II
"A FEARSOME MAN"
The effect of this statement upon me was greater than even she hadcontemplated.
"You thought the child had been stolen for the reward she would bring?"she continued. "She was not; she was taken out of pure hate, and that iswhy I suffer so. What may they not do to her! In what hole hide her! Mydarling, O my darling!"
She was going off into hysterics, but the look and touch I gave herrecalled her to herself.
"We need to be calm," I urged. "You, because you have something ofimportance to impart, and I, because of the action I must take as soonas the facts you have concealed become known to me. What gives you suchconfidence in this belief, which I am sure is not shared by the police,and who is the _some one_ who, as you say, is playing upon Mrs.Ocumpaugh's fears? A short time ago it was as _the wretch_ you spoke ofhim. Are not _some one_ and _the wretch_ one and the same person, andcan you not give him now a name?"
We had been moving all this time in the direction of the station and hadnow reached the foot of the platform. Pausing, she cast a last look upthe bank. The trees were thick and hid from our view the Ocumpaughmansion, but in imagination she beheld the mother moaning over thatlittle shoe.
"I shall never return there," she muttered; "why do I hesitate so tospeak!" Then in a burst, as I watched her in growing excitement:"She--Mrs. Ocumpaugh--begged me not to tell what she believed hadnothing to do with our Gwendolen's loss. But I can not keep silence.This proof of a conspiracy against herself certainly relieves me fromany promise I may have made her. Mr. Trevitt, I am positive that I knowwho carried off Gwendolen."
This was becoming interesting, intensely interesting to me. Glancingabout and noting that the group down at the water-edge had becomeabsorbed again in renewed efforts toward farther discoveries, I beckonedher to follow me into the station. It was but a step, but it gave metime to think. What was I encouraging this young girl to do? To revealto _me_, who had no claim upon her but that of friendship, a secretwhich had not been given to the police? True, it might not be worthmuch, but it was also true that it might be worth a great deal. Did sheknow how much? I wanted money--few wanted it more--but I felt that Icould not listen to her story till I had fairly settled this point. Itherefore hastened to interpose a remark:
"Miss Graham, you are good enough to offer to reveal some fact hithertoconcealed. Do you do this because you have no closer friend than myself,or because you do not know what such knowledge may be worth to theperson you give it to--in money, I mean?"
"In money? I am not thinking of money," was her amazed reply; "I amthinking of Gwendolen."
"I understand, but you should think of the practical results as well.Have you not heard of the enormous reward offered by Mr. Ocumpaugh?"
"No; I--"
"Five thousand dollars for information; and fifty thousand to the onewho will bring her back within the week unharmed. Mr. Ocumpaugh cabledto that effect yesterday."
"It is a large sum," she faltered, and for a moment she hesitated. Then,with a sweet and candid look which sank deep into my heart, she addedgravely: "I had rather not think of money in connection with Gwendolen.If what I have to tell leads to her recovery, you can be trusted, Iknow, to do what is right toward me. Mr. Trevitt, the man who stole herfrom her couch and carried her away through Mrs. Carew's grounds in awagon or otherwise, is a long-haired, heavily whiskered man of sixty ormore years of age. His face is deeply wrinkled, but chiefly marked by along scar running down between his eyebrows, which are so shaggy thatthey would quite hide his eyes if they were not lit up with anextraordinary expression of resolution, carried almost to the point offrenzy; a fearsome man, making your heart stand still when he pauses tospeak to you."
Startled as I had seldom been, for reasons which will hereafter appear,I surveyed her in mingled wonder and satisfaction.
"His name?" I demanded.
"I do not know his name."
Again I stopped to look at her.
"Does Mrs. Ocumpaugh?"
"I do not think so. She only knows what I told her."
"And what did you tell her?"
"Ah! who are these?"
Two or three persons had entered the station, probably to wait for thenext train.
"No one who will molest you."
