THE SOMEWHAT PECULIAR PASTIME OF OUR HERO'S SECOND CLIENT
As he concluded, the stranger drew forth from a pocket in his coat a cylindrical box of ebony, carved into the most exquisite Oriental design. Unscrewing the lid of this receptacle, and tilting downward the box itself, he spilled out upon the table a set of ivory jack-straws of so marvellous a sort that Griscombe, in his wildest imaginings, could never have believed possible. Some of the straws were plain sticks of polished ivory: others were ornamented with heads or figures of wrought gold set with precious stones. Each of them was different from the other,—this a gryphon, that a serpent with distended crest, this a yawning tiger with diamond eyes, that an idol's head with a ruby tongue thrust from its gaping jaws.
The stranger either did not observe or did not choose to remark upon the extreme surprise that possessed his attorney. Offering his opponent a golden hook with a pearl handle, he invited him to open the game, into which he himself entered with every appearance of the most entire satisfaction and enjoyment.
In spite of his not infrequent indulgences, Griscombe was favored with extreme steadiness of nerve; and, though a casual acquaintance would never have accredited him with it, he possessed at once patience and perseverance to an extraordinary degree. But neither patience nor perseverance or steadiness of nerve was any match for the infinite skill and dexterity with which the stranger played his game. Griscombe was but a child in his hands, and the jack-straw player dallied with him as a cat dallies with a mouse. At the end of each round the stranger politely assured his opponent that he played naturally a very excellent game, and that in time and by practice he might eventually hope to become no inconsiderable adept at the sport. But these courteous expressions only declared to Griscombe how inadequate was his play, and at each repetition merely served to incite him to fresh endeavors.
At the end of an hour the stranger declared his appetite for the amusement to be satisfied; and, gathering up his jack-straws and replacing them in the ebony box, he thanked our hero most courteously for the entertainment he had offered him. Thereupon, resuming his cloak and hat which he had laid aside at the beginning of the game, he delivered a bow of the profoundest depth, and departed without another word, leaving the pile of gold pieces upon the table behind him, as though they were not worth any further attention.
Nor was it until he had fairly gone that Griscombe—with a shock that set every nerve tingling—recalled his precious chest and that inestimable treasure that had been deposited in his care, and which for all this time had been left unprotected and almost unthought of. At the recollection of this his heart seemed to stand still within him, and his ears began to hum and buzz, and a cold sweat stood out upon every pore of his body. For upon the instant it occurred to him that maybe this polite stranger with his marvellous jack-straws was merely a rook seeking to divert his attention while a confederate carried away the treasure box from the room beyond. With weak and trembling joints, and yet with hurried steps, he ran into the next room, and, falling upon his knees, gazed under the bed; and it was with a feeling of relief that well-nigh burst his heart that he discovered the object of his solicitude reposing exactly where he had placed it.
With a heart as light as a feather and with a rebound of excessive joy and delight at the thought of the additional fee of a thousand dollars he had just earned with such extreme ease and in so extraordinary a manner, he set himself in haste to dress for the journey that lay before him, finding it exceedingly difficult, in the lightness of heart that now possessed him, to direct a proper sobriety of attention to the possibly tragic fate that had maybe befallen his first unfortunate client since he had beheld him the night before.
With this concludes the second stage of our narrative, excepting to add that, when nine o'clock came, bringing no signs of his client, Griscombe crossed the ferry to Paulus Hook, where he found the post-chaise awaiting his arrival, exactly as his client had foretold. Entering this vehicle, our young lawyer immediately began that journey which he pursued with all diligence, stopping neither day nor night till he had arrived at his destination.
Our hero arrived at Bordentown early upon a clear and frosty winter morning with entire safety and success, and with no greater adventures befalling him than usually occur to the traveller in a private conveyance upon so considerable a journey. Nor had he the least difficulty in discovering Mr. Michael Desmond's address, that gentleman dwelling in one of the most palatial of those abodes that lend such an air of aristocratic distinction to the town.
Immediately, in reply to his request to see the master of the house, he was shown into the reception-room, where Mr. Desmond presently appeared, presenting to his astonished sight a person so exactly and minutely resembling his brother that, had Griscombe not known it to be otherwise, he would have believed them to have been the same individual.
The remarkable resemblance, however, did not extend deeper than the lineaments of the features; for, whereas the countenance of the first Mr. Desmond had been overclouded by an expression of the most sombre melancholy and the most overwhelming anxiety, the face of this gentleman beamed with courteous hospitality and generous welcome.
