As the terrible thought came to Leonie, with all its frightful import,
she endeavored to conceive some plan by which she could save herself,
knowing that upon the quickness of her action alone depended her chance
of life.
And life never appears so intensely sweet as when we are looking the
loss of it squarely in the face.
Yet what was she to do?
She knew that she had as well undertake to move the fingers of a hand
cast in iron as those upon her throat.
It required not an instant of time for those thoughts to flash briefly
through her head, but the time seemed ages to her strained nerves.
Still, under all the excitement and horrors of the night, her mind had
never seemed so clear, so perfectly capable of coping with positions
that appeared hopeless.
Endeavoring to restrain her breathing, so that she could endure the
choking as long as possible, she threw a quick glance about her. Within
reach was the pistol that the officer had torn from Ben's hand, and
had, in his subsequent haste, evidently forgotten.
She shuddered as she caught sight of it, but at that moment the fingers
resumed a closer hold.
She gave herself a fierce wrench, and endeavored to turn herself in the
terrible grasp, but she was like a piece of metal held by a trip-hammer.
Under the strain of hideous necessity, she put out her hand and grasped
the revolver.
In it she saw the only hope of life, but what a frightful hope it was!
Still there was not an instant to lose.
It seems to require a hundred words in cold type to describe the action
of a second, for certainly it was not much longer than that before the
little weapon of death was clasped firmly in Leonie's hands.
Unaccustomed as she was to the handling of such instruments, and
further affected by the terror of the moment, her finger came first in
contact with the trigger.
It was self-acting, and before she realized that it was really in her
possession, there was a frightful explosion, and the next moment she
felt the hands drop from her throat.
The concussion put the light out, and she was in absolute darkness,
with death and lunacy!
It was not an enviable position, most particularly as she had no idea
of the extent of the damage done by the pistol.
Her excitement was almost unbearable.
She turned in Liz's direction.
Even in the darkness she could not fail to see the phosphorescent glare
from the wild eyes of the woman that glittered like those of a cat.
With a quick dodge, Leonie passed her, sprawling over a chair in the
darkness, but with the dexterity of mania Liz followed her.
A chase ensued that for dramatic horror could not be excelled, and
yet, perhaps, the interest was felt most by the participator who was
conscious of the terrible danger in which she was placed.
She still had the revolver clasped in her hand, being pretty sure that
at least three chambers were still full, but that was to be used only
as a last resort.
Then, to her surprise, Liz paused. She could see her quite distinctly
by the glare in her eyes.
"Liz," she said, gently, "don't you know who I am? Why do you want to
hurt me, dear? I am Leonie! Leonie, whom Dick loved, and who loves both
you and him! Don't you know that, Liz?"
The woman laughed hoarsely.
"You can't deceive me!" she answered in a tone that was horrible. "You
are Ben, and you have come to beat my poor boy when he is dying! But
you shall not do it! Do you hear that? I have been a good wife to you,
but it is ended now! You shall not beat my child again, and in order to
keep you from it, I am going to kill you!"
"Listen to my voice, Liz, and let that convince you that I am not Ben.
Indeed you are wrong, dear. Don't you know how we were talking just
now about the will that was made, and you said that Ben knew where it
was? Don't you remember how poor little Dick tried to tell us something
about it? I am Leonie, Liz; can't you understand that, dear?"
She shook her head.
"You are trying to deceive me, but you can't do it."
"Then if I promise you that I will not touch Dick!"
"You can't fool me; I knew you were Ben, but you thought I would not
recognize you in the darkness. I am going to kill you, then I am going
to take my boy and go away where no one will ever know. Oh, I have
thought of it often, often! I have all my plans made, and when they
find you they will never suspect that I had anything to do with it. I
have always known that it would come to this sooner or later, and I
have thought many times of how I would do it--just with this long, thin
knife that I have got in my hand. It will go to your heart so easily
that I don't think that any one will ever see the wound that it will
make. I don't want to hurt you any more than I can, for I used to love
you, Ben; but I am going to free Dick. Do you hear, Ben? I hope you are
ready to die, for as there is a God your time has come!"
