Chapter Chapter 6 · SIDE-LIGHTS

. SIDE-LIGHTS

“Oh! she has beauty might ensnare

A conqueror’s soul, and make him leave his crown

At random, to be scuffled for by slaves.”

OTWAY.

Third floor, rear room, first door at the head of the stairs! What

was I about to encounter there?

Mounting the lower flight, and shuddering by the library wall,

which to my troubled fancy seemed written all over with horrible

suggestions, I took my way slowly up-stairs, revolving in my mind

many things, among which an admonition uttered long ago by my

mother occupied a prominent place.

“My son, remember that a woman with a secret may be a fascinating

study, but she can never be a safe, nor even satisfactory,

companion.”

A wise saw, no doubt, but totally inapplicable to the present

situation; yet it continued to haunt me till the sight of the door

to which I had been directed put every other thought to flight save

that I was about to meet the stricken nieces of a brutally murdered

man.

[Illustration: “Pausing only long enough on the threshold to

compose myself for the interview, I lifted my hand to knock”]

Pausing only long enough on the threshold to compose myself for the

interview, I lifted my hand to knock, when a rich, clear voice rose

from within, and I heard distinctly uttered these astounding words:

“I do not accuse your hand, though I know of none other which would

or could have done this deed; but your heart, your head, your will,

these I do and must accuse, in my secret mind at least; and it is

well that you should know it!”

Struck with horror, I staggered back, my hands to my ears, when a

touch fell on my arm, and turning, I saw Mr. Gryce standing close

beside me, with his finger on his lip, and the last flickering

shadow of a flying emotion fading from his steady, almost

compassionate countenance.

“Come, come,” he exclaimed; “I see you don’t begin to know what

kind of a world you are living in. Rouse yourself; remember they

are waiting down below.”

“But who is it? Who was it that spoke?”

“That we shall soon see.” And without waiting to meet, much less

answer, my appealing look, he struck his hand against the door, and

flung it wide open.

Instantly a flush of lovely color burst upon us. Blue curtains,

blue carpets, blue walls. It was like a glimpse of heavenly azure

in a spot where only darkness and gloom were to be expected.

Fascinated by the sight, I stepped impetuously forward, but

instantly paused again, overcome and impressed by the exquisite

picture I saw before me.

[Illustration: “Her whole appearance was so startling, so

extraordinary, that I held my breath in surprise”]

Seated in an easy chair of embroidered satin, but rousing from her

half-recumbent position, like one who was in the act of launching a

powerful invective, I beheld a glorious woman. Fair, frail, proud,

delicate; looking like a lily in the thick creamy-tinted wrapper

that alternately clung to and swayed from her finely moulded

figure; with her forehead, crowned with the palest of pale tresses,

lifted and flashing with power; one quivering hand clasping the

arm of her chair, the other outstretched and pointing toward some

distant object in the room,--her whole appearance was so startling,

so extraordinary, that I held my breath in surprise, actually for

the moment doubting if it were a living woman I beheld, or some

famous pythoness conjured up from ancient story, to express in one

tremendous gesture the supreme indignation of outraged womanhood.

“Miss