He still held in his hand the card which Griscombe had sent in to him by the servant; and, as he advanced with a smile of extreme cordiality illuminating his face, he cried, "I cannot, my dear Mr. Griscombe, be too much delighted that you have favored me with so early a call, since it will give me the pleasure of having you to breakfast and of introducing you to my daughter. I see from what you have written me upon your card that you come upon important business from my brother; but, before satisfying my curiosity upon that point, I shall insist that you first appease the craving of what must be a very hearty appetite after so long a journey."
Nor would he accept any refusal of his invitation, but, with polite determination, put aside every effort that Griscombe made to explain the pressing and tragic nature of his mission. "Nay," he cried, as Griscombe continued to urge upon him the importance of his affair, "I insist that you say no more at present. I am perfectly well aware with what an extreme degree of exaggeration a young lawyer regards a commission that may very easily wait for breakfast. I am determined that you first satisfy your appetite, and then your sense of duty."
And so, protesting and insisting, he led our reluctant hero by the hand until he at last introduced him into a spacious and sunlit dining-room, rendered additionally cheerful by a large fire of cedar logs that crackled in the marble fireplace. Here a table spread with snowy napery and sparkling with crystal and silver was prepared for an ample breakfast; and, as they entered, the slender and graceful figure of a young lady, clad entirely in white, arose from where she sat at the head of the board behind the tea-urn. In response to her father's introduction, she replied to our young gentleman's profound bow with all the ease and dignity of deportment imaginable.
At that time Miss Arabella Desmond was one of the most perfect beauties in the United States. With a figure of rounded yet slender contour, she bore herself with an ease and grace of deportment that at once charmed and delighted the beholder. Her features presented the most exquisite delicacy of outline, and the rich abundance of her raven tresses matched in their color the dark and lustrous eyes, whose liquid brilliancy was ineffably enhanced by the ivory delicacy of her complexion. Add, if you please, to those graces of person a wit at once subtle and alert and an address as amiable as it was entertaining, and you shall possess an image—imperfect, to be sure—of that famous beauty whose hermit-like seclusion from the world and whose mysterious personality had now for above two years been a matter of wonder and of speculation to the elegant society of Bordentown, that would gladly have received so admirable an addition into its fold.
Griscombe, as may be supposed, had all this while maintained a close hold upon his precious treasure-casket. He had placed it beneath his chair as he took his seat at the table; and what with the consciousness thereof, and of the interview with his host concerning his brother's probable fate, he discovered himself to be the victim of a singular embarrassment, and strangely at a loss for words wherewith to commend his wit to the easy and affable beauty. It was in vain that he endeavored to display the aptness of dialogue which he was entirely conscious he possessed. He was aware only of an unwonted constraint; and, accordingly, it was with a singular commixture of relief and regret that, at the invitation of Mr. Desmond, he at last quitted the table, and followed his host toward the study, mentally declaring to himself that, should the opportunity again offer, Miss Desmond should discover him to be not so lacking in brilliancy as she must have supposed from their first interview. Nor was it until he found himself in the study, face to face with the father, the strong box of treasure upon the table between them, that he was able to fetch himself entirely back to the seriousness and complexity of the business which rested upon him. Beginning at the beginning, however, he presently found that he was recovering entire command of himself, and presently, in clear and lucid phrases, was reciting every circumstance that had befallen him from the time of his absurd and preposterous masquerade at the supper of the Bluebird Club to the moment when his present host had met him in the reception-room.
As he progressed in his discourse, a dark and sombre shadow of extraordinary gloom gathered deeper and deeper upon the hitherto smiling countenance of Mr. Desmond. By little and little the color left his cheek; and an expression of the profoundest anxiety overspread his face, causing him to resemble to a still more extraordinary degree his unfortunate brother. As our young lawyer concluded his narrative, the other arose, and began walking up and down the narrow spaces of the room, betraying every appearance of an infinite perturbation of spirit, suppressed by an iron will and an implacable determination.
"My dear Mr. Griscombe," he said at last, stopping in front of the fireplace, "I shall not attempt to conceal from you my apprehensions regarding the fate of my unfortunate brother. I fear that he is no more, and that a tragic fate has overtaken him. That, however, is now past and gone. It is irremediable, and the question that at present lies upon us is that of my own danger. Tell me, do you suppose it likely that the agents who pursued my brother have any knowledge of my being established in this place?"
"That I cannot tell you," said Griscombe, "unless, indeed, the mysterious jack-straw player who penetrated into my office may have been in search of such information. I confess I cannot account in any other way for his coming to me."
