CHAPTER IV.
DR. MEDJORA SURRENDERS.
Madam Cora Corona watched the destruction of the old mansion in whichshe had last seen her lover, with mingled feelings of horror and ofhope. At one moment it seems impossible that the Doctor could find ameans of escaping from the flames, whilst at the next she could butremember the manner of man that he was, and that having told her ofhis intention to surrender to the police, he would scarcely havechosen so horrible a death whilst immediate safety was attainable bysimply opening the door of the passageway before the flames envelopedthe whole building. Besides, how did the fire occur? He must havestarted it himself, and, if so, with what object, except to cover uphis escape? But love, such as she bore this man, could never beentirely free from its anxiety, until the most probable reasoningshould become assured facts. So, with a dull pain of dread gnawing ather heart, she drove her horses home, holding the reins herself, andlashing the animals into a swift gait, which made their chains clankas they strained every nerve to obey their mistress's behest.
Reaching her sumptuous home on Madison Avenue, she hurried to her ownroom, passing servants, who moved out of her way awed by herappearance, for those who dwelt with her had learned to recognize thesigns which portended storm, and were wise enough to avoid theviolence of her anger.
Tossing aside her bonnet and mantle, regardless of where they fell,Madam Corona dropped into a large, well-cushioned arm-chair, and gazedinto vacancy, with a hopeless despair depicted on her features. Thedeath of Dr. Medjora would mean much to this woman, and as the minutessped by, the conviction that he must have perished, slowly burneditself into her brain.
She was the widow of a wealthy Central American. Her husband had beenshot as a traitor, having been captured in one of those ever-recurringrevolutions, whose leaders are killed if defeated, but made governorsif they succeed; rulers until such time when another revolutionaryparty may become strong enough to depose the last victors. Thus thechance of a battle makes men heroes, or criminals.
She had never loved her husband, and, with a sensual, passionatetemperament, which had never been satisfied by her marriage, shewelcomed her freedom and her husband's wealth as a possible steptowards that love for which she longed. Exiled from her own country,because of the politics of her dead husband, she had come to theUnited States, the home of all aliens. Her estates had not beenconfiscated, for fear that the fires of the revolution, smothered butnot quenched, might have been again stirred by a seeming warringagainst the woman. But the President had said to his council:
"Madam Corona is too rich, and she talks too much." So the hint hadbeen given to her to depart, and she had acquiesced, glad enough toretain her fortune.
In New York she had been welcomed amidst the Spanish-Americans, andwith a different temperament might readily have endeared to herself ahost of true friends. But her selfish desire for a despotic sway overall who came near, and her extreme jealousy of attentions to others,imbued those who made her acquaintance with an aversion which wasscarcely concealed by the thin veneer of the polite formalities ofsocial life. So she knew that in the new, as in the old home, she hadno friends.
One day she was taken ill, and sent for Dr. Medjora, of whom she hadheard, though she had not met him. His skill brought about her rapidrecovery, and, being attracted by his fine appearance, she invited himto visit her as a friend. He availed himself of this opportunity tobecome intimate with a wealthy patron, and called often. Very soon shebecame aware of the fact that here was a man over whom she could neverhope to dominate, and so, as she could not make him her slave, shebecame his. Her whole fiery nature went out to him, and she courtedhim with a wealth of passion which should have melted ice, but whichfrom the Doctor earned but little more than a warm hand-clasp atparting. Finally, to her utter amazement, as she was about to despairof ever attracting him, he came to her and asked her to marry him. Sheconsented joyously, and for twenty-four hours lived in rapture.
Then her morning paper told of the death of Mabel Sloane, andconnected the Doctor with the tragedy. She hurried to his office andheaped upon him vituperation and reproach, such as only could emanatefrom a heart capable of the deepest jealousy. He met the stormunflinchingly, and turned it away from himself by reminding her thathe would probably be tried for murder, and that thus she would be ridof him. At once she changed her threats to entreaties. She begged himto fly with her. Her wealth would suffice, and in some other climethey could be safe, and she would forget, forgive, and love him.
