"You shall have it," responded the judge.
The Aikens withdrew sullenly, and the bailiff indicated that the
defendant and her party might retire to an inner office while papers
were being prepared; and this they did. This room proved to be a bare,
bleak place, with benches and yellow wooden chairs, as ugly as a country
railway station, wherein a few officers were carelessly lounging about.
They all gazed curiously at Mrs. Ollnee and Leo, and one of them
muttered to the other, "It's not often that a classy bunch like that
comes into court."
The indignity of it all caused Leo to forget her own share in the
traction company's failure. "It is shameful that you should be dragged
here," she said, when the door closed behind them.
"Leo!" cried Mrs. Ollnee, in agonized voice. "Do you realize that this
failure means almost as much of a loss to you as it does to Louise?"
This affected the girl only for an instant. Then she loyally said:
"Yes, I know. But I do not blame you for it."
Mrs. Ollnee turned to her son. "If all they say is true, Victor, we are
the victims of some lying devils--"
Leo soothingly laid her hand on her arm. "Let us not think about that
just now. Let us wait until we are safely out of this dreadful place."
Victor perceived that his mother was shaken to the very deeps of her
faith. She was trembling with excitement and weakness, and his anxiety
deepened into a fear that she might faint. "There are devils here," she
whispered. "I feel them all about me--bestial, horrible--take me away!"
"Can't we go now?" he asked of the officer, who seemed to have an eye on
them. "My mother is not well."
"Wait till the bail is fixed up," the officer replied, pleasantly but
inexorably.
They remained in silence till Mrs. Joyce and Mr. Bartol appeared. Then
Victor hurried his mother out into the street, eager to escape the
desolating air of this moral charnel-house. It was by no means a
perfectly pure atmosphere without, but it was fresher than within, and
Mrs. Ollnee revived almost instantly. "Oh, the swarms of unclean spirits
in there!" she said, looking back with a face of horror.
Mrs. Joyce put her into the car with Leo and told them to go directly
home, while she, with Victor, took Mr. Bartol to his office. Victor,
stunned by the new and crushing blow which had fallen upon him, turned
to the great lawyer with a boy's trust and admiration. "What can we do?"
he asked, as soon as they had taken their seats in the car.
Mr. Bartol did not attempt to make light of the case. His dark, strong
face was very grave as he answered: "For the present we can do very
little beyond getting our bearings. It seems to me at the moment as
though the whole question hinged upon the possibility of dual
personality, and so far as I am concerned, I have no mind upon that
matter. I must give it attention before I can reply. Our immediate
concern is to keep your mother from further trouble and assault. If, as
the prosecution stated, there are others in this fight, they and the
press can make it very unpleasant for you all. Miss Florence Aiken has a
powerful and vindictive pen. She will not cease her persecution--for she
is at the bottom of the case."
Mrs. Joyce turned to him with eager face. "I wish you would invite Mrs.
Ollnee and her son up to your farm for a few days."
"I do so with pleasure. I am going up to-night on the eight-o'clock
train, and I shall be very glad to have them go with me, if they care to
do so. We can then talk the whole case over at our leisure and in quiet.
Perhaps you can run up and stay over Sunday with us."
"That is the very thing," she responded; "and I'm very grateful to you."
Again Victor felt himself helpless, whirling along in a stream of alien
purpose like a leaf in a mountain torrent, and again he abandoned
himself to its sweep. "I will do anything to get away from here," he
replied.
Mr. Bartol went on: "Your mother's case will not come up for some days,
and the rest and quiet of the farm will do you both good." To Mrs. Joyce
he added, privately: "The whole matter interests me vastly. I don't at
all mind giving some time to it, and, besides, I like the young man."
Mrs. Joyce dropped the lawyer at his office door and sped homeward
swiftly, with intent to overtake Leo. She did not attempt to conceal her
anxiety. "The truth is, Victor, Pettus and his friends called into our
circle a throng of wicked, deceiving spirits. They were not what they
claimed to be. They were cheats, and they have almost ruined us. Your
poor, sweet mother is not to blame, and I can't blame the Aikens. What I
cannot understand is this--Why did your father and his band permit these
treacherous personalities to intervene? Why did they not defend her from
these demons?"
Victor listened to her with a complete reversal to disbelief as regards
his mother's mediumship. He forgot the marvels of the direct writing,
the mighty murmuring wind, the dream-face of Altair; all these
insubstantial and evanescent perceptions were lost, submerged by the
returning sea of his doubt. He saw, too, that Leo's faith was shaken. He
felt it beneath her brave-spoken words. The whole question of the
process, as well as the content of the messages, was reopened for her.
His situation grew ever darker. His way was again blocked. He could not
leave his mother to her fate, and yet he could not see his way to
earning a cent of money while this horrible accusation was hanging over
her. He acknowledged, too, a very definite feeling of sympathy with
those who had been defrauded. There was moral indignation in Miss
Aiken's tremulous eagerness to punish. "She's not to blame," he said.
"I'd do exactly as she is doing if I were in her place."
X