"It may be so," said Mr. Desmond, thoughtfully. "At any rate, I shall immediately quit this place where I now live, and shall seek for an asylum in some still more retired and undiscoverable locality. Meantime let us examine into the safety of the treasure which you have so faithfully transported thither."
And, as he concluded his speech, he arose, and crossing the room to a handsome mahogany escritoire, and opening a secret drawer therein, brought thence a small steel key, the fellow to that with which his unfortunate brother had once before opened the casket in Griscombe's presence. This he applied to the lock, gave it a turn, and threw back the lid.
The piercing and terrible shriek which instantly succeeded the action struck through Griscombe's brain like a dagger. The next moment he beheld his host stagger back, clutching at the empty air, and at last fall into a dishevelled heap into the arm-chair behind him, where he lay white and shrunken together as though shrivelled up to one-half his former size and bulk by a vision that had just blasted his sight.
So unexpected was this conclusion, and so terrifying, that Griscombe sat as though stupefied. At last he arose, hardly conscious of what he was doing, and the next moment found himself gazing down into the interior depths of the open casket, like one in a dream.
There before him he beheld a spectacle the most dreadful that ever he had beheld. His sight appeared to him to swim as though through a transparent fluid, his brain expanded with a fantastic volatility, and his soul fluttered, as it were, upon his lips. For there before him lay, entirely surrounded by lamb's wool as white as snow, a still, calm face, as transparent as wax,—the immobile face of the first Mr. Desmond, now infinitely terrible in its image of eternal sleep. As though in a malign mockery, the now worthless jewels—about which the possessor had once been so infinitely concerned—had been poured out carelessly upon the motionless lineaments. A precious diamond, like a tear, reposed upon the transparent cheek, and a ruby of inestimable value clung to the pallid and sphinx-like lips. Across the forehead was stretched a fillet of linen; and upon it were inscribed in letters as black as ink the two ominous words—
How long Griscombe stood like one entranced, gazing at the dreadful spectacle before him, he could never tell; but, when at last he turned, it was to behold that Mr. Desmond had arisen from his seat, and that he was now clutching to the mantel-shelf as he stood leaning against it, his body heaving and his whole frame convulsed with the vehemence of the passion that racked every joint and bone. "God, man!" he cried at last in a hoarse and raucous voice, and without turning his face: "shut the box lid!"—and Griscombe obeyed with stiff and nerveless fingers that strangely disregarded the commands of his will.
"YOU NEXT!"
At last the unhappy man, having regained some control over the emotions that convulsed him, and heaving a profound sigh as though from the bottom of his soul, turned once more, and exhibited to the young lawyer a countenance from which every vestige of color had departed, and in whose dull and leaden eyes and pinched and shrivelled features it was well-nigh impossible to recognize the genteel and complacent host of a few moments before. "You have," said he, in hollow tones, "just delivered to me my death-warrant. In how dreadful a form it was served upon me, you yourself have beheld. My sins have overtaken me, as my poor brother's have overtaken him. They may perhaps have been of an unusually heinous character; but how great is my punishment! I call upon you to declare, even if our hands were ensanguined with the blood of a prince of India, and if the spouse of an Oriental king were executed at our commands, and even if we were partakers in our reward as in our crime, is not the fate that has overtaken us altogether too enormous for our deserts?"
"As to that," cried Griscombe, "Heaven is your judge, and not I. As for me, I begin to perceive a glimmer of light through these mysteries that have been gathering about me during these last few days, and I declare to you that I will have no more concern either in you or in your secrets. How is it possible," he exclaimed, "that I have come to be the partaker in the consequences of that rapine and of murder in which you and your brother were doubtless one time so guilty? No: I will have no more to do with you!"
"And would you," cried the other, "desert me in such extremity as this? Then at least have some pity upon my innocent daughter. We live a life in this place without a friend or an intimate,—almost, I may say, without an acquaintance. To whom am I to confide her in a time of such mortal danger as this? Am I to take her with me in my flight? And what if my fate overtakes me upon such a journey,—what, then, would become of her?"
Upon this plea Griscombe stood for awhile with downcast eyes, every shadow of expression banished from his countenance. As with an inner vision he beheld Miss Desmond as he had seen her but a little while before,—innocent, beautiful, radiantly unconscious of the doom that was about to fall upon the house—and his heart was wrung at the thought of such hideous misfortunes falling upon her sinless life. "Sir," he said at last, "your appeal has reached me. What is it you would have me to do? For your daughter's sake I will assist you in so far as my abilities may extend."
