Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery

  CHAPTER XXII.

  DICK RELIEVES GRACIE'S FEELING BY ONE EXPRESSIVE WORD.

  "At last!" said Dick. "At last a ray of light! What's the time?" Helooked at a clock in a baker's shop. "Five minutes past ten. Ought Ito go to her at once? No, I think not. Had she wanted me earlier shewould have said, 'Come to me the moment you get this letter.' Fourlong hours to wait. What am I to do with myself till two o'clock?"

  With the idea of making time fly faster he began to count his steps--ten, twenty, thirty, one hundred, two hundred, three hundred. He madea calculation. A step a second, three hundred steps three hundredseconds, five minutes, and five minutes more employed in thought andcalculation. Ten minutes gone, ten minutes nearer to Florence. He cameto another shop with a clock in it; it marked eight minutes past ten.He had done all this in three minutes. He had walked too quickly, andwas fast working himself up to fever heat. "Keep cool, my lad," hemuttered; "you'll mar instead of mend if you don't keep cool."

  But the events of the last few hours, with their tragic issues,pressed so heavily upon him that he found it no easy matter to keepcool. Much easier was it to conjure up the feelings of a murderer,who, oppressed with the weight of his undiscovered crime, fancies hediscerns in every face the knowledge of his guilt--turning his headover his shoulder every minute to see if he was being dogged--startingat familiar sounds, especially at the sound of bells and clocksstriking the hour, every peal proclaiming to all the world that aMurderer was passing that way--tortured by the devilish temptation toleap into the middle of the road, and flinging up his arms to screamaloud, "Stop, you grinning fools! _I did it!_" Then running to abridge, with a mob at his heels, and flinging himself into the river.

  For some minutes Dick was under a spell of this nature. He lookednervously at the head-lines on the newspaper bills, and listened forthe shouting of the newsboys, "Murder! Murder! Frightful Murder inCatchpole Square!" But no such words reached his ears. Passing theshop in which he had purchased the rope and grapnel, he was almostprepared to see the dirty-faced old man, in his list slippers andgreasy skull cap, run out and cry, "Stop that man! Ask him what he didwith the rope he bought of me last night. Stop him--stop him!"

  "I am losing my senses," said Dick, "indulging in these fancies. Ishall be deluding myself presently into the belief that it was I whomurdered Samuel Boyd. I'll go and see little Gracie. I may get somenews of Abel Death."

  Gracie was in bed, and Mrs. Death was in the adjoining room, preparinga linseed poultice for her. She looked into Dick's face, and droppedher eyes.

  "You've heard nothing, sir?"

  "Nothing," he replied. "I have come to see Gracie. Is she any better?"

  "She's no worse, sir," said Mrs. Death, with a sigh, "but I can hardlykeep her in bed, and the trouble I have to put a poultice on her isbeyond description; I have almost to go on my bended knees. She's thedearest child, sir; she never thinks of herself."

  Upon Dick's entrance Gracie sat up in bed and put out her hand; it washot and clammy, and Dick patted it kindly, and held it in his. Thefaces of the other children, who were all sitting on the floor,playing shop with stones and broken pieces of crockery, becameillumined at sight of Dick.

  "It's good of you to come," said Gracie. "I thought you would. Youmustn't mind my coughing a bit. I'm ever so much better, but mother_will_ worry about me. I want to whisper to you. Do you think father'sdead?"

  "No, Gracie," he said, to comfort her. "I don't think that."

  "Then what's keeping him away? Is he afraid of somebody? Father neverdid anything wrong. We'll look for him together when I'm well. Shallwe?"

  "Yes, Gracie; and so that you may get well soon and find him, youmustn't sit up in bed." He put her head gently on the hard pillow, andarranged the scanty coverings over her. She made no resistance, butkept her eyes upon him, gravely and steadily.

  "I've been dreaming of you all night long," she said.

  "Now, what do _you_ want?" said Dick to Connie, who was standing athis knee.

