THE ARREST.
“Found! Found!” The words rang through the house as Uncle John entered,
bearing Madeline in his arms. Her rescuer followed with noiseless
footsteps and gliding motions.
Responsive cries of joy and the noise of rapid feet were heard from all
parts of Mr. Dainty’s dwelling; and by the time Mr. Fleetwood reached
the mother’s room an eager crowd surrounded him. Tenderly laying
Madeline upon the bed, he exposed her pale, sad-looking countenance to
view, the sight of which flooded every face with tears.
“Where is the girl?” he asked, imperatively.
“I am here.” And Adele moved toward the bed
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “What ails our precious
darling?”
“The sleep is mesmeric,” answered Adele, in her low, musical voice.
“Mesmeric!” ejaculated Mr. Fleetwood.
“Mesmeric!” exclaimed Mr. Dainty, in anger. “Who has dared to do this?”
“It was Mrs. Fordham,” replied Adele.
“Who is Mrs. Fordham?”
“The woman for whom you were in search,” said Adele, turning to
Florence Harper, whom she had recognised.
“Mrs. Jeckyl!” said Florence.
“Devil!” almost thundered Mr. Fleetwood.
“How is this spell to be broken?” asked Florence, coming up to Adele
and grasping her arm tightly.
“No one can break it but Mrs. Fordham. She has locked up her senses,
and she alone can open them.”
“Cannot you do it?” Florence asked, eagerly.
“No,” was answered, almost mournfully.
“Try.”
“It is useless.” And the girl shook her head.
“Did you see it done?” now asked Mr. Fleetwood, turning from the bed
where he had been vainly trying to arouse Madeline to consciousness.
“No, sir. She was alone with the poor little thing.”
“You have seen children put to sleep?” Mr. Fleetwood asked the question.
“Oh, yes, sir. Often.”
“And you’ve seen them wakened?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do as you have seen it done, and wake this child if possible.”
Adele moved forward timidly, and, with evident strong reluctance,
and standing over Madeline, commenced making passes with her hands,
beginning at the breast and moving them upward over her face. The
motions were slow at first, but increased in quickness. This was
continued for two or three minutes, but without apparent effect.
“It is of no use,” said the girl, stopping suddenly, and as if in
despair. “I have no power. The hand that has been at work here is
stronger than mine. You must get Mrs. Fordham.”
“Where is she?”
“At my mother’s house.”
“Where does your mother live?”
“She knows.” And Adele looked toward Florence.
“Take Florence in the carriage,” said Uncle John, speaking to Mr.
Dainty, “and go with her to one of the police-stations and get an
officer. Then drive with lightning speed to the house where the girl’s
mother lives, and have Mrs. Jeckyl arrested and brought here.”
“Come.” Mr. Dainty spoke to Florence, who went hurriedly from the room,
and made herself ready in the quickest possible time.
“Will you go?” she spoke to Adele, appearing in a few moments, ready to
accompany Mr. Dainty.
“No,” was the quiet answer. “It can do you no good; and harm may come
of it to me.”
The carriage which had brought Mr. Fleetwood and Adele from the
Exchange was still at the door. Into this Mr. Dainty, after giving
his orders to the driver, entered with Florence. At the nearest
police-station they obtained an officer, duly instructed to arrest
Mrs. Jeckyl if she could be found, and then swept rapidly off toward
the northern part of the city. In returning from her previous visit to
the house of Mrs. Weir, Florence had particularly noted the names of
streets and numbers of houses, so that she had no difficulty in giving
the directions needed.
“This is the house,” she said, at last, and the officer signed to
the driver to rein up his horses. As when Florence paid her first
visit, there was not a sign of life about the dwelling. All the
window-shutters were closed, and the dust lay thick upon the sills and
door-steps. Grass sprung in little green tufts from between the bricks
on the pavement, while small mounds of dirt had grown, by daily light
secretions, in the corners where the walls of the house and door-steps
came in contact.
“No one lives here,” said Mr. Dainty, as he looked up at the dwelling
and noted the many signs of desertion.
“It is the house in which I saw that girl,” replied Florence.