"I would have you," said the miserable man, "convey my daughter, upon your return to New York, in the post-chaise which brought you hither. With her I will send a quantity of jewels similar to those which you brought to me. These I will place in a strong box, and that again in a portmanteau of such a convenient size that you can easily take it into the post-chaise with you. These jewels comprise a large part of my fortune; and with them my daughter, should she be called upon to be separated forever from her unhappy father, can easily live in affluence and luxury. She, together with this treasure, you are to carry to a M. de Troinville, who has for a long while been the agent both of my brother and of myself, and who is under considerable obligation to us. With you I shall send to that gentleman a letter of full instruction; and, as soon as you have delivered that and my daughter into his hands, your responsibility shall be at an end, and you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have relieved the anxiety of one who has probably only a day or maybe a few hours to live, and who would otherwise have found his last moments upon earth to have been blighted."
"So be it," said Griscombe, after a moment or two of consideration. "I accept the commission."
"Sir," said Mr. Desmond, "you have won the eternal gratitude of the most miserable man upon the earth." And, as he spoke, he made as though he would have embraced our hero.
"Nay," said Griscombe, "I do not choose to accept your caresses. You owe me no gratitude; for, upon my word, I declare that what I do is only for the sake of your daughter, and that, except for her, I would leave you to a fate which in no wise concerns me, and which, from your own confession, you appear in no small degree to have merited. Prepare your letter to M. de Troinville; and in the mean time, by your leave, I will wait in some other apartment of your house than this."
"You are," said Mr. Desmond, "neither polite nor sympathetic. But let it pass. I find myself obliged to accept your services, however unwillingly they may have been offered."
Little remains to be said concerning this part of our narrative, excepting that about ten o'clock Griscombe was summoned to depart upon his return to New York, and that he found the post-chaise waiting in front of the house, with the young lady and the portmanteau already ensconced within. As our hero stepped into the conveyance, Mr. Desmond gave him the letter of introduction to M. de Troinville, and at the same time thrust upon him a leathern bag containing a hundred pieces of gold valued at twenty dollars each, declaring that he had employed him as his attorney, and that this was his fee. Griscombe would gladly have rejected the stipend, could he have done so without betraying to the unconscious young lady the portentous nature of the affair that had overwhelmed them all. As it was, he found himself obliged, however unwillingly, to accept the gratuity thus thrust upon him.
Even if our hero had never again beheld Miss Desmond, he might easily have retained her in his memory for years afterward as a bright and radiant vision of that otherwise gloomy and portentous episode of his life. As it was, what with his having been intrusted with the guardianship of so beautiful a creature, what with his pity for her unconsciousness of the dreadful fate that had overtaken her father, and what with the necessity he was under of disguising from her the terrible events that had occurred, and of answering in kind the sallies of the innocent and entertaining gayety that burst from her continually during their journey,—what with all these, and the warmth and fragrant charm of her presence so close to him in the narrow confines of the post-chaise, his heart was possessed to its inmost fibres with so consuming an ardor of pity and tenderness that he could gladly have laid down his life for her sake.
It was at two o'clock of an afternoon upon the last stage of their journey that they stopped for a dinner at the tavern in Newark, N.J., almost, so to speak, in sight of their destination. It was excessively cold; and a light snow had begun to fall from the gray and leaden sky, giving promise of an early night. A cheerful fire of hickory wood burned in the fire-place, diffusing a grateful warmth throughout the apartment; and in the pleasure of its heat Miss Desmond yielded herself to an extreme relaxation of spirits. She rallied Griscombe upon the diffidence he had exhibited upon their first introduction. She congratulated him with a mock seriousness upon his approaching release from his duties as a squire of dames. Her father had given her to believe that he would follow her immediately to New York, accordingly, reminding Griscombe that the next day would be Christmas, she invited him to come to M. de Troinville's to dine with them. Nor could Griscombe listen to her innocent prattle without experiencing such an overmastering pity for her unconsciousness of the tragic fate that had overtaken her father and for her own hapless condition, that it was well-nigh impossible for him to answer her sallies with raillery of a like sort. However, he continued to act his part with such skill of performance that his companion never once suspected with what effort he composed the words he uttered.
"IT WAS AT THIS JUNCTURE ... THAT AN APOLOGETIC KNOCK FELL UPON THE DOOR"
It was at this juncture, fraught with such pathetic emotions to our hero, that an apologetic knock fell upon the door; and the next moment, as in answer to his own summons, a little old gentleman of extraordinary appearance entered the room. A long white beard half concealed his face, which was of a yellow-brown complexion, and entirely covered with a multitude of minute wrinkles. His eyes, piercing and black, sparkled like those of a serpent beneath his overhanging eyebrows.