He appeared to yield, and bade her be ready to come to him at hisbidding. She returned home, only to write him a long urgent letter,containing money; the letter to which the Doctor had alluded duringthe conversation overheard by young Barnes. Then she had been summonedand had gone to him. And now? Now the longer she thought, the morecertain did it appear to her, as the hours went by, that her lover wasdead. And such a death! She shuddered and closed her eyes. But shecould not shut out the vision of her beloved Doctor standing bravely,with folded arms, as the flames crept upon him, surrounded him, anddestroyed him. She could not shut out the sound of a last despairingcry wrung from his unwilling lips, as with a final upflaring of theflame, the whole structure fell in.
Maddened by her thoughts, at length she started up and turned towardsher basin, intending to lave her fevered brow, when with a cry shesprang back, for there, in her room, with arms folded as in hervision, stood what she could but suppose to be the wraith of the dead.She shrieked, and fell forward in a swoon, to be caught in the arms ofDr. Medjora, who had admitted himself, unknown to the sleepingservants, by a latch key furnished to him by her, when she had beggedhim to join her in flight.
When she recovered consciousness and realized that this was no spectrewhich had intruded upon her, she lavished upon him a wealth of kissesand caresses, which should have assured him of the intensity of herlove and joy. She laughed and cried alternately, petted him and pattedhis cheeks, kissed him upon the hands, upon his face, his hair, hislips. She threw her arms around him and pressed him to her palpitatingheart, the while crying:
"Alive! Thank heaven! Alive! Alive!"
"And did you think me dead, Cara mia?" He folded his arms about her,touched by the evident genuineness of her feelings, and moved to someslight response.
"Yes! I thought so! No! I did not! I knew you were too clever to dieso. But then the flames! They ate up the whole building, and I did notsee how--I could not imagine--and I was afraid! But now you are safeagain! You are with me, and I love you a million times more that Ihave mourned your death!"
"Come, come, dear heart! I am alive and unhurt. I never was in danger.I would not kill myself, you know. I love my life too well! And it wasI who set the fire!"
"I thought that too at times! You did it to baffle the police! I seeit all! Oh, you are so clever! Now they will think you dead, and wecan go away together and live without fear! Is it not so?"
"No, Cora! As I told you this afternoon, I shall give myself up to thepolice!"
"No, no, no! You must not! You shall not! What, risk your preciouslife again? You will not, say that you will not! If you love me, sayit!"
She twined her arms about his neck, and held him tight as though hemeditated going away at once. In the fear of this new danger, an agonywelled up about her heart, and tears choked her utterance. But theDoctor remained impassive. He gently, but forcibly, disengaged himselffrom her embrace, and seating himself, drew her down to her kneesbeside him. Then he took her head in his hands, compelling her to lookat him, and spoke to her in measured tones.
"Cora! Calm yourself! You are growing hysterical. You know me toowell, to suppose that I would swerve from a fixed purpose. I will notleave this city. As I have told you, all my hopes for the future bindme here. Elsewhere I should be as nothing, here I will grow intogreatness,--greatness which you shall share with me, if you be butbrave!"
"But this trial! Suppose--suppose--oh! The horror of it!" She droppedher head upon his lap and wept. He stroked her beautiful black hair,
which had become disengaged and now fell down her back, completelycovering her shoulders. Presently when she was more quiet, only anoccasional sob indicating that she was yet disturbed, he spoke to her,soothingly, caressingly, so that under the magic of his tones shegradually recovered her self-possession.
