the feelings of the woman and her husband. "My round has been long; I was kept In the village," the doctor continued. "How is the girl?" “I have sent her to bed," Mrs. Redmond answered, recollecting Emma for the first time. "I think 1 frightened myself for nothing. It is only a bilious attack, nnd I am sorry I troubled you to come out of your way, doctor.” Dr. Shaw accepted the apology with n bond of tlie head. "And my other patient—the somnambulist?” The doctor addressed the woman, but his eye was on the man, who, with his bend turned a little on one side, seemed to be listening, and with an intense concentration of his faculties that totally alienated his mind from other considerations. The doctor asked himself what on earth the man had been doing, with a perfect certainty that ho was in mortal dread of discovery. “Rhe, too, hn« gone to lie down.” said Mrs. Redmond, in reply to the doctor’s question. “Ihdced, 1 left her in her room aouud asleep, thanks to your mixture.” If she had been mistress of herself she would never have said that. But her mind was not proof against the terrible strain put upon it. It was only too clear’ that the doctor's suspicion was aroused by the abject terror and mental collapse of her husband. She repented her words the moment they were apoken. “My mixture!” he exclaimed, turning his eyes shandy upon her. Hi' quick glance, following a movement of her hand, fell on the bottle that stood on the ln«np with a wine glass beside it. There was n milky sediment nt the bottom of both; If any color had been precipitated from the mixture he gave it should have been pink. “Yes, your mixture, doctor," she said, putting her elbow on the table and trying to fix bis eye with hers. He saw what she was about to do—abe intended by a backward movement of her arm to sweep bottle and gluss from the table as If by accident. Without a moment's hesitation he put out hia hand and took the bottle. "You have ix-en tampering with this,” ba said, putting the bottle to his nose. "What do you mean, Dr. Bhnw?” she aaked, rising with an air of indignation. “I mean what 1 say. You have been tampering with the mixture I gave. This bottle contained nothing but peppermint ■nd water thia morning. There is chloral In it now, and in this also," be added, taking up the -glaaa. “Are you aware that in certain circumstances It is felony to administer a drug of this kind F’ "How do you know It has been administered?" “By this bottle. There would havs been

no necessity to refill it if the chloral hud been taken voluntarily. Mr. Redmond,” ho said, turning round sharply, “I address myself to you. I must see the young lady at once; where is she?" Redmond was standiug as if petrified, with his livid face toward the half-open-ed door. The doctor’s address made not the slightest impression on him. Glancing at Mrs. Redmond, he found her face nlso blank with some unaccountable dianmy._ What was the matter with them both, he asked himself. There was a sound outside beyond the hail at the foot of the tower ; that was what riveted them. Was it all ovdt? Had Nessa fallen without a cry? The doctor who had fastened his cob by the rein to a loose ring in the gatehouse, might have beard the movement, but certainly he could not have imagined that the speechless consternation of this man and woman was due to such a trifle. Their attitude was inexplicable to him. One thing, however, was clear; he must look after the poor girl that Mrs. Redmond in perverse stupidity had been dosing. He made a movement toward the door. Dread of discovery brought Redmond in a moment to his senses. "Where are you going?” he asked, with the energy of desperation. "I am going to find the young lady your wife has drugged.” “You cannot see her. I forbid you to go to her.” "But I insist upon seeing her. Do you know that a dose of this stuff is enough to paralyze a feeble heart and cause death?" He would have passed by, but Redmond chitchtd bis arm and held him .back, crying, incoherently: “You shall not go up. This is my house. I forbid you. I’m a dangerous man. I'll kill you if you attempt it.” The doctor looked at him keenly. It was clear enough he meant what he said; there was murder in his eyes, and he was a powerful man. “Very good,” said he, disengaging his arm. “I shall not put your threat to the test. T have done all that professional duty requires, but I warn you that if anything happens to that young lady you will have to answer for neglecting my warning; and you,” he added, turning to Mrs. Redmond, and -showing the bottle he held in-his hand, “for this!” He passed alone through the hall and out through the door under the gatehouse. But he turned his back on the place with an uneasy conscience—an assertive conviction that something more than professional duty called for his Interference in behalf of Nessa. He felt that he was a coward to leave her thus nt the mercy of the man nnd woman whose murderous character was stamped upon their faces. Turning in his saddle as his horse walked noiselessly over the grass-grown drive, he saw the house standing in a somber mass, the towers nnd gables sharply defined against the light of the moon rising beyond*. “•’lThr flesh crept with the suspicion,' almost amounting to certainty, that at this very moment that young girl whose vivacity and brightness had charmed him in the morning, was being murdered. And just then n faint sound reached his ear; it might have been a night-bird's cry or the muffled shriek for help of a girl’s voice. He stopped his horse involuntarily and listened. The cry was not repeated, nor did the rustling of a leaf break the dead silence; but be thought he descried a man's figure crossing the dark lawn stealthily toward him. Craven fear shook him. "It was fancy," he said to himself, and digging his heels into the cob’s side he escaped. CHAPTER VIII. The long-expected sound had come—a despairing cry, an audible fall within the empty tower. Prepared as they were, Redmond nnd his wife heard it with convulsive start and a sudden check in their breathing; their eyes met in a glance of mutual intelligence. Spurred to desperation by the sense of danger, Redmond needed no prompting from his wife. He slipped into the hall, and taking down his gun from the rack, made his way rapidly to the front of the house. The doctor had pulled up, and stood out clear enough beyond the shadows of the building. He was within range, but Redmond hesitated to fire, doubting if he could kill at that distance’ Clearly he bad hoard the cry; it would be fatal to let him escape with a wound. Redmond made n couple of quick, cautious steps forward, crouching down, and trusting to the deep shadow of the house to avoid discovery. Suddenly the horse started, and the next minute the doctor was lost to sight in the darkness of the avenue. What was to be done now? Two things were obvious; the doctor had heard Nessa's cry, and seen him. It was hardly less certain that he had gone off nt a gallop to raise the alarm and procure assistance.

