CHAPTER XXV
DEATH EDDY
It was a gray day, chill and ominous. As the three most interested in theevent came together on the road facing the point from which Hazen haddecided to make his desperate plunge, the dreariness of the scene wasreflected in the troubled eye of the lawyer and that of the still moreprofoundly affected Ransom. Only Hazen gazed unmoved. Perhaps becausethe spot was no new one to him, perhaps because an unsympathetic sky,a stretch of rock, the swirl of churning waters without any of thelightness and color which glancing sunlight gives, meant for him but onething--the thing upon which he had fixed his mind, his soul.
The rocky formation into which the stream ran at this point as into apocket, revealed itself in the bald outlines of the point which, curvinghalf-way upon itself, held in its cold embrace the unseen vortex. Onetree, and one only, disturbed the sky line. Stark and twisted into anunusual shape from the steady blowing of the prevalent east winds, itimprinted itself at once upon the eye and unconsciously upon theimagination. To some it was the keeper of that hell-gate; the contortedsentinel of bygone woes and long-buried horrors, if not the gnomishgenius of others yet to come. To-day it was the sign-post to a strangedeed--the courting of an uncanny death that one of the many secretshidden in that hole of miseries might be unlocked.
Under this tree a small group of strong and determined men was alreadycollected; not as spectators but helpers in the adventurous attempt aboutto be undertaken by their old friend and playmate. The spectators hadbeen barred from the point and stood lined up in the road overlooking theeddy. They were numerous and very eager. Hazen's brows drew together inhis first exhibition of feeling, as he saw women and even children in thecrowd, and caught the expression of morbid anticipation with which theyall turned as he stepped with his two associates over the rope which hadbeen stretched across the base of the out-curving head line.
"Cormorants!" escaped his lips. "They look for a feastof death, but they will be disappointed."]
"Cormorants!" escaped his lips. "They look for a feast of death, butthey will be disappointed." He was almost bitter. "I shall survive thisplunge. I have no wish for my death to be the holiday for a hundredgloating eyes, I am not handsome enough. When I die, it will be quietly,with some hand near, kind enough to cover my poor face with a napkin."
Harper and Ransom both remembered this remark a little while later.
"Mr. Hazen?" It was Harper who spoke. They had passed a little thicketof brush and were drawing near the group under the tree. "Have you dulyconsidered what you are about to do? I have talked with several men ofjudgment and experience about this attempt, and they all say it can havebut one termination."
"I know. That is because they know little or nothing of the life I haveled since I left this town. There is not a man amongst them so slight andseemingly frail of figure as myself, but none of them, not one, has beenso often up to the very gates of death and escaped, as I have. Myschooling has been long and severe, perhaps in preparation for this day.I have been through fire; I have been through water. The swirling of myown native stream does not appall me. I rather welcome it; it is butanother experience."
"But for money?" broke in Ransom. "You acknowledge it is for no otherpurpose. Will it pay? I own that in my eyes no amount of money could paya man for so superhuman a risk as this. Take a few thousands from me--Ihad rather give them to you than see you leap into that water openingbeneath us like a hungry maw."
Hazen stood silent, his eye glistening, his hand almost outstretched.Harper thought he would yield; the offer must have struck him as generousand very tempting--a good excuse for a hot-headed man to withdraw from avery doubtful adventure. But he did not know Hazen. This latter advancedhis hand and squeezed Ransom's warmly, but his answer, when he was readyto give one, conveyed no intention of a change of mind.
"Will your thousands amount to a clean million?" he smiled. "That is theamount, I believe, bequeathed by your wife to Mr. Auchincloss. Nothingless will suffice. Yet I thank you, Ransom."
The latter bowed and fell a little behind the others. The struggle in hismind had been severe; it was severe yet; he did not know but that it washis duty to stop this Hazen from his intended action by force. He was notsure but that the onus of this whole desperate undertaking would yet fallupon him. Certainly it would fall upon his conscience if the end wasfatal. He had had proof of that in the long night of wakeful misery hehad just passed; a night in which he had faced the furies; in which thisinexorable question had forced itself upon him despite every effort onhis part to evade it.
