X
ISAAC
On the Tuesday was the inquest on the murdered Mephibosheth; ending in averdict of wilful murder against some person unknown.
The same night at nine Frankl had Hogarth's two guns from Margaret onthe towing-path, she now well inveigled into his net, and under hiscommands.
"I want you", he said, "to meet me-here again on Thursday night, at7.30".
"But you will tell one why, I suppose!"
"When you come you will hear. And don't let anything keep you away--not_anything_, mind--if you take my hint".
She left him with her head hung, praying for deliverance, butconsenting.
The next (Wednesday) morning Frankl was in a high room of the Hall, in acorner of which cowered the Arab, Isaac, and he said in his strong bassin Arabic: "Well, Isaac, well".
A groan broke from the obese heap of grief; down each side of his kefiestreamed waves of trembling; on his square-cut beard of ritual flecks offoam.
"Isaac, why did you kill Mephibosheth?"
Vigorously sputtered Isaac, spitting out the ill-omened words. He said:"Your servant did not kill Mephibosheth".
"Well, there was an inquest to-day, the Court decided that you did, andhas sentenced you to be hanged by the neck like a dog".
The Arab sprang up, his thick bluish under-lip shivering.
"An eye for an eye", said Frankl solemnly: "it is written in the Torah".
"_Mercy_ My father served your father--"
"I have remembered that: that is why I have saved you from hanging likea dog at the hands of these _Goyim_ vermin: but, Isaac, you must die--"
"God of--!"
"You dare raise your voice! Blood for blood--"
"_Mercy_!--I did not mean to kill--!"
"Blood for blood, you dog! Raise it, and I fell you! Raise it, and thenoose sinks into your fat swine's-throat! Can't you understand?--youhave been tracked by the avengers of blood! and you may swinglingeringly, with a crowd of Christian boys and girls mocking round you,or you may shoot yourself in one painless flash. Which shall it be?"
Isaac, again dropping a-heap, covered his face, without answer.
"Well", said Frankl, walking away, "I can't wait all day. The detectivesare at this moment downstairs--"
Now the Arab leapt up, and, in a movement of great dignity, with anout-rush of both arms, rent his caftan from the top to its muslingirdle.
"I will shoot myself", he said quietly.
Frankl took snuff.
The same night he took his secretary's typewriter, and spelled out thefollowing note:
"SIR,
"Permit me to ask you as an old friend of your father's if you areaware that your sister Margaret is the lover of the lord of the manor?Everybody seems to see it, but yourself. I have reason to know that thevery day you receive this she will be meeting him at about 7.30 P.M.under the old elm in the beech-wood near the Hall-park.
"ONE WHO SHALL BE NAMELESS".
Hogarth received it by post the next morning.
He had to think, as he worked, of something to say at the service thatnight on the text: "God's way is in the Sea", but the glare of forge andheated metal swam vaguely, a fog of red, about his consciousness. Andmixed with those recurring words: "the old elm", "God's way", somethingwith a voice shouted inside him--a name--_Margaret!_ Anon his faceflushed to a dusky turbulence, and he hurled the sledge high to shatterthe earth, like Thor.
Suddenly he had the thought that he would clean his rifle, and, droppinga hot iron which vanished with a stifled cry into black water, he tossedhis tongs clattering, and almost ran toward the cottage.
He had not, however, reached the back door when he heard his name calledfrom behind.
And now happened to him the most momentous event of his life--thoughnothing could have seemed more commonplace.
It was an old fellow named Tom Bates who had called him--father tothat Fred arrested for the murder of his wife--a Yarmouth fisher andherring-curer.
And when Hogarth twisted round, with that stare of his large andbloodshot eye, "Here", said the old man, "take them"--holding out abasket of herrings.
Hogarth seemed not to understand, but then said: "All those for me?"
"Every bloomin' one!" answered Bates, with the dropped jaw of pantomime,and a far-away look of blue astonishment which he had.
"It is extremely handsome of you. Can you spare all that--?"