To go back to the bouse, and be taken there li!|e a rat in a trap, was madness. With speed he might get to Liillingford In time to catch the last train; that would enable him to get on to Liverpool, where the morning papers would tel) him whether the murder had been discovered. From Liverpool he could get away in the first outward-bound vessel, and save hia neck. Without another thought he threw down hia gun and bolted. Meanwhile, what had happened to Nossn? A strange Hinging and throbbing in her ears accompanied the first return of consciousness, and with that a bewildering inability to remember anything, and to realize her present position. It seemed to her that she wus revolving with prodigious velocity in some piece of machinery; that in some way aecotmtcd for the linei and flashes of colored light that passed before her eyes, the feeling of sickness, and giddiness, the burning nnd throbbing in her oars, the confusion of ideas, and the incapacity to diatinfuisb

any object save patches and streaks of color. Then she became conscious that het eyes were closed, and that a sharp projection was pressing the back of her head. With the effort to open her eyes and move her head, a new phenomenon became evident; her will was powerless to influence a muscle of her body. It was as if she had been plunged into a bath of liquid plaster nnd it had hardened. She lay exhausted on the border of insanity, her power of reasoning dissipated in a delirious tumult of -recollections and fancies; and then, in frantic desperation, she strove again to open her eyes. The lid rose feebly, the ball of. the eye rolled down, and she saw—what? a spark of light. She kept her eye fixed with the strenuous energy of despair, too overjoyed at tiie victory she had won to cure or think what the rich gold spark was that she saw. After awhile she determined that it must be a star in the heavens, and that the black silhouette standing out against the lighter background must be foliage. She strained her eyes, and reasoned until she came to perceive that the foliage was ivy, and that she must be lying in the open air. But where, where? By another fierce effort she moved one foot. It slipped from its resting place on the sill, and fell down till it struck heavily agninst one of the rotten joists. It was all a mystery to her; but it was with ecstasy of delight she found that her limhs were free, and that she was recovering the use of her will. Next she coir centrated her energy into a movement of the hand, on the same side as the foot which she had released. That fell down, too, her arm dropping from the shoulder as if it were lend. Her strength was just sufficient to enable her to pass her fingers feebly along the bricks against which it rested. She felt that there was .lamp moss there. Suddenly there came into her mind something like an approximation to the truth. By some means she had come in her sleep to lie down there, and it seemed to her that this must be the parapet that she had observed running under her window. With that conviction came a consciousness of her perilous position, and she concluded that her foot and arm must be hanging over the side of the parapet. Now all her endeavor was to draw back her arms and foot. Under the continued strain her muscles were awaking to their duty. She lifted her hand up with comparatively little difficulty; but her foot was still numb and weak. Summoning all her faculties to the effort, she pushed with the lower foot to get herself further from the treacherous edge. She thought she was succeeding ns her leg straightened out; but a crumbling, grating sound proved soon enough that it was the support that moved—not she. With a sudden crash it siid away and fell grinding against the wall down, till it struck the bottom far below with a dull smash. As her foot fell it seemed to her that the weight must drag her down, and terror gave, sound to her voice. She screamed aloud, at the same time straining to maintain that rigidity which she had previously striven to overcome. She knew that she owed her escape to this, that she lay upon a narrow and treacherous ledge between two blocks of masonry, and that, while she could keep tightly wedged there, and perfectly still, she was safe. All depended upon her holding her foot firmly against one side and her shoulders against the other. A cold faintness, the beginning of unconsciousness, crept upon her as she lay there pnntiijg, with wild terrors whirling through her 1 brain and sapping her selfcontrol. Oh, nothing could save her. That thought brought again a faint, despairing cry from her quivering lips. “What was that? A footstep near her? A sound like a bolt being drawn in its rusty holdfast? The door swhng back, she rolled heavily over at Mrs. Redmond’s feet and lay there so still that the woman believed that the fright had killed her. (To be continued.)