Why had he, a humane man, consented to this attempt on the part of thedevoted Hazen? That his mind might be free to mourn his beautiful youngbride whose fatal and mysterious secret he was still as far from knowingas in the hour he turned to welcome her to their first home and found herfled from his arms and heart? Or had this suspense, this feeling ofstanding now, as never before, at the opening door of fate, a deepersignificance, a more active meaning? Was this meditated test a crucialone, because it opened to him the only possible releasement of soul andconscience to the undivided care of one who had no other refuge in lifesave that offered by his devotion? The horror of this self-probing wasstill upon him as he followed Hazen's slight and virile figure across therocks, but it fled as he felt the spray of the tossing waters dash itschilling reminder in his face.
The event was upon him and he must add to his former actions that ofa complete and determined opposition to the risk proposed or possiblyforfeit his peace of mind forever. Quickening his pace, he reached Hazenand the lawyer just as the men awaiting them had advanced on their side.Instantly he knew it was too late. There was neither time nor opportunityfor any weak protests on his part now. Older men were speaking; men whoknew the river, the danger, and the man, but even they said nothing tohim in way of dissuasion. They only pointed out what especial points ofsuction were to be avoided, and showed him the chain they had brought forhis waist and how he was to pull upon it the very instant he felt hissenses or his strength leaving him.
He answered as a courageous man might, and making ready by taking off hiscoat and shoes he gave himself into their hands for the proper fasteningon of the chain. Then, while the murmur of expectation rose from thecrowd on the river bank, he stepped back to Mr. Ransom and whisperedhurriedly in his ear:
"You have a good heart, a better heart than I ever gave you credit for.Promise that in case I never come out of those waters alive, that youwill put no obstacle in the way of Mr. Auchincloss inheriting his fortunein good time. He's a man worthy of all the assistance which money canbring. _You_ do not need her wealth; Anitra--well, she will be cared for,but Auchincloss--promise--brother."
Ransom half drew back in his amazement. Then started forward again. Thisman whom he had always distrusted, whom he had looked upon as Georgian'spossible enemy, certainly his own, was looking into his eyes with a gazeof trust, almost of affection. The money was not for himself; he showedit by the noble, almost grand look with which he waited for his answer;a look that carried conviction despite Ransom's prejudice and greatdislike.
"You will give me that much additional nerve for the task lying beforeme?" he added. And Ransom could only bow his head. The man's mastery waslimitless; it had reached and moved even him.
Another moment and a gasp went up from fifty or more throats. Hazen hadtaken the chain in his hand, walked to the edge of the rock and slippedinto the quietest water he saw there.
"Strike left!" called out a voice. And he struck left. The eddy seizedhim and they could see his head moving slowly about in the great circlewhich gradually grew smaller and smaller till he suddenly disappeared. Agroan muffled with horror went up from the shore. But the man who heldthe chain lifted up his hand, and silence--more pregnant of anticipationthan any sound--held that whole crowd rigid. The man played out thechain; Harper stared at the seething, tumbling water, but Ransom lookedanother way. The torture in his soul was taking shape, the shape of aghost rising from those tossing waters. Suddenly th
e pent-in breath offifty breasts found its way again to the lips.
The men who held the chain were pulling it in with violent reaches. Itdragged more slowly, stuck, loosened itself, and finally brought intosight a face white as the foam it rose amongst.
"Dead! Drowned!" the whisper went around.
But when Hazen was dragged ashore and Ransom had thrown himself at hisfeet, he saw that he yet lived, and lived triumphantly. Ransom could nothave told more; it was for others to see and point out the smile thatsweetened the wan lips, and the passion with which he held against hisbreast some sodden and shapeless object which he had rescued from thoseawful depths, and which, when spread out and clean of sand, betrayeditself as that peculiar article of woman's clothing, a small side bag.
"I remember that bag," said Harper. "I saw it, or one exactly like it, inMrs. Ransom's hand when she got into the coach the day we all rode upfrom the ferry. What will he have to say about it? and could he have seenthe body from which it has evidently been torn?"