Chapter XXIII: A Strange Story (2)

"Uncle Thomas and his assistant thought the time had come for a bold move. By arresting both Laniers and William Dodge the whole conspiracy would be confessed. William Dodge would accuse the Laniers, and they would implicate him. With Paul's and Pierre's Bombay confidences, corroborated by Dodge's expected confession, conviction of the Laniers would follow. William Dodge would explain that in bringing the London suit he was only a pliant tool of the Laniers, and they would blame all on him. Then he would retaliate by telling about the Thames murders. These recriminations, the vague Bombay confessions, supplemented by other facts already known, and further information obtainable through such powerful clews, would unravel the whole web of criminal connivance, bringing both Pierre and Paul to strict account."

Alice then told of the tactics employed, William Dodge's Calcutta confession, and the Lanier reserve. Dodge had no actual knowledge of Paul's assaults upon Alice and Oswald, but related what he knew of the circumstances. He fully explained his and Lanier complicity in bringing the suit, with all after procedure in the action, including its dismissal.

Alice narrated some parts of this confession, which agreed with that formerly made in Paris hospital by William Dodge. It was full, but disappointing.

"Strenuous efforts to induce the Laniers to talk were fruitless. They made no responses. We surmised that neither cared to assert his rights by demanding a hearing or trial. They were kept jailed several weeks, in expectation of some revelations. At last the officers and Uncle Thomas decided to turn them loose, but still to keep William Dodge in custody. Thus might Lanier conduct be observed without danger of this important witness being spirited away or forever silenced.

"William Dodge himself did not protest against his continued imprisonment.

"For a few days Pierre and Paul nervously moved about in Calcutta, and then quit the city.

"That assistant left at the same time, and following them to different points, reaches London, lodging across an alley, in full view of the basement stairway leading to the room occupied by Pierre and Paul.

"For a long time after the Laniers sailed, Uncle Thomas and I remained in Calcutta.

"Letters telling of Lanier movements came from that assistant to Uncle Thomas. Then during the following weeks nothing was heard. We began to worry, fearing some accident had happened. Perhaps he had fallen victim to Lanier vengeance. This would be most unfortunate for me. Sufficient facts already had been discovered upon which to base actions against Pierre Lanier for frauds upon the estate of my father, and for that London conspiracy involving the suit begun by William Dodge. I could not think of such notoriety until the Thames assaults and murder were cleared, and never would risk public scandal among friends in London.

"These were the motives inducing uncle to advise that Pierre and Paul be released from Calcutta imprisonment. Too, the murder of Oswald Langdon must be avenged."

Sir Donald smiled at Alice's earnest explanations, but awaited her story's ending.

"At length came a letter from London informing Uncle Thomas of Lanier arrivals and shadowings by his old-time helper. We soon after sailed for England. Full details were given by that assistant, and with much zeal Uncle Thomas resumed his former work.

"Much of the time I kept out of public view, lodging at the obscure inn.

"Pierre seldom left the basement room at night, but Paul then made many strange excursions, often prowling up and down the Thames.

"The assistant began to notice queer freaks in Paul's conduct. The first evidences of these were after their return to London.

"The reports startled me, as it seemed Paul feared I yet might rise from the river, and that he was determined to prevent it. Many nights Paul would skulk along the river-banks and peer over into the Thames from the place where we had been struck into the stream. Later he took boat-rides up and down the river, past this spot, closely scrutinizing projecting shrubs until opposite the rustic seat, when, rowing back and forth across the river, Paul would pause and strike at some reflection from the water, then be seated and drift downstream.

"As these incidents were related by that assistant and Uncle Thomas, I felt horrible dread. This craze of Paul's seemed almost a judgment upon my head. Such determined malice against the girl he had slain, yet feared still might rise from her slimy grave, was beyond belief, yet I could not doubt the evidences. My curiosity was increased, and I felt a strong desire to witness Paul's new infatuation. In male disguise I watched from hiding some of this madman's night performances upon and along the river.

"Though at first dreadfully shocked and nearly dead with fright, my curiosity grew with each watch. Uncle Thomas refused longer indulgence, except at rare intervals.

"Before our arrival at London that assistant had followed Paul to Northfield.

"Paul's conduct there had been strange, but he seemed desirous of learning the whereabouts of you and Esther.

