A STARTLING DISCLOSURE
At last Alden said, "Mr. Durgan, I came here this morning at the request
of my clients and dear friends to make a communication to you. When I
have made it you will understand why I should have been glad had you
been certain that during the evening no one could have left or entered
the house--this negro or any other person. Have you any idea of what I
am going to tell you?"
"I am aware that these ladies are, for some good reason, hiding. This
information came to me by accident. The secret is safe with me. I have
no wish to know more."
"No doubt it is safe, and we are happy that it should be in your
keeping. May I ask if you came to guess it solely from those letters
which this unhappy pair opened; or did any other circumstance----?"
"Solely through that accident."
"You feel convinced that this knowledge was only shared by these two?"
"I quite think so. Adam will never tell. He is as safe as I am."
"And the woman is dead."
For the first time Durgan put the two circumstances together. He felt
vexed.
"You will naturally suppose," said Alden, "that when Adam is tried, my
clients will go into court and give evidence as to his excellent
character. But if it is possible to prevent it, they must not do that.
It was never by my advice that they secluded themselves and took an
assumed name; it was Bertha who insisted upon seclusion. I would have
preferred that they had had strength to live in the open. I should not
have greatly cared had all the country found out who they were, but for
this crime, which is the most unfortunate that could have happened at
their doors. Their identity must now be hid, if it is possible without
wickedness."
Durgan had been trying jealously to find some element of falsity beneath
the Northerner's quiet face and dapper exterior. Now he no longer
doubted his sincerity. The lawyer sat looking absently down where the
beautiful valley lay in all its summer tranquillity, framed in the peace
of the eternal hills, and Durgan saw the beads of sweat break upon his
brow. He was convinced that he had more than the interest of clients at
stake, that his whole heart was in some way concerned in this matter.
Alden spoke slowly. "I have known these women since Bertha was a mere
girl. Eight years ago I was working in the same mission school with the
elder sister. For three years we met twice a week, with the most sacred
of all interests in common. Constantly I had the pleasure of walking to
or fro with her, and we talked together on the great theme of religion.
After that I knew her intimately in the midst of the greatest sorrows a
woman could endure. I have strengthened our friendship by every means in
my power ever since. Is it possible that I could be mistaken in her
character?"
His small blue eyes had grown deeper and bluer as he spoke; the lines
about them also deepened. Sorrow, and that of the nobler sort, was
written there. Durgan liked him.
"I am sure that our friend is a true woman," said he.
"And yet, Mr. Durgan, she is publicly believed to have committed the
most barbarous of crimes. She is Hermione Claxton."
Durgan uttered an exclamation of dismay. The two men turned from each
other with mute accord.
To Durgan it seemed strange and terrible that here, in these splendid
mountain solitudes, the edge of such a shameful thing should enter his
own life. Below the rock, the forest in glossy leaf breathed in the
perfect sunlight; rank below rank stood shining trees like angelic hosts
in pictures of heaven. The air was filled with the lullaby of unseen
herd-bells. Afar, where the valley widened and purpled, the mountain
stream, in quiet waters, was descried, and sunny fields.
Before Durgan's mind lay the daily papers of the time of the notorious
trial of Hermione Claxton--the sensational headlines, the discursive
leaders. In his ears echoed the universal conversation of that
time--voices in street-cars, hotels, and streets. The natural horror of
brutal deeds, which had made him recoil then, darkened his outlook now
like a cloud. But in the midst of this obscurity upon all things two
figures stood, a moving vision--Bertha, fresh and beautiful, faulty and
lovable, and beside her the fragile sister, gray-haired and upright,
with steadfast face turned heavenward.
Alden spoke first. "You are aware, Mr. Durgan, that Mr. Claxton and his
second wife were suddenly killed, that a large body of circumstantial
evidence proved that Hermione was alone in the house with them, that by
her own arranging she was alone with them--in fact, I must say there was
complete circumstantial proof that she had committed the heinous crime.
There was even motive, if just anger and love of money are motive
enough. Against this stood, I may say, only her personality, for so
reticent and modest is she that few know her character. To my mind, it
is a great honor to America that the twelve ordinary men who formed the
jury could be so impressed by her personality that, while the whole
world hooted, they were resolute in a verdict of acquittal."
"It was you--your eloquence that did it."
"So the world said; but I only appealed to their sense of truth, and out
of the truth of their hearts they pronounced her 'not guilty.' You are
aware, Mr. Durgan, that the world pronounced another verdict."
Durgan would have been glad to be silent. In the rush of his thought he
was conscious that he chose the most childish thing to say.
"But--but--someone must have done it."
When Alden did not seem to find this remark worthy even of assent he
hastened, stumbling, to explain it. "I would be understood to mean
that, familiar as you were with them, it is hardly possible that you do
not suspect, do not, perhaps, know, who might be guilty. I am not, of
course, asking you who--I have not the slightest right to ask--but----"
"Do you suggest that, while the whole nation was roused, and rightly, to
demand justice, I screened the sinner? Mr. Durgan, I come of Puritan
descent. So strongly do I feel the wickedness of lax justice that if my
own son had done it I would have led him to the scaffold."
Durgan believed him. There had flashed out of this little, dainty man so
hot a spark from the lightnings of Mount Sinai that the onlooker felt
for the moment scorched by the sudden heat.
Also by this time Durgan had perceived that his imputation had really
arisen, not from the public reports of the case, or from Alden's
epitome, but from his knowledge of Bertha's perplexity, terror, and
distress. He was glad that Alden went on without waiting for reply.
"You must surely be aware, Mr. Durgan, that, admitting the daughter's
innocence, the case was one of those termed 'mysteries,' and ranks among
the most obscure of these. The murder must have been the work of some
maniac intruder; my own suspicions have always centered about a boy who
certainly came to the house that morning, but was never heard of after,
altho large rewards were offered. But that only shifts the unknown a
step farther back. Who was this boy who could so vanish? Who sent him,
and who concealed him? Indeed, Mr. Durgan, who can have thought on this
problem as I have done? And there were many even astute lawyers and
commercial men who have confessed to me that they induced insomnia by
merely trying to conceive an adequate explanation. Remember that the
dual crime and the vanishing of this boy occurred at midday in a
fashionable neighborhood, in a household noted for propriety, elegance,
and culture. I, who know more than anyone else, know nothing; but this I
do say, Mr. Durgan: rather than believe Hermione Claxton guilty, I would
believe that the deed was done by an invisible fiend from the nether
world; and I am not superstitious."
"I quite agree with you. Anyone who knows Miss Claxton must agree with
you. She is innocent of every evil thought."
But he felt that he spoke mechanically. His mind was turning with more
and more distress and bewilderment to Bertha's talk and behavior. He was
glad when Alden went away for the time, altho he knew that the question
of Adam's defense must be quickly settled.
Alden left him with the words: "I will come back, Mr. Durgan. You can
see now that if that insane thing called the public got hold of the fact
that the victim of last week's crime belonged to the Claxton household,
unless it could be proved that no one issued from the house that
evening----"
"I understand," Durgan answered with ill-controlled impatience.
The small man squared his shoulders and looked up staunchly. "We must
save her at any cost, save that of breaking God's law."