XXXVI.
THE RESULT.
I was as much surprised at this result of Mr. Gryce's scheme as he was,and possibly I was more chagrined. But I shall not enter into myfeelings on the subject, or weary you any further with my conjectures.You will be much more interested, I know, in learning what occurred toMr. Gryce upon entering the carriage holding Miss Oliver.
He had expected, from the intense emotion she displayed at the sight ofHoward Van Burnam (for I was not mistaken as to the identity of theperson occupying the carriage with her), to find her flushed with thepassions incident upon this meeting, and her companion in a condition ofmind which would make it no longer possible for him to deny hisconnection with this woman and his consequently guilty complicity in amurder to which both were linked by so many incriminating circumstances.
But for all his experience, the detective was disappointed in thisexpectation, as he had been in so many others connected with this case.There was nothing in Miss Oliver's attitude to indicate that she hadunburdened herself of any of the emotions with which she was sogrievously agitated, nor was there on Mr. Van Burnam's part any deepermanifestation of feeling than a slight glow on his cheek, and even thatdisappeared under the detective's scrutiny, leaving him as composed andimperturbable as he had been in his memorable inquisition before theCoroner.
Disappointed, and yet in a measure exhilarated by this sudden check inplans he had thought too well laid for failure, Mr. Gryce surveyed theyoung girl more carefully, and saw that he had not been mistaken inregard to the force or extent of the feelings which had driven her intoMr. Van Burnam's presence; and turning back to that gentleman, was aboutto give utterance to some very pertinent remarks, when he wasforestalled by Mr. Van Burnam inquiring, in his old calm way, whichnothing seemed able to disturb:
"Who is this crazy girl you have forced upon me? If I had known I was tobe subjected to such companionship I should not have regarded my outingso favorably."
Mr. Gryce, who never allowed himself to be surprised by anything asuspected criminal might do or say, surveyed him quietly for a moment,then turned towards Miss Oliver.
"You hear what this gentleman calls you?" said he.
Her face was hidden by her hands, but she dropped them as the detectiveaddressed her, showing a countenance so distorted by passion that itstopped the current of his thoughts, and made him question whether theepithet bestowed upon her by their somewhat callous companion wasentirely unjustified. But soon the something else which was in her facerestored his confidence in her sanity, and he saw that while her reasonmight be shaken it was not yet dethroned, and that he had good cause toexpect sooner or later some action from a woman whose misery could wearan aspect of such desperate resolution.
That he was not the only one affected by the force and desperatecharacter of her glance became presently apparent, for Mr. Van Burnam,with a more kindly tone than he had previously used, observed quietly:
"I see the lady is suffering. I beg pardon for my inconsiderate words. Ihave no wish to insult the unhappy."
Never was Mr. Gryce so nonplussed. There was a mingled courtesy andcomposure in the speaker's manner which was as far removed as possiblefrom that strained effort at self-possession which marks suppressedpassion or secret fear; while in the vacant look with which she metthese words there was neither anger nor scorn nor indeed any of thepassions one would expect to see there. The detective consequently didnot force the situation, but only watched her more and more attentivelytill her eyes fell and she crouched away from them both. Then he said:
"You can name this gentleman, can you not, Miss Oliver, even if he doesnot choose to recognize _you_?"
But her answer, if she made one, was inaudible, and the sole resultwhich Mr. Gryce obtained from this venture was a quick look from Mr. VanBurnam and the following uncompromising words from his lips:
"If you think this young girl knows me, or that I know her, you aregreatly mistaken. She is as much of a stranger to me as I am to her,and I take this opportunity of saying so. I hope my liberty and goodname are not to be made dependent upon the word of a miserable waif likethis."
"Your liberty and your good name will depend upon your innocence,"retorted Mr. Gryce, and said no more, feeling himself at a disadvantagebefore the imperturbability of this man and the silent, non-accusingattitude of this woman, from the shock of whose passions he hadanticipated so much and obtained so little.
Meantime they were moving rapidly towards Police Headquarters, andfearing that the sight of that place might alarm Miss Oliver more thanwas well for her, he strove again to rouse her by a kindly word or so.But it was useless. She evidently tried to pay attention and follow thewords he used, but her thoughts were too busy over the one great subjectthat engrossed her.
"A bad case!" murmured Mr. Van Burnam, and with the phrase seemed todismiss all thought of her.
"A bad case!" echoed Mr. Gryce, "but," seeing how fast the look ofresolution was replacing her previous aspect of frenzy, "one that willdo mischief yet to the man who has deceived her."
The stopping of the carriage roused her. Looking up, she spoke for thefirst time.
"I want a police officer," she said.
Mr. Gryce, with all his assurance restored, leaped to the ground andheld out his hand.
"I will take you into the presence of one," said he; and she, without aglance at Mr. Van Burnam, whose knee she brushed in passing, leaped tothe ground, and turned her face towards Police Headquarters.