CHAPTER X.
IN THE CHAMBER OF DEATH.
Caleb Hook stared at the fearful sight which in that darkened chambermet his gaze with feelings of mingled horror and surprise.
Could this, indeed, be the strange creature whose footsteps he hadfollowed--who but a few short moments before he had seen in life.
It was hard to realize it, but there could be no doubt that such wasthe fact.
There lay the same attenuated form, the same pale and worn features,the thin gray hair, now falling in a tangled mass to the floor, behindthe head.
And the restless eyes had ceased their wandering at last, stilled bythe cold hand of death.
Upon the woman's forehead a fearful bruise was plainly to be seen asthe detective stooped, and, by the light of the candle which he hadseized from the table, examined the inanimate form.
It was such a mark as a man's fist might make upon the right templeabove the eye.
There was nothing save this fearful bruise, which in itself would havebeen enough to have felled the strongest man, far less a frail womanlike this.
Caleb Hook set the candle upon the floor, and taking the woman's handin his own, silently felt her pulse.
It had ceased to beat--the hand was already cold.
"Is she dead?" demanded the saloon-keeper, in a frightened whisper.
"She certainly is," replied the detective. "Can you look at her andask? That blow must have been the work of a powerful man--coward, Ishould rather say, whoever he was, to use a woman so."
"God save us! an' yer right," exclaimed Slattery, with a shudder. "An'she was a dacent body, if she war mad. Bad luck to the murtherin'spalpane who raised his hand agin her. I would I had me own two handsabout his throat!"
As the warm-hearted Irishman uttered these words, with some evidence ofdeep feeling, the sound of footsteps was heard on the stairs without,and a stout woman, bare-headed and so lightly dressed as to leave astrong suspicion in the minds of the two men who beheld her that shehad just left her bed, now bustled into the room.
"An' what's all the row up here?" she demanded. "There's noise enoughto wake the dead."
"But not enough to wake yon poor crayter, Mrs. O'Brien!" exclaimedSlattery, grimly, pointing at the same time toward the body of thewoman on the floor. "D'ye know what's been goin' on up here? Poor Mrs.Marley's after bein' murdered."
"Holy Vargin! an' is it murther that's been done?" cried the woman,who, having caught sight of the body, now sprang toward the door,extending her hands before her, as if to ward off the sight.
"Help! Murder! Perlice! Och, an' it's bad luck that's overtook merespictible house!"
Before the hand of the detective could be raised to stay her, thefrightened creature had rushed down the stairs, through the alley andout into the street, causing the air to ring with her cries of murderand her shouts for the police.
"It's the woman down stairs," said Slattery aghast. "Sure, an' it's thewhole worruld we'll have in to join us now."
Caleb Hook made no reply.
He cared little, in fact, who entered this chamber of death and whostayed away.
He could not be everywhere, and had no desire to take charge of thecase.
The woman was dead, and her knowledge concerning the robbery of theWebster Bank must remain forever untold.
Nevertheless, he realized fully that between the robbery and thismurder there was unquestionably a connecting link.
In all human probability the secrets possessed by this unfortunatecreature had cost her life.
He kneeled beside the body and made a hurried examination of herclothes, Slattery talking volubly as he did so, and, professing hisentire innocence of any knowledge of the affair.
But the search was fruitless.
Save for a few cheap personal belongings, there was nothing found uponthe woman of any interest at all.
He had scarce completed his work, before the sound of many footstepswas heard upon the stairs, and a motley crowd pressed their way intothe room.
Men from the market, men from the street.
Butchers, fishmongers, and housewives with their baskets, on their wayto purchase their morning supplies.
Close behind them came a policeman, who elbowed his way through thecrowd.
Into the hands of this man the detective resigned the case, informinghim of his own identity and of the facts connected with the discoveryof the body.
"I'll go around to the Oak street station at once, officer," he addedin a whisper, "and send you help. Meanwhile, keep an eye on that manSlattery, if you want my advice. Better keep him in here with you--I'llsend these people away.
"Get back there!" he said, sternly, facing the crowd now pressing aboutthe door. "Get back, every one of you! The law will attend to thismatter without your help!"
He pushed back a brawny butcher as he spoke, who, with his check frockhanging to his heels, had pushed his way beyond the rest within thelittle room.
At the same instant a slight stir was observed among those beyond, anda young man with pallid features and whitened lips tightly set pushedhis way into the room.
He was followed by a second youth but little younger than himself, whoheld a bundle of newspapers beneath his arm.
Detective Hook started back with an exclamation of surprise.
Before him stood the very pair who had eluded his grasp in the streetbut a few moments before.
It was Frank Mansfield and his newsboy companion, Jerry Buck.
Attracted by the outcry in the street and impelled by a desire forwhich he was wholly unable to account, Frank had followed the crowdthrough the alley and up the rickety stairs, wholly regardless ofresults.
Springing forward, he now sank beside the body of the unfortunate womanwith a low, horror-stricken cry.
Instantly the detective's hand was upon his shoulder and had gently,but firmly, raised him to his feet.
The boy stared at him wildly.
"Let me go," he said hoarsely, pulling himself away. "Send away thesepeople! leave me alone with my dead!"
"Your dead, young man? Is that woman anything to you?"
"She is my mother!" cried Frank, kneeling by the side of the body, andtaking the cold, white hand within his own.
"She is my mother, and I, who basely left her to the hands of others,am responsible for this--I, her most unworthy son!"