The officer had already rung the bell. He was lifting his hand to ring
a second time, when the door was opened cautiously, and the singularly
striking face of Mrs. Weir presented itself. On seeing Florence, whom
she instantly recognised, she made a movement to shut the door quickly
upon her visitors; but this the strong hand of the officer prevented.
As he pushed it wide open, Mrs. Weir turned and ran back along the
passage.
“She will give the alarm, and the woman may escape,” said Florence,
quickly.
At this hint the officer sprung forward, and, grasping her arm tightly,
arrested her progress at the bottom of the stairway. Mrs. Weir turned
instantly, and fixed her black, glittering eyes upon him.
“What is the meaning of this outrage?” she demanded, in a steady voice.
“No outrage is intended, madam,” said Mr. Dainty, coming forward. “We
are in search of a woman named Fordham, who is, as we are informed, in
your house.”
“She is not here,” was the firm answer.
“Where can we find her?” he asked, in a disappointed voice.
“I know not. She comes and goes as the wind; and no questions are asked
as to her coming or going.”
“Step into this room,” said the officer, motioning to one of the
parlor-doors. Mrs. Weir obeyed, and Mr. Dainty and Florence went in
with her. Quick glances were thrown around the apartments, but they had
no other inmates.
“Remain here,” said the officer. “I will search the house. You stand by
the door, sir, and do not permit any one to pass to the street.”
Mrs. Weir made various signs of rebellion; but the officer warned her
to be quiet, or he would have her taken to the police-station. This
threat really frightened her, and she sunk down, almost nerveless, upon
a chair.
“Be quick,” said Mr. Dainty, speaking to the officer. “The woman is
tall, with a thin, sallow, evil face, and dark, wicked eyes. You can
make no mistake.”
The officer left the room. It was nearly ten minutes before he came
back.
“She is not in the house,” he said, “and I fear has escaped, as I find
an outlet in the rear, leading through a court, into another street.”
“I told you that she was not here,” said the woman, a gleam of triumph
shooting from her eyes, and her manner exhibiting relief.
“She must be found!” Mr. Dainty spoke with agitation. “We are on her
track, and only need to persevere. This is one of her haunts; and to
this house my poor child was brought.”
“She will in all probability return here,” said the officer, “if what
this woman states is true. But if she were really in the house at the
time of our arrival, and made her escape out through the alley and
court I have mentioned, we shall have to search for her in another
direction. My advice is to send the carriage out of the neighborhood.
If the woman should come back and see it standing before the door, she
will take the alarm, and not enter.”
“Your suggestion is good,” remarked Mr. Dainty. “I will order the
carriage around the square. The driver can wait for us in the next
street.” And he went to the door and gave directions accordingly.
Returning, Mr. Dainty said to the officer,—
“Shall we all remain here, or will you go for additional aid, so as to
extend the search?”
“I think,” replied the officer, “that, as this woman is fully
implicated in a very serious crime, I had better take her to the
police-station. She is evidently a participant in the business, and
shows great anxiety about the escape of her accomplice.”
Mrs. Weir’s sallow face changed to a more ashen hue at this suggestion.
“I do not know,” added the officer, speaking for effect, “that
bail, under the circumstances, will be accepted. She will no doubt
be imprisoned until all parties in this most horrible outrage are
discovered. Her evidence in the case will be of too much importance for
risk of absence, even under bail, to be taken.”
“Indeed, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Weir, now thoroughly frightened, “I am
innocent in this matter. Mrs. Fordham, who brought the child here, is
an entire stranger. I never saw her until very recently.”
“Where is she now? How can we trace her?” demanded the officer.
“I know not. She went as she came, and I asked no questions.”
“More the fool for that!” said the officer, coarsely. “But I am afraid
there is as much of the knave as the fool in the present case. Right
kind of people are not in the habit of letting suspicious old women,
and total strangers at that, come into their houses and depart at
will, yet asking no questions. The story isn’t probable, madam.”
“But true, for all,” answered Mrs. Weir. “It is just as I have said.
Mrs. Fordham came and went, and I asked no questions.”
“And why not?”