"Later, Paul again visited Northfield, and I witnessed some of his actions. Uncle Thomas, the assistant, and I were hidden in thick shrubbery near the spot where Northfield visitors often sat along the lake. Paul had been skulking through the woods, but could not see us. Between us and him was that steep ravine. Suddenly Paul struck a tragic pose, lifted his right hand, advanced a few steps, then slowly stepped backward out of sight beyond a cluster of bushes.

"These movements, though very startling, were followed by still greater surprises.

"Soon out of leafy stillness came quotations from that poem partly declaimed by me at Bombay.

"Such utterances at that time and place from this crazed outlaw, reiterated with madman's unction, were horrible.

"After repetition of phrases, 'buried from my sight,' 'and trodden down with stones,' Paul hesitated, as if pondering the improbability of such fate to his victims' mortal remains; then broke out in a hysterical laugh.

"I was eager, and prompted:

"'And years have rotted off his flesh,'

"Paul turned, facing that way, uttered terrible curses, gave a crazed yell of fear, and stood staring into vacancy, when in deep gutturals I repeated:

"'The world shall see his bones.'

"At this Paul staggered, made wild thrusts with his dagger in direction whence came these promptings, and then fled.

"On the next train, watched by that assistant, Paul returned to London.

"Uncle Thomas and I saw you with Esther rowing upon the lake. This was just after Paul's flight. Until then we did not know of your return from Calcutta.

"I felt a growing interest in Paul's Thames tableaus. One night Uncle Thomas allowed me to watch with him along the river-bank. Paul takes his usual row up the Thames. We are hiding in some shrubbery beyond the rustic seat. Paul's boat arrives opposite that point in the river, and he repeats former performances.

"After steadying the boat with an oar, holding in set teeth that gleaming dagger, moving back and forth across the river, peering over at watery reflections, and making savage thrusts, Paul is again seated, drifting down the stream.

"Uncle Thomas and I are following, when another spy emerges from a cluster of bushes farther down, keeping slightly in rear of the boat, a short distance from shore.

"Uncle and I are a few feet apart. I am ahead. Both of us are eager, but cautious. The grass and bushes rustle, but that spy is too intent for hearing or fear. The chase grows exciting.

"Drifting around a curve, the boat is out of sight. That stranger runs forward, trips and falls on the river's brink. I was alarmed, as it seemed sure that this man would fall into the current. I paused at the edge of leafy foliage. To my relief the fallen man recovers his footing. Giving a look to where I stood partly concealed, he hurries on, badly limping, as if in pain. Uncle Thomas signaled me to keep back, and we followed cautiously at greater distance, but soon after lost sight of this limping spy.

"I was nearly exhausted with the chase. Just before reaching the point of starting, we rested over an hour, and then went to the inn.

"Next day that assistant told of both Pierre and Paul having spent most of the night away from their room. Contrary to custom, Pierre went out first. A few minutes afterward, Paul left, starting in an opposite direction from that taken by his father. Puzzled at this change in Lanier habits, and fearing some new flight, the assistant followed, but soon losing sight of Paul, returned to watch that cellar stairway.

"After midnight, Paul came back. Limping around the corner, faint and exhausted, hours later, Pierre staggered down the stairs.

"We were then sure this spy was Pierre Lanier, who for the first time had witnessed Paul's Thames infatuation. This was confirmed later by Pierre's limping walk.

"It became apparent to Uncle Thomas and his assistant that other shadowings were occurring. Spies upon their actions, as well as those of the Laniers, watched regular shifts. They suspected that in some way you were responsible for this, but doubted that you had any hint of their identity.

"Another discreet helper was employed by Uncle Thomas, to report any interesting happenings at Northfield.

"That you visited London and called at a detective agency was reported. This helper followed you back to Northfield, and reported Charles Randolph's return from abroad. Later the same spy followed your son to London, and told Uncle Thomas at what hotel Charles stopped.

"In slight disguise we quit the inn, going to this hotel, and with but short absences remaining until I was recognized by you and Esther.

"It was known to us that Charles helped shadow the Laniers, often calling at the same detective agency formerly visited by you.

"Both Uncle Thomas and I had noticed that Charles seemed interested in us, but we attributed this to possible detection of our guarded observations of his actions. I sometimes wondered at Charles's interest, fearing that possibly he suspected my identity. At meals this feeling embarrassed me, but Uncle Thomas insisted on our dining at the same time, when he could watch Charles's actions.

