"Who hath done this most foul deed?"
It were hard to tell, perhaps, what broke the head clerk's heavy
slumber. It may have been Guly's wild cry, when he sank quivering to the
floor, which reached his ear, even above the tempest-din. It may have
been that instinct, which, sleeping or waking, teaches the heart to miss
what it loves, or it may have been the natural effect of the drug, which
had spent itself, that aroused him. He opened his eyes, turned heavily,
and instantly became aware that the golden head no longer nestled on his
bosom.
Alarmed, he sprang to his feet in an instant, wide awake. He reached for
the lamp, but found it gone; and, with nothing but a lighted match in
his hand, he started out to look for Guly. The match went out before he
was half way down to the store, but he went on, groping in the thick
darkness, till suddenly his foot struck Guly's body; and with a moan of
agony, he stooped and lifted him in his arms, and bore him hastily back
to his bed, where he laid him down, in wild suspense, not knowing
whether he was alive or dead.
After several minutes he succeeded in finding a store-lamp; but the
moment he lighted it the wind gushed through the open pane and blew it
out, leaving him again in total darkness.
Cursing the luck, he turned to obtain another match, when another gust
of wind rushed in, and swept across his face; and, like a lightning
flash, the truth darted through his brain. Taking the lamp to his own
room, he lighted it there, and finding, to his joy, that Guly still
lived, he immediately applied the restoratives he deemed necessary; and
soon saw the chest heave, the eyelids quiver, and the whole form once
more wearing the glow and motion of life.
"Oh, Wilkins, such a dreadful dream! Horror! horror!"
"There, Guly, compose yourself. Don't tell me about it till you are
better."
Guly obeyed, and lay quite still, trying to recall his wandering senses;
and soon the truth rushed back upon his mind, in all its stern reality,
and he felt it was no dream.
"Have you been in the store, Wilkins?"
"Only in the dark--to bring you back."
"Things are in wild confusion there. Oh, could I have only wakened you,
it might have been different."
"Did you try, then, and fail?"
"Oh, yes; I could not thoroughly waken you, all I could do; you seemed
to be in a sort of stupor. But I was certain that I heard a voice,
something too human in its sound to be the fury of the storm. It was
dark here, and the door was shut."
"The deuce it was! I left the lamp burning, and the door wide open; the
wind must have done that work."
"It was as I tell you; and I went out, having lighted the lamp, and saw
them in the very act, Wilkins, of finishing their robbery. Had I not
been so weak and ill I would have cried aloud to you; but I came upon
them so suddenly--so unexpectedly to myself, in the faint light, that I
was surprised, for the moment, into silence, and then one turned, and
raised his dirk to stab me; but the other, who had on his face a hideous
mask, averted the blow."
"And you fainted?"
"I remember no more," said Guly, shuddering, as he rejected the too
familiar tones, which, in that dread moment, had fallen on his ear.
"I fear," said Wilkins, kindly, "that this excitement has been too much
for you. If you will remain here, and try to get some rest, I will look
after the affairs in the store, and will call up Arthur and Jeff to
assist me."
At the mention of Arthur's name, Guly looked anxious, but expressed his
willingness to accede to this proposition. So, taking the lamp, the
head clerk turned his steps toward the gloomy room at the stair-head,
first taking a casual view of the confusion manifest in the store.
It was not without some slight suspicions, and many misgivings, that
Wilkins went in search of Arthur; but as he pushed open the door, and
looked into the room, an expression of immense relief passed over his
features, and with a freer step he approached his bedside.
Arthur lay there, apparently in a profound slumber. One arm was thrown
listlessly above his head, his dark curls, disheveled and tangled, were
stroked back from his brow, and his cheeks, though hotly flushed, looked
as if bearing the bright glow of some pleasant dream.
Wilkins laid a hand upon his arm, and awakened him. The young man
started up in bed, impatiently asking the cause of his being thus
disturbed. Wilkins told him in as few words as possible, and turned to
awaken Jeff, while Arthur hastily proceeded to dress himself. To his
surprise the head clerk found Jeff already awake, and trembling like an
aspen leaf, as he sat up on his mattress, looking in dismay at Wilkins.
"What's the matter with you, Jeff?"
"Debbil, massa! Didn't I har you say de store broke open?"
