THE SEARCH.
"This is intolerable," muttered old Aaron Rockharrt, in a tone as who
should say: "How dare Fate set herself to baffle ME?"
He then took tablets and pencil from his pocket and wrote the following
telegram:
COZZENS HOTEL, WEST POINT,
May ----, 18--
To M. MARTIN, ESQ., Blank House, New York City:
Just received your dispatch. There has been foul play. Report the
case at police headquarters. Set private detective on the track of
the missing lady. Last seen at the gate of the Hudson River
Railway depot, waiting for 7:30 a.m. train for West Point
yesterday morning, but not seen on train. Give me prompt notice of
any news.
AARON ROCKHARRT.
He beckoned a waiter and sent the message to be dispatched from the
office of the hotel.
Then he set himself to finish his dinner.
After dinner he went out on the piazza.
Cora followed him. There was quite a number of people out there, seeing
whom, he walked out upon the open grounds.
"May I come with you, grandfather?" inquired Cora.
"If you like," was the short answer.
As they walked on he said:
"I think it possible that Mrs. Stillwater, after missing our train, left
for North End."
"Yes, it is possible," assented Cora.
No more was said. They walked on for half an hour and then returned to
the hotel and bade each other good night.
The next morning they met in the parlor.
Old Aaron Rockharrt was reading a New York morning paper. Cora went up
and bade him good morning.
He merely nodded and went on reading. Presently he burst out with:
"By ----! This must be Mrs. Stillwater!"
"Who? What?" eagerly inquired Cora, going to his side.
"Here! Read!" exclaimed the Iron King, handing her the sheet and
pointing out the paragraph.
Cora took the paper with trembling hands and read as follows:
"A MYSTERY.--Yesterday morning at six o'clock an unknown
young woman of about twenty-five or thirty years of age, of medium
height, plump form, fair complexion and yellow hair, clothed in a
rich suit of widow's mourning, was found in a state of coma in the
ladies' dressing room of the Hudson River Railway station. She was
taken to St. L----'s Hospital. There was nothing on her person to
reveal her name or address."
"That must have been Mrs. Stillwater," said old Aaron Rockharrt.
"I think there is no question of it," replied Cora.
"No doubt the poor child was suddenly seized with one of her terrible
neuralgic headaches, caused by the pressure of that infernal crowd at
the gate, and she stole away, as before, lest she should disturb us and
prevent our journey; the most self-sacrificing creature I ever met. No
doubt she meant to telegraph to us, but was prevented by the sudden
reaction from agony to stupor. Ah! I hope it is not a fatal stupor."
"I hope not, sir."
"Cora!"
"Yes, sir."
"We must leave for New York by the next train. If Sylvanus is not free
to go with us, he can follow us. Come, let us go down and get some
breakfast."
Cora arose and went with her grandfather down to the breakfast room.
When they had taken their places at one of the tables and given their
orders to one of the waiters, old Aaron Rockharrt drew a time table from
his pocket and consulted it.
"There is a down train stops at Garrison's at 10:50. We will take that."
As soon as they had breakfasted, and as they were leaving the table,
another telegram was handed to Mr. Rockharrt. He opened it and read as
follows:
BLANK HOUSE, New York, May ----, 18--
The missing lady is in St. L----'s Hospital.
M. MARTIN.
"It is true, then! true as we surmised. Mrs. Stillwater was the unknown
lady found unconscious in the dressing room of the Hudson River Railroad
and taken to St. L----'s. Cora!"
"Yes, sir."
"Go and pack our effects immedately. I will go down and settle the bill
and leave a letter of explanation for Sylvanus. Get your bonnet on and
be ready. The carriage will be at the door in twenty minutes."
Cora hurried off to her room and to her grandfather's room, which
adjoined hers, to prepare for the sudden journey. She quickly packed and
labeled their traveling bags, and rang for a porter to take them down
stairs.
Then she put on her bonnet and duster and went down and joined her
grandfather in the parlor.
"Come," he said, "the carriage is at the door and our traps on the box.
I have written to Sylvanus, telling him to join us at the Blank House,
where we will wait for him."
He turned abruptly and went out, followed by Cora.
They entered the waiting carriage and were rapidly driven down to the
ferry.
The boat was at the wharf. They alighted from the carriage and went on
board.