"To me it often seemed strange that persons planning for like ends, engaged in similar work to right human wrongs and to punish the guilty, should spy upon each other, scheming and operating at cross-purposes. I hardly could refrain from appealing to Charles to help in my troubles, and from the first was sure he would be such a good, faithful friend. Why should not you, Charles, and Esther become my confidential allies, helping us to unravel this web? I hinted this to Uncle Thomas, who would not think of such a 'rash break.'

"Later on, for a few days, we stopped at the inn.

"It had been reported that Paul was showing quarrelsome traits, and at any time might commit some murderous assault. These agency sleuths had become troublesome, hampering Uncle Thomas in his determined watches upon Lanier conduct. Through competing zeal at any time might occur some unfortunate clash. Those agency employes were argus-eyed, watching each move made by him and his assistants. Doubtless the man sent by Uncle Thomas to Northfield was being shadowed and his doings were reported to agency headquarters.

"For these reasons Uncle Thomas decided that we would return to that obscure inn. This change was made at a late hour, and I went alone. Uncle Thomas left before, and by a long route reached the ambush beyond the rustic seat.

"Next morning he reported that Paul did not appear. Calling at the cabin where that old-time assistant kept watch, Uncle Thomas learned that early the previous evening Paul left, but had not returned. Pierre was in the basement room.

"The following night Uncle Thomas watched along the river, but again was disappointed. Next morning he called upon that assistant, but finding the door securely fastened, returned and slept a few hours. In the afternoon he again called, but could obtain no response.

"That night Uncle Thomas resumed his watch along the Thames. He saw Pierre Lanier prowling up and down the river, followed by that same assistant. Next morning Pierre inquired of police officials as to any arrests made within the last two days and nights. He then returned to the basement room, trailed by that assistant and Uncle Thomas.

"Pierre had gone out the previous morning, during all that day and the following night searching for Paul. The third night after Paul's disappearance was spent by Pierre along the river, trailed as before. Next day Pierre did not return to his room until afternoon.

"In the early evening a letter came by special messenger to Uncle Thomas at the inn. It was from that helper at Northfield, stating that Paul Lanier was then skulking about in the timber along the lake. On the previous night Paul had been close to the Northfield mansion grounds, but evidently became aware that a sentinel was on guard. Paul surely meditated mischief, but the writer thought sufficient precautions against surprise had been taken by Sir Donald Randolph.

"The contents of this letter, with knowledge of Paul's crafty malice and murderous zeal, greatly alarmed me. It seemed that ordinary watchfulness would not avail against Paul's crazed, homicidal mania. If you or Esther fell a victim to Paul's knife, it would be chargeable to your friendship for me. Was it right that through acquiescence in any mode of procedure advised by others I should permit such friends to be ruthlessly butchered by a madman?

"To Uncle Thomas I told my fears, but he thought there was little danger to any one at Northfield through Paul's crazy breaks.

"'For months this insane wretch has been a harmless lunatic, practicing his night tableaus through some purposeless infatuation.'

"With this remark he dismissed the subject, but went out, secured a cab, and drove to that cabin across the alley from the Lanier room. The assistant was directed to take the first train for Northfield, and keep close watch of Paul's every act. Uncle Thomas remained at the cabin.

"After uncle went out I still felt nervous and a strong presentiment that peril hung over the Randolph household. With each effort to think of other things, this feeling grew stronger. There was something so awful as to overpower all habitual obedience to Uncle Thomas.

"I thought of Charles Randolph. Perhaps Charles was at the hotel, unconscious of dangers threatening those he loved. Without any plan of action I caught up the veil presented at London by Uncle Thomas, sped from my room, hailed a passing cabman, urging him to drive fast to that hotel. Going at once to the room occupied by Charles Randolph, I knocked, and was admitted. On the way there I had thought out a mode of broaching the subject to Charles and of hiding my identity, but when in his presence this all became blank, and some other things were said. He promised to go home at once, and I returned to the inn.

"I did not tell Uncle Thomas about this call. He remained at that cabin all night, the next day, and until the following morning.

"I called at the cabin. Uncle Thomas told me that Paul was in London. This seemed strange, but he explained that there was an early morning train from station near the Northfield premises. Paul doubtless came back, on that train, and reached the room before daylight. That day neither Paul nor Pierre was seen on the street. My uncle closely watched the basement room.

