At the time of the breaking out of the war for the Union, Warren
Charlton was a rising young lawyer in Fairfield, a town situated, like
Prairieville, in Wild River Valley, but some miles farther up the
stream. On his return from the war he had established himself in
Prairieville, much to the disgust and ire of Bangs, who looked upon
Charlton as a dangerous rival in business, as also in love; and he was
proving himself such, building up a fine and lucrative practice there
and in the surrounding country.
Some of his old clients still preferred him to his successors in
Fairfield, and when they had important business requiring legal advice,
would come to or send for him to attend to it.
And Dr. Jasper, having attained to the reputation of being the most
skilful physician and surgeon in all that region of country, was not
infrequently summoned thither, and to other like distant points, in
cases of severe sickness or serious accident.
On the morning of the day that saw the embarkation of Mr. and Mrs.
Himes, both these gentlemen had received an urgent call to the vicinity
of Fairfield. A man of property had been thrown from his carriage and
seriously injured. His recovery was doubtful, and a will was to be
made, while at the same time every effort put forth to save his life.
The town was not on the line of the railroad, nor was the residence of
Mr. Connor, the injured man. It lay beyond Fairfield and near the
river. So the two gentlemen drove over together.
They found the patient dangerously hurt, but in full possession of his
mental powers. Physician and lawyer were in attendance upon him
together or by turns through the remainder of that day and the
following night.
Toward morning he slept under the influence of an opiate administered
to deaden the sense of pain. Then the doctor withdrew from the room,
leaving him in the care of his wife and daughter, and passing out upon
the front porch, joined the captain, who was slowly pacing it to and
fro.
“Any change?” Charlton asked, stopping in his walk.
“Yes, for the better; I have strong hope that he will recover. How are
you progressing with your work?”
“I have finished; nothing is wanting now but Mr. Connor’s signature.”
“I think he will be able to add it when he wakes,” the doctor said; “he
is sleeping now. Hark! what was that?”
“A pistol shot and a cry for help!” exclaimed the captain. “It came
from the direction of the river, did it not? Some one is, perhaps, in
deadly peril. Let us go to the rescue. I have a loaded revolver on the
table in the room yonder. It’s hardly safe to be without one in these
times of continual burglaries.”
“No; I carry one constantly in travelling about the country roads,” the
doctor said; and as the words left his lips two young men belonging to
the family came rushing out, excitedly, but with care to make no noise.
“Did you gentlemen hear that shot and cry for help?” they asked, one of
them adding, “That band of burglars is after old Himes and his money,
I’m afraid. I heard he’d started down the river on a raft and moored
for the night about half a mile below here.”
There was a hasty consultation and gathering up of weapons; then the
four set off on a run for the river, intending to follow its course
till they should reach the probable scene of conflict.
But before they had traversed half the distance a woman came rushing
wildly toward them, shrieking for help.
“Who? where? what?” they asked.
“Mr. Himes—my husband!” she panted. “Oh, make haste! they’re killing
him!”
“Show us the way,” said Dr. Jasper; “lead on, and we’ll follow.”
She turned and retraced her steps, almost flying over the ground, so
that they had some difficulty in keeping up with her.
Day was faintly dawning in the east, and as they neared the spot they
could see the outlines of the raft where it lay on the water, then
several dark figures leap ashore from it and fled swiftly in a
direction opposite to that from which they were approaching.
One of the young men sent a shot after them, but without effect, the
light being insufficient for certain aim. All was darkness and silence
on the raft.
“Oh, we’re too late! they’ve killed him!” exclaimed Belinda, with a
hysterical sob.
“Perhaps not,” said the doctor, stepping cautiously aboard, the others
following. “Can you get a light?”
“There was a candle and matches on a shelf in the cabin there, close to
the door,” she answered, in a shaking voice. “Get them yourselves; I
can’t go in there to look at—”
“No need; here they are,” he said, in a low, excited tone, having
already stepped to the door and laid his hand upon them.
He struck a match, lighted the candle, and glanced about the tiny
apartment, the other men pressing up behind him and looking over his
shoulder.
A shudder ran through the little group, and a low exclamation of horror
burst from the lips of the young Connors; but the doctor and the
captain, inured to scenes of blood and carnage by their experiences in
the late war, viewed this one in awed silence. Yet only for an instant.