But she was not content till we had withdrawn to where the time-tablehung up on the opposite wall. Turning about as if to consult it, shetold the following story. I never see a time-table now but I think ofher expression as she stood there looking up as if her mind were fixedon what she probably did not see at all.
"Last Wednesday--no, it was on the Wednesday preceding--I was taking aride with Gwendolen on one of the side roads branching off towardFordham. We were in her own little pony cart, and as we seldom rodetogether like this, she had been chattering about a hundred things tillher eyes danced in her head and she looked as lovely as I had ever seenher. But suddenly, just as we were about to cross a small wooden bridge,I saw her turn pale and her whole sensitive form quiver. 'Some one Idon't like,' she cried. 'There is some one about whom I don't like.Drive on, Ellie, drive on.' But before I could gather up the reins afigure which I had not noticed before stepped from behind a tree at thefarther end of the bridge, and advancing into the middle of the roadwith arms thrown out, stopped our advance. I have told you how helooked, but I can give you no idea of the passionate fury lighting uphis eyes, or the fiery dignity with which he held his place and kept ussubdued to his will till he had looked the shrinking child all over, andlaughed, not as a madman laughs, oh, much too slow and ironically forthat! but like one who takes an unholy pleasure in mocking the happypresent with evil prophecy. Nothing that I can say will make you see himas I saw him in that one instant, and though there was much in thecircumstance to cause fear, I think it was more awe than fright we felt,so commanding was his whole appearance and so forcible the assurancewith which he held us there till he was ready to move. Gwendolen criedout, but the imploring sound had no effect upon him; it only reawakenedhis mirth and led him to say, in a clear, cold, mocking tone which Ihear yet, 'Cry out, little one, for your short day is nearly over. Silksand feathers and carriages and servants will soon be a half-forgottenmemory to you; and right it is that it should be so. Ten days, littleone, only ten days more.' And with that he moved, and, slipping asidebehind the tree, allowed us to drive on. Mr. Trevitt, yesterday saw theend of those ten days, and where is she now? Only that man knows. He isone man in a thousand. Can not you find him?"
She turned; a train was coming, a train which it was very evident shefelt it her duty to take. I had no right to detain her, but I found timefor a question or two.
"And you told Mrs. Ocumpaugh this?"
"The moment we arrived home."
"And she? What did she think of it?"
"Mrs. Ocumpaugh is not a talkative woman. She grew very white andclasped the child passionately in her arms. But the next minute she hadto all appearance dismissed the whole occurrence from her thoughts.'Some socialistic fanatic,' she called him and merely advised me to stopdriving with Gwendolen for the present."
"Didn't you recall the matter to her when you found the child missing?"
"Yes; but then she appeared to regard it in a superstitious way only. Itwas a warning of death, she said, and the man an irresponsibleclairvoyant. When I tried to urge my own idea upon her and describe howI thought he might have obtained access to the bungalow and carried heroff, while still asleep, to some vehicle awaiting them in Mrs. Carew'sgrounds, she only rebuked me for my folly and bade me keep still aboutthe whole occurrence, saying that I should only be getting some poorhalf-demented old wretch into trouble for something for which he was notin the least responsible."
"A very considerate woman," I remarked; to which Miss Graham made replyas the train came storming up:
"Nobody knows how considerate, even if she has dismissed me rathersuddenly from her service. Don't let that wretch"--again she used theword--"deceive her or you into thinking that the little on
e perished inthe water. Gwendolen is alive, I say. Find him and you will find her. Isaw his resolution in his eye."
Here she made a rush for the cars, and I had time only to get her futureaddress before the train started and all further opportunity ofconversation between us was over for that day.
I remained behind because I was by no means through with myinvestigations. What she had told me only convinced me of the necessityI had already recognized of making myself master of all that could belearned at Homewood before undertaking the very serious business oflocating the child or even the aged man just described to me, and who Iwas now sure had been the chief, if not the sole, instrument in herabduction.