Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 34, Number 88, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 July 1902 — HE WOMAN IN GRAY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

HE WOMAN IN GRAY

BY ROBERT ESTES DURAND.

CHAPTER XVlll.—(Continued.) “In the first place, it struck us all that It was ar strange thing that the head should have been cut off. There seemed no motive for such mutilation, unless to render identification difficult, in which case the clothing and jewelry might also easily have been removed; or unless there were a plot to make it appear that the body of a stranger was that of Miss Wynne. After the finding of the body,” I went on, “it occurred to me to try and put on the foot of the dead woman one of the shoes which had been found stuffed inside the crown of the hat. Even allowing for the swelling of the flesh, the body having been for some time in the water, it was evident that the shoes—which I can state upon ohth were those which Miss Wynne wore on the afternoon of her disappearance—would in any case have been several sizes too small. The woman whose body was found in the moat, though of much the same height and general build as-Miss Wynne, had feet which were considerably larger. And this was also true of the hands, for, allowing for sweling, as with the feet, there were signs that the skin had been torn in forcing on the rings." “I think it is impossible to rely upon any evidence of this sort," one juryman said audibly to another. My heart sank a little, but still I went on: ‘ “When my uncle, Sir Wilfrid Amory, took us under his care we were both children, and played constantly together. It was in Sussex, one day, when Miss Wynne was almost 8 and I 12 or 13, that we were wading barefooted in a brook,

and my cousin, stepping on a sharp stone, hurt herself seriously. She was unable to walk for some time, and when she did recover a sear was left on the sole of her right fobt, which in those days she very often displayed to me. It is not now more than six months ago that the old episode happened to come up in the course of conversation, and my cousin assured me that the scar Was still as strongly marked as it had ever been. It was peculiar, and unmistakable, at least two inches in.length—a dead white seam, jagged as the teeth of a saw. “I very carefully examined the feet of the body now lying in this house, and on neither is there any sear whatever.” There was a visible stir among the jurymen. I paused for an instant, and was asked by the coroner if this piece of evidence completed my statement. “No,” I returned, “I have still something else to say, of equal, if not more, importance.” Deliberately I removed the gold links from my cuff and pulled up the sleeve of my right arm. Between the wrist and elbow, an anchor and heart, neatly tattooed in blue ink, were distinctly to be seen. “I learned the trick of doing this sort of thing from an old sailor when I was a boy," I said. "I did this tattooing myself, and my cousin insisted upon having a design of the same kind on the inner side of her right arm, above the bend of the elbow. And now, if you will have the doctor who examined the body recalled, you will hear from him the confirmation of my words—that there Is wo soar upon the foot, nor stain of tattooing upon either arm.” I had finished; I had said all that 1 meant to say, and I felt that the aspect of the case was changed: but, still, the time which intervened before the finding of the verdict passed more heavily than any moments my life had ever known. At last it came. "Murder, by a person or persons unknown, upon the body of a woman unknown.” “Thank heaven!” said Uncle Wilfrid, beneath his breath. But Haynes-Havi-land did not fspeak. He went up to my uncle and spook hands, but there was that in his face which contradicted the cordiality of his action. “Terry," Uncle Wilfrid said, “I did mean to be the one to tell Consuelo. But, on second thoughts, I would prefer it to be you. Go to her, and put an end to her suspense.” I knocked at her boudoir, and Consuelo herself opened the door. “I have good news,” I said, and told her what the verdict had been. She took it calmly; but she held out both her hands.

“And for it all I have to thank you,” she said. “Once you saved ray life. Now you have saved what is worth more to me and to those who care for me. What reward will you have?” “I have done nothing,” I returned. “I do not want, much less ask, a reward." "But if I offer it to you?” My pulses leaped. "Then, there is but one thing on earth 1 have begged of you, and—you refused it. Do you still refuse?" “How can I tell, unless you ask it of me again?” “You told me that was what must do.” “But I am a woman. May I not change my mind?” “Consuelo, give me your love." “What if I promised you my love, and could not promise that you and I should ever be more to each other than we are at this moment?" Her hand wns on my breast, holding me at arm's length, when I would have come nearer than I had ever dared to do before. “I should consider myself the happiest man alive to have won that inestimable gift. Is there any hope that I may win itr , “You never knew that—it sas already won,” she said, in a low voice. "But your cousin Paula knew. Women'are wiser In such matters than men." "You love me!" I cried; ‘‘then 1 shall never cess* to hope, I shall never rest, I shall move heaven and earth until 1 have gained all.” “To gain all you must indeed move heaven and earth,” she echoed, “for there are obstacles you do not dream of in the way." “I shall beat them down," I exclaimed

buoyantly. “Now that you have told me you love me, what obstacle is mighty enough to stand between you and me?” “Mr. Thomas Gordon!” announced a footman, appearing at the door.