“Because I—I——”
The woman hesitated.
“Say on.”
“We are commanded not to cast pearls before swine,” she replied,
with sudden spirit; “and I shall not cast down things precious to be
trampled under your feet.”
“You’ve got some spice in you, I see,” returned the officer, a little
amused. “People in your trade generally have. It requires a full
portion to carry them through.”
The woman’s face flushed as she said,—
“Explain yourself, sir! What do you mean by my trade?”
“Oh, that of harboring child-stealing vagabonds and the like! This
seems to have been your last occupation. But I am not here to bandy
sharp words. My business is to find Mrs. Fordham. If you can direct me
to the place where she now is, well; if not, I must arrest you, and you
will be held in custody until she is produced,—perhaps longer.”
The woman’s face turned pale again.
At this moment the bell rung. Mrs. Weir stalled up and was moving
toward the door.
“Excuse me, madam,” said the officer, laying his hand upon her arm;
“but I will attend the door.”
And he drew her firmly back. She made a slight resistance, but the
officer held her tightly for an instant.
“Take her in charge, if you please,” he said to Mr. Dainty, “while I
see after this visitor.”
Mr. Dainty did not hesitate. Grasping her arm, he said, sternly,—
“Let us have no trifling! This business may cost you dear. Complicity
in crime is no light matter, I can tell you.”
The officer was now at the street-door. As he opened it, a tall woman
in black, answering in all respects to the description of Mrs. Fordham,
stood ready to enter.
“Walk in, madam,” he said.
But she stood still, with her keen eyes reading every lineament of his
face. She was not satisfied with its expression.
“Walk in,” repeated the officer.
“No, I thank you. Please say to Mrs. Weir that Mrs. Fordham would like
to see her at the door for a moment.”
“Mrs. Weir is engaged,” was the officer’s reply.
“Has her daughter returned?” queried Mrs. Fordham.
“Yes.”
“Ask her to step here.”
By this time Mrs. Fordham had retreated a little, and the officer,
seeing that she was about descending the steps, moved suddenly forward,
and, throwing one arm around her waist, drew her with a sudden jerk
into the passage and shut the door. The movement was so quick, and so
unexpected, that the woman was taken entirely off of her guard.
“You are arrested for child-stealing!” said the officer, ere she had
recovered from her surprise.
“It is Mrs. Jeckyl!” exclaimed Florence, appearing at the parlor-door.
“Mrs. Jeckyl! Oh, wretch! wretch!” said Mr Dainty, who had released
Mrs. Weir, and now confronted the thoroughly-alarmed woman, who, seeing
herself completely in the power of these two men, gave up without a
struggle.
“Shall I go for the carriage?” said the officer.
“Yes, immediately. But, stay! let me call the carriage, while you hold
your prisoner in charge.”
“What are you going to do?” demanded Mrs. Jeckyl, with regaining
self-possession, as Mr. Dainty left the house.
“My business,” replied the officer, “is to make this arrest. What
follows will depend on the character of evidence which may be produced
against you.”
“At whose instance is the arrest made?”
“At the instance of Mr. Dainty, whose child you abducted.”
“I must know your authority!” The woman was growing bolder.
The officer merely took a metal star from his pocket and fastened it
against his breast.
The effect was instantaneous. The woman’s eye quailed beneath his
steady gaze.
“Come,” said the officer, as the carriage was heard rattling to the
door. She hesitated, but moved as she saw his hand rising to grasp her
arm.
“Do you wish the other woman arrested, also?” inquired the officer, on
meeting Mr. Dainty at the door. “She is without doubt an accomplice.”
“I only want this woman now,” said Mr. Dainty. “If the other is needed
we can send for her.”
“But will hardly find her,” muttered the officer. Mr. Dainty did not
heed the remark. He was too eager to have Mrs. Jeckyl conveyed to his
dwelling to pause on any other considerations. Entering the carriage
with Mrs. Jeckyl, Florence, and the officer, he ordered the driver to
take them to his residence in the quickest possible time. Heeding the
injunction, the driver put the whip upon his horses, and dashed rapidly
away.