Old Aaron Rockharrt's hot haste did not avail them much. The boat
remained at the wharf for ten minutes, during which the Iron King
secretly fumed and fretted.
"Does this boat connect with the 10:50 train for New York?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir," was the answer.
"Then you will miss it."
"Oh, no, sir."
The five remaining minutes seemed hours, but they passed at length and
the boat left the shore, and old Aaron Rockharrt walked up and down the
deck impatiently.
As they neared the other side the whistle of a down train was heard
approaching.
"There! I said you would miss it!" exclaimed the Iron King.
"That train does not stop here, sir," was the good humored answer.
The boat touched the wharf at Garrison's, and the passengers got off.
Old Aaron Rockharrt led his granddaughter up to the platform to wait for
the train; but no train was in sight or hearing.
Mr. Rockharrt looked at his watch.
"After all, we have seven minutes to wait," he growled, as if time and
tide were much in fault at not being at his beck and call.
"Had we not better go into the waiting room?" suggested Cora.
"No, we will stand here," replied the Iron King, who on general
principles never acted upon a suggestion.
So there they stood--the old man growling at intervals as he looked up
the road; Cora gazing out upon the fine scenery of river and mountain.
Presently the whirr of the coming train was heard. In a minute more it
rushed into the station and stopped. There were no other down passengers
except Mr. Rockharrt and Mrs. Rothsay.
He handed her up, and took her to a seat. The car was not half full. The
tide of travel was northward, not southward at this season.
They were scarcely seated when the train started again. They reached New
York just before noon.
"Carriage, sir? Carriage, ma'am? Carriage? Carriage? Carriage?" screamed
a score of hackmen's voices, as the passengers came out on the sidewalk.
Mr. Rockharrt beckoned the best-looking turnout and handed his
granddaughter into it.
"Drive to St. L----'s Hospital," he said.
The hackman touched his hat and drove off. In less than fifteen minutes
he drew up before the front of St. L----'s.
The hackman jumped down, went up and rang the bell. Then he came back to
the carriage and opened the door.
Mr. Rockharrt got out, followed by his granddaughter.
"Wait here!" he said to the hackman, as he went to the door, which was
promptly opened by an attendant.
"I wish to see the physician in charge here, or the head of the
hospital, or whatever may be his official title," said the Iron King.
"You mean the Rev. Dr. ----"
"Yes, yes; take him my card."
"Walk in the parlor, sir."
The attendant conducted the party into a spacious, plainly furnished
reception or waiting room, saw them seated, and then took away Mr.
Rockharrt's card.
A few minutes passed, and a tall, white haired, venerable form, clothed
in a long black coat and a round skull cap, entered the room, looking
from side to side for his visitor.
Mr. Rockharrt got up and went to meet him.
"Mr. Rockharrt, of North End?" courteously inquired the venerable man.
"The same. Dr. ----, I presume."
"Yes, sir. Pray be seated. And this lady?" inquired the venerable
doctor, courteously turning toward Cora.
"Oh--my granddaughter, Mrs. Rothsay."
The aged man shook hands kindly with Cora, and then turned to Mr.
Rockharrt, as if silently questioning his will.
"I came to inquire about the lady who was found in an unconscious state
at the Hudson River Railway depot. How is she?" The old man's anxiety
betrayed itself even through his deliberate words.
"She is better. You know the lady?"
"More than know her--have been intimate with her for many years. She is
our guest and traveling companion. She got separated from us in the
crowd which was pressing through the railway gate to take the train
yesterday morning. I surely thought when I missed her that she had found
her way to some car. But it appears that she was seized with vertigo, or
something, and so missed the train."
"Yes; a lady, one of our regular visitors, found her there, by
Providence, in a state of deep stupor, and being unable to discover her
friends, or name, or address, put her in a carriage and brought her
directly here."
"She is better, you say? I wish to see her and take her back to our
apartments," said Mr. Rockharrt.
"I will send for one of the nurses to take you to her room. You will
excuse me. I am momentarily expecting the Dean of Olivet, who is on a
visit to our city, and comes to-day to go through the hospital," said
the doctor, and he rang a bell.
"The dean here? Why, I thought we left him at West Point," said Mr.
Rockharrt.
"He came down by a late train last night, I understand. He makes but a
flying tour through the country, and cannot stay at any one place," the
venerable doctor explained. And then he touched the bell again.