CHAPTER XIX. He had been at Martenhead all day, it seemed, and had now come with •congratulations. But I could see that his sudden appearance had depressed Consuelo. Both ladies retired especially early that night. I had hoped for a few more moments of heaven with Consuelo, but I was denied them. She was very tired, she said, and her face confirmed her words. For long I sat brooding, and at 1:30*1 got up with a sudden inspiration for a stroll to the river side before going to bed. I had scarcely stepped out into the white purity of the night when two voices made themselves audible —Consuelo’s and Miss Traill’s. They were on the other side of the huge tree, out of my sight, as I was out of theirs. “Are you sure he is coming?" said the Woman in Gray. v “Well, one is never sure of anything that he is going to do; as I’ve told you before, I can’t control him.” “You will be very foolish if you don’t pay this price. But, see, here he comes. I’m sure it must be he.” I lay still on the rustic seat under the black shadow of the cedar. “It is he,” I heard Mis Traill say. “He would prefer doing business with you alone.” The man I could not see, but I knew that he had come, for the Woman in Gray spoke haughtily, breathing the one word: “Well?” “Well," repeated a heavy masculine voice, with an Unpleasant provincial drawl. “I’ve heard from Naomi, and I’ve come to see if I can’t get you to consider' matters. You’d better, ypu know, for you are under my thumb; and if you don’t do what we want, you can guess what the consequences will be." A word or two more I caught, and then they walked away beyond hearing. I was glad of this. never once did I remove my eyes from the short, squat form of the man. Moments elapsed. Sometimes the two strangely assorted companions glided on side by side; sometimes they paused, in earnest conversation. But at last, with a gesture which seemed to tell of utter desperation, the Woman in Gray hurried swiftly away without one backward look. She was evidently going to the house, and at first I feared the man would follow her. But he did not do so. He stood still, his chin sunk into the hollow of his hand, the moonlight shining full upon him. For several minutes he appeared to reflect, and then began walking toward the gate. It would have been easy for me to follow and catch up with him, but this I did not wish to do. I wanted to follow him to his lair, wherever that might be, and, if possible, discover something so much to his disadvantage that he would be as completely in my power as he had persuaded Consuelo to believe she was in his.

My quarry slouched along the lawn until he struck into the avenue; then on again, until within fifty yards of the porter’s lodge, when he'took to the grass once more, and suddenly disappeared through an aperture in the thick hollyhedge, for which he had apparently intentionally been making. I gave him a start, and then plunged through the thicket. A long, straight road now stretched before us, extending on the one hand to Martenhead, on the other to a town of considerable size, called Witherton, about four miles off. For a few seconds he’ seemed undecided which way to go, then 0 turned in the direction of the latter place. At the station I managed to persuade the porter to sell me his overcoat, nnd had it buttoned upon me, when I saw my man going to the ticket office. I stood in the background while the fellow purchased a third single to Ralston. Getting into the train, I was glad to find that we had a carriage to ourselves, my unsuspecting quarry and I. I started a conversation, and, after a time, he said: “Ever heard of Sir Wilfrid Amory, who has lately bought a big place near Martenhead?” “Oh, yes—Lorn Abbey. I’ve heard his name.” “Ever seen a tall, fine-looking young woman he’s taken to live in his house? —adopted her for a daughter?” “She is already famous throughout the rotintry for her beauty." “She is good-looking. Better-looking than she used to be when I knowed her first.”

"Ah, you’re old friends, are you?” “Friends! Not much. You wouldn’t think, to look at me, if you have ever seen her, that wo could have much in common; but I tell you there aren’t many people on earth who know her as well a* me and mine do. She's cheated me out of my just dues. Thinks she's too high for me to hurt her. If I should so much as o[>cn my mouth about that pearl nritteu she wears on her hand by day and night, she'd be famous, I can tell you, for notify thing beside her beauty.” I could bear no more; patience and caution were gone like a flame blown out by a puff of wind. I was about to answer in a way which would have surprised him when, with a mighty shock and a wall which seemed to rise from the lips of every one among the hundreds of passengers, I was thrown headlong upon him, under a shower of splintering timbers add crashing glass, a thunder of sound breaking over me like the wives of ocean. After the shock catqp cessation Of all motion. I lay still for a moment. Then I looked out of what remained of the window, and saw that such passengers as could were swarming out from the wreck-