"My dear young gentleman and my dear young lady," he began in a thin, high voice, "learning at the bar that you had a good fire in this room, I ventured to intrude myself upon you with perhaps as strange a request as you ever heard in all of your life."
At the very first appearance of the stranger—who, somehow, in his singularly Oriental appearance suggested the jack-straw player of a few days before—a strange presentiment of evil began to take possession of Griscombe's mind. Nor were his apprehensions lessened as the old gentleman, resuming his speech, continued as follows: "I am, as you may observe, my dear young gentleman and my dear young lady, extremely old; and I am obliged to confess to the possession of certain follies of which I am now entirely unable to rid myself. Fortunately for myself, I am excessively rich, and so am perfectly well able to indulge those whims, however absurd, that have now grown altogether a part of my nature, and which, in one so old as myself, can never hope to be eradicated. Learning that you, my dear young gentleman, were an attorney-at-law, I determined to approach you as a client, and to purchase of you a small portion of your no doubt extremely valuable time." Upon this he drew from beneath his cloak a leathern purse full of money, which he set upon the table. "In this," he continued, "are a hundred pieces of gold valued at twenty dollars each. I offer it to you as a retaining fee, and I venture to say that few lawyers of your age have ever received so much at a time from a single client."
"And what," cried Griscombe, with a voice he could scarcely command,—"and what is it you desire of me?"
"I hardly know," said the old man, "how to prefer the extraordinary request that I have to offer. You must know that I am inordinately fond of the game of tit-tat-toe; and my object is to purchase one half-hour of your valuable time, my dear young gentleman, so that I may indulge myself in my favorite pastime."
At these extraordinary words, and at the entire seriousness of the speaker, the young lady burst into an irrepressible fit of laughter, which she found it altogether impossible to control. But upon Griscombe the effect was entirely different. Those vague and alarming suggestions that had already begun to take possession of him leaped at once into positive reality. He had for safety left the portmanteau with its precious contents in the adjoining bedroom, which he had just used as a dressing-chamber, and he instantly perceived, under the innocent request of the old gentleman with the white beard, the most sinister and malignant designs upon it. He sprung to his feet, as though stung by the lash of a fury. "You villain," he cried in a hoarse and straining voice, "I know what are your designs; and but for this young lady, and my desire to conceal from her your ominous purposes, I would fling you at once out of the window. Begone, lest I find it impossible to restrain myself!"
These words were uttered with a paroxysm of passion such as the young lady was entirely unable to account for. Never before had she beheld our hero exhibit anything but the utmost delicacy and gentleness of manner; and now, not in the least understanding the reason for his fury, she gazed upon him with astonishment, in which terror was almost the entire component part. These emotions, however, gradually gave place to an increasing and generous indignation at what she considered the unmerited violence exhibited by a young man against another old enough to be his grandsire.
"Upon my word, Mr. Griscombe," she cried indignantly, "I profess I am entirely at a loss to understand your anger against this poor old gentleman. What, may I ask, is the reason of your excessive fury at so harmless a request as that which he has proffered?"
"Madame," exclaimed Griscombe, vehemently, "I cannot explain it to you."
"I confess," she cried with still more heat than before, "I cannot understand your violence, unless it is that you fear to appear ridiculous by indulging this poor old gentleman in his innocent whim." And then, upon our hero's continued silence, she added: "I could not have believed it possible that you could have exhibited so much impatience and anger at so slight a cause. My opinion of you is altogether altered from what it was; nor can I again recover my original favorable impression unless you offer such reparation as lies in your power by accepting the fee which has been so generously offered you, and by sitting down and gratifying your client with the game of tit-tat-toe he has requested. Should you decline such reparation, I can, as I say, never entertain again for you the regard I have until now experienced."
"Indeed," said the old man, in a gentle voice, but with a smile in which Griscombe read the most malignant and sinister suggestion, "if the young gentleman apprehends any malevolent designs upon my part, he has only to declare what he suspects; and I will go directly away. If, however, he has nothing with which to accuse me, I, too, shall insist upon it that he, by way of a penance, shall indulge me with my little game."
Poor Griscombe stood overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions. One thing alone was clear to his mind: he must protect his innocent and precious charge from all knowledge of what had now doubtless befallen her unhappy father. It were better that those emissaries of evil that had beset him should fulfil their every purpose—even to the last—rather than that she should suffer. He must be dumb, and allow them to conclude their dreadful work. After all, he could easily inform M. de Troinville before the fatal portmanteau should be opened. "I will obey you if you command me, madame," he cried; "but pray, pray spare me this!" And, as he spoke, he fixed upon Miss Desmond a look of such agonizing appeal that she could not but have been moved by it, had she not been blinded by her own imperiousness of purpose. As it was, she only hardened her face into a still more immovable expression of determination. Where-upon, finding her not to be shaken, our hero sank into rather than sat down upon the chair beside him.