“Life may not be extinct!” exclaimed the doctor, hastily setting down
the light and stooping over the prostrate, bleeding, and apparently
lifeless form of the old man.
Belinda, lingering on the outside of the group, overheard the words
with strangely mingled relief and terror. To think that he had been
murdered was so horrible; yet if he were still alive and should recover
consciousness and the power of speech! Ah, who could tell how much he
knew or would be able to reveal of her complicity in the crime?
Trembling and half fainting with fright she clutched at the wall of the
cabin to keep from falling.
Her first impulse was to flee; but a second thought told her that would
but confirm the suspicion of her guilt, were such once set afloat,
while if she remained and bore herself with an air of innocence, the
fact that she had promptly summoned assistance would be strong evidence
in her favor.
She dropped down upon the floor, and leaning her head against the wall,
listened intently for further sounds from within, though her heart was
beating so loud that it seemed as if she could hear nothing else.
“He lives! he is reviving!” were the next words that reached her ear
after what had seemed hours of waiting, though in reality but a very
few moments had passed.
Then the old man spoke, feebly, tremulously, but quite distinctly. “He
thought he’d finished me, the scoundrel! Run, somebody, and catch him!
It’s Phelim O’Rourke; he’s robbed me! he’s got it all!” feeling for the
belt he had worn about his waist. “And she—she’s hand and glove with
him—curse her! take her too, and let the law deal with ’em both!”
“Who?” asked one of the bystanders.
“B’lindy—my Judas of a wife! She’s betrayed me into the hands o’ them
burglars.”
He paused, panting for breath, while the doctor said, soothingly, “I
think you are mistaken. She has saved your life by bringing us here to
your aid.”
“Humph!” grunted the old man, incredulously. Then, impatiently, and
struggling to rise, “Why don’t ye run and ketch the robbers, some o’
ye? they’ll git away with every cent I had.”
“It shall be attended to,” said the doctor; “but you must stop talking,
if you want to live to bring them to justice.”
“I’m off after the sheriff and a posse of men to pursue them as fast as
possible!” cried one of the young men, springing ashore.
His brother was about to follow, but the doctor detained him. “We must
have help to carry Mr. Himes to some place where he can have the care
and nursing he is likely to need for days or weeks to come.”
“He’ll have to be taken on a litter?”
“Yes, certainly; he is too weak for any other mode of conveyance.”
“I’ll see to it; I’ll have two or three more men here before I’m an
hour older, or my name’s not Bob Connor!” and away he sped toward the
town.
Charlton stepped out from the cabin, leaving Dr. Jasper alone with the
wounded man.
At the sound of his step Belinda lifted her head. “Is there anything I
can do to help, sir?” she asked, in a shaking voice.
“I think not,” he replied; “and I should judge it best for you to keep
out of his sight for a while, as the excitement of seeing you might
prove injurious.”
“Yes, I s’pose so,” she said, gloomily, and averting her face.
“Where’ll he be took to?”
“The tavern in Fairfield, I presume; I know of no more suitable
place—do you?”
“No; we hain’t got no home no more. I told him ’twas a fool thing to
sell it; but of course he thought I didn’t know nothin’; but if he’d
done as I said, this awful thing wouldn’t never a happened.”
“No, I presume not; and I think myself it was a foolhardy thing to
attempt to go down the river in this way, particularly with such a sum
of money on board, and in the face of the fact that so many burglaries
have been committed in the neighborhood of late.”
“I wisht he a been wiser,” she sighed, dropping her face into her
hands; “but I’ll nurse him out o’ this ov he’ll let me.”
The captain suggested that she could at least gather up his clothing
and such other things as would be needed for his comfort while ill.
She said she would stay behind and do so when they carried him away,
then follow to the hotel with the things; she knew the way quite well.
“You were by when the attack was made?” Charlton presently remarked,
interrogatively. “I hope you may be able to testify to the identity of
the would-be murderers?”
She started and trembled afresh. “I—I didn’t see one o’ their faces,”
she said. “How could I? ’twas dark as pitch.”
“O’Rourke was employed by Mr. Himes for several weeks, I know; and you
may have been able to recognize his voice.”