ed carriages in front and behind tae. The air was vocal with shouts and cries, and above all wffs the sound of escaping steam. I remembered my companion, and proceeded to unearth him from beneath a broken seat. His right leg was bent under him, and hung so limply that I was certain it must be broken. I had no friendly feeling for him, but I could not see him suffer. I soon brought him back to consciousness. A dozen or so among the passengers were injured, and when I had done whatever J could I got a doctor from the village to look after my charge. When his leg was set, he was able to tell us—a bit of information I received without surprise—that he was Jonas Heckleberryy of the Spider Farm, near Market I’eytou. The place was not more than fifteen miles away, the surgeon said, and the best thing for the sufferer would be to have him conveyed home at once. This task, with an imptflse which did not spring from charity, I took upon myself. By this time it was nearly 10 o’clock in the morning, the breakfast hour at Lorn Abby. Would Consuelo have thought of me, I asked myself, and wondered at the unexplained absence of her lover? The telegrams which I sent both to her and to Uncle Wilfrid from Ralston seemed cold and meaningless, and Consuelo’s I wrote and tore in pieces several times before I could satisfy myself. It was a four-mile drive from Market Peyton to the Spider Farm, and as 1 began to think we must be nearing the place I looked out with curiosity. Whatever there was that was “queer” about Jonas Heckleberry’s business I meant to know. Whatever might be learned against his character and pursuits I intended to have within my knowledge, that, if he lived and attempted again to trouble the Woman in Gray, I might be prepared to turn the tables upon him. The farm gate we got to at length, and I found to my -surprise that it was locked with a padlock, fastened to a chain. I easily vaulted over the five or six bars, however, and fancied I should have no difficulty, when the nature of my errand became known, in obtaining the key, that the carriage might be driven up to the house. ' The road inside the gate was thickly grass grown, as though a wagon but seldom passed over it, and the house itself, I soon saw, was a large and rambling one. Heavy wooden shutters were drawn over all the windows on the ground floor. I seized the rusty knocker, and beat out a summons which echoed dismally from room to room within. .... ' ' -■

In response came the baying of a dog, but there was no other sign that my loud knocking had been heard. Again I repeated it, and at last, discouraged, began pushing my way through the wilderness of weeds to the back of the house. I went to the left, and I had skirted the side of the building, and arrived at the back, when a movement at a half-shut-tered window attracted my attention. I stepped close up- to it, and peered inside. A face retreated, and another remained—a face unlike any that I had ever seen before. It was long, and covered with a series of flabby wrinkles bagging under deep-set, bloodshot eyes, and, though the cheeks were as dark as an Indian’s, the huge, prominent nose was a pale flesh-pink. At first,, as I peeped between the shutters, under a curtain of vines, into the darkness within, I believed this face to be human. But in an instant I saW“that it was that of an enormous dog of a breed I had never met with. Though the room into which I gazed was dark as looked into from outside, a cross-light from a half-open door revealed the figure of a little old vroman. On jied head was a great flapping cap; across her sunken breast a black-and-white check shawl was folded. A stray length of gray hair fell over a yellow, receding forehead, and I was struck with an eerie sensation as I observed how wonderfully alike were the two faces—that of the big dog and the tiny woman. Both were old, flabby, long-lipped, sunkeneyed, animal in expression, though, Indeed, it seemed to me that the dog’s was the more intelligent and benevolent of the two. “Don’t be alarmed!” I shouted. "1 have brought you news of Mr. Jonas Heckleberry. Pray come to the door, and let me have a few words with you.”

CHAPTER XX. My only answer was a rush for the ’door behind her, through which the uncanny creature retreated, loudly slamming it after her retiring form. I ran down the road to the gate where the landau awaited me, and wrenched off the chain. “Drive in,” I said, curtly. In a few more moments we had stopped at the back of the house, whither I had bidden the driver proceed, as I felt that I should not be able to break in that solid-looking door of oak nor unfasten the closely barred shuters. I proceeded forcibly to wrench up the lower sash of the window through which I had looked. • Hardly had I done so when the huge dog, which had been anxiously awuitiug its opportunity, leaped out. I stood ready, with my blood up, for the encounter, but with a snarl in my direction he sprang past me towards the landau, upon which he began to fawn, with whinings and contortions of his great body. Having made an opening for myself, I climbed through window and dropped down Into vast and gloomy kitchen. I stood still, staring, forgetting for the instant the errand upon which I had come, and then suddenly something-scut-tled across my feet.

It was a hairy-legged spider, with a fat, bloated body as large as a shilling piece. I sprang aside, for I had always had a loathing of spiders. Myriads of spiders limped or darted along the boards, and their crowding bodies and wriggling legs gave, from a distance, an effect as though the walls themselves had moved. With all speed I got myself out of the repulsive room, opening the door through which the old woman had disappeared. This, I found, led into a bare, wide passage with a stairway at one end. Half way up was a small landing, with a door and a window, past which I would have gone had not something sprung out at me with the unexpected viciousness of a jach-ln-ths-box. « _■ ** I had Just time to ward off a blow aimed With no less formidable weapon than n broken beaded ax; and then, quickly removing it from the withered little band that grasped it, I held at arm's length the old woman who had lately fled from me below stairs. “I am sorry," I saM, “to restrain your I freedom for a moment, nuidam. Only be

patient one moment, until I have Informed you 1 that Mr. Jonas Heckleberry—whom I can hardly be mistaken In supposing to be your son—is outside in the carriage you can see from this window, seriously injured in a railway accident.” I released her thin litle 'arm, which I had been tightly holding, and had the satisfaction of seeing her trot with youthful alacrity .down the stairs. I followed, and having seen her crooning over the half-conscious man, I found that opposite the horrible., room of darkness in which rioted the army of spiders was a second door, which V unceremoniously flung open, and found myself in a combination of kitchen and dining room. Here I dumped some bedding I had found upstairs, upon the ragged carpet. I hastened out to the landau. The old woman had chmbed in beside her son.j and was listening, with a quieter and saner expression than she had worn, to the mutterings which fell from his lips. (To be continued.)