"On early morning train of the following day both assistants came from Northfield and hurried to that old cabin. They explained Paul's assault on a guard at entrance to the Northfield mansion grounds and the murder of the sentinel.

"Uncle Thomas acted promptly. He went out and called up a prominent police official, notifying him to bring help and arrest two desperate villains.

"The three men waited at the entrance to that old stairway until five police officials appeared.

"Listening at the basement door, these heard scuffling inside, curses, and suppressed yells. Then all noises ceased. There was no response to continued knockings. The door yielded to pressure, and the officials entered.

"With dirty, blood-stained clothing, hair disheveled, and face begrimed, froth upon his lips, lay Paul upon the stone floor. Across Paul's breast was Pierre, pale and motionless.

"At first both were thought dead. It was soon discovered that Pierre had only swooned. Water was dashed upon his face. He revived and stared about vacantly. Slowly what had happened dawned upon his mind, but he seemed stupid, saying nothing.

"Pierre intently gazed at Paul's unconscious form, but looked blank when questioned by the officials.

"After some time Paul showed signs of returning consciousness, slowly revived, and seeing his captors, became furious. Then beholding Pierre ironed and helpless, Paul burst out in a hysterical laugh, which was followed by frantic appeals for protection against his father's imagined wrath. Both were taken to prison.

"For various reasons Uncle Thomas then had procured the arrests. As news of that Northfield murder came through his agents, it was his duty to inform the proper officials. For months he and his employes had shadowed both Laniers, witnessing Paul's crazed acts, and it was known that they had done this. These assistants were in the immediate neighborhood of Northfield when this murder occurred. It would be inquired, why such continued shadowings, yet failure to prevent this crime? The whole matter would be thoroughly probed. This murder could not be concealed without guilty responsibility. Proof of Oswald Langdon's death was not conclusive. It never might be clearer with Paul hung or in a madhouse. If we had taken proper action to restrain this madman, the murder never would have occurred. Better to take decisive steps and assist the officers than appear to condone crime. All we had planned and worked for would fare better through prompt procedure. Possibly out of this very tangle might come clearance of the unhappy, troubled past.

"Such motives prompted Uncle Thomas to decisive action in procuring these second arrests of Pierre and Paul Lanier.

"Just how or when my part in this drama is to be revealed neither Uncle Thomas nor I yet have decided. I greatly dread the trial.

"At times I seem standing, dizzy, bewildered, and speechless, upon the brink of a yawning chasm. Then appears a light beyond, beckoning me to try the plunge.

"Occasionally, in day-dreams, a hand, not spectral, but inspiringly real and familiar, seems drawing me toward new earthly life and joy; but such fancies are fleeting. The old dread of social ostracism and of suspicious aversion returns with increased power. I have no consciousness of wrong-doing, yet maidenly ideals have been shocked by my conduct, and the place for Alice Webster is outside the pale of social recognition.

"Afternoon of the day upon which occurred the arrests Uncle Thomas decided again to move. To show no attempt at privacy, we returned to the hotel. Both of us were surprised to see your family in the dining-room.

"Uncle Thomas could act unconcerned under any circumstances, but I felt so helplessly embarrassed. As you and Esther looked so intently I was sure you saw through that simple disguise. A sense of shame at such conduct made me faint and heartsick. To escape this I quit the table, going to my room. Soon after, through the open connecting door, I saw you and Uncle Thomas enter, and then knew a crisis had come.

"Uncle Thomas related what you had said, and I was greatly puzzled. Your reasons for not promising to keep his proposed confidences then and ever since seemed unaccountable. He advised that we return to the inn, there to await clearing of increasing difficulties.

"What since occurred you well know. I hope to be forgiven for all my strange, unmaidenly conduct. The very worst has been told, except that words can never tell the painful experiences and sorrowful memories of the unhappy past."

Pausing, Alice gave a look of questioning appeal into the expressive, sympathetic face of Sir Donald Randolph. He seemed struggling with some unwonted emotional impediment to proper speech. Rising, he extended his hand, took that of this interesting young woman, and bowing low, in a husky voice said:

"Make no apologies, Alice! You are all right."

Alice felt much relieved, but the strain had been great. For a while she leaned back in wearied collapse.

Sir Donald suggested that she await her uncle, while he saw his family. After the evening meal, he would esteem it a favor to have all meet at Esther's room.

This invitation was accepted.

Sir Donald notified Thomas Webster that Alice awaited him, adding:

"What a grand girl!"