"Spare, _ya'as!_ They're easy enough come by, for that matter. Why, theday's work of a fisherman gives him enough fish to live on all the week,and he could lie around idling the other six days, if he chose, onlyanybody can't live on nothing but fish ".
These words, destined to produce a horror of great darkness, and a cupof trembling of which all the nations should drink, hardly affectedHogarth at the time. He _did_, indeed, shoot an interested glance at theold man, but the next moment his mind, numb that morning, was left dark.
"Here--take them--they are yours", said Bates. "But with regard tothat God-forsaken son of mine: you'll be givin' evidence agen him, I'mtold--"
When his sleeve wiped a tear, Hogarth promised to make his evidencemild, and was left alone.
Now his purpose of cleaning the rifle was turned: he went back to theforge, and worked till Margaret, at one o'clock, called: "The dinner ison the table".
At that table, for a long time, silence reigned, Margaret's eyes fixedon his face, his on his plate.
Toward the end he said: "Are you going to chapel to-night?"
Her bosom heaved; she cleared her throat: she had to meet Frankl by thetowing-path.
"I don't think I shall..."
_Margaret!_
"Why not?"
"I have something to do".
"_What?_"
Silence.
"_What?_"
"Something"--with a stubborn nod, and pallor--"if I tell you _something_that should be enough".
"You will go to chapel to-night".
"That I shan't".
"Yes"
Silence.
A little before seven they left the cottage together for the chapel,Hogarth taking his hunting-crop--from habit; he had also a little Bible;in his jacket, tight at the slight waist, unbuttoned at the breast, laythe anonymous letter, and a little poetry-book, neither moon nor starlighting the night, bleak winds swooping like the typhoon among theyear's dead leaves.
The chapel was a paltry place, though in the wall to the right of thepreacher was a slab bearing the inscription:
ON THIS STONE JOHN WESLEY PREACHED IN THE VILLAGE, ON THE 9TH JULY 1768
And they sang a hymn; Hogarth "prayed"; read a chapter; once more theharmonium mourned; Hogarth gave the text: "God's way is in the sea..."
Even as he uttered it, he happened to glance toward the "mission-pew"--asquare pew rather behind the pulpit: Margaret no longer there.
A paleness as of very death--then a dreadful wrath reddened his darkface.
He seized his hunting-crop; and, without a word, sped bent and thievishdown the steps--and was gone.
Upon which Loveday in a middle pew, perceiving here something sinister,like a still wind flew to a back door, before ever the amazement of thepeople had given place to a flutter like leafage; and running fast, hecame up with Hogarth by a stile twenty yards behind the chapel, touchedhis shoulder.
"To the devil with you...!" shouted Hogarth, running still, and thereLoveday stood.
Margaret, meantime, was hurrying toward the towing-path, while Richard,in a direction at right angles to hers, was pelting toward that spotterrible to him--the elm.
At the moment when he entered the deep darkness of the beeches, he heardwhat sounded like a pistol-shot, rain now falling drop by drop, andthrough the forest with an uplifting whoop, like batsmen, swooped thetomboy winds.
Now, approaching the elm, again he felt that thrill which the spot hadfor him, and came peering, at slower pace: no sound but the gibberingrout of th
e stiff-stark beech-leaves. Some steps more, and now he wasat the mound which surrounds the tree: stood, listened: silence,sightlessness: Margaret not there.
One more forward step: and now his foot struck a body.
As he stooped, his hand touched a revolver--which was his own; anothermoment, and he saw running lanterns borne by two park-keepers, and bytheir light saw the body of Isaac, who but now had shot himself with theweapon that was in Hogarth's hand.
The park-keepers had just been urged by their master to the spot, hehaving, he told them, heard a pistol-shot; and before anyone could speakFrankl himself was there, defiled with the presence of the dead.
He looked from Hogarth to the corpse, and from the corpse to Hogarth,then, snatching the weapon from Hogarth's hand, exclaimed: "Why, blessmy heart, you've _murdered_ the man...."