The same man who had let our party in came to the door to answer the
call.
"Say to Sister Susannah that I would like to see her here," said the
doctor.
The man went out and was presently succeeded by a sweet faced, middle
aged woman in a black dress and a neat white cap.
"Here are the friends of the young lady who was brought in yesterday
morning. Will you please to take them to the bedside of your patient?"
The Protestant sister nodded pleasantly and led off the visitors.
As they went up the main staircase they heard the front door bell ring,
the door opened, and the Dean of Olivet, with some gentlemen in his
company, entered the hall.
Our party, after one glance, passed up the stairs, through an upper hall
and a corridor, and paused before a door which Sister Susannah opened.
They entered a small, clean, neat room, where, clothed in a white
wrapper, reclining in a white easy chair, beside a white curtained
window, and near a white bed, sat Rose Stillwater. She was looking, not
only pale, but sallow--as she had never looked before.
Rose Stillwater held out one hand to Mr. Rockharrt and one to Cora
Rothsay, in silence and with a faint smile.
The sister, seeing this recognition, set two cane bottomed chairs for
the visitors and then went out, leaving them alone with the patient.
"Good Lord, my dear, how did all this come about?" inquired old Aaron
Rockharrt, as he sank heavily upon one of the chairs, making it creak
under him.
"It was while we stood in the crowd. I was pressed almost out of breath.
Then the terrible pang shot through my head, and I ceased to struggle
and let everybody pass before me. I dropped down on one of the benches.
I had taken a morphia pellet before I left the hotel. I had the medicine
in my pocket. I took another then--"
"Very wrong, my dear. Very wrong, my dear, to meddle with that drug,
without the advice of a physician."
"Yes; I know it now, but I did not know it then. The second pellet
stopped my headache, and I went to the ladies' dressing room to recover
myself a little, so as to be able to write a telegram saying that I
would follow you by the next train, but there a stupor came over me, and
I knew no more until I awoke late last night and found myself here."
"How perilous, my child! In that stupor you might have been robbed or
kidnapped by persons who might have pretended to be your relations and
carried you off and murdered you for your clothing," said old Aaron
Rockharrt, unconscious in his native rudeness that he was frightening
and torturing a very nervous invalid.
"But," urged Rose--who had grown paler at the picture conjured
up--"providentially I was found by the kind lady who sent or rather
brought me here, and even caused me to be put in this room instead of in
a ward. Sister Susannah explained this to me as soon as I was able to
make inquiries."
"Now, my dear, do you feel able to go back with us to the Blank House,
where we are now again staying and waiting for Sylvanus to join us?"
"Oh, yes; I shall be glad to go, though all here are most tender and
affectionate to me. But I would like to see and thank the doctor for all
his goodness. How like the ideal of the beloved apostle he seems to
me--so mild, so tender, so reverend."
"I think you cannot wait for that to-day, my dear. The reverend doctor
is engaged with the Dean of Olivet, who is going through the hospital."
Rose Stillwater's face blanched.
"Will they--will they--will they--come into this room?"
"Of course not! And if they should, you are up and in your chair. And if
you were not, they are a party of ministers of the gospel and medical
doctors, and you would not mind if they should see you in bed. You are a
nervous child to be so easily alarmed. It is the effect of the reaction
from your stupor," said Mr. Rockharrt.
"I will go with you, however, if I may," said Rose Stillwater, touching
the hand bell, that soon brought an attendant into the room.
"Will you ask Sister Susannah, please, to come to me?" said Mrs.
Stillwater.
The attendant went out and was soon succeeded by the sister.
"My friends wish to take me away, and I feel quite able to go with
them--in a carriage. Will you please find the doctor and ask him?"
inquired Mrs. Stillwater.
The sister smiled assent and went out.
Soon the venerable man entered the room.
"I hope I find you better, my child," he said, coming to the easy chair
in which sat and reclined the patient.
"Very much better, thank you, sir; so much that I feel quite able to go
out with my friends, if I may."
"Certainly, my child, if you like."
"I hope I have not detained you from your friends," said Rose.
"No. I left the dean in conversation with an English patient from his
old parish. It was an accidental meeting, but a most interesting one."
"Does--the dean--contemplate a long stay in the city?" Rose forced
herself to ask.
"Oh, no; he leaves to-night by one of the Sound steamers for Boston and
Newport. His English temperament feels the heat of the city even more
than we do."
