PAUL'S BEWILDERMENT
Pondering over the strange events of the evening, Paul Lanier lay awake
all night after return from his visit with Agnes Randall. Longer he
thought, deeper became the mystery. He mutters: "Not one weird
circumstance alone, but such grouping of ghostly coincidents! Being
ushered into the private room of Sir Charles was explained by Agnes, but
why that fitful glare of lights? How came that copy of _London Press_,
with underscored reference to the Thames murders, in possession of Sir
Charles Chesterton? All this might concur in time and place through odd
happenings, but that horrible tableau! The murdered Alice Webster, with
gory temple, long, damp tresses clinging to her form, in striking pose,
advancing and receding, mutely gesticulating such fearful prophetic
menace, was too real for chimerical conjecture or mere coincidence. How
came that door closed just after the tableau? That declamation! Such
pertinent lines and ghostly utterances, so exactly imitating the voice
of Alice!"
Paul began to think there must be something wrong with his head. Never
before had he felt any such queer sensations, except when Alice
approached his hiding-place along shore of the lake. Strange about that
grewsome drapery of seaweed!
Paul is now startled with the conviction that Alice Webster, borne by
the Thames current, had drifted out to sea. He exclaims: "Can it be that
her body has been found and identified? What could the spectral voice
have meant by the prophecy about burial 'in a cave' and 'trodden down
with stones'? What if the body of Oswald Langdon, too, has passed out to
the boundless deep, and his fleshless skeleton now is awaiting
identification in some rock-sealed ocean cave!
"That fearful threat about will of 'fierce avenging sprite!' How escape
that sure blood-atonement?"
It now seems to Paul that all the sleuths of fate are hunting him for
these murders.
Rising haggard and feverish, he takes a glass of strong brandy and
braces himself for the day. After light breakfast, he starts out for a
walk, but avoids familiar faces.
Agnes had told Paul not to call again before Sunday evening. Still
revolving in his mind weird incidents of the previous night, this
restless youth passes the time, and again sleeps but little.
All the next day, until time for his call upon Agnes, Paul spends in
nervous, troubled conjecture, but can find no solution of this elusive
problem. The strain is terrible and his look is alert. He avoids all
acquaintances and gives startled looks into vacancy, as if fearing
invisible attack. With quick, furtive glances, his right hand grasping
concealed dagger, Paul scans strange faces, but there is suggestion of
helplessness in facial shades, as if consciously battling against
unseen, pitiless foes.
Promptly at the appointed hour Paul rings the bell at apartments of Sir
Charles. There is no response. Impatiently waiting for some time, the
bell is again rung. Still no one responds. Going around to apartments
occupied by the family, Paul again rings, when the proprietor appears.
Upon asking if Miss Randall were at home, Paul is startled by the
information that the Chesterton rooms have been vacated.
Excitedly curious, Paul inquires when and where Miss Randall moved. He
learns that the rooms were vacated shortly after midnight two days
before, without notice. The rent had been paid until the first of the
next month, and the keys were found in the doors. The proprietor had
watched from his window, but did not see Miss Randall leave the house.
Two men left in the vehicle.
Paul returned to his room more startled and mystified than before. The
occupants of that midnight conveyance disturbed his waking hours and
haunted his dreams. What had become of Agnes Randall? Perhaps the girl
had been abducted, but why did she not enter the conveyance? Possibly
Agnes had been murdered. Could it be that her body was removed in one of
the large trunks? He becomes terribly interested in solving this puzzle,
but hesitates to investigate.
The circumstances immediately preceding this strange affair render his
will nerveless. The menacing voices of his murdered victims warn him to
be cautious. With all his excitement, Paul will shun notoriety by
discreet silence.
Pierre Lanier and Sir Charles are daily expected. It now occurs to Paul
that his position will be most embarrassing. What theory can he advance
to Sir Charles for the absence of Agnes? Will not Sir Charles suspect
him of foul play? Had not Paul called that evening and left late? When
Sir Charles inquires at the house and hears the whole story, Paul's
connivance in this abducting scheme will seem clear.
Between two tragic plots, one real, the other mysterious, Paul is much
bewildered. How escape deserved reckoning in the one and unmerited
accounting in the other?
The young man's ingenuity again comes to his aid. All intangible,
ghostly menace downs before this real danger. Paul quits his room, and
in disguise watches for incoming steamer from Calcutta. He will seek
first chance to explain all to Pierre Lanier. Father and son then will
determine what to do.
Disguised, Paul haunts the wharf. Neither Sir Charles nor Pierre Lanier
arrives. Much perplexed, Paul nervously awaits the distribution of the
mail, and receives a letter from his father. Eagerly tearing it open, he
is startled by its contents.
Pierre had written:
"Take first steamer. Important business here. Come in old suit."
It is sure that something serious is contemplated. Such guarded allusion
to Paul's former disguise tells of some proposed desperate job.
Paul makes hurried preparations for departure.
Soon after on a mail steamer sails a stooped old man with long beard,
and known on ship as "Josiah Peters."