"My little one, have no fear! This trial is but an incident whichscarcely gives me a troublesome thought. The worst is that I shallprobably be in prison for some time awaiting trial. A meddlesomeinterference with the liberty of a man, which the law takes, offeringno recompense when the accused is proven to have been innocent. Thisis one of the anomalies of a system which claims to administer equalrights and justice to all. I am accused of a crime. I am arrested andincarcerated for weeks, or months. I am tried and acquitted. I spendthousands of dollars in my defence. When I am released, I am in no wayrepaid for my loss of liberty and money. Indeed, innocent though I be,I am congratulated by a host of sympathizers because I was not hanged.But I have had full justice. I have been accorded an expensive trial,with learned talent against me, etc., etc. The law is not to blame,nor those who enforce the laws. I am the victim of circumstances, thatis all. Well, so be it. A stupid doctor has warned the authoritiesthat a woman has died of morphine poisoning, despite the fact that amore competent man has signed a certificate that she died of a naturaldisease. So I have been accused, and will undoubtedly be indicted andtried. But do you not see, that I have but to show that diphtheriacaused death, and my innocence will be admitted?"
"Yes, but----!"
"No! There is no but? Now show me to a room, where I may restunobserved, until the day after to-morrow. We must not rob the publicof its sensation too soon. Think of it, I read my own holocaust in anafternoon paper!"
Madam Corona shivered at this, not yet fully unmindful of her ownrecent forebodings. Obediently she took him to a room, and left him,the single comforting thought abiding with her, that she would havehim all to herself during the whole of the following day.
When Messrs. Dudley and Bliss learned from Barnes that he had followedDr. Medjora, and had seen him go into the building which had beendestroyed by fire, their hope that possibly the newspaper accountswere erroneous, was dissipated.
"I knew it!" began the junior member. "I knew that it was too good tobe true. Think of that man's permitting himself to be burned to deathjust as we were about to get our chance. It's too exasperating."
"It is annoying, Robert, of course," said Mr. Dudley. "Yet there issome comfort in the thought that he had the courtesy to pay us aretainer. That five hundred is most acceptable."
"Oh! certainly, the money will come handy, but what is five hundreddollars to an opportunity such as this would have been?" Mr. Bliss wasin a very bad humor.
"Robert," began his partner, speaking seriously, "you must not be soimpatient. We are no worse off, at any rate, than before the mancalled upon us, so far as our profession goes, and we are better offthan we would be if he had not called at all. You should be gratefulfor the good received, and not cry after lost possibilities."
"Oh! well! I suppose you are right!" and throwing up both arms in agesture of disgust, he went to his desk and began writing furiously. Along silence was maintained. These two men contrasted greatly. Theyhad met each other during their law-school days, and were mutuallyattracted. Mr. Dudley was a hard student who had realized early inlife that the best fruit comes to him, who climbs, rather than to himwho shakes the tree; whilst that man who lies at ease, basking in thesunshine and waiting for ripe plums to fall into his mouth, is likelyto go hungry. He was methodical, persistent, patient, energetic. Hewasted no time. Even during his office hours, if there were nothingelse to occupy him, he would continue his studies, delving into thecalf-bound tomes as though determined to be a thorough master of theircontents.
Mr. Bliss was his antithesis, and yet he had just those qualificationswhich made him complement his partner, so that he strengthened thefirm. He was a brilliant, rather than a deep student. He read rapidly,and had a remarkable memory, so that he had a superficialcomprehension of many things, rather than a positive knowledge of alesser number. He could be both rhetorical and oratorical, and, at apinch, could blind a jury with a neat metaphor, where surer logicmight have made a smaller impression, being less attractive. Whenaddressing the jury, he would become so earnest, that by suggesting tohis hearers that he himself was convinced of the truth of hisutterances, he often swayed them to his wishes. He was quick, too, andkeen, so that he eventually became justly celebrated for hiscross-examinations. But at this time his greatness had scarcely begunto bud, and so he sat like a schoolboy in the dumps, whilst his graverpartner, though equally disappointed at the prospect of losing a goodcase, showed not so much of his annoyance.
Presently Barnes entered with a telegram, which Mr. Bliss took, gladof anything to divert his thoughts. A moment after reading it he wasgreatly excited, and handing the message to his partner, exclaimed:
"Mortimer, in heaven's name read that!"
Mr. Dudley took the despatch and read as follows:
"Be at office District Attorney to-morrow ten o'clock. I will takeyour advice and surrender. Medjora."
