The Doctor, his Wife, and the Clock
some supernatural instinct.
"Helen," he shrieked, "what is this? Were not my hands dyed deep enoughin blood that you should make me answerable for your life also?"
Her eyes were closed, but she opened them. Looking long and steadily athis agonized face, she faltered forth:
"It is not you who have killed me; it is your crime. Had you beeninnocent of Mr. Hasbrouck's death, your bullet would never have foundmy heart. Did you think I could survive the proof that you had killedthat good man?"
"I--I did it unwittingly. I----"
"Hush!" she commanded, with an awful look, which, happily, he could notsee. "I had another motive. I wished to prove to you, even at the costof my life, that I loved you, had always loved you, and not----"
It was now his turn to silence her. His hand crept over her lips, andhis despairing face turned itself blindly towards us.
"Go," he cried; "leave us! Let me take a last farewell of my dying wife,without listeners or spectators."
Consulting the eye of the physician who stood beside me, and seeing nohope in it, I fell slowly back. The others followed, and the Doctor wasleft alone with his wife. From the distant position we took, we saw herarms creep round his neck, saw her head fall confidingly on his breast,then silence settled upon them and upon all nature, the gatheringtwilight deepening, till the last glow disappeared from the heavensabove and from the circle of leafless trees which enclosed this tragedyfrom the outside world.
But at last there came a stir, and Dr. Zabriskie, rising up before us,with the dead body of his wife held closely to his breast, confronted uswith a countenance so rapturous that he looked like a man transfigured.
"I will carry her to the boat," said he. "Not another hand shall touchher. She was my true wife, my true wife!" And he towered into anattitude of such dignity and passion, that for a moment he took onheroic proportions and we forgot that he had just proved himself to havecommitted a cold-blooded and ghastly crime.
* * * * *
The stars were shining when we again took our seats in the boat; and ifthe scene of our crossing to Jersey was impressive, what shall be saidof that of our return.
The Doctor, as before, sat in the stern, an awesome figure, upon whichthe moon shone with a white radiance that seemed to lift his face out ofthe surrounding darkness and set it, like an image of frozen horror,before our eyes. Against his breast he held the form of his dead wife,and now and then I saw him stoop as if he were listening for some tokensof life at her set lips. Then he would lift himself again, withhopelessness stamped upon his features, only to lean forward in renewedhope that was again destined to disappointment.
The Inspector and the accompanying physician had taken seats in the bow,and unto me had been assigned the special duty of watching over theDoctor. This I did from a low seat in front of him. I was therefore soclose that I heard his laboring breath, and though my heart was full ofawe and compassion, I could not prevent myself from bending towards himand saying these words:
"Dr. Zabriskie, the mystery of your crime is no longer a mystery to me.Listen and see if I do not understand your temptation, and how you, aconscientious and God-fearing man, came to slay your innocent neighbor.
"A friend of yours, or so he called himself, had for a long time filledyour ears with tales tending to make you suspicious of your wife andjealous of a certain man whom I will not name. You knew that your friendhad a grudge against this man, and so for many months turned a deaf earto his insinuations. But finally some change which you detected in yourwife's bearing or conversation roused your own suspicions, and you beganto doubt if all was false that came to your ears, and to curse yourblindness, which in a measure rendered you helpless. The jealous fevergrew and had risen to a high point, when one night--a memorablenight--this friend met you just as you were leaving town, and with cruelcraft whispered in your ear that the man you hated was even then withyour wife, and that if you would return at once to your home you wouldfind him in her company.
"The demon that lurks at the heart of all men, good or bad, thereupontook complete possession of you, and you answered this false friend bysaying that you would not return without a pistol. Whereupon he offeredto take you to his house and give you his. You consented, and gettingrid of your servant by sending him to Poughkeepsie with your excuses,you entered a coach with your friend.