"You did; and I want you to be up, and stirring quickly."
"Well, if dis doesn't beat de witches! Nuffin dis kin' eber happen
afore. All jest 'cause dis nigger lef his post. See'f ole Massa don't
say dat."
Wilkins bade him talk less, and dress quick; and in a few minutes the
three descended the stairs together.
The fury of the storm was well-nigh spent; and the flashes of lightning,
and loud peals of thunder, came at longer intervals. Faint streaks of
light in the horizon, also told of scattering clouds, and approaching
dawn. Closing the open pane as well as he could, so that he could carry
his lamp without danger of its being extinguished, Wilkins, with Jeff
and Arthur, proceeded to examine the "amount of damage done."
Suddenly Wilkins paused, and pointing out a number of clearly-defined
tracks upon the floor, distinctly marked, in yet moist mud, he bade them
be careful in preserving them as they might possibly give some faint
clue to the robber, whoever he was. Jeff's quick eye caught at that
moment what Wilkins failed to see--he observed that Arthur eagerly
inspected the foot-prints, and cast a furtive glance from them to his
own feet, as if to note if there were any similitude; and he saw, too,
as the youth bent beneath the rays of the lamp, that his black curls, in
one or two places, sparkled with heavy rain-drops. Jeff's ready mouth
was open to speak; when the thought of Guly flitted, like a restraining
angel, before him, and he remained silent; but, with his quick mind,
convinced of Arthur's knowledge of the affair.
It was decided, that as soon as it was day, Jeff should be dispatched
for Mr. Delancey; and, waiting for the dawn to break, they gathered
round Guly's bed, to discuss the events of the night, and propose
measures for the future.
When Mr. Delancey arrived he said but little, going about to see what
goods had been taken--minutely examining the spot where the apparent
entrance had been made, and silently drawing his own conclusions.
When the foot-print upon the floor was pointed out to him, he started,
and turned slightly pale; inspecting it at the same time closely. There
were marks of other feet, but they were mixed and confused, but this had
gone higher in the store than the rest; there were tracks going and
returning. The foot was small, elegantly-shaped, and, from appearance,
with an instep so high that water might flow freely under without
soiling the sole. After examining it for awhile, Mr. Delancey was
observed to set his own foot on it, as if to note if there were any
similitude. He turned away with a puzzled look, but in a few minutes
called Jeff to him.
"How came you away from your post last night, eh?"
Jeff explained.
"Well, how came this handkerchief of yours, and this jack-knife, that I
gave you the other day, lying near the broken pane, in the bow-window,
this morning, eh! you black rascal? tell me that!"
Jeff trembled in every joint, and caught hold of a chair for support.
"Guy, Massa, dem tings was in my pocket last night, jis 'fore I went to
bed; I remember usin' 'em 'fore Mr. Quirk went out; but I'se sure I know
nuffin more 'bout 'em."
"Don't you lie to me, sir! If you've had a hand in this business, I'll
have your black neck twisted off, I will. Get out of my sight!"
The expression of poor Jeff's face was pitiful to behold. He turned
away, with his trembling hands clasped before him, and his great eyes
looking upward, as if imploring mercy.
Mr. Delancey then went into Guly's room, and listened to his recital of
what had occurred, so far as he knew, during the night.
"And you are sure you have seen this young man, who drew his dirk on
you, before?"
"Positive of it, sir. I caught but a glimpse of him last night, but it
was sufficient to show me who it was."
"If I send for an officer, you will describe him?"
"To the best of my ability, sir."
"Be up to-day, I s'pose, won't you?" added the merchant, putting his
head into the room after he had gone out.
"Shall try to do so, sir."
"Sure you know nothing of that other scamp?"
"As I told you, sir, he was masked closely, and--"
The door closed without giving him time to finish the sentence; a fact,
which Guly was not sorry for.
Mr. Delancey ordered the store to be kept closed until things could be
put in proper order; gave Wilkins orders to purchase and replace, as far
as possible, the stolen goods, then stepped into his carriage, and drove
home to breakfast.
The merchant's commands were always promptly obeyed. The officer came to
converse with Guly--the broken shutter and window-pane were mended or
replaced--new goods wore purchased, and put in place of the old ones,
and by afternoon no one would have suspected that a robbery had been
committed at No. -- Chartres-street.