"Well, Robert, what of it?"
"What of it? Has the Western Union an office in the other world now,that dead men may send telegrams?"
"Certainly not. Therefore this was sent before he died."
"Before he died!" This unthought-of possibility shattered the risinghopes of Mr. Bliss. He made one more effort, however, saying:
"What is the date?"
"Why, the date is to-day!" said Mr. Dudley, slowly. "Singular! But itis an error, of course."
"Why do you say 'of course'?" asked his partner, testily. "You seem tobe anxious to lose this case. Now, how do you know that Medjora isdead after all?"
"Why Barnes saw him go into the building, and he could not haveescaped, for the place was surrounded by the police."
"There is no telling what that man can do. I verily believe that he ismore than human, after the way in which he read my thoughts yesterday.I am going to probe this thing to the bottom." And before his partnercould detain him, he had taken down his hat and rushed off.
Two hours later, he returned discouraged. At the main office he hadbeen referred to a branch, far uptown. Arriving there he found thatthe operator who had sent the despatch had gone off duty. The originalblank upon which the message had been written was undated. So helearned practically nothing.
"Never mind," said he, doggedly, after relating his ill-success, "Iwill go to the District-Attorney's office to-morrow, and wait for thatman whether he come, or his ghost. I firmly believe that one or theother will do so."
"I will go with you," said Mr. Dudley. "Only promise me to saynothing, unless our man turns up."
At half-past nine on the next morning, both of the young lawyers wereat the appointed place. Mr. Dudley sat down and read, or appeared toread, the paper. Mr. Bliss walked about impatiently, leaving the roomoccasionally to go out into the hall and stand at the main doorway,looking into the street.
A few moments before ten o'clock the District Attorney himself arrivedand nodded pleasantly to the young men, with whom he was acquainted.
"Waiting for me?" he asked of Mr. Dudley.
"No! I am waiting for a client," was the quiet rejoinder. Mr. Blissstarted to speak, but a signal from his partner reminded him of hisinjunction.
"Strange news in the morning paper," remarked the District Attorney,evidently full of his topic. "That man Medjora, the fellow whopoisoned his sweetheart you know, was burned to death trying to escapethe detectives. Served him right, only it is a great case missed by uslawyers, eh?"
"Why do you say it served him right?" asked Mr. Bliss, quickly. Hestill hoped that the Doctor would appear, and it occurred to himinstantly, that he might learn something from the prosecution, thustaken unawares, supposing the case to be ended.
"Oh, well!" said the old lawyer, careful of speech by habit ratherthan because he saw any necessity for ca
ution in the present instance;"had the case come to trial, we had abundant evidence upon which toconvict, for Medjora certainly murdered the girl."
"Your are mistaken!" said a clear voice behind them, and as the threemen turned and faced Dr. Medjora, the clock struck ten. Withoutwaiting for them to recover from their surprise the Doctor continued:"Mr. District Attorney, I am Emanuel Medjora, the man whom you havejust accused of a hideous crime; the murder of a young girl, by makinguse of his knowledge of medicine. To my mind there can scarcely be amurder more fiendish, than where a physician, who has been taught theuse of poisons for beneficent purposes, prostitutes his knowledge tocompass the death of a human being; especially of one who loved him."He uttered the last words with a touch of pathos which moved hishearers. Quickly recovering he continued: "Therefore, both as a man,and as a physician, I must challenge you to prove your slanderousstatement. I have come here to-day, sir, to surrender myself to you asthe law's representative, that I may show my willingness to answer inperson the charges which have been made against me. Messrs. Dudley &Bliss here, are my counsel."
The District Attorney was very much astonished. Not only was he amazedto see the man alive, when he had been reported dead, but he wasentirely unprepared to find this suspected criminal to be a man ofcultured refinement, both of speech and of manner. He was thus, forthe moment, more leniently inclined than he would have been, were healone considering the mass of evidence which his office had alreadycollected against the Doctor. Turning to him therefore he said:
"So you are Dr. Medjora! Well, sir, I am delighted to see you. Thatyou have voluntarily surrendered yourself will certainly tell in yourfavor. You must pardon my hasty remark. But I thought that you weredead, and----"
"And as you could not hurt the dead, you saw no harm in calling anunconvicted man a murderer. I see!" There was a vein of satiricalreproach beneath the polished manner of saying these words, whichstung the old lawyer, and restored him at once to his wontedcraftiness.