"You say you bought the pistol, and perhaps you did, but, however thatmay be, you left his house with it in your pocket and, decliningcompanionship, walked home, arriving at the Colonnade a little beforemidnight.
"Ordinarily you have no difficulty in recognizing your own doorstep.But, being in a heated frame of mind, you walked faster than usual andso passed your own house and stopped at that of Mr. Hasbrouck's, onedoor beyond. As the entrances of these houses are all alike, there wasbut one way by which you could have made yourself sure that you hadreached your own dwelling, and that was by feeling for the doctor's signat the side of the door. But you never thought of that. Absorbed indreams of vengeance, your sole impulse was to enter by the quickestmeans possible. Taking out your night-key, you thrust it into the lock.It fitted, but it took strength to turn it, so much strength that thekey was twisted and bent by the effort. But this incident, which wouldhave attracted your attention at another time, was lost upon you at thismoment. An entrance had been effected, and you were in too excited aframe of mind to notice at what cost, or to detect the small differencesapparent in the atmosphere and furnishings of the two houses--trifleswhich would have arrested your attention under other circumstances, andmade you pause before the upper floor had been reached.
"It was while going up the stairs that you took out your pistol, so thatby the time you arrived at the front-room door you held it ready cockedand drawn in your hand. For, being blind, you feared escape on the partof your victim, and so waited for nothing but the sound of a man's voicebefore firing. When, therefore, the unfortunate Mr. Hasbrouck, roused bythis sudden intrusion, advanced with an exclamation of astonishment, youpulled the trigger, killing him on the spot. It must have beenimmediately upon his fall that you recognized from some word he uttered,or from some contact you may have had with your surroundings, that youwere in the wrong house and had killed the wrong man; for you cried out,in evident remorse, 'God! what have I done!' and fled withoutapproaching your victim.
"Descending the stairs, you rushed from the house, closing the frontdoor behind you and regaining your own without being seen. But here youfound yourself baffled in your attempted escape, by two things. First,by the pistol you still held in your hand, and secondly, by the factthat the key upon which you depended for entering your own door was sotwisted out of shape that you knew it would be useless for you toattempt to use it. What did you do in this emergency? You have alreadytold us, though the story seemed so improbable at the time, you foundnobody to believe it but myself. The pistol you flung far away from youdown the pavement, from which, by one of those rare chances whichsometimes happen in this world, it was presently picked up by some latepasser-by of more or less doubtful character. The door offered less ofan obstacle than you anticipated; for when you turned to it again youfound it, if I am not greatly mistaken, ajar, left so, as we have reasonto believe, by one who had gone out of it but a few minutes before in astate which left him but little master of his actions. It was this factwhich provided you with an answer when you were asked how you succeededin getting into Mr. Hasbrouck's house after the family had retired forthe night.
"Astonished at the coincidence, but hailing with gladness thedeliverance which it offered, you went in and ascended at once into yourwife's presence; and it was from her lips, and not from those of Mrs.Hasbrouck, that the cry arose which startled the neighborhood andprepared men's minds for the tragic words which were shouted a momentlater from the next house.
"But she who uttered the scream knew of no tragedy save that which wastaking place in her own breast. She had just repulsed a dastardlysuitor, and, seeing you enter so unexpectedly in a state
ofunaccountable horror and agitation, was naturally stricken with dismay,and thought she saw your ghost, or, what was worse, a possible avenger;while you, having failed to kill the man you sought, and having killed aman you esteemed, let no surprise on her part lure you into anydangerous self-betrayal. You strove instead to soothe her, and evenattempted to explain the excitement under which you labored, by anaccount of your narrow escape at the station, till the sudden alarm fromnext door distracted her attention, and sent both your thoughts and hersin a different direction. Not till conscience had fully awakened and thehorror of your act had had time to tell upon your sensitive nature, didyou breathe forth those vague confessions, which, not being supported bythe only explanations which would have made them credible, led her, aswell as the police, to consider you affected in your mind. Your pride asa man, and your consideration