There in the darkness, with only those glittering eyes visible, and the
faintest outline of her surroundings, even with a revolver clasped in
her hand, the position was one of almost incalculable danger to Leonie,
who knew as little about a revolver as a child.
Her teeth chattered with terror.
She saw the woman creeping toward her again, and a wild desire to
escape if the most desperate chances were required, took possession of
her. Her heart seemed almost to stop its beating.
She turned and fled, careless of direction, and the next instant
tripped over something, tumbling to the floor with a crash!
The pistol flew from her hand.
Feeling that every moment was precious, she groped about for it, but it
was not to be found. Then she felt the brush of a woman's skirt over
her.
Liz bent downward.
Leonie believed that her hour had come, but with a last struggle for
precious life, she caught the woman's feet at the ankles and upset her.
The respite was only momentary.
She readily understood that an attempt to cope with insanity was but
another form of madness, and leaping to her feet, she approached the
window.
Her resolve was desperate. She would trust to a jump in preference to a
lunatic.
Then at the last moment, Heaven seemed to come to her rescue.
As she threw up the sash, she caught sight of a rope that was attached
to the sill, for some purpose of Ben's own. Hastily securing the end in
a knot around her waist, she sprung upon the sill and let herself down.
She did not pause to consider the danger. It was alluring beside that
which she had but just escaped.
Down, down she went through the gloom of the night into the street, but
before she reached the pavement, she felt a heavy hand laid upon her.
Rough as the grasp was, it felt like the hand of Heaven to her.
"You young rascal!" a voice exclaimed. "What are you doing leaving a
house in that fashion in the dead of night?"
Leonie grasped the hand and shook it. There were tears in her voice and
in her eyes, tears that were the result of hysteria.
"I have been fighting with a maniac," she exclaimed, hastily. "For
God's sake look!"
She had glanced up at the window through which she had escaped, and as
she did so the street lamp showed her the figure of a woman standing in
it.
"Don't jump, Liz! Don't, for the love of Heaven!" she shrieked, wildly.
"You will kill yourself! There is no rope to save you, and there would
not be a chance! Oh, Liz, for God's sake go back!"
But the voice only seemed alluring to the woman upon the sill.
She jumped from it back into the room, and as Leonie thought she had
listened to her warning, she saw her appear there again with something
clasped in her arms.
Before the girl could open her mouth through the horror upon her, there
was a wild scream of laughter, and the next moment Liz had leaped into
the air, with the burden still held closely to her.
Breathless, ghastly with hideous fear, Leonie grasped the hand of the
man who stood in silence beside her.
People in the neighborhood who had heard the wild cry that the
stillness of the night made all the more shrill and fierce, put their
heads out of the window to see the cause, and in a moment the street
was crowded with men, boys and even women, some drawing on their coats
and others not even taking that precaution against the dampness of the
night.
Then some one with more presence of mind than the rest summoned an
ambulance.
The police arrived, then the ambulance, and with tenderness and care
the woman and child were placed within.
"Is she dead?" whispered Leonie to the ambulance surgeon.
"No," he answered, kindly. "She is not dead, but it might be kinder to
her if she were. The child is dead. Is she your mother, my boy?"
It was the first time that Leonie had thought of her clothes, and her
face colored slightly as she answered:
"No, sir, not my mother, but my friend! Her husband was arrested
to-night and taken to jail for trying to kill her child. He died of----"
But the surgeon had no time for details. It was necessary to get the
woman to the hospital as soon as possible, and giving the address to
Leonie, he gave the order to the driver.
The man who had first arrived upon the scene turned to Leonie.
"If you will come home with me," he said, "I will see that you have a
place to sleep to-night."
"You are very kind, sir," she answered, "but I think I cannot go."
"You do not mean that you will remain in that house alone?"
But Leonie remembered the letters that she must secure that night if
ever, and replied bravely:
"I shall not be afraid. There can be no danger now. Good-night, sir,
and thank you."
She turned and left him, after taking his address, and once more
entered the house where her experiences had been so alarming.
To a person of the strongest nerves the prospect was not a pleasant
one, but at least there was nothing to harm her now.
With that consolation she entered the hall and closed the door behind
her.