ESTHER’S DISAPPEARANCE
The shock of Professor Russell’s last visit and forced departure
prostrated Alice Cramer, and in the days that followed, a little life
that should have brightened Mark’s home opened its eyes to shut them too
quickly, and went away into the unknown from whence it came, leaving
desolation and sorrow behind it. But this bereavement was swallowed up
in the anxiety for the mother, who for many days seemed about to follow
her child.
At the same time another calamity befell the community, a tragedy that
touched all hearts. This was nothing less than the sudden and
unaccountable disappearance of Esther McCleary upon the night Russell
had been driven from Mark’s house.
Where she went or how, no one could determine. She had gone to her room
at the usual hour of retiring. In the morning she was gone, leaving no
word or trace of her going. Her mother refused to believe that any harm
could have befallen her, and would have kept the matter secret; but the
poor father at last dared to think for himself, and notified the
neighbors.
With their help he searched the canon and the weed-covered tracts of the
prairies to find, perchance, her body, while Donald went to the nearest
railway stations to learn if she had been seen to depart by any of them,
but to no avail.
Whether she had, in the depth of her despair, taken her own life;
whether, to free herself from the noxious presence of Russell, she had
disguised herself and fled to parts unknown; whether she had been
spirited away by some of his familiar spectres, or whether, in his
complete obsession of her, the unprincipled scoundrel had abducted her,
could not be learned. She was gone, and the unfortunate mother had
leisure to inquire of her own conscience, how far she had been to blame
for this tragedy in her home.
Professor Russell had not been seen in the neighborhood again, and
during Alice’s convalescence the unfortunate events occurring during her
illness, as well as those preceding it, were rarely alluded to, and her
friends were delighted to find her apparently happier and brighter than
formerly. Lissa, too, had largely recovered her normal condition, owing
chiefly to Tibby’s influence, and the world looked brighter to some of
the actors in this part of it.
The exposure of the deception practised upon them, added to the
mysterious disappearance of Esther upon the same night of Russell’s
departure, staggered the belief of many of his converts, and no seances
were held in the neighborhood.
The weeks wore away, and yet Mrs. Wylie remained at her brother’s home.
She felt as if Alice really needed the companionship of Tibby and
herself. In the early autumn Mr. Wylie was going to New York on business
and would call for her, and together they would go East. The sojourn had
been a pleasant one for Mrs. Wylie, despite the tragedies enacted, the
excitement, and the absence of the fashionable circle of her friends.
Her little boy had grown brown and stout-limbed in his liberty, and she
herself was rested and happy. The long letters from her husband, which
came with unfailing regularity, filled with news and anecdotes of the
life in which he lived, helped to break the monotony of rural life, and
as September approached and she began to look forward to his coming, the
little estrangements were forgotten and Nellie Wylie dwelt fondly upon
her husband’s perfections as she talked of him to her sister-in-law.
“You cannot think, Alice, what a wonderful business man Horace is,” she
said as they sat in the little doorway of the house one beautiful
September evening watching the sun sink behind the fringe of cotton-wood
trees in the distant west. “If he were to fail in business to-day he
would be on sound footing to-morrow. He seems to know instinctively what
to do. I need never have any fear for the future, having him to rely
on.”
“He has been very kind to allow you to stay with us so long. He must be
very lonely without his family,” Alice replied.
“Yes, though he is with his sister a great deal, and she is—Forgive me,
dear, I was about to say she was one of those dreadful spiritists. But
really she is fanatical in her beliefs and goes to such lengths in it.
That is the one regret I have for being away. I don’t like her influence
over Horace. But forgive me, Alice, I beg of you. Though I hope now you
feel the same as I do about it, I know I should not have introduced the
subject.”
“On the contrary, I am very glad you have done so. I want to tell you
that since Professor Russell went away I have seen fewer visions and
thought less upon the subject. I am really much less nervous than when
you came, and yet I cannot entirely rid myself of those—spirit
presences. If the evil ones have been driven away, there are kind ones
who come to me in my dreams. I believe Tibby exorcised the evil ones who
made life such a torture to me, and I cannot tell you how thankful I am
that you came here this summer and brought me deliverance. But for this
I should have been lying there with my baby, or been in the mad-house. I
am sure of it. But I see Mark coming. I must run and see if tea is made
for him.”
“Well, sister mine,” Mark said, springing from his horse and throwing
the reins over its neck. “When do you expect to hear from Horace?”
“To-day, now! Give me the letter quick!” she cried, holding out her
hands to him. “Ah, a telegram. He must have started, then.” And she
hastily tore open the envelope. “Yes, it is from Johnson, his partner,
and says, ‘Wylie started on No. 5, to-night, for the East.’ Oh, isn’t
that grand! He will be here in a few days.”
“You have been somewhat lonely here in the wilds, I suspect, little
sister; but we shall regret your going.”
“And I shall miss you all very much, wherever I am; but I suppose Horace
will be willing to stop only a very short time, so we can be here but a
few days longer. Let me see, this is the eighth. He should be here by
the twelfth, should he not? Robbie, come here, dear. Papa is coming. Do
you hear?” And Nellie Wylie caught up the little fellow and kissed him
in the exuberance of her delight.
“I am glad you will leave Alice in so much better health, mentally and
physically, than she was when you came,” Mark said.
“Yes, and better than all, with that man banished from this place.”