Jane was roused by a wild shriek from without. She thought at first it
was an animal in an agony of pain or rage. The wind had closed the door,
and she could not open it. She went round by a passage to reach the
lawn. While she had been in the hall a scene fit for a melodrama was in
progress without. The tiny black Russian landaulet with three ponies
abreast which Madame Trebizoff usually drove stood a few paces back near
the woods. In the centre of the open space, in the full light both of
the moon and the lights from the house, stood the princess, black lace
draping her tragically, rubies flaming in her jetty hair, and a
blood-red poppy in her breast. She was turning from one group of men to
another like a hunted animal: her voice, once let loose from the thin
smooth level on which she held it, squeaked and chattered, and then fell
into doglike growls and sobs. Mrs. Wilde stood between her and a burly
man in gray.
"I assure you, sir, that there is no Madame Varens here. This is an
English lady and my guest. _My_ guest! You know who I am--Mrs. John
Schuyler Wilde."
"Very sorry, Mrs. Wilde, to annoy you, or these ladies," turning to the
group of frightened girls to whom the princess had flown for succor. She
looked back from their midst like a furious crow from out of a covey of
white doves. "I won't swear that her name's Varens. She's down in the
description also as Mrs. Swift and Aurelia Lamb. Regular
confidence-woman, madam. I didn't want to follow her in here. Nobody
respects ladies as are ladies more than I do. Now, ma'am," turning to
Charlotte, "you'd better come quietly. It's nothing serious. A few
hundreds. Small operation for _you_. Not worth disturbing people of this
class," nodding back over his right ear as he caught her by the arm.
"Class! What do you mean? This is _my_ class!" shaking him back as if he
had been a snake and tapping her breast as she lifted herself to her
tiptoes. "_My_ class! Do you hear? I am the Princess Trebizoff. I have
witnesses.--Mr. Van Ness! Mr. Van Ness is here to speak for me."
"Pliny Van Ness?" said the awed detective. "If _he_ vouches for you,
ma'am--"
Mr. Van Ness, who had watched the arrest with much placidity, was
suddenly left by the withdrawal of the crowd standing alone facing the
detective and his prisoner. He stroked his blond beard and looked down
at her with thoughtful compassion.
"Mr. Van Ness," she said shrilly, advancing a step, "I am in danger of a
jail. Certify for me that I am--your friend, the woman whom I represent
myself to be."
"Of course any friend of yours, Mr. Van Ness--I may be mistaken,"
interjected the officer.
"I am very sorry, officer," said the reformer, his mellow tones full of
pain. "But this lady--"
"Do you refuse?" she shrieked. Then springing up to him and thrusting
her face in his, she whispered, "For Ted's sake! I am your child's
mother! If he should find me in jail!"
"I was about to say, officer," calmly pursued Mr. Van Ness, "that this
lady is unknown to me except as a casual acquaintance. She may be a
princess. She may be a thief. That is for you to settle. As for me--"
And waving his white hands and shrugging his broad shoulders, he turned
away.
The princess looked after him steadily a moment, then she turned to the
men: "Are you going to see me hauled away to prison without a word? I am
a woman! An Englishwoman! This is American justice!" She lifted herself
again into her favorite attitude of malediction, shaking her fingers
against the air as if scattering curses.
"Good gracious!" cried Mr. Waring. "Why! why! Surely I have seen that
done before!--I say, judge! Don't you remember? The medium Combe? The
spirit--"
"Come!" said the officer gruffly. "We've had enough of this. Your
friends disown you, ma'am. I'll trouble you to step down to the hack--"
It was then that the poor princess gave the despairing shriek which Jane
had heard. Eluding the officer's clutch, she darted across the open
space and faced them, while she plunged her hand into her pocket and
drew out a vial full of a dark liquid. There was a cry of horror as she
put it to her lips, drained it and sank to the ground.
"Good God! she has taken poison!" cried the captain.
There were immediate shouts for a doctor, and frantic rushes out and
back again on the part of Buff and Dave and the young men, who wanted to
scatter the news, but were afraid something would happen while they were
gone. Mrs. Wilde came up to her. "She really is an impostor, then?"
holding out her trembling arms to take her.
"Oh, the worst kind! Dead-beat, confidence--as much lower as you can go.
Don't touch her, ma'am. You'd better take them young ladies away too.
This isn't the sort of thing for them to see."
"Certainly not," running off like a scared hen-partridge.--"Come, girls,
I will take you home at once. This is a phase of life not fit for you to
look into."
But she could not drive them farther than the porch, where they huddled,
pale, all talking at once, looking back and declaring it was as exciting
as any tragedy, and was the poor creature dead? and oh, to think they
had all called on her!
By this time Jane was on her knees and had the princess in her arms.
"Poor thing! poor thing!" she said. Her own heart was so bruised and
sore that she might have sobbed over this other woman if she had had
nothing else to do for her.
"Lay her down, miss, if you please. A doctor's been sent for. She's in
the hands of medicine and the law."
"Father, where is your patent stomach-pump?"
"The very thing, Jane!" dashing into the house.
"May the Lord have mercy on her soul!" said Waring.
"Mr. Waring, are you there? Help me to carry her. Into my room."
"Somewhere else! Not there!" exclaimed the judge.
"These proceedings are very irregular!" blustered the officer.
"Accordin' to New York law, the body shouldn't be touched until the
coroner arrives."
"But is she dead?" interposed Mr. Van Ness, bringing the little
procession to a full halt. "_Is_ she dead? That is the question.--Allow
me. Lay her on this settee: one moment, Miss Swendon," prying one eyelid
open and bending his ear to her heart with an air of judicial decision.
"Life," said the detective ponderously, "appears to have become
extinct."
Jane pushed back the hair from the lean face. "Perhaps," she said, "she
has a child," and then stooped and kissed her on the mouth.
Van Ness, at the word, paused and looked for a moment sharply from one
woman to the other. Then with a sad smile he lifted the hand which
clenched the vial tightly. It required a wrench to remove it. He
uncorked it and put it to his tongue.
"Prussic acid!" said the detective. "Strong odor of peach-blossoms."
"Give me space one moment," said Van Ness excitedly. "There is a chance
of saving her!--Stand back, Miss Swendon."
The officer and Jane drew back hastily. He stooped and whispered
vehemently into the ear of the dead woman. She opened her eyes,
sparkling and full of malice, stared at him doubtfully, then nodded. The
captain, a physician and a dozen other aids arrived at the moment.
"You are too late," said Van Ness calmly, meeting them. "Madame
Trebizoff had only swooned. She is willing to go with the officer.--Will
you take my arm, Miss Swendon? You are faint, I am sure. As for the
poison," lowering his voice as he bent toward her, "it was only
sweetened water. The princess has taken it before."