Rose felt it in her heart to wish that the climate might "burn as an
oven," if it should drive the British dean away.
"But I must not leave my visitors longer. So if you will excuse me,
sir," he said, turning to Mr. Rockharrt, "I will take leave of my
patient and her friends here."
He shook hands all around, receiving the warm thanks of the whole party.
When the venerable doctor left the room, Mr. Rockharrt withdrew to the
corridor to give the nurse an opportunity to dress the convalescent for
her journey.
He walked up and down the corridor for a few minutes, at the end of
which Rose Stillwater came out dressed for her drive, and leaning on the
arm of Cora Rothsay.
Mr. Rockharrt hastened to meet her, and took her off Cora's hands, and
drew her arm within his own.
So they went down stairs and entered the carriage that was waiting for
them.
A drive of fifteen minutes brought them to the Blank House.
"Grandfather," said Cora, as they alighted and went into the house, Rose
leaning on Mr. Rockharrt's arm--"Grandfather, I think, now that the rush
of travelers have passed northward, you may be able to get me another
room. In Mrs. Stillwater's nervous condition it cannot be agreeable to
her to have the disturbance of a room-mate."
"What do you say, my child?" inquired Mr. Rockharrt of his guest.
"Sweet Cora never could disturb me under any circumstances, but it
cannot be good for her to room with such a nervous creature as I am just
at present," replied Rose.
"Umph! It appears to me that you two women wish to have separate rooms
each only for the welfare of the other. Well, you shall have them. Take
Mrs. Stillwater up stairs, Cora, while I step into the office," said Mr.
Rockharrt.
Cora drew the convalescent's arm within her own, and helped her to climb
the easy flight of stairs, and took her into the parlor, where they were
presently joined by the Iron King.
"I have also engaged a private sitting room, so that we need not go down
to the public table, and dinner will be laid for us there in a few
minutes. You need not lay off your wraps until you go there; and if
there is any special dish that you would particularly like, my dear, I
hope you will order it at once. Come." And he offered his arm to Mrs.
Stillwater, to whom, indeed, he had addressed all his remarks.
He led her from the public parlor, followed by his granddaughter. The
little sitting room which Mr. Rockharrt had been able to engage was just
across the hall.
On entering they found the table laid for a party of three.
Neither Mr. Rockharrt nor Cora had broken fast since their early
breakfast at West Point. The old gentleman was very hungry.
Dinner was soon served, and two of the party did full justice to the
good things set before them; but Rose Stillwater could touch nothing.
She had not recovered her appetite since her overdose of morphia. In
vain her host recommended this or that dish, for the more appetizing the
flavor, the more she detested them.
At last when dinner was over, Mr. Rockharrt recommended her to retire to
rest. She readily took his advice and bade him good night.
Cora volunteered to see their guest to her chamber.
"You will look at both rooms, Mrs. Stillwater, and take your choice
between them," she said, as she led the guest into the new chamber
engaged for one of the ladies.
"Oh, my dear Cora, I do not care where I drop myself down, so that I get
rest and sleep. Oh, Cora! I have been so frightened! Suppose I had died
in that opium sleep!" exclaimed Mrs. Stillwater, speaking frankly for at
least once in her life.
"You should not have tampered with such a dangerous drug," said Mrs.
Rothsay.
"Oh, I took it to stop the maddening pain that seemed to be killing me,"
exclaimed Rose Stillwater, as she let herself drop into an easy chair;
not speaking frankly this time, for she had taken the morphia to quiet
her nerves, and enable her to decide upon some course by which she might
avoid meeting with the Dean of Olivet again, and some excuse for
withdrawing herself so suddenly from her traveling party.
"So you will remain here?" inquired Cora.
"Oh, yes. I would remain anywhere sooner than move another step."
"Then I will help to get you to bed. Where is your bag?"
"Bag? Bag? I--I don't know! I have not seen it since I fell into that
stupor! It must be at the depot or at the hospital."
"Then I will get you a night dress," said Cora.
And then she ran off to her own room, and soon returned with a white
cambric gown, richly trimmed with lace.
When she had prepared her guest for bed, and put her into it, she
lowered the gas and left her to repose. Then she went to her own room,
satisfied to be alone with her memories once more. Soon after she heard
the slow and heavy steps of her grandfather as he passed into his room.