  "Here's two ounces of tea," said Connie, giving him a stone, "and somescrag of mutton" (giving him another), "and a silk dress" (giving himanother), "and a pound of sugar, and a penn'orth of brandy balls, anda pair of boots, and four pounds of potatoes, and a pint of beer"--allrepresented by stones, which Dick accepted with an air of greatenjoyment. "If you haven't got any money we'll trust you." Havingeffected which sale upon these unbusinesslike conditions, the childtrotted back to her brothers and sisters, who put their heads togetherand whispered.

  Mrs. Death entered with the poultice, and was about to put it on, whena soft tapping was heard on the passage door. Before any one couldanswer it the handle was turned and Dr. Vinsen presented himself.

  Gracie lay back in bed, and clutched Dick's hand tight.

  As Dr. Vinsen glanced around the room, Dick thought his eyes weresmaller and sleepier than on the first occasion they had met; hisheavy white lids hung low, and partially veiled them; but this aspectof languor was more than counterbalanced by the fringe of yellowhair round his bald head, which gave him a luminous, not to say asaint-like appearance.

  "Ah, Mr. Dick Remington," he said, in the pleasantest of voices, "goodmorning, _good_ morning. Are you also here on a mission of kindness toour little patient--our lit-tle pa-tient? Permit me." He disengagedthe clammy hand which clasped Dick's, and timed Gracie's pulse by hislarge gold watch, at which the children stared in awe. "Ratherfeverish, but an improvement. What do you say? It's nothing toworry about? Then we'll not worry about it. Why should we? Lifebrings a peck of worries in its train--why should we make the peckoverflow--o-ver-flow?" With his head on one side, like a largeyellow-fringed bird, he smilingly invited an opinion from Dick.

  "Why, indeed?" said Dick.

  "True--true. Why?" As though not he, but Dick, had made the inquiry."We are getting along nicely, Mrs. Death, I am happy to say. In ashort time we shall have our little patient running about again,playing with her companions, as well as ever. The troubles ofchildren, eh, Mr. Remington?"

  "Yes," said Dick, vaguely.

  "A private word in your ear. Have we heard from our missing friend?"

  "I believe not," replied Dick.

  "Sad--sad--sad! But there is time--there is always time; andhope--there is always hope. She bears up."

  "What else can she do? Knocking your head against a stone wall is notan agreeable diversion."

  "_Your_ head, my young friend, _your_ head," said Dr. Vinsen,jocosely. Then turning to Mrs. Death, "What is this? A linseedpoultice? Very proper. Let it be very hot. Our little patient makes aface. If she never has a worse trouble than a linseed poultice she isto be envied. Here is a bottle of medicine--a tablespoonful every fourhours. I will call again to-morrow. You will not shut your dooragainst me, eh?"

  "No, indeed, sir. We don't shut the door against our best friends."

  "So kind of you to say so." He paused to contemplate the group ofchildren on the floor. "This"--with a comprehensive wave of his hand,so as to take in the whole of the room--"is a scene for an artist, andon the walls of the Academy would attract attention, even from thearistocracy."

  "That wouldn't help them much," observed Dick.

  "I don't know--I really don't know. It enlarges the scope, widens thesympathies--wi-dens the sym-pa-thies. Be happy, children, be happy."He went through the ceremony of shaking hands with Dick and Mrs.Death, and with an amiable smile, in which his halo seemed to takepart, left the room.

  "Dick," whispered Gracie. He bent towards her. "May I call you Dick?"

  "Yes, Gracie."

  "Wait a bit till my cough's over." She almost choked herself in hereffort to finish the sentence before the cough commenced. It lasted along time, but Dick, supporting her in his arms, was glad to hear thatit was looser. Then she whispered to him again, "Don't let 'em hearus, Dick. Say Damn!"

  "Damn!" said Dick, without the least hesitation.

  She sank back and smiled. It was t
he first time Dick had seen hersmile, and it brought a wonderful light into her sallow face. Whatevermay have been the reason for the singular request, she was evidentlymuch relieved.