“He—I mean the fellar that come in the cabin where we was
sleepin’—didn’t say a word, only grabbed Himes—to git a holt o’ the
belt he kep’ his money in, I s’pose—and Himes he begun to screech
murder! an’ I cut an’ run fer help hard as ever I could,” she said, in
a sullen tone. “He kin say whatsomever he’s a mind to; I hadn’t nothin’
to do with the affair.”
“I hope not, indeed,” returned the captain; “and I trust you will be
ready to do what you can to bring the scoundrels to justice.”
She made no response to that, but presently rose and went around to the
other side of the raft, where she remained out of sight till the
wounded man had been carried away.
The town, situated a mile or more farther up the river, could be
reached by traversing half that distance by land. Taking that route,
Mr. Himes’s bearers bore him thither, stepping carefully to avoid
jolting him.
The news of the attack upon him had spread like wildfire, and early as
was the hour, the streets were full of people—men, women, and
children—eager to catch a glimpse of his features as he was carried
past, and to learn every particular of the affair. Many of them,
falling into line behind the litter, followed it to the outer door of
the tavern, and would have even pressed into the room to which he was
finally taken had not the doctor positively forbidden it and resolutely
shut the door in their faces.
All was still excitement in and about the building when the stage from
Frederic drove up.
“Stop here for breakfast,” the driver called out, laconically, to his
passengers as he reined in his horses and sprang to the ground. Then
holding the lines in one hand, he opened the door of the stage with the
other.
Several men alighted, one of them hailing the landlord:
“Hello, Strong, what’s up?”
“Why, hello, Smith! how d’y do?” returned mine host, stepping briskly
forward and shaking hands. “Glad to see you. But haven’t ye heard the
news? Old Farmer Himes, simpleton that he was to be travelling down the
river on a raft, was attacked by the burglars last night—or, rather,
early this morning I suppose it was—and pretty nigh murdered. Dr.
Jasper’s been working with him for the last two hours; he’s in there
now,” nodding his head in the direction of the room where the wounded
man lay, “but I reckon he’ll bring him round.”
A stranger standing at Smith’s side started slightly at the mention of
the doctor’s name, and, fixing his eyes on the speaker, listened
intently as he went on to give a detailed account of the nature and
extent of Himes’s hurts, and what had been done for his relief. “Ah,
here comes the doc himself!” he exclaimed, pausing in his narrative as
a gentleman stepped from the doorway into their midst. “How’s your
patient, doc?”
“Doing as well as could reasonably be expected, Mr. Strong,” returned
Dr. Jasper, quietly, but as one in some haste. “Not well enough for me
to leave him to-day,” he added, “and I must send a telegram to my wife,
lest she should be anxious at not seeing me.”
“Got it ready, I see,” said Strong, noticing that the doctor held a
slip of paper in his fingers. “Just give it to me, and I’ll have it
sent right away. Now walk in to breakfast, gentlemen—all of you; it’s
on the table, smoking hot.”
All this time the stranger had eyed Dr. Jasper askance, and now taking
a seat nearly opposite him at the table, he continued to do so during
the meal.
The doctor did not seem to perceive the scrutiny to which he was being
subjected, but ate as one whose thoughts were preoccupied with
something else than his immediate surroundings or the food of which he
was partaking.
Naturally the talk at the table ran principally on the startling event
of a few hours previous; but the doctor took no part in it, except when
directly addressed by remark or query.
Presently the announcement, “Stage for Prairieville leaves in five
minutes!” sent several persons, including the stranger who had so
persistently eyed the doctor, hurrying out.
Dr. Jasper rose the next moment, and was passing through the hall on
his way to his patient, when the driver slammed the door to upon his
passengers, the stranger leaning eagerly forward to catch a last
glimpse of the physician.
“You appear to take considerable interest in Dr. Jasper, sir,” remarked
Smith, eyeing the man with a quizzical look, as the driver vaulted to
his elevated seat and took up the reins.
“Yes; I’ve heard him spoken of,” was the reply.
“Nothing bad, I’ll venture to say; he’s well thought of in these
parts,” remarked Smith, with emphasis.
But the stranger was gazing from the window, as they whirled rapidly
down the street, and paid no attention to the remark.