The old gentleman with the beard, having thus gained his point, beamed with the utmost cheerfulness of expression, and, advancing with alacrity, pushed aside the dinner plates, and immediately assumed a position opposite his unwilling opponent, and between him and the door of the room where his precious portmanteau lay hidden. Having thus established himself, the old gentleman drew from a capacious pocket a sandalwood box inlaid with arabesque figures of gold and mother-of-pearl. Opening this box, he displayed, to the profound astonishment of at least one of his companions, an exquisitely wrought tablet of mother-of-pearl and gold, pierced with one-and-eighty holes arranged in a square of nine. Opening a slide in the side of the tablet, he thence emptied from a receptacle upon the table five curiously wrought pins of gold, and a like number of silver. Handing the five pins of the more precious metal to Griscombe and reserving for himself the five pegs of silver, the old gentleman immediately explained to his listeners the simple process of the game upon which he proposed to embark. Each player in turn was to thrust a pin into a hole in the tablet, and he who could so far escape his opponent's interference as to arrange three of the five pins in a line should, upon each occurrence thereof, have scored a point in the game. Having completed these easy instructions, he immediately invited Griscombe to open the play, which he upon his part entered upon with every appearance of entire enjoyment and satisfaction.
At any time Griscombe would have been no match for the extraordinary skill of his opponent; but, as it was, he was so torn and distracted by a multitude of emotions that he occasionally knew not what he was doing or what he beheld. His imagination framed the most ominous images of what was going forward in the bedroom beyond; and he lost again and again, while at times his hands trembled so that he could hardly place the pin in its respective hole. Now and then his hearing, strung to an unnatural intensity of key, seemed to detect smothered sounds from the adjoining room; and at such times the ivory tablet appeared to vanish from his sight, and the sweat started from every pore.
But, in spite of all he suffered, he took care never to permit the young lady to perceive the agony under which he labored. The frequent mistakes of which he was guilty and the extreme inadequacy with which he played the game she attributed to mortification or to obstinacy. At last, at some more preposterous blunder, she could contain her patience no longer. "Why do you not place your pin in that hole, Mr. Griscombe?" she cried: "it will score you a point," And Griscombe, obeying, found the next instant that three of his pins stood in a line.
At that moment a faint whistle sounded from without; and the old gentleman, as though in answer to a signal, declared his desire for the game to be entirely appeased. Withdrawing the pins from the tablet, he replaced them in their receptacle, replaced the tablet itself in the box and shut the lid with a snap. "Madame," he said, "I should have played with you instead of with our young gentleman here; for, indeed, he exhibits no great aptitude for the game." Then addressing Griscombe with a double meaning that set every nerve of his victim to quivering, "Nevertheless, young sir," he observed, "you have afforded me a great deal of entertainment, and I protest that you have entirely earned the fee which you have pocketed." Thereupon he incontinently departed, leaving the young lady and our hero to digest, each in his or her own way, the events that had just transpired.
So concludes this part of the narrative, with only this to add—that, had Griscombe had no one to think of but himself, he would at once have torn open the fatal travelling-case, and so have satisfied himself as to the nature of its contents. As it was, for the sake of his charge, who had in so short a time grown so infinitely dear to him, he would rather have had his right hand struck off than have betrayed his terrible apprehensions to her innocent ears. Accordingly, he still wrapped himself in his martyrdom of silence, though he would rather have sat facing a living adder than that ominous portmanteau upon the front seat of the post-chaise.
The snow, which had begun falling about noon, was, by the time the two travellers reached the ferry to New York, descending in such impenetrable sheets as entirely to conceal the further shore from Paulus Hook. Indeed, it required no little persuasion upon the part of our hero and the promise of a very heavy bribe to induce the negro ferryman to transport them across the river upon so forbidding a night. And so slow was their transit and so doubtful their course that the night was pretty far advanced before they reached New York.
The town lay perfectly silent, smothered in a blanket of soundless white, upon which the ceaseless clouds of snow fell noiselessly out of the inky sky above. Indeed, the drifts were become so deep that Griscombe entertained very considerable doubts as to how he should convey Miss Desmond and the now tragic contents of the portmanteau to their final destination.