"Perhaps you are right, Doctor, and I ought not to have used the wordsabout you, dead or alive. Of course, in this office the prisoner isonly the accused. Never more than that, even in our thoughts. That isan imperative injunction which I place upon all of my assistants. Yousee, gentlemen," he addressed them all collectively, with the purposeof bringing the Doctor to the conclusion that he was not speciallythinking of him. Thus he prepared to spring a trap. "You see, theDistrict Attorney is a prosecuting officer, but he should neverpersecute. It is his duty to represent and guard the liberties of thewhole community. He should be as jealous of the rights of the accused,as of the accuser. More so, perhaps, for the prisoner stands to anextent alone, whilst the whole commonwealth is against him. And so,Dr. Medjora, if you are an innocent man, as you seem to be, it wouldbe my most pleasing duty to free you from the stigma cast upon you.And should you come to trial, you must believe that the more forciblemy arguments may be against you, the more do I espouse your cause, forthe more thorough would be your acquittal if you obtained theverdict." Then having, as he thought, led his man away from hisdefence, he asked quickly, "But tell me, why have you not surrenderedbefore?"
If he hoped to see the Doctor stammer and splutter, seeking for someplausible explanation, he was doomed to disappointment. Dr. Medjorareplied at once, ignoring a signal from Mr. Bliss not to speak.
"Mr. District Attorney, I will reply most candidly. Whilst, as youhave just said, it is your duty to guard the interests of the accusedas well as of the commonwealth, I regret to be compelled to say thatsuch is not your reputation. People say, and I see now that they mustbe wrong,"--the Doctor bowed and smiled most politely,--"but they dosay that with you it is conviction at any cost. Thus even an innocentman might well hesitate to withstand the attacks of so eminent andskilful a jurist as yourself. Circumstantial evidence, whilst mostreliable when thoroughly comprehended, may sometimes entrap theguiltless. So whilst my blood boiled in anger at the disgracefulcharges which were made against me, my innate love of liberty, and mycaution, bade me think first. Not satisfied with my own counsel, Ideemed it wise to consult legal authority, which I did two days ago.Messrs. Dudley & Bliss advised me to surrender, confident that myinnocence will be made so apparent that I do not materially jeopardizemy life. In compliance with the understanding entered into two daysago, as these gentlemen will testify, I am at your service."
"But why did you not come here two days ago?"
"Because I had some affairs of a private nature to arrange."
"What about the incident of the fire reported in the papers?"
"Why, I see nothing in that but poor reportorial work. I did notchoose to be arrested when I had decided voluntarily to surrender, assuch a mischance would have injured my case. I therefore escapedduring the confusion. That I was unobserved, and was reported to haveperished, is not my fault certainly."
"Very well, Doctor. You have not been indicted, and there is nowarrant out for your arrest; still, as you have surrendered, are youwilling to be taken to prison?"
"That is what I expect. I am entirely ready."
"May I ask," said Mr. Dudley, addressing the District Attorney, "inview of the fact that our client has voluntarily surrendered himself,that his confinement in prison may be as brief as possible? We claimthat the Doctor is an innocent man, deprived of his liberty whilstawaiting trial, through the blundering accusations of a stupidphysician. We venture to suggest that common justice demands that histrial should be as soon as possible."
"I shall arrange to have the trial at as early a date as is consistentwith my duty to the commonwealth!"
"And to the accused?" interjected Dr. Medjora, with a twinkle in hiseye.
"And to the accused, of course," said the old lawyer, with a smile,unwilling to be outdone.
And so Dr. Emanuel Medjora was taken to prison to await his trial, andthe public was treated to another sensation through the newspapers.