Accordingly, it was with the feeling of the utmost relief that, upon quitting the ferry-boat, he was met by a negro, who told him that M. de Troinville had been already informed of their coming, and that, because of the storm, a conveyance had been waiting at the ferry-house ever since early in the evening to transport the young lady and her baggage to that gentleman's house.
A large coach was indeed in waiting, the driver, the horses, and the vehicle alike covered thickly with a coating of white. In this conveyance our hero, with the utmost solicitude, disposed the young lady, and at the same time ordered that the portmanteau should be deposited upon the front seat. Having thereupon distributed a liberal gratuity to those who had assisted him, he himself immediately entered, and closed the door; and instantly the driver cracked his whip, and the coach whirled away, with scarcely a sound, upon the muffled and velvet-like covering of the street, directing its course through the continually falling clouds of whiteness.
Nor could Griscombe so far penetrate the obscurity of the thickly falling snow as at all to tell whither they were being conveyed. Several corners were turned and a number of streets were traversed, the lamps whereof were entirely unable to pierce the falling clouds of snow so as to declare the locality toward which the coach was being driven.
At length, however, after a rather protracted journeying, and to our hero's considerable relief, the carriage stopped at the sidewalk before a large and imposing edifice, altogether unlighted and as black as night. No other building was immediately near; and the mansion stood altogether alone, looking down upon the street in solitary state.
Almost instantly upon the arrival of the coach a number of servants appeared upon the sidewalk, as though they had been waiting in expectation of the coming of the travellers. Some of these opened the door of the conveyance, and assisted the young lady and our hero to alight; others took charge of the portmanteau, which they proceeded immediately to carry into the house; others, again, stood about as though waiting in attendance upon the new arrivals.
All these attentions were preferred with a singular assiduity and in such entire silence that Griscombe knew not whether most to admire the imposing extent of M. de Troinville's household or the extraordinary training of his attendants. Turning to one who appeared to be the upper servant, our hero commanded that the portmanteau be conveyed to some place of safety unopened, and carefully guarded, and that he himself be immediately conducted to M. de Troinville for a private interview concerning business of the utmost importance. In reply the man to whom he spoke delivered an order in a foreign tongue, which Griscombe was entirely unable to understand, whereupon two attendants, as in obedience to his command, conducted him and the young lady up the steps and into a wide and imposing hallway, the front door whereof was instantly shut upon them.
It was but little wonder that Griscombe and Miss Desmond should have stood gazing about them altogether at a loss to understand in what manner of place they had arrived. For, however much they might have been surprised at any eccentricity of a French gentleman living entirely alone in bachelor quarters, what they beheld was the very last thing they might have expected.
The faint yellow light of a single lamp, suspended from the lofty ceiling by a chain, diffused a dim illumination throughout the space, and by its yellow glow Griscombe discovered, with no little surprise, that the hall was altogether unfurnished. Not a fragment of carpet lay upon the floor, not a chair, not a stick of furniture, relieved the bleak and barren space of wainscot about them; but all was a perfectly empty and barren desolation.
And, what was still more remarkable, the numerous attendants that had just before surrounded them and had introduced them into the house had disappeared as if by magic; and a dead and solemn silence reigned throughout the entire edifice, broken only by a single distant voice that, in a monotonous sing-song, inexpressive intonation, continued for a time a level discourse, which at last sank abruptly into an entire silence.
There was something so ominous and threatening in all the unexpectedness of these things that Griscombe felt his spirits becoming overshadowed by an overmastering sense of impending evil. It was only when he discovered that Miss Desmond was becoming perturbed by a similar emotion of dismay, and that she was clinging to him with an exceeding tenacity, that, by an effort of will, he overmastered his accumulating fears, and, in spite of the cloud of apprehension that threatened to overshadow him, regained command of his courage once more.
"What does this mean!" exclaimed Miss Desmond in a hurried and terrified whisper. "What strange place is this to which we have been brought?"
"Have courage," replied our hero, steadily, but in the same subdued tone. "You are in no danger. We have probably come to the wrong house, that is all. Wait but a little while, and all will be explained." But, though our hero spoke with so much courage, his heart was exceedingly burdened with a sense of impending calamity; for he seemed to feel the network of circumstances that had been gathering about him for these few days past enwrapping both him and his ward in ever tightening meshes.
At that instant the figure of a man appeared emerging suddenly from out the gloom. He was tall and thin, and was clad in a long flowing robe of Oriental design. Desiring Griscombe and the young lady to follow him, and without waiting for any question or refusal, he turned, and immediately led the way up a broad uncarpeted stairway to the floor above.
Here a narrow thread of light outlined a door opening upon the landing, as though emitted from a considerable illumination within. This door, as they approached it, was suddenly flung open; and the next moment our hero found himself with his companion in an apartment flooded with such a dazzling brilliancy that, coming as he had from the obscurity without, he was for a time entirely blinded by the unusual radiance.
Little by little, however, his sight returned to him; and he discovered that he and the young lady were in a room of extraordinary dimensions, suffused with an oppressive warmth, heavy with perfume, and flaming with a thousand radiant and variegated colors. Surrounding him and his companion on all sides was a multitude of attendants of a foreign aspect, all clad in extraordinarily rich and sumptuous costumes of an Oriental pattern.
Immediately upon his appearance with the young lady hanging upon his arm, this crowd of attendants parted, forming, as it were, a vista through which our hero and his companion could behold the farther extremity of the saloon.
It was thus that Griscombe first beheld him who, his instinct instantly told him, was the spider who had woven all this web of mystery in which he had become so singularly entangled.
What he beheld was a little yellow man with a flat, fat face and black and brilliant eyes. He had composed himself cross-legged upon a divan of crimson silk, surrounded by luxurious cushions of embroidered patterns, and sheltered by crimson silk curtains resplendent with gold, which hung suspended from the walls behind him. His figure was almost entirely enveloped by a purple velvet robe, thickly studded with jewels and ornamented in arabesque designs with seed pearls and gold. Upon his nether parts were a pair of crimson velvet trousers, and upon his head was a large and voluminous turban, enriched with a single diamond of excessive magnitude and brilliancy, which glowed in the centre of the folds of the head-dress like a star of inconceivable size and brightness. In his hand, brilliant with a multitude of rings, he held the mouth-piece of the long and snake-like water-pipe, the smoke from which he inhaled with every appearance of entire enjoyment and satisfaction, emitting it now and then in a thin cloud, which immediately dissolved in the heavy and perfumed air. His face was devoid of all expression, and he regarded Griscombe and the young lady with an impassivity of countenance that was in some inexplicable way infinitely ominous.
Upon one side of this figure stood he with whom Griscombe had once played jack-straws, and upon the other side the old gentleman with the white beard whom he had indulged in the game of tit-tat-toe. Both men were now clad in Oriental garb, far more appropriate to their appearance than the garments of civilization in which our hero had first beheld them. Near at hand, as though standing upon guard, were a half-dozen or more negroes clad entirely in black, and each armed with a naked scimitar, the blades whereof shone now and then like lightning in the dazzling light of the thousand waxen tapers that illuminated the expanse of the apartment.
A long carpet of extreme richness extended the length of the apartment; and upon the floor, in front of the central figure of all this remarkable and terrifying apparition of Oriental splendor, reposed the fatal portmanteau that Griscombe had conveyed with such extraordinary pains from Bordentown.
At sight of this object it seemed to our hero that all that which before had appeared so inexplicable became instantly entirely clear, and it was as though his very vitals dissolved with the fear of that which might in a moment befall the innocent ward confided to his care.
All this while he had been half supporting her, with his arm thrown protectingly around her; while she, upon her part, clung to him with all the tenacity of a growing and overwhelming terror. It was at this juncture that of a sudden he felt her form relax and her clasp upon him to weaken. As he gazed down into her face, he became instantly aware, by the excessive pallor of her countenance, her upturned eyes, and her closing eyelids, that, either because of the excessive heat of the room or because of the overpowering perfume, or because of the growing terror which had entirely penetrated her heart, or on account of all these causes combined, she had fallen into a swoon that more nearly resembled death than unconsciousness.
Looking about him, he perceived near at hand a sofa of rich brocade, covered with a multitude of soft and luxurious pillows. Upon this he laid the inanimate form so dear to him, and then, rendered bold by the desperateness of her situation, turned, and walked directly up the length of the room to where that ominous figure sat amidst its cushions.
"Sir," he cried, "I more than suspect who you are, and what are the sinister purposes you have accomplished. I may even, indeed, guess somewhat of your present designs. I demand, however, to know for certain what now are your intentions toward this young lady and myself. Do not forget that we are in the town of New York, and that a single call from a window may bring me help at any moment."
To this address the being to whom it was delivered made no other reply than to issue by a gesture, and without moving the mouthpiece of the pipe from his lips, a brief command to a gigantic black, who stood near at hand. As in reply, the negro advanced to the portmanteau, and with a single movement opened it and displayed the contents to his master.
Griscombe had already taught himself what to expect concerning the melancholy contents thereof; but, now that he looked down upon it in reality, he again experienced that singular and volatile expansion of his brain, and again his every nerve tingled with the shock which it received.